"It should be called Shameless Exposure," said Caroline. She came straight out with it. "And the bit from my holiday diary can be the first chapter."
"Hang on a minute, I'm the writer in this household."
"Well you couldn't have written about my trip to Soho because you didn't know anything about it."
Stumped by Caroline's logic, I turned back to the beginning of the diary and imagined it as the start of a book about our experiences last winter at Castle Dunlaggin on the Isle of Mura...
I
suppose this is a confession, but it’s a confession of stupidity, not
unfaithfulness. It was a genuine mistake. Xena told me about the Orgatron
Training Centre, how everyone was going, and how fabulous her orgasms had
become. I tapped the address into my phone and it came up with a location in
Soho. Did Xena say Old Brompton Road?
Did I mishear and type in Brompton Row,
or did the phone just anticipate where I wanted to go?
27 Brompton Row was an old shop front
painted black. There was no big sign saying Orgatron Training Centre, but I
expected it to be discreet. I spoke my name into a crackling chrome box and was
admitted to a dim hallway with period décor; dado rails, deep skirting boards
and red damask wallpaper. I was met by a maid who spoke poor English.
“Thank goodness you come. Very particular
man. Must be red hair.” I had no idea what she was talking about. I had made my
appointment for a consultation at the Orgatron Centre a week previously, after
Xena had been so enthusiastic about it.
The maid, a small lady from somewhere like the
Philippines, couldn’t answer any of the questions I had lined up. I wanted to
know how much the course cost, how long you signed up for, whether you could
rent an Orgatron before deciding to buy. She just shook her head as if I was
mad and guided me into a dressing room full of theatrical costumes. She gave me
an ivory coloured corset, silk stockings, and frilly bloomers. She gestured
that I should take off my work clothes. I stripped and started to pull on the
bloomers but the maid looked horrified and shouted “No! Must be clean for
Chinese man.”
I said I wasn't sure anybody would be interested, but then I turned the page.