Lost In The Starlight

by Kiki Archer

  “Sofia and I have a day trip planned. I’ll cast my eye over it too.”

  Honey gasped. “Why not have Meg read it aloud in front of the girls when I’m getting done up? I know! Let’s ask Liza and Svetty Slick-A-Lik, or whoever the hell that woman was, to join the crowd too!”

  “Sarcasm doesn’t suit you, darling.” Diana paused. “But that’s not a bad idea.”

  Honey looked stormy. “It’s my story and I’ll have the final say.”

  Meg bowed her head. “So I’d better make it good.”

  “Oh, I’m sorry.” Honey was by her side to escort her from the room. “I’m sure I’ll love whatever you write, and thank you so much for today; I’ve had the most magic of times. I only hope tomorrow’s day in the life of Honey Diamond can live up to the hype.”

  “Off you go then,” said Diana, crowding them both at the door.

  “Mother, please!”

  Diana watched with interest. What on earth was her daughter’s fascination with this woman? She was gazing with warmth, with longing, oh good god that looked like desire. Spinning on her heels, Diana marched back to the lounge. “Miss Rutherton, I’ll see you tomorrow.”

  “She likes you,” said Honey with a whisper.

  “Don’t count on it,” came the matriarch’s parting shot.

  ****

  Meg got back into her car dejected, once again leaving The Alderley with an awful feeling of torment. The same feeling she’d had after the interview, after the meal and now after the most perfect of days. Could Diana be trusted? Should she be trusted? Meg sighed. She shouldn’t even be entertaining this ridiculous plan, but what choice did she have? Diana was right. The lesbian label wasn’t necessary, but she already knew this; it had become apparent last night as the words flowed from her fingers the minute she’d pulled the plug on her site. Her writer’s block lifting the instant she removed her past sins. She’d been able to sit there at her desk writing words that were true to Honey’s story without categorising her in a manner that would precede every further mention of her name. Lesbian singer, Honey. Gay girl gets gig. The papers would do this. Everyone in the industry knew they’d do this. She’d wanted to save Honey. So she’d written the article her way, the same way Diana had just so forcefully demanded, but now it would look like she was doing it to save her own skin.

  Putting her car into gear, she pulled out of the drive. Could she tell Honey? If she did, she’d be telling two tales on her mother. The first that she knew her daughter was dating the sadistic sleaze, as she’d put it, from SlebSecrets, and the second that she’d deemed it more important to abuse this knowledge with manipulation than have her daughter in the know. Meg shook her head. She couldn’t come between mother and daughter.

  Passing under the security barrier and through the gates, she tried to smile at old Sal. This was all going too fast. Maybe this was a good thing. Maybe this took the dilemma out of her hands. Maybe she could finally be herself without constantly worrying the truth would come out. Diana had been the unknown. The ticking time bomb. But she was keeping quiet and she certainly looked like a woman of her word. She wouldn’t want Honey knowing she’d used a situation to advance the march of her ridiculous Diamond dynasty brand at the cost of her daughter’s integrity, would she? Because that’s what it was: Honey’s integrity. She deserved to know the truth.

  Pressing down on the accelerator, Meg let the analytical part of her brain kick in. Utilitarianism. When in doubt, question what’s for the greater good. Tell Honey about her past and she, Meg, would suffer. Diana would suffer too. Tell Honey about Diana’s demands and Honey would suffer, and so again would Diana. Stay quiet and everyone’s happy.

  Stopping at a red light she suddenly remembered. Sofia.

  ****

  Sofia had waited until they had the house at The Alderley to themselves before settling down next to her goddaughter on the sofa. This was a delicate line and she’d have to tread carefully. There had been many times before where she’d kept secrets between the two women: Diana her dear friend and Honey the daughter she’d always dreamt of. It was difficult not treading on Diana’s toes and her loyalties were often hard to get right. She never wanted to come between the two women, but in her eyes Honey’s happiness always had to take priority. If Honey wasn’t aware of Diana’s meddling and it had no real impact on her personal world, then she could let it go, but this was different, this was Honey’s personal world.

  “So,” she said, “Meg.”

  The voice was gushing. “Isn’t she just wonderful? Who’d have thought to take me to Ikea? Have you been? We must go. There’s everything, absolutely everything you could possibly want and need to kit out the whole house.”

  Sofia laughed. “You sound more enamoured by Ikea than the journalist.”

  “Oh, she’s much more than a journalist; she’s my one.”

  “What?” The frown was deeply furrowed. “How can you say that, dear, after only one date?”

  “Love at first sight. I believe.”

  “You’ve always wanted to believe, dear.”

  “If it was a simple want then it would have happened before. I see so many beautiful people in my line of work. I’ve…” the cheeks reddened slightly, “I’ve had so many come-ons from people wanting to use me to further themselves, or from fans thinking we’re destined to find love with each other. I could easily have found love if that’s what I was looking for, but I wasn’t, it’s just happened.”

  “What’s happened, dear?”

  “I’m falling.”

  “In love?”

  “I’m falling in lust, in desire, in emotional connection, in intellectual connection and yes maybe in love. It happens, Sofia. I opened the door and I saw her, and she saw me, and neither of us have stopped looking ever since.”

  “Ever since yesterday?”

  “Oh Sofia, you’re mocking me.”

  “No, dear, I’m not. I’m sorry. You carry on.”

  “It’s just that feeling of knowing. Knowing you want to be in their presence. Knowing you want to interact with them. To understand them. To complete them.”

  “And if you get to know her and don’t like what you find?”

  “Then I guess it runs its course.” The eyes were wide. “But I don’t think it will. People connect, Sofia, in many different ways, but sometimes, just sometimes, you find someone who sparks your soul. Someone who makes you want to live life by their side.”

  “Well dear,” the words were honest, “if you think Meg’s that person then you hold on with everything you’ve got.”

  Honey’s arms reached out and wrapped themselves around the narrow shoulders. “Oh Sofia, I love you so much.”

  “And I love you, dear.” She paused. “Just make sure this Meg loves you too.”

  “That’s just it, it’s like I’m the huntress, I’m the one pursuing her and the fact she’s unsure makes me see her truth; this isn’t about who she thinks she can become by being with me. I think she’s scared, but maybe because she knows it could be something really special.”

  “Maybe.”

  “I like her, Sofia. She makes me happy and she makes me smile. I want to see where this goes.”

  Sofia nodded. That was all she needed to hear. “You have fun then, dear. You deserve some light in your life.”

  Chapter Twenty

  Standing once again in Honey Diamond’s kitchen, this time in front of a crowd of people, Meg read aloud the article she’d poured her heart and soul into, knowing her words would be judged and dissected, yet confident she’d done the right thing regardless of any response. Honey had so desperately wanted to address the rumours about her sexuality, to show she wasn’t hiding, but a direct labelling wasn’t needed. Meg realised if she’d been honest with herself when writing those ridiculous posts for SlebSecrets it was simply her own vested interest that had been so determined to force Honey out. She’d wanted her own personal romanticising to have legs, to have potential, the first step knowing for sure t
hat Honey was gay. Well she was, but that shouldn’t be the screaming headline in this piece.

  Diana, although going about it the wrong way, had been right; it simply wasn’t necessary. But she herself had come to that same conclusion before yesterday’s raging ultimatum. This is how she’d written the article the previous evening. These were her words. Not Diana’s. All the community needed was visibility. Like Cara Delevingne pictured with her girlfriend, St Vincent. No lesbian labels were announcing their love. Likewise Kristen Stewart, dating women to see where things went.

  Meg continued to read. She’d phrased the article in a manner that answered the questions without labelling the terms. There was no omission or denial, but likewise there was no declaration or affirmation. It was a well-written piece about Honey Diamond’s personal life, a glimpse into her world; mostly work related, yes, but touching occasionally on that private desire to find love. Meg paused, holding everyone’s attention before the final line. “Honey’s the heroine of her story, and the magic of love’s hers to find.”

  The kitchen filled with “ahhhhs” and the clapping built quickly once it became obvious the reading was over.

  “It’s clear what I’m saying, isn’t it?” asked Honey. “Even though I haven’t directly been labelled?”

  “Absolutely!” said Diana, heartily applauding. “And you’re not a piece of produce anyway!”

  Gerty nodded. “No sensationalised slogans.”

  “Girl crushes are fashionable,” added Dot.

  Liza continued the support. “And men are such a let-down these days. The public will understand you romanticising the fairer sex. Hurrah, Meg, what a well written piece.”

  “Sofia, what do you think?” Honey was still frowning.

  “It’s lovely. It’s sensitive, and it gives the reader that insight while keeping you at the safe distance a Diamond should be kept.”

  “Maybe I wanted to be a woman of the people.”

  “And join social media?” scoffed Diana, “and be called upon for even more interviews, charity patronages, discussion panels, quotes on anything even remotely related to sexuality?” She nodded. “Your song spoke the truth. This article speaks the truth. It doesn’t matter who you’re attracted to and you can go have your picture taken with this one for all I care.” She slapped Meg on the back. “Like Dot said, it’s all rather fashionable right now.” She smiled. “But at least the headline won’t label your love.”

  Svetty Sokolova, who’d been listening in a line at the breakfast bar with Liza, Heidi, Louisa and Caitlyn scrunched up her eyes. “Heff you never been driving the cars?”

  Honey turned to her guest. “Delayed and somewhat random, but that’s what you got from the piece?”

  The Russian woman continued. “And why you not be purchasing the new sofa?”

  “In my music room?” Ignoring the strange inquisition, she turned to Meg. “It’s really sweet how you used that. I like the idea of people picturing me writing lyrics on my childhood sofa.”

  “Fleas!” continued the voice. “Rats, pigeons, now you heff fleas if you not change of the sofa!”

  Liza took hold of the large lady’s arm. “Honey, I’ll be with you this evening. You can hold your own at the drama day today, can’t you?”

  “What?” said Honey with mock shock. “Where’s Liza? What have you done with her? You’re a different woman entirely!”

  “I told you,” nodded Diana. “My holistic therapist is worth every penny.”

  Honey frowned as the PA giggled her way from the room. “Does she charge by the hour?”

  “I don’t care. A happy Liza’s worth its weight in gold to us all.”

  “True!” said Caitlyn, encouraging Honey back to the stool in the centre of the room. “We’ve got a breather again and it’s beautiful!”

  “Let’s just make sure we stick to the schedule today, shall we?” added Heidi. “Tammara’s coming at ten.”

  “It’s ten,” said Louisa.

  Meg watched the clucking with a growing feeling of warmth. This was Honey’s life and she felt privileged to bear witness. Everyone was happy. She’d done the right thing. She’d emailed a copy over to her editor and was hoping the response would be as positive. The rumour mills were still dissecting every single line of Honey’s leaked song, but this article should offer answers. Yes, there had been no direct labelling, but that was the way most stars played it these days anyway. People could, and would, read between the lines.

  Meg spotted the encouraging eyes of Diana and smiled at the nod of congratulations, responding with a nod of her own. The eyes she didn’t notice were Sofia’s, watching her with careful, cautious discretion.

  ****

  Following Honey out of the house, Meg heard the ping of her phone. An email from her editor. She scanned quickly. It said the piece was great, exactly what The Beacon was famed for, with the real win being the story behind the story. She typed back quickly: The fairytale analogies? The response was instant. Yes. Honey’s world’s not real. Real relationship rules don’t apply. Puzzling at the comment, Meg looked up at her host, now hurrying towards the executive car in the driveway. But that’s what Honey wanted, wasn’t it? A real relationship. Could it ever work? Would it ever work? Meg had to admit that so far she’d only ever seen Honey in her relaxed, day-off mode. Maybe today would open her eyes. Maybe today would show her who this woman actually was.

  “Your chariot, my lady.” Honey had edged in front of a perplexed looking female chauffeur, stealing her role as she pulled open the door.

  Meg smiled. This woman was perfect. “Why thank you.”

  Honey hopped in after her. “No, thank you.”

  “What for?”

  “The piece.” The smile was wide. “You took a different direction to the one I was expecting, but it’s beautiful. It wasn’t shouty or crass, it was quietly unassuming, like you.”

  “Would you like the divider up?” asked the voice from the front.

  “Tam, this is Meg. Meg, Tam.” The face was cheeky. “And do you know what? I think yes, this time we would.”

  Smiling at the driver, Meg watched as the divider clicked into place, the smart glass tinting black, casting the back of the car into a soft, romantic light. That’s what it felt like to her anyway. Honey was probably used to the leather seats, dreamy atmosphere and the gentle music that started to play.

  “Too much?” asked Honey.

  “The music?” Meg could feel her heart rate rising. She was alone, in the back of a luxury car, with Honey Diamond, amorous lighting and Maria Carey’s number one hits, a better romantic fantasy than she’d ever previously created. “It’s perfect,” she said, ignoring the desire to pinch herself and check this was real.

  “This is it now. Your work’s all finished. You’re here as my friend.”

  “And I’m relaxed. For the first time, I honestly am.” Meg wasn’t lying. Yes, her heart rate was going nineteen to the dozen, but the feelings she’d had of impostership, of unworthiness? They’d ebbed slowly away. Meg stared at the woman next to her, privately addressing that one lingering doubt, that deep-seated guilt about running SlebSecrets. She inhaled. It was more than just her now: Diana was involved, and her site was a sin of the past. Everyone had those, didn’t they? Hidden from partners, hidden from people they were trying to impress. She stayed silent, letting herself fully accept where her train of thought had led her. She was trying to impress Honey. She wanted this woman to like her as much as she liked this woman herself. She wanted her. She wanted her so very much.

  “I feel it too,” said the voice.

  Meg leaned forward, lifting her lips to Honey’s.

  The kiss was one of perfection.

  Soft. Emotional. Honest.

  Chapter Twenty-One

  The loud rap on the glass divider pulled both women from their embrace. Meg was breathless, Honey was ruffled, and both parties were frantically blinking. Honey somehow managed to gather herself first. “We can’t be here already?�
� she said, squinting out at their surroundings, wondering how an hour of kissing could pass by so quickly. Catching sight of her reflection she gasped. “My hair!”

  “And your shirt,” added Meg, helping to straighten it.

  Honey smiled at the gesture, quickly realising that her guest was in need of some smoothing of her own. “You sort my hair, I’ll sort yours.”

  Both women lifted their hands to the other, gently taming the wayward locks with soft fingers brushing until coming to rest on warm cheeks, the look of desire back in their eyes, their grasps growing tighter as their lips drew together once more. Honey smiled into the kiss. Meg was open, receptive; more than that, she was leading. This woman, who’d shied away from all initial contact, was now leading. She was leading and pushing for more. Honey gathered her strength and pulled back. “We need to go in.”

  “Can’t we stay here?”

  Honey looked at the intense eyes. “I had yesterday off. I can’t do it again today. They’re relying on me.”

  “What is this again?”

  Honey read the eyes. This woman wasn’t interested in the drama day that was planned, or the idea of a Hollywood script. This woman was interested in her. She smiled. That was all she’d ever really wanted, someone to see her, not her life or her work, just her. “It’s a drama class.”

  “But you’ve acted for years.”

  “Yes, in the West End. I think the production company are worried I may be too jazz hands.”

  Meg laughed. “It’s a singing When Harry Met Sally though, isn’t it?”

  “Yes.” Honey paused. “Where did you hear that?”

  “I’m not sure. It’s getting lots of column inches, your first Hollywood role.”

  “Well today’s just a back to basics, build your confidence, improv drama session.”

  “I’ll enjoy watching it.”

  Honey shook her head. “Oh no.”

  “I have to wait outside?”