“Why?”
“My first lover was actually an older student when I first started my undergraduate degree. She was in her final year and giving extra tutoring for part of her credit. We started sleeping together in January, knowing full well that she would be leaving in May. She works with an orchestra in London now. My second lover was a cellist. We worked together for many hours on duets for part of our final concerts. She was called Melissa. She graduated last year. I’m afraid we didn’t part on very good terms.” Hazaar sipped her water.
“How so?”
She shrugged. “She wanted more than I could give her.”
“How do you mean?”
“She wanted to meet my family. Said that she would tell them we were friends. Melissa wasn’t subtle or discreet. She fit the stereotypical lesbian profile, and as much as I cared about her, I didn’t love her enough to risk my parents finding out.” She hung her head. “I know I sound like a complete bitch saying that. I knew Melissa wasn’t going to be in my life forever. I knew that it was fleeting. I didn’t see the point in rocking the boat for no reason.”
“Did she love you?”
Hazaar shook her head. “No, I don’t think so. I think what she loved was the idea of me. The exotic girlfriend.” She laughed. “Bradford really isn’t that exotic, but whatever.” She grinned. “Since Melissa, there have been a few very brief affairs. Musicians giving concerts and so on. No one important.” She looked deeply into Charlie’s eyes, and again the fear radiated from within and made Charlie wonder at its cause. “Till you.” They kissed again, a soft, tender kiss, a promise.
“Hazaar, how do you think your life will end up? Do you think if you found the right relationship you would tell your family, or do you think you’ll always be looking for a fleeting relationship until you’re forced to toe the line?”
Hazaar was silent for a long time, toying with her fork, chasing rice around her plate. “I guess I’m torn. In one way, I think maybe I’m waiting to find the right person to walk into my life. The one I can love with all my heart.” She smiled a little sadly. “Someone who will fill me up so much that I’ll find it possible to walk away from my family, my friends, my culture, everything that I’ve known and been a part of since I was born. Because that’s what I would have to do.” She put her fork down and pushed the plate away. “In another way, I think I’m trying to fit as much living—as much life—as I possibly can into the tiny amount of free time I have left before I have to comply with the customs of my people, and the wishes of my family. I don’t know from one day to the next which way I’ll go when the time comes. I think it will depend entirely on who is in my life when the time comes to make the decision. I know that isn’t a good answer. I know that people want guarantees in a relationship.”
“There are no guarantees in a relationship. I’ll say again, just be honest with me and keep me in the loop. Teach me about your religion, your customs, your culture. Help me to understand.”
“What do you get out of that?”
“I get to spend time with you. I get to know you, and vice versa. If that helps you with your decisions one day, great. If not, I’ll have learned a lot along the way. I’ll be honest, Hazaar. Like everyone else, I would love to find the woman I’ll spend the rest of my life with, but I also know that I’m twenty-four years old, and I don’t need to find that yet. That doesn’t mean I should sit around and just wait for her to fall out of the sky. It could be that you and I are meant to be together. Or it could be that we aren’t. We’ll never know if we don’t spend time together and see. Everything you’ve told me suggests that you’re as uncertain of your future as anyone else is. If that changes, as your girlfriend, I would expect you to tell me that, but that’s a bridge to cross some other time.”
“You’re an amazing woman, Charlie Porter.” They kissed again, Hazaar’s lips brushing hers as softly as a butterfly’s wing, her tongue barely wetting her lips as it sought entrance to her mouth. The passion burned beneath the kiss laced with devotion, and Charlie’s head spun as Hazaar slowly eased away. “So, it’s your turn, beautiful.”
Charlie frowned, her eyes still closed. “My turn what?”
“Exes.”
“Oh, sure. Just one.”
“Oh my God, really?”
Charlie nodded.
“Wow.” Hazaar popped the last nacho in her mouth. “She must have been very special. Tell me about her.”
Charlie took a deep breath and steeled herself. If Hazaar could open up about her fears, it was only fair she do so too. “Well, Gail and I met at school. We were best friends, practically inseparable. She had some problems with her parents. A lot of the stuff she wouldn’t talk about, but she would come into school during the first few years in school with some awful bruises on her. She forged notes to get out of sports so that the teachers and other kids wouldn’t see them. She’d stay over at my house as much as possible, but we really didn’t know how bad it was. I still didn’t, until it was too late. Anyway, we finished school and went out to celebrate finishing our exams. Gail was always really outgoing and vivacious, the life and soul of the party. She was always looking out for me, like my protector or something.” Charlie laughed a little sadly at the bittersweet memories. “We got absolutely smashed that night and ended up kissing. I’d never been kissed like that before. I mean, I’d kissed some of the boys who had asked me out when I was in school. Played spin the bottle and all that. But when Gail kissed me, it was like coming home at the same time as being the most scared and excited I had ever been.” She ran her fingers through her hair. “We spent the whole summer together, mostly at my house. Kissing whenever we could get time alone. Learning each other. Exploring. We became lovers before the end of the summer, and when we started college, we decided it was time to tell our parents. My parents were actually amazingly cool with it. They loved Gail. My mum was forever telling her that she was like another daughter to her. It was really very easy for us at my house. My parents did take a little time getting used to the idea of us sharing a room together when she stayed over, but they got there in the end.”
“Your parents sound amazing.”
Charlie grinned. “I know. I was—am—so lucky to have them. They’ve been so supportive. When Gail came out to her family it was a very different story. She didn’t want to. She was scared of how they would react. So we waited a while. Another two years, actually.” She laughed humourlessly. “Her mother threw up when we told her, and her father…” Charlie scrubbed her hand over her face, wishing she could scrub the memories from her brain.
“He took his belt off and started to beat her. I was trying to get it off him, to stop him, but he pushed me back and slammed me into a wall. I passed out. When I came around, I was on the pavement outside the house. I looked around for Gail, but I couldn’t see her anywhere. I could hear sirens getting closer, but my eyes wouldn’t open properly. When the ambulance got to me, they took me to the hospital and I had a really bad concussion. I was in hospital for three days. No one would tell me where Gail was, or what had happened when I was knocked out. One of Gail’s neighbours had seen her dad dump me on the pavement unconscious, and called for an ambulance.” She sipped her drink before looking directly at Hazaar. “Are you really sure you want to hear all this?”
“Yes. I think I need to know. It makes up a big part of you, doesn’t it?”
Charlie nodded. “It was the second day that I was in the hospital that Gail’s mother finally called the ambulance after her dad went to work. He had beaten her nearly to death. Four ribs were broken, her right arm was fractured, and both her hands were crushed where he had stomped on them. Her knee and shoulder were both dislocated, she had a hairline fracture of her skull, and her cheekbone was broken. There were sixty-eight puncture wounds across her back, shoulders, bum, and legs from the buckle of his belt, and her skin was just this bloody pulp. They didn’t think she’d survive. It was then that a lifetime of fractures and injuries were discovered as well.”
Charlie rattled off the catalogue of injuries she would never forget as long as she lived, the horror of them still nearly as fresh as the day she’d been told.
Hazaar picked up her glass and took a sip of water while Charlie pulled a deep breath into her lungs. She hated how much each memory still sliced her to the core. “The bastard used her as a punching bag from the time she was just a kid. Just a fucking kid, and he beat her so many times.” Her throat felt dry and scratchy. She pointed to Hazaar’s water glass. “Can I have a sip?”
“Sure.” Hazaar handed her the glass. “Finish it if you like.”
“Thanks.” Charlie swallowed down half the contents and rolled the glass between her palms as she rested her elbows on her knees. “He raped her when she was thirteen. Over and over again.” She wiped the tears from the corner of her eye as she sipped her drink again. “She survived that last beating, but had to have loads of surgeries. The therapy was agonizing. My parents insisted that she come and live with us. I talked to them, and we all agreed that I would take some time out of college to be with her, to help her with her therapy for her hands, the hospital appointments, counsellors, police interviews.” Charlie’s voice cracked. “Then there was the trial. It was…” She brushed away tears as they streaked down her cheeks. “It was almost two years later when she took her own life.”
Hazaar pulled Charlie close to her. Her head rested on her shoulder as she closed her eyes, memories assailing her.
“I found her in the garden. It was a lovely sunny day. First one that year. March. She’d told me she was going to lie in the garden and read. She spread the blanket out and took her whole prescription of pain meds and antidepressants.” She took the tissue Hazaar passed her. “She just went to sleep. She left a note saying that she was sorry. That she didn’t deserve me. She didn’t deserve to be a part of my family and that I should forget all about her and move on with my life. That I deserved someone beautiful and unspoiled. She said she couldn’t take the pain anymore.” Charlie sniffed and wiped at her eyes. “I never saw her like that. To me she was always beautiful. She was so strong to have survived all she did. Everything he did to her. I wish so much that she had believed me when I told her I loved her. No matter what she thought, to me she was special and beautiful and wonderful. She wasn’t just my lover or my friend. She was so much more to me.” The tears fell silently down her cheeks, and Hazaar rocked her slowly. “I wish I’d known when we were still children. I wish I could have helped her more.”
“I’m sure she knows that, baby.”
Charlie sniffed and wiped the tears from her cheeks. “Sorry. I’m sure that wasn’t part of your plan for the evening.”
Hazaar pressed her fingers against her lips. “My plan for the evening was to get to know you. Please don’t trivialize everything you’ve told me. You’re a very special woman, Charlie. I’m honoured that you shared it with me.” She pulled Charlie’s hand to her lips and kissed the back of her knuckles. “I’m so sorry that you had to go through it all. And I’m even sorrier that Gail suffered so and lost her way.” She placed a tender, chaste kiss against Charlie’s lips. “Thank you.” She wrapped her arms around her and held her close.
Charlie slowly pulled herself out of the morose memories and back to the present. She smiled as she eased away from Hazaar’s hold.
“Do you want to watch that movie I brought?” Charlie dug out the DVD, handed it to Hazaar, and settled against the dark leather couch.
“Is that why you’re a more mature student?”
“Yeah. It took me a while to straighten myself out after Gail died.”
“And there hasn’t been anyone since?”
“I went on a couple of dates, but I haven’t found anyone I clicked with. Certainly no one that I wanted to sleep with. Till now, anyway.”
“Then I’m even luckier than I thought.”
Charlie frowned in confusion as Hazaar put the DVD in the machine and walked back to the sofa. “I have a wonderful girlfriend, and I’m the only one who knows how amazing she is in bed.” Hazaar laughed and Charlie knew she was blushing. “You’re adorable.”
“Shut up and watch the film.” She grumbled playfully as she settled her head against Hazaar’s shoulder and wrapped an arm across her stomach. She felt the kiss Hazaar placed against the top of her head as the credits scrolled across the screen. She hadn’t talked to anyone about Gail in a long time, and certainly no one outside her family. But talking about it with Hazaar made her realize it hurt a bit less than it had. For the first time in what felt like forever, the thought of being in love again didn’t seem quite so terrifying.
Chapter Ten
The North of England, then
Charlie leafed through the pages of the TV Guide, well aware that she hadn’t read any of the articles or even seen any of the pictures. She glanced up at the clock—again—and noticed that the one in the living room was three minutes slower than the one in the kitchen. No wonder I’m always burning my pizza!
“Charlie?”
“Yeah?” She twisted to look over her shoulder as Beth walked into the room.
“Mum wants you in the kitchen.”
She practically ran into the kitchen. “What is it? What’s wrong?”
Her mother looked up and grinned at her. “Nothing’s wrong, Charlie. Relax. I just wanted you to taste the casserole and make sure it’s all right.”
Charlie nodded and headed for the stove. “What kind of stew is it?”
“Pork and cider.”
Charlie whirled on her mother. “Mum, I told you—”
“I’m teasing, Charlie, relax. It’s lamb casserole. I went to a halal butcher to get it, and there’s no alcohol in the recipe.” She rubbed her hands across Charlie’s upper arms. “Please, sweetheart, relax before you burst. Flipper has promised not to ask any embarrassing questions while Hazaar is here, and I promise I won’t embarrass you either.”
“Mum, I’m twenty-four. You don’t embarrass me anymore. I just really want you to like her. She’s…I…I really like her and I’m just nervous.” Charlie shrugged.
Her mother wrapped her arms tightly around Charlie’s shoulders. “I’m sure she’s lovely. If you like her so much, she must be very special. Just try to relax and it will probably be easier for her to relax too.”
Charlie sighed and wrapped her arms about her mother. “Thanks, Mum. It really means a lot to me that you’ve gone to so much trouble.”
“You are my daughter. This is not trouble. The first time I met your father’s mother—oh my God—that was a nightmare.” She pulled away and went to stir the casserole.
“What happened?”
“Well, your gran was already on her own by the time I met your dad. Your granddad had died about three years before that. So I actually thought it would be a bit easier.” She shook her head. “I was running late coming home from work. I was working at the solicitor’s then, typing letters and filing mostly. I was supposed to meet your dad in Stockport, at the bus station, and then we’d get the bus to his house for tea. But me being late out of work meant I missed the bus and so wasn’t there to meet your dad on time. He waited for me, though, and when I got off the bus, we just carried on. Well, your gran had gotten tea ready for when we should have been there. She’d set it all out and dished it up, so it was waiting for us on the table when we walked in. Your dad was serving his apprenticeship to be an electrician so he got cleaned up and left me with your gran, waiting for him. With the food in front of us. She’d tried something a little different, she said. She’d done a salad. Well, this was a new thing for your gran. We each had a lettuce leaf. One each. A tomato cut into quarters, three slices of cucumber, a radish, some cress, a stick of celery, and a slice of this pink, pretend meat. Spam. Foul, disgusting, slimy, gelatinous, horrible-tasting stuff. She didn’t say a word the whole time we waited for your dad, and when he came in, he sat down and she started telling him off for being late. He looked at me and sorta smiled, shook his head, and just said, �
�Sorry, Mum. The bus was late.’ Then he starts tucking in to his plate. She still hadn’t said anything to me. Your dad, bless him, kept trying to bring me into the conversation, but your gran was having none of it. A couple of hours later, your dad was taking me home, and we stopped for fish and chips because we were both starving, and while we were waiting for the bus he said, ‘Well, Sarah, tonight’s about as bad as it gets. What do ya say? Will ya marry me?’ And he pulled this ring out of his pocket.” Her mother wiggled her left hand at her. “I still think he did it just to get away from the old bat.”
“Mum!”
“Charlie, you’ve met your dad’s mother.” She pointed at her with a ladle. “You know it’s true.”
Charlie giggled and let go of some of the tension that had built up inside her. “I know.” She started to head for the kitchen door before she stopped and turned round. “Mum?”
“Yeah?”
“You did say we were having lamb, not Spam, right?” She ducked and skipped out of the room giggling as a tea towel flew toward her head. She was almost in the living room when she heard voices from the hallway.
“Hi, I’m Beth.”
“Nice to meet you. Charlie’s told me a lot about you.”
“Yeah? Was it good?”
“Flipper!” Charlie stepped behind Beth and slapped her lightly across the back of her head.
“Ow. You’re gonna damage the merchandise if you keep doing that.” Beth rubbed the back of her head.
“Not possible to do any more damage than you’ve already got.”
“Be nice, Charlie. Remember, I know embarrassing stuff about you.”
“Yeah, yeah.” She playfully pushed Beth aside and reached for Hazaar’s hand. “Come in.”
“Charlotte Porter, don’t leave the poor girl on the doorstep. Bring her in,” her mother said.
Charlie blushed furiously and closed her eyes resignedly. “And so it begins.” She opened her eyes and looked at Hazaar. “Are you sure about this? It could be pretty awful.”
Nightingale Page 9
