Life Pushes You Along: A woman-loving-woman romance novella

by Emma Sterner-Radley

  “I know. I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to bring them up. Ignore me. I’m just in a weird mood lately.”

  “You’re telling me,” Jamie muttered.

  “Hey, I apologised.”

  “Yeah. Fair enough. So… want to talk about this crisis of yours? Or do you want me to tell you about my plans to ask Helen to move in with me?”

  “Move in with you? You’ve been dating for what… six months?”

  “Wow. Two years, Zoe. It’s been two years. Mate, sometimes I think you miss how time moves. That is the only reason I can see as to why you’ve stayed in that shitty job for so long and why you keep putting off dating. Do you know when you last had a girlfriend?”

  She glared at her brother. “No, and neither do you.”

  “Yeah, fair enough but Helen remembers. She said she was worried about you and that you hadn’t dated for like three or four years. That’s huge, Sis. I mean, you’re not ugly and your personality isn’t that annoying. You live in Queenswell, which last time I checked was part of Greater London, so there must be loads of lesbians around.”

  “Woman loving women,” she corrected.

  Jamie swallowed a sip of latte and stared at her. “Excuse me?”

  “It’d be better if you used ‘woman loving women’ or ‘Sapphic women.’ I don’t just date lesbians, I date bisexual or pansexual women too.”

  “Zoe. You’re not dating anyone at all. That is my point. All you do is moon over celebrities and that middle-aged woman who comes into the bookshop.”

  “Rebecca Clare isn’t middle-aged. She’s like in her late thirties or early forties.”

  “Yeah, and if she lives to be about eighty, that means she is in the middle of her lifetime, aka her age.”

  Zoe picked up the bag of sweetener again and threw it at her brother. “Oh shut up, you pillock. She’s far too hot to be middle-aged.”

  “Oi, judgemental much? Middle-aged people can be hot too. Hell, old people can be. Look at Helen Mirren.”

  “Are you trying to tell me that you want me to date Helen Mirren? Because I’m game if she is.”

  He rolled his eyes. “I’m saying that you can’t just sit here and brood about how your life ran away while you were unpacking books. You need to get your arse out there and look for new people and opportunities.”

  Zoe sighed. “Fine. I’m going to actively go to the library and look for reading opportunities. Say hi to Helen from me and good luck with the moving-in thing. Just warn her that you never do the dishes, all right?”

  With that, she got up, leaned down to kiss her brother’s short-cropped hair, and walked out before he could lecture her anymore.

  The library was surprisingly busy as a bunch of kids had escaped from the children’s section and were now playing tag in the non-fiction section.

  Zoe quickly ducked out of their way and hurried over to where the fiction was kept. It was darker than usual around the book-packed oak shelves. Zoe wondered if the council was saving on electricity. She didn’t care. What mattered was that it was quiet in this part of the library and she was surrounded by books that were all free and all hers for the picking.

  She got out a crumpled list from her jacket pocket. She always kept a list where she wrote down titles she saw in the bookshop and wanted to read, then she raided the library for them. The newer titles had usually been snapped up but sometimes she got lucky.

  As she browsed for C. Robert Cargill, she smelled a familiar scent. She realised it was perfume and at first just ignored it, assuming she had just smelled it on a customer at some point. The scent got stronger as she walked further and when she reached the end of the Cs, she had stopped looking for Cargill and was now concentrating on breathing in the alluring smell. It was a peculiar; sharp like elderberry but tinged with something warmer like vanilla. Zoe wasn’t sure, since she had stuck to fruity body sprays ever since she was a teenager. The world of complicated, and probably expensive, perfumes was all strange territory to her.

  Soon she realised that she had smelled this heavy perfume before but it had been mixed with something else. Something almost unpleasant but quite normal, something like… rain. She had smelled that perfume mixed with the scent of rain-soaked hair and clothes.

  She thought back and added up the facts. It was a female perfume, on a person who was rained on, and, if she was honest, there was only one person she could imagine herself being alert enough around to pick up on their perfume choice; Rebecca Clare.

  Zoe froze. Surely this was just a coincidence. It couldn’t be her. Zoe couldn’t have managed to run into a client she knew from a Central London bookshop out here in leafy Queenswell?

  She sniffed the air to try to determine where the woman in question could be. Her nose led her down the row of shelves and she guessed that the scent was coming from the other side of the bookcases. She backed up, looked around the corner, and was rewarded by the sight of Rebecca Clare crouching on the ground picking out a book from the lower shelf.

  There were so many ways Zoe could have handled this situation. She could have snuck away and avoided any weirdness. Or she could have walked past, faking not having seen Rebecca, to just accidentally bump into her and get to have a conversation. Or just said, “hi.” like a normal person.

  What Zoe Achidi did was stare for a long time while the shock made her bag slip slowly from her fingers. It was a largish messenger bag and filled to the brim with stuff that had seemed so essential, but now only made it incredibly heavy and noisy as it landed on the floor. The thud echoed through the quiet library, loud enough to wake the dead.

  Chapter 3

  Zoe

  For a long time, Rebecca just looked at her in puzzlement. The light from a window above glinted off her long plait of copper-coloured hair. She stood up to her impressive full height, aided by the ever-present heels, this time tall boots. She looked at Zoe with a frown.

  Zoe felt her stomach clench. Her mind felt hazy, like it was trying to escape the embarrassing situation and dive into unconsciousness. Or maybe escape her body completely.

  She took a deep breath. Nothing to worry about, she doesn’t know that you were sniffing her out and staring at her, or that you have had a crush on her for weeks. Just act casual and it will all be fine. Just say something. Anything.

  “They always hide the best books at the bottom, don’t they?” Zoe blurted out. Her voice sounded squeaky. The statement was nonsense as the books were obviously arranged alphabetically. She wanted to scream at herself.

  Rebecca laughed. “How nefarious of them. They are clearly trying to mess with my knees by making me crouch down. Sorry, I didn’t recognise you at first. You’re the girl who works at Darren’s Book Nook, aren’t you?”

  Zoe winced at hearing the object of her daydreams, and in all honesty, a few wet dreams, describing her as a ‘girl’.

  She saw that Rebecca had noticed the wince and luckily her brain supplied her with a not-so-nonsensical cover this time.

  “Sorry about the grimace. I just hate the name of that place. It feels like a bookshop should have a more dignified name, you know?” Zoe said, with a shrug.

  “Mm, I agree, actually. Still, it has a good selection of books and staff that clearly love literature, considering you are in a library on your day off.”

  Zoe looked down and scratched the back of her neck. “Yeah. I come here to borrow some of the books I see in the shop but can’t afford to buy. What about you? I’ve never seen you in Queenswell before, do you live around here too?”

  “No, actually. Although it is a nice place.” Rebecca looked around, as if the library was the town itself. “I live in a flat in Marylebone.”

  Zoe frowned in confusion. “And there’s no library around there? It’s Central London, you must have loads of libraries to choose from.”

  Rebecca smiled at her and Zoe didn’t know how to interpret the gesture. She couldn’t decide if she should feel dumb for asking that question or just bask in the pretty smile which
carved laugh lines in the perfect mask of Rebecca’s makeup.

  “My company is considering merging with a smaller recruitment company here in Queenswell and I’m having a meeting with them hideously early tomorrow. So, I thought I’d do a reconnaissance trip today and scope out where their offices were. On the way back to the station I got a little waylaid and ended up outside the library. It was an inviting building so I couldn’t help walking in,” Rebecca explained.

  “Oh, so you weren’t looking for reading material?”

  “No, not really. I’m quite busy with the book I bought from you the other day, and a few dusty old classics I have promised myself I will catch up on.”

  “Trying to force yourself through Moby Dick, huh?” Fidgeting, Zoe tucked a few stray curls behind her ear but, as always, the thick hair refused to stay put.

  “Finnegan’s Wake, actually,” Rebecca replied with a frown.

  “Whoa. Good luck with that; I gave up after about ten pages.”

  “So then you know why I keep coming to the shop and buying thrillers instead.”

  Zoe made another attempt at confining her rebellious curls. “Yep.”

  There was silence for a moment and Zoe thought desperately of something to say to break it before it had time to settle. But nothing came to her. Nothing that would sound sensible, at least. The seconds ticked on.

  Rebecca cleared her throat. “Well, I suppose I should be going. My reconnaissance trip has achieved its purpose and I can’t spend all my Sunday browsing a library when my reading list is already full. It was nice meeting you again. I’m sure I’ll see you in the shop when I need another thriller to keep me away from Finnegan’s Wake.”

  “Um, yes. Great! I’ll see you then.”

  Rebecca smiled and walked away.

  As she watched her go, Zoe’s brain supplied her with a flood of things to say. Things like “Mind if I ask what your job is like?” or “Will you be visiting this other recruitment company here in Queenswell often?” or even just a “Good luck with your meeting tomorrow.” But the automatic door closed behind Rebecca and Zoe was left there, her bag still sunk to the floor and her heart sinking even deeper than that.

  Chapter 4

  Zoe

  With a cheese sandwich in one hand and her phone in the other, Zoe flopped down on the sofa. She was calling Helen, but she wasn’t picking up.

  As the phone’s high-pitched beeps continued assaulting her ear, Zoe muttered, “Come on. Pick up. Please tell me you’re not busy kissing my brother or something even more gross. Pick up!”

  As if she had heard her, Helen finally answered.

  “Hey trouble. How are you?”

  “Miserable.”

  “Shocking,” Helen drawled.

  Zoe tried to stop her involuntary chuckle at the comeback but failed.

  “Hey, be nice. I just made a complete arse of myself in front of bloody Rebecca Clare.”

  “What? How? You’re not working today. Wait… you didn’t stalk her or anything, did you?”

  Zoe wasn’t sure just how offended she should be by that.

  “No! Um, well, no. Not really. I mean I did sniff her out and stare at her until she caught me.”

  “You what?”

  “It’s not as bad as it sounds. She was in the library when I was there and I smelled her perfume. I followed it and there she was, crouched on the floor. Her hair was in her usual plait, and she was wearing that posh coat she’s usually got on, but she was wearing jeans underneath it. Jeans, Helen.”

  Even Zoe could hear how her voice had taken on a dreamy quality when talking about Rebecca.

  “Uh, yeah, it’s a miracle. ‘Woman wears jeans in library’– I can see the headlines of tomorrow’s paper now,” Helen muttered.

  “Oh, come on. I’ve never seen her in casual clothes. She comes into the shop after work or on her lunch hour, so she’s always in her work clothes. Which are always really sexy because they’re suits and smart dresses and stuff like that. But today she was wearing jeans and boots.”

  She heard a whoosh on the line as Helen clearly blew out a long breath.

  “Right, okay. Can we get back to the part where you stared at her and ‘made an arse of yourself’ at any point?”

  Zoe sighed. “Do we have to? I just want to eat my sandwich.”

  “No, no, no. You called me to vent, so spill.”

  “Fine. When I found her, and looked at her, I kind of didn’t know what to say so I just stared at her for ages and then my bag fell. It had hairspray, books, and a water bottle in it so it made this huge bang and scared her and then she stared at me and… well, you get the picture.”

  “Okay, yes. That sounds bad. It also sounds like something from a sitcom.”

  Zoe groaned. “I know. She makes me feel like a teenager. Like a freaking schoolgirl with a crush on the teacher. It’s pathetic.”

  “Well then, maybe it’s time to act your age and just talk to the woman?”

  “I did talk to her a little bit. I mean, it was mainly drivel but I did find out why she was there and where she lives. And that she’s not a fan of reading the classics.”

  “There you go. That’s progress.”

  “Yeah, I suppose,” Zoe said before taking a small bite of her sandwich.

  “So?”

  Zoe swallowed her bite quickly. “What?”

  “So, are you going to talk to her more? Maybe ask her out?”

  “Ask her out?”

  “Yes. You’re both adults and able to communicate with each other. Unless you have a reason to think she might be a homophobe and freak out if you ask her, I don’t see any reason to not take the chance.”

  “We’ve been over this, Helen. Even if she’s single, she’s not interested in me. She’s older, educated, and probably straight.”

  “Or she might fancy the pants off you but think you are not interested in her because you are younger, less stuffy, and straight as an arrow?”

  “But I’m gay.”

  Helen groaned. “I know that, you moron! I’m saying that maybe she doesn’t?”

  Zoe took another bite of her sandwich and mumbled, “I’m scared.”

  “Don’t talk with food in your mouth, it’s disgusting.”

  “Sorry, Mummy,” Zoe said, rolling her eyes.

  “Anyway, yes. I know you’re scared. But I think you’re scared of more than just losing the chance to ogle a businesswoman that comes into your workplace occasionally. I think you’re scared of change.”

  “Whoa, don’t pull any punches, there.”

  “Look, I love you, but both me and Jamie have tried to sugar coat this message for weeks now. Jamie said that you told him you were ‘sick of being you’ and that you were unhappy when you had coffee together this morning.”

  Zoe tried hard not to let her tone sound like a petulant teenager when she replied, “Yeah. What about it?”

  “Well, then you know, don’t you? It’s time for a change. If you won’t start with your job, then start with your love life. It’s been years since you were in a serious relationship and maybe this is your chance? God knows you’re keen enough.”

  “Ugh. Stop being such a flippin’ know it all,” Zoe said, adding a groan for effect.

  “Okay, you’re clearly not listening to me and you keep chewing in my ear so I’m hanging up. Just think about it, Zoe. Can your mushy brain give that a go?”

  “I’ll ask it for you.”

  “Cheers. Eat your food and try to stay out of trouble tonight. I’ll talk to you soon,” Helen said.

  “Yeah. Talk soon.” Zoe paused. “And, um, thanks. I do really appreciate you listening to me waffling on and wanting to help, even if it might not seem like it.”

  “I know. You’re welcome. Have a good night, Zoe.”

  “Uh-huh, sure. Bye.”

  Chapter 5

  Zoe

  Zoe rolled her shoulders to keep them from tensing up. Having to deal with tricky customers, like the nine-year-old in front of
her right now, always gave her the worst muscle knots.

  The young girl looked up at her mother with rage imprinted on her little face.

  “Mummy. I don’t want more books. I want an iPad. Then I can read books on that.”

  “Yes, dear. But I doubt that’s all you’d do with it. I’d find you trying to hack into my Facebook account again. Or spending your evenings watching kitten videos on YouTube or chatting with your friends,” the girl’s mother retorted.

  This was the third rendition of this quarrel Zoe had to listen to in the twenty minutes they had been in the shop. The arguments from either side hadn’t changed, but Zoe’s polite smile was slowly changing into a frown.

  The mother turned to Zoe.

  “Help me out here. There must be some books that will change her mind and keep her occupied?”

  “Sure. We don’t have a huge children’s section but we have a few choices for her age group. Some cute, some funny, and a few really exciting ones,” Zoe replied. She turned to the girl. “Would you like to go have a look?”

  “No. I have to read in school. I don’t want to have to do it when I’m at home.”

  “What if we found you a totally cool book?”

  The girl still looked unimpressed so Zoe changed tactic.

  “And you know what? Maybe if you spend some time reading, your mum might let you chat with your friends a little afterwards? Then everyone would be happy, right?”

  Zoe hated having to say that, to hint that reading was a chore that needed to be dealt with so that you could have your reward. But she wanted these customers happy and on their way as a queue was forming by the till.

  She wished she had a magic wand that she could wave and show the girl how much reading could improve and change your life. How it would let you live so many lives; become an explorer in the 1930s one day and a captain of a space ship the next. She wanted to show the girl how reading would exercise her mind and grow her empathy as she put herself in the shoes of the characters. How she would connect differently with each character when she read their thoughts, compared to in the movies where she would mainly see their actions.