by Clare Lydon
“I’m not sure Scarlet Williams agrees,” Scarlet mumbled. She didn’t like this side of Joy. The one that was poking her into action. She preferred the side that poured her whisky and let her wallow.
“And since when are you a life coach?” Scarlet furrowed her brow, trying to wrap her brain around this information. “What is a life coach, anyway? I thought it was one of those made-up terms that was strictly kept down south. You’re a life coach and you live within half an hour of Manchester. Do they even allow life coaches this far north?”
Joy laughed, a loud, throaty laugh. “People need life coaches wherever they live. And I deliver it to business leaders and CEOs, as well as individuals. So you could say landing up with me is a double win. I’m determined to chip away at you and make the real Scarlet Williams stand up.”
Scarlet folded her arms across her chest. Discontent bubbled up inside her. She wasn’t sure she was wholly down with what Joy was saying. “And what if this is the real Scarlet Williams? What then?”
She’d managed the last few years burrowing herself into a liveable rut; she wasn’t sure she wanted to come out. It was often too bright outside, and everyone was far too cheery for Scarlet’s liking, even in the face of adversity. She thought about all the people at the community hall with their ‘Keep Calm And Carry On’ attitude. That community hall should have been a tin of condensed misery, but instead, it was a breeding ground for optimism.
Joy shook her head. “It’s not, trust me. And deep down, you know that. You need to start living.” She paused, before clicking her fingers together. “Take this weekend. It hasn’t been a normal weekend for anyone. What would your normal weekend have looked like?”
Scarlet pointed a finger at her chest. “My weekend?”
Joy nodded.
“I’d have got up, had breakfast, gone to football, had a couple of pints with Matt and Eamonn, then come home and watched TV with a takeaway.” Scarlet mumbled the last bit, embarrassed by how mundane her life sounded.
“And Sunday?” Joy’s tone held compassion — she wasn’t attacking Scarlet.
Scarlet drew on her pint, feeling the alcohol coat her system and pump up her confidence. “Do you put your clients on a couch?” Scarlet never liked being the centre of attention, and Joy was hitting far too many bull’s eyes. Scarlet would try to steer her down another path, get her to talk about herself.
Come to think of it, Joy hadn’t done much of the talking since Scarlet had been a guest at her house, but Scarlet had assumed that was because she was being kind and listening to her. She hadn’t realised she was being assessed the whole time. It made her feel a little exposed.
“No, I don’t,” Joy replied. “But that’s off the topic. What do you do on Sunday?”
Scarlet squirmed in her chair. “Why is it so important?”
Joy smiled at her. “You don’t have to answer if you don’t want to.” She paused. “But I think you might feel better if you did.”
Scarlet chewed the inside of her cheek. “Nothing, really,” she said, eventually, the words sliding out of her mouth in slow motion. “I might go for a walk. I might watch football. I might read the paper. Normal Sunday things.”
Joy nodded. “But you don’t see anyone.”
Scarlet trailed her finger up and down her pint glass. “I say hello to the man in the newsagents.”
Joy raised an eyebrow. “Do you?”
Scarlet was rumbled and she shook her head. Joy was much better than the shrink she’d seen once after her mum’s death.
“What I’m getting at is there’s no human interaction.”
“Human interaction is over-rated.”
Joy’s face lit up with laughter. It was a good look, Scarlet had to admit. The alcohol had infused Joy’s cheeks with rouge and she looked happy and alive.
“I totally agree, but we all need it from time to time.” Joy paused. “And how about this weekend? You’ve been out and about, chatting to people, staying with me. I know the circumstances aren’t ideal, but if you take the flood out of the equation, how’s this weekend been? How has it made you feel?”
Scarlet scanned through the days in her mind, from the time she left her flat in the early hours of Saturday morning. Sitting drinking whisky with Joy, joining in the clean-up at the stadium, chatting with people at the community hall, sharing breakfast with somebody else. And now here she was, out at the pub with another woman.
Scarlet was living, and that hadn’t happened on a weekend in years, no matter what weekend it was.
“It’s been… nice.” Scarlet’s voice was at a whisper. Joy wasn’t going to let up, was she? Joy waited for her to continue, as Scarlet knew she would. “It’s been social,” she said, this time staring at Joy defiantly. Joy had her number, so what was the point in lying? “So, yes, apart from the ‘I’m homeless and nearly 40 bit’, I’ve even enjoyed it a little.” Which sounded like a terrible thing to say.
“It’s been your best weekend in ages?” Joy asked.
Scarlet gave a wry laugh. “You make me sound like a right sad case. My best weekend in years was the one where I got flooded?”
Joy smiled. “It’s not that uncommon — adversity brings people together, makes you re-evaluate. Things you thought you couldn’t live without, suddenly you can because you have to. They’re simply not there anymore. That’s why the 40s in Britain were seen as one of our happiest decades.” She paused. “If you take out all the war, along with the death and bombs.”
They both laughed at that.
Scarlet was silent for a moment, contemplating what Joy had said. She was right, Scarlet had enjoyed this weekend. Most of the time, she savoured Saturdays, but hated Sundays. But this weekend had been her most exciting in years, filled with drama, pep, and excitement. If it was turned into a film, it’d be a box office smash.
Scarlet flicked her gaze up at Joy and studied her face. “What about you?”
Joy was startled. “Me?” She furrowed her brow. It didn’t wrinkle much, which Scarlet had noticed in their time together. How old was Joy again? Scarlet was fairly sure she was younger than her, but she had flawless skin. Scarlet used to work with a woman just like that and she’d been impressed daily.
“What do you normally do at the weekend, and how has this weekend been for you?”
Joy smoothed down her trousers, avoiding the question, then took a sip of her pint.
Did Joy normally drink beer? Somehow, it didn’t sit right with her. But Scarlet decided not to ask that question right now. She was more interested in the answer that Joy was studiously trying to avoid. She could give it out, but could she take it?
“Well, I usually have mayoral engagements on a weekend. Other than that, I might read the paper, go to the gym, see Steve…” Joy tailed off, not looking at Scarlet.
“So essentially, take the ‘being the mayor’ bit out of the equation, and we have quite similar weekends.” Scarlet sat back, her arms folded.
Joy sat up straighter, shaking her head. “No, I see people. Steve pops round most Sundays, and I go to friends’ houses for dinner parties and drinks.”
“When was the last time you did that?” Scarlet wasn’t giving her time to wriggle out of this one. If Joy was going to ambush her about her life, then she could give as good as she got, life coach or not. The fact Joy looked adorably cute when she was flummoxed was an added bonus.
Joy cast her gaze up to the ceiling, then shrugged, looking down and studying her fingernails. “I don’t know, not for a while. Three months ago?” She blushed as she said it.
Scarlet drummed her fingers on the table. “So once every quarter, you go out with friends on the weekend. The rest of the time, you hide behind being the mayor, and occasionally see your ex-husband who’s still in love with you.”
“He is not still in love with me!” Joy said, slamming her fist down on the table. She had the good grace to look embarrassed by that. “Ouch,” she said, shaking her hand. “Sorry, that was accidental.” She lo
wered her voice, leaning into Scarlet. “Steve is not still in love with me. He’s had a new girlfriend, Sharon, for months now.” But even Scarlet could see she didn’t believe her words 100 per cent.
“Uh-huh,” Scarlet replied. “I don’t want to argue about it, because it’s a fact. Steve is still in love with you. And he was hurt when he turned up on the doorstep and you had another woman in your kitchen — the look on his face was a picture. I take it that’s never happened before?”
Joy shook her head slowly. “No.”
Scarlet raised an eyebrow. “Never once? Since you two split up — how long ago?”
“Two years,” Joy replied.
“And he’s never seen you with another woman?”
Joy shook her head. “I don’t really parade them around the town when I get together with someone.” She paused. “Besides, I figured I’d give this year over to being mayor, and that comes with responsibilities. I don’t want to drag someone else into that, so I haven’t really been on the market.”
Scarlet coughed. “You’ve not been dating because you’re mayor?” Her tone was incredulous. “And you’ve been having a go at my life.” She raised her second eyebrow in as many minutes. “You realise how stupid that sounds? I think Dulshaw could cope with you having a girlfriend. The town would not grind to a halt or go into shock. It’s the 21st century, not medieval times.”
Joy put her head down and didn’t move.
Scarlet was blindsided. Was it Joy’s turn to cry now? She hadn’t expected tears, she just wanted Joy to see that nobody’s life was perfect, and that she should be living the life she wanted, too.
“You okay?” Scarlet said, leaning over and putting a hand on Joy’s arm.
Joy jumped like she’d just been shot. She rubbed her palms up and down her face, before nodding. “Yes, I’m okay. At least, I will be when I get over the shock of having my life dissected for me.” She laughed, but it was hollow. “You don’t pull any punches, do you?” Joy flicked her gaze up at Scarlet, then back down again. “Maybe you should consider being a life coach.”
Scarlet shook her head. “Nah, too much talking and touchy-feely involved for me.” She paused. “But I’m sorry if I hurt your feelings; I didn’t mean to. But maybe it’s time to start being the real you, too. Get a girlfriend, get on with your life, and don’t worry about what anybody thinks, including Steve.”
Was Scarlet really lecturing Joy on relationships? Apparently, she was.
Joy nodded her head slowly. “I know all of that, and believe me, it’s not something I haven’t told myself. But it’s easier said than done, seeing as I don’t exactly have a string of women banging down my front door.”
“You and me both,” Scarlet said, her gaze lingering on Joy’s face. “Not that I’ve got a door for them to knock down anymore.”
“There is that,” Joy said, wincing in sympathy. “For me, it just felt easier this year to be the mayor, get my life back on track, and then think about getting back in touch with friends and perhaps a relationship after that.”
“And what does your grandma think of that plan?”
“Oh, I think you could tell when you met her, she’s on your side. She says I should get myself out there and get back in the game. This was a woman who was married three times in her life as she always tells me, so she’s got experience of starting over. She liked Steve, there wasn’t much to dislike, but as she told me, she probably liked him more than I did. Sadly, she might have been right.” Joy sighed.
“Grandmas are normally right, even if they have a very direct way of saying so,” Scarlet replied with a smile. “Have we really both just agreed that getting flooded has been the most exciting thing that’s happened in our lives in the past two years?” She began laughing gently. It was the craziest thing to say, but she was pretty sure it was a correct assumption for the pair of them.
Joy gave her a grin. “Sadly, I think we have,” she said, letting out a sneeze in the process. She wrinkled her nose to recover, before continuing. “Can this be our little secret?”
Scarlet nodded. “Absolutely — need-to-know basis. By which I mean, nobody ever needs to know.”
“Perfect.”
***
Scarlet placed two more pints of Peroni on the table in front of them, along with two packets of crisps. “Pre-dinner snack,” she told Joy, handing her a menu. “You know what you want?”
Joy shook her head. “Not really.” She put the menu down without looking at it.
Scarlet opened one of the bags of crisps, tutting as she did so. “Why can’t you just get salt and vinegar anymore? Why does it always have to be sea salt and cider vinegar? Poncey crisp companies.”
Joy smiled at her weakly. “I need to stop Steve coming round all the time and being my saviour, don’t I?”
Scarlet held up a hand. “Whoa, where did that come from?”
Joy laughed. “I’ve just had five minutes of thinking while you were at the bar buying beer and poncey crisps.”
Scarlet grinned at her, taking a handful of crisps. “You just need to set up new boundaries with him, that’s all. Does he have a key to your house?”
Joy nodded. He’d been the obvious candidate for her spare key when they’d split up. Their break-up hadn’t been acrimonious, just sad.
“Is that the house you both used to live in?”
Joy shook her head. “No — he’s still in that one, he bought me out. Moving out seemed like the right thing to do, seeing as it was me who was breaking up with him.” Plus, Joy hadn’t wanted to hold on to the memories they’d made in that house. She’d wanted a clean break, a fresh start, and starting over again in a new house was all part of that.
“I’ll add ‘noble’ to your list of attributes.” Scarlet said. “And do you have a key to his house?”
“I do,” Joy replied. “He’s never used my key, it’s just in case I get locked out. You saw yesterday — he knocks when he comes round, doesn’t just march in. We’re each other’s emergency key place.” She paused. “He doesn’t overstep boundaries, he’s respectful.” She might not be married to him anymore, but she didn’t want to badmouth Steve when it wasn’t necessary.
Scarlet crossed her legs and snagged more crisps. “Okay. Then maybe you need to get a girlfriend and have her there when he next turns up. He’d soon get the message that his Sunday morning call is one routine he needs to change. If you look at it in another way, it’s a little bit controlling — he likes your life the way it is because it fits with his.” Scarlet paused. “Or else, you could say he’s trying to hold on to you and the past, and this is the last crumb of you he has. But you both have to move on.”
Joy recoiled. She was sure she was meant to be the wise one here, but Scarlet had turned the tables. “Tell me again when you turned into a sage advice-giver?”
Scarlet rolled her eyes. “Clearly living with you for two days has rubbed off,” she said. “But honestly, you can change your relationship with Steve step by step, that’s not hard. The putting yourself out there is the more difficult part. I should know, I’ve been avoiding it for the past few years, too. What’s the point when all relationships end in heartbreak or death?”
“Now you’ve gone from being wise to the bringer of doom.”
“It’s a talent I have.”
Joy smiled at Scarlet, admiring again her eyes, the colour of rich cocoa. She could interrupt her routine for those eyes, of that she had no doubt. “Putting myself out there — properly putting myself out there, not just dipping my toe in the water? That’s a scary thought. Don’t forget, I’m new to this.”
There was nothing Joy would like more than to find a girlfriend, someone to call at night, wake up with in the morning, share things with. But she was so new to this, it scared her. Sure, she’d slept with a couple of women, and that had been a real eye-opener, but neither of them had been girlfriend material. Joy wanted to meet someone she connected with. Someone local. Someone like… Scarlet? When that thought clatter
ed into the front of her brain, Joy jolted with the weight of its meaning. She blinked a few times to try to erase it, then focused again on… Scarlet.
Nope, there was the thought again, throwing stones at her window like a lovesick teenager.
“It’s a doddle,” Scarlet replied. “Look at me, I’m a walking example of how easy girlfriends are to get. I can’t stop the women turning up. Especially at weekends, as we’ve surmised.” Scarlet let out a long, low laugh, before leaning forward, hooking her gaze around Joy.
Joy was transfixed.
“To clarify: when you say new, you’ve slept with a woman, right?”
Joy nodded, embarrassment burning through her body. “Of course!” she replied, like that question was preposterous.
“Okay, good, I was just checking you weren’t an absolute beginner.” Scarlet cocked her head. “And I take it that went alright, otherwise you wouldn’t be coming back for more.”
Joy took a slug of her beer. She wasn’t normally a beer drinker, but she’d said yes to a pint when Scarlet ordered her own, not wanting her to think her any less of a woman. Which, now she thought about it, was frankly ridiculous. Joy should have just ordered a rum and coke like she normally would. But right now, when she needed something to deflect attention from herself, having a pint of beer to hide behind was perfect.
“This is getting a little more personal than I imagined,” Joy said, her cheeks reddening that bit further.
She recalled the woman who’d taken her second virginity — her name had been Heather, and she’d had a cute dimple and split ends. They’d met online, had a couple of drinks, and shared some tacos in a tex-mex place in Manchester. Heather had chewed the tacos with her mouth wide open, and right from the start, Joy had known it was going nowhere long-term, but she had been determined to get what she needed from the encounter. And she had.
“Let’s just say, it was a promising start, but I want to meet someone I connect with. I mean, I kinda had that with Steve, but not really.” She paused, rolling images of her life with Steve around her mind. It had so nearly been there and she’d kidded herself for years it was what she wanted.