by Clare Lydon
In that moment, it was just Joy and Scarlet, on the dancefloor, lost in the glory of their burning kiss.
CHAPTER TWENTY
They didn’t make it home till after 1am from the wedding, and then Scarlet and Joy were up even later, making good on the promise of that dancefloor kiss. So Sunday morning wasn’t a hurried affair. In fact, it was a downright sleepy affair, right up until someone started banging on Joy’s front door.
Joy opened her eyes, whereas Scarlet sat up straight in bed, a worried look on her face.
Joy reached out a hand and stroked her back.
“Someone’s at the door,” Scarlet said, shaking her head. “The last time someone woke me up from my sleep banging on the door, I lost everything.” She paused, turning to Joy. “You don’t think we’re being flooded again, do you?”
Joy yawned, sitting up and kissing Scarlet’s flushed cheek. “I don’t. This house won’t be flooded, take my word for it.” She looked at her clock. “Plus, it’s Sunday morning, so I have an idea of who it might be.”
Joy jumped up from her bed, grabbed her dressing gown and left the room.
Scarlet flopped back down, her pulse racing. She concentrated on breathing in through her nose, out through her mouth, and crossed her fingers everything was okay. Whatever it was, it couldn’t be for her: the worst had already happened. But then she jumped out of bed: what if it was bad news for Joy?
Scarlet got up, gathering up her wedding attire which had been thrown on the floor in the throes of passion last night. She grinned as she recalled — she wasn’t going to look at Joy in quite the same light ever again. Joy was capable of things Scarlet hadn’t even imagined, especially considering this was a woman who didn’t like to swear — but Scarlet wasn’t complaining. Far from it. She walked through to Joy’s spare room where her case still was, grabbing some jeans and a T-shirt, before taking the stairs two at a time.
When she got to the kitchen, she almost laughed out loud. She needn’t have worried.
It was Steve. Of course it was Steve.
Scarlet had only lived at the house for nine days, but she already knew Steve’s routine, and this was his Sunday morning call, regular as clockwork. They might have to have words with him to alter that now Scarlet was on the scene. Still, Steve wasn’t going anywhere and Scarlet imagined he was always going to be in Joy’s life, so she’d better make an effort with him.
When Scarlet walked in, Steve looked up, smiling.
“Hi,” he said, as Joy turned around.
Scarlet saw panic in her face, followed by something else she couldn’t quite place. She held back on her natural instinct, which was to kiss Joy before sitting down. Joy had to take control of this one, she couldn’t do anything to help her. The ball was in her court.
“Hi,” Scarlet told Steve, who was sitting on her breakfast bar stool. She let it slide: this morning was about bigger things than that. This morning was about righting their life just that little bit further.
“Not running this morning?”
Steve looked down at his jeans and shirt. “Not today,” he said. “But I was in the neighbourhood, so I thought I’d call in. How’s your flat? I saw you on the news — you’re quite the hero.”
Scarlet shrugged, blushing. She’d heard that a few times over the past few days, but she still wasn’t buying it. She’d just said what was in her heart, the truth. “It’s still buggered, but I’ve had so many offers of furniture, I could probably make a fortune on eBay.” She smiled. “We’re going over there in a bit — never in my life did I think I’d get through so much bleach in one go.”
“You and half the town,” Steve replied.
Joy had been watching this exchange with interest, Scarlet noted. She still wasn’t committing to where she was sitting or what she was doing next. It was as if the situation was too surreal: her ex and her lover perched in her kitchen in a tableau of Sunday domesticity.
“So, Steve,” Joy said, eventually.
Steve turned his head to her.
“I know we talked the other night, but I just wanted you to know that Scarlet and I have worked things out and we’re together.” Joy flicked her gaze from her ex, to Scarlet, looking for reassurance.
Seeing as they hadn’t really had a chance to discuss anything yet, Scarlet nodded her support.
“We’re out in the open, just so you know.” Joy exhaled, as if that little speech had taken it out of her. She fiddled with the tea towel in her hand, then turned back to the sink.
Seeing as Joy had run off mentally at this juncture, Steve gave Scarlet a smile in response. “That’s great news,” he said. “Congratulations.”
“We’re not getting married,” Scarlet replied, smiling uncertainly.
“I know,” Steve said with a shrug. “It just feels like the right thing to say.”
If Steve held any resentment, Scarlet couldn’t detect it. In fact, he looked like he wanted to reach over and shake Scarlet’s hand, as if conceding defeat. Scarlet was glad he didn’t.
Joy turned back to them, a brittle smile on her face.
Steve shifted on his stool. “I mean it though, for both of you.” He paused, glancing from one to the other. “Whatever happens, I want you to be happy, Joy. And you look happy, you really do.” He sighed. “So I’m pleased for you — and I hope we can still be friends.”
“Of course we can,” Joy said. “In fact, when we get a bit more settled and everything has calmed down a bit, you should come over for dinner, then Scarlet can get to know you better, too.”
Scarlet coughed. Nope, they hadn’t discussed this one at all.
Joy looked up. “Right?”
Scarlet nodded. “Absolutely — and then I can tick off the box in my head that says, ‘have dinner with my girlfriend’s ex-husband’. It’s been one I’ve been meaning to tick for years.”
Steve narrowed his eyes. “You’re kidding, right?”
Scarlet laughed. “I am. But not the part about you coming for dinner.”
Steve smiled. “Good.”
“So now that’s out of the way and the awkward tension has dissipated somewhat — cup of coffee?” Joy asked, pouring out the hot, black liquid from her cafeitiére.
“Wouldn’t say no to some breakfast either, if you’re doing some,” Steve replied.
Yep, Scarlet could tell he was feeling more relaxed by the minute.
“I’m sure I can rustle something up,” Joy said, bringing their drinks over, and placing a brief kiss on Scarlet’s lips.
That gesture wasn’t lost on Scarlet, who rested a hand on Joy’s waist, pulling her close. It was a natural action, but Scarlet was also doing it to mark out her territory. She couldn’t help it.
Steve clocked it, but said nothing.
“Bacon sandwiches okay?” Joy asked, kissing the top of Scarlet’s head before heading for the fridge.
“Perfect,” Steve and Scarlet replied in unison.
Then they both raised an eyebrow at each other, before bursting out laughing.
***
After Steve left, Scarlet and Joy had a full day planned. First up, they were headed to Scarlet’s flat to do another bleach clean, then take delivery of some dehumidifiers that were being bulk supplied by the insurance company. Then this evening, they were headed to Scarlet’s brother’s house for dinner.
This was the second full bleach clean they’d done this week after clearing the flat of debris with the help of Clark, Eammon, and Steph. It hadn’t been fun or pretty, but Scarlet had been amazed at the speed of the operation. It was true what they said: many hands really did make light work.
And now, when Scarlet turned into her street, it looked like it always had: like nothing had ever happened. The last bits of rubbish had been cleaned up by the council and the fire service, and all the flats had been pumped of water. Now, it was just a case of staying on top of the cleaning and waiting for her flat to dry out.
Walking into it again, Scarlet was struck by the cold and the damp,
which wormed its way under your skin within minutes. She couldn’t imagine a time when it wouldn’t, when her flat would be dry and habitable again.
“It really is going to take months, isn’t it?” Scarlet said.
Joy rubbed her back. “It is, I’m afraid. But you can stay at mine. Even if your flat was ready to move back into, I’d still want you to stay at mine.”
“I know,” Scarlet said. “I just wish you could have seen it before. Before it was so bleak and dead. That’s what it feels like, doesn’t it? It feels like the building has died.”
Joy shook her head. “It’s been knocked out. Concussed. But the spirit is still there, and you can coax it back to life, given time. Just not right now.” Joy gave Scarlet a smile. “But you’ll get there. We’ll get there.”
Scarlet offered a weak smile. She appreciated Joy’s optimism: it balanced her out when hers was drained.
“I hope so. But what if it happens again? Will I even be able to get insurance after all of this?” Scarlet’s shoulders slumped as she gazed around at the empty shell of a flat, with its bare brick walls and stone cold floors. “Even though I know it’s my flat, it doesn’t feel like my home anymore. It’s just a load of bricks and I’m scared to put my hopes into it again.”
Joy walked over and pulled Scarlet into her arms.
Scarlet let her: it was always good to be held by Joy, it took away her fears for the moment. It was good to know that whatever else, she always had that to return to.
“You know, that’s the same argument you could have used for your entire life, and I seem to remember you did, for quite some time. Have you forgotten you’re meant to be this newly reformed optimist?” Joy said, easing herself away from Scarlet.
Scarlet laughed. “Sometimes, I slip back into my old ways.” And given everything that had happened, she reckoned she was allowed.
“Putting all your hopes and dreams into something is scary, but we do it every day, because what other choice is there? And yes, things go wrong, but you have to keep trying, otherwise you really would give up.” Joy paused. “I’ve put all my hopes into you, for instance,” she added, taking Scarlet’s hand. “Well, you and the lottery.”
Scarlet chuckled. “You’ve got to be in it to win it.”
“Still waiting on the lottery. Have I won you?” Joy asked, one eyebrow raised.
“You’ve made a very good start.”
“Pleased to hear it.” Joy pressed her lips onto Scarlet’s before continuing. “And same rules apply to this, too. Yes, the river might flood again, there’s always that possibility. But they’re fixing the flood barrier, so the likelihood is that it won’t. And if it does? Then you just clean up, dry it out, and start all over again. It’d be better if that didn’t happen, of course, but it’s not going to be the end of you, is it?”
Scarlet shook her head. Joy was right, as usual. She had a very annoying habit of being right.
“I guess not.”
Joy smiled. “Good. Now, let’s get going: the sooner we get this done and get the dehumidifiers on, the quicker we can drive over to your brother’s for dinner. What time is he expecting us?”
“Any time after six.”
“Let’s get a move on, then.”
CHAPTER TWENTY-ONE
The following Saturday, Scarlet accompanied Joy to see Clementine at Grasspoint, carrying her guitar case on her back.
“Ready to face the music?” Joy asked as they climbed the stairs to the home.
“I’m not facing the music, I’m embracing the music,” Scarlet replied.
Joy chuckled. “Whatever you say.”
Scarlet had been practising her guitar all week, even learning some old classics with Joy’s guidance as to what her grandma might like, as well as polishing up some older favourites of her own. Joy wasn’t sure if the Indigo Girls or Bruce Springsteen were going to be Grasspoint favourites, but you never knew until you tried.
Clementine was sitting with Carol and Robert when they walked in, and she got up to greet them, beaming broadly when Scarlet put the guitar case down.
“Let me round up the troops, I’ve been telling everyone you’re coming!” she said to Scarlet.
“Maybe let her have a cup of tea first,” Joy replied, as Scarlet got the guitar out of its case.
“Of course, of course,” Clementine said. “I’m just excited, you’ll have to forgive an old lady. We don’t have much to get excited about round here, do we?”
Scarlet flashed Clementine a smile. “I don’t mind. Tell you the truth, I’m excited, too.”
“See?” Clementine told Joy.
Joy threw up her arms and went in search of Celia. What did she know?
When she returned ten minutes later, Scarlet was sat on a chair with a gaggle of around 30 pensioners around her, strumming her guitar and singing Tracey Chapman’s Fast Car. Honest-to-goodness singing, out loud, eyes closed, in touch with the song. And she sounded heart-breakingly beautiful.
Joy wasn’t surprised: she’d heard it at home all week, and Scarlet had even serenaded her in bed. But her heart filled with pride watching Scarlet playing with such genuine feeling — it just went to prove how much had changed in the few weeks since the flood. She doubted Scarlet would have entertained the idea of playing and singing a month ago, yet look at her now.
Things had changed for Joy, too. In the space of a month, she’d met a woman who met all her criteria: criteria Joy wasn’t even aware she had until Scarlet showed up. All along, it turned out she’d longed to meet a woman who was brave, strong, and knew with certainty exactly who she was. And in turn, who allowed Joy to be exactly who she was. And Joy was finding out new things about who she actually was every single day, most of them good.
A round of applause broke Joy’s train of thought, and she joined in, giving Scarlet a thumbs-up from across the room.
In response, Scarlet beamed at her. “Thanks very much, you’re all very kind.” She paused, glancing up at Joy. “I’d like to dedicate this next song to a someone who’s come into my life recently and made a world of difference, made me see the sunshine. Joy, this is for you.”
Scarlet began strumming her guitar strings, her fingers beautiful, and Joy grinned: she couldn’t help it. She was used to Scarlet singing songs for her at home, but out in public? This really was something else. And then Joy recognised the song: Kiss Me, by Sixpence None The Richer. And then she blushed beetroot red.
Scarlet was singing a song about kissing her in front of her grandma.
Joy was going to kill Scarlet later.
Right after she got over the fact she’d just had a song dedicated to her in front of an audience for the first time in her life. The way it made Joy swell up inside, Scarlet might as well have been playing Wembley stadium to an audience of 60,000, rather than an old people’s home lounge to an audience of 30.
When she’d finished, Scarlet got a round of applause, and promised to be back in ten minutes. She walked over to Joy with a massive grin on her face.
“So, do I get a kiss after that?” Scarlet asked, coming to a standstill in front of Joy and putting her arms around her waist as Joy stood up.
“Do you deserve one after embarrassing me in front of my gran?”
“You loved it,” Scarlet replied, kissing Joy anyway.
Joy gave her a mock scowl, but still kissed her back. “Maybe I liked it a little,” she said with a knowing smile. “Are you enjoying it? You look like you are.”
Scarlet nodded. “I’m loving it. I feel like a rock star, I can’t imagine what it must feel like playing an actual gig,” she said. “But this will do me. I’ve got some requests, so I thought I’d take a break and look them up on my phone while they have a cup of tea.”
“Good plan,” Joy replied.
Scarlet sat down on a chair nearby and got out her phone, just as Clementine walked over to them.
“You were wonderful,” Clementine told Scarlet. “And you told me you weren’t any good. From where I’m
sitting, you’re not too bad at all.” She flicked her gaze over to Joy. “She’s a keeper, this one, you know.”
Joy smiled at her gran. “I know.”
“Not only for her guitar-playing, but also for putting a smile back on my granddaughter’s face. It’s been missing a while, but now it’s back with bells on.” Clementine reached down and cupped Joy’s cheek. “It’s beautiful to see, my darling.”
***
Back at home later that day, Joy was sat on her couch with her iPad on her lap when Scarlet walked in, carrying a present wrapped in red tissue paper and tied with white string. She walked over and put it on the sofa next to Joy, then sat down opposite her.
Joy glanced down at it, then back over to Scarlet.
“What’s this?”
“Open it and find out.”
“But it’s not my birthday.”
“No shit,” Scarlet said. “I bought you a present, just because.”
“Because what?”
“Open it and find out. Are you this difficult with all your presents?”
Joy grinned, swung her legs onto the floor and ripped open the present. And then she started laughing. “How did you know?”
Scarlet grinned. “Just a wildly random guess. That, and the fact that every time we have a drink in here, you nearly smash the coffee table. So I decided to take charge. Do you like them?”
Joy got the coasters out of their box and stood up, putting them on the table. “I love them: coasters with images of Wonder Woman and Catwoman on them. What’s not to like?” She walked over and sat next to Scarlet, before pressing her lips to hers. “You are the absolute best girlfriend,” she said, as she pulled back. “We’re calling each other girlfriend now, right?”
“Girlfriend, live-in lover, sex slave, whatever you like.”