by Clare Lydon
Helena tapped her on the shoulder. “Your parents are over there. And look who’s with them.” She followed Helena’s outstretched arm to where her parents sat at a table in the café garden, glasses of fizz in their hands. Also with them were Ginger and Saffron, the latter wearing a different baseball cap and her regulation shades.
Kirsty’s heart did a few star jumps as she walked over to them, her mum standing up and taking her bag and sun hat from two chairs.
“About time! We’ve had to fend off all-comers for these seats.” Mum turned to Helena. “No Hugh?”
Helena shook her head. “He’s drinking in the Mariner’s Arms with his football mates. Says it’s too crowded down here.”
“He’s got a point.” Kirsty sat as her dad poured them both a glass of fizz. She turned to the Oliver sisters. “Have they been behaving?”
“Good as gold,” Saffron replied, flashing a slight grin.
It was just a simple movement of Saffron’s mouth, but it made every hair on Kirsty’s body stand to attention.
Yes, something had definitely changed.
“Did you watch the parade?” Kirsty asked.
Ginger nodded. “Caught it from the start. I loved it, especially the people dressed as oysters.”
“I dunno,” Saffron said. “My favourites were the crabs right at the end. Showed a bit of originality.”
Kirsty’s skin tingled. “Mine, too.” She stared at Saffron. This was getting more difficult by the day, wasn’t it?
Saffron broke their stare. She pushed back her chair and got up, rubbing her hands. “Oysters!” she said. “It’s the Oyster Festival, so I’m going to get some for the table.” She glanced at Kirsty. “Apart from you, I know you hate them.” She pulled on the peak of her cap, glancing around. Nobody was taking the slightest bit of notice of her. Was she missing the attention? Kirsty would love to know.
“Our Kirsty is the opposite of an oyster lover,” her dad confirmed.
Kirsty held up a hand. “I might try one this year, actually.” Really, Kirsty? Trying to impress a girl?
Kirsty glanced at her mum, who was giving her the type of knowing smile that told Kirsty she knew exactly what she was doing. She might as well have climbed on top of the table and done a tap dance, while singing “I knew I was right!”
“You hate oysters.” Helena gave her a pointed look.
“Tastes change.” Kirsty took a gulp of her fizz, steeling her nerves. Would she be able to follow through? She didn’t want to think about it. She glanced over at Saffron as she walked to the café. Yep, she still looked good enough to eat.
Saffron arrived back moments later with a huge steel bowl filled with ice, the shellfish sat on top. “I couldn’t work out the maths, so I just went for a dozen.” She glanced around the table. “Two each, right?” Her gaze landed on Kirsty. “If you only want to eat one, I’ll have your second one.”
“And they say chivalry is dead,” deadpanned Ginger.
The whole table grabbed an oyster in its shell, adding fresh lemon, vinegar, or both.
Kirsty gulped. Now that it was in her hand, she wasn’t feeling so brave. She shook the shell left, then right. The oyster wobbled. Nausea swept through her.
“Look at me!” Helena held up her phone.
Kirsty gave her an unsure grin.
Helena took a couple of shots of Kirsty, then a few group shots, making everyone scrunch up together, before grabbing her oyster.
“Ready?” Dad said. “After three, everyone down the hatch.” He nodded at Kirsty as he spoke. “One, two, three!”
She didn’t think about it. Just eyeballed the oyster, held her breath, and tipped back her head.
The slimy blob slid into her mouth.
She was not going to spit it out.
Kirsty wrinkled her face, chewed once, twice, and swallowed. She took a deep breath. Then another.
She’d done it!
The whole table was looking at her.
She gave them a thumbs up. She wasn’t taking a chance on speaking just yet.
“I can’t believe it! The effect you have on her, Saffron!” Mum’s tone was incredulous.
If Kirsty wasn’t trying so hard to control her breathing and not be sick, she might have kicked Mum under the table. She reached over and gulped the rest of her fizz. No adverse effects. She was amazed.
The rest of the table ate their second oyster, and Saffron her third. Then Saffron jumped up again. “Shall I get more drinks?”
“Just a Coke for me.” Ginger checked her watch. “It’s still only 5.30.”
“I’ll have a Sandy Cove Blonde.” Kirsty got up, too. “Let me give you a hand.”
As if responding to that request, Saffron held out her hand.
Without thought, Kirsty took it. A zap of desire rocketed up her arm. She paused. What the hell was she doing? She knew oysters were an aphrodisiac, but one taste and she was holding Saffron’s hand?
“I see those oysters have worked their magic!”
She must not shout at her mother.
Kirsty shivered, then dropped Saffron’s hand as quickly as she’d taken it, bundling her away from the table and the spectators.
What was happening? She was acting like she was a teenager. She was 49, for goodness sake.
“Everything okay?” Saffron’s cheeks were pink. She wouldn’t look Kirsty in the eye.
Kirsty gave her a look. “Let’s just get to the bar.”
They stood in the queue, Kirsty searching her brain for something to say, but she couldn’t think of anything. Not a single, solitary word. All she could think was, “We held hands!” Like she was 12.
Saffron turned her head to face a woman standing six feet away, her phone poised. Saffron held up a hand. “Sorry, no photos today, thanks. I’m just here enjoying the festival, the same as you.”
Kirsty stared at her. Then she leaned in. “She wasn’t taking a photo of you,” she whispered, pointing at the life-size plastic fisherman Saffron was standing next to. Standing on the other side of it was the woman’s toddler son and her partner, both giving the woman cheesy grins.
Saffron’s cheeks coloured even darker as she turned away. “Can we pretend that never happened?” she whispered to Kirsty.
Kirsty shook her head. “Oh no, I’m logging that.” She paused. “Remember when you said I could tell you if you were being a tit?” She quirked an eyebrow. “Stop being a tit.”
Chapter 14
A man and woman arrived at the tables outside the Poseidon Inn with an older scruffy dog, the two pups under the table across from them wiggling their behinds in the adorable way puppies do when unable to contain their excitement, but desperately trying to behave. The eldest greeted each excited pup with nose held high, but Saffron spied the scruffy dog’s tail whip back and forth with youthful vigour.
All the owners exchanged laughs and smiles, as the man gently guided his senior dog to a table across the way, the puppies hiding out under theirs, rolling on the pebbles, not a care in the world.
“I wonder what it’s like to greet each new day and experience with puppy energy.” Kirsty opened a bag of salt and vinegar crisps, undoing the seam of the bag to spread it out completely open for Saffron to share.
“I think it’s one of the reasons why I want a dog.” Saffron crunched into a crisp.
“To live vicariously through one?”
“That and to have all eyes on the adorable pup and not on me.”
“That’s a tall order for a dog.” Kirsty stared past Saffron at the water behind but ever so slowly dropped her gaze to meet Saffron’s.
Saffron wanted to take a gulp of air, but didn’t want to be obvious, even if Kirsty’s penetrating eyes plucked her heart strings.
As if noticing Saffron needed a lifeline, Kirsty stuck to the dog conversation. “Do you think it would be possible for one to help you maintain your privacy?”
“It might be here.” Saffron tapped the top of her baseball hat placed on the table, not he
r head. “For the most part, everyone has been leaving me alone. Even today, with the extra bodies for the festival, I’m just one of the crowd. Not the one causing people to huddle together to catch a glimpse.”
“Is that good or bad? In my life, that would be a tick in the good column. No, make that great. I’m adding great to my imaginary chart.” Kirsty made a swoosh in the air. “I hate being the centre of attention. I’m wondering, though, if a movie star would want the same.”
“My agent would be freaking out if she knew. She always wants snaps of me on social media.” Saffron mimed taking photos. “Me smiling, with my arms around people I don’t know, acting like I’m having the time of my life. For her, I have to stay in the front of the public’s mind, or what if they forget my existence and don’t flock to my next movie on opening weekend? The horror!” Saffron placed her hands on her cheeks and acted out the painting The Scream.
“Ginger mentioned you get tense whenever you talk to your agent.”
“I think she has that effect on most.” Saffron glanced back towards the puppies, one biting the other’s ear.
“Nice evasion on that, and since I’m feeling generous, I’ll leave it there. Also, I have to admit, I’m curious about my original question, not from Pearl’s perspective but from yours. Do you”—Kirsty aimed a crisp at Saffron’s chest—“want adulation wherever you go?”
“I see you’ve changed a keyword from the original.” Saffron mirrored the crisp move, wondering why Kirsty was focused on the question. Did she want to be around a movie star to reap the rewards? Not that Kirsty seemed the type. Was there another reason?
“I see you’re still evading.”
Saffron gazed at the puppies, marvelling over their excitement greeting an English bulldog who sported a Hawaiian shirt and bandana around his neck. “In the beginning, it was exhilarating. Growing up, I never particularly thought I was all that special, but when people started treating me like I was different—”
“Is that your word for beautiful?” Kirsty grinned, not so innocently.
“You like words, don’t you?” It was an adorable trait and quite foreign for someone who mostly had words put in her mouth by writers.
“I find them useful when communicating.” The grin widened.
“I’ve always leaned into observing to pick up on things.”
Kirsty inhaled deeply. “You really should teach a class for how not to answer simple questions.”
“Fine!” Saffron playfully groaned. “Yeah, of course it was flattering to feel beautiful. At first…”
“Then…?” Kirsty waved for Saffron to fill in the gap.
“The thrill of celebrity wears off quickly, or at least, it did with me. I couldn’t and still can’t fathom why people are so curious to know what groceries I buy at Waitrose.”
“If you want to shop at Waitrose while here, you’ll have to drive to Winterbury.”
“I’m certain I can survive without one.” Saffron swilled her drink, feeling the back of her shirt becoming damp from the sweltering night air.
“Are you? I wouldn’t want to have your death on my conscience.” Kirsty added in a melodramatic voice, “Hollywood star dies of starvation, refusing to step foot into her local Iceland for food.”
Saffron tossed a crisp at Kirsty. “So funny. Not.”
Kirsty swiped the crisp from the front of her shirt and popped it into her mouth. “Thanks.” After swallowing, Kirsty asked, “How are you finding it here? Aside from the subpar food shop choices?”
Saffron smiled and then pointed at her lips. “Firstly, that. There’s this sense of peace here. Every morning, I wake to the sound of waves. Not honking cars, or the beeping of a delivery van backing up, or construction. There’s always something going on in London.”
“Is there a secondly? You did mention earlier you’re terrible at maths.”
Saffron loved the playfulness in Kirsty’s eyes. “I need to be careful around you.”
“Why’s that?” Her breath had a hitch to it.
“You zoom in on my faults.”
“That’s not true! It’s nice to know you aren’t perfect. Besides, being bad at maths isn’t a fault. It’s a part of you. And, if you want to know the truth, when you brought the oysters earlier, admitting you weren’t great with numbers, you had this adorable blush on your cheeks. It’s nice seeing you relaxed. Much different from our first interaction.”
“When I acted like a spoiled brat.”
“You said it, not me.” Kirsty wore an innocent expression, but the way she shifted in her chair suggested she was in full agreement.
“I’m terribly sorry about my first impression.”
“It’s safe to say, both of us weren’t at our best. I’m still embarrassed by the things I said.”
Saffron started to rethink the reason for Kirsty shifting in her seat moments earlier. Was she…? No, don’t go down that path. “It’ll take time not to think everyone wants something from me.” Saffron filled one cheek with air, and released it gradually, hoping the action took away the guilt.
“That’s got to be hard to live with. Always wondering if someone has a secret mission of some sort.”
Saffron leaned on her forearms. “Do you have one? Come on; you can trust me.” She offered her best confide in me smile.
Kirsty mirrored Saffron by also leaning on her forearms, giving Saffron more than a glimpse. “Why do I have to be the one with the ulterior motive? Are you projecting?”
“Wouldn’t you like to know?” Saffron chewed on her bottom lip.
“I positively would.” Kirsty nodded enthusiastically.
“That’s good, right? Remember, I’m bad at maths. Being in the positive is the right direction.”
“Depends on the direction you’re aiming for.”
Saffron stared into Kirsty’s eyes. “Would you like to take this back to mine? Sit on the deck? Listen to the waves? Contemplate if positive or negative is the correct course?” Or why my heart skips every third beat when around you?
“Sounds deep. I’m in.”
“Would you like a glass of wine?” Saffron stood in her kitchen, unable to make eye contact with Kirsty. “Or water? I have sparkling? Bubbles. I like bubbles on my throat. Let’s have bubbles.”
“I’m making a mental note of that, and I’ll include some bubbly in your next delivery.” Kirsty’s nervous laugh piled onto Saffron’s inability to shut off her meltdown valve in the part of her brain that controlled her speech.
So what if there was a woman in her home looking at Saffron like she wanted to get to know her in a biblical way? Were there lesbians in the bible? If so, probably not the right example for the moment. She couldn’t imagine happy dyke stories from that time period.
This was real life and Saffron didn’t know how to act around normal people. It was possible, this was the absolute worst time to learn this fact about herself. Normal terrified her more than anything she’d faced up until then.
Saffron wheeled about to the fridge, the swirling sensation behind her eyes not stopping with her body.
Kirsty stepped closer. “Let me help.”
“I’ve got it.” Saffron placed a hand on the metal door to steady herself.
“Don’t take this the wrong way, but you don’t, and that’s okay. We can do it together.”
Needing more support, Saffron threaded her fingers through the handle of the fridge. “It’s just sparkling water.”
“It is.” Kirsty inched closer. “Nothing to be nervous about.”
“People drink it every day.”
“They do.” Kirsty placed her hand over Saffron’s, unfurling her fingers.
“What if you don’t want it, though? After you find out it’s simply water with bubbles. That’s the secret to fancy water. Frivolous bubbles. No substance.” Shut up, shut up, shut up!
Kirsty’s laugh was sweet, sexy, and everything in between. “You’re putting a lot of pressure on this beverage you won’t let out of the fridge.”
“It’s what I do. Fret about the big picture.” Like how I’ll wreck everything in a Saffron-Fucking-Oliver way.
“I’m seeing that.” Kirsty’s fingers intertwined with Saffron’s. “What if I told you I’m not the type to judge anything by its sparkle factor?”
“I have zero reference point for that.” Saffron closed her eyes, sinking into the feeling of having Kirsty standing so close.
“Does that mean you don’t believe me?”
“I want to.” Oh God, did I want to.
“How can I convince you to give me a chance?”
Saffron turned around, her back pressed against the fridge. “I want to,” she repeated, unable to find other words.
Their faces were so close together, but the tiniest of space between their lips seemed impossible to breach. Because if Saffron did, it’d only ignite her self-destruct button and Kirsty didn’t deserve that.
Yet, a force pulled them closer and closer until their lips met. Softly at first. With all the tenderness, but the nerves bubbled under the surface.
Stop thinking of bubbles!
Kirsty, or was it Saffron, deepened the kiss, Saffron threading her hand into Kirsty’s hair, as if needing to hold onto her to know this was real. They were kissing. Not acting, but actually experiencing.
And, it was hot.
Scorching even.
Saffron didn’t want it to end, but where would it lead?
Get out of your head, idiot!
Kirsty’s tongue dove in deeper, causing Saffron’s knees to buckle, but Kirsty held on tightly, pulling Saffron further into the moment. Kirsty’s nipples pressed against Saffron, eliciting a surge of warmth down below.
They reached the frantic stage, making it difficult to tell whose limbs became entangled with whose. Saffron’s fingers trailed down the side of Kirsty’s neck, along the collarbone, and cupped a breast, neither daring to rip their mouths apart.