by Kiki Archer
Zara rolled her eyes. “Say what?”
“I love you.”
“SHUT THE BLOODY FUCK UP!” Zara threw the hand back to its owner and clambered into the front of the car. “Don’t be so BLOODY FUCKING RIDICULOUS! Honestly, I’ve heard it all now!”
Melody quickly followed her into the passenger’s seat. “I do, you know I do. We’ve been meeting more regularly and you’ve been chatting more at work.”
“Stop right there!” Zara turned to Melody with narrow eyes. “Have we ever spent the night together?”
Melody shrugged. “No.”
“Have we ever gone on a date?”
Melody bit her bottom lip. “I guess not.”
Zara banged her fist on the leather steering wheel. “Have I ever said anything, and I mean ANYTHING, at all about my feelings for you?”
Melody shook her head. “No, but I saw it in your eyes.”
“Saw what?” Zara continued to shake her head in disbelief. “Have I ever bought you a gift? Have I ever phoned you for a chat? Have I ever written you a lovey dovey message? Have I ever taken an interest in your life outside of work? Have I ever tried to hold your hand? Have I ever cooked for you? Have I ever held you or even just hugged you?” She paused and stared Melody straight in the eye. “For fuck’s sake Melody, it’s just sex.”
Melody maintained the stare. “But you slag off your wife, Zara.”
“Everyone slags off their wife when they’re shagging around.” She shook her head. “I love Andi. This is just sex.”
Melody took a deep breath. “I don’t believe you. I saw you watching me in the meeting this-”
Zara’s ringtone interrupted Melody’s protest. “I’m taking this. Be quiet.” Zara lifted the mobile and tapped the green button. Speaking to anyone would be better than listening to this nonsense. “Hello … Oh, Andi ... Yes ... Sorry, sweetie ... I’m on my way ... Which vote? ... Oh, yes ... They’ve voted against? ... Is that good or bad?” Zara glanced at Melody who had taken her own mobile out of her vest pocket and switched it into life. Zara shook her head and mouthed the words, ‘turn it off.’
Melody ignored the demand.
Zara twisted her body to the right and looked out of her own window at the top level of the empty car park, continuing her own conversation. “You’ll have to explain this vote thing to me again ... I know I should know ... Yes, I know it’s important ... Yes, I’m on my way sweetie ... Yes, yes I-”
A sexy, Santa Baby, ringtone suddenly blasted out from Melody’s mobile phone.
Zara frantically waved her left hand in Melody’s direction and pressed her own phone further into her ear, trying to silence the noise.
Melody let it ring.
Zara kept waving, but increased her own volume. “Yes, it’s someone outside ... Their phone’s got some crappy Christmas tune ... Yes, I know it’s only November ... My window’s open ... No, I’m not cold ... Look, I’ll see you in a bit.” She hung up quickly, throwing the phone back onto the dashboard and glaring at Melody. “You idiot.”
Melody shrugged and silenced the sexy singing. “It’s my voicemail. It rings when I’ve got a message.”
“You could have turned it off!”
“Oops.”
Zara dismissed Melody with her fingers. “Right, your fun and games are over. Out you get.”
Melody looked down at her ripped fishnet tights and fake police vest that was now torn at the shoulder. “I can’t get out like this! I’m down on level two. I got the lift up to make it look more authentic.”
“I’ve seen women at hen parties that make more authentic police officer’s than you do.” Zara reached for her trousers. “Fine, I’ll drive you. I need to pay for my ticket anyway.”
****
Andi hung up the phone and placed it back on the coffee table. “Sometimes I wonder if I’m actually married to a man!”
Pippa laughed. “Why?”
“She hasn’t got the foggiest idea about the vote today, even though I spent all morning talking about it.” Andi shrugged, “And she’s certainly not a lesbian aware of current issues.”
“How can Andi Armstrong’s wife not be aware of lesbian issues?”
“Exactly!” laughed Andi reaching for her mug of tea.
Pippa paused for a moment. “That’s the first time in nine months that I’ve ever heard you say anything negative about your wife.”
Andi swallowed the hot tea quickly. “Was that negative? Oh no, I didn’t mean to be negative, I just meant she can be a bit forgetful at times.” Andi laughed. “Oh no, that’s negative too! I don’t mean that-”
“I’m teasing. It’s nice to think that the golden couple have their moments just like the rest of us. Not that I’m actually an us, still just a me.”
Andi raised her eyebrows. “Oh, we certainly have our moments.”
“Really?” Pippa was intrigued.
Andi reached onto the coffee table for her laptop. “Come on, let’s write this article and get it out to the Pink Press before Zara gets back. If she reads it and understands it then it’s a good piece.”
Pippa nudged Andi’s arm. “Ooo, that’s another dig!”
“No, no, I didn’t mean it like that! I meant we need to carefully explain how this vote will affect our campaign for equal marriage.”
Pippa smiled, displaying her dimple in its full glory.
“You were teasing, right?”
“Right,” grinned Pippa, taking the laptop from her boss’s lap and starting to type.
****
Zara zipped her trousers back up and slung her seatbelt over her shoulder. She twisted the key in the ignition and revved the engine, flooring the accelerator and speeding across the concrete car park. She stared straight ahead and turned the steering wheel with force, screeching the tyres down the first of many exit ramps.
Zara didn’t notice the person hiding in the shadows of the stairwell.
But Melody did.
Chapter Ten
Andi returned from her home office and proudly placed the print outs on the coffee table in the lounge. They had worked on the article for over an hour, with Andi dictating and Pippa typing. Pippa had also chosen to add her own variation on words or phrases, most of which Andi eventually sanctioned. In fact, Andi did admit that her PA always seemed to give their articles an added edge with her well thought out turn of phrase and thought provoking analogies. Both women picked up a copy of the article and settled back onto the sofa, giving it a final read through before its upload to the Proud Unity website, aware that it would be seized, almost immediately, by all major LGBT news sites, and quoted for further articles, some of which would undoubtedly make the national press.
Andi was the first one to finish the proof read and nod her head in satisfaction. She placed the article back on the table. “We’re a good team you and I!”
Pippa trailed her finger across the final line, bobbing her mass of curly brown hair in agreement. “It’s a cracker! A controversial cracker.”
Andi frowned. “It’s not too controversial though, is it?”
“Anything that dares to criticise the Church of England will be seen as controversial. But it’s great. It needs to be said.”
“Agreed. Let’s upload.” Andi pulled the laptop back onto her knee and logged into the Proud Unity admin page. She dragged the article from her saved documents file and dropped it into the upload box, clicking the link and watching the blue bar race across the screen. “And it’s up!” She copied the link from the address bar and opened up her Twitter and Facebook accounts, quickly writing the title: ‘Has the Church of England just consigned itself to extinction?’ Andi pasted the link to their article and hit the tweet button. “I know I say it all the time, but social media is such a revolution.” She repeated the process on Facebook and clicked the post button. “Now watch this.” She opened a third tab and signed into her Google analytics site. “Twenty three hits, twenty four, twenty five-”
Pippa leaned closer into th
e laptop. “On the article, already?”
“Yes look. It shows how many hits the article gets, how long the reader stays on the Proud Unity website for and whereabouts in the world the person is accessing the site from.”
“Forty four hits! In less than a minute!” Pippa tapped the other tabs on the screen. “Look, twelve interactions on Twitter and fifteen notifications on Facebook.”
Andi switched to the Twitter feed. “It’s a hot topic. Look the hashtag #CofE is trending.” She clicked on the link, scanning the most recent tweets. “And it looks like most people share our viewpoint.”
Pippa took Andi’s hand and squeezed it lightly. “That’s because we’re right. You’re right. Proud Unity’s right. You’re a courageous lady, Andi Armstrong, and I’m in total awe!”
“Cosy,” said Zara, with her hand on her hip in the doorway.
“Hey, darling, I didn’t hear you come in.” Andi moved her hand and beckoned her wife to sit down next to them. “Come and take a look at our article.”
“Sweetie, I’ve just had the drive from hell. People are parked in the street without permits, and I’ve had to leave the Range Rover miles away.”
Andi looked at her wife’s crumpled linen trousers. “Come and sit down, I’ll make you a cup of tea.”
“Make it a G and T please, sweetie,” said Zara, entering the room and collapsing onto her large brown recliner.
Andi got up from her seated position and walked over to her wife, bending down to kiss her on the cheek. “Of course.” She looked back at Pippa. “Shall we have a cheeky Pimms, to celebrate?”
“I didn’t think anyone actually drank Pimms!” laughed Pippa.
Zara lifted her nose at Andi. “Exactly. Get the girl a G and T like me. No one wants to be offered Pimms.”
“I rather like it,” said Andi, reaching up on tiptoes to pull open their slightly stubborn spirit cabinet door. “It’s Pimms o’clock.”
Zara straightened her long black hair. “No one likes that advert.”
“I do,” smiled Andi reaching for the almost empty, green bottle of gin.
Zara pressed the recliner button on the arm of her chair, closing her eyes as her body was shifted into a horizontal position. “And what exactly is it that you’re celebrating?” She opened one eye and looked from Pippa to Andi. “The fact that PA Pippa’s still putting up with you?”
Andi poured a tiny amount of tonic into the tumbler of gin and took the drink over to her wife, picking up a print out of the article on the way. “Very funny. No, we’re celebrating this.” She handed both items over to her wife and was thanked with an immediate tut.
“Buzz me back up then. I can’t drink and read lying down like this.”
Andi pressed the button on the arm of the recliner, sending her wife slowly back into the seated position. She turned to Pippa, clapping her hands together. “So, what will it be?”
Pippa smiled kindly. “I think I’ll join you in a Pimms.”
Zara snorted. “So you’re a suck up too!”
“Oh Zara, stop it.” Andi paused as she walked past Pippa, squeezing her gently on the shoulder. “Pippa’s not used to your sense of humour yet.”
“I wasn’t joking,” whispered Zara, taking a slug of gin.
Andi gave Pippa a reassuring smile. “Yes she was, and the way Stella handled it was to give as good as she got.”
Pippa nodded in thought. “I’ll remember that.”
Zara peered over the rim of her tumbler. “Stella also wore shorter skirts than you, and lower tops.” She winked. “That always helped my mood.”
“Behave,” shouted Andi, making the final preparations to the two tall glasses of Pimms which chinked together as she lifted them from the cabinet. Andi carried them carefully back to the sofas and passed one to Pippa. She sat back in her own seat and took a tentative sip, enjoying the minty fruit taste. She glanced at her wife. “So, come on. What do you think?” She lifted her glass to Pippa and winked in a silent toast. “You can always be sure you’ll get an honest critique from my wife.”
“You don’t say,” mouthed Pippa, aware that Zara’s eyes were transfixed on the article.
Zara let out an elongated sigh, as if chastising a young child. “The title alone will bring you a whole heap of shit, sweetie.”
Andi swallowed quickly. “What do you mean?”
“Has the Church of England consigned itself to extinction? It’s as if you’re asking a rhetorical question. You’re saying the Church of England’s about to become extinct.”
Andi shook her head. “No, if you read on, the article examines how their vote today affects their long term future.”
Zara shrugged. “Suggesting the Church won’t have a future will bring many more bigots out of the woodwork and you’ll be lucky if it’s only a box of offal they send.”
Andi placed her drink back down on the coffee table. “Zara, today the Church of England voted against allowing female bishops. They’ve shown themselves to be so far removed from twenty first century Britain that it’s beyond a joke. Their opposition to equal marriage will now be called into question because they’ve lost credibility.”
“I can read.”
“I mean, who’ll listen to an institution that doesn’t believe females are capable, or worthy, of becoming bishops. It’s a joke. It really is.”
Zara rolled her eyes. “Calm down.”
“No, I won’t calm down. Today’s monumental. Today will go down as a day in history that saw the main opponents to equal marriage wounded beyond repair. They’ve shown themselves to be totally and utterly archaic.”
“Oh no, I can feel a speech coming on.” Zara pointed in the direction of the CD player. “Pippa, go and put the National Anthem on.”
Pippa held Zara’s eyes. “Actually I agree with Andi. The Church of England, by disallowing female bishops, has shown its complete lack of relevance to the modern world. Any objection they have to equal marriage will now be taken with a pinch of salt. They don’t even rate females, so of course they won’t like equal marriage. They’ll no longer be taken seriously.”
Zara tutted. “I can see why you two get on so well.” She leaned forwards and thrust the article back towards the coffee table, watching it floating forwards and backwards before landing with a skid. “You’ll get some shit from it.”
Pippa turned to Andi. “Good. That’s why I wanted this job in the first place. To have the privilege of working with someone who’s not afraid of shit.”
“To shit,” smiled Andi, raising her glass and chinking it naughtily against Pippa’s.
“Oh grow up, girls,” sighed Zara pressing the recliner button on her chair and returning to her horizontal state.
“Never,” mouthed Pippa to Andi, with a cheeky wink.
Chapter Eleven
Pippa emerged from the Baker Street Tube Station to a crowd of tourists queuing around the curved green dome of Madame Tussauds. She checked her watch. It was almost eight pm, well past the final admission time. Possibly the unveiling of a new waxwork, or a celebrity appearance, she decided, crossing the busy road and heading towards the dark green Starbucks on the corner of Porter Street. Pippa took a deep breath and swung open the door, greeted by a familiar warmth and new enticing cinnamon smell. It was only November but the coffee shop had already started to promote their seasonal favourites range. She didn’t bother to scan the seating area, confident that Jayney would be late. Instead she walked straight to the front counter and weighed up the options. A tall Americano would sober her up and help ensure she didn’t do, or say, anything irrational; but the Christmas Toffee Nut Latte, described as a rich buttery flavour of sweet toffee, combined with the warmth of toasted nuts, was screaming out at her from the overcrowded chalk board.
Opting for the inappropriate choice, Pippa clutched her tall red mug of frothy whipped cream and navigated through the clusters of tables and chairs to a tall bench seat by the window. She deliberately avoided one of the cosy, more private booths, op
ting for a spot in full view of the other customers, where she would have to remain calm and level headed. She placed the fragrant mug of nutty cream onto the table top and pulled herself up onto the tall stool, suddenly aware of just how squiffy she was. Andi had poured them both a further three Pimms which they had consumed, amongst quiet giggles, as Zara actually slept on the brown leather recliner. Pippa was about to ponder the dynamics of her boss’s marriage when she felt an apprehensive tap on the shoulder.
“Pippa, hi. How are you?” The voice was timid. “Thanks for meeting me.”
Pippa turned to see the redhead stood behind her. “Oh Jayney, lose that silly voice.”
The voice disappeared. “You’re still pissed? Ten months on and you’re still pissed?”
“Of course I’m still pissed. I’ll always be pissed.” She looked into the defiant eyes. “But you said it was really, really important. In fact, your message concerned me so much that I left what was a very pleasant evening with a very pleasant woman.”
“So you’ve got someone new then?”
“Maybe,” replied Pippa with a nonchalant shrug of the shoulder.
Jayney shifted her weight from side to side. “Oh, right. Well I still want to talk to you. What did you think of the vote today?”
Pippa frowned. “You haven’t called me here to talk about a vote! Get yourself a drink, sit down and tell me what you really want.” She used her forefinger to scoop a heap of nut sprinkled cream, into her mouth. “This latte’s lovely.”
“Fine, but can we sit somewhere more private?”
Pippa shook her mass of brown curls. “This is fine.”
“No, I’ll get a coffee and meet you in that booth at the back.”
Pippa watched as her gorgeous ex-girlfriend strolled to the front counter, cursing her own inability to hold her ground as she slid from the tall chair and dutifully carried her mug to the booth at the back. She settled into the much comfier seat and couldn’t help but admire Jayney’s slender figure and pert behind, suddenly overcome by a vision of remembrance, made worse by the hungry pang of a ten month celibacy. Jayney turned around, so Pippa dropped her gaze, missing the exaggerated hip swing that was making its way back to the booth.
