The Goodmans

by Clare Ashton

  “Here,” Maggie said, opening the book at the front. “Here she is. Just born and a few weeks afterwards.”

  Juliette adjusted her glasses and peered at the photo of newborn Jude swaddled in white and another of her cradled in Maggie’s arms. The note below said six weeks.

  “Oh,” Juliette exclaimed. “She’s beautiful. Look at those eyes.” And she placed her fingertips on the page as if to stroke the child. “How I miss having a baby, don’t you?”

  Maggie gazed at Juliette’s face and soppy expression. She could have melted.

  “I adore Selene and the person she’s become,” Juliette continued, “and there’s something magical about every age. But I wish I could hold her in my arms once more, feel her skin as soft as a butterfly’s wing and inhale her milky breath.” She stroked the page again and melancholy blanked her features. Did she regret never knowing Jude?

  “She’s beautiful. And big.” Juliette looked at Maggie with alarm. “Merde. Six weeks? She was that size at six weeks?” She put a condoling hand on Maggie’s knee.

  “Jude was bloody enormous. Eleven pounds at birth. Little Eli shot out like a pip after that.”

  Juliette howled with laughter. “Well my lady parts have just done a little squeeze in sympathy,” she added.

  And Maggie tried very hard not to think of Juliette’s lady parts.

  Maggie turned the pages, through the toddler years until Jude’s first day at school. Maggie felt a teary smile blossom on her face. Jude looked so proud, standing to attention by the door, her little school rucksack sat neatly on her shoulders.

  Jude had been excited about starting. It hadn’t lasted. By day three she questioned the need to attend school so often and by week two she begged to stay home. She missed Maggie, wanted to play bears and ogres in the garden and tickle baby Eli. Maggie clutched at her heart. It was a desire she took for granted when they were little, their constant need for her affection. Maggie would never get over losing it.

  She sniffed and turned the pages. “High school,” she said.

  There was photo after photo of Jude excelling – playing netball, performing in the school play – but in Maggie’s favourite she scowled. Jude’s arms were crossed and her jaw jutted. She was ready for the school disco and didn’t want Mum taking yet another photo while her friends waited. It was her thirteenth year and the beginning of distance. And while the photo broke Maggie’s heart, it was the one of which she was most proud. There was more than a little familiar attitude in that face.

  And for a while there were fewer photos, until Jude left for university. Then the smile was back, a more mature expression on a person who would pose for photos but say no to too many, and the grown woman had arrived.

  Maggie closed the album and stroked the leather cover. She was about to suggest another with more of Eli when she noticed Juliette’s pallor.

  “I’m sorry,” Maggie whispered. “Perhaps that wasn’t a good idea after all.”

  Juliette shook her head and sat back. Her pursed lips trembled slightly. “Thank you,” she said. “Thank you for showing me.”

  Maggie quietly returned the albums to the shelf and took her seat again next to Juliette. She looked drained.

  “What about Selene?” Maggie offered. “Do you have any photos with you?”

  “Actually, yes,” Juliette said, dispelling her languor. “I’ve been scanning my old prints.” She fished out a phone from her bag and swiped across the screen. “Some are accessible here, although in no order.” She smiled at Maggie as she offered the snapshot. “She was around nine in this picture.”

  A leggy Selene in shorts, knees wider than her thighs, stood in the sea with a beach ball beneath her arm.

  “They’re like baby deer at that age, aren’t they; all limbs and bones.”

  Maggie nodded. “Eli was. Jude was always more substantial.”

  “I hope you never said the word substantial to her.”

  “Of course not. I was called skinny rake at school and was thoroughly sick of it. Eli wasn’t quite so sensitive.”

  Juliette chuckled. “I was going to say that tact wasn’t his strong suit, but he has no compulsion to sensitivity at all. He revels in tactlessness. Much like you do.”

  “I do not!” Maggie was indignant. “I wouldn’t say diplomacy was my greatest gift.”

  Juliette snorted.

  “I don’t wind people up on purpose,” Maggie said

  Juliette raised an eyebrow.

  “But when I’m being honest with people,” Maggie clarified, “it’s a bonus if I do.”

  They both laughed.

  “Here’s Selene’s graduation photo,” Juliette said, swiping her finger across the screen.

  It could have been a photo of Juliette, the similarity at that age was so strong. Slight differences occurred to Maggie. Selene was shorter than her mother who stood proud at her side in the photo, and her face more easy and relaxed. Her appearance was true to her spirit, Selene a gentler woman than her incisive mother. It made Maggie maternal suddenly, and protective of her future daughter-in-law.

  “Oh, we are much earlier now,” Juliette said. “Three months old.”

  Maggie was transfixed by the sight of Juliette, long raven hair around bare shoulders, cradling her baby to her bosom. The baby grinned in the gummy, dribbly way Maggie adored but it was Juliette’s face that made her heart heave. She was little changed from when Maggie had known her, they must have split a few years before, but her face was softened from recent pregnancy and glowed with maternal love. The tenderness between them was so apparent Maggie could almost feel their embrace upon her own cheek and she imagined herself in the picture, the silky Juliette on one side and baby on the other.

  It had been everything she’d craved when they’d been together, her beautiful lover and a baby nuzzling between them. Everything she longed for.

  Maggie tried to speak. She had to say something, but no words would come. She shuddered as she tried to fill her lungs, and hot tears ran down her cheek.

  “I’m sorry,” she managed and she got to her feet. She wiped at her tears as she stumbled from the house, but they flowed easily and trickled warm over her fingers with every stride down the garden.

  Her feet thudded down the lawn, uncoordinated and clumsy with her blurred vision, and jarring her whole body. Maggie collapsed on the riverside bench, buried her head and curled her body tight. She wished herself as small as possible so she could crush the aching emptiness inside.

  She imagined Juliette would be startled and remain politely in the living room, so when arms wrapped around her Maggie cried out in overwhelmed surprise. Juliette enveloped her and held her tight. Surrounded by the warmth of her once lover, Maggie released every ounce of sorrow and regret.

  When Maggie came to, the last of her sobs exhausted from her body, she felt foolish. She sniffed and wiped her face, not wanting Juliette to see. She stayed her head on Juliette’s lap, ashamed to face her.

  “I adored you,” Maggie murmured. She meant it as an apology for her unseemly grief.

  “I know,” Juliette said. “I know because I felt the same way.”

  Maggie sat up and found Juliette’s face a similar mess of feelings. Juliette touched her cheek. “You were everything to me.”

  The admission took Maggie’s breath away with the weight of the world that had been Juliette, as if Maggie were twenty again. For years, she’d indoctrinated herself, reiterating Juliette could never have loved her, and to hear her say otherwise made it more unbearable.

  “I loved you,” Maggie whispered, and the three words had never sounded so inadequate for the magnitude of feeling.

  They both twitched at the sound of company inside. Richard’s deep voice rumbled into the garden and a blur of energy in the living room suggested Eli was back. A more leisurely shape suggested Selene was too.

  Maggie rubbed at her face preparing for company.

  “Let me,” Juliette said, gently touching Maggie. “Stay here whi
le I distract them a while.” And she left, dabbing her cheeks and walking slowly up the lawn.

  Maggie closed her eyes when she heard Juliette inside and the eruption from Eli and Selene. She was exhausted. The day’s emotions had taken their toll and she hadn’t an ounce of energy or vexation left in her soul. The sun warmed her face, and her skin tightened as her tears dried.

  Maggie sighed and got up, wandering only far enough to find a spot to lie down. She rolled onto the thick cushion of moss and spread her arms wide, open to anything the world had left to throw at her.

  “Well now she’s crying in the garden about that rude foreign woman.” Mrs Petty’s voice drifted over the wall, as welcome as a shit-covered fly on a French Fancy. Maggie realised she didn’t even have the energy to yell back obscenities. A shadow fell across her eyes and Juliette’s amused face peered down.

  “Don’t get up,” Juliette said. She lay down beside Maggie and gazed at her with beautiful hazel eyes, her lashes still dark with tears. “I had a nice day,” she murmured.

  “Me too,” Maggie replied, her heart heavy with the poignancy of that truth.

  “Pity about your obnoxious neighbour.”

  Maggie shrugged, too tired to care.

  “Perhaps we should give her something to really complain about.” Juliette’s eyes flashed. Maggie recognised that look. Naughty, playful, insinuating.

  “Fancy a roll around in the grass, Mrs Goodman?”

  Good God, yes. Maggie laughed. Oh good God, yes.

  But she contented herself with the offer of friendship which Juliette extended when she held her hand and lay snug beside her.

  Chapter 35.

  Jude basked in the morning sun, luxuriating in Abby spooned in front and touching breast to toe. Abby’s chest rose and fell with the easy rhythm of sleep and Jude was content to admire her.

  Even though they’d breakfasted and made love that Saturday morning, Jude ached for her, Abby’s naked body against hers irresistible.

  She stroked the nape of Abby’s neck, revelling in the soft hair that swept together into a short downy line. She nuzzled, inhaling Abby’s scent, and closed her eyes to the warm lure. Jude kissed her, taking a nibble every time. She couldn’t remember wanting to taste someone so much. She could have kissed and caressed Abby all day.

  She reached round to hold Abby close and smiled as her lover stirred. Abby groaned with sleepy appreciation but as Jude cupped her breasts she quickened. That hitch in breath, the short sharp inhalation, was an instant aphrodisiac. Jude couldn’t resist the sound of Abby’s arousal and she nuzzled closer, taking more hungry mouthfuls and rolling her tenderness in her mouth.

  “Mmm”, Abby moaned. Her body writhed as Jude stroked a trail of seductive intention down to her thighs. She leaned back, parting her legs in anticipation, breath heightening with every tantalising touch. These moments where Abby desired her were overwhelming and Jude had to fight to control the wave of arousal that almost overcame her.

  She hesitated a moment to enjoy Abby’s trembling craving, to tease a little longer, then they both gasped as Jude slid her fingers into Abby’s slick heat.

  Abby didn’t wait. She reached her hand back, eager to feel her lover’s desire and Jude groaned when she so expertly found her centre.

  They moved together, their breathing matching the rhythm of their caresses. Quicker they writhed, and quicker they gasped, each sending the other higher with every moan. When Abby began to tense, Jude was with her and she pulled Abby so tight into her body that when fluid darkness swept over her, the boundary where she ended and Abby began seemed to blur.

  They surfaced as one, sated by their exquisite coming together, and Abby rolled into Jude’s chest.

  “Morning.” She giggled. “Again.”

  “Good morning.” Jude grinned.

  “Should we do that again to check if you’re attracted to women?”

  “Well I don’t know,” Jude feigned. “It might be a one off. I mean the one on Tuesday morning before you went to work, the one when you came home, then again in the night. Then the ones on Wednesday, Thursday, Friday…”

  “I see.” Abby sighed mock disappointment. “We should keep checking then. Every single day.” Abby couldn’t hide her smile: a great, big, delighted one.

  Jude ran her finger down Abby’s chest. “I’m still finding these attractive you know. Although I should explore them to make sure,” and she swirled her fingertip around Abby’s nipple.

  “Stop,” Abby gasped. “I can’t again.”

  “I bet you could,” Jude murmured.

  “You’re probably right.” Abby trembled as Jude indulged her caress. “But I might die. Seriously, I’m beginning to think it’s possible to die from too much sex.”

  Jude relented and kissed Abby delicately on the forehead. “Let’s leave it another hour then.”

  Abby laughed. “Then we need food. We’ve run out and neither of us do hungry well.”

  “True,” Jude conceded, “but for this I’m prepared to go without.”

  “High praise indeed.”

  Jude looked at her more seriously. “I can’t keep my hands off you. You’re all I think about.”

  It was true. Jude’s mind was consumed by Abby – this woman she thought she’d known as well as herself. How in tune they were. Everything they’d been as friends but now more, as if Abby had another level that Jude had discovered. Jude’s heart flooded just thinking about it. She’d never imagined how complete a relationship could be. It all seemed effortless, while that ease took away none of its magic. Everything fitted like no other relationship had, and how quickly it fell into place. It was enthralling.

  Abby gazed at her, with a happy face.

  “I can’t stop touching you,” Jude whispered, and already her body craved Abby once more.

  Abby closed her eyes in the doziest, most content smile Jude had seen. “Good,” she murmured. “Let’s go out for food, and when we come back you can fail to resist me all over again.”

  -

  “This is so exciting,” Maggie said as she walked away with Juliette from the supermarket and down Broad Street. Together with Dean and the class, Maggie had quickly launched an initial test phase of the Food Bank mobile app and she felt light with energy.

  “Anisha’s prototype has everyone intrigued,” Maggie blustered as they walked beneath the Jacobian arcade. “And it’s raising awareness too. I don’t think many in Ludbury realised poverty is only a few metres from their doorstep. And Dean,” she said beaming, “he and his father are developing another property with the council for affordable housing. And I had a message from the bishop assuring me they would expand the shelter to cover the loss of the church’s accommodation.”

  Juliette smiled. It was an expression part empathetic joy but also amusement.

  “What?” Maggie huffed.

  “You should think about running for the council,” Juliette said.

  “There’s no need to mock.”

  “I’m not. I think you should. And afterwards, maybe more.”

  “Politics?”

  “Why not?”

  Well why not. Maggie had the time through enforced semi-retirement. She’d always had the inclination, and now it seemed she had the motivation too. She smirked at Juliette. “You know, maybe.” They continued on.

  “I hope, next time I visit, you’ll have given it some thought,” Juliette said.

  Maggie nodded, as her heart sank. She absent-mindedly took Juliette’s arm as if to cling to her presence before she left the next day.

  “Are we becoming friends?” Juliette said, amusement still sparkling in her eye.

  “We’re going to be bloody related soon.”

  “Seriously though. Are we finally managing to become friends?”

  Maggie grinned. “I’ll think about it.”

  It had been a good day and Juliette’s pronouncement that they were now friends made it even better. But there would always be a part of Maggie that craved mo
re, and that part ached. It was the vestige of the heart that had pined for Juliette to come back, and had kept her awake all night waiting for her return. And in the years that followed something inside would never be satisfied with the remainder life offered. A flame was very much alive for Juliette, even though Maggie’s being would rage against such a union, and any union between women.

  Juliette placed her hand on Maggie’s and it was only then she realised how hard she gripped Juliette’s arm.

  “Sorry,” Maggie said. She would have taken her hand away had Juliette not gently held it in place.

  “Maggie.” Juliette stopped and they faced each other. “I’m sorry for everything that happened between us.” And she looked at Maggie with deep sorrow. “I know if we’d stayed together, I would never have had Selene and you Eli, and neither of us would change that. But I never stopped thinking about you, and after the initial pain I always regretted what happened to us. I would be very grateful to be your friend.”

  Juliette’s words affected Maggie acutely, capturing, as happened so often recently, Maggie’s own feelings. It always surprised her. She’d assumed Juliette the least injured party because she left, and the lingering effect of their breakup on her former lover was a constant source of surprise during Juliette’s stay.

  “We need to find a way to get on with each other,” Maggie said, “For Eli and Selene’s sakes. But I want it for us too. I’ve enjoyed your company very much.”

  She meant it. It had been years since she’d spent so much time with someone and not wanted to throttle them. Far from it in fact. Juliette’s company had soothed and revitalised Maggie and she’d found herself smiling for no apparent reason while doing things as mundane as the washing up, and more than once.

  Then Maggie spied another who gave her cause for joy. “Is that Abby?” She peered over the heads of the crowd. “It is. I haven’t seen her in days. Abby!” She waved. “Is she with someone?”