What Goes Around: - By Carol Marinelli Page 0,1

just never thought that it would be happening to me.

That I’d be sitting in a doctors office on a Saturday afternoon discussing my husbands floppy willy. ‘It’s just hard sometimes…’ I say, and then I smile at her. ‘Well actually, it’s not.’ But she doesn’t get my little joke I think, because she doesn’t smile back – there are no double entendres with Doctor Patel. She just looks at me with her solemn brown eyes and waits for my smile to fade.

Then we chat for a little while longer.

Well, she does.

She gives me all these pamphlets, one about his problem, one for partners dealing with his problem and then she suggests that perhaps I could try talking to him again, let him know that it’s concerning me…

‘Or, I could just leave these by the bedside!’ I smile, but again it isn’t returned.

I don’t think she gets me.

Well, I know that she doesn’t when she reminds me that the surgery offers counselling and couples counselling. Oh, and I’m to make an appointment with the practice nurse to get some blood work done and my blood pressure checked. I get a few more pamphlets to read – there are pamphlets for everything it would seem.

It’s me that’s nodding now, I just want out of here.

I smile and I thank her, tuck the leaflets into my bag and then I wave to Beth at reception and head outside.

I’ll ring and make an appointment on Monday – I’m not asking Beth. Isn’t high blood pressure something that old people get?

Not thirty-six years olds who take care of themselves - and I do take care of myself, absolutely I do.

I promptly bin the leaflets.

I shouldn’t have said anything.

I’m cross with myself that I did.

She didn’t even give me some decent headache tablets.

I’ve got an hour to kill before my hair appointment, we’re going to a dinner party tonight but as I walk down to the high street, it’s with purpose.

I’m going to fix his little problem by more traditional means!

I step into my favourite boutique and yes, I thought I knew what I was wearing tonight, but I’ve changed my mind.

It’s spring.

I flick through the racks and I don’t know what I want, but I’ll know it when I see. My hand hovers on a dress, but it’s different from my usual. It’s a blood red dress and it’s got huge silver flowers on it. It sounds disgusting, I know, and really, it’s so not me but, as the assistant assured me when I held it up, it does look stunning on.

I think.

It’s sort of Grecian and floaty and it falls really well. It’s the sort of red that looks perfect with blonde. I’m showing an awful lot of skin though and I don’t have my spray tan booked till Monday.

I glance at the price tag and even I blink, but really, I love it and with heels and make up...

I hate those disgusting shoes that they leave in the changing rooms, so I don’t slip them on but I step outside and, as I look in the larger mirror, I see the assistant smile…

She doesn’t always.

I do trust her (sort of), but really I don’t need her opinion, I’m already in love, I just want her to confirm it.

‘You look amazing.’

I do.

I spend another small fortune on underwear, which is nothing new - I can shop for England.

I do know what I’m doing in the underwear department - I am subtle, I swear - I don’t want to terrify him! I just know that if my dress slips a fraction he’ll get a glimpse of lovely silvery lace and I am going to sort this.

With Ricky’s help!

‘Curls!’ He says when I show him my dress. ‘Loads of curls, Lucy.’ He’s as excited as me. ‘So what have you got on tonight?’

‘Just his work thing.’ I don’t wrinkle my nose as I usually do - I’ve got a different agenda tonight.

I chat away to Alexis, who’s in the next chair, as Ricky gets to work. She’s got a daughter in the pony club too and she asks how Charlotte is doing without Noodle. We had to let him go a couple of weeks ago, she was just far too big for him and, when a chance for him to be a companion pony came along, it was just too good to pass up but, of course, Charlotte was devastated.

‘She’s a bit better…’ I turn my head to talk but Ricky tells me to keep still,