There was always something a little gullible about Major Wolfe, occasionally naive, sometimes a step behind the others. Back in med school she'd felt like the height of sophistication at the bathroom sink, painting her mousy hair with a box of blonde from Woolworths. Not realising how sheltered she had been until her decision to join the army. Over the years she had hardened into the abrupt Major, no longer the sweeter, more trusting girl she was before. She hadn't realised how much Marcus had missed that until the divorce.

'You're not like other girls' said Marcus, wonderingly, as he ran his hands through her long hair, pressing himself to her, sneaking in quick little kisses. No girl had that barking laugh she was known for around campus, it had really turned his head. It was flattering, of course it was and she had accepted it with a steady demeanour. She had always been stoic, it was the way she'd been brought up and although the feel of his fingers on her skin gave her a tingle, it was pleasant enough. She hadn't felt the momentum of the situation, even in the weeks leading up to their wedding. Everyone had told her she would but she couldn't make herself feel as excited as she was told she must be. He's proposed, she'd said yes because…why had she said yes? Because he was the best she was going to get. He looked at her like she was the sun. She'd let herself be swayed by that. It was strange to be a pair, the insistence that they must do so many things together from that point on. It hadn't rankled until a few years later. When babies and the army and the conjugal bed had turned into a balancing act and she'd started getting impatient with him.

'I really miss the girl you were Bernie, do you know that?' He said.

But she wasn't that girl anymore. She was a grown woman who thrived in her job, the job she'd spent years training for and now she was on maternity leave trying to pacify a toddler who had barely stopped crying and wanting to paw at her aching nipples even though there was no more milk to feed him. Sometimes she could hardly remember the time where they were happy and it felt like her fault.

'I'm not a girl anymore, Marcus.'

They had been happy at the beginning. She remembered the day that Marcus hadn't been able to resist and had wanted to have sex before the wedding. She'd said ok. They were getting married in a month, what was the big deal whether it was now or later? He had been thrilled, not knowing that there would be a time where she would push back so defiantly.

She wasn't like those other girls. She seemed above drama, unconcerned about things that would annoy someone else. Like his childhood sweetheart. Bernie hadn't been bothered about that piece of his past; the girl he'd thought he'd marry if she hadn't dumped him over some hairy trucker. Bernie was different. She certainly had the biggest nipples he'd ever seen on a woman.

He'd had a shock once he'd slipped her knickers down, staring at the mismatched bush before him. She didn't know what he was reacting about. She laughed at his exclamation that 'I thought you were a natural blonde!'

'Don't say you hadn't noticed before.'

'No. How would I?'

She'd laughed at his inobservance and not noticing mousy roots and at her silliness for not dying her muff to match. She never did get round to doing it.

It was one of the few stories they could recollect where they had laughed like they were free as birds, even after their messy divorce. After it had finally settled down into begrudging mutual tolerance, that was the story that had still made them laugh. That and the cushions. Not that they could tell their children that.

He'd only realised how odd she was until he'd slipped the condom on and slid his arms about her legs, stroking her knees. She seemed rather relaxed, sprawled out on the cushions of his parents' bed, looking like a nymph on top of the duvet. She had seemed content with his clumsy foreplay, he knew that he needed a bit of practice, it had been a couple of years since he last did it. He manoeuvred himself up, kneeling inbetween her legs, his heart hammering at the thought of possessing this creature, so unlike his previous girlfriend.
Valerie had been transparent in so many ways and had been quite a squealer. As was that handful of other girls he'd bedded after her. Bernie seemed beyond reach and he'd hoped to capture her. He slowly and carefully sunk himself in her, trying to control himself. She groaned, whimpered slightly and pressed up just a little with her back, he kept it slow and steady for a little while, using dabs of oil to refresh. If there was something she was surprised at, it had been the need to use that jar of hippy dippy coconut oil in the pantry as a lubricant. She hadn't realised that it was needed because she'd never thought about it before. Turned out that she needed a fair amount of it and that oil stains never came out of cushions. They'd had to bag them up for the charity shop and Marcus had devised some cock and bull story about mould ruining them. One of the things they'd laughed about the most. After the wedding it was lubricant from a bottle, from a seedy sex shop. They'd learned the lesson with the oil. She thought everyone used it, not knowing until her marriage was nearly over and they never did it anymore and she'd met the first of her sapphic dalliances who had made sure that she'd not needed it for the first time in her life. She hadn't known she was capable of that.

Her head was blank of thoughts, she closed her eyes and saw colours shifting in her mind. The only thing she thought was near the end. Was that it? It was alright. Somewhat pleasant if she shifted a particular way and she was getting the hang of the motion. But nothing that lit her on fire.

He wasn't quite sure what to make of her. No matter how hard he took her, she was quieter than anyone he'd had. A groaning sigh or a brief moan, a few staccato stutters, a decent amount of panting. It was a steady trickle of noise but still he couldn't capture her the way he wanted to, no matter how gracefully she'd matched her hips to his. He finished with a series of loud grunts and relaxed. He took himself out of her and wrapped up the condom, disposing it in the spare plastic bag, leaning in for a kiss. She slid her hands up his arms and he'd felt the warmth of her body inflame him. She'd sat up and carried on kissing him, feeling an unfamiliar flutter in her belly. She'd come to learn that over the years, it signified the start of yearning and desire but until said sapphic dalliance, was doomed to go nowhere as she'd never in all of her adult years until the age of 50, been able to orgasm with another person. A detail that had pissed Marcus off to no end.

But at that point in time, he only had space in his head for the next shock she'd given him. A few drops of blood on the cushion under her hips. Again, Bernie looked at him, not knowing what he'd been so horrified about.

'Bernie, you didn't tell me!'

'What?'

She looked down, saw the blood. She hadn't even felt it.

'Why didn't you say you're a virgin?'

'Well, I'm not anymore' she said in that measured but mocking tone he had always thought was such a tease. She didn't understand why he looked at her so strangely. In his experience, girls had always made a fuss of their virginity, either to hold onto it tightly for the wedding bed or to throw it recklessly out of the window with any Tom, Dick or Harry. That she hadn't thought to mention it was just odd.

'You could have told me. Did I hurt you?'

'Not really. It's not relevant anymore, is it?'

'You could have bloody well told me and I would have been more gentle with you.'

'It was fine.' She'd groaned through the initial slow stretch, that was quite a sensation. It had ached at times but it hadn't really hurt. She had never cared about her virginity, it wasn't something she'd thought so much about, she had trusted him with her body and she didn't feel any different after the act.

'I'm the same person, I can't say I've changed in the last half an hour' she reassured him. He still looked confused. 'You're not like other girls, Bernie' he'd said. She knew that but was there a need to make a big deal out of it?

'I don't compare myself to other girls, why would it matter to me?'

She hadn't, that was true. But she had changed, that much was certain. She hadn't been that girl for a long time. Only certain people could extract that softness Marcus had wanted from her. He wasn't one of them. Now that she had experience of carnal desire, decades after everyone else, she was finally her own woman.

Serena distracted her from her thoughts by climbing into bed, nicely naked.

'Penny for them?'

Bernie snuggled into her with a dismissal.

'Nothing important. I was thinking pizza for dinner.'

'Already? You ravenous beast. The pineapple plots will be struggling to keep up with your bizarre topping demands.'

'Pineapples grow in plots?'

'Yes, like on an allotment.'

'Maybe we could grow them in ours' mused Bernie. Silence. She turned to look at Serena's grin.

'Don't they grow in plots?'

Serena laughed.

'You silly goose, they grow on trees and we are not even attempting to grow a pineapple tree in our allotment.'

Tricked again. Serena liked to do that to her sometimes. Bernie grabbed a pillow and thumped her with it.

'We could give it a try' she mumbled.

'Oh Bernie. You're like no other, that's for sure.'

This time Bernie took it as a compliment.