by Clare Lydon
“You’ve had wine!” Tash pouted. “I want wine.”
Laura patted her leg then checked her lights were on low as she turned left onto a smaller country road.
“We’ll get you some – not long now,” Laura said.
Tash squeezed her leg back.
“So what’s going on with you two anyway? How are the kiddies?” Geri was still hanging in the space between the two.
“Shouldn’t we be asking you that question?” Laura smirked at Geri via her mirror.
“Yes, very droll.” Geri’s look could best be described as withering.
“They’re good – with Simon this weekend,” Tash said. “And nothing’s going on with us, we live in Essex, remember?” She turned her head to Gimpy, who made a face and slumped into the back seat.
“Don’t think London’s one long party.” Geri said. “It’s just more expensive.”
“You not still seeing that girl?” Laura asked.
“Which one?”
“Which one?” Tash laughed.
“Well I was kinda seeing a blonde at one point, but that didn’t work out. Then there was the Aussie too.”
“The Aussie – Kelly?” Laura said.
“Yep, Kelly,” Geri nodded. “Nope, it kinda fizzled out after a few dates. She was a bit young….”
“I rest my case,” Laura said.
“How old?” Tash asked.
Geri licked her lips. “Twenty-seven.”
“Oh my God, 27! I remember 27. I got engaged at 27.” Tash shuddered before twisting to face Geri. “What do 27 year olds talk about?”
Geri rubbed her eyes. “I wasn’t worried about the talking.” A yawn. “But she did keep talking about music I’d never heard of. I mean, I’m not even out of touch. Plus, being Aussie, there was a big cultural gap. She’d never seen half the shows I talked about and she just kept wanting to go out. It got wearing.”
“27 year olds will do that,” Tash said.
“Yeah well, I kept up for a bit, then…” Geri puffed out her cheeks, grinning. “Still, who knows what awaits in Devon? Maybe I’ll meet a hot surfer chick and move here. I’ve always quite fancied living in the country.”
“I’m sure they have criminals here too,” Tash said. “You could be like the village bobby. Or the village Gimp.” She laughed heartily at her joke, as Laura joined in too.
Geri ran her fingers through her hair and rolled her eyes silently in the back.
“Ha ha, you two. You know, we’re going to have words about my nickname this weekend.”
Tash turned again, wide-eyed. “You want it changed to something like Gimpy The Great?”
“Or just plain Geri would be fine.”
“You’d miss it when it was gone.” Laura pulled up at a junction. The red arrow of the sat nav was telling her to go right but the sign ahead of her said Exmouth was left. “Should we be going right?” she asked Tash, who sat up and peered at the sign ahead.
“The sign says left.”
“I know, but the sat nav says right,” Laura said.
Geri leant forward again. “I’d go with the sign,” she said, looking at Laura, then Tash. “And if I’m right, you have to back me up when I talk to everyone this weekend about calling me Geri from now on and not Gimpy. Deal?”
Tash turned to Geri as Laura clicked the left-hand indicator and pulled out.
“What if you’re wrong, though – do we get to call you Gimpy The Great for ever more?”
Geri shook her head and sat back. “Sometimes it worries me that you’re in charge of the upbringing of two impressionable children, you know.”
Tash smiled in the front seat and glanced at the sat nav, which had recalibrated itself. Tash didn’t have a lot of time for sat navs.
“Have you been in touch with Kat, by the way?” Laura glanced at Geri in her rear-view mirror.
Geri shook her head. “Nah, she’s been a bit off the radar of late – you know Kat and her work schedule.” She paused. “It’ll be good to catch up with her this weekend.”
Tash couldn’t help rolling her eyes. “Will it?”
Laura glanced sideways and shot her a warning glance.
“What?” Tash said, her tone rising with every millisecond. “I’m just saying what everyone else is thinking. Kat’s party trick of drinking as much as she can and falling over wore thin on me the third time I saw it. I just wonder when everyone else will get bored with it, too.”
“Babe…” Laura said.
Tash held up her hands in defence. “And yes, I know I know, she’s your old friend and we shouldn’t think these things, but really, she’s nearly 40 now, not 20. She needs to grow the fuck up.”
Geri chuckled and moved to hanging between Tash and Laura again, a smile etched on her face. “No, tell us what you really think, Tash…”
The Reunion
By the time Kat and Abby got to the pub it was gone nine o’clock and Stevie and Vic were drinking the local cider which was called Rattler, rust red in colour.
The pair hugged Vic and Stevie, the new arrivals turning heads in the pub. Kat was wearing a white shirt that was only on its first or second outing, judging by its stiffness. Abby was dressed in her standard retro gear, flowery dress circling around her slim calves.
“Look at you!” Stevie held Kat at arm’s length and swept her eyes up and down her body. “Damn, girl, you’ve lost some weight! When did that happen?”
Kat smiled as her cheeks reddened. “You know, just trying to eat right and exercise as I approach old age.”
“Old age my arse – you look amazing.”
As Vic and Stevie introduced themselves to Abby, the dark-haired barmaid with the twinkly eyes rounded the bar brandishing menus. She wore jeans and a matching shirt but, despite the double denim, still managed to exude allure.
“Hi – just to let you know if you want food, you’ll have to be quick as the kitchen closes soon.”
She looked down at Abby expectantly then flicked her eyes to Kat.
Abby smiled up at her and shook her head. “Thanks, but we already ate.”
The barmaid nodded and started collecting up the rest of the menus from the tables around the pub.
Abby followed her rear until Kat slapped her leg and gave her a look. Abby grinned at being caught out.
“I could have had some chips,” Kat moaned, staring after the barmaid.
“I’m just looking after your health,” Abby replied.
“As well as checking out her butt.”
“She passed my buoyancy test.”
“You have a buoyancy test?” Stevie said. She leant forward, interest piqued.
“She’s arse-obsessed,” Kat stated.
“Correction – arse-inquisitive. Only obsessed with yours.” Abby leaned over and rubbed Kat’s knee.
“Sure,” Kat smiled. “Plus, I’d like to point out the double-denim horror – no excuse for that.”
“Very 80s, though, and 80s is all back in now,” Stevie said.
“Back in again?” Kat made a face, before pushing herself upwards. She turned to the bar then twisted back to the group. “I’m going to get a drink – spritzer?” she asked Abby.
“The Rattler’s good – want to taste?” Vic offered her pint but Abby had already screwed up her face in disgust.
“My cider-drinking days are long gone.”
“When in Rome,” Vic shrugged. She took a sip.
Abby turned her attention back to Kat. “Yes please – but make sure it’s soda not lemonade…”
“…I know,” Kat said. She turned to walk to the bar.
Stevie sat back and smiled warmly at Abby. “So you found it okay?”
“No problems at all. Is the house far?”
“Nope – five minutes away. You want to go dump the car and walk back?”
Abby considered this, then nodded. “Yeah – you mind?”
Stevie shook her head while she sto
od up. “No problem.” She turned to Vic. “Don’t drink my cider, okay?”
Vic smiled. “Only if I run out of mine.”
The pair disappeared and Kat came back with drinks, looking puzzled. “What happened?”
“They’ve gone to dump the car,” Vic said.
“Right.”
“So things going well with you and Abby?” Vic asked as Kat put the drinks on the table. “Not drinking?” She nodded towards Kat’s coke.
Kat shook her head. “Not tonight,” she said, glossing over the fact. “And yeah, things are going well with Abby. She’s exactly what I need right now.”
“Right now?” Vic raised an eyebrow.
Kat shrugged. “Live in the moment.” She took a sip of her coke. “What about you guys?”
Vic tried to be nonchalant, but failed. “You know, getting there. Slowly. We have good days and bad days, but I fucked up so I have to put up with it. She’s not divorcing me, so that’s good.”
Kat let out a strangled laugh. “Look on the bright side. But man, you really did fuck up.”
“Yeah, thanks for the reminder.”
Vic gave Kat a hard stare and Kat dropped it. Vic knew the topic would come up this weekend but she clearly wanted to get through the first evening at least without having to bare her soul. Kat smiled – getting deep and meaningful wasn’t a pastime Vic rated highly.
“So why only good for now?” Vic asked.
“Huh?”
“Abby – she seems lovely…”
Kat considered the question for a minute. “A mix of things,” she said. “I’m just… in a funny place right now. I’m working things out, making some changes. I don’t know yet whether Abby’s part of those long-term or not – but of course, she has a say in that too.” Kat smiled and spread her hands out, palms up. “But right now…”
Vic nodded, before indicating Kat’s drink. “I take it that’s part of your changes?”
Kat nodded slowly, her cheeks flushing redder despite herself. There was plenty of time this weekend to reveal the rest, no point in doing it on the first night to an audience of one.
“Well this is a side of you I’ve never seen before…” Vic said. “What about work – that going well?”
“Great,” Kat said, before looking away.
FRIDAY
The front door slamming woke Stevie from her slumber and she blinked a few times while looking around the room before she remembered where she was. Stylish bedroom. Warm sheets. In Devon. For their 20th university reunion. Twenty years. It didn’t feel that long since they’d left university and yet it also seemed like it had happened to a whole different group of people from another planet. Did she really used to queue at the bar for 50p pints of cider in flimsy plastic cups? She felt beyond old and pondered briefly what it felt like to be dead. Probably not much older than this.
Stevie rubbed her eyes and exhaled, knowing she could chalk up last night as another night of interrupted sleep. It was a well-trodden path ever since the incident and was now such a part of who she was, she didn’t even question it. Stevie Wright, 40, teacher, insomniac.
Sometimes though, she didn’t think she even qualified for the title of insomniac. Stevie’s sleeping had become a tasting menu of sleep – small portions, brought to her as and when the sleep chef desired. She knew from stark experience the sleep chef was of the Lean Cuisine variety. Even her dreams had been selected from the value range lately, distinctly lacking in flavour.
She rolled over and looked at Vic’s sleeping form – she felt comforted and disappointed, again a familiar pattern. After a few seconds’ tussle, she leant over and kissed Vic’s shoulder. It felt 63% normal this morning.
“You awake?” Stevie whispered. Vic smelled sweet and musky. Despite everything, her smell was still one of Stevie’s favourites – especially freshly baked Vic.
“Hmmmm,” Vic replied.
Stevie’s smile was audible. “People are getting up – either that or Stu’s just arrived.”
“What time is it?”
“Just after ten.”
Vic turned her body to face Stevie, keeping a safe distance as had been non-verbally agreed. “Stu won’t be here yet – too early.”
“Well someone’s up,” Stevie said. She pulled the duvet up further.
“My head hurts.” Vic’s short brown hair was matted with sleep, the left side of her face creased with pillow marks.
“Could that be because you insisted on having another pint of Rattler last night when we all kept telling you to pace yourself?”
Vic harrumphed.
Stevie continued. “You know how it is with these things – don’t get too excited on the first night, there’s still three nights to go.”
“I blame Gimpy.”
“She put a gun to your head?”
“No, but I think she was trying to chat up the barmaid or something, so she kept wanting to go up to the bar,” Vic mumbled into her pillow.
“And were you trying to impress her too by showing off your drinking prowess?”
Vic closed her eyes and frowned.
“I’m going to see who’s up.” Stevie swung herself left and out of bed, leaving Vic pouting as she wrapped the duvet around herself, forming a cocoon. Stevie found her slippers in the case and put on a maroon sweatshirt over her grey vest top – it had the letter ‘H’ stitched in large grey type covering her left breast. Her blond hair was sticking up at angles hipsters might pay hairdressers large sums of money to achieve.
“See you in a bit,” she said.
Vic peeked out of the duvet and watched her wife go, feeling the familiar distance settle on her like morning dew.
***
“I wondered who it was,” Stevie said. She smiled as she walked over to the feature window where Geri was sitting on the wooden window seat staring out to sea, a mug of tea in hand.
Geri jumped when she heard Stevie’s voice. Hot tea spilt onto her purple pyjamas.
“Fuck.” Geri got up, holding her mug away from her body, standing on tiptoes in the manner of a tightrope walker.
“Sorry!” Stevie tried to mop Geri’s pyjamas with her hand for a few seconds, but then gave it up as a bad job, giving her a hug instead.
“S’alright, they were dirty anyway,” Geri grinned. “Great view though. I was miles away.”
“At sea with the pirates?”
“Sexy lady pirates.”
“Are there any other kind?”
Stevie settled beside Geri and felt her warmth through the close proximity of their bodies.
Geri’s lips were still glistening with tea, her hair still wavy in its pre-straightened form.
“How come you’re up?” Geri asked. “I can’t sleep in these days, but I thought all the couples would be busy having noisy sex. I decided not to listen in and come downstairs instead.”
Stevie smiled sadly at her assumption. “You have high expectations of married life, my friend. Besides, my darling wife has a Rattler-sized hangover, so she’s busy feeling sorry for herself upstairs. I think sex might make her head explode.”
Geri laughed heartily and Stevie stared out the window with her old friend and old flame, hearing the huge laugh that first drew her to Geri in the university bar over 20 years ago.
The contours of Geri’s body, what it felt like to kiss her and to make love to her, Stevie couldn’t remember, for which she was thankful. Old lovers fade after a while, their touch, their taste – but some things remained – Geri’s laugh, Geri’s humour, Geri’s killer green eyes. Stevie could well understand why women still wanted to sleep with Geri now. She was trim and gorgeous with a sexy police badge to boot.
Stevie also remembered that Geri cheated on her and that was why they split up. However, it was so long ago now, it was like it had happened in a book she had once read. Stevie remembered the face and the hurt of the young lover and she could empathise, but the flavour of hurt now seemed vanill
a, eminently palatable, available to order online for calm, reassured heartbreak. Stevie knew they’d been young and she didn’t hold grudges.
She’d seen seismic changes in herself over the intervening two decades and she’d witnessed similar changes in Geri. But what Stevie knew now that she clearly didn’t know then was that Geri had difficulties with relationships. Sure, Geri had embarked on a few lengthy liaisons, but never anything over two years – as soon as she got to that stage she seemed to press the eject button, not knowing how to get over the ridge.
But that was then, and Geri’s infidelity seemed like child’s play compared to now. In her low moments Stevie wondered if she was just the kind of woman who got cheated on and that was her lot in life. But she knew in her heart that wasn’t true. Stevie was way too much of a romantic to believe that.
She wasn’t one to keep in touch with her exes, but being bound up in her close university group, Geri was one she never wanted to shake: Geri was like family. She was proud of the way they’d navigated their way out of their sexual relationship and back to friendship – where they’d first met and where they should have always stayed.
Now it felt to Stevie like it was where they’d always been and she was more than comfortable with that. After everything that’d happened in the last six months, it was good to feel the connection of old friends with such rich, shared history.
“I need coffee – come with me to the kitchen?”
Geri nodded and padded behind Stevie in socked feet through the hallway and into the kitchen, which was classic white with hints of red, an island and breakfast bar at one end.
“I could seriously get used to a kitchen like this – it’s bigger than my flat.” Geri took a seat at the breakfast bar on the left while Stevie filled the kettle.
“No need for that you know,” Geri told her, nodding to the kitchen counter.
Stevie followed her gaze to the Nespresso machine and bowl of coffee pods sitting beside it, reassuring in their metallic colourings.
“Too much for my brain this morning.” Stevie grabbed a mug and flicked on the kettle.
“It’s what all the movers and shakers have these days. Cafetières are so last century.” Geri scratched her head. “Who’d have thought Devon was so hip?”
