by Kiki Archer
“I’m not.” She broke free from the hug and unlocked her phone, scrolling quickly to the Twitter app. “Look.”
Andi stared open mouthed at the YouTube clip of her saying, ‘Boo,’ to Bishop Bob and his subsequent shriek.
“If people didn’t know who you were before, they certainly will do now!”
Andi exhaled heavily and flopped onto the swivel chair. “I never meant to scare him or show him up. I was expecting him to sit still and shrug, proving my point that women and equality are nothing to be afraid of.”
Pippa crouched down next to her. “Andi, stop worrying. This is quite possibly the best bit of PR you’ve ever given us. You haven’t shown him up. You were making a point ... and guess what ... the World Wide Web gets it! They’re on your side! You’ve highlighted our cause and brought massive amounts of traffic to our site in the last ten minutes alone. It’s going global, Andi.”
Andi shook her head. “It’s not exactly the publicity we want, is it?”
“Hey, all publicity’s good publicity. You taught me that.” Pippa paused and looked up at her boss. “It’ll be fine.” She took Andi’s hand and squeezed it gently. “I promise.”
Andi bit her bottom lip. “I’m not sure.” She stroked the hand with her thumb in response and managed a smile. “You’re always so positive.”
“You taught me that too,” laughed Pippa, leaning into the chair and whispering into Andi’s ear. “You’re one incredible lady, Ms Armstrong.”
Andi felt the soft brush of Pippa’s cheek and smiled. “Thank you.” She pulled back and looked into Pippa’s kind eyes. “You’re not so bad yourself.” She paused and broke the connection. “But I’m a Mrs, not a Ms.”
Chapter Fifteen
Zara was in her office at the top of the G-Sterling building, banging her fist on her huge office desk and shouting into her mobile phone. “WHAT THE HELL DID YOU THINK YOU WERE DOING? ... It’s on the news! You booing a bishop! ... Yes right now, Andi! ... I’m still at work ... Yes I watched it! ... How did it seem to me? ... It seemed offensive. Juvenile. Cheap. Ill judged ... You looked foolish!” Zara inhaled sharply and tried to lower her tone. “I’m really ashamed of you ... YES I CAN SAY THAT!” She shouted again. “That’s my opinion, and it’s also the opinion of that lady in the audience and that caller on the phone ... NO I HAVEN’T LOOKED AT THE PISSING TWITTER FEED! ... No. No. You’re wrong. It’s gone viral because it’s so offensive! ... It’s on the FUCKING NEWS, ANDI! ... I don’t care how they’re reporting it. The FACT that they’re reporting it, is an issue! ... Sorry, WHAT?? ... Good PR? I bet I know who’s been feeding you that bullshit ... Little Miss fucking sunshine! ... Yes, I am pissed off ... Yes, with you! ... SUPPORT? ... You want my SUPPORT? ... Get real, Andi. Seriously, you’ve made a right tit of yourself this time!” Zara hung up.
****
Andi looked at the screen to see if she had lost connection. Four bars. She always got great connection at her home in St John’s Wood. She sighed and pressed the re-dial button, fully aware that Zara had hung up. It rang through to the answer phone. She glanced at the rainbow clock hanging on the wall in her home office. Zara had not allowed the brightly coloured clock in any other room, saying it was cheap and garish, even though she knew it had been a ‘coming out’ gift from her parents. Andi looked at the rainbow clock with fond memories. 8.00 p.m. If Zara left work now, she may well be back within the hour. Andi swivelled around in her padded chair and looked at the computer screen. It had been non-stop since leaving the studio, with numerous congratulatory calls from Janet and Stella, and a whole host of media enquiries passed on from Pippa. Andi clicked through some more tweets. It wasn’t congratulations that she sought, just understanding. The fact that the hashtag #BooABishop was still trending, was a bi-product of a rather dead end debate, cut short by the station in favour of a sing-a-long with Sonia. Andi leaned back in her chair and exhaled heavily. She knew Zara would have an opinion on the matter, but she had no idea it would be this harsh. She checked the clock again. If she could get everything wrapped up within half an hour, she could greet her wife at the door with the offer of a takeaway and night of television.
Andi clicked on her Twitter connections, pleased with the plan. She scrolled through the list of interactions, smiling at the fact that nearly every third one was an alert to show her that she had a new follower. Pippa had been right. It had brought them more attention; and lots of it. She stopped at a mention from the host of the popular Morning Time programme.
Phil @iPhilScoff Watch @iAndiArmstrong on @iMorningTime tomo at 10am. The hero of the hour. Summing up our dismay with the CofE in 1 word #Boo
She paused and clicked on her email inbox. It was the first she’d heard of it. A new message from Pippa was flashing, informing her of the array of offers they had received and the invites already confirmed. The 10.00 a.m. slot on Morning Time being one of them. The message ended with a smile and a vow to call no later than 9.00 p.m. with the final itinerary for the day. Andi checked the clock and contemplated making the call now. The last thing she needed was an interruption to her planned evening of grovelling. She continued to scroll through the connections. Most tweets seemed positive, most included a link to the YouTube clip, and most saw the funny side of the whole debacle. Most. Andi stopped scrolling at a message from Bethy.
Bethy @iWatchThemFall2 U have done it now. No going back. This is the end for you @iAndiArmstrong Trust me. I will make sure of it. #NastyPayback
Andi reached into the top drawer of her desk for her notebook. She scanned down the list of blocked Twitter accounts, uneasy at the familiarity. She tapped her finger on a name. Beth @iWatchThemFall. She read her hand scrawled note. Blocked on Feb 28th. Andi glanced back at the screen. The user had clearly set up another account. She wrote down Bethy’s details and pressed the block button. The message disappeared.
****
Zara walked quickly through the two tall pillars of number six Wellington Place. She clipped up the short path in her noisy high heels and glanced over her shoulder. Nothing. She reached into her bag and removed her keys, twisting them quickly in the lock, frustrated that the door wasn’t opening fast enough. She paused and scanned the empty street once more, pleased that the only shadows seemed to be the ones coming from the street lamps. She took a deep breath and used her shoulder to push open the door. She turned into the house, jumping at the sight of Andi in her dressing gown. “Shit, you scared me!” Zara thrust a large bunch of flowers forwards. “These are for you.” She shrugged her shoulders. “Sorry.”
Andi took the expensive bunch of pink and red roses, and stroked one of the soft petals. “You don’t have to be sorry. I deserved it. You were right. I made a fool out of myself. The interview was cut short and I didn’t have any opportunity to actually discuss the issues.”
Zara quickly pushed the door closed and slid over the security chain. “I should have watched the whole thing before I called you. I only saw the section on the news and I freaked out.” Zara shook her coat off and walked over to the antique coat stand. “I actually thought you handled the whole incident pretty well.” She smiled. “I’ve just watched it on my laptop. Am I forgiven?”
“And forgotten,” smiled Andi.
“Thank fuck you’re not one of those women who like to analyse everything.” Zara sat down on the chaise longue and flicked off her high heels.
“Life’s too short,” shrugged Andi, “plus I know how you work.”
“Do you now? And how’s that then, sweetie?”
“Blow off first and think about it later.”
Zara collapsed backwards onto the soft velvet. “I’m a shit wife, aren’t I?”
Andi gently placed the flowers on the floor and squashed in next to Zara, straightening her dressing gown as she got comfortable. “You’re not a shit wife. You’re just a stressed wife, with an incompetent doctor who’s not quite got your medication right.” She paused. “And I know you think my job’s rather silly compared to yours, bu
t it’s important to me and I enjoy it.” Andi squeezed her wife’s thigh. “And I am trying to make more time for us.” She smiled. “I’d love it if we could just snuggle up tonight with a takeaway and a spot of trashy television.”
Zara raised her eyebrows. “Really?”
“Really,” nodded Andi, “even though I am booked in for three television appearances tomorrow.”
Zara sat up. “You had to drop that in, didn’t you?”
“I’m just teasing.”
Zara swung her legs off the chaise longue. “So you’re not on TV tomorrow?”
“Well, I am, but it’s fine. There’s no prep. They just want to chat to me about today’s debate and the work of Pride Unity.”
“Ooo, look at you.”
“Oh Zara, stop being such a grouch.”
Zara stood up. “Why don’t you stop-”
The sound of the doorbell stopped them both.
“Is Pippa coming round?” asked Zara, anxiously glancing at the front door.
Andi shook her head and stood up, walking towards the door. “I really think you should go back to the doctor.” She peeped through the spy glass and slid the chain free, reaching for the handle and opening the door with a smile. “Hello.”
“Hi, Zara asked me around.”
Andi pulled the door wide and stepped to the side. “Please excuse the dressing gown, Zara didn’t tell me she had a meeting.”
Melody pulled the brown file closer into her chest and stepped into the warm house, pleased to be out of the cold. “There’s a lot your wife doesn’t tell you.” She winked. “I hear it’s your birthday on Saturday.”
Andi closed the front door and pulled her dressing gown even tighter around her chest. “Oh no, please tell me this isn’t some last minute bit of surprise planning?”
Melody grinned at Zara who had moved in front of the old fashioned hall radiator. “You might be in for a surprise, or two,” she said.
Andi frowned. “Sorry, I thought Zara said you weren’t able to come to the party?”
Melody slapped herself on the back of the wrist. “Oops, I keep forgetting what I’m allowed to say and what I’m not. But yes, don’t worry, Andi, I’ll be there.” She smiled at Zara. “Come on then, we need to finalise our plans.”
“Right, I’ll leave you ladies to it,” nodded Andi heading towards her office. “Are you okay with the drinks in the lounge or shall I put the kettle on?”
Zara turned and faced her wife apologetically. “We’ll be fine with the whiskey.” She paused. “And I promise we won’t be long.”
“Take as long as you need,” said Andi, pleased with the opportunity to see if the final itinerary had come through.
Zara waited for Andi’s office door to close, then spun back around to Melody. She grabbed her by the arm and hissed under her breath. “Don’t say another word.”
Melody allowed herself to be pulled along the corridor and into the plush lounge, quite enjoying the excitement of it all. “You’ve never shown me this room before.”
“My fucking wife doesn’t even know you’ve been to my fucking house before!” Zara continued to speak through gritted teeth. “What the hell are you doing here?” She shut the door and squeezed Melody’s arm even harder.
“Stop it. You’re hurting me.”
Zara flung the arm back to its owner and headed to the spirit cabinet, reaching for the bottle of amber liquid and pouring a hearty amount into a crystal tumbler. “Start talking,” she hissed.
Melody straightened herself out and placed the brown file onto the coffee table. “I just popped round to let you know that I can make Saturday.”
“I didn’t even invite you!” sneered Zara, between glugs.
“You were meant to though, weren’t you?” Melody raised an eyebrow. “How naughty of you. What must Andi think when none of your closest friends from G-Sterling are able to make her party? What excuses did you come up with this time?”
“It was you following me on the way home, wasn’t it?”
Melody frowned. “No. I waited at my desk for ages. I told you earlier that I wanted to talk, but Anne said you’d already left. So I got a taxi over.”
Zara re-filled her glass. “For fuck’s sake, Melody, there’s nothing to talk about, and what the fuck is my secretary doing telling you my day to day movements?”
Melody shrugged. “She was the only one left in the office. I didn’t think she was allowed to go home until you did?”
“I don’t have to explain my whereabouts to you.” Zara took the bottle of whiskey and the topped up tumbler to the sofa and sat down, placing both items onto the coffee table next to the brown file. “Fine. Let’s sort this out.” She looked up at Melody. “What do you want?”
Melody walked slowly around the low table and placed her bottom provocatively on the seat next to Zara’s, rubbing her boss’s thigh as she sat. “I want you.”
“Not happening, sweetie. What’s next on your list of demands? Pay rise? New position? Extended holiday?”
Melody was undeterred. She gently rubbed her hand up the inside of Zara’s thigh. “I want what we had.” She started to caress between Zara’s legs. “I’d rather share you than not have you at all.”
Zara exhaled heavily. “Stop it.”
Melody lifted her hand and rubbed the hard nipples that were visible through Zara’s work shirt. “No. At work you always tell us to go with our instincts.”
Zara moaned. “We’re not at work.”
Melody gently bit the side of Zara’s neck. “Good, that means I can do this.” She squeezed a nipple through the fabric and pressed harder in between Zara’s legs.
“Stop it,” whispered Zara half-heartedly.
“No. I know you want me.”
“No, I just want sex,” growled Zara, unable to resist, pressing her lips hard against Melody’s and reaching out for her breasts. She kissed her with fire. “Touch me,” she gasped.
Melody immediately shoved her hand down the waist of Zara’s trousers and plunged her fingers deep inside, drawing out the wetness and rubbing with force.
“Faster,” moaned Zara, spreading her legs and enjoying the pressure.
Melody edged herself forwards, angling her arm so she could work more freely. “Like this?”
“Yes, yes, keep going, sweetie, keep going.” Zara closed her eyes and threw her head back against the sofa. She tilted her pelvis upwards and moaned at the perfect rhythm of Melody’s fingers.
****
Andi glanced at the rainbow clock. She really ought to go in and be social, but this was too good an opportunity to miss. If she could get hold of Pippa now, then there would be no interruption to their evening and no need for Zara to get grouchy. She dialled Pippa’s number once again, hoping that she’d pick up.
****
Zara grabbed a cushion and pressed it against her own face, feeling the dryness of its material on her tongue as her mouth opened in a silent scream of pleasure.
Melody felt Zara’s hand clasp on top of hers. It was always the same, like she wanted to suck the last drip of pleasure from the pressure.
Zara whispered. “Fuck, sweetie. That was good.”
Melody used her other hand to peep under the cushion. “Look at what you’d be missing.” She pulled the barrier away and looked into Zara’s eyes. “I’m wet if you want me?”
“You know I fucking want you, sweetie, now pull up your skirt.”
Melody did as instructed and watched as her boss swivelled off the sofa and onto her knees on the floor. There was a desire in her eyes; a desire mismatched with detachment. Melody had noticed it before. It was like Zara was taken over by a sexual rage of wanting, where nothing else seemed to matter.
“I love it when you wear suspenders.” Zara inhaled deeply. “It means I can just pull your thong to one side and take you in my mouth.” She gasped and did just that.
Melody felt a surge of adrenaline course through her body. She leaned backwards on the sofa, pushing her
bottom towards the edge of the seat. She tilted her head towards the door, watching the handle and praying it moved.
****
Andi counted the rings. “Nine ... and ten.” Pippa’s phone went to voicemail once again. Andi tapped the red button and placed the mobile back down on her desk. “Bugger.” The last thing she needed was a phone call from Pippa interrupting their evening. She checked the rainbow clock. Melody’s impromptu arrival had in fact given her a much needed excuse to send on the details of the vicious tweet to the human resources department at Proud Unity. They usually handled things well, assessing the threat, informing the police when necessary, and offering advice when needed. Andi nodded and spun around on her chair. It would be fine, she reasoned, standing up and opening the door to the hall. She pulled her dressing gown tighter into her body, still slightly embarrassed about her level of undress. It was so unlike Zara to invite a work colleague round. She smiled as she reached for the lounge door handle, aware that it must be something to do with her party.
****
Melody saw the door handle move and almost came on the spot. The power rushing through her body was like nothing she had ever felt before. She ripped at her shirt, sending a button flying across the coffee table and causing her tits to spill out on display.
****
Andi pressed on the handle, stopping suddenly at the sound of her phone. She pulled the handle gently back into position and scampered back across the hall, skidding into her office. She reached for her mobile and swiped the screen. “Pippa! Phew, I was hoping it would be you. So, what’s on the agenda for tomorrow then?”
****
Zara looked up. “What the fuck are you doing?”
Melody quickly pulled her shirt back into position. “Nothing.”