One Small Step

by M. A. Binfield

  Iris stood at the threshold of the upmarket country club where the league was holding its annual dinner dance. She was facing out into the grounds. It was dark, but the gardens were tastefully lit with soft golden lights allowing her to see the wide, manicured lawns, the sculpted bushes dotting the paths that crisscrossed the lawns and the sweep of the long driveway that led from the edge of the grounds to the bottom of the main stone staircase she was standing on. Iris breathed in deeply, inhaling the fresh, cold air and not wanting to make her way back into the banquet hall.

  People were still arriving. Most of them were dressed up for the fancy dinner. The tickets were expensive and the place was kind of high end, and for most of the players, it was the highlight of the season, a chance to get dressed up and cut loose. The season wasn’t quite over, but it wouldn’t stop the teams from playing hard this evening.

  The year before, Iris had attended with Amanda of course, feeling proud of having her on her arm. It was before they’d started having problems, and they’d danced until their feet hurt, drank until they couldn’t stop giggling, and gone home happy. Iris remembered it fondly, and not even seeing Amanda arrive with someone else half an hour before made her feel any sadness about it. Amanda deserved happiness, and Iris knew that out there was someone better for her than Iris ever could have been. The thought wasn’t as self-pitying as it might have been a few months ago. There was someone out there for everyone, even her. Trouble was, right now, Iris couldn’t see past Cam. Her very unavailable and uninterested friend.

  She sighed for the thirtieth time that day. Not seeing Cam all week had not had the cooling effect Iris had hoped for and she knew that, despite telling herself that she needed to cool things down with Cam, it was the prospect of seeing her tonight that had made her make the effort to come.

  The fact that she was standing out in the cold regretting it wasn’t because she was alone, wasn’t even the fact that she hated formal dinners, it was that her own stupidity had stopped her from realizing that Cam would turn up with Ryan. Of course she would. Most of the players brought their partners. And Ryan was Cam’s partner. Iris made herself say it out loud. “Cam is Ryan’s fiancée.” The words were important even if they made Iris feel things she didn’t really want to face.

  Iris had already been seated at one of the Cottoms tables when Cam and Ryan arrived hand in hand. Cam turning heads in a fitted navy blue dress that showed off her figure, and Ryan looking handsome in a lounge suit. He looked pretty pleased with himself to be arriving with Cam. As they approached, Iris wondered if it was too late to change tables. The team had three that had been reserved for them, and if she hadn’t gotten there so ridiculously early—and hadn’t badly needed that aperitif—she could have joined one of the other tables at a much later point. Now she’d made it possible for Cam and Ryan to choose to join her table, which they did, and that meant she’d get to spend the entire evening watching them, trying not be jealous.

  Cam greeted Iris with a sweet wave that made Iris’s heart skip, and Ryan did the handshake thing as they said hello. Iris looked for some sign he was going to be hostile, but his face was open and unconcerned. Iris beckoned the waiter for another gin and tonic.

  “I’m trying to make up for my lack of social skills with G&Ts.” She was self-conscious about drinking so much so early

  “How was the journey back from Bristol?” Cam looked pensive, slightly awkward even.

  “Fine,” Iris replied flatly.

  Ryan looked at Iris curiously. “Oh, that’s right, Cam said you’d been out of town for work, had to drive herself to training and complained like a teenager about it.”

  Cam shot him a look. Ryan ignored her.

  “She doesn’t seem to like her routine disrupted by little things like work.” Cam darted an even darker look in Ryan’s direction.

  Iris stood up. “Sorry I need to go outside for something.” She hurried toward the main doors.

  After several minutes, Iris knew she should rejoin her table, but she really, really didn’t want to. Cam’s look of hurt as Ryan sniped at her was nothing Iris could do anything about, but Ryan making comments like that made her feel protective of Cam and, worse, it made her feel stupidly hopeful that Cam would tire of him. And Iris knew that was not a helpful way to be thinking at all.

  At the top of the stone steps, lost in her thoughts, lost in the view of the grounds, Iris felt someone slide their hands around her waist and turn her around.

  “Gemma.” Iris hugged her friend. “I wasn’t expecting to see you here.”

  “I’m here with Erica, the hot new captain of the Hackney Lions. She isn’t the brightest but she’s very good company if you know what I mean.” She smirked, before putting her arm through Iris’s and steering them into the doorway. Most of the diners had arrived now, just the odd stragglers dribbling in.

  “I’d better get to my table, but find me later and we can catch up and have a dance.”

  “Okay, assuming I’m still capable of coherent thought and coordinated movement.” Iris pointed at her glass and Gemma laughed, leaning in to kiss Iris’s cheek.

  “And come and say a quick hello to Erica. She has the cutest German accent. You’re going to love it.” Gemma put her arm around Iris’s waist and steered her toward their table.

  * * *

  Cam watched Iris in the doorway, aware of only that spot in the entire room. A woman of similar build to Iris, but with a fairer complexion and blond hair, had her arm around Iris’s waist. Iris said something into the woman’s ear, and the woman threw her head back and laughed. Cam felt a knot tighten in her stomach, and the feeling was accompanied by a rising sense of panic that told her, without words, that she shouldn’t be feeling like this.

  Ryan had stood up and was leaning over her. Cam tried to focus on what he was saying, tearing her eyes away from Iris and her “friend,” the word heavy with speech marks even in her own mind.

  “What do you want to drink? I can’t seem to get the waiter’s attention and I want to get started.” Cam could tell Ryan was in the mood to drink, ready to party amongst all these people.

  “Dry white wine.” Cam managed to say the words. Ryan set off for the bar alongside the west wall of the massive dining room. Her gaze returned to the doorway, but she could no longer see Iris and her companion. She scanned the room. Iris was walking with the woman toward a table near the edge of the roped off dance floor. For a horrible moment, Cam thought she was going to sit with her date at that table, that Cam wouldn’t be able to talk to her all night. She couldn’t decide if that was worse than sharing the evening with Iris and whoever the hell that woman was, especially if they were going to be as loved up as their display in the doorway had suggested.

  Cam chided herself. She had no right to feel resentful, no right at all, but she just couldn’t believe that Iris would bring a date—someone she already seemed close to—without first mentioning it to her. They were friends, weren’t they? They talked about stuff. Why wouldn’t Iris mention that she was dating? She wasn’t being honest with herself. Cam wasn’t just upset that Iris hadn’t mentioned it, she was upset about the fact that Iris had a date at all. She shook her head to shake some sense into herself and stopped as she felt Ryan’s presence next to her.

  “It’s as expensive as it looks. We should have smuggled in a hip flask.” Cam smiled at him. His meanness was a topic of fun between them.

  “I’ll drink slowly,” she promised before taking a large swig of wine.

  Ryan playfully snatched the glass away, and Cam pouted at him until he gave it back to her. When Cam returned her attention to the table, Iris was standing with her hands on the back of the chair she had earlier been sitting in. She was alone and had a look on her face that made Cam want to ask her if she was okay.

  “Hey again.” Iris sat down a little self-consciously and sipped at the tall drink that the waiter had left for her.

  “You two have scrubbed up well.” Iris looked across at Casey and Haze
l and waved her fingers in greeting. Cam felt a small pinprick of jealousy that Iris hadn’t offered her a similar compliment.

  Cam wanted to ask Iris who the woman was, and why they weren’t sitting together, but Jess arrived with Diane and quickly claimed the vacant seat next to Iris.

  “You look gorgeous.” Jess spoke to Iris as if the others were not even there, as if she had the right to pay Iris such lavish compliments. Iris did look good, but Cam hated the fact that Jess felt able to say it when she didn’t dare. Iris said nothing, simply shaking her head at Jess and turning away.

  Iris was wearing a fitted black shirt; the material was sheer in places, and Cam knew that she had noticed as much as Jess probably had, how it clung to Iris’s abdomen and arms, showing off her toned physique. Despite the formality of the evening, Iris was wearing a pair of low-slung red jeans. Her hair was tousled and her makeup was understated. Cam wasn’t sure how she managed it, but despite being one of the least dressed up women in the room, Iris was by far the most captivating.

  Iris lifted her arm to signal to the hovering waiter that she wanted to order some wine, revealing to Cam a strip of torso, taut and tanned, in the gap between Iris’s jeans and her shirt. Cam had seen Iris’s body—they changed together every week before and after football—but this unintended glimpse of skin made her feel hot to her core. A feeling she needed to tamp down. Once again, she shook her head, physically hoping to shake some sense into herself. Ryan leaned over and put his hand on Cam’s neck.

  “Are you okay, babe?”

  “I’m fine. Bit of neck ache from being hunched over the computer all day. Don’t worry.”

  The lie came out easily and Cam hated herself for it. She made herself stop staring at Iris, trying to regain a sense of control and grasp the fact that she was here having dinner with her fiancé and some friends, one of whom just happened to be Iris.

  Cam tuned back in to what Jess was saying to Iris. “Was that Gemma you were chatting to? Who is she here with? I had the biggest crush on her for months. You never went there did you? I don’t know why. She obviously wanted you to.”

  Cam spoke to Iris, into the space she had left by not responding to Jess’s questions. She couldn’t help it.

  “I thought she was your date for some reason…Gemma, is that her name? I saw the two of you at the door and you looked, well, like you were together. You looked pretty good together actually.”

  Ryan, oblivious to any undercurrents, spoke up. “Iris and the blond woman? For sure. Go for it, Iris. She’s hot.”

  Cam gave Ryan a look of disapproval that would have knocked him off his feet had he been standing.

  Iris’s cheeks flamed. Cam hadn’t meant to embarrass her. She just had been so affected by the idea that Iris might be dating. The table was now focused on Iris. Only Diane—staring off into the middle distance while playing with her hair absent-mindedly—was not looking at her expectantly.

  “Sorry I’m such a disappointment, guys, but I came alone. The hot blonde…Gemma, as she probably prefers to be known, and I are old friends, and no, Jess, not ‘old friends’ like that.” Iris punctuated the air with her fingers to make clear the speech marks. “And she’s here with her girlfriend.”

  “Like that ever stopped you.” Jess made the remark under her breath.

  Iris flashed a look in Jess’s direction but didn’t say a word to stick up for herself. Cam wanted her to. She actually wanted to do it for her, but of course she had no right to.

  “You never know though, a few more of these,” Iris picked up her glass, “and I might find the courage to ask Ryan for a dance. It’s been quite a while since I’ve danced with someone taller than me.” She drained her glass. “In fact the last time was probably when I danced with my dad when I was fifteen and he embarrassed me by agreeing to be a parent chaperone at the school disco.”

  “Oh God, I remember that story,” Hazel said. “Didn’t he find you in the closet with some boy and pour a lemonade over you both?”

  “He did. Last time I was in any kind of closet.”

  The others laughed; the tension was broken.

  Ryan picked up the ball and ran with it. “Okay I’m in, but only if it’s a slow one so we can snuggle up real close.” There was more laughter, but Cam saw his eyes dart in her direction, wanting to see her reaction.

  She ignored him and returned her attention to Iris. Her eyes were fixed on Cam but clouded with something that she couldn’t read. She really was inscrutable. Cam wanted so badly to lean across the table, take Iris’s hand, and ask her to please tell her, in words as simple and straightforward as she could manage, what she was thinking when she looked at Cam that way. Instead, she gratefully sat back as the waiter poured some more white wine into the glass bowl in front of her that passed for a wine glass.

  * * *

  Ryan put down his knife and fork and leaned across to Cam, whispering something in her ear. Iris watched as she mouthed the word “Don’t” in his direction and then felt embarrassed as Cam looked up and caught her watching them both. The wine Iris had drunk, on top of the G&Ts she had started with, was making her feel looser and less guarded, and she knew herself well enough to know that wasn’t always a good thing.

  “I hope the dessert is as good as the dinner.” Priti pushed her plate away. “And I’m glad the food is living up to the ticket price.”

  Iris topped up her glass. Across the table, Hazel widened her eyes at the amount of wine she was drinking, and Iris shrugged, happy Hazel hadn’t arrived early enough to see her drink the three G&Ts.

  Casey sat back in her chair as the waiters arrived to begin to clear the plates of those diners that had finished eating. “I’m going to have to dance all night to work off those potatoes.” Casey stroked an imaginary paunch.

  “Good luck with finding a dance partner. I’m too full to move.” Hazel leaned her head on Casey’s shoulder.

  “You know the rule my sweet—one dance for each potato. I counted six.” Casey patted Hazel’s arm playfully.

  “No way.” Hazel shook her head, her eyes wide and disbelieving.

  Iris couldn’t help but be charmed by their obvious affection for each other, but felt bitter about being in the presence of such loved up couples, especially when she was feeling so miserably single and halfway to being miserably drunk.

  “Ryan’s not full,” Cam said. “I had to stop him from asking if he could finish Jess’s dinner. He’s such an embarrassment when it comes to food.”

  “The portions were too small for a growing boy like me. If I’m going to have to dance, I’ll need three desserts.” Ryan looked a little sheepish.

  Iris blanched at the easy banter between Ryan and Cam. She hadn’t expected it to hurt quite so much. She willed herself to be happy for Cam that Ryan was in a better mood and they seemed content together for once. But it was hard, harder than it should be.

  “I think Iris had four potatoes so she owes the table four dances. Ryan and I will take one each, any other volunteers?” Her eyes met Iris’s.

  The look Iris received from Cam was mystifying, lingering but with a meaning she couldn’t quite read. It was like trying to communicate with someone who didn’t speak the same language. If Cam wasn’t so happily engaged, Iris might have read the looks Cam was giving her very differently, but as things stood, she was simply confused. Confused, tipsy, and impossibly aroused every time Cam looked at her that way.

  “I’m always happy to dance with Iris.” It was Jess, of course, throwing her hat into the ring. Though Iris wasn’t yet drunk enough to let that happen. And she was still mad as hell at her.

  “Sorry, Jess, but if I’ve got to dance with Mr. and Mrs. White Picket Fence over there, my card is full. I’ve already promised Gemma and Priti a dance, and I’m certainly not dancing any more than the potatoes I’ve eaten.” She knew the sarcastic comment about Cam and Ryan was needless, but she was feeling the effects of the drink and finding it harder to stay away from her feelings. Jess muttered so
mething inaudible but clearly grouchy in Iris’s direction and yanked Diane to her feet, pulling her toward the large dance floor at the far end of the room.

  * * *

  Iris let Ryan see her to her seat. His gentlemanly behavior made her want to tease him, but she thought better of it, unsure whether he would take the joke or get defensive. He was actually a pretty good dancer, and it had felt strangely comfortable to allow him to twist and turn her as they performed what might have passed for disco dancing to a song by Madonna.

  “You and Ryan have inspired us.” Iris looked up to see Casey and Hazel get up from their seats. “We’re going to throw some shapes as I believe the kids probably never say.” Casey nudged Hazel in the back in the direction of the dance floor as she spoke, and they departed to the sound of Hazel muttering about never eating potatoes again.

  “So, when was the last time you had a man in your arms?” Ryan’s tone was light and obviously playful, and Iris was surprised to see Cam nudge him and give him a dirty look.

  “I’m sorry, Iris. He has no social skills at the best of times and especially not when he’s drinking. Ignore him.”

  “I’m the same, don’t worry. Actually, I was trying to remember. I gave first aid to big Tony when he slipped on a teabag and fell down at work last month. Does that count?”

  Cam and Ryan both laughed, but the mood soured again when Ryan made a comment about resuscitation being a form of foreplay in his book. Cam didn’t look amused, and even Iris thought the comment a little crass. Ryan appeared to be quite drunk, more than he had seemed when they were dancing.

  “Maybe we should give it a whirl?” Priti leaned over and spoke to Iris quietly. “I’m a little anxious Jess will stab me if I dance with you, but I’m willing to take the risk if you are.”

  Iris stood, holding up her hands as if apologizing.

  “I mean, it doesn’t exactly take Hercule Poirot to see she has the serious feels for you. I don’t know how Diane puts up with it.” Priti shook her head.