by Clare Lydon
Tanya swung around onto the wide grey path that ran along the Thames, the Woolwich ferry behind her, the rows of new flats lined up to her right, shivering in the evening wind. At her feet, Delilah trotted along obediently, and that at least made Tanya smile. No matter what was going on in her life, she was beginning to see how dogs kept you grounded, gave you some perspective. She was grateful to Delilah for that.
Her thoughts were broken by a growling nearby, followed by a yelp from Delilah. Tanya’s features froze as she looked down, to see a grey-and-white dog named Barney baring its teeth at Delilah. She’d asked the owner its breed before, but the owner hadn’t been sure — only to say that somewhere along the line, a German shepherd had been involved.
Tanya pulled Delilah’s lead and she jumped right, as Barney followed.
Fear bubbled up and lodged itself in Tanya’s throat. This was one aspect of dog owning she was yet to get used to: dealing with other dogs and their owners. She bent down to pick Delilah up, just as Barney growled again.
Tanya straightened up and gave his owner a stern glare. “Hey,” Tanya said, addressing the woman. “You need to keep a tighter hold of your dog — it’s not the first time he’s come for Delilah.”
In response, she got a perky smile from the woman, who was wearing tailored jeans and a blazer, along with a my-dog-is-an-angel attitude.
“Barney wouldn’t do that. Look at him, the face of an angel.” The woman was showing her full set of teeth, just like her dog. “He’s just being friendly, aren’t you, Barney?”
As if to prove just how friendly he was, Barney bared his teeth and growled again, reminding Tanya of the creatures from Gremlins when they’d been fed after midnight. “Delilah’s got enough friends, thanks, so just watch your dog.”
The woman rolled her eyes at Tanya, bent down to pet Barney and dragged him away, much to Barney’s disgust.
Tanya waited until they were well ahead before she put Delilah down. So much for the therapeutic power of walking.
A podcast — maybe that could brighten her mood. She rooted in her bag for her phone, then walked a few paces slower, head down, scrolling through her podcast menu. Tanya rounded a corner heading towards the local park, not looking up, and walked smack into another person.
“For fuck’s sake,” Tanya muttered, “watch where you’re going.” It was only when she looked up she saw the other person was Sophie, with Branston at her feet. Tanya closed her eyes: she was being rude again, wasn’t she?
“You want to try that again?” Sophie said, narrowing her eyes. “Only, I’d say you walked into me, not the other way around.”
Tanya’s breathing stalled as she focused on Sophie’s stunning eyes and full lips — lips she’d kissed only hours ago. But now, crossing the few inches and doing so would seem like madness. She knew she should have texted her today, to follow up their night and sort Delilah, but the hours had just slipped by. And now, here they were, having an altercation on a pavement.
Tanya shook her head in apology, but that only seemed to anger Sophie more. “I didn’t see it was you,” Tanya said. That hadn’t come out right. “I’m sorry, I’m just having a terrible day, like you wouldn’t believe.”
But as soon as she said it, she knew it was the wrong thing.
“You’re having a terrible day?” Sophie said, her tone disbelieving. “Thanks very much. Your day started with me in your bed, or have you forgotten that bit? You seemed to have this morning.” Sophie shook her head, sighing. “I’ve been giving you the benefit of the doubt for quite a while now, but do you deserve it?”
Tanya opened her mouth to speak, but nothing came out. Her mind was turning cartwheels of all the possible things she could say, but it couldn’t settle on one answer. It just seemed to go round and round like the worst Waltzer ride in the world.
“Seeing as you seem mute, let me fill in the gaps,” Sophie continued, pushing her shoulders back, her chest out. Like she was preparing for battle. “I expected more from you, after everything. And maybe I was naive, but I did,” she said. “I thought we had something, especially after last night. And then you just brush me off this morning, and I let you because you’re going through a lot, I know that.
“But I need something from you, Tanya. I’m putting my heart on the line here, and I just need you to say you are, too, and that you want me in your life. Because you’re blowing hot and cold and I’m not sure how long I can take this.” Sophie stopped, her gaze gripping Tanya, hands on her hips.
She’d never looked more brave, decisive or sexy, but Tanya’s mouth was dry, her mind blank. But she had to say something, she owed it to Sophie.
Tanya looked up and saw such hurt in Sophie’s eyes, and she was responsible. That killed her. She cleared her throat and stood up taller. “We do have something, we really do. And I know I’m in the wrong here, but you just have to give me some time to work out my shit. And it is my shit, I know that. But please don’t throw in the towel, I couldn’t take it.”
Was that enough? Tanya had no idea, but right now, it was all she could give. She had to slay the demons of her home town first, before she could fully embrace a girl called London.
Sophie shook her head gently, letting out a sigh. “I can’t just walk away when I’m already involved, can I?”
She sounded so defeated, Tanya wanted to take her in her arms — but she was frozen to the spot.
“If you’d just let me help you, maybe we could work it out together.” She paused. “But make up your mind soon, because I won’t wait around forever.”
“I know,” Tanya replied.
And she did.
She had to get home and call Alan.
Chapter Forty-One
Sophie pulled back her right fist, then let fly, her gloved punch hitting the pad plumb centre.
Behind it, Rachel stood firm, bouncing on the balls of her feet.
Sophie took aim at the right pad and slammed her left fist into it with a satisfying thud. On nights like tonight, she loved boxing. She could punch these pads forever.
“I mean, who the fuck does she think she is?” Sophie asked, pounding her right fist into the pad again.
Rachel smiled at her friend, arms up. “I should send Tanya my bill at the end of this if my wrists have stress injuries.”
“You should,” Sophie replied, slamming her left fist down, shrieking as she did. There were only two other people in the gym at the bottom of their building, but neither of them looked up. Boxing and shrieking were happy bedfellows.
“I mean, we have a night of fantastic sex — off-the-charts great — and then she acts like she does today. Aloof.” Punch. “Incommunicative.” Punch. “Fucking rude, frankly.” Slam.
Rachel took it all in her stride. “Fantastic sex. I remember that, in the dim, distant past,” she replied. “And then this morning she just threw you out?”
Sophie put her gloves down for a moment, picking up her water bottle. This was thirsty work. “More or less,” she replied. “I mean, she wasn’t exactly rolling out the red carpet.”
“Sounds worryingly familiar,” Rachel said. “You wanna swap over?”
Sophie nodded. “Sure,” she said, taking off her red gloves and putting on the blue boxing pads. Now it was Rachel’s turn to get out her frustration.
“I swear, though, she was there with me, every step of the way last night. It wasn’t just a solo show, and she wasn’t faking it.” Sophie paused. “I know faking when I see it, believe me.”
“You do?”
Sophie nodded. “I’ve done it enough times.”
“You have?”
“Will you stop answering questions with questions.”
“I can’t help it.” Rachel paused, before throwing her first punch.
Sophie absorbed it, springing to life to take the next one.
“So she wasn’t faking it, but this morning she wasn’t so keen.”
Sophie nodded. “Correct.” Punch. “And then she just ran into me a few ho
urs ago — swearing at me when it was her fault by the way. She’s so infuriating.” Punch, shimmy. “I mean, she’s good-looking, she’s funny and don’t get me started on the sex.”
Rachel threw another punch, rolling her eyes. “Don’t worry, I won’t,” she replied.
Sophie smiled. “Yet she’s also crippled by her past, and seems to think she’s the only person to ever deal with that. I mean, haven’t we all at some point?” Punch. “Apart from you with your chocolate-box family,” she said, smiling at Rachel.
Rachel gave her an extra-hard punch for that. “Leave my parents out of this. I can’t take the blame for their happy marriage, so don’t make me.”
That made Sophie laugh for the first time today. “Oh, I dunno — I just want a straightforward woman. Is that so hard to find?”
Rachel snorted at that, throwing a one-two combo. “If you meet her, can you see if she’s got a twin sister, please?”
Sophie snorted some more. “I know, I know.” She paused, putting the pads down and getting more water. “She’s going through a lot, I know that. Her gran meant the world to her.” She paused. “But we’d just had the best sex ever.”
Rachel laughed again. “So what it comes down to is your ego is a little bruised,” she said, before sucking on her water bottle and catching her breath. “I’d say, cut her some slack, then go and talk to her. She seemed sane and reasonable, unlike the normal ones you usually go out with.”
“She is a bit rude at times. This afternoon reminded me of that — like her problems are the biggest.” Sophie bit her top lip. “My worry is I’m falling for the wrong woman.” She sighed. “I didn’t think I was, but maybe my gauge is all out of whack. And I didn’t like her attitude today; it reminded me of when we met.”
Rachel put up her gloves and Sophie did the same with her pads. They were silent for a few moments as they practised their one-two-jab routine, ten times, as instructed by Alice’s boyfriend, Jake. Once done, they swapped over again, both out of breath.
“And did you just say you were falling for her?” Rachel asked, one eyebrow hoisted high on her forehead.
Sophie gave a defeated sigh. “You knew that already — you knew before I did. I just wish Tanya could see it and throw me a bone.”
Rachel put up her pads and they worked through their routine, this time with Sophie doing the punching.
“Imagine that’s her head if that makes you feel better,” Rachel said from behind the pads.
Sophie stopped punching when she said that. “I don’t want to punch her in the head,” she said, throwing off her gloves and sighing. “I just want to put my arms around her and tell her everything’s going to be okay.”
“Despite her bad manners?” Rachel said, as they both slumped down to the floor, their backs against the mercifully cold gym wall.
“Yep, despite that,” Sophie said.
“You have got it bad.”
“I know.”
Rachel nudged her then, grinning as she took another slug of water. “And is it like I said? Is she all you’re thinking about?”
“Every hour of every day.”
“Poor you,” Rachel replied.
“I spoke to my dad earlier, and even he had a successful date this weekend. This has to go well, otherwise I’m the only single London in town. And my work’s suffering, too — I’ve been walking dogs off pavements and dropping poo bags all day, and it’s all her fault.”
Rachel took a deep breath in before she replied. “I wouldn’t worry, I think your love jar has happiness written on the label. I had a vision that you and Tanya would be together, and they don’t call me Mystic Rachel for nothing.”
Sophie laughed for the second time that day. “Who calls you Mystic Rachel?”
“Well, I do now,” Rachel said with a grin.
Sophie’s phone rattled with activity. She picked it up and saw two texts: one from Helen and one from Tanya. Sophie’s emotions reacted in precise opposition, causing her to sit up straight, then slump in confusion.
“You okay?” Rachel asked.
Sophie shook her head. She held her breath, clicking on the text from Helen: she snorted as she scanned it. Then she quickly read the text from Tanya, feeling guilty she hadn’t done that first.
That one put a smile on her face.
“Would you believe, I just got two texts, one from Tanya and one from Helen?”
Rachel rubbed her hands together. “Sounds juicy.”
“Helen’s just sent me a text asking for a booty call — she’s split up with her girlfriend and wants to know if I’m free.” Sophie shook her head. “Honestly, the cheek.”
Rachel raised an eyebrow. “Well you did run every time she clicked her fingers for three months. You can’t blame her for trying.”
Sophie ignored that comment. “Whereas the text from Tanya is asking if I can call in on Delilah tomorrow and walk her.”
“So she is still in contact.”
“About the dog,” Sophie replied.
“Nothing about you and last night?”
“She’s put one kiss at the end.”
“A kiss is good!” Rachel said, wiping her brow. “Now you have to follow that up and talk to her, get this straightened out, okay? Do it for me, because my wrists can’t take another session like this.”
Chapter Forty-Two
Two days later, Tanya had just got back from Delilah’s evening walk when her phone rang. It was Alan.
“Hey,” he said, his voice calming as always. “Just returning your calls, sorry it’s taken so long. How are you? How’s Delilah?”
“She’s fine, only weeing occasionally indoors now.”
Alan chuckled. “The perils of being a parent.” He paused. “And you?”
“I’m fine,” she lied, her voice flat. “I’ve tried you the last two nights — where have you been? I was getting worried.”
“I’ve been at choir rehearsals,” he replied. “We’ve got a show this weekend.”
That took Tanya back to Alan’s house, to his Gay Men’s Chorus T-shirt — and she realised they still hadn’t had the conversation. The one about Alan being gay.
Tanya paused. “About that,” she began, then stuttered. Yes, she was gay, but she was still shy about asking this question. Still, it was a distraction from what she really needed to talk about, wasn’t it?
“About what?” he asked, clearing his throat. “My choir?”
Tanya took a deep breath, her heart pounding in her chest. “Partly,” she said. “And also about Uncle Rod.”
“What about him?” Alan asked, his voice quieter now, more subdued.
Tanya continued. “There’s no easy way of asking this.” Pause. “Were you together?” Her cheeks burned as she said it. If she was wrong, she was stupid; but if she was right, she was a fool.
On the other end of the line, she swore she heard Alan smile. “Of course we were,” he said. “For 12 glorious years, darling Rod. I still miss him every day, too.” He cleared his throat. “First Rod, now Celia.”
A tidal wave of emotions rushed through her when she heard the truth: relief, pride, embarrassment, sadness. Rod had been the love of Alan’s life, but now he was gone — and Tanya had never even realised.
“And your choir is the Gay Men’s Chorus?” she asked, feeling lightheaded with relief.
“It is — you should come and see us sometime.”
“I will,” Tanya said, shaking her head. “Why did you never tell me?” Pause. “And why did I never know? I feel like such an idiot. Here’s you supporting my life, when I was no comfort to you when yours fell apart.” She paused, running through all the times Alan and Rod had been there for her. “I’m so sorry he’s gone — I loved Rod, too.”
“And he loved you,” Alan replied. “And why would I tell you? If you’d ever asked, I would, I wasn’t ashamed. But you were young, and your mum preferred to ignore it. If she acknowledged it, she wouldn’t have been able to be my friend, and she needed me — she knew t
hat.”
“So mum knew?” Tanya couldn’t help her voice turning up at the end. How could her mum have known Alan was gay, yet still have been his friend? She couldn’t quite wrap her head around that. Or perhaps it was okay for her friends, but not for her flesh and blood?
“I assume so, how could she not? Rod and I were together for 12 years. We watched you and Jonathan grow up, we never hid it. I mean, we didn’t kiss each other in front of people, because nobody does that in Sturby. You keep yourself to yourself, and we knew things would be hard if we didn’t.” He paused. “It was a different time then, the expectations were different. Although, if he were alive today, I don’t think we’d do much different now.”
Tanya still couldn’t quite get her head around this revelation. “One thing, though: how did I never know? And why didn’t you give me a clip round the ear and let me know?” She laughed at her last comment. But really, how dumb and self-absorbed had she been?
“Jonathan asked me once, and I told him.”
“Jonathan?” Now she was really shamed. Her brother knew and she didn’t?
Alan nodded. “He asked me a few years ago when he came back to visit your parents. He didn’t stay long, like always.” Alan paused. “But the thing was, Rod died when you were 15. You didn’t ask, and I didn’t tell. We all lost him, we all mourned.”
“But he was your partner,” Tanya replied.
“And these things happen.”
Did such stoicism come with age, or was that just Alan’s way? Tanya would love to know.
“Did he die of cancer, like you said?” Tanya held her breath, waiting for the answer.
There was a beat before Alan answered. “No, it was AIDS.”
She shuddered at the words she hadn’t wanted to hear, before fear wrapped her in its tight embrace. “And you — are you okay?” She couldn’t take Alan dying, too.
Alan laughed at that. “Don’t worry, I’m not going to drop dead any minute,” he said, blowing his nose. Was he crying? If Tanya had made him cry, she felt doubly bad.
