by Jade Winters
“What you said about getting away? I don’t have as much work as I thought. How does this weekend sound?”
CHAPTER 21
Rachel surfed the Internet, looking at nothing in particular. She couldn’t get her mind in gear. She was meant to be coming up for new ideas for next month’s edition of the magazine but all she could think about was Kathryn. Is this what love feels like? She realised that most of her waking hours now revolved around thinking about her. She looked down when she heard her mobile phone vibrating on her desk. Swooping it up, she peered onto the small screen — Kathryn. She smiled to herself as she opened the message. Kathryn was overjoyed with the interview and again invited her to the kittens’ home coming.
Completely exhilarated by the fact that the piece was so well received, she brought up the interview on her computer and pressed the print button. She waited patiently whilst the machine chugged it out. She hadn’t told Gloria she had finished it — she wanted the go ahead from Kathryn first. Pushing herself away from her desk, she swirled around in her seat before standing and strolling to Gloria’s office, the papers wafting at her side. She tapped her knuckle against the door.
“Come in,” Gloria called out.
Rachel pushed open the door and held the papers up in the air.
“Done and dusted you’ll be pleased to know, and all done without incident, I may add.”
A wide smile spread across Gloria’s features. “I’m very glad to hear that,” she said, taking the papers.
“I’ve just got to do the before and after section with the pictures but that’ll only take me an hour,” Rachel said. “I did tell you there was nothing to worry about.”
“Yeah, well, we’ll see,” Gloria said as she began to read the piece in silence. Rachel took a seat in front of her, twisting a strand of her hair. After several minutes, Gloria pushed the papers to one side. It was several seconds before she spoke.
“Rachel, you have excelled yourself this time, you really have — you have captured the heart and soul of this woman without all that ....” She searched for the right word, “gushiness. I think she will love it.”
“Um, I’ve already shown it to her.”
“And?”
“Yes, she liked it.”
“Just liked it, that I don’t believe that for a second.”
“Okay how about ...” Rachel said, thinking for a few seconds, “she was dazzled by my writing prowess and she can’t wait for her adoring public to read all about her in our wonderful magazine. How about that?”
“Hmmm better. Well done, Rachel,” Gloria said seriously.
“Thanks.”
“So what are your plans now?”
“Plans?” Rachel asked, frowning.
“Yes, with Kathryn.”
“I’ll be attending the cats’ welcome home party next week but beyond that there aren’t any plans.”
“That I find hard to believe, very hard.”
“That may be, but it’s true.”
CHAPTER 22
“Hello,” Rachel said into the mouthpiece as she laid her tea cup on the coffee table. Her heart thumped against her chest. Was this the moment she had been waiting for —dreading?
“Hi, Rachel, before you worry — nothing’s wrong with your mum, but I wondered if you could pop by today for a chat?” Helen, the manager at the Precious Moments care home said. Her shrill voice caused Rachel to hold the phone away from her ear whilst she spoke.
“Sure,” she managed to reply, once the pounding resumed to its normal rhythm.
Before she could ask what it was about, Helen quickly said, “Great, see you about five-ish.” Then the line went dead.
Looking at the clock and noting the time was just after ten, she let out a long groan. Her one day off and she was having to go to the most depressing place on earth.
As evening closed in, Rachel pressed the illuminated bell on the door of care home. As she had explained to Kathryn, it was the only dementia care home within a two-mile radius from where she lived — she hadn’t wanted her mother to be further away than that. She waited patiently as a buxom figure appeared behind the frosted glass door.
“So glad you could come,” Helen boomed, her ruddy complexion matching the red top she wore. Rachel was taken aback slightly — though never miserable, she had never seen this happy side of Helen before, though ecstatic would have been a more appropriate description.
Helen ushered her into a small enclosed area. As if programmed, Rachel did what she normally did when she entered the care home — focused her attention directly on Helen so she could block out the depressing surroundings. She was so focused on Helen, she didn’t at once notice that the familiar smell of disinfectant and urine had been replaced by the smell of — fresh paint.
“Has someone been painting?” Rachel asked as she walked through the door into what looked like another reception room. She stopped in her tracks as though her feet were glued to the floor and looked around her in amazement. The walls, which had once been white but had yellowed over the years, had been repainted in light blue and were now home to modern abstract art prints. Patterned winged arm-chairs replaced the plastic moulded furniture that had been previously screwed down into the floor. Fresh lilies stood tall and proud in a large glass vase on the oak reception desk.
Rachel’s mouth dropped open. “What on earth has happened here?” she asked, dumbfounded.
“There’s more,” Helen said, half dragging her to the lounge, her pink ankle-length skirt swishing and swaying as she moved hurriedly to their destination. Just like the reception area, the lounge had been transformed — all freshly painted with new furniture replacing the old. Sitting amongst four elderly women was a familiar figure — though she could only see the back of her, she would recognise Kathryn’s hair anywhere. As though sensing she was there, Kathryn turned around — her face beaming.
“I can’t believe you did this!” Rachel said, still in shock.
“Oh, it was nothing. It was Rob and the team who did all the hard work,” she said modestly. “I just puffed up a few cushions here and there.”
Rachel moved towards her and embraced her. “Kathryn, you will never know how much this means to me,” she said, her voice breaking with emotion.
Kathryn rubbed her back affectionately. “It was a pleasure,” she said, drawing her back to look at her. “I think you should go and have a look at your mum’s room,” she said gently, wiping away Rachel’s tears.
Rachel gave Kathryn a quick smile and turned to walk the short distance to her mother’s room. Tentatively pushing the heavy door open, she peeped in, unaware of what she was going to find. Her mum sat comfortably on a pea-mint arm chair by the window. The room had been painted a buttercup yellow. It was as if, just by changing the colours in the room, the energy had changed. Her mother’s greying hair was loose about her shoulders, her face leaning on the wing of the chair. Reaching down, Rachel placed her hand over her mother’s bony hand — she could feel the coolness of her skin. The blue blanket that had covered her had fallen to the floor. Picking it up, she covered her hands.
“I’m here, mum,” Rachel said, choking back the tears. She gently stroked her long strands repetitively, speaking to her in soft tones, telling her how much she loved her and missed her. She watched her for a long while, thinking about all the suffering she must have gone through in silence. She imagined that each line etched in her mother’s face told a story of its own. She couldn’t shake the feeling that love was responsible for all of the heartache that her mother and father had been through. Lost in her thoughts, she only became aware that someone was in the room when she felt a hand on her shoulder
“Rachel,” the nurse said softly. “We’re about to serve dinner now.”
“Okay.” Rachel bent over her mother and kissed her forehead, before turning and returning to the day lounge. She was surprised to see Kathryn still there, helping one of the residents with a picture she was colouring in.
“Ahh,
there’s my friend now,” Kathryn said, bending down to the elderly woman. “You keep up the good work, Mrs Alders, it’s excellent.”
The woman smiled at her, as Kathryn gave her shoulder a slight squeeze.
“How is she?” she asked as Rachel walked up beside her.
“The same as always—non-responsive. I sometimes wonder if she’d be better off ....” She couldn’t bring herself to finish the sentence.
Kathryn reached out to her and gently squeezed her arm. “Can I give you a lift home?”
“Yes, please,” Rachel said as she blinked the tears away.
CHAPTER 23
Endless rows of carbon copy shops filled the street, each looking as dilapidated as the next.
“It’s just on your left,” Rachel said as they neared her home in Kennington, a relatively disadvantaged area in South London.
Kathryn pulled the car up by the side of the road. The engine fading to a meaningless drone.
“Where do you live?” Kathryn asked, looking ahead of her.
“Above there,” Rachel said, pointing towards a funeral parlour.
Kathryn craned her neck to follow Rachel’s direction. “Are you kidding?”
Rachel laughed. “No, I really do.”
“Is that not a bit ... creepy?” Kathryn asked, searching her face.
“Not really. When I first moved in, it took some getting used to, seeing them bringing in black body bags. My bedroom overlooks the back entrance, but I’m used to it now.”
“It’s a good thing you don’t live alone.”
“Do you want to come up for coffee?” Rachel asked as she turned to look at her.
Kathryn thought about it for a few seconds. “I’d love to but I’ve got a few things to tie up at the office.”
“Okay,” Rachel said as she opened the car door. She paused, then slammed the door shut and leaned towards Kathryn, enveloping her in her arms and pulling her towards her. Kathryn didn’t resist. For several moments, they just held each other. Reluctantly Rachel released her, moving back so her face was only inches away from Kathryn’s. “Thank you, Kathryn ... for everything.” The raw emotion in her voice was unmistakable.
Kathryn reached up and gently stroked Rachel’s cheek, no longer caring what Rachel saw in her eyes. Slowly, Rachel inched her face closer to hers, stopping just before their lips met. Kathryn turned away.
“I’m sorry,” Rachel said, as she abruptly opened the door and exited the car.
Looking at the clock on the dashboard, Kathryn sighed heavily, trying her hardest not to think of the vulnerability she had seen in Rachel’s eyes. She couldn’t give in to the way she was feeling. She had desperately wanted to kiss her, to touch her. She gripped the steering wheel, watching her hands pale as she squeezed it tighter. She knew it was a dangerous game to give her thoughts a free rein — she had to control them, otherwise who knew what would happen. Through the windscreen she saw a light go on in Rachel’s flat. I can’t, I just can’t. She fought with her inner demons. Think of the consequences, think of Gareth and all that he’s done for you think of ... Rachel.
Instinctively she turned the engine off, grabbed her leather bag from the back seat and stepped out of the car.
It’s just coffee with a friend. She walked up to the front door and paused before pressing the buzzer.
“Hello?” a tinny voice answered through the crackling reception.
“Is that offer of coffee still open?” Kathryn asked.
Immediately, she heard a buzz as the front door unlocked.
“Just give the door a good shove,” Rachel called through the intercom.
Using more energy than she needed, Kathryn pushed the door open and walked into a dark small hallway. Stacks of newspapers lay on the floor, delivery leaflets on the sideboard. She heard footsteps coming down the stairs.
“I’m glad you changed your mind,” Rachel said as she reached her, a hint of a smile on her lips.
“I realised I had more time.”
They stood in darkness of the hall, a shard of light coming from an open doorway at the top of the stairs.
“I’m glad,” Rachel said, reaching out to her and taking her hand. “You really don’t know how much it means to me, what you did for my mum.”
Kathryn smiled at her but didn’t speak, fearing her voice would betray her nerves. In the limited space, she could feel the warmth of Rachel’s body, causing her heart beat to ricochet against her chest. It flashed through her mind how easy it would be to reach out and touch Rachel, to pull her near, feel the thickness of her hair, the taste of her ....
“Come on up,” Rachel said, breaking the moment — half twisting away, she led Kathryn up the flight of stairs.
“I hope you don’t mind instant coffee,” Rachel said as they reached the landing.
“Not at all,” Kathryn said, exhaling.
“Mind your step,” Rachel warned as she entered the flat. Kathryn followed her, stepping over a thick raised block of wood, into a cramped but clean flat.
“I’ll just put the kettle on, take a seat,” Rachel said as she showed her into the lounge.
Kathryn eyed her surroundings and, spotting a chair by the window, walked over and sat down. Though the room was small, it had been decorated in a way that made the most of it by using light colours on the walls and furnishings. She watched Rachel in the small kitchenette, all traces of sadness now gone — the happy-go-lucky woman was back.
“I have a present for you,” Rachel said as she stepped back into the lounge. “I was going to give it to you next week but since you’re here now ....”
“You needn’t have done that,” Kathryn protested.
“I wanted to. It’s in my bedroom,” Rachel said, gesturing for Kathryn to follow her. “I won’t bite,” she teased.
Kathryn stood up and followed Rachel to her bedroom.
“Now before you come in here,” Rachel said, holding the door handle. “Don’t get any ideas about transforming it. We should be moving out of here in a few weeks.”
“Oh, where you planning on moving to?” Kathryn asked, hoping it was nearby.
“Battersea.”
“Nice.” Relief shot through her.
“My dad recently died, and he left his house to me,” Rachel said in an emotionless voice.
“I’m so sorry — about your dad, not the house.”
Rachel smiled. “Don’t be, I hadn’t seen him in a long time. The first I heard about him was when his solicitor contacted me about his will.”
“That must have come as a shock.”
“It was. I’d thought he’d forgotten all about me.”
“Apparently not.”
Rachel pushed open the bedroom door and switched on the light. The small room was neat and tidy — a double bed, single wardrobe and a desk were placed strategically around the room. An alcove containing rows and rows of shelves groaned under the weight of books and magazines.
Rachel reached down the side of her wardrobe and extracted a large canvas wrapped in white paper. Lifting it up, she stood it on the bed.
“Here you go, it’s nothing much. It’s just a thank you gift, you know for the interview and everything,” Rachel said.
“Thank you,” Kathryn said as she gently unwrapped the sheet of tissue, revealing an abstract painting of two women entwined. “Oh, Rachel,” she said, covering her mouth with her hand. “How did you buy this without me knowing?!”
“I went back to the gallery when you went to find the car. I had it sent to me.”
“Thank you so much — I love it,” Kathryn said, leaning towards her and kissing her cheek. “Do you mind if I sit?” She motioned towards the bed.
“Not at all. I’ll go and get the coffees.”
“Thanks, I could use paintings like these in my projects,” she said, holding the canvas in the air, admiring its design.
“I’m sure Ellie’s husband would be more than happy to have one in his bedroom,” Rachel remarked as she left the room.
All that worrying about nothing. Kathryn scorned herself.
Several minutes later, the door burst open, startling Kathryn.
“The kitchen tap just burst for the second time this month,” Rachel explained as she quickly removed her soaking wet top. “It was only replaced a few weeks ago.”
“Oh no, did you manage to turn the water off?”
“Yes, I’m an expert at it now,” Rachel replied, reaching into her wardrobe and retrieving a towel, then slowly dabbing at the water from her chest.
Kathryn couldn’t help but stare at her. The sight of Rachel half naked was loosening her defences, which she normally held steadfast. Rachel reached back into the wardrobe and pulled out a T-shirt before slowly turning towards Kathryn. Does she know I’ve been staring at her? Wanting her? Kathryn tried to avert her gaze to anything but Rachel. As if sensing her thoughts, Rachel threw the T-shirt onto the bed and walked towards her. Stopping just inches from her, she reached down and took her hand in hers and brought it to her mouth.
“Rachel, I ....” Kathryn began.
“Shhh, it’s alright,” Rachel said reassuringly, as she pulled her up from the bed, took her in her arms and very gently kissed her. The touch of her lips sent her reeling. She had never realised how a simple kiss could reach so far into her soul. This feeling was what she had read about in magazines but had never experienced herself. All too soon it was replaced by spasms of guilt. I have a husband. With all the mental force she could muster, Kathryn turned her head and rested the side of her face against Rachel’s shoulder.
They stood silently, holding each other, until Kathryn said with a sigh, “I can’t do this, Rachel.” She lifted her head and took a step back.
“I can’t help the way I feel about you, Kathryn.”
Before another word could be spoken, Kathryn’s mobile began to ring. Relieved, she withdrew it from her pocket. “Sorry,” she mouthed to Rachel. “Hi, yes I’m just on my way home now — yes, I’ve just got to throw a few things together. Okay see you.” She disconnected her phone.