No-One Ever Has Sex on a Tuesday Read Online Free Page A

Alison carefully lifted George and placed him on her shoulder to wind him as Rebecca continued to feed. Checking her watch, she reached over and with one hand reset the digital timer. ‘Another eight minutes should do it,’ she said, adjusting Rebecca slightly to make her more comfortable.
    Matthew watched Alison in her calm, ruthless efficiency as advocated by the baby-rearing guru Gina Ford. Eight minutes would be fine, he thought to himself. Eight minutes would do. Five minutes, actually, would probably be more than enough.
    ‘Does Gina’s regime not timetable sex?’ he muttered. ‘Surely she’s thought of that in her grand plan.’
    ‘She covers that in a different book,’ Alison told him. ‘I’ve not ordered it yet.’
    ‘I’ll get it if you like,’ he offered. ‘Let you know what she says.’
    ‘No, it’s okay,’ she replied. ‘I’ll get round to it. Do you want to take George upstairs and start to run the bath? I’ll be up in a minute with Rebecca.’
    Matthew took George from her, gently planting a kiss on top of his head, feeling the fine hair tickling his nostrils.
    ‘I’ll bath them and put them both down if you like,’ he offered. ‘Seeing as I’m off out later. You have a break.’
    Alison looked up at him.
    ‘You won’t manage it on your own. Not with two of them.’
    ‘I’ll work it out.’
    ‘But . . . but what will you do with Rebecca whilst George is in the bath?’
    ‘I’ll work it out. She can lie on a towel or something.’
    ‘But you don’t know how to use the temperature gauge for the water.’
    ‘I’ll work it out, Alison.’
    ‘But what if you let it get too hot?’
    ‘I am not going to burn our children.’
    Alison looked down at Rebecca and stroked her head.
    ‘There’s really no need,’ she said, looking back up at Matthew. ‘We can do it together. It’ll be quicker, then you won’t be late for meeting Ian at the pub.’
    Matthew sighed. Only he could be married to a woman who could organise herself into not requiring any help from her husband with their twins.
    ‘Are you sure you don’t mind me going out?’ he asked, secretly hoping she might beg him to stay home. He missed the long evenings they used to spend together over her delightful home-cooked food and great wine, when they would talk about each other’s days and then plot and plan their future together. Alison was so preoccupied with the twins that her ability to focus on a conversation that didn’t involve nappies or sleep routines was non-existent. He dreamed of one evening having a conversation with his wife rather than just the mother of his children. He missed his wife terribly.
    ‘Of course I don’t mind you going out,’ she said.
    ‘I don’t have to, you know.’
    ‘Matthew, it’s the first time you’ve been out since the babies arrived. It’s fine, really. There’s nothing you can do here anyway. Everything is under control.’
    ‘So what do you reckon, then?’ asked Ian as they sat in the Green Man later that evening.
    ‘About what?’ asked Matthew, his chin resting on his hand as he stared at the bottom of his empty pint glass.
    ‘Her?’ replied Ian, nodding after Becki, who had just excused herself from the table to go to the bathroom. Matthew hadn’t expected that Ian would bring his latest girlfriend along on their first night out together in weeks. He’d actually been looking forward to man talk: sport, and possibly some work gossip, given that they both worked for the same financial advisory company. What he hadn’t expected was to be sharing his evening with Becki, a strapping twenty-five-year-old blonde call centre worker, who for some unbelievable reason thought that the sun shone out of Ian’s forty-two-year-old saggy, divorced backside.
    ‘She’s fucking unbelievable,’ said Ian. ‘I tell you, she cannot get enough of me. And I mean
enough
of me. I seriously think she might actually be trying to wear it out.’ He winked at Matthew. Ian’s