Caught by Love: A Lesbian Romance

by Jade Winters

  “In that case she might just be lonely and looking for attention.”

  “Aren’t we all,” Leah said in a low, perfectly audible tone before turning away and gathering her coat and bag from a stool. “Anyway, I’d better make a move before she calls an ambulance. Right, is there anything else I can do or get you before I leave?” Her voice rang with command. Hannah didn’t mind, it was because of her take charge attitude that she’d employed her as her personal assistant four years ago.

  “No, you’ve done more than enough.”

  “Well I’ll give you a call later.” She leaned forward to give Hannah a farewell hug. “Are you sure you’re going to be okay?”

  Hannah cast her peacock green eyes downward. “I’m going to have to be. I can’t keep running forever,” she said in a voice shakier than she would have liked.

  “Okay, try and take it easy and make sure you eat something.”

  “I will. I hope your mum is okay.”

  “Trust me, I know my mother inside out and believe me when I tell you, she’s more than fine.”

  They both walked silently to the front door, briefly hugging again before Hannah opened it to let her out.

  Softly closing the door behind her, Hannah leaned back against it. The day of reckoning, the one she had been dreading was now a reality—she was alone in the house of pain.

  Making her way back to the living room, she deliberately avoided looking up the staircase that led to the bedroom. She wasn’t quite ready for that yet— she’d be backtracking to Cumbria if she faced it too soon, maybe tomorrow or the day after, but not now. She had promised herself to take one step at a time but knew it was going to be more like a massive leap.

  For a long time she sat on the plush mauve three seater sofa in silence looking at one of the many silver framed photographs of Naomi. It hurt just to see her face and the way her untamed hair fell over her smiling eyes. She had always looked so happy. So full of life. She felt a sob catch in her throat. “Are you happy wherever you are?” she asked the static picture.

  Although at one time she believed in life after death, she wasn’t so sure anymore. The search for the meaning of Naomi’s death challenged all the beliefs she once held. Surely there would have been some sort of sign to let her know she was still around but there had been nothing. She inhaled deeply as she felt a prickling sensation behind her eyes. In all honesty, she was surprised she had any tears left. For the first eight months she had cried daily. It was only in the past few weeks they had subsided to every other day then to every other week.

  The fine hairs on the back of her neck stood up like quills and a shiver ran down her spine as Hannah heard the doorbell ring. She wasn’t expecting visitors and was in absolutely no mood for company. Had Leah forgotten something? Or was she just checking up on her? She’s too over protective, she thought, getting up quickly and heading along the hallway. She was still smiling to herself as she opened the door.

  “I hope you haven’t come back to check up . . . .” She was caught off guard by the woman who stood a few feet away dressed in tight distressed jeans, black boots and a black leather jacket. As their eyes met she felt an unexpected flush of adrenaline tingle through her body.

  “Hello, Hannah.”

  Hannah was momentarily speechless in her surprise.

  “Do you mind if I come in? Despite being sunny, it’s a quite nippy out here.”

  Hannah shrugged to hide her confusion. Alisa. The name froze in her brain. She was the last person on earth she thought she would ever see again. She looked at her as if seeing her for the first time. Though a year had passed since their last encounter she was still taken aback by the way her espresso brown hair, heightened the effect of her glacial blue eyes, giving her perfect oval face an intensity that was rarely seen.

  “I’ll take that as a yes, then,” Alisa said smiling, as she stepped over the threshold, forcing Hannah to automatically take a step back and let her walk by. Hannah wasn’t surprised when she watched the back of her slim figure, glide straight into the living room as though she had just arrived home. There was a time when their home had been Alisa’s home away from home. But that was long ago and things were a lot different now.

  The newly released anger she felt rise within her somehow made her find her voice. “What can I do for you, Alisa?” Hannah asked as she followed her, stopped in the doorway and leaned casually against the frame. She was damned if she was going to be hospitable to this woman.

  Alisa ignored the obvious hostility in Hannah’s voice. “I heard through the grapevine you were back in town, so I thought I’d come over to personally welcome you back.”

  Hannah was immediately irked by Alisa’s cool and aloof attitude. She’d strode into their, her home like nothing had ever happened. As if it was just another day. Well, it wasn’t and she aimed to put her right in her place. “Well, consider it done. If there’s nothing else, I’d like you to leave . . . now!” She nodded with a taut jerk of her head towards the front door.

  Alisa’s ice blue eyes bored into hers, locking them in place so she couldn’t have turned away even if she tried. Alisa had an arresting beauty that was hard to ignore. “Look, Han, I can understand you’re still angry with me but I thought all of that was laid to rest now, considering—”

  “What? Considering Naomi is dead?” Hannah let out a bitter laugh. “She may be buried, Alisa, but she’s not forgotten and neither is what you did to her, to us.”

  “Not everything is always as it seems, Han,” she said protesting.

  Hannah’s eyes widened with astonishment. “Oh, isn’t it? Please enlighten me on what I so stupidly have gotten wrong.”

  “Is there any need for all of this now, really? What’s done is done. What’s the point of raking up the past?”

  Hannah straightened up and planted her hands on her hips. “How can you . . .” Her voice broke off mid sentence. She realised that Alisa was right in that sense. There wasn’t any point. There was nothing either of them could say that would change anything. They stood in silence for a long moment, looking at each other like strangers, not the good friends they once were.

  “I think we’re done here,” Hannah said, turning and walking back towards the door.

  “Hannah, we were really close once, doesn’t that stand for anything?” Alisa’s voice trailed behind her.

  “Were being the operative word,” Hannah said. “I want you to leave.”

  Alisa walked up beside her and stopped inches away from her. She dug into the leather satchel that hung over her shoulder and came out with a large padded envelope.

  “Okay, I’ll go but I think you should have this.” Alisa held the envelope in front of Hannah.

  Hannah visually inspected the package, then looked up at her suspiciously. When she made no attempt to take it from her, Alisa added, “It belongs to you.”

  Hannah shook her head decisively. “There’s nothing you have that I would want.”

  Alisa shrugged her shoulders. “It’s not from me,” she said, forcing the package into Hannah’s hands. She gave Hannah one last look before walking down the hall, slamming the door behind her.

  The bloody gall of that woman, Hannah thought, staring at the back of the door. She couldn’t believe at one time in her life she had actually loved her like a sister. The three of them were so close. Alisa was often referred to as the other woman in their partnership, but neither Naomi or herself cared what others thought. She wasn’t ashamed to admit that she was proven to be wrong in the end. And it was for that very reason she was not going to be taken in by her again.

  The shrill of the telephone broke into the silence. She looked at it for a few seconds before deciding to ignore it. She needed to be alone. Stuffing the envelope under her arm, she pressed both hands over her eyes as if they burnt with weariness.

  Seeing Alisa had brought back too many painful memories. She consoled herself with the knowledge that she would never have to see her again.

  Suddenl
y all she wanted to do was sleep. She hoped if she could manage a few hours, she would wake up to find that Alisa’s visit had only been a bad dream.

  ***

  Silver moonlight sliced through the dark room as Hannah aroused from the numbness of sleep, gasping for air. Pushing herself up onto her elbows and placing a trembling hand to her chest, she forced herself to take long deep breaths. The reoccurring nightmares she suffered had plagued her since childhood. They were triggered by times of uncertainty and were always the same theme—she was falling uncontrollably through the air and woke up just before she hit the ground. The feelings of being out of control were unbearable and when she came to she felt drained, hollow and lifeless.

  Many a night Naomi would embrace and rock her gently in her arms, hushing her in sweet soft tones like she was comforting a baby, promising her that she was safe and that she wouldn’t let anything hurt her. But now she had no such support. She was going to have to dig deep to find some inner strength that could force out the darkness that seemed to prevail her mind. At least for now she knew what the cause of this current disturbance was—Alisa Forbes. A cold shiver spread over her as she remembered her standing in that very room.

  What on earth was she playing at showing up unannounced? Hadn’t she made her feelings crystal clear at the hospital and the funeral that she wanted nothing from her—neither her sympathy nor friendship?

  Pushing herself up into a sitting position, she looked around as her eyes slowly adjusted to the moonlit room. She felt an odd sense of security being back amongst the things Naomi had chosen for their home. Unlike herself, Naomi had a wonderful sense of interior design. Hannah might have been able to put a film together but colours and furnishings were definitely not her forte.

  She could see the silhouette of the worn, battered leather armchair in the corner of the room. Naomi had insisted on buying it, despite it being out of place with the more modern pieces that were scattered throughout the room. It wouldn’t have surprised her to see Naomi curled up on it, with her trademark grin and the enthusiasm of a child on Christmas day, barely able to contain herself with the new storyline she had just come up with for her next script.

  She reached over to the silver lamp sitting beside her on a small round glass table, her hand still trembling as she felt around for the switch. It was times like this that she wished she was a smoker—she wanted use of a prop that could serve as a distraction, anything that would take her mind off herself. One of the reasons she had returned to London was to see a therapist. She knew in her heart of hearts that nothing was going to bring Naomi back, but she needed to find the tools to manage what she felt. The pain of being alone and the pain of being herself never subsided—it lived with her on a daily basis, like her own shadow.

  Finally locating the switch, Hannah flicked it down with her thumb and in an instant the room lit up in a ball of light lifting her dark mood instantly. Easing herself off the sofa, she headed for the kitchen. Though she knew the best thing to do was to eat something, the thought of food repelled her, but a glass of wine—yes, that would be just the thing to calm her jangled nerves.

  Opening the fridge door, she let herself smile at Leah’s thoughtfulness. She had purchased every kind of temptation she thought Hannah wouldn’t be able to resist— from scallops with chorizo sausage in a garlic butter sauce to the rocky sundaes she normally consumed at an alarming rate. Leah had thought of everything. Thank God she didn’t forget the wine, she thought as she lifted the chilled Chablis from the inside tray and placed it on the counter. After taking a glass from one of the cabinets, she uncorked the bottle and poured the wine. From the corner of her eye she could see the large brown envelope commanding her attention.

  Ignoring it, she brought the glass to her lips and took a delicate sip, wincing as the acidic taste caressed her tongue—she didn’t care, she wasn’t drinking it for the taste, it was the effects she was after.

  Feeling momentarily satisfied, she set the glass down on the counter with a clink, before turning and leaning her waist against its hard edge. She stared at the envelope like a moth to a flame, until her curiosity finally got the better of her. Striding over to the dining table, she picked it up. Heavy in weight, she tore at the sealed flap and pushed her fingers in to retrieve a thick wad of paper. What the? she thought as she flicked through the pages.

  A script—had Alisa lost her mind? Did she really think she was in any fit state to direct a film? She couldn’t care less if Jesus himself had written it, there was no way she was going to be. . . Her inner dialogue died when she looked at the cover page. The words, written in Times New Roman, made her drop the papers back on the table as if they were a raging inferno. Her mind scrambled as the reality of what she had held started to make sense.

  It was the last script to be written by the woman she loved. Her whispered words seemed to echo throughout the kitchen—“Caught by love, by Naomi Roberts.”

  Chapter 4

  The oak wood floor swayed underneath her feet, as a swift wind blew forcefully over the moored houseboat on the River Thames. Alisa sat alone inside the open planned living area, hunched over a long glass dining table, which had been strategically placed in front of the double sized windows which offered a clear view of Chelsea Bridge. She crushed out her cigarette in the overflowing ashtray. So much for giving up, she thought, disgusted with herself as she eyed half a dozen butts from the cigarettes she had smoked within the last hour. Her meeting with Hannah hadn’t gone quite as smoothly as she would have liked and it had left her on edge.

  But what had she expected? Hannah to greet her with open arms? She was not naïve enough to believe that. Those sort of things happened in the movies she made, not in real life.

  She ignored the temptation to light another cigarette and instead rose from her seat and walked the short distance to the drinks cabinet. Pouring a splash of scotch into a glass, she drank it neat in one gulp before pouring herself another. This time she took it back with her to her seat. It was still early but who cared. She was a grown woman—she could drink whatever time of the day she wanted.

  Withdrawing another cigarette from the now near empty box, she struck a flame from the silver lighter Hannah had given her many years ago. Funny how something so inane as a lighter could outlast a friendship, she thought as she inhaled deeply before exhaling a cloud of smoke.

  She shook her head in dismay. Friendship. In the grand scheme of things, what was it? What did it really stand for? I’ll be friends with you until you do something I don’t like and that will be the end of it. Wasn’t that how it really went? Or, I’ll call you when I need you. Wasn’t that the reality of so called friendships? All one sided, like most relationships—where one person gives more than the other. Well, as far as she was concerned it was a case of to hell with friends forever bullshit. She had seen the true colours of too many so called friends and they weren’t pretty. The belief that friends were there for you through thick and thin was just another illusion that was pulled over gullible people’s eyes. It was just another lie to believe in.

  Though she had plenty of acquaintances and women to keep her company she could only have named Naomi as her best friend and Hannah a close second. But look how that had all ended. She’d learnt her lesson and now was very careful about who she trusted. Only Bobby, her agent and friend, was left now. She knew he was the only person she could trust and rely on in any circumstance.

  She took a sip of scotch, welcoming the burning sensation that made its way down her throat. She wondered if Hannah had opened the envelope yet. Knowing her as well as she did, she wouldn’t have. She knew how stubborn she was, waiting until she could no longer bear it before finally giving in. It was a trait that Naomi used to find infuriating but Alisa thought it was quite endearing.

  Though Hannah’s eyes had dark circles underneath them and her long sleeved white blouse and jeans hung loosely on her frame, mentally she seemed to be doing a lot better than Alisa thought she would be. If she was bei
ng honest she was surprised she was still functioning at all. She knew that Naomi had been Hannah’s world, that the sun rose and set for her. Alisa would have been the first to admit that she had been a little envious of their relationship—who wouldn’t have been? They had everything going for them. But she had loved them both so much she was happy they had found one another. Now though, Naomi was gone and it didn’t look like Hannah was going to be resuming their friendship anytime soon.

  “Oh, well, here’s to leaving the past in the past,” she said aloud, hoisting her glass in a small gesture suggesting a toast to thin air, before draining the contents.

  Hearing the sound of heavy footsteps on the decking above, Alisa stood up and waited until Bobby came down the narrow staircase and into view wearing a black suit with a crisp white shirt. Big and burly, with a personality to match, he bounded towards her as if propelled by an explosive force.

  “Hello, my sweet pea,” he said, pulling her towards him in a bear hug, then taking her by the shoulders and planting a kiss on each of her cheeks. His nose wrinkled at the smell of alcohol. “Hmm, on the booze already? And smoking as well, this is not a good sign. Why don’t you pour me a drink and tell me all about your day?”

  Alisa walked over to the drinks cabinet aligning the wall opposite the seating area, grabbed the bottle of scotch and a clean glass and joined Bobby at the table, placing them down in front of him so he could help himself. “You don’t want to know.”

  Bobby was a kind, gentle man in his late sixties who had been Alisa’s agent from the very beginning of her career.

  Draping his suit jacket on the back of his chair, he slid onto the seat. “Oh, but that’s where you’re wrong, my darling, you know you’re at the centre of my universe. Now out with it. What’s sent you on a downward spiral? I know it’s nothing career wise because you’ve just had the best reviews for your latest film, so this must be personal.”

  She leaned back into the chair seriously considering lighting up again. “You know me so well,” she said sarcastically.