by Clare Lydon
“And you’re doing it brilliantly,” I replied.
“I am, but I prefer doing it with you.”
She would prefer doing it with me. Holy shit. I tried to stop my mind going there, but I knew I was fighting a losing battle.
She had no idea how much I’d prefer to do so many things with her, too. I so wanted this to be more, us to be more. Now I’d acknowledged it, it was all I could think of. As my mind threw me an image of Rachel in not very much, I concentrated on being an adult.
I could do this. Although when I looked up and caught the long stretch of skin on show, starting just above the swell of Rachel’s breast and sweeping all the way up her neck, I wasn’t so sure. I wanted to reach out, touch it, taste it.
“How’ve you been, anyway? I thought you were staying with Tanya, but then Sophie told me you’d left to go to your parents’.”
I blinked, forcing myself to concentrate, swallowing down the real reason on the tip of my tongue.
I tapped my fingertips on the bar as the waiter brought our glasses of Chilean Sauvignon Blanc.
“I was staying with Tanya, but I didn’t want to play gooseberry to her and Sophie, even though she promised I wouldn’t be. You know how it is.”
Rachel gave me a smile, swallowing the lie whole. “I get that.” She paused. “They tend to spend most of their time upstairs since I caught them naked on the sofa in our flat when they first started going out.”
I let out a screech of laughter. “That’s not an image you can scrub out of your mind quickly.”
Rachel grinned. “It’s not. But back to you. How are you after the break-up?”
Emboldened.
Scared.
Nervous as hell around you.
“I’m coping. It wasn’t an easy decision, but it was the right one. I mean, I wasn’t in love with Jake anymore, so it wasn’t really fair on him to carry on.” I paused. “How’s he doing?”
Rachel nodded. “He’s doing okay, but I can tell he’s hurting. He doesn’t want to talk to me because he knows we’re friends. But I’ve told him I’m his friend, too. Maybe he will eventually.” She eyed me with care. “I never saw it coming, I have to say. I thought you two were solid.”
I gulped as her gaze caressed me, undressing me with every beat. “We were for a time.”
Until I met you.
My legs were trembling, and crossing them proved an effort, my muscle tone deserting me.
I had to front up before I dissolved and fell off this stool in a heap.
“Actually, I’ve got something to tell you.” Deep breath, deep breath.
Rachel smiled, sitting forward. “I’ve got something to tell you, too, although now might not be the best time, not when relationships are probably the last thing on your mind.”
Relationships? What was she talking about? Was it possible she was thinking the same thing about me, too?
“Tell me your news first.” If Rachel felt the same, I was about to find out.
I smoothed down my shorts and cleared my throat, my shoulder twitching, a shudder working its way up my body.
“Well,” she said, sipping her wine, going a little coy on me. “Did I tell you I’ve been using Tinder?”
My heart drooped as I shook my head.
Those were not the words I wanted her to say.
“No.”
A smile danced onto her face. “Well, I have. I mean, I’ve been single for ages, and I thought, what the hell? A couple of friends have had success recently, so I gave it a whirl. And meeting my sister’s girlfriend spurred me on. And guess what? I got a date.” She sat back, smiling, waiting for my response.
She’d met someone else? When I was ready to jump right into that void, to offer myself to her?
Unexpected, hot tears stung the back of my eyeballs, but I swallowed down, squeezing my eyes shut to stop any outbursts. I wasn’t going to fall apart in front of her, so instead I stared at the floor and got a grip.
My duty here, as her friend — her supposedly straight friend — was to be encouraging. I knew that. I dug deep and painted on my best smile. Even though inside, my heart was quietly snapping in two.
“That’s great,” I said, sweeping my enthusiasm into my arms and dumping it in her lap. “So who is she?” The perk in my voice was so false, but Rachel was oblivious.
“Her name’s Hannah and she works for a bank. Which is unusual — I normally go for arty types, creatives. Not that dissimilar to you.”
Okay, now I wanted to wail.
“When are you going out?”
I sounded so casual: I was anything but.
“We already did this week.”
A punch to the guts.
“Are you seeing her again?”
Rachel nodded, a smile creasing her face. A smile that was placed there by another woman, a woman who was not me.
By putting this decision off, I’d been the architect of my own downfall.
How terribly ironic.
“Yes, next Tuesday — it’s my next night off. I mean, we haven’t slept together yet, we’re both holding off on that, but it was nice to be on a date, meeting someone new. My work doesn’t really allow it — in the last 18 months, you, Jess, Lucy and Tanya are the four new people I’ve met — three taken lesbians and one straight woman. So it’s nice to meet someone there’s a possibility with, you know?”
I nodded. I did know, only my possibility had just fallen down the back of my life and it would need something special to reach down and grab it back. It seemed so unfair I’d taken this long to get to this point, and now, it’d suddenly been taken away.
But I couldn’t puncture Rachel’s bubble, because she was smiling like she’d just won the lottery. And perhaps she had, because she’d met a proper lesbian, not a perhaps-lesbian like me.
Perhaps this was better all round for Rachel and, in the end, what she deserved. Someone who knew who they were and exactly what they wanted.
“That’s really great news,” I told her. “I’m pleased for you.”
Rachel grinned. “And what was your news?”
My news.
Well, my news had kinda been blown out of the water, hadn’t it? I scrabbled to think of something and then: “I was thinking of coming back to the channel in a few weeks, if that works. I need to get back on board, once the dust has settled and I’ve spoken to Jake.”
That was so not my news.
But Rachel looked thrilled. “That’s brilliant! What a week this is turning into.”
She could say that again.
Chapter 13
The following morning my mum was perched at the breakfast bar on her iPad when I walked in. The kitchen smelled of bleach, so she’d clearly done her morning clean — she was fastidious when it came to hygiene. The black-and-white Victorian tiles under my feet gleamed, and the sides were clear, everything in its place.
“So, how did it go?” I could almost feel the anticipation leaping off her as she spoke.
“It went.” I pursed my lips as the coffee gurgled out of the machine, the warming smell hitting my nostrils. I loved the smell of coffee and it was the only thing I had to cling onto this morning. Rachel was about to start dating someone else, and I’d missed the boat.
“What does that mean?” Mum took her reading glasses from her face, leaving them dangling around her neck. “Did you tell her you like her? I think she liked you. I could tell by her eyes. They sparkled when they were on you.”
“That was probably heat from working in a kitchen.” I paused. “Turns out she doesn’t like me at all, and why would she? She thinks I’m heartbroken and if I was in the market for someone else, it would be a man. Which is the logical conclusion to jump to.”
“But you could set her straight. So to speak.”
“Not when she’d just told me she’d gone on a date with another woman called Hannah.”
“Oh.” A wince. “That wasn’t in our plan.”
“Since when has this become our plan?”
/>
“Since you’re living with us — and I thought last night would push things along.”
“It did, sort of. Now she’s off the market, so I have to forget about her and move on.”
Mum paused, eyeing me. “But you’re still a lesbian?”
I gave her a look. Why did she need to categorise at a moment like this? “I’m sad and disappointed more than anything else.”
“And Jake’s definitely off the table?”
I ground my teeth together, just like my dentist told me not to. “Yes, mother. Just because plan B is off the table, doesn’t mean I’m returning to plan A when it clearly wasn’t working in the first place.”
“Okay, no need to jump down my throat. This is new to me, too, I’m just getting my bearings.” She leaned forward, one elbow on the granite breakfast bar. “You know what my motto is?”
“Have some more wine?”
She sucked in a breath, ignoring me. “My motto is never give up. Unless she’s got a wedding ring on her finger, she’s not off the market yet. And she’s had how many dates? One?”
“Second one coming up. And she was quite upbeat about this woman. Who, by the way, has probably known she’s a lesbian for a while, so comes with far less baggage than me.”
Mum got off her stool and walked over, putting her arms around me, bathing me in a soft smile.
“Everyone comes with baggage of some sort, and this other woman might have all sorts of issues you don’t know about. And I’m sure she’s had relationships, too — most people have when they reach their 30s. But you know the one thing you have over them all? You know Rachel, you get on with her, and I’m sure if you tell her how you feel, she might surprise you. But until she knows all the facts, you can’t say she’s off the market. There endeth your mother’s wisdom lecture for the day.”
Chapter 14
I think Mum must have called Sabrina and asked her to come over, because the following week, she turned up on the doorstep at 7.30pm one evening telling me Simon was looking after Flavia and we were going out.
I’d learned very early in life never to argue with Sabrina, because it never really got you anywhere. And so, ushered out the door by our mum, Sabrina took my arm and steered me through the people-strewn pavements, like I’d never been out in London before and needed looking after.
She wasn’t far wrong on the second point.
However, when she steered us into the road with Rachel’s restaurant, I tensed up. Suddenly, the fact my parents lived a stone’s throw from where she worked wasn’t all that appealing.
My sister, clearly forewarned, tightened her grip in response, before plunging us into a bar on the next street, all garishly patterned carpets and windows frosted with old English crests. She plonked me down on a padded seat under a large window, before promptly returning with a bottle of chilled Sauvignon Blanc, the perfect accompaniment to a warm summer’s evening.
I smiled, trying to fight off the feeling of desperation that had been slumped on my shoulder all day long as I’d stared at the spare-room walls, before trying to eat and failing miserably. I remembered this feeling from failed relationships past: some people fed their misery, but I starved mine.
“I assume Mum called you,” I said, as Sabrina poured the wine, condensation running down the chilled glass and wetting her fingers.
“She sent me a text. And to tell you the truth, Flavia had been winding me up all day, so I jumped at the chance of helping my sister. Children are all well and good, but sometimes a little adult company is needed.” She raised her glass in punctuation. “Along with a little adult grape juice.”
I smiled and took a sip, grateful to have a supportive family around me. Not everyone did. Tanya, for instance, whose family were a bunch of terrible bigots.
“Thank you, anyway. There’s only so long I can stare at a wall and ponder the mess I’ve made of my life. At least if I was at work I’d have something to take my mind off it.”
“You’re the only teacher I’ve ever met to moan about the length of their holidays.” Sabrina squeezed my leg. “Come on then, bring me up to speed with the full breadth of how much you’ve fucked up your life. I need to know details. Mum said you’ve been looking at moving out, viewing some places.”
I nodded, my heart sinking. “I did. I went to view two places a bit nearer work — one house-share that was lovely but sharing—”
“—was it the term house-share that gave it away?”
I ignored her. “—and one flat the size of our parents’ balcony.” I shrugged. “It’s tough on my salary. I might have to move further out.”
“I’m sure something will come up.” She paused. “And mum said Rachel had started seeing someone else.”
“Nothing’s ever very secret in our family, is it?”
“You should know that by now,” Sabrina said. “She’s taking the whole lesbian thing very well, isn’t she?”
“It’s all thanks to Barbara,” I replied.
Sabrina scrunched her forehead. “Barbara who lives down the road, Barbara?”
I nodded. “Uh-huh. You know Maggie who she lives with? Turns out they share a bed.”
“No!” Sabrina’s face was a picture, the same one I was sure I’d made when I found out.
“Apparently. So now one of Mum’s best friends is a lady lover, she thinks she’s an oracle. She probably knows more than me, which is a little disconcerting.” I paused for added emphasis. “And apparently, the sex is amazing, according to Barbara.”
Sabrina’s face contorted. “Barbara has sex?”
“Lots of lesbian sex.”
Sabrina held up her hand. “Stop it, I feel queasy. I don’t want to think about Barbara naked.”
“Don’t be ageist.”
“I’m not, I’m being Barbara-ist.” She let out a low whistle. “You just never know, do you? But back to you — Rachel’s now off the market?”
I nodded, my stomach doing a somersault as it did every time I thought about it. “Yes, she met someone online, and their second date is tonight. So as we sit here, she’s probably putting on her lipstick and checking her hair, in preparation to get laid.”
“She might not put out till the third date,” Sabrina said.
“Is that still a thing?”
She shrugged. “No idea. I slept with Simon on the first date, I was never one for protocol. What about you?”
I laughed for the first time that day. “I vary, but never a first date. You must be the slut of the family.”
Sabrina gave me grin. “Someone has to be.” She licked her lips. “Are you planning on stepping in and trying to win her back?”
I gave her a look. “I can’t win back something that wasn’t mine in the first place, can I?”
However, when I moved my glance around the pub, my heart leapt up my windpipe and lodged in my throat.
I ducked my head, burying it in my armpit as my blood pressure marched upwards like a determined adventurer.
I had no idea what Sabrina was making of it, but if I just kept my head down and pretended Rachel hadn’t just walked into the bar looking drop-dead gorgeous and wafting an air of certainty with her, then perhaps I could convince myself it wasn’t happening.
What were the chances of us being in the same bar in the whole of London?
I held my breath, fear gristly in my mouth, but when I chanced another look up, Rachel was standing at the bar.
So far, I was incognito.
Now I just had to get my breathing working again, and avoid eye contact at all cost. As far as I could make out, she was alone, but how long would that last?
When I looked at my hands, they were shaking.
“Okay, what’s going on? Why have you just started to have some kind of panic attack in front of me?” Sabrina was staring at me wide-eyed.
I nodded my head towards Rachel, standing at the bar, her dark hair shiny under the pub lights, her black top draping her body in an alluring fashion. She had one foot casually propped o
n the chrome footrest that ran along the underside of the bar, and somehow, even that was beyond sexy. I gulped and glanced at my sister, then back at Rachel.
“She’s here,” I whispered, as casually as I could manage, which it turned out wasn’t very casual at all.
“Who?”
I cleared my throat as Rachel ordered from the bartender, a smile on her face as she did so.
Of course she had a smile on her face, she was waiting for her date. I had to get out of there.
But then I glanced at Sabrina, then at our almost full bottle of wine. She wouldn’t let me leave it, Sabrina would see that as a complete waste of money, and she’d be right.
However, she wasn’t to know my heart might stop beating at any moment, and was there a price on that? A price on me collapsing and dying in front of her this very second? Mum and Dad wouldn’t be pleased at all.
“Rachel,” I blurted out, convinced that Rachel would hear.
She didn’t.
Sabrina followed my gaze, before turning back to me, her mouth hanging open. “Oh shit, so she is,” she whispered.
I glanced up again, then put my head down and moved the wine bucket in front of me, nodding as I crouched in front of it. I knew I looked ridiculous, but I didn’t care.
This situation was ridiculous, and I wanted to try to stop it escalating.
Sabrina joined me behind the bucket now, clearly thinking she needed to hide, too. “Is she here on her date?”
We used to play hide and seek a lot when we were little, but never had the consequences been so high.
I bit my lip and nodded. “I think so.”
She glanced up at Rachel. “Nice black top and silver shoes combo.”
I agreed, but now was not the time for fashion analysis.
