Nightingale

by Andrea Bramhall

  “It’s okay.” Charlie licked her lips. “I trust you.”

  Hazaar swallowed around the lump in her throat and the need to see Charlie’s eyes, to see the trust in them, burned through her. She pulled off the blindfold. Charlie blinked rapidly to refocus, then stared up at her, and Hazaar felt her heart swell to the point of bursting. There was more than trust radiating from Charlie’s eyes. She saw everything she had ever wanted, dreamed of, and wished for, shining up at her. She saw her future reflected from within Charlie’s soul, and she knew without doubt that Charlie loved her.

  It was the easiest and most natural thing she’d ever done as she slid slowly inside Charlie’s body. She waited until Charlie was ready and slowly stroked them both higher, the pressure building in her lower belly, screaming for release as Charlie wrapped her legs around her hips, her lips parted, but her gaze never faltering.

  “You are so beautiful,” Hazaar whispered as she pumped faster.

  “Hazaar.” Charlie’s voice was hoarse, cracking with emotion, desire, and need. “Please.”

  Hazaar drove harder, pushing them to the precipice before she whispered the words she never thought she’d say. “I love you.”

  It was enough.

  The admission toppled them both and cast Hazaar adrift on an ocean of orgasmic pleasure that rippled and tossed her upon the waves. Tears rolled slowly down Charlie’s face as their bodies bucked, wringing every last drop of pleasure from them.

  When Hazaar’s body stopped trembling, she wiped the moisture from Charlie’s face. “Did I hurt you?” She reached up and released the ties at Charlie’s wrists before slowly pulling out of her and discarding the harness over the side of the bed.

  Charlie shook her head and pulled Hazaar into a tight embrace. “Not really, no.”

  “Then why are you crying?”

  “I love you too.”

  Hazaar’s heart soared. “Move in with me, baby.” She felt Charlie take a deep breath and slowly release it before she answered.

  “I don’t think that’s the best thing to do, sweetheart.”

  “Why not?” All she wanted was for Charlie to be with her every day. She wanted to wake up beside her after having held her and made love with her all through the night. She wanted familiar evenings in the kitchen, cooking together, laughing, watching TV, or finishing their schoolwork. She wanted a life with Charlie. She loved her—they loved each other—why shouldn’t they have those things? Was it too much to ask?

  “Well, we’ve only been together for a few months now. In September, we’ll still only be talking about eight months. That’s pretty quick to be moving in together.”

  “But if it’s what we both want, then what’s wrong with that? I love you, Charlie. I want you to be here with me. I thought you’d want the same thing.”

  “You think I don’t want to be with you?”

  “That’s what it sounds like.”

  “Okay, tell me this then, Hazaar, what about your family? How do you see that working out? Me sliding down the drainpipe when they turn up is one thing when all I’ve got to do is take the clothes I arrived in. But living here means a lot more stuff around than I can carry with me.” She shook her head sadly. “Exactly what did you think you’d say to them?”

  Fuck! I didn’t even think about them. “I don’t know.”

  “Well, don’t you think that’s something we’d need to cover before we take a huge step like this?”

  Hazaar’s mind whirled. Charlie was right. They would need a reason for Charlie to be there, to stay there, when her family showed up. “Maybe if I told them I was thinking of taking in a lodger, and we used the wardrobe in the spare room for most stuff. I know it would be a little inconvenient, but it would be kind of like having your own personal dressing room too.”

  “And what would you tell them when they asked why you were taking in a lodger? You told me your dad gives you plenty of money so you couldn’t use the excuse of struggling financially.”

  “I could just say that you were my friend and that you needed somewhere to stay.”

  “Would they accept that?”

  Hazaar shrugged. “I don’t know. As far as I know, they’ve never suspected anything about my sexuality. So a girl moving in shouldn’t immediately set off alarm bells. But I don’t really know.”

  “Is it something you’re willing to risk at this point?”

  She captured her lips again. “I love you. Yes, I’m willing to risk it.” Hazaar looked at her, wishing that Charlie didn’t have cause to doubt her, but even as she spoke the words her heart demanded she say, her head was already waging a war about the consequences of her desires. “I know I’ve sprung this on you, so just think about it. You don’t need to make your mind up now. The offer is open-ended. Send in your application for halls. You can always change your mind later. Just promise me you’ll think about it. Please?”

  She knew she should let the subject drop. Just let the words and the request melt into the ether and forget they were ever mentioned, but she couldn’t. She was playing with fire.

  “I promise I’ll think about it.”

  And as she kissed the sweet smile upon Charlie’s face, she knew she was going to get burned.

  Chapter Thirteen

  Pakistan, today

  Hazaar hung up the phone and held a hand over her wildly beating heart. Why now? After all this time, why did fate tease her so mercilessly? For the past three years, she had dreamed of Charlie, of hearing her voice again.

  She could hear footsteps in the courtyard and knew it was Amira returning from the market. She had hoped for a little longer because there was so much more she needed to ask, to know. And now she only had more questions. What was Charlie doing in Pakistan? How had she ended up here? Was she looking for her? Hazaar laughed to herself. Don’t be a fool. She’ll have forgotten all about you by now, and for that you only have yourself to blame.

  She shook her head as emotions ransacked her and memories filled her mind. She pictured Charlie’s face and her beautiful smile. She heard her song and the sweetest laugh, and the tears she’d held back on the telephone ran down her cheeks. She wiped at them quickly and turned to leave the room, still in shock that the door to the office had been left unlocked and the telephone unattended.

  As she turned, she came face-to-face with Tazim. The tall, thin man was made even taller by the turban wound about his head, and his eyes burned fierce with hatred, anger, and malevolence.

  Her heart pounded in her chest, and her mouth went dry. “Abu.” Her voice cracked on the simple word. She cleared her throat and prayed that he had not been in the room long enough to have seen her emotional outburst. There would be too many questions to avoid and too many answers that she couldn’t give. She wished she could run, hide, but her mind didn’t seem to be working fast enough.

  “Abu, I saw the door was open, and I was making sure there was nothing—”

  She didn’t see him move, but the blow to her face spun her into the wall. Adrenaline surged through her body, and every muscle in her body prepared to run, but there was nowhere to run. There was no escape.

  “You lying whore.” He grabbed her hair and pulled her to face him. “I heard you, Maya.” The fist to her gut knocked the wind from her, and she struggled not to vomit. “Do you think I’m stupid?”

  She shook her head quickly. “No, Abu. No, I don’t.”

  “Shut up.” He dragged her out of the room and down the corridor. “You ungrateful bitch, we have given you everything.”

  She stumbled as he continued to drag her, and she fell to the ground and curled into a foetal position. He kicked her, the blow landing on her chest.

  “Please, Abu, I’m sorry—”

  “Sorry is not good enough.” He grabbed her hair again and dragged her along the tiled floor. She curled her fingers around his wrists to try to ease some of the pressure searing through her scalp. She tried to walk, to lift herself to her feet, but she couldn’t get any traction. She he
ard a door being opened and knew it was the door to the cellar. “You are lucky, Hazaar.” He yanked her to her feet and punched her in the face. She felt her lip split and blood filled her mouth. “I have business to attend to or I would deal with you now.”

  “Please, Abu, I didn’t—”

  He turned her toward the open door and pushed her down the steep stairs. She tried to grab for the rail, but it gave way beneath the force of her descent and she crashed down to the hard concrete floor. She tasted the rich iron tang of blood covering her tongue before darkness claimed her.

  Chapter Fourteen

  The North of England, then

  Music reverberated from the huge speakers that were on either side of the small stage at the front of the hall. A swarm of bodies moved together with a mass of arms, legs, and heads all dancing to the beat beneath the celebratory birthday banner stretched tight across the front of the room.

  “I can’t believe she’s eighteen.” Charlie’s mother wiped her eyes.

  “Time flies, doesn’t it?” Charlie grinned as she repeated the phrase her mother had said to her on many occasions.

  “Yes, it does.” Her mother sat back in her chair. “This is okay, isn’t it? She’s not too embarrassed?”

  Charlie looked around the hall her parents had rented for the party. It had been well decorated, and the DJ was good. There was a buffet table along the far wall, and the caterers had kept it well stocked throughout the evening. The bar was busy, and everyone was having a good time. She smiled and reached for her mother’s hand. “It’s a great party. And the only thing Flipper has to be embarrassed about is her dancing.”

  Her mother laughed with her as she pointed to Beth. The jerky style of jumping around that Beth was a fan of looked more like some kind of seizure to Charlie, but she wasn’t the only one on the dance floor doing it, so she sat back and enjoyed the entertainment.

  Her mother wrapped an arm around her shoulders. “Are you looking forward to going back to uni?”

  “Yeah. I’ve got some good classes this year, and I’m looking forward to working with Professor Swallen. He’s got really good connections to the Halle choir, so I’m hoping he might recommend me for an audition this year.”

  “Very nice. I’ll look for my tickets in the post.” Her mother laughed and hugged her close. “I’m so proud of you.”

  Charlie pulled back and frowned a little. “Why? I haven’t even talked him into getting me the audition yet.”

  “You will, and you’ll get a place. But I didn’t mean just that. I meant everything.”

  Charlie continued to frown, confused.

  “Getting yourself back on track after Gail. Getting into uni, learning to love again. Everything. You’re an amazing woman, Charlie, and I’m so proud of you.”

  Charlie didn’t want to tell her mum that most days she felt like a fraud. That she was terrified that the life she was building would come crashing down around her. Instead, she pulled her mum into a powerful hug and willed the tears to stay away. “I love you, Mum.”

  “I love you too, sweetheart.”

  Hazaar approached from the bar and held a drink out for Charlie. She motioned toward the dance floor. “I can’t believe that’s the same gawky sixteen-year-old I met when you first took me home to meet your parents.”

  “I know.” Charlie smiled. “Whoever would have thought you’d have put up with me this long?” She sipped her drink, and the need to dance, to forget her conversation with her mother and the doubts that lingered in her mind, overtook her. “Dance with me?”

  Hazaar allowed Charlie to pull her to the dance floor, and their bodies began to move together with the comfort of established lovers. Charlie twirled and turned, and the freedom of the music helped her to relax and enjoy the occasion more than the vodka in her drink. Hazaar’s body felt so good against hers, and her perfume danced along her senses until Charlie was drunk on the scent and feel of Hazaar moving in time with her. They were surrounded by Charlie’s family, their friends, and Charlie felt complete in a way she hadn’t experienced with Hazaar before. She felt like she was part of a couple, just like any other couple there.

  She leaned in and kissed Hazaar’s lips, then giggled when Hazaar blushed. “Sorry. I couldn’t resist.”

  “You’re a brazen woman, Charlie Porter.” Hazaar stole a quick peck. “But I love you anyway.”

  “Good, because you’re stuck with me.” Immediately afterward, Charlie wished she could pull the words back into her mouth, lock them up, and throw away the key. But she couldn’t. They were out there, hanging in the ether between them. A throwaway comment that belied the truth, a truth that had lingered between them for so long it was growing into a barrier between them. It was a wall that she was erecting in the hopes of protecting herself, but she knew she was a shoddy bricklayer, and there were gaps that were big enough for a whole army to walk through, let alone one woman who already owned her body, heart, and soul.

  “We never talk about the future, do we?” Hazaar tugged at her hand and led her out of the hall and into the cooling evening air. August had been warm, a barbeque summer that had turned green grass golden and scorched the earth bare, but the cloudless night brought a chill as Charlie stared at the stars and wished she hadn’t opened her mouth.

  “I’m sorry. It was a joke. A silly, stupid throwaway joke.” She gave a fake little smile and tried to walk past Hazaar. “Let’s just go back inside and enjoy the party, okay?”

  “Charlie, can we talk for a minute?” When Charlie didn’t look at her, Hazaar added, “Please?”

  “Look, it’s okay. Just forget I said anything.” She shrugged. “It was a stupid joke.”

  “Shut up.” Hazaar placed her finger to Charlie’s lips and smiled to soften the words. “Just listen.”

  Charlie folded her arms across her chest. She waited, well aware that she looked like a sulky teenager, but not even slightly tempted to give up her stubborn attitude.

  “You’re such a brat sometimes.” Hazaar snorted a tiny laugh. “Why do you never ask about the future?”

  Charlie felt the glare melt from her face as the pain settled in her gut once again. She couldn’t answer that question without breaking a promise she’d vowed to keep.

  “When we met, you were full of dreams and hopes and plans. You never talk about them anymore.”

  “Yes, I do,” Charlie said.

  “Not with me you don’t. Why do you never tell me your dreams, Charlie?”

  She closed her eyes. “This is a party, Hazaar. Beth’s eighteenth. This isn’t the time or the place for this.”

  “Why do you never ask about my dreams or plans or hopes?”

  “I’m going back into that room, and I’m going to enjoy the party.”

  “Just tell me.”

  “Hazaar, I really don’t want to talk about this now.”

  “Don’t you want to know? Don’t you love me anymore?”

  The plaintive note in Hazaar’s voice fractured something inside Charlie. The box she’d tried to keep fears in splintered, and they poured out. “I don’t ask because I don’t want to hear from your own lips that I might not be a part of your future.” She dropped her hands to her sides, her fists clenched tight. “I don’t allow myself to dream about our future because I’m scared we don’t have one. I love you more than I ever thought I could love someone. Especially after Gail. But because of Gail I won’t allow myself to picture a future for myself. Because it hurts too much to picture a future without you in it.”

  Hazaar gently took hold of her fists. “Why are you so sure that our future won’t be together?”

  Charlie threw her head back and laughed bitterly as she yanked her hands away from Hazaar’s. “Because we’re almost two years down the line, Hazaar, and nothing has changed.” She turned away from her and tried to control the burning anger that scorched through her blood. She wanted to scream and shout. She wanted to put her fist through a wall at how unfair it all was, at how scared Hazaar still
was, but it wouldn’t change anything. “Nothing.” She pulled in a deep breath and tried to hear over the blood pounding in her ears. “I love you, but I can’t ask for your future, Hazaar.”

  “And what if I want to give it to you?”

  “Is it yours to give?”

  “It is if I’m brave enough to take it.”

  “I guess that’s the million-dollar question then, isn’t it?” Charlie turned to face her again, and the sadness in Hazaar’s eyes tore at her, shredding her resolve. She crossed the distance between them and pulled her into her arms. “I’m sorry. I promised I’d never put pressure on you. I’m sorry.” She kissed her forehead and backed away. “I’m going to go back inside to the party. Are you coming?”

  Hazaar nodded. “Yeah, I just need a minute.”

  Charlie squeezed her hand and pulled the door to the club open. She went straight to the bar. Fucking pathetic. You promise not to push, to let her make her own decisions, and then you try to pressure her into making promises that you need to hear. Nice.

  She swallowed the shot of vodka and ordered another. So fucking selfish. You know where that path leads.

  She was swallowing her third shot when Hazaar wrapped her fingers around her arm and tugged until they were face to face.

  “I need time to figure everything out with my parents. And that isn’t going to be easy.”

  Charlie turned back to the bar and signalled for another drink. “Look, forget it. I said I’m sorry. It doesn’t matter.”

  “Yes, it does.” Hazaar pulled her back to face her again. “I need you to know that I love you, Charlie. And as difficult as I know it’s going to be, I can’t see my life, my future, without you in it.”

  “Hazaar, you don’t have to say this.”

  “Yes, I do. I asked you once before, and I meant it then, but you were right. We weren’t ready, but I am—we are—ready now. We need to know. If we’re to stand a chance, if we’re going to build this future together, then we have to start somewhere. Move in with me?”