The Rarest Rose

by I Beacham

“If I’d done that, it would have stopped you seeing Joan, and that was more important,” Kier reasoned. It did not make Ele feel better. “Besides, I thought the drive over might be dangerous. The roads were covered in black ice.”

  “And yet you drove around taking photos,” Ele said as Kier forked a piece of fish and ate it. She changed the subject. “How did your business appointment go today?”

  “Appointment?” Kier looked at her blankly.

  “The one you said you had over here today, which is why you didn’t need me to give you a lift?”

  Kier frowned and looked down at her plate awkwardly. “Oh, that. It went okay.” Kier seemed preoccupied with what little food was left on her plate. Ele probed.

  “What is it about?”

  “Nothing much. It’s a possible photo opportunity next year.”

  “Something interesting?” The more she asked, the less Kier wanted to talk about it. She wasn’t imagining it. Kier was uncomfortable, and the intense eye contact present until now, disappeared.

  “No. It’s more a private thing…for one of the groups. They don’t want me to say too much. You know how private some of these folks can be.”

  Kier was being evasive, and Ele knew it. There had been no meeting. She had sensed this the other day and couldn’t understand it.

  “This was a wonderful idea, Ele. You were right about the food. I’m so glad we’ve come here.”

  Ele recognized Kier’s abrupt change of subject. “It was the least I could do after all your hospitality. I hope I didn’t overstay my welcome.” Had she? But the answer she received was swift enough, and Kier seemed at ease again.

  “You did not. I can’t think of any better houseguest, Ele. And if anything sinister reoccurs at the house, you know there’s always a bed for you.”

  “Thank you.”

  The waitress returned and removed their empty plates. She asked if they wanted drinks. Ele went to order another wine, but Kier interrupted, sending the waitress off for two coffees.

  “Best not have another. You’re driving. I’d hate anything to happen to you on the way home.” Kier placed her hand over hers again. Small electric shocks ran through her body.

  “Like what?” she said.

  “Like being breathalyzed and charged with drunk driving.”

  “Nothing more?” Ele couldn’t hide her disappointment. She didn’t know what she wanted Kier to say, but this wasn’t it.

  “Or being wrapped around a tree.”

  Still not the answer Ele might have preferred—something more intimate, like not wanting to lose her—but it would do. It showed Kier’s concern for her safety.

  In no rush to leave, they continued talking as if they had not seen each other for months, and time sped by. It was the sudden quietness of the pub and the fact they were the last couple there that made Kier indicate they should go.

  As they moved through the deserted narrow passageway that led back out into the car park, they brushed against each other, and Ele thought she sensed Kier slow. Instinct laced with desire made her reach out and pull Kier toward her, touching the side of her face with a hand. It was a bold move. Kier didn’t resist.

  Ele leaned in and kissed her. This time she knew it wasn’t impulse. Kier responded as the warmth of their lips and their tongues intermingled. Kier moaned. “Beth,” Ele whispered before drawing back, horrified. Kier stiffened like a statue. In the subdued lighting, Ele saw the look of hurt on Kier’s face before she turned and walked toward her car.

  Ele ran and caught her by the arm, forcing her to look at her. “Kier, I’m sorry. It was a slip.”

  “I can’t do this, Ele. Not again.” Kier’s voice was raw.

  Ele was mortified, she felt sick. How could she have said Beth’s name? “It’s the wine,” she tried to explain, but its reasoning was weak and valueless. Kier looked crushed, and it was all Ele’s fault. The evening had gone so well and now she had ruined it. Kier’s initial distance had faded and Ele had sensed them drawing closer. And now she had done this?

  “Ele, you called me Beth.”

  “It was a stupid slip, that’s all.”

  “No, not all.” Kier looked tormented. “I won’t lie. I’m in love with you. But—it’s Beth.” Ele saw the misery in her eyes as she tried to explain. “You kiss me tonight, but tomorrow you’ll change. Like before.”

  “Before?” Ele didn’t understand.

  “That kiss. The one after we left Dot’s. It was so good. We connected, but after, it was as if you wished you hadn’t kissed me. You became detached. And then at my place, you told me you acted on impulse.”

  “But—”

  “You blow hot and cold, Ele. And I understand. It’s Beth and her memory. You’re stuck in the past with someone I can’t compete with. Even tonight…” Kier pointed to the pub. “This is where you brought her. She’s still part of you, and she comes between us. I feel her all the time.” Kier looked exasperated. “It’s not your fault, or mine. It’s just life. But I can’t do this again. I can’t keep waiting and hoping you’re going to change. I won’t play second fiddle again. With Chrissie, it was her career. With you, it’s Beth.” Kier let out a huge sigh as she opened her car door and climbed in. “I’m sorry,” she said before she drove away into the darkness.

  For a few minutes, Ele stood not knowing what to do. When the cold started to bite, she pulled her coat tightly around her, climbed into her vehicle, and started the engine. She didn’t drive away immediately. She sat, fiddling with a ring on her finger, listening to the motor whir. She looked down. It was the ring Beth had given her.

  *

  Kiernan drove like a lunatic down narrow country lanes that were a shortcut home. Loud music filled her car, but Kiernan wasn’t listening. It was there only to stop her thinking. God, what had just happened? The music wasn’t working so she turned the volume up to its maximum capacity.

  She rounded a bend and felt the back wheels skid as she hit a straight piece of road and drove faster. The car’s temperature gauge showed it was below freezing outside, but Kiernan already knew this, her breath was crystallizing inside the still cold vehicle.

  On the side of the road, she saw the yellow box on a pole—a speed camera—but she didn’t care and didn’t slow down. As she passed it, she looked in her rear mirror to see if the box flashed, the sure sign she would get a fine through the post within a few weeks. But it didn’t. She scoffed. All the cutbacks from councils struggling in the recession; not many speed boxes actually functioned these days.

  A little too cocksure, she entered a bend at the bottom of the straight road too fast and skidded again. This time her luck deserted her, and she felt her control of the car go. The car skewed wildly.

  The back wheels hit the grass verge first, and the car slid sideways off the road. Kiernan shut her eyes from the inevitable. The car bumped and banged beneath her. She waited for the big hit. But it never came. Seconds later, the car was at a complete halt. She opened her eyes and saw a huge oak tree in front of her.

  Kiernan staggered from her car, slowly, unable to stop shaking. Using the bonnet for support, she edged toward its front. There was not room for a human hair between her car and the tree, but neither object was touched.

  She drew a hand up to her mouth and breathed out, hearing the unnatural panting sound she made. To her left was a huge field hedge, and before it, a deep ditch. She had avoided the latter by less than an inch and now the car rested precariously on the edge. Moving around the vehicle, she saw no damage and furtively looked up and down the road to see if anyone had seen what she’d done. The road was dark and quiet, an eerie stillness to it.

  Carefully, she climbed back into the car and turned the key. She half expected it to be a dead engine, but it didn’t let her down and she couldn’t hide her joy when the car started. She placed the gear in reverse and was amazed when the car moved back. Less than ten seconds later, she was back on the road and driving at a more sedate speed.

  Back home, the
first thing Kiernan did was go into the kitchen where she poured herself a large, neat whiskey. Despite the car, in time, pushing out a huge amount of heat, she was still unable to stop shaking. Just how close had she come to having a nasty accident and possibly one she might not have walked away from? The answer was too horrid to contemplate.

  She threw off her fleece and walked over to the large glass window at the bottom of her sitting room, allowing the warmth of the drink and home to saturate into her bones. The lights of the streets and houses lit up against the darkness of the night. It was such a pretty view. But her attention was on her reflection. There was a strange look on her face that she didn’t recognize. It should have been shock, but it wasn’t. It was because of what had happened at the pub.

  Her body had reacted to Ele’s kiss, her skin turning sensitive, her desire instant. But then Ele had called her Beth. Kiernan hung her head and groaned. Her heart ached for how much she loved Ele. What was not to love? But the cruelty was that Ele loved someone else. Someone untouchable. Someone perfect. An entity she could not compete with. Ele still wore a ring on her wedding finger. She kept seeing the pain on Ele’s face as she had withdrawn from her embrace and run into the night air. “Oh, Ele. I can’t—won’t—make the same mistake I made with Chrissie.”

  All the emotions she’d felt with Chrissie, when she knew the woman she loved would never commit to her, surged back. It had cut her to the core. Everything had been so right between them. It was that final step that Chrissie wouldn’t take.

  Whatever seeds of romance now hinted between her and Ele, she thought it was like an old Hollywood movie. Same sad tale, just a remake with different characters and back story.

  Kiernan knew it was over. She downed what was left of her drink and went to bed. She wondered why she was bothering. She would not sleep.

  *

  Ele heard someone call her name, and she walked outside into the brilliant sunshine. She could feel the heat on her back as she looked around, but no one was there. Then she heard her name called again, and this time, she glanced across the lawn in front of her house. Beth was standing there, the other side of a tennis net, holding a racquet.

  “Hey, Slim,” Beth called out. “You going to play or what?”

  “Beth?” Ele couldn’t believe she was here. It had been so long. She started to run toward her, but her feet hurt. She glanced down and saw she was shoeless and still in her pajamas. The gravel was cutting into her feet. If I can just get to the grass, she thought. And then inexplicably, she was on grass.

  “I’ve got no shoes on,” she said. She couldn’t seem to remember why she hadn’t seen Beth for so long. Had she been away? But seeing Beth now, her heart felt like it would burst with joy.

  “Your adoring public isn’t here now. They don’t care.” Beth was laughing and looking at her feet. “Just hit the ball back!”

  But Ele didn’t want to hit the ball back. It had been so long since she’d seen Beth. She wanted to reach out to her and hold her in her arms. She ran toward her again, but the net that divided them grew tall and strong, out of all proportion, and it blocked her.

  “Beth, I can’t get to you.” She was desperate. She pushed against the net, but its steel mesh was rigid. Beth was still laughing as she hit the ball over it. When had Ele returned it? She couldn’t remember.

  Then Ele stood at the back of the lawn court again, near the gravel. There was a racquet in her hand.

  Beth was taunting her. “Pick the ball up, Slim. Put it back in play.”

  Slim. It was the nickname Beth used to call her. It sounded so familiar, so good to hear it again—to hear it spoken by Beth. No one else called her that. “I can’t see the ball,” Ele shouted. “It’s lost.”

  “Nice try, Ele. You can’t get out of this game like that. Just because I’m winning. It’s over by the gazebo.” Beth was swinging her racquet in front of her, as if practicing.

  Mystified, Ele turned to the gazebo, but couldn’t see the ball. She walked toward it, but as she did, she could see a woman standing inside it. She looked familiar. She heard Beth shout, “I’m waiting.”

  As Ele approached the gazebo, the woman turned. It was Kier. She’d been crying.

  “What are you doing here?” Ele asked.

  “I’m waiting for you.”

  Ele saw the hopelessness in Kier’s eyes and wanted to reach out to her, but she was assuaged with guilt. What if Beth had seen? She looked over at the lawn, but Beth was no longer there. She heard the gravel crunch behind her. Beth was here?

  She turned expecting to see her. Instead, she saw—John Stafford. She couldn’t breathe. He was right behind her with his awful piercing eyes bearing down on her.

  Ele awoke with a shout, and Featherstone darted off her bed and out of the room. It took her a while to realize that she’d been dreaming. She held the bedcovers close to her, waiting for her racing heart to calm. Beth had been so real. If she’d been able to cross the net, Ele knew she could have touched her. She had looked so good. And then she had seen Kier. Her dream had been of the two women in her life that she loved. Its aftereffects left her dazed. Her longing to see Beth again was fulfilled. But her emotions and wants were refocused on Kier. Kier was the memory that lingered. The sadness on her face. She’d been crying. Ele’s heart ached.

  Featherstone jumped back on the bed and started meowing. He wanted food. He wanted it now.

  Ele got up.

  Chapter Twenty-one

  Later that morning, Ele sat in her car outside Kier’s home. Her fingers tapped the steering wheel as she gathered her thoughts. She knew Kier was in. Her sports car was parked next to hers.

  The dream still played in her mind. It had produced a cocktail of emotions. The joy at seeing Beth again. So tangible. Ele had experienced her alive again. Beth had looked young and full of vitality, not like she had in the last months after her stroke.

  Ele had also experienced terror. Seeing Stafford almost face-to-face and staring at her with those burning eyes. It was that image that had woken her, that had made her cry out.

  But the overwhelming emotion that continued to dominate, above all others, was that of guilt. No longer guilt at betraying Beth, but guilt because of what she had done—was doing—to Kier. The dream had awakened her past, but had it also shown her a future? It scared her. She saw now that not trying to move forward meant losing everything—losing Kier.

  Twice, she had held—and kissed—Kier. Twice, she had known what it was to hold someone close again, to feel that intimate connection. She had dated others, after Beth. She had even kissed one or two of them, but none of them evoked the passion and longing she had for Kier.

  This was her moment. This was her chance to have a life again, not a memory of a life. She prayed it wasn’t too late.

  *

  Kiernan was nervous as she waited for Ele to climb from the bottom of the stairs up to her door. This was unexpected, and she had no idea what Ele wanted. She wondered if she might be about to reprimand her for leaving so abruptly last night, for not being more understanding of what Ele was going through.

  Ele stepped through the door and gently closed it behind her. Kier could see she looked tense, too. They held each other’s eyes and tried to smile. It didn’t work.

  Kiernan invited Ele to step into the room and sit down, but she politely refused.

  “I keep turning up at your door unexpected, don’t I?” Ele’s hand rose to push hair out of her face. Kier saw her hand shake. She didn’t answer; she didn’t know what to say. She hadn’t slept last night, and she felt numb.

  Instead, Ele filled the short awkward vacuum of silence. “I wanted to say I’m sorry, Kier. What I did—said—last night was dreadful. I don’t know why I said Beth’s name, but I can understand how you felt. I’ve been trying to work out why that happened. Beth’s been gone for so long, it’s like some startling Freudian slip.”

  Kiernan was frozen, unable to make any soothing noises to make this easier for Ele. She
wanted to. Ele looked so vulnerable.

  “It’s just that Beth has been on my mind so much, of late. I realize it’s because of you.”

  The declaration astonished Kiernan. Ele saw it did and nodded.

  “You’re right, Kier. Beth is always around. It’s like the two of you are competing. And I’ve felt like I’m betraying her, thinking of replacing her with you—”

  “I understand, Ele, I do.”

  Ele cupped her hands in front of her. “I’m scared, Kier. I’ve only just found you, and I don’t want to lose you. I don’t want us to stop—not that I’ve given us a chance to start.” She took a deep breath. “I know Chrissie hurt you, and now you don’t want to be hurt again. I know you’re protecting yourself. I can’t understand that sort of pain because I’ve never been through it. Beth and I never experienced it. We were first time lovers who never needed to find anyone else. People tell me that’s unusual. Rare.”

  “I don’t want to make the same mistakes again,” Kiernan said.

  “No. Of course you don’t. And I don’t want you to make those mistakes again.”

  Kiernan felt awkward. What was Ele trying to tell her?

  “Please help me, Kier. Please give me one more chance. Last night, what I did, how I felt after you drove off. I’ve done a lot of soul searching. I’m ready, Kier. I’m ready to take a chance, if you’ll let me. You make me feel again. We’ve only known each other a short time, but already, I know. I know that when you’re not around, I miss you. And I think about what you’re doing. I count the hours until I can see you again. I dream of you.” Ele’s hands fell to her sides. “This is powerful stuff, Kier. Let’s not walk away from it, back to our own little positions of safety where we can’t be hurt anymore. Give me one more chance?”

  Kiernan heard her, but didn’t think anything had changed. Not really. She saw the ring on Ele’s finger and couldn’t hide the pain she felt. It was pointless to dream. Ele must have read that in her face. She turned to leave, her head bowed as if in defeat. As she placed her hand on the door handle, she faced Kiernan.