by Kiki Archer
Pippa had found the whole incident hilarious, if somewhat painful. The instructor had lifted her into the trailer and insisted they go straight back to the hut for RICE. Andi had tried to joke that it wasn’t time for eating, whereupon the ever-so efficient instructor versed them both on the policy of Rest, Ice, Compression and Elevation. Andi and Pippa had shared a secret smile, fully aware from their recent first aid course that RICE was indeed something other than a food group.
Once in the hut, the treatment had been quick and simple. Pippa had lifted her left trouser leg and exposed a Segway tyre imprint and a slightly swollen ankle. The instructor had efficiently assessed the injury as non-life threatening and twenty minutes later the journey back to Molly had begun. Andi was under Pippa’s shoulder and Pippa was perfecting her hobble.
“It’s not that bad!” laughed Andi.
“You ran me over! You actually ran me over with your Segway!”
“You were already on the floor. I was trying to speed up and rescue you!”
“But you didn’t though, did you?” Pippa was struggling to control her giggles. “You put your foot down and jumped me like a mogul. I bet you were seeing how much air you could get!”
Andi laughed. “I’m so sorry. I feel dreadful. You can actually see the tyre mark on your leg.”
“I know! You’re going to have to drive.”
“Stop it. It’s bad enough that you’ve cried off from ‘Go Ape,’ but don’t tease me with driving that beast.”
“Shhh, she’ll hear you,” giggled Pippa as they made it to the car park. “Seriously the clutch is so stiff and you have to press down really hard every time you want to change gear. I’m struggling to bend my ankle.”
“Really?”
“Really,” nodded Pippa in earnest. “I’m also going to sit in the boot so I can keep my foot up.”
“Stop it,” laughed Andi again. “I’m not driving that old wagon with you in the back like Lady Muck.”
Pippa hopped to a standstill. “I’m being serious. You have to drive. You’re fully comp, aren’t you?”
“Yes, but I’ve never driven anything like that before.” Andi nodded towards the old Morris Minor Traveller. “Do I have to wind her up to get her going?”
“Don’t you always?” said Pippa with a grin.
“Stop it. I’m going to have to concentrate. Where are the keys?”
“We’re not even there yet,” laughed Pippa, “and she’s not got electric locking!”
Andi bent back under Pippa’s shoulder and helped her hobble. “You owe me for this.”
“You ran me over!”
“You were showing off and you fell off!”
“Maybe,” laughed Pippa, still devastated that she had been the one to take a tumble. “It’s fine. We’ll go back to mine and warm up with a hot chocolate.” She smiled. “Plus it means we can rearrange the ‘Go Ape’ for another weekend.”
“Sounds good to me,” said Andi coming to a standstill next to the wooden framed car. “But remember that’s all assuming we make it home alive.”
“Gee-Gee wouldn’t have it any other way.”
“I bloody well hope so,” laughed Andi, surveying the old fashioned motor vehicle and taking a very deep breath. “The Segways have a higher horse power than this thing.”
“Shhh, she’ll hear you!”
“Oops, sorry Molly.”
“No,” Pippa pointed up at the sky. “I’m talking about Gee-Gee.”
Andi turned around and felt Pippa’s forehead. “Oh blimey, now we’ve got to add concussion into the mix!”
Pippa couldn’t help but laugh. “I love it when you panic.”
Andi took the keys out of Pippa’s bag and fumbled with the old fashioned door handle. “I’ll remind you of that when we’re on the A406 with an articulated lorry up our backside.”
****
The short journey home had in fact been incident free, and even though Andi wouldn’t admit it, she had quite enjoyed playing the role of driving Miss Daisy. Pippa had insisted on a seat in the boot, stretching her leg out and balancing her foot on the front passenger’s headrest, wailing with painful giggles each time the old car hit a bump.
Andi had mocked her cries, but now, as she was sitting on Pippa’s sofa with Pippa’s tyre marked leg and swollen ankle on her knee, she felt dreadful. “It’s really bad, isn’t it?” she said. “I’m so, so, sorry.”
Pippa adjusted her head on the cushion and shrugged from a horizontal position. “It’s fine, I shouldn’t have been wiggling around on a moving vehicle trying to get you to look at my tits.”
“You only had to ask,” laughed Andi, “and you didn’t have to go to such extremes to get my attention.”
Pippa looked serious for a moment. “Don’t I?”
“No.” She grinned. “I’m always looking at your tits.”
Pippa pressed her head further into the cushion. “Oh how you’ve changed from the prim and proper Andi Armstrong on interview who looked aghast when I recited from memory an exact description of your physical attributes and choice of clothing.”
Andi laughed. “It did kind of freak me out.”
“Hey, I just make sure I pay attention to what’s important.”
Andi lowered her voice. “And what’s important right now?”
Pippa lifted herself onto an elbow. “Telling you that today’s been great. That I’ve loved every minute of it.”
“Me too,” whispered Andi, leaning her head back onto the sofa and closing her eyes. “I feel so alive when I’m with you.” She paused. “Does that sound corny?”
“It’s a good job you’ve got your eyes closed and you can’t see the face I’m pulling.”
Andi opened her eyes.
“I’m joking,” smiled Pippa. “No, that’s not corny. I just wanted to have your attention when I said this.”
“Said what?”
Pippa pulled herself up into a seated position, stopping inches away from Andi’s face. She took a deep breath and whispered quietly. “You’re my one.”
Andi couldn’t draw her eyes from Pippa’s. “What do you mean?”
“You’re the one I was meant to find, and now that I’ve found you, I have to tell you.” She said it again, only this time, louder. “You’re my one, Andi.”
Andi gently shook her head. “I’m someone else’s.”
“All I know is what I feel, and all I feel here,” she touched her own chest, “is you.”
Andi held her breath and closed her eyes. “Why does my heart beat faster when I’m with you?”
Pippa waited for Andi’s eyes to re-open. “Because you know I’m yours too.”
“My one?”
Pippa nodded. “I’m your one, too…” she smiled “…so stop counting and kiss me.”
Andi laughed lightly and leaned forwards; drawn in by the warming spiel. “I want to, I just-”
“Do it.” The connection was intense and their lips were just millimetres apart. “Kiss me.”
Andi couldn’t stop herself, the pull was too strong. She moved her head forwards and parted her lips, pressing them gently against Pippa’s.
“I love you,” breathed Pippa, engulfed by the soft emotion of the embrace.
Andi froze.
Pippa continued the kiss, but Andi didn’t respond. “Andi?”
Andi stuttered. “You love me?”
“I’ve known it for a while,” nodded Pippa. “I’m sorry, but I love you.”
Andi reached for Pippa’s head and held it gently in her hands. She looked into her eyes and kissed her slowly, for one final time.
Pippa gasped with arousal and increased the pressure, pushing Andi backwards and grabbing at her body.
Andi lifted a finger to Pippa’s mouth. “Stop,” she whispered, staying in control. “This has to stop. I can’t let you love me.”
“It’s too late,” murmured Pippa pushing back onto the kiss.
Andi turned her head to the side. “I can’t lead you on
. I’m married and I have a job to do.”
“What about you? What do you want?”
“I want same-sex couples to get the same rights as everyone else. I want equal marriage. Crikey, I’m fighting for equal marriage.” She shook her head. “I can’t just walk away from my own civil partnership, Pippa. What sort of example would that set?”
“What about love?
“I love my job.”
“But you don’t love me?”
Andi closed her eyes. “Don’t ask me that question.”
“You could change departments and focus on the education side of things. You could work with the schools. You could-”
Andi opened her eyes and spoke slowly. “I could honour my commitment.” She paused. “I know what I want, Pippa. I want to get this job done. I want us all to be equal. I want equal marriage rights for everyone.”
Pippa shook her head. “I know what I want … I want you.”
“You can’t have me, Pippa! I’m married!” Andi shocked herself with her chastising tone of voice. She shook her head and whispered quietly. “I’m married.”
“I’ll wait.”
Andi took Pippa’s hands. “For what? Nothing’s going to change. I’m bound by the commitment I made seven years ago.”
Pippa said it again. “I’ll wait.”
Chapter Twenty Eight
It had taken a huge amount of will power to walk out of the door and head back home; but that’s what Andi had done. She had walked away from Pippa and made a vow, never to be in that situation again. Now, moments away from her own home - the home she shared with her wife of seven years - she gulped, finally aware of the enormity of the situation. She was on the brink of an affair. She was on the brink of destroying it all; her love, her commitment, and her life as she knew it. She spoke to herself once again. You’re fine. You’ve stopped it. There’s no harm done. She walked up the short path and stopped in front of the large front door. You’re putting the greater good before yourself, it’s admirable.
She shook her head. You left her on her own with an injured ankle. She loves you! She actually loves you. Andi snapped herself free from the daydream and focused on the Yale lock. Keep calm and stay in control, she whispered, lifting her key to the door and twisting it quickly, feeling the warmth of her home drawing her in.
Andi stepped into the large hallway and immediately grabbed the door frame, unable to stop her foot from skidding on a large discarded envelope. She hovered for a moment in a state of unbalance, looking down at the floor and the pile of post, cursing the postman, though fully aware that he wasn’t at fault. Zara had clearly not been home. Andi regained her composure and bent down. She lifted the pile of leaflets and letters, and closed the door, flopping forcefully onto the velvety chaise longue.
Andi lay still for a moment and looked at the ceiling, before sighing and straightened the pile of post on her chest. I’m a cheat, she said to herself. I’m nothing but a cheat. She shook her head, feeling her fingers drawn to the oversized envelope. She lifted it up and read the name on the front. F.A.O: ANDI ARMSTRONG. That was it. Just her name. No address. No stamp. Just her name. She puzzled for a moment and sat up, shuffling backwards so she was resting, legs outstretched, in a seated position against the end of the long lounger. She dropped the rest of the post to the floor and pushed her finger under the lip of the envelope. She ripped it open and pulled out a large brown file. FOR ANDI, it said on the front.
Andi swung her legs off the chaise longue and rested her elbows on her knees. She opened the file and stared at the list of statements:
-Affair with Zara started Jan 5th 2012 - Sex in her office 3.15 p.m.
-Jan 6th - Sex after work in her car 6.00 p.m.
-Jan 10th - Sex in the lobby 7.30 a.m.
Andi scanned page, after page, after page, of non-descript meetings for sex. She stopped at the entry for Nov 3rd.
-Nov 3rd Met Jayney to discuss HER affair with Zara! October 2011 - September 2012. OVERLAP!!
Andi couldn’t move. What the hell was she reading? She flicked to the final page.
-A record of my affair, by Melody Fickler.
Andi felt a surge of fear rising inside her. The file had started to shake and she looked down at her hands that were white at the knuckles. She closed it back over and stared at the cover, unable to comprehend exactly what it was that she was holding.
The front door swung open and Zara stepped noisily into the hall, spotting Andi and starting to rant. “You could have opened it! Didn’t you hear me messing with the lock?! My new key’s still too bloody stiff!”
Andi didn’t move.
“Didn’t you hear me?” said Zara, pulling her coat off and walking to the stand. “I should have gone to the proper key place and not the bloody supermarket! I’m sure you told me to go there. Who gets their keys cut at a bloody supermarket anyway?”
Andi dropped the brown file onto the chaise longue and walked silently into the lounge.
“Sweetie?” puzzled Zara.
“FOR FUCK’S SAKE! I’M NOT YOUR FUCKING SWEETIE!” came the screaming reply.
****
Andi waited alone in the lounge for what felt like a lifetime. She was sitting and waiting, but for what, she wasn’t quite sure. All she knew was that she felt cold. Cold, numb, but surprisingly calm. She turned slowly, hearing the door creak open.
Zara was standing motionless in the doorway with the file clutched close to her chest. “Can I come in?”
Andi shrugged. “It looks like you do whatever you want anyway, so why are you bothering to ask?”
“Aren’t you going to shout?”
“No. You’re not worth it.”
Zara walked into the room and stood in front of Andi, intent on proving her wrong. “So you believe it then? Without question?”
“You want me to ask you?” said Andi, barely able to look at her wife. “You want me to ask you if it’s true?”
Zara nodded.
“Fine. Is it true?”
Zara smirked. “She’s missed a couple of entries actually.”
“WHAT?!” shouted Andi, absolutely raging inside.
“I thought you weren’t going to shout?” grinned Zara, mission accomplished. “I thought you weren’t bothered?”
“JUST FUCK OFF, ZARA! JUST FUCK RIGHT OFF!”
“No. Look at you, losing your cool! The wonderful Andi Armstrong lets rip! I knew you’d shout!”
Andi jumped up and eyeballed her wife, fuming with her nonchalance and cross at her own eruption. “You’ve got five seconds to leave this house, or I will.”
Zara pushed Andi by the shoulders back down onto the sofa. “Look at you, Miss high and mighty! Don’t pretend you didn’t know.”
Andi hauled herself back up. “OF COURSE I DIDN’T FUCKING KNOW! YOU’RE MY FUCKING WIFE, ZARA!” She shook her head, holding back the tears. “My wife,” she uttered.
Zara dropped the file onto the coffee table and walked over to her recliner. She sat down and folded her arms. “What am I meant to say? I’ve been busted. I’ve had affairs. Sorry, I thought you knew.”
“How many?” shouted Andi, angry at her own emotion and cross with Zara for taking great relish in her outburst.
“Four or five.”
“BUT WE’RE FUCKING MARRIED! WHAT BIT OF THAT DON’T YOU GET?!”
“Oh Andi, listen to yourself. It was only sex and it only started a couple of years ago when things really started to take off with Proud Unity.”
“So it’s my fault?” she gasped.
Zara shrugged. “Partly. I thought you were turning a blind eye?”
Andi lowered herself back down onto the sofa and held her head in her hands. “Why? Why would I do that? I loved you, Zara.”
“What do you mean, loved?” Zara was mocking her. “You’ve stopped loving me in the space that it’s taken you to read that file?”
Andi paused, shocked at her own admission. “Why would I know? Why would I condone your dirty little affairs?
”
Zara huffed. “If you didn’t know, then you’re even more absorbed in yourself and your stupid little job than I thought.” She laughed. “Now that really is saying something.”
“YOU’RE THE ONE WHO’S HAD THE FUCKING AFFAIRS!” shouted Andi, struggling to keep a lid on her fury. All she wanted to do was see clearly. “This isn’t my fault! Fine! While you’re being so open, who were they?”
“Women from work.”
Andi rubbed her fingers though her short blonde hair. “And Jayney? You know who she was, right?”
Zara pressed the recliner button on her chair, lifting her feet into the horizontal position. “She was just some temp who got above her station.”
“OH MY GOD, ZARA! You were fucking her! No wonder she felt above her station. Fucked by the boss of a FTSE 100 company.” Andi swept her hair backwards. “She was Pippa’s girlfriend. She left Pippa for you!”
Zara tutted. “No she didn’t! It was just sex. No emotion. No dates. No chats. No feelings. Just sex … and she was pretty crap actually.” Zara paused. “Jayney was delusional.” She turned and looked at Andi. “I would never leave you, sweetie.”
“You’d never leave me?” uttered Andi, completely flabbergasted.
“No.”
“And what if I walked out of that FUCKING DOOR right now?”
“Listen to yourself! Why are you screaming?”
Andi took a deep breath, willing herself to stay calm. “Did you talk about us? When you were fucking them? Did you tell them what a shit wife I was?”
Zara looked shocked. “To them? No, of course not.” She frowned at Andi. “Why would I? It was just meaningless sex. You’re my wife. You’re the one I come home to every night. You’re the one I love. You’re the one I’ll be with forever.”
