Free Aphrodite's Workshop for Reluctant Lovers by Marika Cobbold Page A

won’t be on your own for long, madam.’
    He meant it as compliment, a comfort and an encouragement, but he needn’t have worried. Alone in my flat, my own flat bought by me, for me, with my own money, gazing out of the window at the view, a view that would soon be as familiar to me as my own face in the mirror, and listening to the sounds of the passing traffic, a sound that would soon be so familiar I would hear it no more unless an exception occurred, a crash or a faulty exhaust. I felt at peace for the first time in a long while.
    â€˜Books in here, madam?’ The foreman pointed to the sitting room. I went to join him. ‘I couldn’t help noticing when we packed up your old place that your name was on a lot of them books.’
    I nodded. As usual in these circumstances I could feel the slight modest smile on my face. This was rather annoying, I know; after all, you didn’t find lawyers or bankers or even firemen and doctors looking bashful and pleased when asked about their chosen careers, so why did I feel the need to acknowledge the fact that I wrote books in the manner of someone accepting an award?
    â€˜So what are they about then, your books?’
    â€˜Oh about life and people and love.’
    â€˜Romances then.’
    â€˜Romantic fiction,’ I said.
    â€˜Oh yeah. Is there a difference then?’
    â€˜Sometimes,’ I muttered.
    â€˜I moved another lady who wrote romances last year. You two might know each other: Sally Kendall, her name was. Then again maybe she wrote under another name.’
    I shook my head.
    â€˜I don’t know her, I’m afraid.’
    â€˜She’s written hundreds of books. All love stories. She was a lady on her own just like you; funny that, when you think about it.’
    I had bought a new bed but I still kept to my side. The first night my ex-husband and I shared a bed he asked to sleep on the right-hand side; he said that way his sword arm was free. I remember thinking that would have to depend on whether Tim slept on his back or his side and then on which side but I hadn’t argued because it had been a nice idea. Since then, throughout my marriage, after its break-up and during my five years with Dominic, I had remained sleeping on the left-hand side. Maybe only when I woke up one morning sprawled across the middle of a king-sized bed would I be truly a free woman.

Mount Olympus
    EVERY TIME I SEE Mother she seems more stressed. Nothing seems to be going right. Another Hollywood marriage gone bust, another high-profile adultery involving a politician, another mindless crime committed by some kid from a broken home. And all of it blamed on us, on Mother and me.
    Athene said that if Mother could not keep one mortal, a favoured mortal to boot, in line then could she really be trusted running her own cult? Of course no one told Athene to wind it in, instead Zeus sat there looking wise, Hera smirked – she’s always been jealous of Mother – and even Harmonia looked away without saying anything. Mother went as white as alabaster, her eyes turning the colour of a frozen sea. I ran up to her; she was standing up at the time and I thought she might collapse. She turned to me with this tiny smile and put her hand on my shoulder for support. I was gutted for her obviously, but at the same time I couldn’t help feeling kind of happy because at least now she needed me.
    Today she hasn’t even left her room so I go in to check on her. She’s slumped on her couch, barely looking up as I enter, but she says, ‘That wretched girl Ate was right about Rebecca Finch. I’ve gone over some of the tapes and there she is, clearly seen counselling a young girl against marriage, pouring scorn on the idea of love everlasting.’
    â€˜I suppose she has a point. I mean it doesn’t last usually, not even for you and you’re the goddess for fuck’s sake.’
    â€˜Don’t
swear
, Eros! Anyway