The Never Have I Ever Club

  Also by Mary Jayne Baker

  A Question of Us

  THE NEVER HAVE I EVER CLUB

  Mary Jayne Baker

  AN IMPRINT OF HEAD OF ZEUS

  www.ariafiction.com

  First published in the United Kingdom in 2020 by Aria, an imprint of Head of Zeus Ltd

  Copyright © Mary Jayne Baker, 2020

  The moral right of Mary Jayne Baker to be identified as the author of this work has been asserted in accordance with the Copyright, Designs and Patents Act of 1988.

  All rights reserved. No part of this publication may be reproduced, stored in a retrieval system, or transmitted, in any form or by any means, electronic, mechanical, photocopying, recording, or otherwise, without the prior permission of both the copyright owner and the above publisher of this book.

  This is a work of fiction. All characters, organizations, and events portrayed in this novel are either products of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously.

  A CIP catalogue record for this book is available from the British Library.

  ISBN: 9781789546149

  Aria

  c/o Head of Zeus

  First Floor East

  5–8 Hardwick Street

  London EC1R 4RG

  www.ariafiction.com

  Contents

  Welcome Page

  Copyright

  Dedication

  Chapter 1

  Chapter 2

  Chapter 3

  Chapter 4

  Chapter 5

  Chapter 6

  Chapter 7

  Chapter 8

  Chapter 9

  Chapter 10

  Chapter 11

  Chapter 12

  Chapter 13

  Chapter 14

  Chapter 15

  Chapter 16

  Chapter 17

  Chapter 18

  Chapter 19

  Chapter 20

  Chapter 21

  Chapter 22

  Chapter 23

  Chapter 24

  Chapter 25

  Chapter 26

  Chapter 27

  Chapter 28

  Chapter 29

  Chapter 30

  Chapter 31

  Chapter 32

  Chapter 33

  Chapter 34

  Chapter 35

  Chapter 36

  Chapter 37

  Chapter 38

  Chapter 39

  Chapter 40

  Acknowledgements

  About the Author

  Become an Aria Addict

  The Never Have I Ever Club was completed at a time when everyone in the UK was being reminded on a daily basis how proud, lucky and humbled we ought to feel to have the NHS, and the incredible men and women who work for it. This book is dedicated to them.

  1

  The fluorescent strip lights seared into Robyn’s brain in a shade of white she’d decided to name Guantanamo Ivory.

  She assumed she could thank the daytime drinking for her headache. Two glasses of wine with lunch. Not a regular habit, but she’d felt the need for some Dutch courage.

  She stopped at the hand gel dispenser, squeezed out a blob and rubbed it into her skin.

  Cliff Cockburn was there, the corner shop owner’s hacking cough drowning out the hum of easy-listening jazz in the background. A harassed parent cuddled a snivelling, red-faced toddler and a stack of very out-of-date literature sat untouched on the table.

  Doctors’ waiting rooms. They had to be the worst places in the world, with the possible exception of airport lounges and municipal swimming pools.

  There was a self-check-in machine by the receptionist’s desk. Robyn tapped in her details, then frowned as it displayed the words NO APPOINTMENT FOUND.

  Swearing under her breath, she approached the desk.

  ‘Hi, Mrs Sykes,’ she said to the receptionist. ‘Your machine’s not finding my appointment.’

  ‘Oh, pay no attention to that thing, it’s always playing up,’ Mrs Sykes said, casting a resentful glance at the machine. ‘Now, it’s Robyn Bloom, isn’t it?’

  ‘That’s right.’

  Mrs Sykes tapped at her keyboard. ‘Yes, we’ve got you: 2.15pm, Dr Barnes.’

  ‘No, that’s not right. Dr Kaur’s my doctor, I’m here to see her.’

  The receptionist frowned. ‘Not according to our records. It’s Dr Barnes you’ve been booked in with.’

  ‘What? But I was quite clear I…’ Robyn took a deep breath. ‘I’m sorry, but I’d really prefer to see Dr Kaur.’

  ‘Hmm. Young lad, was it? That you spoke to when you rang?’

  ‘Yes, why?’

  ‘Bloody Jason,’ she muttered. ‘That’s three times now he’s muddled the appointments.’ She glanced up with a conciliatory grimace. ‘I’m sorry, love. I’m training my grandson to work on reception and he’s a bit dithery. Looks like he’s put you in with the wrong doctor.’

  Ugh. Was there anything in this place that worked?

  ‘These things happen,’ Robyn said, forcing a smile. ‘But can I please see Dr Kaur? I’d prefer to speak to a female doctor.’

  ‘I’m afraid she’s over at the Glen surgery in Longcliffe this afternoon. We’ve only got Doctors Sykes and Barnes here.’

  ‘Could I drive there?’

  Mrs Sykes tapped at her keyboard and shook her head. ‘She’s fully booked for today. I could reschedule for you?’

  Robyn hesitated. She could reschedule, but… she knew she’d have no rest, no sleep, till she’d been checked out.

  ‘No.’ She exhaled through her teeth. ‘No, it’s fine. I’ll see Will then – Dr Barnes.’

  ‘Right. Just take a seat and he’ll be with you shortly.’

  Robyn went to sit in the waiting room. She grabbed an old Cosmo from the pile, gazed listlessly at the pouting cover model, then tossed it back.

  Ten minutes later, Dr Will Barnes emerged from his consulting room.

  ‘Bloom,’ he said, nodding. ‘What, you missed me so much that you just had to come see me at work?’

  She couldn’t help smiling. Easy charm was a trademark of the Barnes boys, who’d played on it shamefully all through their – and her – school years. It hadn’t been much of a stretch for Will to repurpose his flirting into bedside manner.

  ‘Mmm. Must be your magnetic personality,’ she said, standing up.

  ‘Well, I can’t argue with that. Come on through.’

  In his room, she perched on the edge of a chair, her legs tightly crossed.

  ‘Right,’ Will said, firing up his computer. ‘So according to this, you’ve got “women’s issues”. I hate to tell you this, Bloom, but that’s not a valid medical complaint. Can you be any more specific for me?’

  She looked down at her feet.

  How the hell was she supposed to talk about this with him? Bad enough he was a bloke. Bad enough he was Ash Barnes’s brother. Bad enough he was her next-door neighbour. But then he had the nerve to sit there with Ash’s face, her ex-boyfriend’s face, smiling and expecting her to make casual chitchat about her lady parts like it was no big deal.

  ‘Um, I’ve had some… bleeding,’ she said at last. ‘At a time when I’d expect not to have. It’s stopped now, but for around four days last week.’

  ‘Heavy?’

  ‘No. Well, enough to worry me.’

  ‘Right. And this isn’t something you’ve experienced before?’

  ‘Never. My periods have always been regular.’

  ‘Where were you in your cycle?’

  ‘Around the middle, I guess.’

  He looked up from the notes he was making. ‘Was this after sex?’

  Her cheeks flamed an even deeper shade of crimson. ‘No
. Just… random.’

  ‘And is there any chance you could be pregnant?’

  ‘Doubt it. I’ve heard a rumour you need to have sex first.’

  ‘Okay, I’ll take that as a no,’ he said, scribbling in doctor-esque gibberish on his clipboard. ‘When did you last have sex?’

  ‘You live next door, mate – you tell me.’

  He smiled. ‘Come on, Bloom, meet me halfway here. You know I won’t judge.’

  ‘You can’t need to know that.’

  ‘I’m sorry, I do. Just, you know, ballpark. It rules a few things out, that’s all.’

  ‘I don’t remember exactly. At least six months ago. Before me and Ash broke up.’

  ‘And any unusual discharge other than the bleeding?’

  ‘No,’ she muttered. ‘God, Will, I feel so embarrassed talking about this with you. I wanted to see Darya Kaur, but she wasn’t available.’

  He looked up. ‘Oh, right. I didn’t realise that. Would you prefer to reschedule with her?’

  ‘No thanks. I won’t have any peace until I’ve got this over with.’

  He flashed her a reassuring smile. ‘Well, there’s really no need to be embarrassed. I’m a doctor; I deal with these things every day.’

  ‘I know. Um, will you need to… you know, examine me?’

  ‘I’ll need to take swabs, but I can refer you to someone else if that’s going to make you uncomfortable. Sykesy’s got free appointments this afternoon, or I can book you in with either Darya or the practice nurse for another day if you’d rather see a woman.’

  ‘No, I don’t want to wait. I want it out of the way.’

  ‘Would you prefer to see Dr Sykes then?’

  This was the problem with living in a tiny Yorkshire Dales village like Kettlewick. Nearly everyone had a connection to you, or to some friend or relative – your doctor included. Robyn would have felt slightly less uncomfortable with Darya, who at least had all the same bits as her. She’d feel excruciatingly embarrassed with sixty-five-year-old Donald Sykes, the senior GP in an old family practice, who used to run the am-dram group she’d been in as a kid and was a mate of her dad’s.

  No, awkward as it was, she’d prefer to be seen by an old friend like Will. She was about to make herself very vulnerable, and she’d rather that was with someone she knew and trusted. And it was true, wasn’t it? Doctors dealt with this stuff all the time. She might be embarrassed, but to Will it was just another body – another day in the office.

  ‘No,’ she said. ‘No, I’d rather have you, please.’

  ‘You’ll have a female chaperone, obviously. I’ll ask Mrs Sykes to come in.’

  Oh, great. Someone else she wouldn’t be able to look in the eye when they bumped into each other down the shop.

  ‘Fine.’ She let out a long breath. ‘I’m scared, Will. That it’s, you know… something bad.’

  ‘Chances are it’s nothing. Most things are. The sooner we get it checked out, the sooner you can get your peace of mind back.’ He nodded to the curtained examination area. ‘You get ready while I fetch Mrs Sykes. I’m sure you know the drill from your regular smears.’

  ‘Okay,’ she said with a nervous smile. ‘Will there be snuggling after?’

  He groaned. ‘Oh God, here we go.’

  ‘What?’

  ‘The wisecracks. Every bloody time I have to do a cervical or prostate exam.’ He sighed. ‘Go on, get them out of your system. “At least buy me dinner first” usually comes next.’

  ‘Will you? Because I could murder a burger and chips.’

  ‘No.’ He gave her arm a pat. ‘Look, it’s fine, Bloom, really. There’s absolutely no need to feel awkward. Not to make you feel cheap, but you’re not my first vagina.’ He stood up and gestured to the examination area. ‘Now go on, darling, get in there and spread ’em. I promise I’ll be gentle with you.’

  She couldn’t help laughing. ‘Smooth.’

  ‘Thanks. Like I said, not my first time.’

  Oh, he was good, she thought as she wriggled out of her pants behind the curtain. He knew that cracking a few jokes, just being his usual daft self, would help put her at ease. In fact, for a minute, she’d almost forgotten how terrified she was about what might be wrong. Actually, it’d been kind of nice, like old times – before Ash had left. Except in those days the conversation hadn’t tended to revolve around her private parts quite so much.

  And now there they were, her private parts, exposed to the cold, naked chill of the surgery’s air con under her maxi skirt. And there were the nerves, back in force. Thank God she’d remembered to do her bikini line.

  She looked around for somewhere to stash her knickers, realised there was nowhere and stuffed them into her bra.

  Robyn heard the consulting room door close as Will came in with Mrs Sykes.

  ‘Right,’ he said. ‘Are you ready for us in there?’

  ‘Um…’ She glanced longingly at the door, just visible through the slit in the green paper curtains, then lay down on the bed. ‘As I’ll ever be.’

  *

  Freya leaned forward, barely noticing her hair falling into her wine. ‘And then what?’

  Robyn shook her head. ‘You two are loving this, aren’t you?’

  ‘Come on, Rob, you can’t just leave us hanging.’

  Next to Freya, her brother Eliot nodded emphatically.

  ‘Don’t you guys have invasive medical procedures of your own you can get off on?’ Robyn demanded.

  ‘No,’ Eliot said. ‘So as a charitable Kettlewick citizen, it’s only right you should share yours.’

  ‘Fine.’ Robyn lowered her voice so the story of her epic humiliation wouldn’t be audible to every drinker in the Boon Companions. ‘So, Will and Mrs Sykes come in and he’s brandishing this giant lubed-up speculum – I mean this thing was two foot long if it was an inch, I swear. With sodding claws on the end.’

  ‘Claws?’

  ‘I’m sure it had claws. Some proper Roswell shit. And I’m lying there, legs spread, eyes watering, then Will says – right, get this. “Don’t worry, Bloom,” he says, waggling this humongous metal schlong at me. “You won’t feel a thing.”’

  Eliot snorted.

  ‘He’s taking the piss,’ Freya said.

  ‘Course he is, he’s Will.’ Robyn smiled. ‘But the jokes did kind of take the edge off. He’s good at that stuff.’

  ‘Did it hurt?’ Eliot asked.

  ‘Well yeah, course it hurt, El. It’s a three-foot-long rod made of hard, cold steel.’

  ‘It’s grown.’

  ‘It’ll probably grow some more by the end of the story.’ Robyn took a reviving gulp of wine. ‘Anyway, that wasn’t the worst bit.’

  Freya cocked an eyebrow. ‘Being rogered by a ten-foot steel probe wasn’t the worst bit?’

  ‘No.’ She grimaced. ‘It was him. Will. I mean, when I looked down and he was… there.’

  Eliot frowned. ‘Well he’d have to be there, wouldn’t he? If he was examining your bits.’

  Freya nudged him. ‘She means because of his brother, you prat.’

  ‘Oh. Oh! Yeah, that’d be weird.’

  ‘I really didn’t think the whole identical twin thing through when I started seeing Ash,’ Robyn said. ‘You can wave goodbye to your bastard, but his doppelgänger in the house next door isn’t so easy to shift.’

  ‘Will’s not a bastard,’ Freya said.

  ‘Never said he was.’

  ‘You implied it.’

  ‘Maybe I did.’ She sighed. ‘I know Will’s Will and Ash is Ash. I’ve got no beef with Will; he’s a nice lad. But he’s wearing the face of a man who unceremoniously dumped me six months ago and is currently on a beach in Western Australia having lazy, sun-drenched, and – if there’s any possibility there really is a God – quite possibly herpes-ridden sex with a girl more than ten years his junior.’

  ‘Not Will’s fault, is it?’

  ‘No. But he’s genetically identical to the person whose fault it is, and
that’s a tough one to get your head round. I mean, technically they’re the same human being.’

  ‘That’s not how it works, Rob. There’s more to people than DNA.’

  Robyn shook her head, scowling. ‘Eight months me and Ash were together, and mates for decades before that, yet still he… every time I look at Will, all I can see is his knob of a brother giving me that excruciating “it’s not you, it’s me” speech the day we broke up.’

  ‘Pretty unfair on poor Will.’

  ‘I know it is. I feel awful about it, but it just… hurts, you know?’

  ‘If we could return to the issue of Robyn’s front bottom for a moment,’ Eliot said. ‘How is it? Clean bill of health?’

  ‘I won’t know till my swab results come back, but Will said everything looked normal. He thought the extra period might just be an anomaly.’

  ‘And you feel better?’

  ‘A bit, but I won’t be able to properly relax until I get the test results.’

  ‘When will that be?’

  ‘Two weeks. I’ll get a text if it’s fine.’

  ‘Which it definitely will be,’ Freya said. ‘Right. Are we starting tonight’s meeting?’

  ‘Hang on,’ Robyn said. ‘Drinks first.’

  When Robyn had made a trip to the bar, Freya took a gavel from her handbag and banged it on the table.

  ‘Okay, welcome one and all to the seventh weekly meeting of The Happy Singles Club. We’ll waive the singing of the club song, “I Will Survive”, and get straight to business.’

  Robyn shook her head at Eliot. ‘I can’t believe you bought her a gavel.’

  ‘Aww. But she does love it so,’ Eliot said, giving his sister a squeeze.

  ‘So. Eliot,’ Freya said. ‘I understand you’ve devised a new game to underline how much better off we all are in our single, manless state. Tell us more.’

  ‘It’s called “What’s Wrong With Him?”. I made it up when I was browsing Match.com last night.’

  Freya frowned. ‘I shouldn’t need to remind you, El, that browsing dating websites is strictly against club rules.’

  ‘Hey, this was research.’ He took out his phone. ‘Okay, let’s give it a go. What do you reckon?’