The Long Weekend

by Clare Lydon

  “Have you been applying for jobs?”

  Kat shook her head, her short dark hair not moving with the motion. “I just don’t feel up to it. I feel like… I don’t know really. Numb. My shrink said it’s not to do with just losing the job, that there must be some other part to it. She wants to go into my childhood but that shit’s never appealed to me. Too much to uncover.”

  “She might have a point, then.”

  “That’s what Abby said.”

  From not knowing Abby, Geri’s opinion of her was going up by the hour (if you discounted the phone addiction). It sounded to Geri like she’d had a gutful of Kat to cope with and she’d done so admirably.

  “Anyway, enough about me. I’ve been doing way too much talking lately,” Kat said, leaning down to retrieve her coffee from her feet. “Tell me more about you and women far too young to be your girlfriend.”

  Now it was Geri’s turn to shake her head. “You know, all you couples, I’m sure you’re living vicariously through me. I can’t promise to check their age before sleeping with the next lucky punter, either. I can’t help it if young women find me attractive – it’s just the way of the world.”

  “Do you flash your badge at them first or your cleavage?” Kat put one leg underneath her.

  “No need,” Geri said, framing her face with both hands. “With these chiselled good looks I’m onto a winner in the first place. Then the badge usually seals the deal. Unless they’re on the run.”

  “Or they see your hair all frizzy in the morning and run of their own accord.” Kat smiled as she sipped her coffee. She heard Abby shouting her name from upstairs, so put her cup on the side table and swung her feet onto the carpet.

  “That’s not until at least date four.” Geri paused. “Something I said?”

  Kat pointed towards the ceiling. “Abs just shouted me – better go and see what she wants.” Kat disappeared through the lounge door.

  Geri finished her coffee and stared out into the view, getting lost in thoughts of moving here and opening up her dairy fudge factory. How hard could it be?

  Her thoughts were interrupted a few minutes later by the doorbell – so much for enjoying some peace and quiet. She padded out to the hall and saw a short-haired figure through the wobbly glass on the other side that she recognised instantly. She opened the oak door to find Darren grinning back at her, Louis Vuitton bag in hand.

  Where Stu was tall, solid and bald, Darren was slightly shorter and bronzed. Geri would lay bets that any hair on his body he considered superfluous had been waxed off, as Darren was no stranger to pain in the name of beauty. He also had a thick head of brown hair which was styled to perfection, and today was clad in blue jeans, black scuffed boots, a black top and black leather jacket.

  In fact, Geri and Darren’s style was not so far off each other and they could often be found comparing notes on clothing and beauty products. Darren was often told he looked like the lead singer of an art-college band, which did nothing for his modesty.

  “Hello, trouble.” Geri hugged Darren on the doorstep.

  “And it’s lovely to see you too,” he said over her shoulder.

  “Just telling it like it is.” Geri stepped back as he put his bag down. “I’m pleased to see you and I’m sure Stu will be too once he’s forgiven you for turning up late.”

  She leant up, grabbed Darren’s right cheek between her thumb and index finger and gave him a squeeze. “How could he fail to love this face,” Geri said in a see-saw voice that made Darren slap her hand away.

  “Judging from his messages, fairly easily.” Darren looked around. “You home alone?”

  “Almost – Kat’s upstairs with Abby, but the rest are still out walking.”

  “Sounds like I timed it just right, then,” he said. “How did you get out of it?”

  Geri shrugged. “Kat, Abby and I slunk out to the local village pub and fuelled the local economy instead by lunching and shopping. There’s only so much walking a girl can take. Anyhow, enough chat – cup of tea and I’ll show you the house?” Geri took Darren by the hand and led him towards the kitchen. “Your hands are baby soft,” she added.

  “Gay hands, darling,” Darren said, doing jazz hands either side of his head. “In the fine print.” He paused. “And, excuse me, a cup of tea? You got anything stronger?”

  Geri opened the fridge door and pulled out a bottle of Peroni.

  Darren’s eyes widened as he shook his head in alarm. “Er, hello, have we met?” He gave her a quizzical look.

  “Oh yeah – I forgot for a moment. Been in a houseful of lesbians too long.”

  “I bet Stu’s forgotten, too.” Darren disappeared and Geri heard him rummaging in his bag, before reappearing a minute later with some Prosecco and a bottle of vodka. “I brought less carb-laden drinks for me but you go ahead, I know what your tribe’s like.” Darren walked over and put his swag in the fridge.

  Geri raised an eyebrow. She hoped they were going to see happy Darren later and not bitchy-queen Darren who had a tendency to piss off all those around him. She turned to see him grinning at her and holding up his right hand, currently clenched into a fist.

  “Guess what else I brought to the party, as well as my style, charm and charisma?” Darren looked terribly pleased with himself.

  “Tell me,” Geri said. She wasn’t one for guessing games.

  “You’re not even going to try to guess?” Darren pouted at her.

  “A wild guess,” Geri said, scratching her cheek. “But could it be cocaine?”

  Darren winked and opened his fist to reveal some neatly folded tiny paper packages.

  “Ta da!” he gestured camply, before putting the drugs back in his jacket pocket, hanging it on a dining chair and crossing the kitchen. Darren picked up the kettle and flipped open its lid.

  “Maybe I will kick off with a cup of tea first after all.” His voice was somewhat drowned out as the water hit the kettle.

  “Stevie is going to love you.” Geri bent over and grabbed two mugs from the dishwasher. “She was just saying yesterday morning that she hasn’t had drugs in ages and now here you are like a prince charming. It’s a fairytale ending.”

  “Fairytales are my speciality,” Darren said. “Wouldn’t have thought it was up Stevie’s alley, though. Kat, yes - but Stevie?”

  Geri waved her hand. “Oh, she won’t do any. We both decided we’d rather spend our money on pasta bowls.”

  Darren smiled. “I’m sure that makes sense on planet lesbian.” He swiftly turned his attention to doing some squats while the kettle boiled.

  Geri had seen such behaviour many times before so she didn’t even comment. As Darren often pointed out, in the battle for thighs of steel, there wasn’t a moment to waste.

  Once tea was made, Geri took him on a tour of the house which received the required oohs and aahs from the main room as well as from his bedroom, with its king-size bed and en-suite bathroom. Darren tested the bed and gave Geri a thumbs up.

  “It’ll get a good workout later,” he told her.

  Geri grimaced. “I’m sure it can’t wait.”

  The sound of the door slamming and raised voices alerted them to the fact the walkers had returned.

  Geri started towards the door, turning in the doorway. “You coming?” She was greeted by Darren’s arse as he bent over to get something from his bag.

  He turned to face her, smoothing his black top down over his flat, toned stomach as he did. “Can you send Stu up first?” Darren looked bashful. “I’d rather he was mad at me alone and not in front of everyone.”

  Geri nodded and pushed herself off the doorframe. She trotted towards the top of the stairs before taking them two at a time and nearly bowling over an advancing Stu in the process. She made a mental note to herself again to slow down.

  “Jesus!” Stu muttered when he recovered his balance. “Where’s the fucking fire?”

  “Sorry! Sorry!” Geri said again
, giving him a hug before recoiling. “Eugh, you’re all sweaty! But you’ll like me in a minute – go have a look in your room.”

  Stu narrowed his eyes and gave her a look. “Have you put bananas in my bed again?”

  “That was a one-time only special, never to be repeated. In contrast, I think you might like what’s in your bed this time…” Geri skipped past him before he could ask more questions.

  Stu took the stairs two at a time and padded along the carpeted hallway in his socked feet. When he reached his room, the door was open and Darren was lying on the bed with his top off, his hands clasped behind his head, his face cracked with a smile.

  “Took you long enough. I’ve been waiting all day,” Darren said, grinning.

  Saturday Night

  The group arrived at The Flowerpot at 6.30pm, Tash having rung ahead to book a table. They were all determined to enjoy their penultimate night together – Saturday night, the big night out.

  “So, is it too early for shots?” Darren’s voice boomed over the music in the pub – somebody working the jukebox was a fan of Elton John. “Who’s in?” he asked excitedly, fishing his wallet out of his pocket.

  Vic was the first disdaining voice, just as Kat’s hand shot up in the air.

  “How about we eat first? Let’s start off sedate and try not to get chucked out till at least after 9pm,” Vic said.

  Darren rolled his eyes only half-mockingly. “Okay, mum,” he said. “Food first. But I hope they serve salad in this part of the world as no chips are passing this gay’s lips.”

  “I’d forgotten what a delight you are to eat out with,” Geri told him, pursing her lips. “We’ll get you a salad, rabbit boy. But I’m going to waft my chips right under your nose.”

  “Waft away!” Darren blew on his fingernails. “My body is a temple.”

  “A temple of doom,” Stu added.

  Geri took the food order up to the bar where she encountered the cute barmaid from Thursday. Her cuteness was still intact: short dark hair, black polo shirt, tight-fitting jeans, sexy smile. Geri licked her lips and within a couple of minutes she’d discovered the bartender’s name was TJ, she was local, and that she had an endearing dimple and piercing brown eyes.

  Geri gave the order and added a drink on for TJ, who gave her a coy look in return. What were the chances of finding a lesbian barmaid in a tiny village in Devon? Geri was unsure, but her gaydar didn’t often fail. Geri gave TJ a wink as she left the bar and returned to the table with cutlery in hand.

  “Having a nice chat?” Kat said.

  “Yes, thanks.” Geri sat down on her dark wooden chair. “See what you reckon next time you’re at the bar, but I think Stevie might be right.”

  “Interesting.” Kat drummed her fingers on the table in an agitated manner.

  ***

  When it arrived, the food exceeded expectations, the burgers juicy, the fish fresh and herb-loaded. Wine arrived to accompany it – a chewy Malbec for the meat-eaters, a crisp Chablis to go with the fish.

  “Have you spoken to your kids today?” Stevie asked Tash midway through the meal, who nodded mutely while chewing a mouthful of food.

  “Yep, called them when we got in. They seemed happy enough – Simon had taken them shopping and bought them whatever they wanted to eat for the evening. I think the man’s actually learning, miracle of miracles.” Tash was wearing a green top that brought out the colour of her eyes and complemented her red hair perfectly.

  “I think it’s great to have kids,” Darren piped up.

  Stu, who had already finished his burger and chips, choked on his wine. “Something you want to tell me, dear?”

  Darren smiled at the waves his comment had caused. “I’m just saying – look around the table, who’s going to look after all of us when we’re old and grey? Our cats and dogs?”

  “We’re happy to pimp ours out if you like – our kids, not our cat. But they’ve got to look after us before they look after you.” Laura had finished her fish too and was watching Tash eat hers with hungry eyes.

  “I thought you were serious there for a minute,” Stu told Darren, looking flustered. He paused. “We have been thinking about this though – not the child-slavery bit – but the whole getting old and being gay. I mean, what happens to older gays? There’s got to be a market for gay retirement homes. Me and Darren are going to run one when we’re older.” He sat back in his seat then gestured round the group. “Discount rates for mates, obviously.”

  “Think about it,” Darren said, looking skywards as if looking at an invisible departure board, painting the picture with his hand. He was still eating his fish and salad but had rested his cutlery on his plate. “State of the art TVs, on-site gym, huge cinema, pool, swim-up bar, boys in tiny shorts…”

  “They already have that – it’s called Mykonos or Sitges.” Kat made a face.

  “Yeah, it sounds more like a holiday resort than an OAP home. Have you been to one lately?” Abby added.

  “Plus, I think we might want some things done differently. I’m all for the swim-up bar and the on-site gym and cinema, but I want my drinks served to me by scantily clad lovelies like a Carry On film,” Tash added, laughing.

  “Wow – you guys are certainly projecting your old age well. If my eyes are well enough to see these ladies and my hips agile enough to swim up to the bar, I’ll be happy,” Abby said.

  Nods of approval all round.

  “True,” Geri said. “But this is fantasy retirement. Plus, Stu’s paying for it so I’m 100% in.” She turned to Tash as she chewed her food, and swallowed before continuing. “Much as I love your kids, I’m not sure I can rely on them wholly. So it’s off to Stu’s nursing home we go.”

  “So where’s it going to be?” Vic asked, dipping one of her chips in ketchup and popping it in her mouth. She’d thought about going for something other than the burger but remembered how good it had tasted on Thursday and so abandoned that idea. Vic was a creature of habit.

  “We were thinking somewhere posh and by the river so we can go for waterside strolls with our bespoke ivory walking sticks. Greenwich maybe?” Darren said. “Or perhaps Highgate.”

  “That’s not near the river,” Geri pointed out.

  “…And it might be cheaper to widen your search to somewhere out of London. Cheaper, more space,” Tash said. The whole group were swept up in the idea now.

  “What about Southend?” Laura said in a moment of clarity. “Fuck the river – you can have the sea! Fish and chips, candyfloss and honeycomb in bags all year round.”

  “And a million Essex queens glinting in gold going up and down the pier on the little train. I love it!” Stu guzzled more wine as Darren raised an eyebrow beside him.

  “So let me get this straight…”

  “…Or not,” Geri quipped.

  “…Or not,” Darren smiled. “While everyone else is planning their retirement to Cornwall or a new life down under, we’re all getting hot under the collar about a nursing home in Southend?” He stretched the final word out like an elastic band, his gaze roaming around the table daring anyone to speak. Nobody did. Darren clapped his hands together.

  “People people people!” he grinned. “We can do better than that, can’t we?”

  “Not if my pension pot is anything to go by,” Kat said. “A room with a view might be the best I can hope for.”

  Stu and Geri exchanged glances.

  “I’m still gunning for Southend,” Stu added. “But no florals. Strict rule. And none of those terrible chairs with the wooden armrests that look like they were made for you to die in.”

  “Deal,” said Tash, scraping the last mouthful of sea bass onto her fork. “And who knows, if it’s in Southend, maybe we can employ my lovely daughters. Although don’t come running to me when they don’t show up for work on time.”

  With their retirement plans sorted, Stu focused his attention on Kat while the rest of the group chatted and finished th
eir food. She seemed fragile, on edge, as if anything could tip her over the edge. He leant over to Geri.

  “Did you speak to Kat today, by the way?”

  Geri nodded.

  “And?”

  Geri swallowed and leant in closer. “She lost her job three months ago and she’s on antidepressants.”

  Stu’s face dropped. “What the fuck?” he whispered. “Shit, no wonder she looks out of sorts. She okay?”

  Geri gave him a look. “What do you think?”

  Stu licked his lips and wondered what he could do for his friend. Suddenly it came to him.

  “Too early for shots now?” he asked, checking his watch. “Just after 8pm and we’ve eaten. Who’s in?”

  Kat’s face shone once more; Abby’s was the opposite.

  “Babe…” Abby began.

  Kat barely glanced at her. “Woo hoo, shots!” She paused. “Could do with another pint to chase it, too.”

  Stu dipped into the booze kitty, took the drinks orders and disappeared to the bar just as Geri’s favourite barmaid arrived to clear the plates.

  “Everything okay for you?” she directed to Geri, her broad local slur softening every syllable. In response, Geri turned on a smile that had its own crew, lighting and stage production – hell, it should have had its own show on the Reality channel. The object of its attention looked suitably dazzled.

  “More than okay – perfect. Compliments to the chef – and to the server, of course.” Geri cranked up her charm offensive, fixing her gaze on TJ and ignoring the amused glances around the table.

  From the wide smile on TJ’s face, it was working.

  “We’re ordering shots – you want to take a break and join us?” Geri continued.

  TJ let the offer roll across her brain but rejected it just as quickly. “No time right now.” She began stacking plates expertly on her toned forearm. “But ask me later and you might get a different answer.” TJ flicked her long lashes Geri’s way.

  Now it was Geri’s turn to be dazzled. “I may well just do that.”

  As TJ walked away, Laura nudged her old friend. “I may well just do that,” she mimicked, clutching her sides. “I’d forgotten the Gimpy charm offensive – top marks, mate, top marks.”