by Clare Lydon
The next day at work, Kate managed to have a meeting with her publisher and sort out a magazine shoot before her finger clicked onto the Fabulous Flowers website. Once there, she again admired the design and kicked herself for not telling Meg that. She’d planned to, but after Meg revealed herself to be a florist goddess, all rational thought had flown from Kate’s head. Next time.
Kate clicked on the About Us page and saw a photo of Meg and her mum, Olivia, grinning at the camera while holding some expensive-looking flowers. Apparently Olivia had opened the florist over 30 years ago and Meg had joined straight from school, learning the ropes on the job. Now that Olivia was nearing retirement, Meg was taking over the family business. No mention of Meg’s husband working at the business or her children, which kept a faint glimmer of hope alive in Kate’s chest.
However, she quickly brushed it away. Florists are not known for being lesbians. Or was Kate guilty of the sort of stereotyping she would baulk at? After all, it takes all sorts as her mum was constantly pointing out to her. Maureen was still getting over the fact that “that nice BBC newsreader is a lesbian, too”. She always clicked her tongue when she said it.
Kate went back to the main page and opened up Meg’s email outlining the popular funeral packages. She was deep into her task, so didn’t hear Dawn creeping up behind her.
“Who’s the lucky lady?” Dawn leaned on Kate’s desk, as was her habit. She was sucking on a lollipop and slurping like a small child, which didn’t endear her to Kate.
“Nobody — it’s for my uncle’s funeral, remember?”
Dawn looked suitably chastised. “Right, sorry.” She paused. “Is this the place you went to yesterday?”
“Uh-huh.”
“And how are florists in the suburbs these days?”
“They’re okay,” Kate smiled.
Dawn eyed her suspiciously. “That was a devilish smirk from you Ms Carter — what happened at the florist?”
Kate leaned back in her chair and stretched. “Let’s just say, the flowers weren’t the only pretty thing in the shop.”
Dawn’s face lit up, but Kate held up her hand.
“And before you get excited, the florist is not a lesbian. I didn’t pick up one gay vibe from her. She was just a hot florist, that’s all.” Kate shrugged. “Clearly I should just steer clear of florists in future to avoid crushing disappointment.”
“But you are going to see her again?” Dawn’s face was still creased with excitement.
Kate rolled her eyes. “Were you listening to any of the words I just said?” she asked. “But the answer is, probably not. I just need to work out which flowers say ‘happy dying’ more than the others, give her a call and we’re done. And the hot florist can go back to her loving boyfriend who is undoubtedly waiting in the wings. A crying shame, though.”
Dawn patted Kate on the shoulder as she pushed herself up. “Perhaps she could be persuaded, you never know. Or perhaps you should just stick to more lesbian-friendly occupations. Truck drivers, gardeners, that sort of thing.”
Kate ignored her. “Did you want something? Other than to ridicule my life?”
Dawn looked thoughtful, then clicked her fingers together. “Yes — you free at 3pm for a meeting? We need to come up with some good ideas for cover features for the next few issues.”
Kate raised her eyebrows. “Forward planning — I’m impressed. You’re like a Duracell bunny today.”
Dawn winked. “That’s me. I gotta hop to a meeting, but 3pm?”
Kate nodded.
“Excellent. I thought down The Grapes?”
“Oh, one of those meetings…”
***
Dawn had summoned the whole team to the features meeting, which was usual every few months. Even though Kate was responsible for the look and feel of the magazine and Dawn responsible for what went in it, she agreed with Dawn on the fact that everyone should have a say in how the magazine evolved. Dawn was keen on teamwork and brain-storming to get the best possible ideas.
This particular afternoon was a team meeting in a pub, which Dawn liked to do periodically. Both Kate and Dawn knew that this was often where the magic happened, where their eureka moments occurred. Getting people out of their normal environment and into a more relaxed frame of mind was on old-fashioned trick, but one that worked well.
There were seven of them in total, which was still a big team compared to some magazines. They sat with their drinks at a round table, most with tablets or laptops in front of them, Dawn with her pen poised over a crisp, white notepad.
“So, cover features for the next few months. What have you got bubbling, Hannah?” Dawn asked.
Features editor Hannah tapped some keys on her laptop and looked up. She was an ambitious, perky 28 year old who seemed to go through dates at a rate of knots — men and women, Hannah did both. If there had been a week when Hannah hadn’t had a new date, it’d passed Kate by.
Hannah had offered to set Kate up on the dating app of the moment so that Kate could share her love of meeting new people and sleeping with them, but Kate hadn’t been so keen. For one thing, she wasn’t sure the pool of available London lesbians was quite as large as Hannah thought. Plus, Kate had a six year head-start on Hannah, so her pool was dwindling, and she certainly didn’t want their pools to mingle — that would be a step too far. Kate preferred to date the old-fashioned way — see someone in a bar, avoid talking to them, get drunk, end up in bed. It’d worked so far in her life. Up to a point.
Hannah trailed her conker-brown eyes around the group and pushed her glasses up her nose. Hannah always wore glasses when she was being uber-professional. “Right, next month I’ve finally snagged the Olympic gold medalist for the cover — can I have a whoop!?” She got the necessary response before she moved on.
“When’s the interview happening?” Dawn asked, chewing the top of her pen.
“Next week with luck — should hear back from the PR this week,” Hannah replied.
“Great. What else?”
Henry sat up in his chair. “Can I go with you on that?” He blushed slightly as all eyes turned to him.
“Aw, does Henry have a crush on the superstar?” production editor Casey said, twiddling her pen between her thumb and forefinger.
Henry pulled his face into a frown. “No, I just admire her.” Henry paused. “Plus, I think it would be good to send me out on more photoshoots. You said so,” he told Kate.
Kate grinned. “Funny you didn’t fancy going out with that running club last issue, yet an Olympic gold medalist and you’re all over it.”
Henry exhaled. “I’m just trying to be proactive!”
Dawn held up her hand. “Children, please. Speak to Kate and Hannah afterwards, okay?”
Henry nodded, slumped down in his chair and took a swig of his pint.
Hannah checked she had everyone’s attention, then continued. “After that, we’ve got a Christmas food special — how to eat right over the festive period — and I’m setting up interviews with key nutritionists and health experts.”
“Can we get some celebs to talk about what they eat, too?” Kate asked.
Hannah nodded. “I’m working with a couple of PRs on that. Should hopefully have some news at some point soon.”
“Great,” Kate replied. “And if there’s a hot woman among them, we’re fighting for the photoshoot, Henry, got it?”
The whole table laughed.
“After that, we’ve got a New Year fitness special, how to shift those extra pounds, great healthy recipes and a free recipe booklet. Oh, and I forgot to say, we’ve got our calendar coming out next issue too.” Hannah sat back. “I’m also thinking about a lead feature on pregnancy and fitness, and maybe get a pregnant celeb to talk, too.”
“Great.” Dawn took a sip of her white wine and looked around the table. “We’ll talk about possible celeb cover stars another time. Anyone got anything pressing before we start on the sub-features?”
“Actually, I do.” Kat
e sat up in her chair.
Dawn turned to her.
“I know I sound like a stuck record, and honestly, I’m boring myself, but what about a feature on a lesbian running club? Lesbians don’t get enough coverage in a magazine devoted to women, and I think it would be an interesting angle. Plus, you’d snag a bunch more readers by covering it.” Kate sat back and looked around the table, where everyone but Dawn was wearing their positive faces.
Dawn sighed. “We can do a running club of the month feature in our regular section, but you know what Ben thinks about doing a cover feature on lesbian stuff. The advertisers don’t like it; he’s tried it before.”
Now it was Kate’s turn to sigh. “And that was years ago — things have changed, as I keep saying. Lesbians can get married now and lesbian families are everywhere — we need to start doing more positive promotion to make it more normal. And I really don’t think readers would have any objection.”
“I agree with Kate,” Hannah said. “We should have more lesbian coverage in the magazine — famous and otherwise. My mate goes to a running club called Dashing Dykes. Meets in north London — I could ask her?”
Henry spat out his lager. “Dashing Dykes?!”
Hannah reached out and cuffed him round the ear, while five other pairs of eyes challenged him.
Henry shut up swiftly.
Dawn drummed her fingers on the table. “Like I said, I would, but Ben doesn’t like it.” She turned to Kate. “But let me talk to him again — we haven’t brought it up in a while. I agree with you, but we’ve got to think about the advertisers and what they want too. It’s the way of the world, I’m afraid.”
“The world is stupid,” Hannah said. “We’re women too, you know.” She drank her bottle of Heineken and raised an eyebrow at Dawn.
Dawn held up both hands, then sat up straighter in her chair. “Look, I’m on your side. I just need to clear it with the powers that be, okay? But like you say, things have moved on. Let’s hope publishing has too.” Dawn stood up and looked around the table. “Now everyone can have a bitch about me while I go to the loo, then we can go for round two.”
8
Meg was just packing up at the florist after a particularly busy Wednesday — even after a lifetime in the business, customer habits still sometimes caught her off-guard. What started off as a run-of-the-mill day had quickly mushroomed into an all-out decimation of stock. An early morning dash to the flower market was needed tomorrow, which meant an equally early night. Still, she wasn’t complaining.
She was out the back of the shop when she heard a rat-a-tat-tat on the front door. She poked her head out, just about to tell whoever it was that she wasn’t open, but then she spotted her brother, Jamie. Who, like her, was also gay. There had never been a nature/nurture debate in her family.
Meg cracked a smile as she sauntered across the shop and unlocked the door. Her brother greeted her with a hug and a kiss, his newly grown designer stubble alien against her chin.
“I don’t know how women put up with this.” Meg pinched Jamie’s cheek.
“I don’t either, but the men love it.” Jamie followed Meg into the shop and leaned against the counter as she went out back.
“What are you here for, anyway?” Meg shouted, before reappearing with her black tote bag. “If you wanted Mum, she left about an hour ago. And I’m just off.”
“And that’s the welcome I get? I hope you’re nicer to your other customers.”
“They’re normally buying something, so of course I’m nice to them.”
While Meg and Olivia were tall and blonde, Jamie was tall and ginger — just as their maternal grandfather had been. Meg had always loved Jamie’s hair, a rich, deep copper colour. Jamie ran his own property developing business and, bucking perceived gay stereotypes, was also the handiest man Meg knew. In a DIY emergency, Jamie was her first port of call.
“So, by process of elimination — you’re here to see me?” Meg flexed her neck as she asked.
Jamie nodded. “I was in the area sizing up a property for a client, so wondered if you fancied a drink, or can I tempt you for dinner? My treat, because if this property comes off, I’m going to be a happy and rich man. For at least two months.”
Meg put her hand on her hip and smiled at her brother. “When you put it like that, how can a girl resist?”
***
Half an hour later they were sitting in the Chinese restaurant down the road, crunching on prawn crackers and sipping bottles of Tsingtao.
“So tell me again. A woman comes in wanting flowers for her dead uncle’s funeral and you want to jump her bones?” Jamie grinned broadly.
“You make me sound awful — ‘jumping her bones’ isn’t exactly how I’d describe it.” Meg took a sip of her beer.
Jamie smirked. “No? Then how would you describe it?”
Meg thought about it for a moment. “I’d like to get to know her better, she seemed really lovely.”
“And then jump her bones?”
Meg grinned. “Yeah, pretty much.”
“And she’s gay?”
Meg nodded. “I’d bet my house on it.”
“And she’s coming back in again?”
Meg nodded again.
“So what’s the problem? Ask her out.”
Meg rolled her eyes. “That might be the protocol in gayman world, but in lesbo-land we have to feel out the terrain, make sure there are no obstacles.”
Jamie ran his hand over his stubble. “Like an assault course?” He didn’t sound convinced.
“Obstacles as in girlfriends. And in my experience, where this sort of woman is concerned, there normally is.”
“This sort of woman?”
“Stylish, good-looking, funny, smart. Probably also married with a baby.” Meg paused. “It’s still weird that we can get legally married now, isn’t it? Weird in a good way.”
“A very good way,” Jamie said. “But back to the matter in hand — here’s another thought. Possibly, just possibly, she might not be married. Have you thought about that?”
Meg sighed. “I know — but if that’s true it’s also too scary to contemplate. Because then I’d have to do something.” Meg cupped her chin in her hand, elbows on the table. “So I’m sticking with my story and taking the path of least embarrassment.”
Jamie laughed as the food arrived and was set down in front of them. “That’s exactly the spirit that will get you laid after your year-long slump.”
“Year and a half.” Meg scooped some chicken and black bean sauce onto her plate, sat alongside her rice. “Remember, me and Tanya didn’t have any sex for the final six months. We just slept on the outskirts of the bed and avoided each other as much as we could.”
“Glad to see your life’s moved on so dramatically, then.” Jamie munched on a mouthful of noodles as he raised his eyebrows at Meg.
“Now you put it like that.”
They were silent for a few seconds, both pouncing on the food after a hard day at work.
“How’s Mum, anyway?”
“Fine. Loads better. Check-ups all came back okay and she’s easing back into work.” Meg paused. “That is to say, she’s doing far too much still, but less than I anticipated she might, so that’s good.”
“Make sure she doesn’t do too much.”
“I’m trying.” Meg shrugged. “But you know what she’s like.”
“I do.” Jamie pursed his lips. “The type to run around till she’s blue in the face and then have a minor heart attack.” He shook his head. “Is she any closer to getting help with the deliveries?”
Jamie had been helping out at the florist with deliveries since their mum’s heart attack, and was still doing so at the weekends. He’d been a massive help and Meg didn’t know what they’d have done without him.
“I think she had a friend whose son was interested, but I’ll follow up with her, promise.”
“Cool. Only if this deal takes off, I might need my weekends back to work on that.”
“I get it,” Meg said. “I’ll speak to her. You still okay for this month?”
“Course — me and Greg.” Jamie paused. “I have something else to tell you.” He winced as he spoke.
“Sounds ominous.”
“Dad’s been in touch.”
Meg stopped chewing and put down her cutlery. “He’s being persistent, isn’t he? That’s twice in a few months.” She sighed. “What should we do?”
Jamie shrugged. “I don’t know. Part of me wants to tell him to piss off. But then part of me wants to meet him, to see what he has to say. But with Mum how she is, I don’t want to upset her.”
Meg shook her head. “Mum has to be our priority. It’s too soon after everything for unnecessary stress for her. So just tell him now’s not a good time. Can you do that?”
Jamie nodded slowly. “It seems a bit mean, though. He really does want to be in our lives for good this time. He sounds like he’s changed.”
Meg furrowed her brow. “You always were the softer one. He’s been out of our lives for this long, he can wait a bit longer. Agreed?”
“Agreed.” Jamie pushed some food around his plate. “It’s just, none of us are getting any younger, are we? Mum’s heart attack put that into clear perspective.”
“I know. But he can wait — he’s made us wait a lifetime.” Meg’s tone held steely finality. “Anyway, let’s change the subject — how are Greg and Jupiter?”
Greg was Jamie’s boyfriend and they’d been living together for two years. Jupiter was their cat, and every time Meg went round there, she swore she wanted to come back as Jupiter. A more spoilt and loved animal she had yet to meet.
A slow smile spread across Jamie’s face as Meg knew it would. It always did when he spoke about Greg — and that was exactly what Meg wanted. Someone who made her light up just like Jamie was doing right now.
9
The next morning, Kate knew she could postpone it no longer. Once she’d made it to work and sorted through her morning emails, she snuck off into one of the smaller meeting rooms in the office and closed the door quietly. She plugged her laptop into the network, called up the Fabulous Flowers website, took a deep breath and dialled their number. Her knee jigged up and down under the table and her blood began to tumble around her body, as if competing in some amateur gymnastic event.
