Party Wall

by Cheyenne Blue

  The words she should express herself hovered on her lips. Whether she had the courage to say them… She pushed people to change. She sought to give them courage to face things no one would ever choose for themselves. Courage to change things. It was all very well for her to push Freya to change, but Freya had to want it.

  And, she acknowledged, part of the reason she was pushing for that change was in the hope that Freya would see Lily as more than an irritating neighbour. That she would reflect on the kisses they had shared and crave more. That Freya would choose a life with Lily.

  Freya was lodged firmly under Lily’s skin. She was behind her eyelids during meditation, the last thing Lily thought of when she went to sleep, and even then, there was no respite, for Freya paraded through her dreams. A dream Freya; one who laughed and loved, whose scorn was missing, and whose silver eyes were soft and misty with desire.

  She had fallen silent during her contemplation. Let the class think it was the inwards reflection needed for the exercise.

  “Spread out,” she instructed. “Find the words in your own time.”

  The need to express herself in the same way was overwhelming. She found a quiet space in the middle of the room so the corners could be saved for the timid who needed the security of walls. Lily sat in lotus pose, her hands on her knees, palms open to the ceiling.

  A few deep breaths, an inwards focus, drawing her energy to where she needed it. She let the thought coalesce, into a coil of a whisper in her chest. Freya. She would whisper her need, her want, her desire to the warm air of the room. No one would hear; the privacy and open space of the yoga room would see to that. Dimly, around her, she heard murmurs and whispers, too distant, too quiet, to hear.

  Lily focused on the word. Freya. The words around that name would find themselves when she vocalised them. One more deep breath to steady herself, and then she spoke.

  What came out was a shout, a paean, a belly laugh that started at her toes and travelled through her body before it erupted from her mouth.

  I love Freya.

  Had she really said that? The silence in the room was her answer. She scrunched her eyes tight; the stunned faces of her class were already there in her imagination. She didn’t need to see them. Gradually, the murmur of voices restarted.

  Her heart beat a frantic pulse in her chest. Lily concentrated on her breath rather than spiral into the dismay of discovery. After all, this was exactly what this workshop was about. Discovery, self-discovery. These women would not give away her secret.

  More minutes passed before she called a halt to the session. She smiled around at the women, pushing aside her own discomfort to focus on them. “Does anyone want to talk?”

  Carly followed her up to the flat after the class and perched on one of the stools at the breakfast bar. “Are you still okay with me being here?” she asked. “I didn’t expect to be here this long.”

  “It’s fine with me.” Lily poured them both a glass of water. “Stay as long as you want.”

  “Thanks. I should try staying over at the flat again. I will. Maybe tomorrow.” Carly stared down at the counter, drawing a pattern with a finger.

  Lily rummaged in the fridge, pulling out cauliflower, soy cheese, and mushrooms. That would turn into comfort food. It looked like Carly needed it. And red wine. She found a bottle tucked in the back of the pantry. When she turned, Carly was searching in the kitchen drawer for cutlery.

  “I’m not so selfish that I have to talk about me all the time.” Carly directed the words to the teaspoons. “We can pretend I didn’t hear what you shouted in class earlier. Or we can talk about it.”

  “What’s said in class, stays in class.” Lily twisted the screw top on the wine with unnecessary force.

  “Is that a no?”

  “It’s a no.”

  “You and Freya are equally stubborn. You deserve each other.” Carly set the cutlery on the counter and for the first time since the night at the bar a smile lit her face. “I won’t tell her.”

  Chapter 18

  “What the fuck are you doing with my wife!”

  Lily blinked awake, disorientated, but springing into overdrive. Her flat, her bedroom, but very definitely not her man standing by the bed, face beetroot, and hands balled into fists. Beside her, Carly stirred, pushing herself up on her hands. “Andy! What are you doing here? How did you get in?”

  “Is that all you can say? I catch you in bed with your lesbo girlfriend, and all you wonder is how I got in?”

  “Lily isn’t my—”

  The mist of confusion parted in Lily’s head. “The question of how you got in is important. Breaking and entering.”

  “The door wasn’t locked.”

  Lily grabbed her mobile from the bedside table, got out of bed, and stood tall facing Andy. She pushed her hair back from her face, willing her fingers to remain steady. Despite the knowledge she was in the right, her position was a vulnerable one. A T-shirt and undies, however long and baggy the T-shirt, made her feel exposed. “Leave. Now. You’re not welcome here.”

  “You’re in bed with my wife!”

  Lily ignored that. She daren’t look at Carly to see how her friend was taking the confrontation. “If you don’t leave now, I’m calling the police.”

  “Carls won’t let you. Will you, Carls?”

  “It’s nothing to do with Carly. This is my property. This is a home invasion and is therefore a police matter.” She closed her fingers tightly around the mobile in her hand.

  “She’s my fucking wife. You don’t have the right.” Andy took a pace towards her.

  Carly scrambled out of bed. “Andy, stop it. Get out of here and go home.”

  “Not without my wife!”

  “That would be the wife you threw over for a younger model with better bodywork without a second thought? The wife whom you thought would be content to remain at home eating toast and vegemite to save money for IVF whilst you took your girlfriend to the fancy restaurant you told me we couldn’t afford? That would be the wife whom you only seemed to notice when she was not at home? That wife? Is that the one you mean?” Carly’s voice rose from a quiet growl to a shout as she gained in strength. “Listen to me, Andy, and listen good. I am not your possession. I thought I was your equal, your mate, your partner. You’ve shown me I was wrong. And if Lily won’t call the police, I will.”

  “The fuck you will. They’ll side with me.”

  Lily turned away to shield her actions and punched out Triple Zero with shaking fingers.

  “Emergency assistance. Do you need police, fire and rescue, or ambulance?”

  “Police.”

  Andy moved forwards and backhanded the phone from Lily’s hand. It flew across the room and hit the wall with a dull thud. A glance at the screen showed the call had disconnected.

  She didn’t let herself flinch when Andy came towards her again, but he kept on going until he could grab Carly by the wrist. “We’re leaving.”

  “We’re not.” Carly jerked back but couldn’t break free.

  Andy’s feral grin sickened Lily. “Let her go.” She put as much authority in her voice as she could muster.

  “Make me.” Andy twisted Carly’s arm up behind her, forcing her to sink down to relieve the tension on her shoulder.

  There was nothing in the room that would make an effective weapon. No heavy ornaments, no water glass on the bedside table. Even her shoes were rubber thongs. Lily lowered her head and charged Andy like a bull. Her head thudded into his abdomen, sending a sharp wave of pain down her neck. She ignored it. Andy grunted, and his arm came down with heavy force across her shoulders.

  “Bitch.” His backhander caught the side of her face, and pain bloomed over her cheek.

  She backed away before he could grab her.

  With a s
harp movement, Andy twisted Carly’s arm up further behind her back. “We’re going.”

  “You’re not.” The voice in the doorway was cold, hard like tempered steel, cutting like glass. “The police are on their way. I’d say less than five minutes, given how close the cop shop is.” Freya advanced into the room. Her mobile was in one hand, the Active Call light blinking. She held one of the wrought-iron pokers from her shop, and she threw the matching ember shovel to Lily. The twisted metal was cool and solid in her hand.

  “Now would be a good time to let Carly go.” Freya’s tone was conversational; she could have been making small talk at a party. “Probably best to do it before the police arrive. They take a hard line on hostage situations.”

  “Carls isn’t a hostage. She’s coming with me willingly.” Andy jerked her arm again, his grip tightening on her wrist.

  “Let me go!” Carly kicked backwards with her bare foot striking his shin.

  He laughed. “Try harder, darling. But you always did like it rough, didn’t you?”

  “Let me go.” Carly’s voice trembled.

  Freya lifted the poker and wielded it like a cricket bat. Lily copied her movement on Andy’s other side. Freya’s presence had sharpened her mind. Her shoulders and neck screamed in pain, but she pushed that away.

  “What are you going to do? Tap me with that little matchstick?” Andy shoved Carly towards the door.

  Freya swung. The poker came down in the perfect arc of a golf swing that connected at the backs of Andy’s legs. He lurched, his knees buckling, and his grip loosened. With a twist, Carly broke free.

  “Get out,” Freya hissed to her. “Lily and I will keep him here until the police come. Go out to the street and flag them down.”

  With a panicked cry, Carly fled, her bare feet making soft noises on the wooden floor.

  Andy had barely straightened when Freya swung again. This time her aim was better and the poker slammed right into the crease behind his knees. He staggered around and lunged for her, but she dodged, flitting out of the way.

  Lily swallowed, her heart in her throat as Andy switched his gaze to her. The menace in it chilled her to the core.

  “I’d rather get you, the one who corrupted my wife.”

  The automatic denial rose in her throat, but she swallowed the words. It was pointless. She inched away. “Carly’s my friend. I want what’s best for her.”

  Out of the corner of her eye, she saw Freya’s grip tighten on the poker. Lily grasped her own weapon and held it in front of her with two hands.

  “You’ve been poisoning her mind since you met her.” Andy’s gaze switched to Freya. “You too, but you were always the harmless one.”

  Freya seemed anything but harmless now. She was ice and balm to Lily’s barely contained fear, strength radiating from her in supportive waves.

  “You always underestimate people, Andy.” Freya circled around and watched like a cat as Andy turned a smaller circle to keep her in sight.

  His back was to Lily. She didn’t stop to analyse the move, the sense of it, its possible effectiveness. She acted on instinct and swung her shovel as hard as she could, copying Freya’s swing. The shock of it connecting against the backs of Andy’s legs sent reverberations up her arms into her sore shoulders. Andy staggered, and whilst he was momentarily off balance, Lily dropped the shovel and charged. Her bulk caught him in the lower back, and he fell forwards, face down on the bed.

  Lily dropped on top of him, her knees jamming into his lower back. Freya followed, yanking his arms above his head.

  “Bedside drawer,” Lily grunted as Andy thrashed beneath her. “Handcuffs.”

  Freya lunged for the drawer with one hand and withdrew the handcuffs. Pink and fur-lined, they were a sexy toy designed for play rather than real restraint, but they would suffice for a few minutes until the police came. Freya fumbled, turning the cuffs over in her hands until she found the catch. His hands free, Andy thrashed, his arms flailing. The cuffs sprung open, and Freya snatched one of Andy’s hands and jammed the cuff around his wrist. Designed for a smaller frame than his, it was hard to close. The click as it snicked shut was the sweetest sound Lily had heard in a long time.

  Andy tried to free himself, but Freya’s wiry frame had a supple strength, and with one yank, she got his arm closer to the metal bed frame. A second click, and he was secured to the frame by one wrist.

  Lily leapt away. It was a poor fix; Andy still had one hand free. Freya moved to stand next to her, close enough that their hands brushed. Lily’s fingers trembled, and maybe sensing this, Freya reached down and clasped them in her warm hand. Steadiness and reassurance flowed through her grasp.

  Thundering feet came up the stairs, and then two police officers entered.

  “You fucking bitch.” Andy tried to roll over. “It’s not what it seems, officer. Just a little game that went a bit far.”

  The policewoman’s gaze went from the pink fur-lined handcuffs, and swept over Freya and Lily, still hand in hand, back to where Carly hovered in the doorway. Her gaze hardened and went back to Andy. “You’re under arrest.” She turned to her colleague. “Cuff him. Again.”

  Andy was quiet as the male officer cuffed him securely.

  The female turned to Carly. “Are you okay? Do you need a doctor?”

  Carly shook her head. “He didn’t hurt me much. Just grabbed my arm. Do I have to come to the station too?”

  The officer’s gaze softened. “Are you up to it? All three of you?”

  Freya nodded. Lily glanced around her bedroom. All she wanted was to set the room to rights, change the sheets, crawl into bed, and sleep. Later. That would be later. First, she had to give a statement and then make sure Carly was okay.

  Dawn was breaking as the three of them left the police station. The chorus of birdsong swelled around them as they walked away. Without debate, they went back to the shops, through the quiet streets softly lit by the dawn light.

  Freya stifled a yawn, and reached out to grasp Carly’s hand. “Tell me what I can do, Carly.”

  “Can I come home with you?” Carly’s voice was small. “I’m sorry, Lily, but I can’t face your flat right now.”

  “Understandable. I’m not sure I want to be there either.”

  They reached the doors where A Woman’s Pleasure and A Woman’s Spirit faced each other across the tiled alcove. Freya led the way into her shop.

  “I need to check on Mabel.” Lily’s dark skin seemed sallow in the morning light. Her hair was in a messy ponytail, and although she and Carly had dressed before going down the police station, Lily still had a subdued, dishevelled look.

  Freya nodded. “Come up when you’re ready.”

  Once in Freya’s living area, Carly flung herself on the couch, her hand over her eyes. “This isn’t how it was supposed to be.”

  Freya perched on the couch at Carly’s head and lifted Carly’s clenched fist from her eyes. “Life isn’t a certainty. I wish it was. I wish we knew how things would turn out.”

  “I never thought it would be like this. My life. It was supposed to be domestic bliss and happiness. Kids. Life in a small town that I love. My husband wasn’t supposed to turn into an unfaithful bully.”

  Freya was silent. Whole scenarios ran through her head: of relationships, nascent and nurturing, flowing, developing. Dead or dying. Carly had always seemed content in her marriage. Her lips twisted wryly. She obviously didn’t know her friend as well as she’d thought. She’d taken Carly’s whinges to be the usual grumbles of any relationship. And Carly’s upbeat personality had made it easy for her to skate over the deeper dissatisfactions.

  She stroked Carly’s hair, cupped her cheek in a tender gesture.

  “I don’t know how I’ll cope alone.” Carly’s eyes had the sheen of unshed tears. “Look at me. I
can’t even go home to my flat. I’ve been staying with Lily as I didn’t want to be alone. Now I’m staying with you.”

  “We’re here for you. Both of us. Stay as long as you want.”

  “Lily’s been fantastic. Supportive and comforting. I’m pathetic.” A tear ran down her cheek, but she didn’t seem to notice. “I can’t even sleep on my own. I need to know someone’s close by. It’s false security, though. When it came to it, Andy just waltzed right into Lily’s bedroom. Lily was great. And you…”

  “I heard the crash through the wall. They’re thin. I heard the shouting, the words.”

  “Thank you.” Carly captured Freya’s hand and held it between hers. “Many people would have rolled over and gone back to sleep, or banged on the wall and shouted to keep the noise down.”

  Footsteps sounded on the stairs and Lily reappeared, Mabel in her arms. “I hope you don’t mind. She must have been very scared. It took me a bit to find her; she was hiding in the laundry basket.”

  “That’s fine.” Freya watched as the cat stalked off and found Dorcas, where she was sprawled on the couch. “Does anyone want coffee?”

  “Love some.” Carly’s eyes had dark rings under them, and her face was pinched and drawn, but she managed a smile. “I’ll make it.” She disappeared in the direction of the kitchen, and there was the sound of cupboards opening and closing, and a tap running.

  Left alone with Lily, Freya found she didn’t know what to say.

  Lily seemed far away. Freya followed her gaze over to the mural. The curling lushness of an Australian rainforest. The two naked women, hand in hand, like Eves of a happier time. But instead of studying the art of the finished part, Lily was studying the unfinished section, where the paint ran into a pencilled outline, and then into nothing but white wall.

  Lily’s mouth turned down in a rueful twist and she went over to sit next to Mabel, and petted the small head in soothing strokes. “You can talk to me.” Her head bent as her fingers passed over the cat’s fur. “Andy was way wrong. Carly was in my bed purely because she was nervous and didn’t want to be alone. No other reason.” She shot a glance towards the kitchen. “I honestly don’t know how she’ll go alone. She’ll need our support, I think.”