by A. L. Brooks
“That’s okay, there’s nothing needed. I thought we could head to the coast first, have a romp on the sand, then see if we can find somewhere to sell us some sinful takeaway food like fish and chips for lunch, and hit the supermarket on the way home.” Maggie looked at Tamsyn with a hesitant expression. “How does that sound?”
Like my diet coach would have a heart attack. “Bloody perfect.”
Maggie’s pleased grin was totally worth the calories.
After settling Gizmo into the back seat, strapped in to his own doggy seatbelt, Maggie climbed into the driver’s side. “Ready?”
Tamsyn turned to look at her. She’d by lying if she said she wasn’t nervous, but when Maggie gently squeezed her thigh, she knew she didn’t have to say anything about the turmoil raging through her. “Okay, let’s go,” she said quietly, and jammed on her sunglasses.
The drive was an hour of uneventful normalcy. Tamsyn found herself relaxing and chatting as they cruised up the main road towards the coast. Things slowed down a little when they hit the small towns and villages that dotted the north part of Norfolk, and twice they lumbered along behind tractors until Maggie could find a decent stretch to pass them. Maggie was right; it was dead quiet out here in the middle of April, and that extended to the beach car park they pulled into a little after eleven. Only three other spaces were occupied, and none of the vehicles contained people. Tamsyn pulled her thick beanie hat on before exiting the car anyway; her hair was already tied and clipped back in a tight bun, and with the hat on, barely a strand was on display. With that, the big sunglasses, and as Maggie had advised, no make-up, she would only be recognisable by someone who was a keen fan and standing within a couple of feet. As they had no intention of letting anyone get that close, she was as anonymous as she was ever going to be.
“Here, can you take him for a minute while I just get my bag?” Maggie handed her Gizmo’s lead and walked away before Tamsyn could protest.
She held on tightly, staring down at Gizmo, who simply stared back up at her. He didn’t try to run away, or dance circles around her until she was tied up in his lead. He just…stared.
“He trusts you,” Maggie said quietly, and Tamsyn looked up, startled. Maggie was leaning against the side of the car, watching the interaction between Tamsyn and her dog. “And he, well, he really likes you, so he’s being on his best behaviour for you.”
Tamsyn looked back down at him, and this time he shuffled just a couple of steps nearer, then sat down slowly, right by her feet. The affection she felt in that moment was not an emotion she was sure she’d ever experienced. She’d never had pets growing up, and had never allowed herself to get even vaguely this close to another human being, never mind a dog. Well, until this week, of course. It wasn’t just the dog who had her experiencing a new range of emotions.
She raised her head and met Maggie’s gaze. What she saw there made her stomach flip in a way that was not entirely unpleasant. She couldn’t look away, even if she wanted to. Her mouth suddenly dry, she searched for the words that would make something of this moment, something more than it already was, but they wouldn’t come. What exactly did she want to say? Maggie, I have to leave soon but I don’t want to. Can we…? Could they what?
“Well,” she said at last, her voice croaking until she cleared her throat. “I’m honoured.” Tearing her gaze away from Maggie’s hazel eyes, she crouched down and ruffled Gizmo’s ears. “Thank you, Gizmo. The feeling is mutual.” She glanced up at Maggie with those last words, and just at the moment when she wondered if Maggie could read the double-meaning, she knew she did. There was warmth in Maggie’s eyes coupled with resignation. Yes, she knew. And she, too, knew it was for the best. Tamsyn’s stomach flipped again, only this time it left her feeling queasy.
“So,” Maggie said, pushing away from the car, looking away from Tamsyn and towards the path that must lead to the beach. “Shall we?” She held out her hand and Tamsyn dropped Gizmo’s lead into it. Maggie chuckled. “Actually, it was your hand I wanted to take, but hey…” She shrugged.
“You…you want to hold my hand?” The thought was strangely thrilling, and before Tamsyn could second-guess herself, she took back Gizmo’s lead with one hand and entwined the fingers of the other with Maggie’s. It wasn’t that warm a morning, but the mere occasion of standing in a public space holding another woman’s hand spread a remarkable heat throughout Tamsyn’s entire being.
“You okay?” Maggie tilted her head, looking quizzical.
Tamsyn chuckled. “I…I’ve never done this before.” She shook her head. “This appears to be a week of many firsts for me.”
Maggie visibly swallowed. “You’ve never held hands before?”
“With a woman in public, no.” She smiled, and leaned forward to give Maggie a brief kiss. “Never done that, either,” she said with a smirk, feeling about ten feet tall all of a sudden. Maggie’s sharp bark of a laugh made her grin from ear-to-ear. Between them, Gizmo let out a little yip.
“Well, I think we should get you on that beach before you get completely out of control.” Maggie laughed again and tugged on Tamsyn’s hand. “Come on.”
“Will he… I mean, should I…?” Tamsyn glanced down at Gizmo, then at the lead in her other hand.
“Like I said, he trusts you. He’ll let you walk him.”
Tamsyn shook her head but walked on anyway, fully prepared to hand the lead over to Maggie when Gizmo completely ignored her tug on the leather. To her utter bafflement, not only did he start walking, but he positioned himself directly along her outer side, trotting at a pace that kept him even with her.
She caught Maggie’s smirk and muttered, “Smart ass,” under her breath—but loud enough for Maggie to hear, and laugh loudly in response.
They trotted down a half-rotten kind of boardwalk, in between tufts of sturdy coastal grass, and then the beach was before them. Tamsyn emitted a low whistle of amazement. It was so huge, she couldn’t even see the sea. Level, damp sand stretched as far as the eye could see, both left and right as well as in front of her. Here and there, channels cut by the retreating tide glistened in the sun as the slivers of water reflected the bright light. At various points in the distance, flocks of unidentifiable birds dabbled in or around the channels, their beaks digging deep before emerging with who knew what tasty morsel. It was like something out of a watercolour painting, and it brought a deep smile to Tamsyn’s face.
“Tide’s out,” Maggie proffered. “We’ve got about an hour before it comes back in, but that should be plenty of time for this one to run his legs off.” She pointed at Gizmo, who was now straining at his lead, his nose twitching crazily. “You can let him off now. It’s a dog-friendly stretch of beach.”
Still gazing in wonder at their surroundings, Tamsyn did as she was told, unclipping the lead and pocketing it as Gizmo raced away, his excited barks carrying back to them on the stiff offshore breeze. The wind whipped at Tamsyn’s face and she relished it. Maggie had been right—a dose of sea air would indeed do her good. She found herself wishing she was as fit as Gizmo and could tear up and down the sand with the same abandon.
Maggie laughed at something Gizmo did, and Tamsyn turned to face her. Her smile was radiant, and even though her eyes were hidden by sunglasses, the crinkles around them were still visible, and her joy was obvious. Gizmo was racing away from them before skidding to a halt, his claws spraying up clouds of sand into the air around him, then turning on a sixpence and sprinting back to them, his tongue flapping at the side of his mouth. As soon as he reached them, he’d swerve around them and start the process again.
“Your dog is insane,” Tamsyn said, laughing as she watched.
“I know! Isn’t it great?”
“It really is.” Tamsyn shook her head—the simple joy of watching a dog go slightly loopy on an empty beach, with no one to pester her, or demand something from her, was wonderful.
Maggie caught her eye and tilted her head. “What?”
Tamsyn strolled over to her, pulling her hands out of her pockets so she could cup Maggie’s face, and draw her in, and kiss her. It wasn’t passionate, or particularly long-lasting, but it made her quiver from head to toe. God help her, she was falling for this woman, and in the next couple of days she’d have to say goodbye to her.
“You okay?” Maggie murmured. “Not that I didn’t enjoy that, but you seem…” She waved a hand in the air, clearly searching for the right word. “Wistful.”
Tamsyn nodded, not trusting her voice given the size of the lump in her throat.
“Want to just walk on the beach?”
To answer, Tamsyn merely reached for Maggie’s hand, tugged her round, and led them off at a strolling pace across the sand. Gizmo had calmed down a tad, and was now trying to sniff out some of the creatures who had buried themselves in the wet sand as the tide retreated. Luckily for them, he was crap at digging them up.
Tamsyn and Maggie walked, hand in hand, in a meandering path towards him, not speaking, simply…being. It was enough. Tamsyn still didn’t trust herself to speak, worried about what she’d blurt out if she did. There’d be nothing to gain from letting Maggie know just how much trouble she was having knowing their parting was rapidly approaching. She ought to back off, spend the last couple of days of her break on her own, make sure she’d done all of that thinking she’d promised everyone. But the thought depressed her too much, whereas the alternative—spending as much of that time with Maggie as possible—made her steps feel lighter, and her face break out into an involuntary smile. Screw it; if she was going to crash and burn, she might as well make the most of it.
“So,” Maggie said a few minutes later, “do you think this break has done what you needed it to? You mentioned having trouble on the set of a film, and needing some space to think.”
Tamsyn swallowed. She didn’t want to lie to Maggie, but neither did she want to reveal more than was sensible. “Yes, I think it has. I mean, I’ve pretty much decided I just have to grit my teeth and get back on set. Learn to work with the person with whom I had the…spat. It’s not like he’s the first asshole I’ve worked with,” she said with a tight grin.
Maggie chuckled. “I can imagine. You don’t have to give me details, but what made him such an asshole?”
“Oh, the usual. Ageism. I’m battling it more and more these days and it’s so tiresome. This is the twenty-first century and yet there are still dinosaurs behind the camera on way too many films. And in the top positions in the production companies.”
“Really? I thought with all the new women directors coming in, things would have improved somewhat?”
“Sure, if you’re lucky enough to work on a film or TV programme directed by one of them. But they’re still so thin on the ground, which means it’s the men you generally have to deal with. And they have very different ideas about the value of a woman in her fifties, and what roles she should play.”
“Seriously?”
“Oh, yes. Did you ever watch The First Wives Club?”
“Yes, of course. I love that movie!”
“Remember the scene where Goldie Hawn’s character is in the chair, begging her doctor to pump her lips full of God knows what?”
Maggie laughed. “Yes!”
“I always remember the key line she had in that scene. ‘There are only three ages for women in Hollywood. Babe, district attorney, and Driving Miss Daisy.’” Tamsyn sighed. “That was over twenty years ago and it’s still true today. I’m way too old for babe, allegedly too old for district attorney, and thankfully, still years away from Driving Miss Daisy. The trouble is, there is nothing else in between, or not very much anyway, and most male directors only want to work with the babes and young DAs.”
“Shit.”
“Yes. Shit indeed.”
Gizmo ran up to them, panting heavily, and stood with them looking out over the wet expanse of the beach.
“I take it you still want to do this. Acting, I mean. Never thought of taking a seat behind the camera? Give up on the stress of fighting for your roles all the time and do something different?”
Maggie was clearly asking the question in all seriousness, the frown marring her forehead emphasising that, so Tamsyn held back her snort. Her, direct?
She shook her head. “No, I belong in front of the camera. Yes, it is stressful, but it’s always been fairly cut-throat.” She chuckled, but even she heard how lacking in warmth the sound was. “I’m a big girl. I can look after myself.”
“I wasn’t suggesting you couldn’t,” Maggie said, a little sharply. “I was thinking more that you could possibly achieve more…good, behind the camera. If not as a director, then maybe as a producer. If more women like you, with your status and reputation, started running things, maybe change could come quicker.” She stared at Tamsyn, then swallowed when Tamsyn remained quiet. “Sorry, just my opinion.”
“I…I’m not mad at you. I just never thought of it that way.” Tamsyn shrugged, feeling helpless. “Maybe I’m too selfish.”
Maggie shook her head. “Not selfish. Just…used to this life, to the battles. It’s what you’ve always done, so perhaps it hasn’t occurred to you that you could follow an alternative path.” She sighed, waving her free hand in the air. “Look, it’s none of my business. Ignore me.” Before Tamsyn could interject, she plunged on. “I’m getting hungry for those fish and chips. What do you say?”
Maggie was probably right to end the conversation, to return them to fun and frivolity. But her words, her ideas, were still ricocheting around Tamsyn’s brain, and she knew that when she had some quiet time to herself again, they would return.
“Okay,” she said, forcing into her voice some cheerfulness she wasn’t really feeling, “take me to fish and chips.” She grinned. “God, I haven’t had them for years. This is going to be great.”
Laughing, Maggie tugged on her hand and quickened their pace as they strode back up the beach, Gizmo trotting along between them.
Chapter 14
Tamsyn wiped the grease off her fingers with a paper napkin and sighed happily.
“That,” she said, pointing at the decimated remains of her lunch, “was perfect.”
Maggie grinned, then tucked the last of her chips into her mouth and chewed while humming in what Tamsyn could only assume was contentment, given the way her eyes sparkled.
Scrunching up the paper wrappings that had until only minutes ago held a large piece of cod in batter and a ridiculous portion of chips, she shook her head. If someone had told her two weeks ago she’d be sitting on a hard, worn out wooden bench overlooking a Norfolk beach with a fish and chips lunch filling her belly, she’d have thought they were crazy. Never mind the fact that she was doing so with a beautiful, thoughtful woman next to her, and a crazy cute dog at her feet. She stood up quickly, her emotions spinning all over the place again. It was as if something was unravelling inside her, she thought as she headed for the nearest rubbish bin to deposit the ball of greasy paper. Something that until very recently had seemed super-strong and immune to anything remotely resembling genuine feeling.
“Hey, what about mine?” Maggie called, looking affronted until she smiled while pointing at her own screwed up ball of rubbish.
“Forgive me, your ladyship,” Tamsyn said, with a flourish of a bow, “I was not aware that you were incapable of walking the, oh, three yards to this receptacle.”
Maggie stuck out her tongue and threw the ball at Tamsyn, who only managed to catch it on the third attempt, much to her embarrassment. Gizmo, thinking this was a new game, leaped up and tried to snag the ball with his way-too-small mouth just as Tamsyn finally took hold of it.
“Let go, you little bugger,” she muttered, laughing when he stepped back, looking peeved. She slam-dunked the bag into the bin, then returned to sit beside Mag
gie, snuggling up to her in the face of the cool breeze.
“Tide’s turning,” Maggie said. “Look.” She pointed, and sure enough, in the distance, a line of wavelets was now progressing slowly up the sand towards them, scattering the feeding birds into small flocks that swept away from the edge and then landed again two feet further up the beach from where they’d started. It was mesmerising, and watching it in silence with Maggie close beside her brought all those emotions swimming back to the surface.
God, what is this? Why am I being so…mushy all of a sudden? For a brief moment she pondered if it was her menopause to blame, but knew that was the easy target. No, it was nothing to do with hormones and everything to do with what their time together had meant to her. She cast a quick glance at Maggie. What this woman meant to her.
The trilling of her phone made all three of them jump. Gizmo, who until then had been snoozing on the sandy boardwalk at their feet, sat up and barked. Maggie pressed a hand to her chest, half grinning, half scowling as she said, “Jesus, that scared the shit out of me.”
Tamsyn murmured an apology and stood up; the caller ID showed Carmen’s office number.
“Hey.”
“Well, hello stranger.” Carmen’s tone was warm despite the sarcastic address.
Walking away from the bench, Tamsyn chuckled. “Now, you can’t tell me to shut myself away for thinking time and then complain when you don’t hear from me.”
Carmen snorted. “I suppose that’s true.” She paused. “So, how are you? Really?”
“I’m…good.” Which was true, so why did it make her feel so sad? “The break has definitely done me good. So, thank you for being right about that.”
“Yes!” Carmen exclaimed, and Tamsyn rolled her eyes, imagining Carmen fist-pumping at her desk.
“Okay, okay. Yes, you were right.”
Carmen’s laugh was gentle. “Well, that’s good. But, dare I ask, have you come to any decisions?”
“Yes, I have.” It was easier to say than she’d thought it would be; but after all, this was who she was and what she did. “I know I was wrong to storm off that set. I know he’s an asshole, but I also know this film is a great opportunity, and I’d be stupid not to finish it. I’m ready to get back, and soon.” Well, she was and she wasn’t, but Carmen didn’t need to know that.
