by A. L. Brooks
She stood for a moment on the pavement simply breathing. Sometimes, when she had to suffer such evenings, she wondered just why she did what she did.
I need a walk.
Not caring which way she headed, knowing she had her trusty Google maps app to rescue her if she got lost, she turned left, which seemed to lead her away from the strip of restaurants and bars and into an area a tad quieter. She looked around as she walked, not that familiar with this part of town. Somewhere behind her was Goodge Street station, and somewhere ahead, therefore, was Euston. Maybe I’ll head in roughly that direction and catch a cab from there.
She turned the next corner, and her steps paused. She was at the top of the street where Ash’s tattoo studio was located. How funny. She hadn’t realised she was that close.
She wondered how Ash was. She’d thought about her a few times during the week and, of course, had discussed her over breakfast with Felicity. I still can’t believe Felicity went back to see Ash. How embarrassing! Although, she had to admit, she could definitely understand Felicity’s observation that Ash had a certain presence about her. For one moment she considered walking down to see if Ash was still at work but then shook off the thought. Ridiculous idea.
After crossing the street, she turned right and found herself in another busy road lined with pubs. However, now the noise didn’t bother her so much, so she pushed on, sidestepping a big group of people outside one pub and—
“Ooof! ”
Carmen walked into someone—or they walked into her—and bounced back off them. She swung both arms out to balance herself and with some windmilling managed to prevent tumbling onto her backside.
“Jesus, sorry!” a voice said.
She looked up—straight into the deep brown eyes of Ash.
“Carmen! Wow.” Ash looked her up and down. “Are you okay? I didn’t see you. I was too busy chatting and—”
“I’m fine.” Carmen smiled at her; Ash looked mortified at having nearly sent her flying. “Nothing damaged.”
“Thank God.” Ash exhaled loudly.
Standing next to Ash was a tall, attractive woman, maybe in her early thirties, with short, bleached blonde hair and stunning blue eyes.
“Oh, hey, this is Hayley.”
“Nice to meet you.” Carmen shook hands with the woman.
“And you.” Hayley smiled.
“You heading out or home?” Ash asked.
“Home. Just been to a client party a few streets that way.” Carmen gestured over her shoulder. “You?”
“We’re just off out.”
They stared at each other for a few moments. Carmen couldn’t help drinking in Ash’s features; her hair, in particular, looked amazing, and her entire demeanour was relaxed and carefree. Lucky her .
Hayley tugged on Ash’s arm and leaned in to whisper something in her ear.
“Oh, yeah. True,” Ash said to her, then looked back at Carmen. “Sorry, we need to go.”
“Oh, of course! Sorry.” Carmen stepped back. “It was nice to see you again. And nice to meet you,” she offered to Hayley.
“Same. Have a nice rest of the evening.”
Carmen watched them go, her curiosity piqued. Was that Ash’s partner? They weren’t holding hands, but that didn’t necessarily mean anything. Many couples didn’t, especially gay ones, even in these allegedly enlightened times. Somehow, though, she didn’t think they were together, but she had no idea how she knew that.
She realised she’d been standing on the same spot for at least a minute, watching the two women, and gave herself a mental slap. You’re acting like a stalker. So Ash is out with someone tonight. So what?
Walking on, she tried hard not to think about how Hayley had Ash’s company all to herself for the evening. Lucky her.
Chapter 8
Ash spent the train journey out to her sister’s bracing herself for the reaction she might receive when she got there. She wasn’t exactly looking forward to seeing Courtney, knowing it would probably involve a lot of harsh words and maybe some shouting.
She gazed out the window as the train neared Courtney’s station. What a shitty weekend this was turning out to be. Her date with Hayley last night had been a waste of time, with each of them realising only an hour in that they had very little in common. Weirdly, bumping into Carmen had been one of the highlights of the night. Strange how that happened. She laughed softly to herself. I’d have been better off taking her to that bar, not Hayley. Carmen was easy to talk to and fun to spend time with. She wondered if she should give Carmen a call. They could be friends, couldn’t they? Even if Ash did find her attractive, she could keep it under control. Couldn’t she?
The walk from the station took only a couple of minutes, and she took a deep breath before ringing the doorbell.
“I told you, I don’t want to talk to you.” Courtney’s greeting and the pissed-off look on her face was, unfortunately, just what Ash had expected.
“I know you did, but I’m here anyway.” Ash shrugged. “So how about you invite me in for a cup of tea?”
Courtney scowled before walking away down the hallway—but she left the front door open.
Taking that as the best invitation she was going to get, Ash stepped into the house.
As usual, a myriad of smells assaulted her nose. Cigarette smoke was paramount—it seemed as if Courtney was back on them after trying to quit for about the fifth time. Bacon had been fried for breakfast, Ash would guess, and beneath that smell lurked the general odour of a house that wasn’t properly looked after. Ash’s sister had never been much of a fan of housework.
Ash peeked into the front room. Yep, all the windows shut tight even though it was a gorgeous day outside. She cast a glance over her shoulder. When she found herself unobserved, she ducked into the room and opened the top window a notch. She’d close it again before she left, but at least some air would circulate for however long she was in the house.
As she left the room, Sophie appeared on the stairs. Her eyes went wide when she saw Ash. “You came.”
“Of course.” Ash met her at the bottom of the stairs for a quick hug. “Said I would.”
“Thanks.”
“How’s it been?”
By unspoken agreement they were keeping their voices low.
Sophie shrugged. “Okay, actually. She ignored me when I got home yesterday afternoon. I did my homework in my room, then listened to some music. Her friends came round, and after they’d gone, she asked if I was all right, then went to bed.”
“So no more shouting?”
“No.” Sophie frowned. “She kept looking at me kind of funny, though.”
“Funny?”
“Yeah. Like she, I don’t know, like she didn’t know who I was.”
Ash nodded. “She’s found out something about you that’s got her thinking, that’s all.” She patted Sophie’s shoulder. “It’ll be all right. Don’t worry.” God, I hope I’m not making a false promise.
“Okay.” Sophie turned and went back up the stairs.
“Are you having this tea or what?” Courtney yelled from the kitchen.
With a heavy sigh, Ash made her way to the back of the house.
To Ash’s surprise, the kitchen looked clean and tidy. Three empty wine bottles stood on the end of one counter, but other than that you’d never know Courtney had hosted her friends the night before. It even smelled a little fresher than the rest of the house; the back door had been propped open with a chair. Thankful for small mercies, she walked further into the room and helped herself to one of the chairs at the small table in the corner.
“Make yourself at home,” Courtney said sarcastically. She grabbed two steaming mugs from next to the kettle, carried them to the table, and set them down before throwing herself into the chair opposite Ash’s.
Courtney looked the same as always: a little rough around the edges. Her dyed blonde hair needed its roots doing, her eyes had dark smudges underneath, and her hoodie and sweatpants had definit
ely seen better days. “So, come to tell me how to raise my daughter, have you?”
Only just avoiding rolling her eyes, Ash shook her head. “Not at all.”
“Well, what then? You’re the one who’s given her all these ideas, after all.”
Ash held up her hands in a placating gesture. “Courtney, I haven’t done anything like that, and you know it.”
Courtney huffed and reached for her mug, her eyes averted, and everything in her body language told Ash she wasn’t angry so much as confused.
“Look,” Ash said softly. “I know this has probably surprised you, but—”
“Surprised?” Courtney glared at her. “Try really pissed me off.”
“Why?”
“What?”
“Why has it pissed you off?”
Courtney opened her mouth to speak, then closed it again. After some moments, she tried again. “How can she know already? I…I don’t understand.”
“I know you don’t.” Ash kept her tone gentle. “But here’s the thing. You don’t have to.”
“What the fuck does that mean?” Courtney’s eyes blazed.
“It means you just need to support her.”
“Support her? How? I don’t want her to be…that way .”
It hurt, despite how at ease Ash was with her own sexuality and had been for years. She grabbed for her tea and swallowed a couple of mouthfuls. The pause helped to tamp down her anger. She knew it wouldn’t help Sophie if she let it out, and she made sure she breathed deeply a couple of times before responding. “What you want isn’t the issue here, Courtney. She’s struggling with some pretty big things, and all she wants is some time and space to think about them.” When Courtney made to interrupt, Ash held up a hand. “Listen, that’s all she’s doing at the moment, just thinking. You shouting at her isn’t going to help, and if you’re not careful, might just make it all worse. If she’s gay”—Courtney glared at her again—“then that’s what she is. Nothing you or I say will change that. Trust me, it doesn’t work that way.”
Ash leaned forward and made sure Courtney met her gaze. Okay, so maybe she was trying to teach Courtney how to raise her daughter. Tough. “The best thing you can do for her is just let her think it through, work out her true feelings. For all we know, it will pass. It might just be some crush on one girl, and in a year, two years, she’s mad for some boy. We just don’t know. And nor does she. So don’t put any pressure on her to be one thing or another.”
“But that’s what you’re doing!” Courtney hissed. “She said it in her diary! Said you were telling her it was okay if she was, you know, gay, like you, and to just accept it if she is. She’s fourteen, Ash! She’s too young.”
Ash wasn’t going to touch the whole “why did you even read her diary” conversation today—that would only end up with an even bigger shouting match. But when this storm had calmed, she’d be having that chat with Courtney about respecting her daughter’s privacy.
“I was twelve when I knew, Courtney.”
Courtney stared at her, and Ash returned the look with as much sympathy in her expression as she could manage. It wasn’t her sister’s fault she didn’t understand.
“You have no idea how confusing it is at that age to know you are different but not know why. And when you know you can’t talk to anyone about it, it’s even worse.” She could feel all her teenage anger reappearing and fought to keep her voice low and calm. “All I’m asking is that you don’t do what Mum and Dad did to me. Don’t try to make her something she’s not, okay? Let her work this out. Please.”
“I…I don’t want her being unhappy.” Courtney fiddled with the handle of her mug. “You’re not exactly the best advert for it, are you, after what happened with Leesa and all them other women. And you don’t have a girlfriend now, do you?”
Wow, that blow hit hard. Ash couldn’t breathe for a moment, and her fists clenched and unclenched several times before she could speak.
“Yes, I’ve had a few relationships that have unfortunately all ended. Although some in better ways than others. That happens to straight people all the time too. And for what it’s worth, I am actually a happy person. I don’t need to be in a relationship to be happy. I’ve got a good life, and more importantly, I’m able to live that life as me, the real me.” She stood, tired of the emotions raging through her body, of keeping her anger in check while she fought Sophie’s battle.
From the scrunched look on Courtney’s face, she’d maybe given her something to think about, at least. This was a first step, but maybe, just maybe, it would have some positive impact.
“Thanks for the tea. You know where I am if you want to talk about it. Any time, Courtney, I mean that. I love Sophie like she was my own, but I want to be there for both of you. You’re my only sister. She’s my only niece. You’re both so important to me. Okay?”
Courtney pursed her lips but eventually nodded.
On legs that were strangely unsteady, Ash left the kitchen. At the last minute, before opening the front door, she remembered the window she had opened. As she stepped back towards the living room, Courtney’s voice came from close behind.
“Don’t worry, I’ll shut it later.”
Ash turned.
Courtney slouched against the wall of the hallway, turning a pack of cigarettes over and over in her hand. “I… Get home safe.” She stared at Ash a moment longer, then turned away and walked back towards the kitchen.
Chapter 9
After her fifth client meeting of the day, Carmen headed home on the first Thursday evening in July with weary steps. She’d no sooner opened the front door when her phone rang, of course. A glance at the caller display brought her some relief.
“Hey, Tristan.”
“Hello. How are you?”
“Knackered.” She placed her handbag on the hall table and kicked off her heels.
“You sound it. Are you still at work?”
“Just arrived home.” She declined to mention that she would continue working even though she was now home. She’d had a gentle lecture from Beverley about working too much earlier that day, and one telling-off in a day was plenty; she didn’t need one from her brother too.
“Okay, then I won’t keep you from putting your feet up. I just wanted to check what time your train gets in on the twelfth.”
Oh shit . “Ah, Tristan. Um.” She sucked in a breath. “Here’s the thing—”
“Oh, no, seriously? You’re cancelling on us again ?”
“I’m sorry. I genuinely intended to come that weekend, but then one of my clients got—”
“Well, I might have known it was your work.”
He sounded angrier than she would have anticipated, and she stopped in the middle of the hallway so that she could concentrate on talking to him. “Tristan, I am so sorry. He’s a very important client, a huge star in the making, and I’ve managed to set up a dinner with one of the top film producers in the US, who happens to be in London that weekend. This could get him—and me—some exceptional exposure. I’m so sorry, but I hadn’t got round to putting our dates in my calendar, and I completely forgot I was already committed to you when I set up the meeting.”
There was silence down the end of the line, and for a brief moment, she thought Tristan had hung up.
“I have always supported you in your work, you know that,” he finally said. “But lately it seems that that’s all you do, twenty-four seven. It isn’t healthy.”
“I know, it’s…” She wasn’t sure what to say. A part of her knew that she held on to her work too tightly, that she needed to let some of it go and trust Monica to do it instead. But she’d been a one-woman show for so long, that was easier said than done.
“Is everything…? Can I ask, is the business okay? Are you in trouble? Is that why you’re working so many hours?”
Carmen snorted out a laugh. “God, no! The complete opposite. We’re doing really well, and my client list is now overflowing. I mean, that’s good, because clearly peo
ple trust me and my work speaks for itself, but…”
“Can you hire someone else to help out? Another Monica?”
“I might have to think about doing just that.”
“And how does Gerald feel about this?” her brother asked. “He must hardly ever see you.”
God, could this conversation get any worse? She nearly groaned out loud. “Ah, yes, about that…”
“What?”
“Um, well, I split up with him. About two weeks ago.”
“Carmen! You’re only just telling me this now ?” Tristan sighed again. “I thought we had a better relationship than that.” The softness of his tone hurt more than if he’d shouted. “I thought… Sorry, it’s selfish of me, I know, but I really thought that would be the sort of thing you’d want to share with your little brother. Where have you gone? We never talk anymore. You just work; that’s all. It makes me so sad.”
She didn’t have an answer to that, and it broke her heart. Why did she keep so much to herself? She had people who were there for her. Tristan and Felicity were both very good listeners, and Tamsyn and Maggie had become very good friends over the last couple of years.
“I’m sorry, Tristan.” Tears welled up in her eyes. “God, I’m sorry. I’m so tired. I know it’s self-inflicted, but I feel like I’m on some runaway train that I have to keep up with. I can’t just stop, or I’ll lose all the momentum I’ve built up the last few years.” She tugged on a handful of her hair, the pain a small penance for the mix-up. “I’m so sorry for screwing up our weekend.”
He exhaled slowly. “It’s okay, but please don’t do it again. And please look after yourself. You’re worrying me.”
“I know. I don’t mean to.”
“So, if I email you some new dates tonight, can we please, please make it a firm date this time?”
“Absolutely. I promise.” She nodded firmly even though he couldn’t see it.
“All right. Well, you get some rest. I love you.”
“I love you too.” She cleared her throat. “You’re…you’re a wonderful brother, and I’ll try to be a better sister from now on.”
