by Clare Lydon
“Girlfriend, live-in lover, sex slave, whatever you like.”
Joy laughed. “I’ll introduce you as my sex slave at Grasspoint next time someone asks.”
“They’d probably love it,” Scarlet replied. “They don’t hold back up there, do they? Audrey asked if I’d ever had sex with a man and when did I know I was a lesbian for sure. I think Audrey might be having some issues of her own.”
“And I thought I was a late bloomer,” Joy spluttered. “When did she ask this?”
“Just after I finished — she’d clearly been stewing on it while I was playing.”
“Serves you right for dedicating a song about kissing to me. Stands to reason they’re going to start thinking about us kissing, or worse.”
Scarlet recoiled. “But not all of them wanted to know about our sex lives. Robert was asking me about my flat, and when I was likely to get back in. I told him it was looking more like months, than weeks.”
Joy rubbed Scarlet’s back. “Have you heard anything from the insurance people yet?”
“This week they reckoned.”
“Good job you’re not in a hurry then, isn’t it?”
Scarlet smiled. “Good job.” She paused. “And I really am grateful you letting me stay here. I will be giving you some money towards the bills and mortgage, so don’t try to fight it.”
“You know I will.”
Scarlet wrestled Joy onto her back on the sofa. “Stop trying,” she said, tickling her. “You’re only going to lose.”
Then she went for the jugular: Joy’s sides, tickling her until she shrieked in submission. Then Scarlet was lying on top of Joy, her weight on her elbows, and she leaned down to kiss her. Doing so still made Scarlet tingle all over, every single time.
“You’re amazing, you know that?”
Joy looked bashful. “So says you.”
“So says everyone. You do so much for this town, and you’ve done so much for me. Am I your favourite subject, Mrs Mayor?”
Joy reached a hand around and squeezed Scarlet’s butt cheek. “You definitely qualify as having my favourite bum in the town, if that helps?”
Scarlet chuckled at that. “It’ll have to do, I guess.” She paused, wrinkling her forehead. There was so much she wanted to say to Joy, but the old Scarlet was still lingering, and she was still a little tongue-tied when it came to emotions. “I don’t know what I’d do without you.”
Joy kissed her lips. “You don’t have to worry about that — we’re stuck together, like it or not.”
“I like it.”
“Good,” Joy replied. “I kinda like it, too.”
“And you’re really okay with me staying here?”
Joy rolled her eyes. “How many times do I have to say? You are welcome to stay as long as you like. I want you here, Scarlet. I hope you know that.”
Scarlet nodded.
“I don’t want to freak you out, but you’ve made the difference. I’ve lived here two years, but it’s only since you’ve moved in that it’s felt like a home. It’s taken you to make me start living again, and turn this house into a home. So you’ve got no choice, you have to stay.”
“Well, when you put it like that,” Scarlet replied.
“In fact, I’m kinda dreading you moving out when your flat’s ready.” Joy’s face fell at the thought.
Scarlet kissed her lips again. She’d been putting off thinking about that at all, as it seemed such an abstract notion when her flat was still the shell it once was. Besides, this felt like home now, not there. But that conversation was for another day. “That’s a few months off yet, so you’re stuck with me for now.”
“Good,” Joy replied. “And I’ve been thinking — we should go on a date. A proper date, with cutlery, drinks in sparkly glasses, the works. And I’d like to go on a gay date, too.”
Scarlet grinned. “A gay date? Do we have to wear feather boas and sing Kylie?”
Joy rolled her eyes. “That’s a gay man date. I mean a lesbian date, where we shave our heads and get tattoos.” She let out a laugh. “Seriously, I mean go to a gay bar, then for dinner. I’ve never been out on the scene with a girlfriend before, so it’ll be fun.”
Scarlet smiled. “We can do that,” she said. “I’d be honoured to be your first official gay date. We can snog in a corner of the bar if you like, too.”
“I would love that,” Joy replied.
“Me, too.”
CHAPTER TWENTY-TWO
Two weeks later, and the town was almost back to working order, even if it was going to take many months for some businesses and homes to recover. The school was running out of the village nextdoor and Dulshaw FC were set to play the next few home games at their local rivals until the stands could be fixed.
Bucking the trend, the local cinema had just reopened its doors thanks to the hard work of the staff and volunteers, and many residents were installed back in their homes, the scent of bleach fading. However, for some properties, including Scarlet’s, the road to dryness and total rebuilding was still some way off.
But tonight, that wasn’t at the forefront of Joy’s mind, as today was date night in Manchester, and Joy was tingling with excitement. She’d never been out on the gay scene in Manchester, but she’d seen it on TV. Now, finally at the age of 38, she was getting to explore it.
A train and a cab took them to the gay village, and then Scarlet was guiding her down some steps and into a bar with low lighting, a long, chrome bar, and bartenders wearing black shirts and slick hair.
“It looks like a bar,” Joy said, sitting down on a black leather couch by the far wall with her rum and coke. She’d stopped trying to keep up with Scarlet’s pints now they knew each other a little better.
Scarlet gave her a look. “What were you expecting?”
Joy shrugged. “I don’t know. I just expected it to be more gay, I suppose.”
“We’re starting off easy — this is more of a cocktail bar. It used to be different, but times have changed. You wouldn’t have wanted to come in here a decade ago.”
“It might have been better than what I was actually doing. You know, being married to a man.”
Scarlet laughed. “Don’t be so sure. You could have been gay and miserable, too.”
“Not if I was having sex with you,” Joy said, before kissing Scarlet.
Joy glanced around, taking in groups of friends and couples, both gay and straight, enjoying the evening. Then she sucked on the inside of her cheek.
Scarlet narrowed her eyes. “What is it?”
“Nothing.”
“Don’t ‘nothing’ me,” Scarlet said. “We may be new, but I know stuff about you already. And that face says you’re thinking something but you’re not quite sure if it’s okay to say it out loud or not.”
Joy opened her mouth to speak, then shut it. How did Scarlet know that? It wasn’t the first time in their brief time together Scarlet had read her thoughts, and honestly, it was a little off-putting. “I was just thinking, do I fit in here? I mean, am I a lesbian? What does it take to qualify as a lesbian? I’ve only ever slept with three women. I’ve slept with more men than I have women, so does that make me still straight? Bisexual? It’s a bit confusing.”
Scarlet smiled at her. “Are you happy?”
Joy smiled. “More than I’ve ever been in my life.” She’d never uttered a truer sentence.
“Then don’t worry about it. It doesn’t matter what you are. I’m happy with you, you’re happy with me. That’s all that matters, isn’t it?” Scarlet’s gaze was loving, warm.
Joy took it all in, before nodding. “I suppose so. It doesn’t matter if I’m a lesbian, as long as I’m a Scarlet-lover?”
Scarlet nodded. “Works for me,” she said. “But just as a test: who’s the best looking person in here?” She paused. “Apart from me, of course.”
Joy swept her gaze around the bar, before settling it back on Scarlet. “You win by a country mile,” she told her. “But if pushed, either the redh
ead woman in the corner, or the blonde at the bar.”
Scarlet grinned at her. “If you’re worried about whether or not you qualify as being a lesbian, I don’t think you need to be.”
Joy grinned widely. “I suppose not.”
Scarlet gave her a kiss before continuing. “Anyway, lesbian, I have some news.”
Joy sat up. “Me, too. You want to go first?”
“Sure,” Scarlet replied, putting her martini down on the table. “Mine is unbelievable: I got the money from Dan — the guy with terminal cancer? It actually hit my bank account this morning. Ten thousand pounds to help with my flat. Can you believe it?”
Joy whistled, shaking her head. “I honestly can’t. That’s so generous.”
“It really is. And Eamonn texted me earlier to say they got their money, too. Dan is paying for them to go on honeymoon, so they can start looking to book now.” Scarlet shook her head. “Plus, he’s giving the flood fund 50 grand and helping the bookshop get back on its feet as well. There was me thinking everyone was out for themselves, but it turns out, I was wrong. Human nature can be very kind, too.”
Joy nodded. “It can.” She put a hand on Scarlet’s knee. “And I’m thrilled for you. If anyone deserves it, you do. And if you don’t think that yet, we might have to book you a couple of hours on my life coach couch till you do.”
“Anything that involves lying down with you, I’m up for.”
Joy smiled. “Wanna hear my news?”
“So long as it’s good — I don’t want any bad news blighting our day.”
“It’s more than good. In fact, you’re going to be thrilled.”
Scarlet leaned back on the couch, never taking her gaze from Joy. “Go on, then.”
“The developers have pulled out of the stadium deal: they decided they can’t take the risk of developing on grounds that are so susceptible to floods. So it looks like Dulshaw FC live to fight another day.”
Scarlet’s face lit up, then she gathered Joy in her arms. “That is incredible!” she said. “When did you hear?”
“There was some talk about it last week in the council, and I got wind of it. But I didn’t want to tell you till it was all confirmed and rubberstamped.” She paused. “That’s not all, though — the council have decided to put a stop on anybody building there for now, so you’re saved for the foreseeable future. So once the stands are back in order, the club can start planning its long-term future.”
Scarlet shook her head, a grin covering her features. “You don’t know what a relief that is. I was wondering if I was going to have to start supporting Milton FC, or worse, Cranbridge.” She shivered. “This is the best news ever.” Scarlet paused. “And just another way the flood has managed to be a positive influence on my life. Who knew that a load of shitty water would lead to such a turnaround? And I wouldn’t have thought so when that police officer knocked on my door at four in the morning.”
“Or when you turned up at my front door looking so forlorn.”
A bashful look crossed Scarlet’s face and Joy narrowed her eyes.
“What’s that look for?”
Scarlet blushed, then shook her head. “It’s nothing.”
Joy lowered her head to one side. “Come on, Williams, out with it.”
Scarlet began to laugh. “It’s just… I never told you, but on the morning of the flood, I wasn’t actually allocated to your house. I just overheard some people talking about it, and the thought of staying in the hall was too much to bear. So I thought I’d blag it, turn up anyway and hope you let me in.” Scarlet grinned. “Worked out okay in the end, all things considered.”
Joy let out a bark of laughter. “So our whole relationship is based on a lie?”
“Looks like it.”
She smiled. “Who said honesty is the best policy? I’d say this is one lie I can live with.” Joy paused. “Before you came along, I was just existing, not living. I was covering up the cracks in my life by running around being mayor and being the best businesswoman I could be. To tell you the truth, I was getting a bit scared about where I’d end up when my mayoral duties ran out. But now, I’m not so worried.”
“I’m glad,” Scarlet replied. “I’d say we’ve both come into each other’s lives at the best possible moment, wouldn’t you?”
“I would,” Joy said, running a hand up and down Scarlet’s thigh, thrilled she could do it in public as well as in the house. In public, it felt that little bit more daring. And when their eyes met, Joy knew Scarlet understood. She just did. It was something about them she’d known from the start. Scarlet and her were on the same wavelength, no explanation needed.
A woman behind them knocking over her glass of wine shook Joy out of her daydream, and she did a double-take, before taking a sip of her rum again and refocusing on Scarlet.
“And talking of Eamonn and Steph — we should invite them over. Our first dinner party as a couple and celebrate with them before they jet off to sunnier climes. What do you think?”
Scarlet gazed at Joy, her eyes filling up. “I’d love that,” she said. “And I’d love to get Clark over, too — repay his hospitality from the other week.”
“We can absolutely do that.”
Scarlet sat up straight as she continued. “And I was also thinking, I might do a fundraiser for the flood fund — get some local celebs to come along and give things away, offer people experiences they can’t buy. Raise a bit more money — what do you think?”
“I think that would be very noble and community-minded of you, but nothing more than I’d expect from you these days. I might start calling you Scarlet AF — After Flood.”
Scarlet frowned. “I hate to tell you, but that’s not very catchy.”
Joy laughed. “You’re not loving my ideas already? Is my allure wearing off?”
Scarlet kissed Joy on the lips. “On the contrary, I’d say I’m falling more and more under your spell every day.”
CHAPTER TWENTY-THREE
Epilogue: Six months later
Nothing prepares you for the shock of losing everything you own — nothing at all. And Scarlet still had nightmares, waking up covered in sweat, but then the relief would wash over her like a cold breeze and she’d collapse back in the bed. And then turn to her girlfriend, her lover, her everything. And then she’d wonder: what had she done to deserve Joy?
Because, while nothing would ever prepare Scarlet for the shock of losing everything, nothing had prepared her for the shock of what her life had become. And since the flood, it’d filled up with love, riches beyond wealth, family, and friends. In fact, all of the things that, if another flood were to arrive that very night, it wouldn’t touch.
She laughed as she dipped her paintbrush into the can to touch up the final wall in the living room, hearing Clark admonishing her for not stirring it properly first. (“Your colours will be all uneven!”) Clark had been there every week after the flood, and had been a huge help getting the flat decorated over the last month, too. The kitchen, bathroom, and bedroom were done, and Clark had finished the hallway this week on his day off — he had a set of keys to her flat now, he’d been there so much.
Thinking about it all, Scarlet knew again one key fact: she’d got lucky. Lucky to have been flooded, lucky to have been a disaster victim, lucky to have had her life washed away, but then so miraculously resurrected. Five streets away, and she might still have been where she was this time last year. But the fates were having none of it, and she couldn’t thank them enough.
Footsteps coming down the stairs startled her from her thoughts, and she looked up to see Eamonn, coffee and cakes fresh from Great Bakes in hand.
“Knock, knock,” he said, stepping into her flat without waiting to be invited. He popped in every day, so an invite wasn’t necessary. “Steph sent me round with these, with instructions to invite you and Joy for dinner on Saturday. Are you free?”
Scarlet nodded. “I think so, but let me check with the boss. Or you might be able to ask her yoursel
f — she’s due any minute.”
“I won’t stick around for that, don’t want to get in the way of you two lovebirds.”
Scarlet gave him a look, resting her brush on the lip of the can. “I think we’re beyond that stage after six months.”
“Not what I witnessed when I came round the other day.” He covered his eyes. “Some things I can never unsee. It’s a good job she’s not the mayor anymore, so I don’t have to see her face in the local paper every week, reminding me.”
Eamonn was referring to two weeks ago, when he’d come round to Joy’s house on Sunday morning to pick up a ladder. Joy hadn’t realised he was in the kitchen with Scarlet, and had walked in naked to tempt Scarlet back to bed. Scarlet wasn’t sure who’d been more embarrassed: Eamonn, Joy, or her. Eamonn had even forgotten the ladder that morning, such was his haste, and had to return two hours later to get it, still red-faced.
“I’ll leave these for you both, I have to get back to work anyway. But I’ll see you tomorrow for the game?”
“You will,” Scarlet replied. “Tell Steph thanks, and I’ll text you on the dinner invite.”
“Will do!” Eamonn shouted from the stairwell.
Five minutes later, more footsteps on the stairs signalled Joy’s arrival, so Scarlet put down her paintbrush and took the lids off the coffee as her girlfriend appeared in the lounge.
Joy whistled when she saw the colour on the wall. “Very daring,” she said, kissing Scarlet, before giving the lounge an appraisal. “I wasn’t sure about the darker colour, but I think it might work.”
“It better, because I really don’t fancy doing this all over again.”
Joy patted Scarlet’s bum. “It’s gonna look great.” Her gaze fell on the goods on the counter. “Has a certain Irishman been visiting again?”
“He has. And when he heard you were turning up, he scarpered sharpish.”
Joy laughed. “Jeez, is me naked that offensive? He’s going to have to get over it. You’d think he’d never seen a naked woman before. I’m sure Steph doesn’t look that much different to me.”
