by Clare Lydon
Vic took a chance and leant in for a kiss. It was slow and gentle at first. Vic’s blood charged through her veins and her heartbeat revved. Encouraged by Stevie’s response, the parting of her lips, the taste of her tongue, Vic escalated the level of their kissing.
Unfortunately for her, it coincided with the moment Tash and Laura chose to reach their crescendo, with both now groaning loudly.
Stevie pulled back and shook her head. “I can’t, not with this.” She rolled into Vic and buried her head into her shoulder.
Vic stilled, sighed, then took Stevie fully into her arms.
Tash and Laura were still going.
Vic thought about banging on the wall in a comedy 1980s farce fashion, but shook her head at the notion and smiled sadly, wondering when she’d become such a curmudgeon. Then she remembered she could pinpoint the exact day.
Stevie rolled back slightly and looked up at her wife, looked like she was going to say something.
Vic could see the words spinning round her brain, coating her vocal chords, ready to spring. She hoped she was giving Stevie an open expression, one which would let her know that whatever it was she wanted to say or do, she could tell her.
Stevie’s eyes flickered and her cheek twitched, but then her features clouded over with sadness and the distance returned, so familiar it’d almost become a third member of their relationship. Stevie searched Vic’s eyes and couldn’t locate what she’d been looking for, so she simply gave her a peck on the cheek instead.
“You’d think they’d build some proper fucking walls, wouldn’t you?” Vic said quietly.
In response, Stevie got out of bed.
Vic’s eyes widened.
“Earplugs,” Stevie said, bending down to rummage in her case. Stevie settled back into bed, kissed Vic goodnight and turned onto her side, her back to her wife.
Vic felt Stevie still, felt her breathing steady. Vic lay in the semi-darkness as the stillness enveloped her, not hearing anything apart from her heartbeat thumping in her ears, keeping pace with a kick drum.
When they’d tied the knot three years ago she never thought they’d end up as one of those couples with an invisible line between them, but that’s exactly where they were. In the next room she heard giggling and low murmurs. Vic knew just how that felt. It was what she wanted back so desperately.
Maybe tomorrow? Vic turned to gulp some water. Tomorrow would be different.
She rolled onto her side, trying to still her mind and her emotions. It didn’t work. Her emotions would not be stilled. Instead, they jangled like a rail of empty wire coat hangers.
After Hours
“Is there any more wine left?” Stu got up from the sofa to a cacophony of crackling, which caused Geri to peer up at him.
“Was that your knees?”
“Fraid so.” Stu ran his hand over his shaved head. “Blame Darren. Ever since he got me down the gym they’ve never been the same. Don’t believe the hype on exercise – it’s actually one big con. I’ve never been such a wreck as I am now. Should have stuck to eating pies.”
“You do still eat pies, just not when Darren’s watching,” Geri laughed. “You need to get some WD40 on your knees,” she added as Stu left the room. Geri stretched out her legs and yawned, knitting her fingers together in front of her face, palms facing out.
“You still running?” Kat asked from the other sofa. She had stains on her lips and teeth from the red wine, her cheeks Merlot splotched. Her focus had also narrowed somewhat, although she seemed to be doing her best to focus by alternately squinting one eye, then the other. Abby was asleep next to her, her bouncy hair bunching up on the side of the stone-coloured faux suede sofa.
Kat went to drink more wine from her glass, but it was empty. She frowned.
“Stu just went to get some more,” Geri told her.
Kat smiled. “So are you?”
“What?”
“Still running?”
“Course – got to for the job. This ain’t LA, we can’t sit around eating doughnuts in the West End, it’s not the done thing.” Geri rearranged herself on the couch as Stu returned brandishing three bottles of Stella.
“All we got left I’m afraid, girls.” Stu handed one to Geri, one to Kat.
Kat took a deep gulp and polished off nearly a third of the bottle in one go.
“What about you? You must be doing something, you’ve lost a bunch of weight.”
Kat shook her head, opened her mouth but then clearly thought better of it. “Not running – just cutting down on the drinking, going to the gym, eating better. I’ve got a lot more time on my hands these days so...” As she said the last bit, Kat took another swig of her beer, leaving the bottle nearly empty. She winked at her friends on the opposite sofa.
“That’s Helga’s doing, right?” Stu said.
Kat frowned. “Helga?” She looked puzzled.
“Your PA?”
It took a couple of seconds for the penny to drop, then Kat laughed. “Oh yeah… absolute godsend.”
“Well, I’d rather run than cut down on drinking. Does that say something about me?” Geri said.
“That you like beer?” Kat drained her bottle as she got up off the sofa with a sudden spring in her step. “I’m going to get some more,” she told them.
They heard her clatter into the kitchen doorframe with some empties, followed by a distinct “Fuck!”
This woke up Abby who squinted at Geri and Stu, then sat upright, yawning and looking around for Kat.
Geri nodded towards the kitchen. “She’s gone to get more beer.”
Abby checked her watch and frowned. “Fucking hell.” She gave Geri and Stu a look, before hauling herself to the kitchen, fishing out her iPhone from her pocket as she went.
“D’you feel like you’ve just been told off by the headmistress?” Stu asked.
Geri didn’t answer. Instead, there were raised voices in the kitchen, the clanking of bottles, voices quietened, mumbling.
A few minutes later Kat appeared in the doorway.
“Abby says it’s gone 1am and we should go to bed. She’s probably right so I’m taking my leave. Night you two.” She gave them a little wave and they heard her follow Abby up to bed.
“Bloody hell, pussy-whipped or what?” Geri said.
Stu smiled and stroked his goatee. “I don’t think it’s such a bad thing where Kat’s concerned – Abby’s nothing short of a miracle-worker. I mean, she was still standing at 1am, still conscious and she hasn’t hit on any of us.”
“Yet.”
The pair pondered their friend’s apparent new leaf, listening to the waves outside the house as they did. The wind had picked up and the sea was stormy tonight, making them glad they were high above it.
“I take it Kelly’s out of the picture completely now?” Stu’s question brought Geri back to the present.
She nodded slowly, resting her beer in her lap. “Yeah – never going to work was it? Still, she was gorgeous while she lasted.”
“Perhaps you could try going for someone your own age next time?” It was more of a statement than a question.
“That’s what Tash and Laura said, too.” Geri rolled her shoulders. “It’s easier said than done though, isn’t it? I mean, I’m 39 now, I’m damaged goods.” She sucked on her bottom lip when she said this, studying her fingernails. They needed a trim.
“You’re in the reduced pile?” Stu said. “God I hope not, I’m only a year and a half behind you. And I have the added bonus of HIV.”
“Yes but you have a boyfriend, remember?”
“Well, yes,” Stu replied, looking less than impressed with his lot.
Geri batted his comment away with her hand. “Oh Darren’s Darren. You know how he is – he hasn’t changed. He’s always been a bit flighty. I think maybe you’ve changed is more to the point. Have you tried talking to him?”
Stu shrugged like he didn’t care.
&nb
sp; Geri wasn’t buying it. “Talk to him. He loves you. He wants to be with you. So you like different things sometimes – that’s good! You don’t want to turn into Ken and Ken, do you?”
Stu shot her his best look of derision, at which Geri laughed.
“Talking of HIV, how are your counts doing?”
Stu looked nonplussed. “Fine. I mean, I take my pills every morning, I try not to catch a cold and my body is the same as ever. I don’t feel like a weapon of mass destruction. Even my mum doesn’t worry I’m going to die anymore, so things must have turned a corner, mustn’t they?”
SATURDAY
Kat let her hand flop out of the covers and trailed it through thin air, rippling imaginary water. Next to her, Abby was flat on her back. She was breathing so loudly, it sounded like a recording of breathing, like there was no way it could be real, but it was. Asleep, she looked angelic, almost too perfect for words, her dark skin smooth and soft, her hair splayed artfully across the white pillow.
Kat frowned as she tried to bring to mind the complete memory of last night but she had a nagging feeling there was something she’d missed. Abby hadn’t been amused when she’d tried to get more beer at 1am, but she shrugged internally, writing that one off to holiday excitement. She hadn’t drunk a drop on the first night, after all.
Kat sighed the sigh of a woman who felt trapped – by what she didn’t do as well as what she did. She was grateful in some ways to Abby for coming into her life, but she seemed to have turned up at just the moment that Kat’s world had imploded.
Kat lifted the covers and got out of bed, tousling her short dark hair as she did. She tiptoed across the room as wince-inducing pain shot through her skull, opened the en-suite door and closed it in the manner of a cartoon burglar.
This morning her brain was a toxic tangle of emotions that she didn’t really want to think about, and she didn’t want a Friday night analysis session, either. Abby would want to try to untangle the emotions, tidy up the mess, whereas Kat could happily carry on and simply walk around it, pretending it wasn’t there. It was a skill she’d been born with.
This morning, what she most wanted was to pee, get in the shower and let the hot jets wash away her ills, followed by a coffee. Then and only then could she usher the rest of the day into her grey hangover fug, slap on a smile and start all over again. Life was monotonous like that.
***
As the bathroom door closed, Abby opened her left eye and imagined Kat on the other side, sat on the loo and massaging her temples – typical Kat morning-after pose. She knew she’d been right when she’d told Kat to bail on this weekend – her girlfriend simply didn’t have the tools to deal with it right now.
Abby smiled ruefully as she thought about the night they’d met at a networking event for lesbian professionals – really just an excuse to get a group of hot, powerful gay women into one room to drink cocktails and check each other out. Still, it worked for her and the hundred or so other women there.
Abby had spotted Kat about midway through the evening, leaning against the marble bar and checking out the talent. She’d been wearing black trousers with ruby red brogues, a smart shirt and a well-cut black jacket, which on closer inspection turned out to be Ralph Lauren. She’d also been adopting the well-worn lesbian stance of one hand in pocket, one eyebrow raised, exuding an air of nonchalance to all around her.
Abby hadn’t been fooled.
Kat’s short dark hair was longer at the front and kept falling into her eyes – she spent an inordinate amount of time pushing it back off her face. Their eyes had met across a crowded room in the manner of a million Hollywood movies, only this was on a wet Wednesday in the City.
In a matter of moments Abby had gravitated towards Kat’s side, introduced herself and bought Kat a second vodka martini – Abby favoured bubbles. They’d chatted all night and Kat had impressed Abby with her sense of humour, her pert rear and her confidence. She was clearly a woman used to these surroundings and supremely at home within them.
That was then.
Six months later and here they were, with Kat having lost interest in most things, including food, sex and life. The only thing she seemed to maintain a passion for was drinking.
Abby heard the toilet flush and closed both eyes, pretending to be asleep. She wasn’t sure why. Abby pictured Kat staring at her reflection in the mirror, sticking out her tongue to gauge her health. The door to the bathroom opened and Kat got back into the bed as silently as she could manage. Abby responded by rolling over and gathering up her girlfriend, feeling her bones through her grey pyjama top.
“Sorry, did I wake you?” Kat whispered, not turning around to look at Abby.
Her girlfriend kissed the back of her neck. “Probably time I was awake anyhow.” Abby’s voice was croaky, not lubricated sufficiently yet. “How you feeling?”
Kat arched her back and stretched.
Abby could sense her turning over the question in her mind, trying to work out what answer to offer up.
“Bit of a headache but okay,” was the outcome. “My tongue looks a bit manky, though.”
Abby smiled, despite herself.
“What you smiling about?” Kat asked, rolling over to view her lover’s grin.
“How’d you know I was smiling?” Abby’s smile widened.
“I just know.” Kat narrowed her eyes.
Abby leant forward and kissed Kat once, twice, three times. Kat’s skin was hot beneath her and Abby’s blood rushed down her body to her very core. She ignored it, knowing it would go nowhere today.
Surprisingly, Kat ran a hand absentmindedly up and down Abby’s side, caressing her body lightly.
“So.” Abby sensed Kat was in a relaxed, receptive mood. “Are we going to talk about It?”
Kat looked her directly in the eye – she could hear the capital letter at the start of the last word.
“It?” Kat was stalling for time and they both knew it.
Abby curled her lip. “You know damn well.”
Kat lowered her gaze and sighed. “I know,” she said quietly. “I’ll tell them today.”
“But why didn’t you just do it last night?”
The question hung in the air.
Kat waited for the thud as it landed but it never happened. There was only silence and the sound of their breathing.
Abby went for the slam dunk. “You had the perfect opportunity and you just took the funny joke. I don’t get it. You were made redundant, it’s not something shameful. You weren’t caught fucking the office intern like some people I could mention.”
“I know, I know.”
Abby threw her head back on the pillow in exasperation and stared at the ceiling. “I know this is difficult, but you have to at least tell them you’re unemployed. Then you can lead on to the fact you’re not feeling that great. But you have to tell them the first bit to begin with.”
Kat’s face had turned the colour of concrete.
Abby took her hand and kissed it. She then kissed the top of Kat’s head and felt her draw in breath, then her body shook slightly and she knew the tears had arrived, the ones that arrived most days now. Abby hugged Kat towards her and kissed her head again.
“This will get better, but you have to want it to,” Abby said as she stroked her girlfriend’s back. “And you might want to can the tears unless you want to go down to breakfast looking like you’ve just gone six rounds with me. For one thing, your mates might beat me up…”
Kat made a sound like a wounded animal underneath her, then shifted her body away. She lay still on her back and stared upwards before rubbing both eyes with balled fists.
“I know you’re right and I will tell them today,” she whispered, peeking out from under her knuckles. “Promise.”
Abby smiled her winning smile. “Good enough. Now go and freshen up and don’t forget to take your pills.”
Stevie
Stevie opened her eyes just after 9
am. She’d managed just five hours of unbroken sleep. Not even the wine had been enough to knock her out – she bet Kat hadn’t had any issues after the amount she’d drunk. Stevie knew they all worried about Kat, but maybe she had it right and they all had it wrong. Maybe the world was just that bit easier to deal with if you were sedated enough.
Beside her, Vic slept on. Stevie knew change had to come. She’d truly willed it yesterday, but she’d been waiting for it to come naturally – and the Tash and Laura sideshow hadn’t helped.
Stevie realised now that just waiting for something to change was wishful thinking. She was living in real life, not some marshmallow land where fairytales came true. If Stevie wanted this one to have a happy ending, she knew she had to make the first step. After all, the power was with her and had been ever since Vic threw such a curveball into their lives.
Stevie winced again as she thought about it – time was dulling the hurt and betrayal, as was Vic’s relentless congeniality. But what never seemed to change was the utter futility of her actions. A college intern and as Vic was just approaching 40? Vic had sleepwalked into being such a cliché it made Stevie gasp at times. But something had to give in order for sanity to prevail and Stevie knew she held the trump card. Plus, Vic’s constant graciousness and apologetic gestures were frankly getting on her tits.
Stevie decided on a run to shake herself into the right frame of mind for the day. She eased herself out of the bed, being careful not to wake Vic, and pulled her running gear from the case. Then she slipped quietly down to the kitchen which was still home to the debris from the night before, the port glasses and cheese plates perched on the counter top. Vic and Kat had been putting the world to rights last night over some Stilton and Tawny port, leaving no subject unturned.
After a glass of water, Stevie headed back out into the hallway where their coat collection was hanging like a still-life painting, shoes neatly lined up underneath along the skirting board. She pulled on her trainers, clicked the front door shut and strode up the drive, turning towards the sea, glistening and infinite.