process. It slides in fine too. I go up a size and up a size, stretching myself bigger with each one. ‘A bit like driving a car’, they told me. ‘Always go up through the gears, never start with the largest dilator.’ After five minutes, I’m ready for it. ‘Mr Big’ as I’ve affectionately nicknamed him. I extract the giant, white, plastic penis-replicate from the pink bag, rub a little lube onto the end, take another deep breath and push it up slowly. It’s slightly uncomfortable as it’s made of hard plastic, but it’s up it’s up it’s up. I lie back on my pillow, legs askew, and leave it in there for fifteen minutes like I was taught to do. Smiling.
I can still do this, I can still let things into my body. You didn’t take it away from me after all, no matter how hard you tried, you rotten bastard. I won’t let you win. I’ll never let you win.
When the time’s up, I slide the trainer out, collect them all up and give them a big wash in the sink, drying them with a clean towel before replacing everything into the pink purse. I’m feeling triumphant when I open my top drawer and rummage for my good pair of matching underwear. I pluck out the black lacy bra and knickers and shove them into my bag. It’s still too hot today and I want to put them on fresh after work. I know, of course, that what I’m planning to do later is potentially really stupid. Giving myself to someone who doesn’t even know my name – for what? An end-game of revenge? But it’s not just that, I think, as I shrug on my short-sleeved shirt dress. Every time I have sex with someone, part of me feels like it’s payback against Ryan. Like I’m proving that he didn’t win.
Eventually, I’m ready to leave the house. I step outside and it’s like being slapped in the face by the heat. No breeze offers any respite. People walk slowly on the pavements, sweat pulping down their foreheads, suits ruined before lunchtime. The cold showers of the morning seeming like a million years ago.
They say it might rain later. Finally rain.
‘Hi everyone,’ I announce to the office when I get in just after 1 p.m.
A few people raise their heads from their keyboard in vague acknowledgement of my arrival, but most remain glued to their screens. The Friday vibe is yet to hit. I mouth ‘hello’ to Matt and Katy and sit down at my computer, getting right into my shift.
Message received: 08:43
I’m probably overreacting but I’ve been thinking a lot about something that happened a few years ago. My boyfriend was 18, and I was only 15, and one night, when I was staying at his, he just had sex with me without talking about it, without asking. His parents were out and I went over and I was expecting us to do some stuff, but not that because we’d not been going out very long. But he just did it, and I was so shocked I just went along with it. I didn’t know how to say no. I figured it was obvious I wasn’t ready, but it clearly wasn’t because he did it anyway. We went out for a year after that and had consensual sex throughout our relationship. But now I can’t get that first time out of my head. I’ve struggled to be in a relationship since. Am I weird?
Message received: 12:37
I was kissing some guy in a club the other night when he just shoved his hand up my skirt and into my vagina. I pushed him off and he laughed and I cried when I got home. Not sure why I’m typing this. Just feel a bit strange.
‘I’m fine,’ I snap at Matt, as he loiters behind my chair.
‘Are you su—?’
‘I SAID I’M FINE, OK?’
He and Katy glance at one another but neither of them say anything, and let me get back to my shift.
I’m helping. It’s worth it because I’m helping.
The afternoon passes. The sky gathers itself into a tight grey knot, rumbling softly every so often, like a stomach awaiting lunch. The air’s so humid you can stick your tongue out and drink from it. We have all the windows open, uselessly, and arguments have started about who has the best fan. At 3 p.m., in an attempt to be Friday and jovial, Mike goes down to the Tesco