Euro Tripped

by Sally Bryan

  She did the same and ran her gaze down my torso and legs. “Spontaneous?” This was in reference to the fact I was in my shorts and t-shirt, which said ‘Hug Me’ on it, and was bereft of all makeup including contact lenses. If I’d found myself drawn to this place then I’d subconsciously ensured I was looking as far from presentable as possible, though Neves didn’t seem to think so.

  I laughed, “literally just got out of bed.”

  “Can’t sleep or early riser?” When I didn’t answer she filled in the gaps. “I see. You can tell me if you want? What else is there to do and the longer we speak the more Ginja we get to drink.” The next shots arrived, this time we savoured them and she continued to smile as she waited for me.

  “I’ve had a few bad nights.” I sighed and almost put my hand on her leg, a habit from the last girl I was this close to. “In fact, I very nearly came here last night and the night before.” Which was true. I’d walked past the place on several occasions and each time had failed to make it beyond the paving curb.

  She nodded slowly in recognition like she understood the subtext to my words though I was sure my demeanour also gave it away. “We’ve all been there,” she touched my arm to make the next point, “we lesbians anyway.” And then she also registered my discomfort at being called that word. The truth was I didn’t consider myself one of those. “Ah, you really are way back in Narnia.”

  I laughed loud at that one, “way back in Narnia? That’s hilarious and you amaze me with your ability to have a two-way conversation with yourself.”

  Her hand had never left my arm and now we were facing each other straight on. So this is how it felt to enter a gay bar and meet a woman who liked women. No harm had come to me so far, though what had I been expecting? The girl was friendly and chilled enough and the conversation, so far, had been without pressure.

  She was studying my hair and her hand left my arm so she could feel a few errant strands of red between her fingers. “Did you really just get out of bed?”

  I nodded, “I wasn’t joking, which is why I’m totally flattered yet confused you’re finding me attractive.”

  She again ran her gaze down my body, “because you look that good in your pyjamas, so you have to be worth getting to know.”

  I brushed some red behind my ear, “thank you, that’s kind of you to say,” and something I needed to hear right now and in a fit of hysterics, I almost broke down and blabbed all my problems, only managing to stop myself because she’d turned again to the barman.

  She spoke Portuguese, some port was poured and two glasses were handed to us. “I’m not liking the lack of privacy around here, let’s find a booth.”

  My heart rose into my mouth and it was clear where she wanted this to go but she was already striding towards a quiet booth in the corner and for the first time I could see how tall she was, with slender legs in tight fitting jeans and I had to admit, I admired her confidence. It was never like this with men, at least not until they’d become accustomed to me, or in Gabe’s case slept with me, because the chemicals turn mens’ brains into an incoherent mess. But Neves had it together, which made me wonder just how practiced with this she was, though in the moment, I couldn’t be certain I really cared anyway. I was lonely, hurt, confused and here was a girl, a stranger, showing me some interest.

  It was one of those circular booths, dimly lit by a low hanging lamp and the leather seating squeaked as we slid around from opposite sides, coming to meet in the centre and either by accident or design, our thighs squished together and she didn’t move to correct that.

  My arms were pulled inwards as I clammed up and I reached nervously forward to take a sip of port. “I like your hair.” I told her and received a smile in return.

  “I like your figure,” she returned, “I noticed you the minute you walked in and wasn’t about to let someone else say hi first.”

  I looked down and to the side, without thinking tried to tuck more hair behind my ear and found nothing loose. I coughed, “so, tell me about yourself.” Please be normal.

  She drank some port and, recognising that I needed the pressure taken off me here, went into a long relieving monologue about how she’d taken a law degree at the University of Coimbra and then settled into a job making pastry at a small local bakery, how she’d hoped for something more but the economy was bad, even for lawyers, how she was one of two sisters, the other being straight and married with a baby on the way.

  I began to open up, little by little, possibly because Neves seemed absolutely normal. What had I been expecting? And the conversation became gradually more two-sided as she asked about my travels and I spoke mostly about Carcassonne and Barcelona, ensuring to omit details about my travelling companions and if she was curious about who I was with, she knew better than to ask.

  My head swirled from the port and we spent a few moments watching the other couples in the bar.

  “This is your first time in one of these places, isn’t it,” Neves said as a matter of fact. “Are we all as frightening as you imagined?”

  I blushed and felt like a fish out of water. “It’s all very interesting, I must admit.”

  The place was extremely relaxed, though I put that down to it being a Portuguese rather than a gay bar. The lesbian couples outnumbered the men and not a single person was dancing, instead, everyone had paired off and sat in similar booths to ours, in deep and cosy conversation or else kissing. It was all very peaceful, even if to my uneducated eyes, some of the couples looked incredibly mismatched, though I recognised I was probably being unfair. Was that how people would look at Arwen and me? And then I squeezed my eyes shut and slowly exhaled, guilty I was thinking about my Australian but being unable to help it.

  “I’m sorry,” she began, “I can’t be this close to you all this time and not do this…” and she gently turned my jaw towards her and then there was the taste of port as she pressed her lips to mine and her hand was lightly tugging my hair before sliding down, grazing a breast and coming to rest on my thigh. I needed a while before moving my hand from my lap to her leg, and despite being in the moment and enjoying her kiss, her touch, it was nothing like being with Arwen. That I was kissing someone else and it felt like I was being unfaithful not to Gabe but to Arwen said so much to me, though I couldn’t be sure if that was because Neves was a woman.

  Our tongues touched and her hand slipped under my shorts to rest against the flesh high up my outer thigh and with a hard passionate finish, she pulled away, licked her lips and hummed, arching her back and pushing her breasts against my arm. It felt good but not the same.

  “Now that was enjoyable.” She readjusted herself and the leather squeaked. “Listen, I’ve pretty much already given the game away that I’m attracted to you so there’s no harm in going for broke here,” she continued as my head fizzed, “my apartment’s a five minute walk away … if you’re interested? And just so you know, I make the best breakfasts in Lagos.”

  Well, it was there if I wanted it, a human touch, to feel needed, to be taken by a woman who obviously knew what she was doing. And to look at her was to see an attractive woman, except I felt no attraction for her.

  And why was that?

  Was it because she was a woman or because she wasn’t Arwen?

  She saw my hesitation, “Freya? Are you all right?” Her hands touched my forearm. “If I came on too strong, I…”

  “No, no … I … I mean, you’re lovely,” I heaved and my chest quivered and then I couldn’t prevent the tears from cascading from my eyes and I was so embarrassed that I had to turn away, “I’m sorry … so … so sorry.” I began to slide out from the booth because I wanted to run, somewhere, anywhere, to curl up, to hide but I felt her hand on my shoulder and froze.

  “Freya,” her voice was warm and caring, “you can’t go anywhere like this. It’s fine. Please, stay, tell me what’s wrong.”

  I hid my face under my hands, “you don’t want to know.”

  “Oh yes, I do.” Her arm was
around me now and how could I not return to her?

  I slid back and breathed, wiped the tears, tried to meet her eyes and couldn’t. “I’m sorry for ruining your night.”

  She pulled me in and began patting me on the shoulder, much like how a parent would tend a crying child and if she’d wanted me a minute ago, I doubt she did anymore and it was a small mercy that I was in no physical position to be able to look up and see her disappointment. “You have not ruined my night.” She lied.

  I needed a few minutes to dry my face and settle myself whilst she passed me tissues and made soothing sounds into my ear.

  Did I really come to a gay bar as a cry for help?

  Well, if one thing came from this whole episode, it’s that I could no longer refer to myself as the rational one. That title could go to Lachlan and probably even Lizzie before myself, which showed how bad things had become.

  “If you’re ready, I’m here to listen.”

  Oh, where to begin but I unloaded it all, everything, the pressures of life, the trip, Gabe, Dan, meeting Arwen, developing a major crush on a girl, my infidelity, panicking, being a horrible cow, making the biggest mistake of my life, her leaving, the inevitable breaking down of my relationship with Gabe, his bloody proposal, my accepting, experiencing a delayed reaction to Arwen leaving, even that bloody bottle of wine that fell from my bag, until finally, with nowhere else to turn, I’d come to the one place I hoped to find a friend. “I really fucked up and I just miss her so much.” She almost got a word in but I spoke over her. “I feel like I discovered the best thing that ever happened to me and didn’t properly appreciate it, I treated her like crap, and forced her away because I was a selfish coward and now she’s gone and I’m only now realising I might have thrown away my only chance for happiness,” I scrunched up another soggy tissue, “I just feel so helpless.”

  She snapped her fingers and a bottle of port was brought over.

  “Oh, I’ll get this,” I went for my bag but she dismissed me.

  “No chance, you’re a guest in my country,” she paid the man and poured the sweet red liquid into our glasses, “and I owe you because after hearing that, I feel much better about my myself.”

  “Huh?”

  She grinned, “because I thought I was losing my powers but it doesn’t sound like you’re much of a dyke to me.” Seriously? That’s what she took from the story of my ordeal?

  “But…” I stammered.

  “I’ve still got it and that’s a relief.” She flicked her hair from one shoulder to the other and saw my stupefaction. “Oh, relax, I’m joking.”

  “You are?”

  “Drink.” She pushed the port closer to me and I took it and drank. “Listen, you’re an intelligent woman, which apparently is no barrier to getting yourself into a mess and yes, you’ve been a bitch to two people and in return, you’re getting it back.” She shook her head, “listen, I’m no believer in karma. I don’t think good things happen to good people just by sitting around and waiting for it to happen and neither do I think bad shit happens either. What I do know is that you’ve cheated on this Gabe guy, which means your heart isn’t in it and every minute extra you spend with him is two minutes wasted.”

  “Mine and his.”

  “For a doctor, you catch on quick. Are you sure you’re not knocked up too?” She smirked and I slapped her on the arm. “You know, it’s not too late to take this to bed,” she said with a straight face.

  “I…”

  “Relax, I’m half joking.”

  “Um…”

  “Freya, you’re too easy,” she grinned again. “Look, I can’t tell you what to do but if it were me, I’d break it off with the man and go find the woman. Is it really rocket science?”

  I squirmed against the seat, “but how can I be sure she won’t just laugh in my face?” It’s what I would do and probably enjoy it, though Arwen was not me, even though she loved laughing and often at other people’s expense. I didn’t think she’d take pleasure in my misery.

  She shrugged, “it’s a possibility and if it were me, I probably would and it’d be deserved,” great, and now that makes two of us, “but if you’re serious about this Arwen girl then she’s probably worth the risk of being laughed at.”

  Which meant I had to find her and beg for forgiveness.

  Something in my belly sank. “I have no idea where she is.” Come to think of it, I didn’t even have her number although Dan did. Attempting to obtain it would raise questions though that was hardly my most pressing concern.

  “You sure like to throw up obstacles to what’s actually pretty simple. The logistics are for you to figure out, that’s beyond my pay grade as a friend, or whatever we are.”

  “I hope we’re friends,” I said and meant it.

  “We’re hardly likely to ever see each other again after tonight,” which was sad but a fact of life, “and all I got to show for it was a kiss, nice as it was.”

  I turned the port glass in my hand, “maybe you should not be so quick to dismiss karma. You can’t be so sure the universe will never reward you for being a good person.” I was beginning to sound less and less like someone who’d studied mathematics, science and medicine and more like one of those artsy types, someone like Arwen.

  “Freya,” and then a lesbian I met in some gay bar in Portugal spoke the words I would one day frame and place in a position of prominence, “the universe rewards us every single day. We’re here. We have free will to do whatever we want but only for a very short time. The biggest crime in existence is to waste it.”

  * * *

  It was whilst strolling through the surf, flip flops in hand when from behind pattered the soft steps of feet on sand and I turned to see Gabe running towards me. I waited for him to catch up and when he did he was panting for breath.

  “You really need to get yourself in shape.” I told him before continuing.

  His complexion had improved since he’d been exiling himself from the mosquitoes, though him being outside this late in the evening was a risk. “Freya, we need to talk.” It was said with the kind of tonality people used when it was something important, something like a breakup and indeed, he’d foregone using my pet name, even going so far as saying my name in full, which he seldom did unless he wanted my attention.

  I raised an eyebrow. “Sounds serious.”

  “Of course it’s serious, it’s about us.”

  The waves were of that typical Algarve sort, small yet rapid and they felt so gentle and soothing on my bare feet. “You’ve left it a long time. We’ve barely spoken since Seville and now, suddenly you want to speak with me, whilst I’m enjoying a nice walk along the beach? What happened?”

  He ran his hands through his hair, which was the longest I’d ever seen it. “I’m not proud of that but I’ve had a long time to think about things.”

  “You’re not the only one,” I said, looking straight ahead at the long empty stretch of sand. It was the evening after I’d met Neves and I knew what had to be done and as horrific as it would be, I felt strangely at peace with it. My relationship with Gabe was over, even though, for now, I was still wearing his ring.

  I’d spent the entire day ruminating over the details. After five years we had shit to unravel, things like living arrangements, placements, bank accounts, mutual friends, property and several other such things that would be better left until after we arrived back in the UK and I’d briefly entertained the idea of leaving the breakup until then, as grotesque as that sounded.

  But no. As Neves had said, wasting your one life on earth may be a huge crime but it was an even bigger one to waste that of someone else, and someone you loved at that. It needed to be done despite the fact we were on holiday, which was far from ideal timing yet it was also necessary if I was to separate from the group to find Arwen.

  Though from Gabe’s tone, I half wondered if he was about to get in there first which, I’d admit, would be a relief.

  “Freya, I want to make things right be
tween us.”

  That was a shock and I was suddenly incensed, catching even myself by surprise. “I have absolutely no desire to make things right with someone who continues to lie to me.”

  He knew what I meant and we both found ourselves stopping. “I’m sorry, I regret what I did and I admit it. I didn’t want to meet your sister and when you fell asleep, I held my breath and continued.” He was looking defiantly at me. “I don’t know what I was thinking … I mean … what did I expect would happen, that you’d wake up and not realise? Agh, this whole trip…”

  I felt my facial muscles softening. “Well thank you for finally admitting what I already knew but why didn’t you want to meet my sister?”

  He looked down and I followed his gaze to see he was wearing his trainers and even now the waves were washing over them. “Because … agh … because your family…” he shook his head, “no, that’s not true, I’d have no problem meeting your sister, ordinarily.”

  “Your feet, Gabe, and you’re not making much sense.”

  “Oh, I don’t care, not right now and I’m trying, ugh.” He blew out air and was doing his best to maintain eye contact. “It’s just that, I’ve been under so much pressure.”

  “Yes,” I drew out the word, “as you said before. We’ve both been under pressure.”

  “No … I’ve been thinking about this a lot and nothing will be right again until I just come out and say it.”

  Well, he certainly had my attention now. “Say what, Gabe?”

  He closed his eyes and took a few breaths. “That stupid proposal. I was under pressure to do it because of your dad.”

  I blinked, “I’m sorry, my dad? What’s he got to do with anything?”

  He threw up his arm. “It was his idea. More than just his idea, he was practically threatening me to do it and I caved because, quite honestly, he’s your dad and he terrifies me.”

  I’d lost all feeling in my face as the blood drained from there to go where it was needed, my legs to power a flight response. But I would not run from Gabe. “My dad threatened you to propose to me?”