by Clare Ashton
“I told you,” she said weakly. “I need to find Abby.”
“It always fucking Abby,” he shouted. “It’s always your bloody friend.”
Jude was too stunned to respond.
“Abby’s always your priority. She has been for years. When is it going to be me? What about us?”
“It will be, but not now, please. I need to find her. Her attacks. She could–”
“We can’t put our lives on hold every fucking time Abby’s upset.”
“It’s not like that.” Jude shook her head, wishing the swirling chaos would stop. “Don’t trivialise it.”
“But do you need to be the one on call the whole time?”
“This time,” she murmured. “I do.”
“Why?”
Because this time, it might be her fault.
“I’m going to find her,” Jude said and she stumbled towards the house.
She swam through the crowd, people laughing and congratulating Eli, children running everywhere.
Jude could see her friend in the light of the hallway. Abby’s face was pink and swollen and light glistened on a trail of tears. For a moment she seemed to look at Jude, but instead of waiting she sought her coat from the hooks and hurried outside.
Abby was running away, and running away from her. Eli was telling the truth.
By the time Jude emerged from the crowd, Abby was down the front steps and scuttling into the night. Jude watched her in the glow of the streetlight, wiping at her face, then she disappeared beyond the orange halo into the dark.
For the first time in her life, Jude didn’t run to Abby. There was nothing she could do, because she was the cause of Abby’s pain. She stared into the night, Abby long gone, but her image vivid in Jude’s thoughts, until Bill pushed past.
“I’m staying at the hotel,” he growled and stormed down the steps.
His great show of leaving was weakened when he turned round, desperation flickering across his face. When Jude said nothing, his expression turned dark.
“That was fucking unbelievable, Jude. We should take a break.”
He marched off, drunk and ego bruised, turning back twice to check on Jude still immobile on the door step.
And when the guests had gone, Jude took a sofa in her parents’ sitting room and she sat in darkness and turmoil. A weekend later and the same issues still endlessly occupied Jude’s thoughts.
When the hell did it start? Why hadn’t Abby told her? What would have been the point, she reminded herself. Jude had never been partial to women, and she’d barely been single while she’d known Abby.
How had Abby hidden it for so long? Didn’t it hurt to be close to the one you loved but could never have? And Jude had no doubt about the depth of Abby’s love. She’d seen it crush her friend when Bill proposed.
Perhaps Jude should walk away. She paced the bedroom at the thought. It wasn’t fair to torment Abby and tease her with friendship when Abby wanted more. Maybe this was the kindest cut. And just when Jude decided this was the painful but noble course of action she realised she couldn’t walk away. Abby needed her. Her friend still suffered panic attacks.
“What the hell am I going to do?” Jude whispered and she slumped back onto the bed.
A creeping realisation dawned. What if Jude had encouraged her? Had she unintentionally toyed with her friend all these years – their closest of friendships, virtually living with her at the weekends?
“Shit,” Jude groaned, head in hands.
But Abby always had a date. There was always someone after her. How was Jude to know? Although lately Abby cancelled dates at the drop of Jude’s hat. Jude had taken it as a sign of maturity – neither of them held hostage by teenage hormones or ego. What if it had been because Abby loved Jude more?
Did they flirt with each other? A little. A joke here and there, but nothing out of the ordinary. Abby’s girlfriends had been much more risqué.
Had Jude ever found her attractive and let it show? Abby was without question pretty. She had beautiful eyes, cat-like and sparkling through her long fringe which she flicked to the side. Then those lips, full and wide that shone in a generous smile, the one that showed her love right up to her piercing eyes that fixed you with their deep regard. You were left in no doubt of the good soul inside when her friend smiled.
“How long?” Jude murmured.
Jude couldn’t remember the first time she saw Abby, only that she was aware of the beautiful lesbian in halls who kindled many a woman’s Sapphic fire. She did remember her first words. Abby had run into the changing rooms at the gym when Jude was putting on her sports bra. Abby had screeched to a halt, looked her up and down then coloured, realising what she’d done. Abby had flashed a naughty grin. “Nice tits,” she’d said, then flounced out of the room.
Jude laughed despite herself. Typical Abby, bringing a smile to Jude’s face even now in a memory. Then Jude realised Bill had nothing like that effect on her. He never had. In fact since he’d walked out throwing the words “We should take a break,” at her, he’d barely entered her thoughts.
Oh fucking hell, Abby. Why did she have to fall in love with her? How were they meant to be friends without Jude hurting Abby every single day? Did every touch make Abby long for her? Did every hug trigger a painful craving? They couldn’t carry on like that. Then the prospect of losing her dearest friend came crashing down again.
“I don’t want to lose you,” Jude murmured.
There was a gentle knock at the door.
“It’s Abby,” came the quiet voice from the other side.
Jude’s heart leapt into her mouth, and she couldn’t answer for a few moments. She cleared her throat and stood. “Come in.”
The door opened slowly with its characteristic creak and Abby shuffled into the room. She wore such a mix of expressions on her face, she was always so open and easy to read. Hurt, for herself and perhaps Jude, with anxiety pinching at her forehead. And Jude could see it now, mixed in with the kind of deep love Jude shared, there was a longing also. Jude was torn between rushing to comfort her friend and sparing her with distance.
Abby remained tense by the door and Jude turned back to her garden view, wringing entwined fingers.
“I’m sorry,” Abby murmured. “I’ve only just heard about Bill.”
Jude bowed her head. There was silence.
“I,” Abby hesitated. “I would have come sooner.”
Jude knew she would. That was part of the problem. Abby came running whenever Jude needed. The silence descended again.
“I can stay if you like,” Abby offered, her voice soft. “Or leave if you prefer.”
Jude’s heart plunged. What must Abby be going through, but still here she was, supporting Jude. At the same time Jude wanted to yell: “Why the fuck did you fall in love with me? You’re taking away the best thing in my life, my best friend.”
And Jude ached for her. She gulped down the lump in her throat. She wanted to turn back time to Friday evening and everything be the same again.
“I miss you,” Jude wanted to say. “I want to hug you, take the piss out of you for not asking out Cheese Shop Lady, put silly braids in your hair and drink too much wine while watching a shitty film and fall asleep on the sofa with your head on my shoulder. I want it all back.” How were they meant to do that now?
She heard Abby approach then whisper, “I’m so sorry things aren’t good with Bill. I know it must be tearing you apart.”
If only it was that.
“But I’m glad you’re here today,” Abby hesitated. “Because, if you marry Bill, I will miss you.” And Abby’s warm fingers slid between Jude’s.
Whether it was her friend’s honesty or the familiar touch she’d been craving, Jude’s resistance collapsed and she spun round and clasped Abby to her. She clung on for dear life, pinching the folds of Abby’s clothes and squeezing with fierce need as the tears started to fall.
“It’s OK”, Abby whispered beside her ear. “It’s OK”
�
�I missed you. I missed you. I missed you.”
“Me too.”
Jude pulled her closer still, chest to chest, and she could feel Abby’s heart beat beneath hers.
Chapter 13.
She was back. Her Jude was back. Abby felt the pain of Jude’s heartbreak over Bill, but it was an overpowering relief to have her soulmate back.
“God, I missed you too.” Abby had been ready to miss Jude for the rest of her life.
Jude’s arm wrapped around Abby’s waist, another cradled her head. Soft lips pressed against Abby’s forehead and fingers stroked her hair.
“I’m sorry,” Jude whispered beside her ear.
Abby assumed for not letting her know sooner. She closed her eyes, enjoying Jude close again and the soothing fingers through her hair.
“There’s nothing to be sorry for.”
As Jude stroked her hair, Abby let her head drop to her friend’s shoulder, tired after the weekend of heartache and loneliness. She was dazed in the warmth of Jude’s embrace and the scent which rose from her chest.
“I’m so sorry.”
Abby pulled them tighter, her breasts snug against Jude’s and their legs entwined, thigh slipping between thigh. Jude returned the embrace, urgent like lovers reconciling after an argument, desperate and relieved at the same time. The close warmth was addictive and Abby pulled at Jude, longing for the intimacy she’d craved.
“I missed you.”
Jude’s robe slipped a little and Abby’s cheek touched bare skin. Her friend’s tender naked body was another slip away. Abby’s nipples tingled with the awareness and she ached where Jude held her. A brush inside her thighs as Jude shifted her weight ignited a glow of arousal inside and her breath deepened, no longer with anguish but a kindling of desire. The warmth of reconciliation intensified the heat.
Yikes. What was she doing? Abby stepped back abruptly.
“So.” She cleared her throat and squeezed Jude’s arms. “Um.”
This was so not appropriate. Really not on. Unseemly arousal when comforting your best friend who’s just broken up with her boyfriend, definitely not in the friendship handbook. Abby took a deep breath, slapped hands on hips and resolutely stared at the wardrobe.
“So. Erm. Tea?”
That was good. Very proper. Best way to care for anyone. Tea.
When Jude didn’t answer Abby was forced to turn round. Jude had a bemused expression on her face which flickered between melancholy and amusement.
“Shall I get us a cuppa?” Abby offered again, hopeful. “Nice cuppa tea?” She stared, cheeks burning, and elsewhere glowing.
“I would like one very much,” Jude said quietly. “I’ll get dressed and come down.”
“Great,” Abby said. So very proper. “Nice cuppa tea.”
And she hurtled down the stairs like a truant child.
“Tea. Tea. Where’s the shitting tea?”
Abby had made the drink a thousand times in this kitchen, but with the arousal quivering inside she was buggered if she knew where it was now. Abby needed something to distract her, because this was a wildly inappropriate time to be having those feelings between her legs. Frankly, she could do with popping an ice-cube down her knickers before she went near Jude again.
Especially when Jude was naked beneath her dressing gown. Because really, there was nothing Abby liked better than a robe falling away to nudity with a slip of a finger. Especially off Jude. Oh Jude. Oh, a slip of a finger.
“Oh Jesus,” Abby cursed out loud. “Get a grip. You’re a terrible friend.”
But she’d missed her. She was in love with her. And frankly she couldn’t think of a more attractive woman on this earth. It was only human to feel liquid warmth when someone that beautiful pulled you close, their naked breasts cushioning your chest, their wondrous thighs slipping in between yours. Abby groaned.
“You are a terrible, terrible friend.”
Tea. Tea. Where was the tea? She flung cupboards open and banged them shut. Why couldn’t she locate a simple beverage? It didn’t happen often that Abby became so overwhelmed. She genuinely felt a platonic love for Jude when cuddled on the sofa. It’s just sometimes Abby did slip.
Like that time on holiday in Greece. Jude was resplendent, gazing out to sea from the balcony. The setting sun shone through her diaphanous white dress, her perfect breasts in silhouette and voluptuous thighs a finger width apart. Abby had stared transfixed, agog at Jude’s beauty. She was like a Greek goddess of ample bosom and full hip. “It’s beautiful, isn’t it?” Jude had said glancing back at Abby. “You look in awe.” Abby had choked on her ouzo, joined her friend on the balcony and tried not to think of divine thighs and that tempting fingers width between them. She’d failed of course, like she did now as her friend came into the kitchen, soft thighs no doubt stroking beautifully together.
“Have you lost the tea?” Jude smiled.
Abby had lost the entire plot. This was bad. One, Jude was getting over her long-term boyfriend. Two, Abby had rules about this. And they were, another list. She liked lists.
One, no lusting after Jude. Appreciating beauty was one thing, staring at breasts and imagining them next to hers another. And she wished she hadn’t thought about that as a wave of appreciation throbbed inside her.
Two, if she failed with One, there was absolutely no imagining Jude during those private moments, you know, she could barely think of the phrase, when she touched herself.
Three, and definitely no imagining Jude doing that either, at any time, ever.
And this was the trouble with listing everything she wasn’t allowed to imagine – she, of course, immediately imagined it all. And in this condition that was fatal.
Jude stood close in the snug kitchen. Abby could feel her. The warmth was as good as a caress. If they’d been lovers, they’d be having red-hot make-up sex on the floor.
“Tea.” Abby groaned. “I really need to find tea.”
“Hello dears.” Maggie sauntered into the kitchen with shopping bags.
The last thing Abby needed was another witness to her state. Abby looked at her hands and fiddled with her nails, which were perfectly trimmed and had no reason to be fiddled with whatsoever.
“Um. Um.” Abby attempted some vocal variety. “Erm.”
“Abby was looking for the tea,” Jude said, moving further into the kitchen to make room for Maggie. She leant against the kitchen top snuggled next to Abby, a quizzical look in her eyes. The warmth was intoxicating. Abby was pummelled by her breast and hugged by the side of her bottom. It was heavenly.
“Mmmmmm,” Abby moaned. Oh no. “Mmm. Jude’s right?”
“Tea?” Maggie said. “Eli drank it all again. If he must drink it by the bucket, he really should stock up again. Here.” She passed over a yellow box. “There was some in the shopping.”
So, they hadn’t had tea. Well that was an evil little trick for the universe to play. No, Abby didn’t look aroused to distraction, clattering her way red-faced through the cupboards. Oh no.
“Well,” said Maggie. “You both seem better. I thought you were looking a bit peaky earlier, Abby.”
“Really?” Abby replied several notes too high.
Dammit. Why did her every feeling have to be apparent. “I can read you like a book,” almost everyone had said to her at some point. Well hopefully not this particular book. Not this X-rated chapter at least. Because Jude must never know of Abby’s feelings on this particular topic. Ever.
And even more catastrophic would be Maggie knowing. One thing was certain with Maggie. She did not approve of lesbian relationships. Although she’d never shown Abby the slightest ill will – quite the opposite – it was an infuriating constant: Maggie’s inability to see lesbian relationships as an option for Abby, let alone anyone else. God knows how she’d judge Abby’s penchant for her daughter.
“In fact, you’re looking radiant Abby,” Maggie said, drawing her head back. “How are you feeling?”
Ashamed had to be the m
ost honest answer, as the mix of arousal, embarrassment and a chill of humiliation did an unholy dance within. Jude shifted closer to let Maggie put down her bags and Abby was overwhelmed by the warm glow.
“Nice,” she mumbled. Then inwardly groaned. No-one ever said “nice”.
“You two are so good for each other.” Maggie clapped her hands together. “You always have been. You can see it in the way you glow.”
Oh.
“Really?” Abby said through a tight smile. “Well, look at that,” she said turning up a wrist, a bare wrist. She never wore a watch. She always used her phone for the time.
“Look at what dear?” Maggie asked.
“The time,” Abby squeaked. “It’s probably passing.”
“It is,” Maggie said, lifting her sleeve to reveal her man’s watch. “God, it’s only twenty past eight. I feel like I’ve been up for days.”
“Twenty past eight?” Abby said wide-eyed. “I need to go. I’m late.”
She shuffled between Maggie and Jude, very careful not to make nipple contact with the latter. “Late. And. Stuff,” she said as she stared down at Jude’s body, wonderful body, a fraction away from hers.
“I’ll see you out,” Jude said.
“It’s OK. I know the way,” Abby squealed.
If she could make it outside without touching Jude, everything would be all right. Just a few more steps. And she was there, over the threshold into cool morning air. Aaaaaaaaaaaaah. Like a cold shower.
She turned round, a great deal more composed.
“So,” she said.
“So,” Jude replied. She leaned on the door frame, arms crossed and a sad smile on her face.
“See you later?” Abby offered. “Maybe?”
“Yes, we should,” Jude replied.
“Good.”
“And Mum’s right you know.”
“About what?”
“You are beautiful.” Jude gave her an appreciative look which made Abby melt inside. “You look stunning today. Just like that time on the balcony in Greece.”
Shit.
Chapter 14.
So that’s what it was: The coy look, the rosy cheeks, the sudden withdrawal. After all these years it made sense to Jude. Those rare moments when Abby would pull away, when she glowed her most beautiful.
