As close as Cam was with her sister, and despite the many tawdry tales Alison had shared about her own love life, Cam had never had the nerve to confess that her sex life with Ryan had also stopped sparking. She felt it was something shameful and not something to admit, even to Alison. Weekends were when she felt the loss of the intimacy most. Earlier in the relationship, they’d make a point of staying in bed to have breakfast and then “fooling around.” Cam used the euphemism her mother used, the words sounding prissy even to herself. Cam missed those times even though she didn’t always think of herself as a very sexual person.
Cam shook the thought away and concentrated on the task of introducing a thin coating of Marmite to her bagel. The brown goo had become her breakfast topping of choice since coming to London and discovering it all those months ago. She’d tried to describe the unusual taste to Alison, found it impossible, given up, and mailed her a jar. She got a text message two weeks later that simply said: Hate it. The devil’s invention. Cam missed her sister; she missed their chats. She should call her soon.
Cam crossed the kitchen to top up her coffee, automatically doing the same for Ryan and receiving a similarly automatic “Thanks, babe” by way of acknowledgement. Too much in her life was automatic these days. Roles, tasks, even meals like this. She hadn’t ever questioned it, but lately she had begun to wonder when it had all started, when she had started to feel like everything was so routine and her life was emptier than she’d like. Would she be happier back in the States, with friends and family closer? Or would the dull routine and respectability of all that feel stifling? Cam always tried to be honest with herself so she didn’t want to deny that she had felt some of that boredom and absence of purpose before they left for London, and in agreeing to come with Ryan, had hoped that the change of scene might be good for them. The first few months did feel different, more exciting, but then the same feelings had reemerged. Maybe her sister was right and things feeling a little routine was a natural part of any long-term relationship, regardless of the partner or the setting. Cam tried to imagine herself five years from now or even ten years from now, having the same breakfast with Ryan for all that time. Maybe at some point there’d be kids she’d need to feed a breakfast to as well. It should have been a good feeling, something she looked forward to. It wasn’t, and the thought made her feel gloomy.
Cam wondered what Iris was doing and whether she would ever choose to read the paper rather than talk to her girlfriend over a meal. Where had that thought come from? Cam chided herself for being ridiculous. Especially given that everything she’d heard about Iris said she was the kind of person who conquered women for fun and probably wouldn’t even stick around for breakfast, let alone sit and offer sparkling conversation over a Marmite bagel.
Cam did know that Iris had had at least one relationship—the woman who hated poetry—but she didn’t know if it had been anything serious. The idea that Iris might have been referring to Jess jarred for some reason. Jess would definitely hate poetry, and Jess had already suggested that she and Iris had had something. Try as she might though, Cam just couldn’t see Iris and Jess together. Iris was funny and creative and…she searched for the right word…careful. And Cam already knew that Jess was the opposite—unkind, impulsive, and indiscreet.
Cam sipped her coffee, not really understanding why she was thinking about Iris, why Iris was the person she was comparing Ryan to. But she was. She was a new friend and there was lots about her still to know. It was understandable that Iris was on Cam’s mind. Wasn’t it? Cam chewed the last of her bagel. She had only known Iris for a matter of weeks, whereas she and Ryan had four years under their belts. Surely she’d be in this position with anyone she had spent that length of time with.
“Can we do something later?” Cam broke the silence of the breakfast table, wanting to banish the thoughts that were roaming unhelpfully around her mind. “Maybe a museum or a gallery. Or a movie.”
To her own ears, she sounded a little whiny as if she were already expecting Ryan to find an excuse to say no. He put down the paper.
“I’d love to, honey, but I’m going to Frankfurt later, remember? We have that big presentation first thing tomorrow.” He shrugged as if sorry about it.
Cam hadn’t remembered. She felt a wave of annoyance.
“The car’s coming for me at three thirty. Sorry, babe. Next week, definitely. We can go and see that new Bond movie if you like. It’s supposed to be good.” Ryan took his plate and mug to the sink and started rinsing them.
Cam was not willing to be dismissed so easily.
“What about lunch before you go? We’ll have time for that after your squash game. There’s a new veggie café up in the village. We could try that out. Iris said it’s great.”
Ryan turned from the sink. “I said I’d have lunch with Rory after we played squash. He needs a bit of a pep talk. It’s not going well for him at work and he’s having a few problems at home. If he doesn’t up his game, he’s going to cost the whole team our bonus this month.” Ryan looked a little shamefaced that he had made plans.
Cam couldn’t believe that, knowing he was going away again, he would not have arranged things so as to spend some of the day with her. She could easily say as much, make him feel bad, and he would tell her wearily that she didn’t understand the pressure he was under. She just couldn’t see the point.
“Aren’t you going running with Iris this morning?” Ryan didn’t wait for an answer. “Ask her to try out that café with you. She might not have plans.”
“Good idea,” Cam said flatly. She crossed to the stairs, leaving her breakfast things on the table. “I’d better go and get ready actually.” As she left the room, Cam offered up a halfhearted, “Enjoy your game.” Ryan sighed as she left the room. She was determined not to care.
* * *
Though it was December and still only a quarter past nine, the day was a clear one, and the sun had managed to get itself up and was sitting low in the sky. Iris closed her eyes and enjoyed the feel of it on her face. It was about the only part of her that wasn’t covered. She was dressed for the cold weather in leggings and a long-sleeved top over a short-sleeved base layer. Iris had arrived at the allotted bench at the bottom of Preacher’s Hill fifteen minutes early, which, given that she lived ten minutes away, was no mean feat. It also meant she was already starting to feel the cold.
Iris didn’t want to use the word excited to describe how she felt when she woke up and remembered she was meeting Cam for a run, but she had to admit that she’d looked forward to it all week. She had something close to butterflies over breakfast, and they hadn’t vanished until she got here and sat on the bench. Iris had chosen a northeasterly route that took them away from the road that crossed the Heath, up past Hampstead ponds, across Parliament Hill, and then farther up to Highgate.
The sun was soothing Iris’s nerves in a way that no amount of telling herself that them running together wasn’t a big deal hadn’t. The truth was that it wasn’t a big deal. Cam had said Ryan never had the time to go running with her and wanted the company. Iris made herself imagine that she’d have said the same to Hazel or Vicki or whoever she happened to be talking to when the subject came up. It helped.
She was delighted when Cam stopped by her desk on Friday saying that, as they didn’t have a match this week and Ryan was playing squash, she’d love to go for a run on Sunday morning if Iris was free. Iris had agreed happily. Very happily.
“Hey, shouldn’t you be stretching or doing push-ups or something.”
Cam’s voice startled her.
“Hey, Grandma, you look like you’re having a little snooze there. Do you want me to come back later?” Cam teased her.
“Well, it is pretty early for a Sunday and I did have a very late night.” Cam frowned slightly and, for some reason, Iris felt a need to clarify she wasn’t out with a woman. “I mean I was writing until about one—got in the groove somehow—and then of course I couldn’t sleep afterward.”
>
“I’m glad you’re writing. Anything unbelievably personal that you want me to read?” It had become a joke between them that Cam would offer to read the poems and Iris would refuse. “Maybe it’s a love poem about someone you like?” She faltered. “Ignore me, sorry. Just needlessly fishing for information I don’t have a right to have. That American thing. I’m gonna keep blaming that until someone stops me.”
“It’s funny you should ask.” Iris paused for effect. “The poem was all about my unrequited love for Graham actually. Far too personal to share of course. Though if you can help me find a rhyme for pillock I’ll forever be in your debt.”
Iris started to stretch her calves, leaning on the side of the bench for balance. Cam took up a similar position opposite her and began to do likewise.
Iris was mid-stretch, her head pointing down to her knees, her leg up on the bench.
“You sound like Hazel actually. She’s always asking me about my love life and I always say the same thing back—nothing to report I’m afraid. Sorry to disappoint everyone who wants to see me happily paired off.”
“I’m not sure that’s what I want.” Cam paused. “You’ll have someone else to run with and talk to about poetry…where would that leave me?” Cam’s matter-of-fact possessiveness surprised Iris.
“Funnily enough, I was chatting with Diane in the pub after training last week and she was paying me a lot of attention, and I thought I’d have to have one of those conversations about liking her as a friend, etc., but then I realized that she was actually just talking to me so she could pump me for info about Jess, who she seems to have the total hots for.” Iris lifted her eyebrows. “She’s far too young and far too sweet for me. I’d worry that my cynical self would simply crush her under foot, but the old ego still took a bruising when I finally figured out I was just her way to get to Jess.”
Iris looked at Cam, who was observing her closely, biting her lip and looking as if she wanted to say something and then thinking better of it. Iris wasn’t sure whether to be relieved or disappointed. Cam’s openness was refreshing but still a little disconcerting sometimes.
Despite the coldness of the morning, Cam had opted for running shorts, and Iris couldn’t help but admire her legs. It wasn’t the first time she had acknowledged just how damned good Cam looked in shorts. Her running top was a bright fluorescent yellow color, long-sleeved, and fit Cam perfectly, accentuating the shapeliness of her body. Cam had her hair tied up, as she did for football, but some strands had broken free, and Iris had to fight an urge to reach out and tuck them back into place. She sought to pull herself together and concentrate on the tightness of her own hamstrings rather than the tightness of Cam’s top. Cam had this power to occasionally reduce her to thoughts best suited to a teenage boy. Happily, the last year had meant that Iris had gotten pretty good at closing down feelings like that. She wanted to build a grown-up friendship with Cam without anything getting in the way.
“I’ve planned a circular route that’s about five miles if that’s okay? Takes us past the ponds. There’ll be naked bathers so try not to look.”
“Of course I’m going to find it impossible not to be staring now.” Cam rewarded Iris with a wink.
“Well, the men and women have separate ponds, so we’ll have to diverge paths at that point to get the view we want.”
Iris raised both eyebrows to signify she was joking. Cam reacted, looking like she was going to say something but presumably thinking better of it.
“Then we’ll take the path up Parliament Hill toward Highgate. It’s a clear day so we should get great views.”
“Sounds perfect. I’m completely in your hands.” Cam nodded.
Iris wasn’t sure whether she imagined the faint blush that colored Cam’s cheeks as the double meaning of the comment landed. If Hazel or Vicki had said it, Iris would have answered back with a smutty remark, but she didn’t know Cam well enough to take the chance and let the comment go.
“Okay, I’ll hum the theme from Rocky and you set the pace.” Iris pointed in the direction they needed to go. They set off along the narrow path, a low railing on one side and a line of tall oak trees on the other.
* * *
Iris and Cam had passed the ponds and were striking out now on the steady climb that would get them to the top of Parliament Hill. They were almost there, and the sky was still completely cloudless
“This view is incredible. Ryan and I walked up here a couple of times, but both times it was cloudy and we couldn’t see much of the view.”
“Have you and Ryan always lived around here?” Iris tried to sound like she had more breath than she did.
“It’s the only place we’ve stayed. His company found the place when he agreed to relocate to London. The house is one of those things that’s making Ryan think about leaving. We have to decide in the next couple of months whether to renew the rental or pack up and go home.”
Iris felt a pang of disappointment stronger than she had expected at the news that Cam might be leaving.
“Do you think you will? Leave, I mean.”
Cam waited a long time before replying. “I don’t know. I think Ryan is of two minds. He’s hating his job but also hates the idea of admitting defeat and going back home. Talking about it doesn’t seem to get us anywhere. I suggested renewing for six months rather than a year, give ourselves more time to see how things go, but Ryan hates compromises. He’s a bit do-or-die, you know?” She looked across at Iris as they ran.
Iris didn’t know Ryan, but she was starting to really dislike him for threatening to take Cam away before they’d had a chance to really form their friendship.
“The worst of it is that I don’t really feel ready to leave London. You know what it’s like. Working takes up all your time and you realize there’s so much you haven’t seen, so many places you haven’t visited.” Cam slowed her pace. A woman with a stroller was ahead of them on the path, and they had to pass her in single file.
“When we first came we did a fair bit of sightseeing—the obvious places like Madame Tussauds, Buckingham Palace, the big museums—and then Ryan’s work got busy and he seemed to find it impossible to find time. I…well…you’ll say it’s lame I’m sure, but I don’t really know anyone here, so I stopped exploring too.”
Iris could feel Cam’s sadness. It made her wonder about Cam’s relationship with Ryan. They’d obviously been together a long time, and Cam had followed him here and now seemed prepared to follow him home again to get married, but where was she in all this? Ryan didn’t have time to run with Cam and he didn’t have time to take her out to see London. Cam deserved better than that.
“Well, I hope you’ll stay. I’d love to show you London.” Iris said the words without thinking. “Not all of it. I mean that would take ages…obviously. But some bits of it are really worth seeing. The East End has some really quirky old houses and museums that are a bit off the beaten track. I used to live there and always want an excuse to go back. Oh, my God.” Iris was animated. “There’s this amazing curry house that I loved when I lived there. The food is to die for. If you like curry.”
“I love curry.”
“Well, I’ll take you there if you promise not to complain about the service and the slightly strange decor.” Iris was stupidly nervous for someone who was just offering to show a friend around town.
Cam slowed down, leaned across, and touched Iris’s arm. “You know, I’d really like that. I really would.”
Iris smiled, her self-consciousness gone. She was rewarded with a nudge from Cam.
“I’ll race you to that bench.” Cam pointed at a bench on the crest of the hill about a hundred yards away and set off sprinting along the path. Iris followed, sure that she wouldn’t be able to catch Cam, but surer still that she wanted very much to do this again. Instead of the warning bells that should have been sounding, Iris heard only her own breath in her ears as she quickened her pace to catch up.
As Cam reached the bench a few yards ahea
d of Iris, she lifted her arms in mock celebration. She laughed as Iris flopped down onto the bench breathing heavily. Her black hair was damp, and her face, flushed red with the effort of the run, was…radiant. Cam couldn’t think of a more perfect word. Her phone beeped with a text alert, and she could feel Iris watching her as she fished around in her pocket for it. She wondered if she looked anywhere near as appealing as Iris did or was simply just pink and sweaty.
Cam opened the text. Got time to talk to your little sister? It was Alison. Cam typed out a short reply feeling regretful. The time difference often thwarted their attempts to stay in touch. She put her phone away.
“My sister. Wanting to chat. But it’ll be far too late by the time we get home so we’ve missed our chance now.” Cam shrugged.
“That’s tough. Do you find it hard to stay in touch?”
“We’re close, we make it work. You can…I mean, if you want to. Though the time difference is a good excuse to never speak to my mother…we’re not nearly as close.”
Iris was watching her silently. Her gaze had an intensity that Cam imagined would have drawn in plenty of women over the years. The thought almost made her lose the thread of what she’d been saying.
“We’re very different I think. It’s hard for us to be close. My mom’s a snob, so concerned about what things look like, about what people will think of her, think of us, that it affects everything she does, and I hate it.” Cam knew she sounded bitter. “It’s all about being seen to do the right thing.”
One Small Step Page 5
