A Girl Called London

by Clare Lydon

  She couldn’t see Rachel clearly, but she could see she was nodding. “You do. For your sanity, and for your health. And because the sooner you do, the sooner you can open yourself up to the possibility of a real-life relationship. You know, with responsibilities, love and commitment.”

  Sophie shuddered: while it was what she wanted, it also scared the living daylights out of her. “Why would you say those words?”

  “Because they can be great,” Rachel replied, rolling her eyes. “And because, when you get deeper into a relationship, the sex can be mind-blowing.”

  “Now you’ve got my attention,” Sophie told her, sitting up with a smile. Rachel’s words were getting through to her this morning.

  “Talking of difficult women,” Sophie added, dropping her hands and put her glasses back on.

  “Were we?”

  “We are now,” Sophie said. “We might be having a new lesbian moving into floor 30 — she’s quite hot but she’s got the social skills of a gnat. She just barrelled into a woman in the station, and then nearly crushed me in the lift — and I had to draw the apology out of her. Manners are not high up on her list of daily objectives, and you know my pet peeve with manners and Londoners.”

  “Because Helen’s got loads of manners,” Rachel replied, almost choking on the words.

  “Helen’s not that bad,” Sophie said, knowing it was a lie even before it left her lips.

  Helen was a lazy, dirty scoundrel.

  A sexy, lazy, dirty scoundrel.

  Rachel didn’t even respond, she just spluttered, but luckily her mouth was tea-free.

  “Okay, okay, maybe she’s a little bad. But this woman — she was willing to trample over anyone in her way to get to where she was going. So we have a charmer moving into the building, FYI.”

  Sophie paused, remembering the woman pressed against her, almost the whole length of their bodies touching. Her hand on Sophie’s breast, then on her elbow, grazing Sophie’s hip as she stood and regained her balance. And most of all, her heated stare, her intriguing smile. Despite everything that was coming out of her mouth, Sophie already knew she wouldn’t say no to being trapped in that lift with her again.

  “I repeat, sounds like just your type,” Rachel said. “Your choice in women has always been terrible — that’s something you need to work on.” Rachel paused, glancing at her friend. “But at least you meet women, whereas with my unsocial chef hours, I never meet anyone. I’m destined to end up alone, surrounded by cats.” Rachel gave her a perfect pout, followed by a deep sigh.

  Sophie smiled at her, rubbing her arm. “What happened to your affirmations: ‘I am the greatest lover ever, I will find a drop-dead gorgeous woman any minute now’?”

  Rachel gave a gentle laugh. “They’re not bad, maybe I should change to those.”

  “You’ll be fine — your ideal woman is just around the corner. And you’re a chef, which means you have a secret weapon. Who doesn’t like a woman who can cook? Once they taste the food at your place, you’ll be fighting them off,” Sophie replied, squeezing her friend’s leg. “Anyway, I’ve got to go and have a shower, and then I’m going to bed. I didn’t get much sleep last night, if you know what I mean.”

  Rachel screwed up her face like she’d just eaten something particularly distasteful. “Spare me the gory details,” she replied. And then she reached over and sniffed Sophie. “And correct me if I’m wrong, but I can smell cigarettes on you. I thought you agreed you’d try to give up?”

  Sophie sank back into the sofa. “I did agree, and the key word in that sentence is try. I was absolutely trying to give up, but you can’t expect me not to have a smoke when (a) my lover chucks me out at stupid o’clock, and (b) I nearly get killed by a crazy woman on the way home. Everyone has their limits.”

  “Did anyone ever tell you you’re a drama queen?”

  Sophie grinned at her. “Never,” she replied.

  Chapter Six

  Tanya was standing with her hands in her pockets, staring out of her office window after a morning of back-to-back meetings. She jiggled her back one way, then the other, as she did whenever she’d been sitting for too long, and today certainly qualified.

  Buttery sunshine was sliding down the windows of her statuesque office block in Canary Wharf, where she worked as a member of the legal team of LogicOne Bank. Tanya was situated 22 floors up with views over the Thames and the O2, along with the bonus of spectacularly framed summer sunsets and winter downpours. She never got bored looking out of her office window.

  Tanya had been working there for a little over six months, and she was just about settling into her new role in Mergers & Acquisitions, which was a cosmic shift from her former life as a barrister.

  She’d been nervous about making the switch from court room to corporate office, but it’d turned out to be the best move. Being a barrister had lost its shine; she’d started resenting her clients and their pull on her time. She’d trained for the bar because the tradition appealed, and she wanted to prove she could do it: that a working class girl could make it in a man’s world. And she had. She’d worn the robes and eaten formal dinners in great banqueting halls — she’d done her time.

  However, the day-to-day reality of the job had proved humdrum, and after a while, Tanya had begun to wonder if this was what she wanted to do with the rest of her life: the ultimate answer had been no. The reality of being a barrister had proved far removed from her movie-inspired ideal. The job had sucked the thrill from her life, chewed up her evenings and weekends and left her depleted, with grey bags around her eyes, the light behind them dimmed.

  In this new job, the lights were beginning to be turned back on and her weekends were her own, which still left her slightly giddy. She’d even found time to join a gym and actually go — wonder of wonders.

  This morning had been particularly fruitful for the company merger she was working on, including a productive breakfast meeting with her boss, before chairing meetings with both the seller’s legal and compliance teams — and everything appeared to be progressing as scheduled. Her boss had been chuffed with the progress, which meant Tanya was, too.

  Her phone ringing interrupted her thoughts and she grabbed it from her desk. She checked the number that flashed up on the caller ID screen and smiled as she spoke into the receiver.

  "To what do I owe this honour?"

  Tanya’s best friend Alice chuckled down the line at her greeting. “Aren’t you meant to answer the phone with something like, ‘Tanya Grant, high-powered exec, fighting world superpowers daily, how can I help?’ That’s what they do in the Hollywood movies, at least.”

  Tanya grinned. “Last time I checked, I wasn’t engaged in mortal combat with many world superpowers. Excel spreadsheets and paper cuts, maybe, but not many superpowers.”

  “Hey, if you can master Excel, I’m sure you can conquer world superpowers. Or at least make them pivot and get all confused.”

  Tanya and Alice had been friends since university, with Alice being Tanya’s regular sounding board on matters of life and the heart. They didn’t see each other as regularly as Tanya would like, what with her work schedule and Alice’s recent acquisition of a boyfriend named Jake. She gushed about him on every phone call they had, and Tanya could tell she was smitten. She envied Alice that — she’d met someone who she loved and trusted completely, which is what Tanya was after. Although perhaps she should learn to love and trust herself first.

  Alice worked as the head of art and design for the local college, a job she loved and hated all at the same time. Her love for it was simple: she believed in the power of art, and she adored working with students and unlocking their potential — her eyes lit up whenever she spoke about it, which had often made Tanya envious. However, her hate was simple, too: the endless admin and the ongoing struggle with budget cuts that always seemed to hit the arts hardest.

  Tanya sympathised, even though she and Alice sat at opposite ends of the spectrum when it came to politics and care
ers. However, their friendship had remained strong despite their differences, because when it came down to it, they were still the same two girls who liked to meet, drink beer and gossip.

  “Anyway,” Alice continued. “This is a social call. I’m currently out shopping, just a stone’s throw from your building and wondered if you were free for lunch? I’ve already bought two pairs of trousers, one skirt and a shirt that’s slightly too small for me but was in the sale, so it’s still a bargain. I need someone to come and stop me buying anything else while I’m in this drugged-up shopping spree state.” She paused. “Are you that woman?”

  Tanya checked her watch. “I can meet you in half an hour? Give me some time to reply to a couple of emails first?”

  “Meet me at Carluccio’s at 12.45pm and don’t be late.”

  “12.45, I’ll be there. Try not to buy anything else in the half an hour till then.”

  “I can’t make any promises,” Alice replied, before hanging up.

  Tanya replaced her phone on its base and pulled down the cuffs of her baby blue shirt. Lunch with Alice was just what the doctor ordered — they hadn’t caught up in person in ages, not since she’d started seeing her personal trainer, Jake, five months ago.

  Tanya woke up her screen and started replying to her lengthy list of emails.

  Chapter Seven

  “Hello, gorgeous.” Alice got up from her chair and gave Tanya a hug. When she let her go, she held her at arm’s length. “You know, this new job really suits you. You look at least 20 per cent more attractive to me today. And I’m pretty firmly in the straight camp, as we know.”

  When Alice let her go, Tanya pulled out a chair and sat down, folding up her sunglasses and placing them on the table. “What do you mean, ‘pretty firmly in the straight camp’? Are you having an early midlife crisis I need to know about?”

  Alice peeked out from behind her large menu. “You know what I mean,” she replied. “Anyway, I was reading about being pansexual and thought maybe I might try that.”

  Tanya smirked at her friend. “Do you even know what it means?”

  “Something to do with Peter Pan?”

  Tanya let out a peel of laughter. She loved Alice for many reasons, but a key one was her unique view on the world. She was a voracious reader and super smart, but she preferred to underplay what she knew with humour. So Tanya was sure she knew full well what being pansexual actually entailed, but she was going for the Peter Pan angle for now.

  “Was it the green tights and jaunty hat that were the main appeal?”

  Alice gave her a grin. “That and the never having to grow up bit — green tights and not being an adult, what’s not to like?” She paused. “Have you eaten here before?”

  “Hasn’t everyone eaten at a Carluccio’s?”

  “Bit fancier than Pizza Express.”

  “It might look it, but it all tastes the same: Italian and tomato-ey.”

  “Perfect,” Alice said. “I’ll have the lasagne. I need to fill up with an afternoon of shopping ahead.”

  Tanya clicked her fingers together. “Of course, it’s the Easter holidays, isn’t it? I thought you might be playing hooky.”

  Alice smiled across the table. “I don’t play hooky — I’m a teacher, remember?”

  “Does that discount you?”

  “Absolutely — I’m the epitome of a moral, upstanding and responsible person.”

  “Right,” Tanya replied, chewing on a slice of focaccia the waitress had just delivered.

  They ordered their food and drinks from the short-haired woman who Tanya got definite vibes from, before settling down to more chat.

  “You could definitely have her, if you’re thinking of experimenting.” Tanya inclined her head towards the retreating waitress.

  “What?” Alice said.

  “The waitress — there were clear signs going on then. She wanted you.” Tanya raised an eyebrow at her friend.

  It wasn’t the first time this had happened, and Tanya knew it wouldn’t be the last. Tanya, after all, was the one who wore heels, skirts and longish hair; while Alice was rocking short hair, distressed jeans and a chequered shirt, topped off with a pair of DMs. As Tanya had told Alice many times, lesbian style and artistic style had a lot of crossover. Alice matched the dyke template perfectly — apart from the sleeping with women bit.

  Alice twisted in her seat to check out their waitress, but she turned back and shook her head. “Not my type,” she told Tanya. “Her arse was far too small — I’d get a complex. Which is why I much prefer dating men: bigger and hairier arses, no competition.”

  Tanya crinkled her nose. “And that’s exactly why I date women.” She took a sip of her fizzy water.

  “So anyway,” Alice said, clapping her hands together. “Tell me about this flat. I want to hear everything about it: how it felt, what it looked like, who would play it in a movie.”

  Tanya cocked her head. “It’s a flat, not a person.”

  “Flats have personalities, believe me. And they can be haunted, too. In fact, it’d be quite cool if it was haunted, wouldn’t it?”

  Tanya shook her head. “For you maybe, but not for me — I’d have to live there.”

  “Ghosts are just dead people, they’re nothing to be scared of.”

  “Are you feeling okay today?”

  “So anyway, the flat.”

  Tanya cast her mind back, remembering her Saturday morning in all its glory: the highs of seeing the flat, the lows of ending up on her arse. And then an image of Lift Woman popped into her head, all tussled hair and vexed, those piercing blue eyes glaring at her. Tanya would be happy for her to glare at her all day long — she was a sucker for a woman in an army jacket. However, she would rather Lift Woman wasn’t quite so mad at her in the first place.

  “It’s perfect — it’s got the open-plan living I wanted, two bedrooms, balcony, river views. And it’s high up, so I’m not overlooked.”

  “How high?”

  “30th floor.”

  “You better hope the lift never breaks down and you have to carry your shopping up all those stairs.”

  “I will start praying today.”

  “So you’re thinking you’re going to put in an offer?”

  “I already did. The estate agent thinks it’s a done deal, but I’m still waiting to hear for sure — the owner’s on some exotic holiday where there’s no reception.”

  Alice’s eyes widened to the size of moons, her mouth also dropping open in cartoon fashion.

  “What?” Tanya asked.

  “And you’ve only just told me this now!?”

  “I’ve been processing,” Tanya replied, grinning as her friend got up and gave her a hug, which she accepted readily.

  “But this is big news! You’ve been looking for a flat ever since you split from Meg, and that’s nearly two years ago. And now you look at one, casually put in an offer and don’t tell me?”

  When she put it like that. “Sorry.” Tanya said, looking Alice in the eye. “Hey, Alice — I put in an offer on a flat!”

  Alice raised an eyebrow. “You’re not an easy woman to love. God help the next one who tries,” she said as she sat down again. “You’ve got to open up to people and share, let people in. It’s been a nightmare pinning you down for a weekend, and don’t tell me your social calendar is full up, because I don’t believe it.” Alice gave her a look to back up her statement.

  “I’ve been flat-hunting, that takes time.” Tanya paused. “But that hunt is now over. Now I’ve just got to work on getting to know my new area and my new neighbours. Which might be easier with some than others.”

  Tanya sucked on the inside of her cheek, thinking about Lift Woman again. When she’d relaxed, Lift Woman had taken on a whole new persona, one Tanya wanted to get to know better. There was something about her that had made Tanya sit up and take notice — and right now, it was making her heart beat that little bit faster, warming her very insides.

  “Meaning?” Alice ask
ed.

  “Meaning I might have been a bit rude to one of them already, a woman about our age who tried to help me when I tripped coming out of the tube.” Tanya held up a hand. “And before you have a go at me, I know I was in the wrong and I will make amends when I move in. Let’s just say when it came to her, I was tripping up with my mouth as well as my feet.”

  “You fell over? Were you hurt?”

  “My pride was.”

  “And she offered to help?” Alice raised an eyebrow at Tanya.

  “She did.”

  “And let me guess, you turned her down.”

  Tanya looked away before replying. “I might have given her the wrong impression. And I did try to change it, but my mouth refused to comply with my brain.”

  “How many times have we gone through the fact that asking for help and accepting it doesn’t make you weak? Not asking for help and doing it all yourself is the stupid option. She was being nice and you were being an idiot.”

  “I know,” Tanya said: she’d heard this particular tune from Alice and other friends a few times before.

  “You say this every time — loosen up a little, Grant.”

  “You sound like my gran.”

  “Your gran is a wise woman,” Alice replied. “How’s she doing, by the way?”

  Tanya shook her head. “No change, still the same.” She felt her mood start to slide, but shook herself, dragging her mind back to Lift Woman.

  “Anyway, then I clattered into her in the lift, too. Can you believe she lives in the same block? So I might have to start again when it comes to me and her, make a better first impression the third time around.”

  “How, exactly, do you manage to clatter into someone in a lift?” Alice asked, cocking her head.

  Tanya blushed despite herself. “I was late for the viewing, so I was running and didn’t judge the distance very well.” She looked down, before looking back up at Alice. “I kinda landed on top of her, crushing her against the wall. I was mortified.”