Instigations

by Kiki Archer

  “Honestly it’s fine; no one wants a melodramatic teenager as a flatmate. Come on,” she turned to Lucy who was now off the bed and stood at her shelf getting the two miniature skeletons to hold hands and kiss. “Is the film ready?”

  Lucy quickly tried to re-attach the arm bone that had fallen out of the socket. “Umm yes.” The joint was fiddly so she placed the bone between the skeleton’s legs instead. Looking up she offered a quick apology and then answered Freya’s question. “We chose this film especially for you girls. It is about Maggie Thatcher. It’s called the Bronze Woman or something like that.”

  “Really?” laughed Kat, grabbing Freya’s hand and pulling her off the bed. Both following the glow of Lucy’s neon tracksuit into the dimly lit lounge.

  “Ah sweet, look at you two love birds.” Ben spoke from all fours in front of the complex DVD player. He was only just getting used to seeing Kat in such an open environment. As a colleague she was the epitome of professional, always striving to be the best for the school and its students, never turning a blind eye or taking the easy option. He had learnt many a lesson from her. The realisation that she had inadvertently kissed one of her soon to be Sixth Form pupils last year on a night out had caused great anguish, quickly followed by huge torture as she accepted her feelings were real and growing. Ben had not been part of the loop and Kat had tried her best to restrain her heart and do the job that she had been assigned at Coldfield - teach history to the best of her ability - a student teacher affair clearly not in the job description. They got there in the end though, he thought, looking back up and wondering when the sight of them together would cease to cause such a rush of blood to Mr Long. “Oh bugger!” he sighed, waving the empty DVD case in the air. They have forgotten to put the disc in.”

  “Don’t worry, we can watch something else,” smiled Lucy, diving onto the leather sofa, secretly relieved.

  “No, I will dash back to the shop and get it.”

  Lucy hauled herself back off the comfy cushions. “Come on then handsome. I will keep you company.”

  “Sorry girls,” he said, walking to the hall and reaching for his brown bomber jacket that was hanging from the overcrowded coat rack, “be back in ten.”

  Kat and Freya snuggled up on the free sofa.

  Lucy pulled on her bright yellow puffa jacket and was about to slam the heavy apartment door when she turned back with a wink and added, “Have fun, scissor sisters.”

  Freya watched the door slam shut and rested her head on Kat’s shoulder. “Where does she get it from?”

  “I don’t know, but they should bottle it.” She paused and twisted a long piece of chestnut hair that was softly touching her bare arm. “Lucy has the ability to swallow, summarise and solve any issue in a matter of minutes. And to be fair to her, most of the time she is right.”

  “And what would she tell me to do?”

  Kat straightened up and looked into Freya’s green eyes, knowing intuitively what she was referring to. “Honestly?”

  “Yes.”

  “She would have some crazy saying about living for the moment, doing what you want to do, sodding your mother. Then she would tell a joke about sodding your mother, and ask you a really rude would you rather question about sodding your mother,” she paused and kissed Freya’s forehead, “and by that time you’d be laughing so much that you’d realise that she was right and you’d be wondering what you had been worrying about in the first place.” She raised her eyebrows in apology, “But I’m not Lucy, and you are like me ... but you hide it much better than I do ... we worry when things are not completely right.”

  Freya leaned her head back against the firm black sofa and sighed. “But should I care about what mum thinks?”

  “You wouldn’t be you if you didn’t.”

  “I guess I just want to feel that she truly loves me for who I am.”

  “She will ... one day. It will just take time. I think at the moment this is more about her, about what her friends will think. About what the neighbours will think.”

  “What, that she was responsible for making me gay?”

  “Maybe.” Kat paused. “There is lots of research that suggests a high proportion of lesbian women had a bad relationship with their mother whilst growing up. Hence why they seek the love of another woman in later life.”

  “Do you believe that?”

  Kat smiled and shook her head. “No.”

  “Good, because I’m certainly not looking to you for any sort of motherly love!” She took Kat’s hand and gently kissed her long elegant fingers. “I just want her to get over it and get on with it.”

  “And she will, but can you see how she might question it? She might worry it was something she did which made you turn out like this.”

  “So basically I just need to say - Mother, I love tits! Nothing you did, I just love tits!”

  Kat laughed. “Lucy has already started to rub off on you!” She smiled. “But yes, maybe you should. Or just show her. Show her you’re happy, show her how accepting people are; show her that this is normal.” She looked at Freya with passion, “Because it is. Nothing has ever felt as natural as this does now.”

  Kat could be mesmerising and any response Freya had planned was lost in those penetrating blue eyes and their gentle meeting of lips.

  ****

  Ben and Lucy strode arm in arm towards the bright DVD shop. It was a damp evening and the shining lights of the store glowed out in contrast, calling them in for refuge and warmth. Ben reached round to Lucy’s shoulder and pulled her close. “Come on babe, let’s hurry.”

  She snuggled in tightly, marvelling at the way his strong armed gesture made her feel so small and fragile. Womanly was the word she liked to use. She realised she was a powerful girl which made Ben’s physique all the more appealing. Usually in a relationship she was the one with the muscles, the height, the strong personality, and very quickly the text message that read, ‘Sorry Luce, great fun but just too much for me!’ This time it was different. This time he got her jokes, laughed at them and then came back with something even more extreme. This time he praised her muscles without the slightest hint of jealousy and even encouraged her to train to the next level. This time he said I love you like he meant it. “Our year anniversary soon,” she giggled into his ear.

  He squeezed her even tighter. “I know babe, and what a fanfuckytastic year it has been!” Her wide brown eyes dropped away, so he added, “... and Lucy Lovett, I want many more fanfuckytastic years to come,” they were back, eager and wide. “In fact I want every year from now on to be fanbloodyfuckytastic!” He stopped the walk at the edge of the pavement and pulled her in front of himself, studying her strong features and sharp Betty Boo haircut. She was perfect for him and he loved her completely. “I’m not going anywhere.”

  “Apart from the DVD shop,” she added, smiling to herself and dragging him across the road with one hand.

  “Yes, apart from the DVD shop,” he laughed as she hauled him up the curb and in through the sliding electric doors. He would let her win this battle of strength for now; confident in his ability to overpower her later on in the bedroom. Their muscular bodies made for explosive sex and their matched stamina made for frequent explosive sex. He never tired of the way she returned from an afternoon of teaching at the local gym only to want a further work out of her own. She was incredible, and she was his. He grinned and yanked her back, pulling her in for a huge public snog just inside the shop.

  “Mummy, Mummy. Kissing!” The little boy was pointing at them and sticking out his tongue. He blew a loud raspberry. “Yuck!”

  “Excuse me,” said the boy’s mother, trying to balance four DVD’s, one handbag, two bags of popcorn and a wriggling, raspberry blowing three year old boy in her arms. The kissing couple in the doorway didn’t move, so she tried to quietly edge past, but lost control of the pile of Disney movies when another wet raspberry sprayed her cheek.

  “Mummy, Mummy, Peter Pan on floor!” wailed the little b
oy in instant waterless tears.

  She sighed in despair and crouched down to unload her arms and start again. “Stand absolutely still - there is a road out there.” The woman sighed. Life had been getting easier as her son got older, but now every small outing and every seemingly simple task always took forever and the smallest mishap could often bring her close to tears. She took a deep breath and composed herself, reaching for the scattered films. “Oh no!” She crawled quickly to the pick and mix stand and took a large wet jelly baby from his chomping mouth. “These are not for us.”

  The little boy reached inside his cheek and pulled out another one, carefully placing it back in the see-through box. “Sorry Mummy.”

  The woman looked up. Nobody had noticed so she shuffled on her knees back to the scattered pile of belongings. I really am a bad person she thought, seeing a heavily pierced teenage girl scope a large mound of jelly babies into an already overflowing cup, aware that her son’s wet one was in the mix. She reached for the two bags of popcorn and her handbag and rose slowly to her feet. Dizziness had become quite hard to avoid.

  “Are these yours?” said Ben, holding the neat pile of Disney DVDs.

  She would have forgotten them. “Yes!” She took the films, shoved them under her arm, took her son’s hand, made a mental check, then realised; car keys! She spotted them on the counter and turned back around to collect them.

  “Lisa?”

  She paused and returned to the man, realising she was indeed a bad person for her forgotten word of thanks. She took a tight hold of her son’s hand and focused. “Thanks for that. Sorry, simple trips are just so difficult with a little one.”

  “Lisa?”

  She had not even realised that he had used her name.

  “How are you? It’s been ages.” Ben felt an unexpected pang of emotion.

  She squeezed her son’s hand even tighter, lost for words.

  Ben bent down and wiggled his head in front of the little boy. “And who is this big champ?”

  The little boy giggled as the huge man with sticky-up blonde hair pulled funny faces and buzzed his nose with an enormous finger.

  “My son. Thanks again, but we really must go.” In one fail swoop she reached for the missing keys and headed back to the electric doors.

  “Wow, well nice to see you.” The exchange was awkward, but the anger and questions just weren’t there. Nothing spilled out. I must have grown up and moved on, concluded Ben as he watched her leave. She clearly has too he smiled, seeing the cute little boy wrestling with her hand and peering back at them.

  The glass doors were about to thud shut. “My name is Benny,” came the final shout.

  ****

  “You two took your time,” joked Freya, now showered and snuggled back with Kat on the black leather sofa.

  “Oooo, you two did not have your pyjamas on when we left, and your hair was not wet either Kat!” She bashed Ben’s chest. “We would have caught them if we’d have hurried!”

  He didn’t smile.

  She slung her huge puffa on the coat rack. “Oh come on! I’m cool with it. It makes no odds to me!”

  “What?” Kat peered over her shoulder at them as she tied her wet hair into a high knot.

  Lucy wiggled towards the lounge and chanted, “We met Ben’s old girlfriend.”

  “And did you wipe the floor with her?” joked Freya, licking the tip of her finger and making a ticking gesture in the air.

  “Of course!” she paused, “...well no. She was blonde, gorgeous, huge boobs - you know - one of those women who draw on their eyebrows. But...” she put her hands together in front of her chest and started to jump like a kangaroo, “...she had a ring and offspring!” The chanting began again, “...a ring and offspring!”

  Freya did an exaggerated wipe of her brow. “So no competition for you then.” It had become common practice for the girls to gossip like Ben was not even there.

  He huffed nosily. “It was years ago!” Hanging his brown bomber jacket next to Lucy’s neon sports coat he added, “I hadn’t noticed the ring though.”

  “It was HUGE!”

  He smiled and relaxed, taking the reinstated DVD from its box and kneeling back at the machine. “Cute kid. What was he, about one?”

  “Give over!” Lucy bounced into her area on the sofa and lifted her feet to the black pouffe. “Oh bless you babe! Why are men so rubbish with kids ages? He was at least three.”

  Ben fumbled with the case. “You know what, I’m not really in the mood for this. You girls enjoy. I’m going to do the boring sensible thing and get an early night.” He stood up and headed towards Lucy’s room. “First day with my new Year Nine tutor group tomorrow and I need to have my wits about me.” He spoke with more sensation than he actually felt.

  “Oh no, come on! I’m not interested in watching about the Queen, but anything is bearable when you’re cuddled up next to me.” She widened her brown puppy dog eyes; that always seemed to work.

  “No seriously, night guys. New school year, nice fresh face!” He smiled unconvincingly as he waved goodnight and entered the bedroom.

  Lucy waited for the door to click closed then immediately dived onto Kat and Freya’s adjoining bit of sofa. “She called her kid Benny!” she mouthed, with giggly facial expressions.

  “What?” whispered Freya.

  She piped up, “The ex girlfriend called her kid Benny! How embarrassing for her! I think they must have been childhood sweethearts or something. I pretended not to hear. I don’t want him thinking that I’m bothered.”

  “Are you?”

  “No, of course not.” She got back up and silently started the ridiculous kangaroo dance again. “She’s got a ring and offspring,” she mouthed.

  Kat reached for the remote. “Come on, this is meant to be fab.”

  Lucy pouted and plopped back onto the sofa, her voice back to normal volume. “If we must! But don’t you two start telling me all about the fifteen hundreds.”

  Freya and Kat shared a secret smile. “Margaret Thatcher. The Iron Lady?” offered Kat.

  “Oh no! It’s not one of those films set in medieval England is it, with dusty streets and horses and blacksmiths and stuff?”

  “Oh Lucy,” sighed Kat, all hope lost.

  Chapter Six

  Kat and Freya sat on the tall red stools at the breakfast bar, both enjoying their unique choice of cereal. Last night’s film had been wonderful and a lovely way to end to a very special six week summer holiday. It was now back to reality, and the sensible breakfast sitting in front of them was the first sign of things getting back to normal. They had been spending their time enjoying lazy breakfasts in bed, or leisurely brunches at the Coldfield Park cafe. But this morning was a school morning and Kat always opted for the same choice on a school day - Muesli with orange juice, instead of milk. Apparently that was the way it was traditionally eaten when introduced in 1900 by the Swiss physician Maximilian-Bircher-Benner, for patients in his hospital - or so Freya had just learnt. She looked down at her own bowl of Golden Grahams glistening with extra added sugar. “Well, did you know that Golden Grahams is a brand of breakfast cereal owned by General Mills and that it consists of small toasted square shaped cereal pieces made of whole wheat and corn, and the taste is a mix of honey and brown sugar?”

  “Give it here,” laughed Kat reaching across the raised counter for the yellow box. “You know your mother would tell me off for allowing you to eat these.” She pulled a couple from the box to try.

  “Whoa there!” Freya’s green eyes narrowed. “Let’s get one thing straight early on in our relationship. Nobody, but nobody, allows me to do anything.”

  Kat could sense the naughtiness in her tone but was also mindful of her fiery independence and determined personality. She may once have been her student, but now she was more than her equal. “Sorry, wrong choice of words.” She popped a couple of the squares in and smiled. “Oh my goodness, mmm, they’re lovely.”

  “See, you can learn things
from me too!”

  Kat swallowed the sweet tasting bites and spoke with sincerity, “You, Freya Elton, have already taught me more than you’ll ever fully realise.”

  “Oh lover, come here.” She swivelled on her red seat and held Kat’s thighs between her hands. Kissing her gently she teased, “Eugh, I just tasted that horrible Muesli stuff.”

  “You know what? I might just mix a couple of these in.” Kat grabbed a handful of sugary squares and added them into her bowl of wet mush. “Lover?” she smiled, “I like that one.”

  “Better than Sweetie?” questioned Freya.

  “By miles!”

  “And what am I? Your Babe? Your Honey?”

  Kat smiled. “No, I think my favourite at the moment is Sexpot.”

  “I like it,” grinned Freya, “bit awkward when we greet each other when people are around.”

  “Well Lover is hardly any better!”

  “Teach it is then!”

  “Just call me Kat. I’m your Kat.”

  “Yes, you are aren’t you.” She smiled. “You’re my Kat.”

  Kat winked, “Well, you have got the best pussy in town!”

  “Don’t start all that again!” Freya slapped her thighs and giggled, “And I still can’t believe I never saw this side of you last year ... yet I still managed to fall head over heels in love with the professional, straight laced side of you.” She took Kat’s hand, “You had me at Hello...” Freya jumped off the stool and grinned, “Hello, My name is Miss Spicer and I will be your new teacher for this final year.” She flicked her hair.

  “I did not flick my hair!”

  “Yes you did. And you sashayed around the classroom not even noticing that I was there, hiding in the corner, absolutely bricking the fact that I’d snogged the face off you on that Friday night.” They both loved to reminisce about their first meeting and subsequent excruciating battle of wills.

  “Look at us now,” they almost sighed in unison.

  “Any nerves?” asked Kat, swallowing her final mouthful and standing up. She stepped towards the door and reached for her beige rain mac.