Some Girls Do (3 page)

At first she had tried to find a job in publishing, but if they were hard to come by in London, they were even scarcer in Dublin. So, determined to make the most of her circumstances, she had decided to shelve the idea for a while, get a relatively undemanding job, and concentrate instead on her writing. All her life, she had dreamed of being a writer, so it looked like a satisfactory Plan B. She had taken the job at Bookends, intending to devote all her free time to her novel.

It hadn’t worked out like that, though. Between her job and her mother, she had found she didn’t have as much time to herself as she’d hoped, and progress on the novel had been slow and patchy. Then, a couple of years ago, she had written an erotic piece as an exercise for a creative writing class. She had enjoyed it so much that she had set up a blog to practise sustaining a voice convincingly – as well as to give herself an outlet for her creativity that didn’t demand as much of her time.

She hadn’t expected it to be so successful, but the feedback had been gratifyingly enthusiastic from the start and spurred her on to continue. Now it was one of the most widely read and popular sex blogs on the net. It was fun to write, and its success was a great source of pride and satisfaction. She loved getting an instant response to something she had written, and the way her followers engaged with her was a tribute to how completely she had been able to inhabit her character, the anonymous NiceGirl. Her ‘About Me’ set out her mission statement:

I’m not a slut or a skank, just a nice girl who likes sex. Because nice girls do.

NiceGirl had her own Twitter and Facebook accounts, with thousands of friends and followers. Claire often wondered what they would think if they discovered the reality – a twenty-eight-year-old
woman who lived at home with her mother and had had sex only a few times in her life. Even then she hadn’t been sure what she was doing.

They would probably think she had all the hallmarks of a serial killer, she thought wryly, as she settled on the sofa with a glass of wine and opened up her laptop. There was a long, newsy email from Lisa, who was having a ball in Toronto. Claire enjoyed reading about her friend’s adventures. If things had been different, they would have gone to Canada together. Instead, she was in the same old rut, and when she tried to dredge up some news to put in a reply, she couldn’t think of a single thing.

She put the email aside to reply to later, and settled down to finish the blog post she had started at work. When she had published it, she logged onto Twitter as @NiceGirl and posted the link to it with the message:

In which I talk about shitty break-ups … literally.

Scrolling down her timeline, reading through recent tweets, she saw that Mark Bell was around. A well-known London publisher, he was young, handsome and hugely influential, and Claire knew she wasn’t alone in having a massive crush on him. He was the pin-up of London publishing, and had caused quite a flurry of excitement among the female members of her class when he had given a seminar on her MA course. As @NiceGirl, she had struck up an online friendship with him, and she loved their flirty, sparky relationship. He was a big fan of her blog, which was enormously flattering given his stature in the publishing world. She rated his opinion highly. She flicked back and forth between her blog and Twitter as the comments started rolling in on both, and it wasn’t long before Mark tweeted her.

PublisherMark
@NiceGirl Hello you! So, what are you wearing?

This had been a running joke between them since she had done a couple of posts on phone sex.

NiceGirl
@PublisherMark Isn’t this a bit public for that sort of thing?

PublisherMark
@NiceGirl Thought we could combine phone sex & exhibitionism by doing it in public on Twitter.

NiceGirl
@PublisherMark Two of my favourite things! What are *you* wearing?

PublisherMark
@NiceGirl Necktie

NiceGirl
@PublisherMark Nothing else?

PublisherMark
@NiceGirl It’s dress-down Tuesday here.

NiceGirl
@PublisherMark I bet your staff appreciate that.

PublisherMark
@NiceGirl My rod and staff are delighted. They enjoy the freedom.

Claire giggled and took a sip of her wine.

PublisherMark
@NiceGirl Actually, I was working at home today. But the cat likes it.

NiceGirl
@PublisherMark How is the cat?

PublisherMark
@NiceGirl She’s great. Very feline.

NiceGirl
@PublisherMark Huh! Typical cat.

PublisherMark
@NiceGirl You never told me what you’re wearing.

NiceGirl
@PublisherMark A big smile.

PublisherMark
@NiceGirl Did you wear that for me?

NiceGirl
@PublisherMark Of course. I know it’s your favourite.

Locksie
@PublisherMark @NiceGirl Oh, get a room, you two!

@Locksie was Emma Locke, a colleague of Mark’s and a mutual Twitter friend.

PublisherMark
@NiceGirl @Locksie Don’t pay any attention to her. Just jealous because we’re burning up Twitter with our smokin’ hot chemistry.

NiceGirl
@PublisherMark We’ll have to get a smoking room, then.

PublisherMark
@NiceGirl Or we could get steamy in a steam room. Sorry about Mr Handy, by the way.

NiceGirl
@PublisherMark Oh, well, better to be the dumper than the dumped on.

PublisherMark
@NiceGirl I never thought he was right for you anyway. Seemed like a bit of a shit.

NiceGirl
@PublisherMark He was full of it all right. Very anal.

PublisherMark
@NiceGirl So, about that room …

NiceGirl
@PublisherMark I don’t know. How would your cat feel about that?

PublisherMark
@NiceGirl She’s not the jealous type. We have a very open relationship.

NiceGirl
@PublisherMark Really?

PublisherMark
@NiceGirl Yeah. I suspect she already has someone else on the go.

NiceGirl
@PublisherMark Comes home smelling of another cat?

PublisherMark
@NiceGirl Doesn’t come home at all some nights. Always out catting around. *Sniff*

NiceGirl
@PublisherMark She doesn’t deserve you.

PublisherMark
@NiceGirl Well, I’m open to offers. You sound like a nice girl …

NiceGirl
@PublisherMark Hey, ‘nice’ is my middle name. Actually, it’s my first name.

Claire had another sip of wine and relaxed back against the sofa, feeling warm and tingly from their flirting. This was so much more fun than spending the night in a packed, noisy bar, with random guys hitting on her with cheesy lines. Okay, there wasn’t even the chance of a snog but the upside of that was that she didn’t have to endure the tedium of standing around for hours in uncomfortable shoes, bored to death, shouting herself hoarse to be heard over pounding music. Chatting to Mark, she felt she was experiencing a little bit of the London literary life she had always dreamed of. She was grateful that the internet gave her access to it in some small way, but it also made her yearn for it in real life – socialising with people who cared about the same things as she did and shared the same interests, finding a boyfriend who belonged to that world, maybe meeting Mark himself …

She drifted away from Twitter to check the comments on her blog, and she was in the middle of typing a reply to one when a direct message popped up on Twitter. Her heart skipped a beat when she saw it was from Mark and she felt a little spark of pleasure, almost as if he had touched her.

PublisherMark
Hi! Could we meet up IRL? I have a proposition for you.

Claire’s heart was pounding as she read the message. She felt excited and a little nervous. She had never expected their flirting to carry through into real life. Had he really meant it about getting that room? she wondered, simultaneously thrilled and appalled. It took her a while to decide on a noncommittal response.

NiceGirl
What sort of proposition?

PublisherMark
It’s about your blog. Would like to discuss doing a book. DM me your email address if you’re interested.

Claire experienced a fleeting twinge of disappointment, but it was quickly replaced by elation. Mark was interested in turning her blog into a book. This could be huge! Maybe Mark was about to make her dream of becomming a published author a reality.

She sent him the anonymous email address she used for blog purposes, and then she waited. She had expected him to email her immediately, but the minutes ticked by and nothing appeared in her inbox. He seemed to have disappeared from Twitter. She scrolled back through her timeline and found that his last tweet had been when he was chatting to her. She would just have to be patient, she thought, trying to busy herself with replying to comments on her blog and chatting to other people. Finally, she decided to step away from the computer for a while, and went to the kitchen to make dinner: a watched inbox never delivered.

She had just made sauce and put pasta on to cook when she heard the email alert on her laptop and raced back to the sofa. It was from Mark with the subject ‘Proposition’. She was almost afraid to read it, hesitating for a few seconds before clicking it open.

Hi NiceGirl

It was good to chat this evening, and thanks for the email address. Sorry for the delay in getting back to you. I was meeting some friends on the Heath for a run and they turned up.

So, here’s the thing. As you know, I’m a big fan of your blog, and I’d love to publish a book based on it, if you’d be interested in doing that. I think we could sell a lot of copies. Perhaps we could meet up to discuss it, if you’re willing to reveal your true identity. It would be great to meet you in person.

Hoping to hear from you

Mark x

Claire scanned the email rapidly, barely able to take in what it said. Then she read it again, analysing every word and nuance. The tone was less chummy and a little more formal than when they were chatting on Twitter, which was only to be expected when he was contacting her in a professional capacity. But he had signed off with a kiss, and there was nothing proper or professional about that. She was going to meet him in real life – and he was interested in offering her a book deal! She squealed with delight, hugging herself as she read the message again. Then she jumped up and did a little dance around the living room, glad her mother wasn’t there to witness it. There was no way she’d have been able to explain her behaviour, and it was nice to celebrate a little, even if she was alone. She poured herself some more wine and raised the glass to her laptop in a toast, then sat back down and composed herself to type a reply.

Hi Mark

I would love to do a book based on the blog. It would be a dream come true for me! It would be great to meet you in person. I’m in Dublin (Ireland, not Ohio). But I would be happy to come to London to meet you, if that suits.

Thank you! You’ve made my day/week/year!

All the best

NiceGirl x

She agonised for ages about how to sign off – should she use her real name? Or should she sign off with a kiss like he had? In the end, she decided to hold off revealing her true identity, at least until they had hammered out the details a bit more. But she didn’t want to seem stand-offish, so she went for the kiss. A couple of minutes later, a reply came back.

Great! Would like to meet up sooner rather than later. I’ll be in Dublin in the next couple of weeks. Not sure of the exact date yet, but I’ll let you know as soon as I have it and we can arrange where and when to meet. Aren’t you going to tell me your real name? And how will I recognise you? Or are you really a cartoon?

Claire smiled. Her avatar was a sexy cartoon woman. She replied:

I’ll tell you my real name when we meet. And I know what you look like – I’ll find you.

When they had emailed their goodbyes back and forth, Claire flopped back on the sofa, unable to settle to anything. She was so keyed up, longing to tell someone and go out to celebrate. But there was no one she could tell – at least, not yet. Her friend Catherine was the only person who knew about her blog, and she was on holiday. She would just have to keep it to herself for the moment. She went into the kitchen, found a bottle of cava in the fridge and opened it. When she had poured herself a glass, she finished making her dinner and sat down at the table. She would usually have turned on the television or read a book if she was eating alone, but tonight she did neither, enjoying the peace and quiet so she could absorb her news.

It was only later, after she had drunk half the bottle of cava, that worry set in. She was going to have to come out from behind her avatar and meet Mark in real life. She was nothing like the sassy sex bomb he would be expecting, and he’d probably be
seriously disillusioned when he discovered she was just an ordinary girl with zero seduction skills. Maybe he wouldn’t even want to publish the book after he’d met her.

She needed a makeover, and fast. She didn’t have anything in her wardrobe remotely suitable for impersonating her alter ego. And she was meeting Mark in the next couple of weeks. She hadn’t much time.

Chapter Three

As she got ready to go out on Friday, Claire found herself wishing she could stay at home, open a bottle of wine, get a takeaway and spend the evening curled up on the sofa. The weather wasn’t helping her resolve. As she was on her way home from work, it had started raining heavily, and since then it had turned into a newsworthy downpour that was already causing traffic chaos, making the sofa more appealing than ever.

But it had been kind of Yvonne to ask her, and she felt she should make the effort – not just for Yvonne’s sake but for her own too. She needed to push herself out of her comfort zone. And you couldn’t let a bit of rain stop you going out – not when you lived in Ireland.