Waiting for the Punchline

by Natasha West

  ‘No?’ Phoebe asked. Megan was really sweating right now. Phoebe wasn’t quite sure what to make of it.

  ‘I mean, yeah, you’re looking really good and everything, fantastic actually, but no, I wouldn’t try to… Shit. I’m digging myself in deep here. What I mean is, I only just got you to stop hating me so time’s been kind but I’m not going to try and bag you. Nope, that’s worse.’

  Megan decided to stop talking and she lay back on the bed, trying to will time backwards. She was never like this with women. She was usually sarcastic, dry, detached. And women ate it up with a spoon. But this wasn’t like that. She really wasn’t trying to get into Phoebe’s pants. She was too relieved to have her friendship back, there was no way she was prepared to fuck with it. And since that had happened only about an hour ago, Megan felt strongly on that point. Still, Phoebe had turned out absurdly hot. It was difficult to ignore that.

  It was then Megan remembered her old system, the one she’d used before things with Phoebe had been given an eighteen rating. Suppress, deny, push it down. It was the only way she was going to be able to do this.

  After a few minutes of Megan’s internal discourse, Phoebe spoke up. ‘You look good too, by the way’ she said quietly, still looking at the TV.

  Megan felt a heat spreading up her chest and thought No. Don’t say anything. It will be your downfall. It always is. There’s only one thing for it. Pretend to be asleep.

  Phoebe looked over at Megan, whose eyes were closed. She assumed Megan hadn’t heard her say that she looked good and thank heavens for that. It was a stupid comment, anyway.

  She reached for the remote and switched off the TV and lights. She climbed back under the covers, looking over at Megan in the near dark, thinking that this was the strangest weekend of her life. And for someone who worked in the music industry, that was no mean claim.

  A minute later, she was asleep.

  Thirty-Three

  Megan awoke the next morning to the sound of an electric toothbrush. She sat up and checked her phone. 9.32.

  She climbed out of the bed and staggered into the bathroom. Phoebe was just switching her toothbrush off, already showered and dressed. She looked fresh as a daisy on what couldn’t have been more than four hours sleep. Megan found that unfathomable.

  ‘What’s happening?’ Megan asked. ‘Why you up?’

  ‘Got a text an hour ago telling me that Jimmi Clarke came into the world about half two this morning, weighing six pounds and two ounces. I’m going to see her.’

  ‘People always announce the weight of a baby and I never have a fucking clue what it means. Can you break it down into something I can understand?’

  Phoebe thought for a moment. ‘Bit bigger than a chihuahua?’

  Megan pictured the dog. ‘A chihuahua came out of someone’s vagina? That sounds like a rough night.’

  Phoebe smiled into the mirror, applying mascara. ‘Are you coming?’

  ‘No, it’s just a bit warm in here’ Megan said automatically and then checked herself. ‘Sorry, what? To the hospital?’ she asked, surprised.

  ‘You got other plans?’

  ‘No, I just wasn’t expecting an invite.’

  ‘Are you kidding? Mack said you HAD to come, considering you got him there to see his daughter born. You’re the woman of the hour.’

  ‘That’s nice but I feel like Mack’s wife deserves at least some of the credit.’

  ‘True’ Phoebe conceded. ‘She gave birth between two of the biggest idiots in indie rock.’

  ‘Give me fifteen minutes and I’ll be ready to go.’

  Thirty-five minutes later, Megan finally stepped out of the bathroom. Phoebe’s first thought when she saw her was that she looked edible. But she wasn’t about to say that, so instead she said ‘Nothing changes, does it? Still late for everything.’

  ‘Nope, nothing does. But I take comfort in that’ Megan said, trying not to wonder how Phoebe’s hair smelt right now.

  And that’s when it happened.

  The wall of the room began to thud, softly, rhythmically. Megan and Phoebe both turned to the wall, confused. But not for long. Because soon, that gentle thudding wasn’t so gentle. And it was joined by a woman, moaning loudly.

  ‘Well… Someone’s having a good morning’ Megan said and pursed her lips, trying to pretend she wasn’t crawling out of her own skin with embarrassment.

  Phoebe couldn’t think of a single response that wouldn’t make the situation worse. So she simply pretended it wasn’t happening. ‘Shall we get going, then?’

  ‘Yes, let’s… Yes, yes’ Megan said gratefully.

  Megan and Phoebe fled the room.

  ‘Look at this poor little bugger’ Megan said, leaning over the crib. ‘She looks a bit undercooked.’

  Phoebe slapped Megan on the arm. ‘She’s premature. They always look like that. Give it time to get less…’

  ‘Fugly?’

  Phoebe considered little Jimmi. ‘Yeah. Fugly.’

  Mack and his wife, Amber, who was looking distinctly the worse for wear, walked in. Phoebe span to them, smiling quickly. ‘She’s gorgeous!’

  Mack and Amber beamed. ‘Isn’t she?’ Mack said. Phoebe nodded. Megan joined in, enthusiastically. ‘Yep, she’s gonna be a heartbreaker.’

  Downstairs, in the café, Phoebe and Megan regarded each other across the formica table as they drank bad coffee.

  ‘Quite a weekend’ Phoebe said.

  ‘That’s an understatement’ Megan agreed. ‘Where are you going next?’

  ‘North, got a few dates to play in Liverpool at the end of the week.’

  ‘What about Mack?’

  ‘It’s only two more weeks so we’ll get a session player in. Mack’s on paternity leave now.’

  Across the table, Joe’s head was in his hands. ‘Fucking session player. It’s not gonna be the same.’

  ‘I hope not’ Phoebe said. ‘If you start fighting with the new guy…’

  ‘How do you mean?’ Joe asked.

  ‘You and Mack. You’re worse than the Gallagher brothers.’

  Joe smiled, unphased. ‘That’s just how we vibe.’

  Phoebe said nothing to that.

  Megan, who’d observed this exchange, tried to keep her mouth shut, not to interfere. But with the best will in the world, Megan couldn’t stop herself. ‘So you’re not going to leave the band?’ she asked Joe. ‘Because that’s what she’s worried about but she finds it difficult to just come out with things.’

  Phoebe looked at Megan in horror. What the hell was she doing?

  ‘Fuck, no!’ Mack exclaimed. He turned to Phoebe. ‘What made you think that?’

  ‘Her parents were big arguers and they split. I think it’s given her issues’ Megan explained.

  ‘Megan, would you shut up!’ Phoebe exploded.

  But Joe leaned across the table, putting a hand on Phoebe’s arm, looking deep into her eyes. ‘We’re solid. Never worry. The band is the band is the band.’

  ‘What does that mean?’ Megan asked him.

  ‘Means what it means’ Joe answered.

  Megan’s brow furrowed, none the wiser.

  But Phoebe smiled. ‘Thanks Joe. That means a lot.’ And it did. Even though she hadn’t been the one to verbalise her fears, they were out and they’d been assuaged. And she was grateful, if annoyed at the liberty Megan had taken. Primarily, though, she was relieved. The band was not her parents’ marriage. They were sticking together.

  Later, after Joe had gone back up to ‘Have another look at the rug rat’ Phoebe gave Megan a look of disapproval.

  ‘I’m sorry. But you seemed stressed out and it was easy to fix’ Megan protested.

  Phoebe still looked annoyed.

  ‘Do I have to apologise again? I’m getting better with practise’ Megan offered.

  ‘No, I suppose not.’

  ‘Then are you going to say thanks?’ Megan asked, cheekily.

  ‘Don’t push your luck’ Phoebe said and then soften
ed. ‘Fine. Thank you, you interfering mare.’

  ‘You’re welcome, you stubborn mule’ Megan smiled. ‘I had it right though, didn’t I?’

  ‘I suppose you did’ Phoebe admitted.

  ‘It’s weird, that I still know you’ Megan said with a philosophical smile.

  ‘I guess that’s how it is.’

  ‘Maybe how it’ll always be’ Megan pondered with a small, content smile.

  You got a gig to get to?’ Phoebe asked by way of a subject change.

  ‘Yes, tonight.’

  They lapsed into a thick silence.

  ‘So I guess I better head off’ Megan said.

  Phoebe gave Megan a complicated look. ‘That’s that, then. Weird weekend over.’

  Megan nodded slowly. Yeah. I wish we had a bit more time to catch up, but…’

  ‘…But we’re adults now. Responsibilities and so forth.’

  Megan laughed. ‘I don’t know. I pay my bills talking crap on a stage. Not really an adult job.’

  ‘And I play my guitar so snap’ Phoebe shrugged and smiled.

  They looked at each other, knowing time had run out. The friendship was repaired in the strictest sense but still, they’d lost eighteen years. They’d keep in touch, of course. But this time they’d had, it wasn’t enough to satisfy either of them. Both wanted to delay the moment they had to part, neither able to think of a good reason to do so. Until Megan had a thought.

  ‘You need a lift back to the hotel or are you sticking around?’ Megan asked.

  Phoebe jumped up. ‘Not if you need to get going?’

  ‘I think I can spare you a few more minutes.’

  They headed for the car, grateful to get just a little more time.

  Thirty-Four

  Back at the hotel, Megan said she should probably use the toilet before she hit the road so they were in Phoebe’s twin room again. After Megan came out of the bathroom, which she absolutely had not needed to do, she looked at the two single beds. She wasn’t sure what made her fixate on them.

  But Phoebe understood it. She watched her for a moment and said. ‘Funny, isn’t it? You, me and two single beds again.’

  Megan looked to Phoebe, surprised at the reference to that other part of their history. But she was happy to think about it. ‘I loved that time, you know’ she said sincerely.

  Phoebe took a deep breath. ‘Yeah. Up to the end, it was…’

  Megan waited for the adjective, but it never came. ‘I suppose it’s time to go’ she said quietly.

  She walked over to Phoebe and pulled her into a hug. Phoebe, never a hugger, wasn’t sure what to do with it at first. But it didn’t take her long to realise how good it felt and she clung on to Megan.

  As they separated, Megan went to say, ‘Keep in touch’ but before she could, she felt Phoebe’s warm lips on hers. It was only a second and then Phoebe suddenly jumped back. ‘Sorry’ she said, horrified. ‘I was going for your cheek.’

  Megan didn’t know what to do, how to react. Had it really been an accident?

  If Phoebe was being honest, no, the kiss had not been an accident. Or, if it had been, it had not been a mistimed lip connection. It had been a different kind of slip up. Being so close to Megan, that familiarity of touch and smell, all she could have said - if she’d been put on the witness stand and made to testify in front of a jury of her peers - is that for a second, it just felt right. Once everything had been said and done – and a lot had been said and done over the last couple of days - that was the truth of it. Megan felt like home.

  Phoebe took a step back from Megan, feeling like it was time to be honest. ‘I think you’d better go. Because if you stay, I can’t promise I won’t try to do that again.’

  Megan felt her heart begin to thud. A platonic friendship had been doable a few minutes ago. But that was a few minutes ago. Megan dropped her bag on the floor and looked at Phoebe. Phoebe took a frightened step back.

  ‘Meg, I’m serious. Get out. We only just sorted things.’

  Megan made a move but it wasn’t toward the door. It was a step toward Phoebe.

  Phoebe put a halting hand up, saying ‘Megan. We can’t.’

  Megan locked eyes with Phoebe but she stayed rooted to the spot, waiting. Phoebe took another step back. ‘Don’t do this, I’m begging you.’

  ‘I’m not doing anything’ Megan said, a bead of sweat formed at the base of her neck. ‘You’re the one who laid your lips on me.’

  ‘That was a mistake. And yes, you are doing something and you know it’ Phoebe said.

  Megan nodded gently. ‘Ok, tell me to go one more time. Just say it. And I’ll go.’

  ‘Why can’t you just leave?’ Phoebe pled.

  ‘Why can’t you just ask?’ Megan pressed.

  Phoebe moistened her lips. Megan waited.

  ‘What if I don’t ask? What happens then? We play this out again and then it’s ruined all over. And you’ll be gone. And then what? I run into you when we’re fifty? I can’t.’ Phoebe explained in fearful tones.

  ‘You don’t think that scares me as well?’ Megan asked.

  Phoebe sat down on the edge of her bed. Megan sat down on the opposite bed.

  ‘It’s going to seem stupid to you, that I’m holding it against you, something that happened half a lifetime ago…’ Phoebe began.

  ‘I don’t think it’s stupid.’

  They sat quietly, no words to be found for a moment. And then Megan shook her head. ‘It must seem like I’m being cavalier about this. But the truth is…’ Megan shrugged. ‘I’ve never loved anybody but you. I’ve spent the last seventeen years pretending that’s not true, but I can’t do that now, can I? Because I’m here with you now and I don’t want to be anywhere else on the planet’ Megan said, feeling light headed.

  Phoebe’s lips parted slightly but she couldn’t speak. But Megan did. ‘If you asked me to stay, I would. I’d stay no matter what. In fact, if someone knocked on the door right now and said they wanted to give me my own sitcom, I’d say ‘No thanks, too busy right now. I want to stay here and watch TV with Phoebe.’ With you. Doesn’t even matter if you never let me touch you again’ Megan said, laughing softly at herself, at how much she was laying on the line right now. ‘I’m where I want to be.’

  Phoebe couldn’t even look at Megan, she was trying not to cry. One tear made a break for it and the ruse was up.

  Megan stood from the bed and knelt in front of Phoebe, taking Phoebe’s hands in hers. ‘But that’s if you ask me to stay. If you say go, that’ll be alright too. We can hit rewind on the last ten minutes, stay friends. You’re not going to lose me either way.’

  Phoebe gripped onto Megan’s hands. ‘You’ve got a gig tonight-’

  ‘I’ll call them right now. My warm-up can have the slot’ Megan said without hesitation. ‘Or they cancel and everyone gets a refund. I couldn’t care less.’

  Phoebe finally looked up at Megan. And she knew Megan had made these kinds of promises before and smashed them a day later. She also knew that Megan might believe what she was saying now and that she could change her mind later. She knew it might be weak to give in. But if it was weak, then she would be weak.

  Because it might not be weakness. It might be the bravest thing she’d ever do, ignoring the possibility of heartbreak for the chance of loving Megan again. Of having Megan be here.

  Phoebe dropped Megan’s hands and slipped her hands onto her face, pulling her into a kiss, a deep, warm, fervent, intense kiss. And then it was happening. They were on the bed, clothes flying off, the kiss transforming into a something else, something that couldn’t be stopped.

  ‘Stay’ Phoebe said between kisses. And Megan did.

  Later, Megan made a call that pissed off her booking agent no end. But she took his rant with good grace. Because Phoebe was naked, lying in the crook of her arm, fast asleep.

  Once Megan had finished the call, she turned the phone off, throwing it on the floor. She wrapped her other arm around Phoebe, gripping on fo
r dear life. She thought she might never let go.

  Thirty-Five

  Three days later, room twenty-six of the Hotel Go-Tel was still occupied. There was no reason to leave it. Food was regularly brought up to the room by a teenage boy who told the other hotel staff that he was sure that Phoebe from Subatomic was doing it around the clock with a female comedian he’d seen on a panel show once. No one believed him. It was a chain hotel, they didn’t rate celebrity sex marathons.