Becoming Fabulous

By Kitty Mulholland

“The thing is, I just don’t find you attractive any more.”

It’s the last thing in the world that Leah Bennett expected to hear from her husband of seven years.

It’s now January. Said husband has moved out and Leah is alone. While pondering what to do with her new-found freedom, a passing re

• Language: English
• Publisher: Athene Projects Ltd
• Release date: Nov 25, 2016
• ISBN: 9780995796409

Book preview

CHAPTER ONE

In The Beginning

There you go, four pounds and thirty-one pence change, your receipt and your coupons. Have a nice day.

Leah Bennett faked a smile for the supermarket cashier and shoved her coins plus all the slips of paper into her purse. When did people start saying that? Have a nice day! How could a complete stranger know whether or not it was an appropriate thing to say to someone? She felt like saying, I’m having a fucking awful day, thanks very much.

It wasn’t the girl’s fault. She was eighteen, maybe nineteen, probably just working a few shifts to pay for college tuition fees. She had her whole life ahead of her. Leah found herself hoping that the girl wouldn’t make the same mistakes she had. Mumbling something to herself about trying not to become too bitter and twisted, she picked up the bags of shopping and made for the automatic doors, but something stopped her in her tracks.

A little girl, perhaps four years old, stood alone looking dazed and bewildered. Commuters on their way home from work, in a hurry to collect convenience fayre, likely hadn’t even the time to register her presence.

The girl turned, apparently unaware of Leah standing and staring at her. Her blonde curls bounced and her wide eyes were questioning. A finger went up to her open mouth and the other reached her eye – almost a reflex action before the inevitable onset of tears.

Leah stood and stared, transfixed to the spot by the angelic vision. The girl’s pretty, innocent face dissolved into a flood of sobbing. Busy customers continued to bustle past until eventually an elderly lady, not a great deal taller than the child herself, stopped and took her hand.

Have you lost your mummy, sweetheart?

The spell was broken and Leah hurried back to her car, the image haunting her all the way home. All those selfish people, too engrossed in their own lives, too busy to see a small child in need, possibly even in danger.

What about me? Leah thought, as she drove home. I saw her but did nothing. Surely that makes me just as bad. She knew all too well what that little girl was feeling. Lost.

She closed the front door behind her, put the bags in the kitchen and, kicking off her shoes, dashed upstairs and flung herself on the bed. Some sort of social restraint prevented her from breaking down in public, but now the tears came thick and fast, just like that little girl. Thank God she had managed to hold it all in and retreat somewhere private to unleash her emotions.

Leah envied the child her public display of distress. The old lady would no doubt have ensured that her parent or guardian had been summoned and all would be forgotten soon enough. Problems are like that are easily solved for children; not so for adults.

It was only a few days since Simon had packed his bags and left. Leah felt like she had been torn in two and the human half was missing. When she saw that little girl at the supermarket, it was as if she were looking at the personification of how she felt. Utterly and totally bereft.

They had been so happy and been through so much together. They had made so many memories. Their wedding day had been packed with glorious sunshine – something of a rarity in northern England. The Italian honeymoon had been blissful and romantic. She remembered choosing sofas together, bouncing on different ones in the shop until they found the ones which felt just right, in true Goldilocks fashion. Their life had been just like a fairy tale. Or so she thought.

Simon had been her soul-mate, her best friend. In times when she was down, he was her anchor, her harbour in a storm. And she was his. Leah thought she had found her Happily Ever After.

But, life isn’t like that. It doesn’t come packaged with glittering bows and the Walt Disney logo on the side. It’s grey and overcast at times, often dark and downright dismal. Frankly, at times, it sucks.

She knew all this, but being a romantic at heart, and having overdosed on the saccharin Hollywood of rom-coms in her formative years, she thought that when she found love, it would withstand anything.

She dragged herself off the bed and stood in front of the mirror. She looked tired, she knew, her eyes red from tears and her long blonde hair, usually neat and tidy, hung loose, unruly waves falling onto her shoulders. She couldn’t be bothered to brush it, so she shuffled downstairs instead.

When she thought she could cry no more, dehydration giving her a headache, she dragged herself off the bed and shuffled downstairs. She hung up her coat, cast off during the rush, placed her shoes on the rack and picked up a trusty old pair of slippers. The shopping carefully stacked away in the cupboard and fridge, she switched on the gas fire and settled on the sofa with a book.

It seemed like your average chick lit thing about some woman’s love life. Enough distraction for Leah for the time being – she was in no mood to embrace the classics. She hadn’t had sex with anyone in months, and the desire to use her toys had long gone, so she figured that by reading about someone else’s exploits, it might just arouse her enough for the odd battery-operated play session. If nothing else, maybe she would get a decent night’s sleep after a good healthy orgasm.

The main character was portrayed as experiencing many of the same emotions Leah was feeling. She, too, felt rudderless after a marriage breakup. But this woman certainly wasn’t moping at home in a scruffy pair of slippers. She was assertively going round different websites looking for fun. She was on a mission to get laid by as many men as she could handle. She had turned into a fuck machine, and as Leah turned the pages, she began to envy the woman’s boldness and straightforward approach. She didn’t want or need a relationship any more, just like Leah; she was seeking no-strings-attached liaisons and finding at least some comfort from her endeavours. A small seed of an idea began to germinate in Leah’s mind.

She finished the chapter and took herself off to bed, thrusting the idea out of her thoughts, although her mind remained full of the images skilfully woven into the pages. Usually, she slept naked, although this was more about habit than anything remotely sexual. She and Simon had slept in separate rooms for the last couple of years of their marriage. She parted her legs at the sound of the vibrator’s buzzing, musing at the Pavlovian conditioning. She was wet already.

Her fantasies were always the same lately: girls. She couldn’t even picture herself with a man right now, let alone be turned on by one. The images that crept into her mind, caressing her libido, were always girls. Scantily clad, porn-star-style girls with fake breasts, fake tan and fake acting. They were the only girls she had ever seen having sex together, and she had memorised scenes from porn films of years before. They played over and over until her orgasm overwhelmed and washed over her body. She lay breathless and panting, the sheets soaked with sweat and stickiness. The intensity of the release brought tears to her eyes and she hugged the cool pillow on the other side of the bed until sleep finally came.

***

Heath McCullough watched the thick brown liquid dripping into his mug in a tantalising fashion. He tried to remember the last time he had drunk instant coffee, and how his passionate move to The Real Stuff had made his life so much better.

The stainless steel and copper contraption he had purchased many years previously, when his company had made its first million, was a marvel to behold. As a proud Scotsman, it pained him to admit that coffee wasn’t something that they did very well. Thank God for the whisky. He also thanked Providence for the fact that even at such a young age, he had had the intelligence to purchase his house outright, this designer coffee maker, and some other luxury items before it all collapsed around his ears. Very few people could say they could afford to pay cash for a house; fewer still for their very first property.

Yes, on reflection, he did have some things to be thankful for after all, and not just material possessions. Being packed off to boarding school from a young age made boys grow up more quickly, his father had said, perhaps to excuse the fact that he hadn’t really wanted children at all. In truth, Heath had an old head on his shoulders from a relatively young age and this had made him wary of women who would seek his wealth over his affections. It was partly the reason he chose to wear vintage or period clothes so often. It made it much more difficult for others to judge his status if he rocked up to a party wearing an outfit which looked to have come from the seventeenth century.

He drained his coffee cup and pondered the merits of washing his hair as he went to take a shower. His long black lustrous locks were unruly at the best of times, which added to his eccentricity, but today he was off to visit his lawyer. It would pay to appear smart, even though the guy was an old university chum. He wanted to make sure he had the best possible start to the day; there was a possibility things could descend into chaos.

***

Grant Foster tapped his pen on the desk.

You’re stalling, mate, Heath said. All this reminiscing is all very well, but just tell me the current status. For fuck’s sake, let’s get it over with."

He sat back and waited for his learned lawyer friend to spill the beans. He knew it was bad from the way Grant couldn’t meet his gaze across the imposing mahogany desk.

This was a plush office. The carpet had a thick pile; the brocade curtains gathered to the sides of the large windows looked expensive and heavy.

Since their university days – since Heath went out with Grant and their friends, partly to make sure they all got home in one piece rather than end up sleeping in street gutters – Grant had really cleaned up his act. Who’d have known back then he would become one of the most notable criminal lawyers in the country?

She wants her day in court, my friend. She wants her pound of flesh.

Fuck.

Heath rose out of the large leather chair and went over to the window, staring at the view. From the outside, this particular skyscraper didn’t look anything special. The top two floors were dedicated to the firm in which Grant had now become a senior partner, and the vista across the greener areas of the UK’s second city was impressive.

She didn’t accept the offer?

Her counsel informs me that she didn’t even read the letter, but instead relished the drama of tearing it up, still in the envelope, right in front of him. I have no reason to disbelieve him; he’s an old friend.

Heath turned back to Grant.

So, what now?

The lawyer joined him at the window and draped a friendly arm around Heath’s shoulders.

Your best bet… Is to let her have her moment. Any reticence on your part could sway a jury against you. You have to be seen to be amenable in every way to everything she wants.

How long could this take?

It’s up to her to apply for a date, but I get the impression she wants to move quickly.

Heath let out a low whistle, as if he had been holding his breath for some considerable time. This would mean yet another obstacle to letting go of the past – something he was keen to do as soon as possible – but if this was the only way to do it, he had to trust in Grant’s legal expertise.

Fair enough. Let’s give her what she wants. What do you need from me?

Grant seated himself at the desk and took out a manilla case file, slightly bulging at the edges.

"Well, I know you’ve already told me everything that happened, but let’s go over it one more time, in as much detail