Two Alone in Dublin: A Lesbian Love Story

by Lucy Carey

  “Do you have trouble speaking English or something?”

  Mariana spun around to defend herself to the red-haired girl, the injustice of the second insult stinging like a slap across her face. She realised, however, when she faced her that the girl was not speaking to her; she was staring coolly at the other customer.

  “I beg your pardon?” the woman countered, her confusion battling with anger for supremacy on her face.

  “Would you like me to speak—a—bit—slower? Since you’re having such difficulty understanding.”

  The older customer bristled and she pursed her lips.

  “I really think this has nothing to do with you.”

  “And I really think it does. So far you’ve been rude to someone who’s probably being paid far too little to put up with crap like yours all day; you’re holding me up; and you seem not to want to listen to what people are telling you. Now, the very patient assistant behind the counter has told you twice that what you are asking for is an Americano. Since she probably has some idea what she is talking about, seeing as—you know—she works in a coffee shop and all, I think maybe you should let her do her job and stop being such a rude bitch.”

  The customer’s mouth flopped open once or twice, an answer failing to materialise on her lips and the outrage blazed across her face. She swung her handbag from the crook of her elbow to her shoulder, tugged her jacket closed and rounded on Mariana.

  “You know what? Keep it. I haven’t time for this.”

  She turned on her heel and barrelled for the door, the red-haired girl standing back with a wave of her hand and a curtsey to indicate her way was clear. The glass in the door rattled as she banged it behind her.

  The red-haired girl smiled at Mariana meekly.

  “Hiya. I think I left my phone here yesterday.”

  * * *

  Susie sat sipping an English breakfast tea, picking at a scone that the woman behind the counter had presented her with—on the house—for her valour. Her phone now restored to her pocket, she let herself relax and allowed the mellow atmosphere of the coffee shop to wash over her.

  The beautiful café assistant sat with her now, chatting animatedly—with her hands as well as her lovely mouth. Her boss, a warm, easy-going, greying-haired man called David, had insisted his employee take a break after coming to investigate what all the hubbub was about.

  Her name was Mariana, Susie had learned, and she was from Brazil. She had received a rundown of Mariana’s life history in the first few minutes of their conversation. Though Mariana spoke at speed, Susie didn’t mind. She enjoyed watching Mariana speak, her face coming alive with every emotion the conversation evoked. Her eyes widened when she was joking, her smile unleashing a sudden brightness on her face. When she had mentioned home, Susie saw unmistakeable sadness in those big, brown eyes. Now, as she was talking about the previous customer, her thick lips puckered to a stubborn scowl.

  “Customers like that vaca, that horrible woman, they make my job much harder.” The scowl softened. “But mostly,” she continued, “they are like my friends, my customers.”

  The flicker of sadness danced momentarily in her eyes again, but Susie pretended not to notice, out of politeness. She kept to the subject at hand.

  “So people with manners like the yummy mummy aren’t the usual?”

  Mariana shook her head. “Oh no, no. We have nice customers here. It is not like some of those other places, the ones with twenty of the same place all over the city. We like to know our customers and they like to know us.”

  Mariana crossed her hands into her lap.

  “I am telling you all about me. You must tell me, what do you do? Where do you work?”

  Susie took a deep breath, searching for a way to make her routine more interesting. She came up dry.

  “Well, there’s not much to tell,” she admitted. “I go to college during the week and then, at the weekends, I work in a pub. That’s why I’m used to ignorant customers. They get ruder the more drink is involved.”

  Mariana nodded. “Oh yes, I think that would be hard work. Listening to all those drunken people talking pure shite.”

  Susie grinned at the Irishism spoken in Mariana’s Brazilian accent.

  “And you are in college? What are you studying?”

  “English and history.” She laughed. “Two subjects guaranteed to get me a job afterwards.”

  Mariana’s eyes lit up and she leaned further in, touching Susie on the knee. The sensation of Mariana’s hand rippled through Susie’s body, even through the thick material of her jeans.

  “You’re learning English? To be a teacher? I would like to improve my skills. Could you teach me?”

  Susie cursed herself a moment for the misconception. It happened almost every time she told people about her field of study. She began to say that she studied English literature, not the English language, but stopped herself. Mariana was so close she could smell her, the delicate, citrus scent of her perfume mingling with the smell of cinnamon and coffee. It was only a little white lie, Susie reasoned. She could totally help her with her English.

  “When would you like to start?”

  * * *

  What am I doing? Mariana thought. I can’t afford English lessons.

  Still, she found herself eagerly arranging a day to meet. Next week, outside of Susie’s college, they would go and have a lesson.

  It’s just to improve my English, she told herself again and again. The quickened pumping of her heart and a tingle further south said otherwise.

  Chapter Five

  Paul had finally forgiven Susie by the time the following week had rolled around, though he had good reason to. Despite his awkwardness and what Susie liked to call “an impressive lack of social skills”, her meddling had worked well—Liz was meeting him for a drink in fifteen minutes.

  “I don’t know how I managed it, Suze,” he confessed. “I think she’s probably too good for me.”

  Susie rubbed his arm reassuringly. “There’s no ‘think’ about it, pet. The girl’s obviously lost the run of herself.”

  Paul flipped her the bird and carried on talking.

  “Seriously though, Susie. What is she doing with me? It’s not like she couldn’t do better for herself.”

  They sat down on a step outside the college and Susie turned to him.

  “What are you talking about? She obviously likes you if she’s going out with you.”

  Paul looked doubtful and Susie’s heart warmed for him a little. To any of his other friends, he was loud, raucous and never lacking in self-confidence. None of them would ever guess how racked with self-doubt he really was or how much he second-guessed his worth in life.

  Susie knew she held a special place in his life as his only platonic female friend. Her being gay took away that intimidating quality straight girls held for him but her being a woman meant he trusted her enough to confess his feelings. She was the only one who knew how much he liked Liz—probably more than Paul himself knew.

  She patted his knee.

  “Listen to me. You’re kind, you’re funny and you’re genuinely decent. There’s no reason why she wouldn’t like you. She’s lucky to be dating someone like you.”

  He leaned his head on her shoulder.

  “I love you, Susie G. You’re a good friend.”

  “And you’re going to be late for your date. Come on and I’ll wait by the gates with you till you see her.”

  They stood at the bustling entrance to Trinity College for what Paul insisted seemed like forever. He had smoothed down his shirt—a change from the hoodies he lived in—at least five times now. He had patted down an invisible stray hair at least as many times and smelled inside his shirt a couple of times. No matter how Susie tried to calm him, he kept hopping from foot to foot—surprisingly lightly, given his hulking size, Susie thought—as if contemplating whether to make a break for it.

  “Will you relax?” Susie asked him. “You’re making me nervous.”

&n
bsp; He stopped hopping.

  “Sorry.”

  He started hopping again. Susie stared pointedly at him until he glanced down. He stood still again.

  “Sorry,” he said again. “Don’t know when I’m doing it.”

  “You’ll be fine,” she said. “Stop worrying. You look well, you smell grand, and Liz likes you. That’s everything you need to think about sorted.”

  He smiled appreciatively. He took a few soothing breaths and visibly calmed.

  “So, just to get off the subject of my love-life for a moment, when are you meeting this Latina lovely?”

  “Now in a few minutes, I think. I said I’d meet her outside the gates.”

  Paul smirked at her.

  “And then you’re bringing her back to your house? You lezzers move fast. You’ll be moved in with her, next thing you know, and picking out matching flannel shirts.”

  She punched him lightly on the arm.

  “Let’s just concentrate on your love-life for the moment, shall we? Besides, I’m giving her a lesson. That’s all. So keep your perverted mind to yourself, thanks.”

  Paul brought the tip of his tongue out to lick his top lip from left to right.

  “A lesson in love, eh?”

  Susie scoffed.

  “Perhaps you should worry about your date with Liz. With lines like that, you’re done for.”

  He laughed but a second later the hopping started again.

  “I’m joking with you, you big eejit. You’ll be great. Stop hopping. I think I see Liz.”

  Paul tugged down the front of his shirt and patted down his hair again.

  “How do I look?”

  “You look handsome.” She reached over and pulled the collar of his shirt straight, then rubbed his cheek with the palm of her hand. She gave him a small hug and a kiss, whispering, “Don’t over-think it,” as she did so.

  He smiled gratefully at her and turned to walk over to where Liz was standing. Susie smiled after him feeling, oddly, like a proud mother sending her giant, socially awkward baby into the big, bad world.

  * * *

  It felt like Mariana’s heart had come loose from her chest and dropped way down into her stomach. She turned her back on the gate and concentrated on the buildings across the road, desperately trying to hide the disappointment from her face before Susie came to meet her.

  At least she knew now, she reasoned. So Susie liked boys. She would get used to that. Now that she knew, she could move on, she told herself, on to someone more available.

  Through the black bars of the college fence, she had seen how Susie hugged that man so tenderly and how fondly Susie had smiled at him as he walked away.

  She stuffed down the feeling of longing that threatened to overwhelm her as Susie walked towards her.

  We can just be friends, she thought, though even thinking it made her heart drag further down.

  * * *

  “So have you read the articles I asked you to last week?”

  Mariana nodded at her but said nothing more. Susie watched her out of the corner of her eye as they walked to catch the bus to Susie’s house. She realised she hadn’t known Mariana long but the Mariana standing next to her today seemed very different from the one she had sat with in the coffee shop last week. Gone was the easy chattiness of her new student and the open, cheerful nature she’d seen before. The Mariana who walked with her now seemed quieter and more reserved, with her short but polite answers and small, closed smiles.

  Susie persevered.

  “So is there anything in particular you want to concentrate on? Would you like to focus more on written English or spoken English?”

  Mariana seemed to weigh the options up for a moment.

  “I think I would like to learn everything, if that is okay?”

  “Yeah, of course. Whatever you’d like.”

  A lull fell in the conversation, as Susie waited for Mariana to say something more. When she remained silent, Susie decided not to push it and instead let the lack of conversation between them carry on. The silence only abated when they had reached the bus stop.

  “This is where I get my bus—the 15 to Terenure.”

  Some of the warmth of last week returned to Mariana’s face.

  “Oh, that is my bus,” she told Susie. “Maybe we are neighbours? I have an apartment in Terenure.”

  “I reckon we could be,” Susie said. “We should go out for a pint sometime, or meet up for a cup of tea.”

  “We should,” Mariana said, but her face clouded again. “Sometime...”

  The uncomfortable quiet fell on the conversation again, much to Susie’s puzzlement.

  They had been walking quietly for five minutes upon leaving the bus when Mariana broke the silence.

  “I am not too far from here,” she said and pointed up a side street. “My apartment is just down there and then take a left.”

  Susie pointed to the right of them.

  “My place is just down here, at the back of this estate.”

  She didn’t know why Mariana had chosen to begin speaking to her again but she was glad. Despite that, she didn’t try to stimulate the dialogue again, for fear of being pushy. She was grateful, then, when Mariana, after staring above and around her for a few moments, spoke again.

  “I love the leaves in Ireland in autumn. It is so cold here and so grey sometimes, but then other times, when it is coldest, I look at the leaves on the trees and it seems like the sky is on fire.”

  Susie followed Mariana’s gaze to the burnt oranges and reds of the trees lining the narrow roadway, the leaves on either side forming almost a canopy above them. She had walked down this road many times before and had never noticed just how beautiful the foliage was. She stood like that for a minute, taking in the awesomeness of the sight, and then brought her gaze back down.

  “Is it like this in Brazil in autumn?”

  “No, it is different. But lovely too. In Brazil, in Anápolis where I am from, it is still hot in October because we don’t have the same summer times and winter times that you do. It rains too, in October, but not the same as in Ireland. In Ireland, it rains and rains and never stops all day. Where I come from, it gets hotter and hotter now. Then, once in a while, the air seems to get thicker and thicker until all of a sudden there is a bang and then a thunder storm. And I would sit in my room and just watch the sky light up and the rain come down.

  “Some people hate the thunder storms but I love them. They make the world come alive.”

  Susie pushed her hands in her pocket. The cold had started to nip at them.

  “Do you ever miss it all?” she asked. “Brazil, I mean?”

  Mariana shrugged.

  “Sometimes,” she said. “Mostly though, I miss people. I miss having loved ones near me.”

  Susie was about to ask more but realised that they had reached her house, almost without her noticing the journey.

  * * *

  Mariana was a little surprised to discover that Susie’s house was untidy. Not a little untidy either—the house looked like it hadn’t been cleaned in some time. The hallway was cluttered with junk and the carpet was in dire need of a vacuuming. Some of the wallpaper in the hall looked like it had been ripped off intentionally.

  “This way,” Susie said as she led Mariana into the kitchen. As Susie opened the door, her expression darkened. She said something under her breath that Mariana couldn’t make out.

  The kitchen was even more untidy than the hallway was. Dishes were piled high in the sink and various stains splotched the linoleum floor.

  “I’m really sorry about this. My housemates are pigs,” Susie said as she began picking empty beer cans from the kitchen table and throwing them a little too energetically into the bin. “I used to clean more when I first moved in. As you can probably tell, the others weren’t all that appreciative of the effort.”

  Mariana nodded.

  “I keep my room clean and the bathroom clean but that’s it. If I can stay away from this
mess all day, I try to.”

  Susie sighed loudly as she rinsed a cloth in the sink.

  “I’m sorry. I get frustrated. You don’t want to hear about my smelly housemates.”

  I do, Mariana wanted to tell her, I really do, but she settled with smiling supportively at Susie. Susie swept the cloth across the table, catching the crumbs and other debris in her hand. She poured the contents of her palm into the bin and gave her hands a wash in the sink.