“Remind me of your name?” she asked, pointing towards the young woman with her pen.
“Francesca,” the pupil answered, waggling her head like Ruby ought to know.
Ruby pushed away the annoyance that was building. “We’re concentrating on the top diagram at the moment. The lungs.”
“Sorry.” Francesca rolled her eyes, and her classmates tittered a bit in amusement.
Ruby gave them all a few minutes to look at the picture before tapping the paragraph next to it. “Could someone volunteer to read this passage?”
As expected, no one volunteered.
“Right then, thanks, guys.” Ruby’s gaze settled on Francesca. “Francesca? I’m nominating you to read.”
“No thanks.” Francesca’s gaze shifted to outside again.
“Okay,” Ruby replied slowly, and chose another pupil.
By the end of class, Francesca had seemed more interested, had joked a few times about some of the diagrams and how they all looked like genitalia—something Ruby was very used to, and had answered a few questions correctly. The class left in little groups, and Ruby grabbed her things, leaving close behind them.
She went via her office to grab her lunch things and caught Alexander on the way out.
“Ready for your date?” he asked as he walked towards the door, his own briefcase in his hand.
“It’s not a date,” Ruby scoffed, throwing him a random hand gesture. “It’s just two people seeing a play together.”
“I know you think she’s attractive,” he stated, leaning against the door-frame, clearly curious.
“Anyone would think she was. She’s got the cheekbones of a model and the height to top it off. It still doesn’t mean we’re going on a date.”
“Does she like women?”
“I have absolutely no idea,” Ruby said, a little too harshly. She calmed herself with a hand to her chest. “It’s also completely irrelevant.”
“You’re single. She’s probably single.”
“I wouldn’t know, I haven’t asked her.”
“Does she have a wedding ring?”
“Oh, just leave it, Alexander.” She shot him a hard look and he backed out of the office.
“Just asking. See you Monday.”
“Have fun at your mum’s.”
He rolled his eyes, and she felt herself grow calmer. They exchanged an affectionate look. Time with Alexander’s mother was never “fun” as far as Ruby could fathom. He lived close by, took her to the gym twice a week, and shopping on a Saturday. She wasn’t elderly, but apparently she wasn’t convinced of this fact and used Alexander as taxi, carer, and confidant. Ruby wished he’d find friends his own age, rather than relying on his mother and his PlayStation, for company.
She left with a spring in her step but a worry in her mind. Was it a date? Of course not. We barely know each other.
Chapter 6
Mel had exchanged her usual walking boots for a single, sensible but clean trainer for the evening. It wasn’t what she’d usually wear to this sort of thing, but needs must as the crutches drove. She sniggered at her own thoughts as she hauled herself to her feet and hopped to the front door to answer the insistent knocking that was making the wood shake.
Ruby stood on the doorstep, fist raised to knock again. Her face was creased in a frown but softened as her gaze connected with Mel’s. “Oh. Right. Yep, crutches.”
“Did you forget?” Mel laughed as she pulled the door open properly and hopped back to allow Ruby into her bungalow.
“I suppose I didn’t connect them with the length of time it would take you to…” She shook her head and laughed. “What a plonker.”
Mel took in Ruby’s attire—her beige jacket and a pair of smart black trousers. Sensible black shoes. Ruby’s hair was neat, the wavy pieces loose and shiny.
She led Ruby into the kitchen and slid both crutches into one hand as she pulled on her jacket; the extra hand tugging at the shoulder indicating Ruby was helping her. “Thank you.”
Ruby brushed it off with a shrug. “Are you ready? Do you want anything getting from anywhere?”
“I’m ready,” Mel said, slipping the bars of her crutches into her hands and leaning on them. She nodded once.
They made their way out to Ruby’s car, a blue-grey Mini Cooper. Very posh. Mel twisted her lips against a grin and fit her tall frame into the passenger seat, her crutches sliding in beside her leg.
Ruby drove carefully, her phone plugged in as a navigation device, telling her where to go. Mel would’ve given her directions, but she was content to allow the phone to dictate their journey. “Thanks for coming with me,” Mel said, feeling as if she’d said it a few too many times, but wanting to reiterate her gratitude. Ruby didn’t have to say yes; hadn’t had to help her out.
“It’s fine,” Ruby replied, her fingertips tapping the steering wheel as she drove. “Nothing like a bit of Shakespeare to round off the week.”
“I got the tickets ages ago.” Mel pressed her hand to her jacket pocket and felt the shape of her purse, where the tickets were safely tucked inside. “James was going to come, then it fell on the same day as his girlfriend’s birthday, so I was going to cut my losses and just come by myself. See if anyone in the street wanted the extra ticket. Then this happened.” She gestured towards the cast, which stopped just below her knee and covered her whole foot apart from her toes.
“Good job I was available.” They snuck a grin at one another, and Mel felt warmth spreading through her bones.
They parked close by, and Ruby helped Mel out of her little car, despite Mel’s protests. After a short walk in the evening air, they reached the restaurant. Mel swung on her crutches up the single step, feeling the lingering heat of Ruby’s hand close to the small of her back. She seems to like it there. Or perhaps it’s simply her inner nurse kicking in.
The Italian restaurant was small and dimly lit, with low-hanging shades over each table and gleaming cutlery that had been polished to perfection. They were shown to their table, and Mel sat down as carefully as she could, stowing her crutches against the corner.
They were handed their menus. Ruby took hers and immediately pushed her glasses firmly up her nose, her eyes flicking quickly across the options.
Mel looked at her own menu and blinked hard. As usual, the black words jumped about on the bright white page. Touching her jacket pocket, she contemplated getting out her glasses. They would make it so much easier for her to read. No. We barely know one another, and I don’t want to have to answer the inevitable questions my specs will create. I want to make a good impression. I don’t want to see that look in her eyes, the one they all get when they realise my… issue. She could hide it. She’d done it before.
So she stared at the menu, held it casually with a light look of interest on her face, and studied the top item for a good minute. Margherita. That’ll do.
They ordered drinks and a pizza each, and the waiter took their menus away. Thank goodness. She watched the mess of words leave the table with a long sigh.
Ruby was smiling at her, the soft light from the restaurant reflecting against her glasses. “So, do you go to the theatre often?”
Mel nodded. “I used to. Certainly before I went to uni the first time.”
“When was that?”
“Seven years ago.”
“Ah, so you must’ve been the first lot to do the full degree?”
“That’s right.” Mel was impressed. “I suppose you would know, being a lecturer.”
“I remember it being a huge thing. I really can’t believe it was only a six-week course before.”
“I can’t believe there are still paramedics working on the road, doing the same job I do, with only six weeks of training.”
“Madness.”
The waiter brought their drinks—rosé wine for Ruby and a
diet coke for Mel. Mel lifted her glass and waited for Ruby to clink her own against it.
“I suppose we ought to toast something,” Mel said, looking to Ruby for a suggestion.
“To clean slates,” Ruby replied, “and friendship.”
“And making a massive wad of money for the Air Ambulance.”
“And not killing any plants in the process.” Ruby’s eyes widened. “Or children.”
“I’ll drink to that.” They sipped.
“So, are you looking to work outside the ambulance service when you get your ECP qualification?” Ruby asked.
Mel nodded. “As you can see, I’m not getting any younger. I’m not going to be able to carry thirty-stone patients over their stylish thresholds forever.”
“Good point. Where do you want to work?”
“Minor injuries, maybe.” Mel shrugged. “I hear they’re starting to employ ECPs in out-of-hours GP services too.”
“I read about that.” Ruby placed her glass down and fiddled with the stem. “Do you think you’ll have the skills required to assess patients at that level?”
“What do you think I do now?” Mel replied, her gut twisting defensively. Not this again.
“I’m asking because I’m genuinely interested.” Ruby caught and held her gaze. “Not because I don’t think you have the skills.”
“In that case, yes.” Still, she wasn’t quite convinced. “We don’t just scoop and go, you know.”
Ruby held up her hands in a submissive action.
“And with the ECP training, I’ll have more specialised assessment skills.”
“Sorry,” Ruby said, her eyes crinkling in such a way that Mel had to smile.
“Let’s change the subject. What’s the last play you went to see?”
“Hay Fever.” Ruby rolled her eyes. “A farce, which, I know, is probably a guilty pleasure in your eyes but…”
“I love a good farce, actually.” Mel touched her chin. “Isn’t that the one with the fabulous middle-aged actress with the libido of a…” A typical phrase eluded her. “…lion? And the family that all exchange partners several times.”
Chuckles reverberated from the other side of the table. “That’s it. It’s such a scream.”
“It is. I’ve seen it twice.”
Something akin to admiration flickered into Ruby’s eyes. “Have you?”
“Yep.”
“What else have you seen?”
“Some high-brow plays. Pinter.” She winced. “Ibsen. Chekov. All the usual.”
“Did you fall asleep during any of them?”
“Says the woman who agreed to accompany me to a Shakespeare play.”
“Oh, give over.” The smile remained on Ruby’s face until their pizzas arrived.
Mel looked enviously over at Ruby’s meal, something with olives and mushrooms and anchovies. If you were a normal human being, you could have had something like that. She squashed the self-critical thought away. The voice in her head sounding far too much like her teacher in Year Four—who had become so exasperated with her slow learning that she had started to ignore her—for her to let it linger. She’d let that inner voice control her actions, her self-beliefs, and her sense of self-worth for far too long. She wasn’t that person anymore. She’d proven it wrong. In so many ways, she’d proven them all wrong. Besides, what did pizza toppings matter? Food was food, and an admission that she had trouble reading wasn’t worth the more complex tastes she could have experienced.
Was it?
They tucked into their meals. Mel couldn’t help chuckling at Ruby’s decision to use a knife and fork to eat her pizza. She herself picked up each slice and ate with her hands, smacking her lips when the tangy tomato and gentle cheese touched her tongue. It was herby too, and she realised she was a lot hungrier than she had first thought.
Ruby eyed her as she sucked tomato sauce from her fingers and Mel let out a snort. “You’re allowed to eat finger food with your fingers, you know?”
“Restaurants don’t serve finger food,” Ruby countered, sticking a piece of neatly cut-up pizza into her mouth. It was so small it didn’t leave a trace on her lips. The fork emerged looking pristine. “That’s a buffet you’re thinking of.”
Mel continued to eat with her fingers, and Ruby continued to eat daintily with her knife and fork. When Mel sucked another drop of herby grease from her thumb, Ruby rolled her eyes.
With their bellies full, Mel got the bill, and they left the restaurant. Mel fastened the top button of her jacket once they were outside, but it took her so long and she was in such a fumble that Ruby stepped in front of her.
“Let me help.”
Mel huffed frustratedly but dropped her arms to her sides. She felt like a child having her coat done up by her mother. Looking at the floor in a determined fashion, she allowed Ruby to button up her jacket, her careful fingers pulling the lapels round and smoothing them flat. Her hands lingered, and Mel looked up, curious to see Ruby’s eyes.
“Okay?”
Mel nodded and caught a whiff of Ruby’s perfume, something subtle and flowery. It made her think of summer. Time spent with her father on the allotment, deadheading flowers that were drooping, and enjoying those in full bloom. The roses he grew, always fragrant and pale pink, her mother’s favourite colour. She could still feel the sun on her face as she sat on the grassy paths between the beds.
They made their way slowly, and with plenty of time, to the theatre. Ruby’s hand remained at Mel’s back as she ascended the steep steps, and Mel was grateful for it. Once she’d got to the top, she was dismayed to discover she was panting.
Ruby rubbed her shoulder. “Just rest a minute.”
“This is ludicrous,” Mel said, her cheeks going hot. “I can usually climb a lot more the one measly flight of stairs.”
“You’re healing.” Ruby’s hand on her shoulder was comforting. “Give yourself a break.”
When they got inside, Ruby bought a programme. They shuffled up yet more stairs and through an archway into the Royal Circle. Mel eyed the fold-down seats with disdain. Why can’t they make them more easily accessible? With Ruby’s hand steadily on her back, Mel lowered herself awkwardly into the aisle seat. She stowed her crutches beside her hip and shifted about, grimacing when the old, lumpy seat prodded at her backside.
Ruby’s gaze on her was soft, and Mel wondered where the opinionated, harsh woman had gone. I like this caring person so much better. When Ruby offered Mel the program, Mel shook her head and pretended to be highly interested in the stage curtain.
The play, as it turned out, was well worth the toil in getting there. Mel turned her eyes towards Ruby a couple of times, mostly when two female actors were sharing a kiss, and discovered bright eyes and an expression of content on her companion. No issue with ladies kissing ladies, then. That made her happy. At some point she would come out to Ruby, and the fact that Ruby didn’t seem bothered about the—let’s call it what it is—lesbian activity onstage went in her favour and would make the revelation much less stressful.
Mel fiddled with the seat arm and found Ruby’s hand next to hers, their little fingers brushing. She looked properly at her in the semi-darkness. Ruby turned to her as well. Mel threw caution to the wind and brushed her little finger deliberately against Ruby’s. Ruby simply smiled at her, turned back to the play, and returned her own hand to her lap.
I don’t know what she’s thinking. She didn’t slap me, but she didn’t return the gesture.
After the house lights had gone up, the murmurs of the audience mostly positive, Ruby placed her hand on Mel’s knee. “No rush. Better to let everyone else get out first.”
“Right.” Mel tapped her good foot on the seat in front of her.
“I really enjoyed that,” Ruby said as she hauled Mel to her feet.
Mel chuckled, gripping tightly onto Ru
by’s shoulders as she stood, and then turned to collect her crutches. Their journey out of the circle was slow, but Mel could feel Ruby’s hand in its usual place, so she couldn’t complain.
“Really enjoyed it.” Ruby was beaming, and as they pulled their coats back on, she stepped up to help Mel with her buttons.
“I’m good,” Mel said, giving her a suspicious look.
“It’s okay.” Ruby brushed Mel’s protests off with a wave of her hand. “Let me.”
Mel stood like a lemon and watched the careful fingers as they fastened her buttons. Short nails. She smiled. Just a bit. “I did some drama at school,” Mel said as they walked out into the evening hustle and bustle.
“So did I.”
“O level was great. We did various excerpts from various things. I think we did Blood Brothers.”
“Oh, that’s such a good play. Have you seen the musical?”
“I have.” Mel looked across at Ruby, who was walking a foot away from her, without the usual hand by her back. She must think I’m okay on level ground. If I pretended to slip, I’m sure she’d grab me. She shook her head and pushed away the amusing thought. “When we did it at school, I got to kiss my crush.”
“Ah,” Ruby said, her grin widening and her eyes glinting in the streetlights. “That old chestnut.”
“She didn’t complain,” Mel said, deliberately throwing in the pronoun, and looking quickly at Ruby to gauge her reaction. “She seemed pretty interested in practising that particular scene.”
“Lucky you.” Flicking her eyebrows up a few times, Ruby chuckled. “I can’t imagine having managed to bag one of my crushes as a teenager.”
“Who did you like?”
Ruby blushed and stopped walking. She turned to Mel with a tilted head. “I was reasonably picky at school.”
Is that all I’m getting? Mel scrutinised the brunette standing in front of her, her dark hair reflecting the orange of the street lamps.
Ruby indicated the car park. “Come on, let’s get you home.”
Rolling her eyes and very much none the wiser, Mel limped across the concrete to Ruby’s car. She continues to be an enigma.
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