Write Your Own Script

by A. L. Brooks

  Tomorrow. Maybe tomorrow I’ll head over there and apologise.

  For now, she planned on nothing more challenging for her day than a soak in the big bath that took up most of her bathroom, with another one of the books she’d brought. And a glass of champagne on the side, of course.

  She’d just reached the track that encircled the lake when a brown…something shot out of the woods to her left, tearing its way towards her across the tufty grass alongside the driveway that led to her cottage. Fearing it was something with sharp teeth that would have no compunction about attacking her in broad daylight, Tamsyn squealed in fright and tried to quicken her pace. The creature barked, and her legs stopped moving just as her stomach flipped.

  Gizmo. Shit.

  He reached her a few seconds later and hopped around her, his front paws resting on her knees each time he did so, his barking giving way to excited little yelps and yips. Tamsyn looked up, knowing that if Gizmo was here, that could only mean one thing.

  “Hi,” Maggie said from a few feet away, her voice subdued but carrying on the still air around them. “Gizmo! Get down. Come here.” She slapped a hand against her thigh and Gizmo immediately dropped his ears and ran back to her, sitting at her feet and gazing first at her, then at Tamsyn, then back again. “Sorry,” Maggie continued. “I didn’t realise you were what had got him so excited—I just assumed it was a squirrel or rat.”

  “Rat?” Tamsyn squeaked, cold horror washing over her.

  Maggie tilted her head, a faint smile on her lips. “Yes, rat. There are rats all over the place.”

  “Oh, God.” Tamsyn’s skin crawled and she shuddered, which caused the sack of kindling to shift in her arms.

  “Country rats,” Maggie said, sighing. “Nice, country rats. Not the vermin that live in sewers in the city.”

  “Whatever.” A rat was a rat as far as Tamsyn was concerned. How could Maggie be so calm about them?

  Maggie bent down to attach Gizmo’s lead to his collar. “Well, sorry again for startling you.”

  Without another word she turned and led Gizmo away. They had only gone a few paces before a wave of guilt and…something else…swamped Tamsyn, and her legs began moving almost of their own accord.

  “Wait!”

  Maggie glanced back over her shoulder but didn’t stop walking.

  “Maggie, please.” Tamsyn hurried as best she could with her arms full. Bits from the top of the sack started flying out in all directions but she couldn’t care less. Let the birds have them. She caught up at last with Maggie, who had finally slowed her pace. Tamsyn walked around to stand in front of her, waiting until Maggie eventually lifted her head and met her gaze. Her face was scrunched into a frown, her eyes narrowed. “Can I talk to you? Inside?” Tamsyn jerked her head towards her cottage. “Please?”

  Maggie sighed. “I’d rather not. I’ve got things to do.”

  Tamsyn’s stomach lurched. “Um, okay. How about—”

  “I need to go,” Maggie said, snapping her fingers to bring Gizmo to heel before walking away.

  Shit.

  “Maggie, I’m sorry! I really am.” Tamsyn’s words were lost in the cold air between them.

  Chapter 10

  Tamsyn stepped her way carefully along the wooden dock that stretched into the lake. The boards seemed sturdy enough, but hell, if she ended up plunging into the cold water below it would at least wake her up. What a dreadful night.

  She reached the end of the dock and gazed out over the still water. The ducks were on patrol again, but when they saw she had nothing to offer paddled away as fast as they’d approached.

  The whole scene was bucolic, but her anguish over her brief and unsatisfying interaction with Maggie yesterday wasn’t quelled by the beauty around her. Hurting Maggie was the last thing she’d wanted to do. And depriving herself of Maggie’s company by being such an idiot pained her. She glanced over at Maggie’s cottage. Should I go over? Prostrate myself on her doorstep until she lets me in?

  She shook her head. God, no. The last thing she wanted was for Maggie to talk to her out of pure pity.

  A bark sounded from behind her and moments later Gizmo rocketed down the boards towards her, his ears pressed back, his tongue lolling. Tamsyn had never imagined she’d be happy to see a dog bounding towards her. She looked beyond him and saw Maggie standing at the start of the dock, her hands stuffed into her coat pockets, her expression unreadable from this distance.

  Gizmo jumped and yipped, and Tamsyn smiled. “Hey, dog.”

  “Gizmo!” Maggie called in a tired voice.

  Dropping back down to all fours, Gizmo merely looked back at Maggie.

  Wondering if it would work, Tamsyn said, “Come on,” and walked back down the dock. Gizmo trotted along beside her, tail held high.

  “Little shit,” Maggie muttered, and Tamsyn couldn’t help the chuckle that rumbled out of her throat.

  When Tamsyn reached Maggie, Gizmo trotted over to his mum and sat down beside her. Maggie looked down at him, shaking her head.

  “Hi,” Tamsyn tried.

  Raising her head, Maggie smiled wanly. “Hey.”

  “It’s a cold one.”

  “It is.” Maggie pulled her hands from her pockets and wrapped her arms around herself.

  “Can we talk?” Tamsyn blurted. “I really want to talk about it. About the other night.”

  Maggie closed her eyes for a moment, then shrugged. “Okay.”

  It wasn’t resounding, but it was a yes, so Tamsyn took it as a win.

  “We can go to my cottage. It’s ever so slightly nearer.” Tamsyn risked a smile and was relieved when one corner of Maggie’s mouth lifted.

  “Sure. Giz, come on.”

  Maggie turned and took the gravel path that led left to Tamsyn’s cottage. Gizmo hesitated, eyes on Tamsyn until she fell into step beside them.

  Tamsyn delved into her jacket for the key to the cottage as they approached the front step. It was one of those proper old-fashioned iron keys, and every time she used it, it made her smile.

  When she pushed the door open, Gizmo, now off his lead, shot into the cottage, his tail held high as he marched down the hallway like he owned the place.

  “Gizmo!” Maggie sounded horrified.

  “He’s okay. Let him be.” Tamsyn smiled at her, and was pleased when Maggie’s face relaxed further. “He’s kind of growing on me, so he’s welcome to make himself at home.”

  Now Maggie’s face broke out into a genuine, wide smile that was like the sun breaking through from behind a cloud, and it lifted Tamsyn’s mood even more.

  They stared at each other for a few moments, both smiling, before Maggie looked away and followed Gizmo into the cottage. Tamsyn walked in behind her, pushing the door shut once she was inside.

  “First things first, let me get a fire going. Is that okay?” She turned to face Maggie, who had perched on an arm of the sofa, still wrapped up in her coat and scarf. Tamsyn frowned. “Would you like to take that off?” She pointed at the coat. “Make yourself at home too?”

  Gizmo had flopped onto the rug in front of the armchair, clearly very happy with his surroundings and much more comfortable in them, it would seem, than his owner. Maggie’s gaze flitted around the room before finally settling back on Tamsyn.

  “Okay,” she said, at last, shrugging. But she did at least stand and remove her coat and scarf, laying them on the back of the sofa. She cleared her throat. “Fancy a hot drink?”

  Tamsyn’s stomach performed a neat little backflip of joy. “That would be lovely. Peppermint tea for me, please.” She smiled at Maggie, who nodded and left the room.

  Okay, so far so good.

  Bending to the fire, Tamsyn assessed what was needed and raked away some of the previous fire’s ashes before carefully pulling out a few handfuls of kindling to start setting a fresh fire. Sh
e worked quickly, the chill in the cottage already seeping into her bones. She was aware of her audience; Gizmo watched her every move. Sounds from the kitchen told her a brew was on its way, and a minute later she heard Maggie’s footfalls behind her. She glanced round and smiled as Maggie placed two steaming mugs onto coasters on the coffee table.

  “Perfect. Thank you,” Tamsyn said over her shoulder, smiling again as Maggie met her eye.

  The fire took quickly, and well, and soon orange and yellow flames were licking all over the logs she’d placed on top of the kindling, and warmth started to creep into the room. Before sitting next to Maggie on the sofa, Tamsyn grabbed both their coats and hung them up in the hallway. When she returned, Gizmo had taken up station in front of the fire, laying on his side with his belly facing the flames.

  “He’s not stupid, that dog, is he?” Tamsyn chuckled, then eased onto the sofa, next to Maggie but careful to ensure there was space between them.

  Maggie snorted. “Not when it comes to open fires, no. Trust me, he makes up for it in other areas.”

  “Thanks for the tea.” Tamsyn knew she was repeating herself, but a bout of nerves crept up and she suddenly didn’t know what else to say. Which was stupid, because she had so much to say. And even more stupid when she thought about all the great stages she’d spoken from in her career, in front of hundreds of people. How could an audience of one reduce her to this bumbling mess?

  “So, you wanted to talk about it?” Maggie’s tone was muted as she reached for her tea.

  “Um. Well.” Oh classy, Tamsyn. Great start. Metaphorically slapping herself about the head, she cleared her throat and tried again. “I wanted to apologise to you. Properly. The way I left the other night was… Well, it was beyond rude. I’m not normally so callous.”

  “Oh,” Maggie said, her tone biting. “Lucky me.”

  “What? No, wait, sorry. That came out completely wrong.” Tamsyn groaned and pushed her hands through her hair. “Maggie, I… That night was incredible. You and I…”

  “What? You and I what?” Maggie glared, her hazel eyes a darker colour than Tamsyn remembered, her cheeks flushed. She looked…gorgeous. “We fucked, Tamsyn. That’s about all it was, right? Sure, you could have been a little nicer in the way you left, but hey, you’d already made it perfectly clear nothing else was on offer, so why are we even having this conversation?”

  The words were sharp, as was the tone, and Tamsyn winced even as her ire rose. “Look, I’m aware that I’ve made quite a mess of our interactions these last couple of days, but I haven’t done that deliberately. I am trying to apologise. I believe I have upset you, and you’ve every right to be, but the least you could do is play nice when I’m trying to make amends for that!”

  Maggie opened her mouth, then closed it again. She shook her head and looked upwards. “You’re right,” she murmured. “Sorry.”

  Tamsyn sighed. “You don’t have anything to apologise for. I’m the one who’s been a complete bitch.”

  “Not a complete one,” Maggie said over the top of her mug, her eyes glinting.

  Barking out a laugh, Tamsyn reached for her own mug. “Fair enough.” She took a sip of hot tea, and revelled in the glow as it slipped down her throat. In front of the fire, Gizmo stretched and snuffled.

  They sat in silence for a couple of minutes, drinking their tea, watching the fire. The light outside was fading fast, but the glow from the fire was enough that Tamsyn didn’t feel the need to move from her cosy spot to flick the lamps on.

  “So,” Maggie said eventually, “you managed to get kindling.”

  Tamsyn sniggered. “Yes, went up to the main house and got handed that sack you saw me with yesterday. I nearly fell over when Mrs French shoved it into my arms.”

  “It wasn’t that heavy, was it?”

  “No, just bulky and awkward to carry. And she’s a bit, um, forceful. Must be all these years living in the country.”

  Maggie laughed. “Not the sort of person you meet every day, I’m guessing?”

  “Hah, definitely not. I’m amazed she and Carmen are related. They’re poles apart.”

  “Carmen?”

  “Oh, sorry. Carmen is my agent. Mrs French is her aunt. That’s how I ended up here—Carmen knew her aunt rented out these cottages and knew how secluded they were. Luckily for me, this one was free for a couple of weeks.”

  “Yeah, she told me she doesn’t normally open this early but when I inquired and said I’d pay for a month, I think she realised it was easy money.”

  “A month?” Tamsyn’s voice betrayed her disbelief. “You’re prepared to hide up here for a month?”

  Maggie chuckled. “You make it sound like a prison sentence.” She sighed. “I needed a proper break. I think I mentioned to you that I’ve been experiencing writer’s block?” Tamsyn nodded, and she continued, “Yeah, well that’s only part of it. I’ve become…disillusioned with the whole thing. I’ve been lucky to write full time for a while now, which I thought would be my dream life, but it hasn’t turned out that way.” She shook her head. “After being so successful with my first two books, the pressure to write more of equal quality has been way more intense than I anticipated. I sort of burned out, earlier this year, and agreed with my publisher that a break might do me good.” She shrugged. “So here I am.”

  “Wow. I don’t mean this to sound condescending at all, but I had no idea an author’s life could be so stressful.”

  Maggie’s smile was wan. “I suppose it’s like any creative life—if things are flowing everything’s wonderful. When they’re not…”

  “True. I’ve had a few times in my career when I’ve sat down at the end of a long shoot and wondered just what the hell I’m doing. I mean, I spend my entire life pretending to be someone I’m not, and sometimes it all just seems so…daft.”

  “Oh, but come on, some of the roles you’ve played have been so important! Samantha in Blue Lights sent such an important message about women in power, about their capabilities and strength. You didn’t get the BAFTA for nothing, you know.” Maggie nudged her with a shoulder, sparking a glow inside Tamsyn.

  “Thank you,” she said quietly, unable to stop herself from gazing at Maggie, drinking in her beauty, the serious expression on her face that lent such a thrilling intensity to her features.

  “Well,” Maggie said, her voice husky. “It’s true.”

  Don’t kiss her. No matter how bloody gorgeous she looks right now, do not—

  Maggie’s lips were warm from her tea, her tongue even more so. She moaned softly as Tamsyn’s tongue traced over her top lip before plunging back inside her mouth. Then, in the next moment, Maggie pulled back, her eyes wide.

  “What the—? What are you doing?” She didn’t look as outraged as she sounded, but even so, Tamsyn sat back, her own shock careening around her brain.

  Yes, Tamsyn, what are you doing?

  “I’m… I was going to say I’m sorry, but actually, do you know what? I’m not.” She inched closer, and noted that Maggie didn’t pull away. “I was an idiot to walk away from you the other night. A complete and utter idiot.”

  “So?” Maggie’s voice was only just above a whisper. “I’m pretty sure everything you’ve said still holds true. You can’t offer anything more than a fling, right?”

  Tamsyn sighed but knew that she had to be honest. “Yes, true.” She paused. “How would you feel if that’s what we did?”

  Maggie blinked. “You mean, just say right now that that’s all we’re doing? Do this for however long you’re here and when you leave, that’s it—goodbye?”

  Tamsyn’s stomach dropped. It sounded like she’d pushed things too far again, that her honesty, despite being well-intentioned, had shot her in the foot. Oh, well, she’d tried and—

  “Okay.” Maggie swallowed. “Okay. No strings. No expectations. Right?”

  “
Er, right. Yes.” She stared. “Seriously?”

  Maggie shrugged. “I have no clue where I’m going to be in a month’s time, never mind you. I have no clue how our lives would fit together even if we did try to have anything more, and it’s very clear that’s not something you would consider anyway. So yeah, why not? I mean,” she said, with a gentle smirk, “have you seen you? I’d be the craziest lesbian on the planet to turn down the chance of more of what we did to each other.”

  Tamsyn guffawed, and rocked in her seat. “Well,” she said, reaching for Maggie, “when you put it that way.”

  Maggie’s mouth on hers undid her in so many ways. Her limbs trembled; her stomach filled with butterflies. There was heat, and softness mixed with a hunger that took her breath away. She was naked faster than she could have imagined, with Maggie’s still fully-clothed body pressing her into the sofa even as her fingers slid up the inside of Tamsyn’s thigh and slipped into her pussy. Tamsyn gasped as each thrust sent a myriad of pleasurable sensations thrumming through her. Maggie’s mouth left hers and her tongue swirled around Tamsyn’s left nipple, teasing it to hardness, then nipping and sucking to send exquisite pulses down to Tamsyn’s clit.

  “Maggie, please, I need to come.”

  Maggie’s only response was to bite down on the nipple; her fingers kept up their steady pace, moving in and out of Tamsyn with a rhythm that ensured her pleasure kept rolling on without finding a peak.

  “Oh, Maggie. Please…” She wasn’t above begging, not when she felt this good, this owned.

  Raising her head, her eyes as dark as burnished walnut, Maggie whispered, “Touch yourself. I want to watch.”

  The words were nearly enough on their own. Tamsyn’s arousal leaped, and she couldn’t slink her hand quick enough between her own legs. Not surprisingly, her clit was rock hard, and she groaned as she rubbed two fingers over its peak. Maggie, head down now as she watched the show, was breathing heavily, each exhalation accompanied by a soft moan.