Lesbian Shorts

by Carla Blake

  The waves lapped at her feet in solemn warning, but she hardly noticed. Instead she listened. Listened to a voice that called to her and tugged at her soul.

  Staring out to sea, the water as black as ink, she allowed the sad melody to weave itself around her heart and a tear to slip down her cheek. It was followed by another and then another, until she was sobbing. Her chest heaving as she wiped moisture from her face, and left behind muddy streaks.

  The singing went on and she raised a hand to the water, trying to reach whoever was calling to her.

  “Roisin.” She sighed. “ Roisin.”

  But nobody answered her. Instead the waves hissed and the wind blew and then a figure appeared in the gloom. Standing in the water. Slowly, it raised a hand in greeting and Ronnie, unable to move, stared, as for a moment, for the briefest of moments, the moon peeked out from behind a cloud, and she saw, standing waist deep in the sea, Roisin.

  But she wasn’t crying or singing. She was smiling.

  And as Ronnie watched, Roisin turned her back and with a flick of her glistening, scale covered tail, disappeared beneath the waves.

  The Shed

  Lucy Greene stared at the garden and planted her hands firmly on her hips, and her hands, she thought, were probably the only thing she was likely to be planting in this garden for a while, because look at the state of it! Over grown, untidy and the lawn. What had that been cut with? Pinking shears? It was going to take months to sort this lot out.

  And how Chloe, her best mate of all of nine months, had effectively managed to persuade her to not only take on her wreck of a garden and turn into something bordering on sublime but to do it for ‘mate’s rates?’ was beyond her. It was ridiculous. It was beyond her. She wasn’t a gardener, well at least, not of the professional kind. She just happened to enjoy pottering about in her own patch of land whenever she had a spare moment, and thanks to trial and error and the odd gardening supplement in the Sunday papers, had managed to pick up a few handy tips over the years. She didn’t do anything special. And she certainly hadn’t done anything in her own back garden to make Chloe believe she could perform miracles.

  Except a miracle was clearly what Chloe was expecting. It was written all over her face as she wandered up the garden path carrying a mug of tea in each hand and wearing a hopeful smile on her face.

  “Hi.” She said, plonking the tea on a railway sleeper that served for a step before sweeping the garden with a hand. “ Well, what do you think? Will it live?”

  Chloe was twenty seven. Dark of hair and blue of eye, she’d been married to the tall, dark and frankly boring Graham for seven years, and thus far had shown no signs of extending the family beyond that. A state of affairs Lucy whole heartedly agreed with. Graham might be kind and loyal but he was as dull as ditch, and his kids, if they weren’t lucky enough to take after their mother, would undoubtedly grow up loving quantum physics and trips to the local museum of dry, old crap. If they were like Chloe though, they’d be okay. Chloe was vivacious and pretty and ready to have a go at most things, even if they did sometimes end in disaster. Learning to ski had been one such regrettable moment when, breaking her leg on the first day, she then chipped a tooth on the second when she forget she’d broken her leg and skipped out of bed in the morning to be greeted by a particularly challenging rug. Still, it hadn’t ruined her holiday and she’d spent the remainder in the bar, watching other silly buggers fall over and rating their tumbles against her own.

  There was no sing of a limp now though, and watching Chloe eye her garden and then look back at her, Lucy couldn’t help thinking how lovely she looked today, even if she was currently dressed in jeans and a T-shirt that might have had some sort of message on the front before it had gone through the washing machine a hundred times. Green wellies completed her outfit together with a pair of gardening gloves which were sticking out of her pocket.

  She cocked her head to one side as she waited for Lucy to answer.

  “ Well..” Lucy began, scratching her head and feeling even more scruffy than usual. Her jeans had holes in them at the knees, and her T shirt, although plain, was embellished with a grass stain that so far had stubbornly refused to buckle to any of the detergents that insisted they would shift it. And she knew her hair was a mess. It always was, unless she tackled it with straightners and gel and God knows what else. But it hadn’t seemed worth it for gardening. Now, looking at Chloe, she wished she had bothered.

  “I guess it’ll be okay.” She went on, “ or it will be after a few visits. There’s a lot that needs doing here Chloe. Why did you let it get so out of hand?”

  “I didn’t!” Chloe exclaimed, handing Lucy the mug without the chip in it. “Gardening is Graham’s job, not mine. I do housework and cooking, he does gardening.”

  “So?”

  “So, he’s a man! ‘It’ll still be there tomorrow’, that’s his mantra and I can’t force him to do it.”

  “ Right. So I get the job.”

  “You offered!” Chloe insisted. “Or have you changed your mind?”

  Lucy was considering it. She didn’t mind gardening, in fact, she looked forward to the times when she could root around in the earth planting vegetables and tending to her flowers, but neither of those required any brain power to get on with and she could let her mind drift away and think about other, nicer things whilst she was doing it. The fresh air didn’t hurt either, or the exercise, and any excuse to forget about work…

  But this wilderness. It would be like trying to tame the jungle.

  “So, have you?” Chloe prompted her. “ ‘Changed your mind I mean, cos if you have, it’s okay. I know it’s a huge job and I know I’m asking you to give up your precious weekends..”

  “I’ll do it.”

  “What?”

  “I said, I’ll do it.” Lucy smiled. “ But I want a biscuit with this tea and I want to have a look at your gardening tools and see what you’ve got before I bring any of my own. Sound reasonable to you?”

  “Perfectly.” Chloe smiled. “ Jammy dodger or digestive?”

  If gardening was a dream for some, this one was a nightmare for Lucy. The ground was hard and dusty, thanks to an unseasonable lack of rain, and Chloe had allowed her plants to grow so tall that cutting them back required a careful balancing act on a ladder plus such severe pruning Lucy was concerned she’d kill some of them off for good.

  Gritting her teeth didn’t help much either, for the moment she did some evil thorn would pierce her skin and her mouth would be open again in a silent scream as she kicked herself for the umpteenth time for saying yes. What had possessed her? Why?

  The answer was Chloe, who kept popping out of the house to tell her she was doing a great job and to congratulate her on reducing another of her overgrown specimens into something manageable and bordering on waist level.

  Lucy’s reply was to point to the pile of debris she’d already thrown into a corner and which currently stood high enough to attract the attention of amateur mountain climbers.

  “I take it you’ll be taking that lot to the dump?” Lucy said when Chloe again appeared with two glasses of wine and a bunch of grapes. “ There’s nothing in my contract about getting rid of all this stuff.”

  “There’s nothing in your contract about anything.” Chloe smiled. “ You don’t have one! But just for the record, Graham said he’ll take it down. No probs.”

  “Good, ‘cos believe me, after hacking my way through this little lot, I am not going to feel like going to the dump.”

  “I know and I appreciate it, I really do! Wine?”

  They drank it sitting on garden chairs Chloe pulled from the shed. The sun was out and sweeping her hair from the back of her moist neck, Lucy rolled the cool wine glass across her skin and sighed with pleasure. “ That’s better.” She smiled, closing her eyes and tilting her face to the sun
. “ I love this weather, but working in it can be a real pain.”

  “Have a rest then.” Chloe offered. “ I don’t mind if you do. You’ve done tons already, and if you’ve had enough..?”

  Lucy shook her head. “ No, it’s okay. I’ll keep going for another hour, if that’s okay, and see how I feel then. Thanks for the wine though and the grapes. Let’s hope I can still prune straight!”

  “I’m sure you’ll be fine.” Chloe smiled and gathering up the glasses, disappeared into the house.

  Lucy watched her go. I could really fancy that, she thought, seeing Chloe move to the sink in her kitchen and start rinsing out the glasses. But she doesn’t even know I’m gay. No one does and if I have my way, that’s just the way it’s gonna stay. I dread to think what would happen if that lot at work ever found out. Actually, I do know what would happen. They’d talk about me for months and my life would be a bloody misery. They might even sack me?

  Hell, Chloe might sack me if I don’t stop mucking about and get on with her flamin’ garden.

  The sun beat down. Lucy’s T-shirt stuck to her back, and inside her gloves, her hands felt gritty and sweaty and when she took them off to sweep the hair from her face, her fingernails were grimy with dirt.

  Lovely, she thought, sticking them back on again and reaching for a saw. How glamorous do I look?

  Sighing, she heaved herself back into the thick growth of bamboo - who had bloody bamboo growing in their garden? – and began to hack through the tangled plant.

  A sudden coolness on the side of her arm shocked her so much she nearly amputated her own hand and spinning round she was confronted by a grinning Chloe, armed with a garden mister in her hand and a mischievous expression on her face. Arching an eyebrow, she again sprayed Lucy’s arm.

  “Thought you might like cooling down?” She suggested, spraying the fine water at Lucy’s chest. “ You look hot.”

  So do you, thought Lucy, but she didn’t say it. “ Er, yeah, thanks.” Lucy said, holding out her arms for Chloe to spray. “ That’s really nice.”

  “Good. Want some on your face?”

  “Sure.”

  Chloe sprayed her face. “ How about the back of your neck?”

  Lucy duly turned round and lifted her hair, shivering when a fine mist of cool water drizzled down her spine. “ That tickles!” She giggled, “But don’t stop. It’s wonderful.”

  Another spray danced across her skin. Then she felt Chloe’s finger pull at the collar of her T-shirt and another cooling blast of water dappled her back. Another followed and as the water trickled down to the waistband of her jeans, Lucy turned and smiled her thanks at Chloe before tilting her chin so Chloe could spray her throat.

  “That is so good!” She exclaimed as Chloe carried on spraying her front. “ I might make you stand there all day if this is the treatment I get.”

  “No problem.” Chloe replied, aiming the spray directly at Lucy’s stomach. “ You look very sexy you know, all hot and damp.”

  Lucy’s heart thumped. “ You think?” She asked. “ I think I look a mess.”

  “No.” Chloe said, moving closer and spraying water just below Lucy’s breasts. “You look lovely.”

  She moved closer again. Her lips were now inches from Lucy’s own. “I think you look wonderful.” She moved even closer. “ In fact, I think I would..”

  “Girls!” Graham’s voice shuddered from the house. “ I’m putting the kettle on. Anyone want a cuppa?”

  Chloe jumped back as if she’d been stung. “Sure.” She yelled back, retreating from Lucy and heading for the path. “ We’re just coming.”

  You’re not kidding! Lucy blinked, certain that Chloe had been on the brink of kissing her and trying to work out how the hell that could have just happened? Chloe wasn’t gay, was she? She’d never shown any signs of it before and besides, she had Graham. Though if she had Graham, she’d sure as heck be looking for excitement elsewhere. But Chloe? She was so.. straight! So contained. So desperate for her to follow her into the house and pretend nothing had happened.

  The next weekend was thankfully cooler and rain had been forecast although Lucy wasn’t holding out much hope. Just as she wasn’t holding out much hope of Chloe ever giving her a reasonable explanation for last week’s near kiss, because all week she’d been avoiding her and on the one occasion Lucy had managed to corner her in the kitchen at work, Chloe had stammered and blushed her way through their conversation and managed to talk of everything else excepts gardens.

  Yet here she was. Back in the wilderness. With Chloe clattering about in her kitchen and the hired help –Lucy- about to do battle with a ton of ivy that had entirely covered the dividing fence and was now about to complete its invasion by covering much of the ground. It was a huge task and one Lucy wasn’t particularly looking forward to. But Chloe had promised dinner if she cleared this bit and she wasn’t about to turn down an opportunity to sit across the dining room table and watch her squirm some more.

  The thought made her smile. You are so bad, she thought, you shouldn’t want to put your mate through that? But why not? The least Chloe could have done was talk to her about last week, because she had been about to kiss her, she was sure. Her lips had been mere centimeters away! She’d felt her breath, hot on her cheek. She’d definitely been about to snog her face off, but they’re been nothing. Just a desperate effort to not be alone with her.

  And it wasn’t nice winding up a gay girl like that.

  The ivy was tough, but the day was cooler with a nice breeze and that made the going a little easier. Chloe came out once, armed with tea and biscuits and then disappeared back inside just as quick, stating she had a lot of cooking to do and that she was waiting for the oven to warm up.

  Lucy let her go, figuring there was no point in trying to force the issue right now. Whatever had passed between them last week, or whatever had been about to, was clearly not going to be repeated, worse luck, and she didn’t really want to bully Chloe into a confession, so the best she could do was try to forget it herself, before it ate her up entirely.

  She wished Chloe would eat her.

  The first spots of rain arrived an hour later. Unfortunately, Lucy was just beginning to make some headway with the ivy and reluctant to stop for just a few spots, carried on regardless, yanking out great handfuls of the stuff and feeling mighty pleased with her progress.

  Nor did she stop when the rain began to fall with more insistence and it was only when a bright flash of lightning momentarily streaked across the garden, followed by a deep rumble of thunder that vibrated inside her chest, that she finally paused, looked up at the sky and then squealed with surprise when the Heavens suddenly opened and soaked her. Then she ran. But not towards the house. Instead she ran for the garden shed, and yanking open the door, dashed inside and stood dripping in the musty but thankfully dry interior.

  Wiping moisture from her hair, Lucy looked around. The shed was big. And new. Lucy had some vague memory of Chloe telling her about its purchase but it wasn’t something she could pull easily to mind, and tossing the thought away, she gently closed the door to and peered at the gloomy contents.

  There was nothing she hadn’t been expecting. It was all here. The lawnmower- clearly non overly used - gardening tools. Flower pots and sacks of compost. A couple of bags of garden waste waiting to be dumped and a few pots of paint. A man’s bike leant against one wall – Graham went cycling? That was kinda risqué for him – and the usual bunch of spider webs hanging from the far corner. A folded sun lounger, its cushions crammed between the frame, rested against a work bench.

  There was nothing unusual to catch her eye and shivering, Lucy stared up at the roof and listened to the rain hammer on the felt like a drunk trying to get in at a party.

  Going to be here a while, she thought, gazing at the sun lounger and wondering if she had room
enough to unfold it? She hoped she did. The floor looked cold and she didn’t want to stand up for the next God knows how long.

  She had room. She also had a nice surprise once she’d maneuvered the sun lounger into a better position, because it was then that she discovered a metal box tucked away behind it with ‘emergency stores’ printed across the top. Lifting the lid was even better. Inside was stuffed with goodies. Chocolate, crisps. Cans of cola. Slices of pre packed fruit cake and even a half bottle of wine. There was, Lucy thought, a veritable feast going on in there, although it was difficult to decide whether it belonged to Chloe or Graham. The book she found crammed down the side didn’t help either. It was all about gardening which meant it could have belonged to either of them. Or neither of them.

  She sat on the lounger and listened to the thunder roll across the garden before stomping off into the distance to bother someone else. A dribble of rain appeared in one corner and dripped, dripped into a flower pot. The wind rattled the door and then decided it wasn’t worth the effort and left it closed. A spider, disturbed by the vibration, briefly examined its web for dinner before returning to the centre, disappointed.

  Lucy watched it settle and then peered into the box again. She was cold now and she searched for a blanket or at least a jumper, anything she could wrap around her shoulders and stop herself shivering. But there was nothing but food and wine and sighing, she picked up a bar of chocolate and wondered if Chloe would mind if she nicked it? She thought not, and besides, she could always replace it.