The Goodmans

by Clare Ashton

  “You are very different to Eli I think,” Juliette said with a curl of a smile.

  Jude laughed. It was as if Juliette had been studying her at the same time.

  “Eli’s very much my mother’s son,” Jude replied. “I take after my father.”

  “Hmm,” Juliette responded with a hint of amusement. “I think Eli has some of your father’s amiability though and you a little of your mother’s fire.”

  Jude was about to disagree, but Juliette had witnessed her outburst at her mother’s homophobia. “Yes,” Jude said. “Apparently so. Although until recently I would have disagreed. Something about being back home brings it out.” Jude wondered, “Do you know my parents well?”

  “Richard, non.”

  Jude loved the way Juliette said her father’s name. Rishar. It made her down-to-earth father sound comically exotic.

  “But Maggie?” Jude pressed.

  “Yes, I know your mother better.” Juliette took another sip of liqueur as if to signal an end to the subject.

  But Jude couldn’t help but stare at her expectantly. The combination of Juliette’s intriguing character and the friction between her and Maggie made curiosity inevitable.

  Juliette raised a single eyebrow. “We were rivals for many years.”

  “How so?” Jude leaned closer.

  “I was a PhD student at King’s when I met her. She was a very bright woman.” Admiration shone in Juliette’s expression as she recalled. “I tutored a group of students including Maggie and none had her spark. She was the only one who challenged my opinions. The others,” Juliette shrugged dismissively. “They wanted hints about exam papers. But Maggie, she was incisive, and even when her opinions were not as rigorously supported by the literature as mine she would tie me up in knots with her linguistic abilities.”

  Jude was about to reassure Juliette about the admirable fluency of her English.

  “I’m more confident now.” Juliette dismissed any concern with a wave of her hand. “Many years practice lecturing in America. But back then as a new PhD student.” Juliette smiled, her eyes distant. “Maggie was challenging. I adored and loathed her for it.”

  Jude’s interest in her mother was piqued. She knew very little about Maggie before she’d met Jude’s father. Maggie had Jude so young it seemed impossible she did anything of note before. Jude had seen pictures of her mother at school – farcical shots of the young, rebellious and scowling Maggie, forced into a pinafore and tights – then nothing until wedding photos.

  “Do you have any more pictures of my mother?”

  “Ah,” Juliette said with an expression which flickered between amusement and embarrassment. “That was naughty of me to show you all that photograph. It seems Maggie still brings out the worst in me and I wanted to ruffle her feathers.”

  “You do have more?” Jude pressed.

  “One or two, yes.” Juliette hesitated. “When I realised who Eli’s mother was, I searched through my old college photos and scanned a few. I was a keen photographer at university.” She looked at Jude with indulgence. “I suppose Maggie wouldn’t mind these.”

  She retrieved her mobile from a black clutch bag, flicked across the screen then handed the device to Jude. The black and white shot showed Maggie studying in a library, her brow furrowed in concentration in exactly the way it did now.

  “Maggie was brilliant,” Juliette said. “She could have done anything. But she wanted a family and sacrificed everything for that. She could have been much more than a school teacher. ”

  Jude smiled. It was a criticism she’d heard frequently applied to Maggie and she knew her mother’s response off pat.

  “Teaching children is one of the most important careers,” Jude said. “Little is more vital beyond being a farmer and providing food.”

  Juliette tilted her head. “Is that your mother’s answer?”

  “Yes, I’ve paraphrased. Maggie says it with much more finesse.”

  “She was always capable of beautiful eloquence,” Juliette said. “But also of nauseating vulgarity.”

  Jude laughed. “You know her well.”

  “Yes,” Juliette said, and again her words implied so much. “Here’s another.” And she swiped her finger across the screen.

  “Oh,” Jude said, sitting back.

  It was an intimate picture of Maggie’s face, a little blurred and overexposed. She was smiling, like a satisfied cat rolling in front of a blazing fire. Jude had never seen Maggie as carefree. Not a hint of ire wrinkled her features, no concern furrowed her brow, no scathing comment about to issue from her lips. Simple bliss. It was difficult to reconcile the young woman with her mother. What happened to Maggie to make her so irascible?

  Jude stroked the image, then felt foolish. She’d expected the texture of a matt photo but her fingertips encountered the impersonal perfection of the screen.

  “Would you?” Jude said, almost shy. “Would you send me a copy?”

  “Of course.”

  They swapped numbers and moments later Jude possessed a secret glimpse of her mother’s life.

  “Thank you,” Jude said, embarrassed at coveting such an artefact.

  The room was beginning to fill, the crowd at the bar two people thick, and music played in the background. Jude peered over the heads of the throng but couldn’t spot Eli or, more importantly, Abby.

  “Are you looking for your friend?” Juliette said, her head tilted to the side and her eyes observing with piercing clarity.

  “Yes, I was.”

  The older woman placed her liqueur on the table and clasped her hands elegantly in her lap, her attention focussed solely on Jude. “You like her, don’t you?” she said, her study unwavering.

  Jude’s heart fluttered at the exposure. She deflected. “We’ve been friends for years. Since the first year at university.”

  “I didn’t mean that way,” Juliette replied, and the way she meant was abundantly clear.

  Jude hadn’t talked to a single soul about her growing feelings towards Abby and the changing way she viewed her friend. The weight of her secret seemed suddenly unbearable.

  “Actually,” Jude said, “yes I do.”

  Was that a smirk on the other woman’s face?

  “It was very plain to see,” Juliette said. Then she no longer hid her amusement, breaking out into a broad grin. “Although I must admit, Eli briefed me about Abby before.”

  Bloody Eli.

  “He briefed me on you all.”

  “Thanks, Eli.” Jude tutted.

  “And so far, I agree with his colourful assessments.” Juliette eyed her and sipped through smiling lips.

  “I imagine he described me as an embarrassing dullard of a sister with thunderous thighs.”

  “Non,” Juliette said with satisfaction, “although you are right; he wasn’t gracious about your thighs.”

  Jude burst out laughing at Eli’s impertinence and Juliette’s.

  “He admires you very much,” Juliette added. “He described you as very intelligent, secure, supportive and central to the family – qualities he abhors in himself of course, but recognises as essential in others.”

  Jude had to laugh again. Juliette, it seemed, was spot on about Eli.

  “I think he was right too. You are an admirable woman.”

  “Thank you,” Jude said, still amused by Juliette’s observation of her brother.

  “I think he’s right about your friend also. She adores you.” And Juliette’s expression softened.

  “Yes,” Jude conceded. “I think she might.”

  “So.” Juliette threw up her hands. “Why are you two not together?”

  “It’s complicated.”

  “Love always is, but then it’s so simple too. Your heart sees to that. It must have what it wants even when your brain tells you a thousand reasons why not.”

  “There’s a lot to lose.” Jude said, tensing up. “We’ve been friends for years and Abby relies on me and my family. If it went wrong….”
>
  “But if it went right,” Juliette said breathlessly, opening her slim arms out wide and embracing the potential. “It could be beautiful.”

  Jude’s heart thumped in her chest. “And, I’m not… I’m not a… I’ve never had a relationship with a woman before,” her words rushed out.

  “Ah,” Juliette exclaimed and she dropped her hands, her face effused with warm envy. “Then you have so much to look forward to.”

  Jude gulped. “I don’t know what I’m doing. I don’t know how to do this.”

  “It will become apparent.” Juliette tilted her head. “If you choose that path, you won’t have time to think. It’s always a rollercoaster.”

  “But it must be so different.”

  “Hmm.” Juliette shrugged. “Do you always fall for the same type of man? Non. I bet all your lovers were different and your relationships too.”

  “True,” Jude conceded. But Christ, none of them had breasts and a vagina.

  Eli once told her he fell in love with a person from the eyes down. If he saw a spark of intelligence, wit and a kind soul in their eyes, he’d listen to their voice. If he found their tone beguiling and their words inspiring, he’d fall in love with whatever body they came with. By that time it was unimportant to him and everyone was physically attractive in some way. The biceps of hairy Steve. The curving hips of Arabella. The sheer fragile beauty of Jack. How Jude envied her brother now.

  “It has to be different with a woman,” Jude gasped.

  “For me, yes.” Juliette smiled. “Love and sex with a man is like listening to a soloist. Pleasant, sometimes beautiful and moving. But with a woman.” She was wistful. “It is a symphony of sound and colour. You cannot help be swept up in it. So much to look forward to,” Juliette exclaimed again with not a little pleasure. “Oh I envy you. That first rush with a woman. There’s nothing like it. Once you start down that path, you won’t be able to stop, and you won’t want to. Not with a woman you gaze at with those eyes.”

  If anything Juliette’s reassurance frightened Jude more. What if Abby felt that rollercoaster ride but not her?

  Jude shook her head. “My mother wouldn’t approve.”

  “That is unfortunate. I’m sorry she’s like that.” Juliette hesitated, then with a flash of defiance urged, “Don’t ever let that stop you.” She reached forward and squeezed her hand. “Never.”

  Jude was about to respond when Juliette stood. “They’re here.”

  Jude turned and spotted Eli and Selene skipping down the steps with matching tuxedoes and Converse shoes. But it was the woman behind who dominated Jude’s attention.

  Abby entered the room almost a different person. Her hair was slicked back from her face and the bright jewels of her eyes, so often hidden behind her fringe, shone bright. Her lips pulsed red and she was dressed in head-to-toe black with an elegant androgyny that was potent. She looked devastating. Gone was Abby’s soft caring local doctor and in her place was a woman ready to kill, or at the very least ready for unfettered hot sex.

  Jude was halfway across the room before she realised she’d taken a step.

  Chapter 24.

  The cream dress. It was the cream dress. Abby was done for.

  Jude’s sun-kissed waves cascaded over bare shoulders. Her breasts were cupped to perfection. The material slipped around Jude’s magnificent thighs as she sauntered fluidly towards Abby. She looked divine.

  Jude stopped an inch away, her half-naked bosom radiating heat. “Hi,” she whispered.

  Her beautiful friend’s eyes were dark in the shadows and lips parted a fraction so that Abby stared at them waiting for words to issue. Those were the most delicious lips in existence, with the prominent curve which perpetually seemed to smile and commanded attention. And soft. Abby melted inside just gazing at them. How could you not want to kiss those lips?

  “You look stunning,” Jude murmured.

  Jude’s fingers curled sensually around Abby’s hips as she drew her into a hug. The touch was overpowering and the sensation radiated through Abby’s body and warmth shot to her core. It tingled up her spine and its deliciousness was surpassed only when she was drawn into Jude’s sumptuous body.

  As they embraced, every inch of Abby, from her toes to the hair which stood on the back of her neck, appreciated that hug. She flung her arms around Jude’s shoulders and succumbed to the desire to pull her closer, breasts embracing her friend’s supple bosom, thighs slipping between the wonders that were Jude’s, Abby’s body reacting as if they were naked.

  The urge to run her fingers through Jude’s silky curls, grab great handfuls and kiss those swollen lips was insane. She wanted nothing more than to strip Jude of her dress and have her prodigious thighs roll between her own.

  “Oh,” she moaned.

  Was there any point trying to disguise it?

  “Hello, sis.”

  Abby twitched at Eli’s unmistakable voice behind her. He’d drawn out his greeting achingly slowly so that innuendo and sarcasm dripped from every syllable. She sprung from Jude’s embrace, eyes wide in alarm.

  His grinning white teeth shone like a spotlight. “How about a hug like that for your brother?” he said to them both, arms out wide.

  Abby’s desire curdled and she couldn’t help the feeling scrunching her face.

  “No?” Eli said teasing her. “But it looked so nice.”

  “Eli, you bugger.” Jude stepped between them. “Now, congratulations on your engagement. Let me buy you a drink.”

  “Aw, sis. You’re too kind. Better get Abby a drink too. She looks hot.”

  Abby thought she heard a slap and a yelp, but couldn’t swear to it. She shuffled behind Jude as they headed to the bar, with only Jude’s voluptuous bottom for view. That was torture enough but when Jude turned she was more beautiful than ever. The heat of the crowd must have elicited a glow – her cheeks rose, lips swollen, even her bare chest which peeped from her dress was flushed. If Abby hadn’t known better she would have said Jude glowed with desire and the idea alone was intoxicating.

  Jude leant down close to Abby’s ear and the warmth which rose from her chest was dizzying.

  “What would you like?” Jude murmured. “To drink.”

  “I don’t care,” Abby gasped.

  “Perhaps some wine?” she whispered and her breath tickled Abby’s bare neck and teased down her cleavage in a sweet caress. Then Jude leaned a little closer so her lips tickled against Abby’s ear.

  “Or a finger width of whisky?”

  A quiet groan escaped Abby. It may have contained words. Equally it may not. Abby suspected the latter when Jude added, “I’ll choose,” and mercifully turned to order at the bar.

  “A bottle of Prosecco,” Abby heard her shout, now the music was louder. Jude brandished the bottle and four glasses above the crowd and stood them on the ledge around one of the square pillar bases.

  “Here you go,” she said passing a large glass to Abby, another for Eli and a smaller one at Selene’s insistence.

  “Congratulations,” Jude cried to her brother and fiancée before slipping an arm around Abby.

  Such a simple touch, and frequent throughout their friendship, but enough to make Abby tremble now. Enough to want to turn round and pin Jude up against a wall. The compulsion was so strong it felt as inevitable as jumping off a tall building when peering over the edge.

  “Drink up, Abby,” Eli said. “You could be in for a long night.”

  Abby had been half way down her glass and little shot up her nose as she coughed. Oh for a long night with Jude.

  Eli smirked over his glass. “How are you enjoying the evening so far?”

  “Great,” Abby said, bubbles popping up her nostrils. Apart from the small problem of being reduced to lower brain function and losing any sense of control or inhibition. Oh this was dangerous. She took a long swig in a desperate attempt to cool her urges.

  “You know what would make it better?” Eli said. “What would really heat up the action
?”

  Abby couldn’t help her eyebrows shooting skywards. “What?”

  “Dancing. I love it when you two make music together.”

  “No,” Abby groaned, beyond alarmed. “Dancing?”

  “Dancing.” Eli grinned.

  Abby was about to plead with Jude, but she was mouthing something at Eli. I will kill you? But it can’t have been that because Eli continued.

  “Come on beloved,” he said, offering his arm to Selene. “Let’s see these two get up close and personal.”

  And before Abby’s brain could fail again to produce anything coherent she found herself guided to the floor by Jude’s arm circling her body.

  So dancing. They were going dancing. She could do this. She’d danced with Jude thousands of times. She danced with friends often. And the track was perfect as she followed Jude into the throng. Some grating harsh rock to erase her desire. Not in the least bit sexy. Absolutely perfect.

  Then it wasn’t.

  The guitars crashed to an end, followed by silence, then the unmistakable clap and Spanish guitar intro to When We’re High reverberated around the room. Abby knew what was coming next – a pulsing rhythm and slinky beat made to inspire swaying hips. A song that spoke of smoky bars and sultry love-making. It had this effect when Abby was alone, dancing in an ironic sexy way around her kitchen. Now here was Jude, all pheromones on legs, her voluptuous body inches away and beginning to move to the music.

  Before Abby could take her leave, Jude took her hands and slipped her fingers in between hers. Oh God, they were sinfully soft.

  Jude held their hands, palm to palm, hips undulating to the beat of the song. Warmth flowed through their hands and bodies, and Jude didn’t take her eyes off Abby’s for a moment. It was if they plunged into her very soul.

  “We’re only dancing,” Abby told herself. “Relax. Everyone’s doing the same.”

  The tension dissipated from her shoulders and unlocked the fluidity of her body. She began to move her hips in time with Jude. Their bodies slipped closer and Abby closed her eyes to the music, dizzy with the warmth from Jude and headiness of the wine.