by Anna Larner
“Wait.” Hastily misbuttoning her shirt and grabbing the blanket, Eve followed Moira out into the night. Nervously, Eve looked back at Loch View. It was dark and quiet.
“Eve, come on. It’s okay, it’s not far.”
“I’m not sure. I mean…” Eve was looking around, searching out the features of the landscape through the strange, otherworldly half-light. Eve felt Moira slip her hand into hers. Eve’s eyes fell to Moira’s bare shoulders. She felt the urgent rising impulse of desire. “Moira.” Eve leant into Moira, kissing her shoulder blade, her neck. Speaking through her kisses, she whispered, “We could just go to your bed.”
“I want to show you somewhere special. It’s just through the trees.” Lightly holding Eve’s hand in hers, Moira led Eve out of a gate at the bottom of the garden.
As they emerged through a small gathering of trees, there, deep and powerful, the loch spread itself wide in front of Eve, full and potent in the moonlight.
“Wow.” Eve held her palm against her chest.
The air was heavy and rich with the scent of pine and gorse. Moira unrolled the blanket, nodding for Eve to sit with her. Eve sat silently, staring out into the night. The dark shape of the mountains, endlessly repeated into the distance, framed the loch and nearby hills. The lights of the hamlets across the loch could be seen blinking back at them, like stars in their personal universe.
Eve turned to Moira, who looked radiant, beautiful. Eve simply couldn’t stop looking at her.
The moon shone in Moira’s eyes as she looked back at Eve. “My heart feels so full.” Moira’s words, like her heart, seemed swollen with feeling.
Eve wanted more than anything to make love to Moira again, to bring her pleasure again. This was her purpose. If Eve Eddison was certain of anything, she was certain of that. At that moment she was fulfilling her destiny, her fate.
“Lie back, Eve,” Moira said softly. “Lie back.”
Eve swallowed hard. She could see in Moira’s intense, almost feral gaze that she wanted to make love to her. This isn’t quite what I had in mind. Eve glanced around her.
Moira reassured, “It’s private, I promise. We can’t be seen.”
Eve could feel her heart pounding.
Looking down, with an intake of breath, Moira let the throw slip off her shoulders, her pale skin illuminated in the half-light.
Eve looked at Moira’s naked torso. She felt her body stir in response. She leant in to kiss Moira’s neck once more, just under her chin, where her collarbones met.
“Trust me, Eve, you can trust me,” Moira whispered, guiding Eve back to lie on the blanket.
Eve could feel the weight of Moira, the soft flesh of her breasts against her half-buttoned shirt. Eve tried hopelessly to control the rush of sensation, which was taking her breath and leaving her weak.
Moira undid Eve’s shirt, revealing Eve’s breasts, which she caressed hungrily.
“Wait.” Eve gently held Moira’s face in front of her. She felt a toxic mixture of panic and desire. “Sorry. I did warn you that I’m not very good at letting go. The feelings you make me feel—they’re overwhelming.”
Moira nodded.
“But I want you so much, Moira.” Eve reached up and, lifting herself upright, slipped her arms around Moira’s back in order to feel Moira’s naked body against her. “I want you to, really I do.”
Eve released her hold and lay down.
“I won’t let anything happen to you—you’re safe, Eve, you’re safe.” Like a warm breeze on a cold day, Moira’s words soothed and eased in the night air.
Eve nestled her hands into Moira’s hair as Moira leant over her once more, much more softly this time, kissing Eve’s chest, torso, and navel. Trusting Moira, Eve lifted her hips and Moira gently eased Eve’s jeans down.
Moira made Eve feel safe, protected, cared for, and this reassurance, this finding a lover who she completely trusted with her heart, her dignity, meant everything to Eve. It meant that night, in the full sight of the moon and stars, witnessed by the hills and mountains, she would give herself completely to Moira.
Eve took a deep breath and tugged her underwear down her legs, closing her eyes as she felt Moira gently slip her fingers inside her. With one hand nestled in Moira’s hair and the other grasping the grass to the side of her, Eve let go, embracing the waves of intense sensation, her breath catching at each crest of pleasure. With each slow, deep breath, Eve was engulfed in the intoxicating aromas of pine, fern, sweet dew, and the warm lingering notes of whisky; Eve was engulfed by Moira, consumed by Moira. Moira was the beginning and the end.
Moira felt a strong sense of calm. She knew that she hardly knew this woman, yet she also knew in that moment, that very night, she wanted to be the one Eve trusted above all others, the one she felt the safest with, the one she longed for. She wanted to be the one Eve could let go with.
She kissed the delicate inside of Eve’s wrist, her kiss warm and intense. Eve opened her eyes and held the side of Moira’s hot flushed cheek. Eve touched Moira’s lips, and Moira formed a kiss in response, taking Eve’s fingers in her mouth, sucking gently, and mirroring the movement of her fingers inside Eve.
“Moira.” Eve’s voice arched, desperate with ecstasy and desire.
With this final call, Moira felt Eve’s body relax, spent and exhausted, and collapse into the blanket beneath.
Eve lay there on the hillside as her breathing calmed. “That was so…”
Moira lay next to Eve, feeling a sense of exquisite fatigue.
Eve lay naked, watching the crescent of the moon and the shimmer of stars disappear and reappear through the clouds. Her body felt alive, every nerve ending bristling. As the intensity calmed, she shivered as her perspiration evaporated into the cool night air.
“Do you want to go in?” Moira’s voice smouldered, smoky with the afterglow of passion.
“Not yet.” Eve looked at Moira with heavy-lidded, dreamy eyes. “I just want to be here—with you.”
Moira pulled a blanket over Eve and herself, their heads and hearts spinning in time.
*
Eve opened her eyes and blinked into the early morning daylight. She felt Moira stir and nestle her face into her neck. Eve turned her head gently to glance around the sitting room. The ambling fire Moira had lit when they returned to the croft had gone out. The remnants of tea stained the bottoms of two mugs sitting on the stone hearth. Clothes hung, as if exhausted, from the armchair and shoes scattered themselves over the rug. Her gaze paused sleepily on the mantelpiece clock.
“Oh, shit,” Eve exclaimed. “Does that say seven?” Startled, Eve scrambled off the sofa and began pulling on her clothes and shoes.
Moira squinted, bleary eyed, in the direction of the clock.
“It’s okay,” Moira said, with a voice husky with sleep and the embers of desire. She sat on the edge of the sofa, a blanket tucked around her, watching Eve darting about. “Do you want some coffee?”
With heels barely in her shoes, Eve gasped, “I’ve got to go. They’ll wonder where I am. I have to go, I can’t…” Eve stood with her back to Moira, her body facing the direction of the door. “I can’t stay.” The word stay crumbled from Eve’s lips as she burst into tears.
“Eve, please don’t.” Moira held Eve tightly against her. “I know you can’t. I know you’re leaving. We’ve always known that, haven’t we?”
Eve wiped at her eyes, desperately trying to regain her composure. “But it can’t end here, not like this. We can stay in touch, see each other again, can’t we?” Eve couldn’t tell from Moira’s blank expression what she was thinking. “Look, I’ll write my number down here.” Eve scribbled her number on the back of a leaflet advertising the centre and gave it to Moira. “I’ll be home definitely by nine tonight. Will you ring me then?”
Moira studied the number.
“That’s a seven, not a one.” Eve pointed to the last digit.
Moira nodded and smiled.
Eve hugged Moira, squeezing her, holding her
close, as she whispered into Moira’s ear, “I’ll really miss you.”
*
That evening, staring at her phone, her thoughts full of Eve, her thumb poised to press dial, Moira began to feel a terrible sense of panic. She felt on the edge of disarray, her life unravelling.
This is madness. Where is this going? This has to stop.
Moira resolved right then and there to do everything she could to restore order once more. She would bury herself in her work. Yes. And she would soon forget Eve. As Eve, Moira was certain, would soon forget her.
“Without doubt, it’ll all be forgotten,” Moira said, with a heavy sigh, as her thumb pressed cancel.
Chapter Fourteen
“Did something happen when you were away, Evie Eds?”
Eve felt her cheeks flush at Roxanne’s question.
“Because, well, no offence, Eddison, but you’ve been a total space cadet since your hols. And I am now officially bored with it. And perhaps a little bit concerned, but mainly bored. So spill.”
Eve knew that she needed to talk about what happened with Moira. That she needed to find some way of lifting the emotional fog that clouded her every thought and impulse. Eve was missing Moira so much she was left with a constant aching in her chest that made her feel like she was about to cry. Without question, the last fortnight had seemed the longest of her life.
Eve slumped next to Roxanne on the sofa, pulling cushions against her chest.
“Look, you’re freaking me out,” Roxanne said. “Are you ill or something? Just tell me what’s going on.”
“She hasn’t rung.” And my life is over. “I gave her my number the last time we were together. And then I rang and left a message on the answerphone for her where she works, to tell her I got home safely and to ring me.”
“What, the chicken”—Roxanne cleared her throat—“the woman you met on holiday?”
Eve nodded forlornly.
“She didn’t give you her home number?” Roxanne asked.
“No, that’s the thing, I left in a rush and didn’t take it. I only just had time to give her mine.”
“Okay. Well, I don’t know, Evie, you never know she may have lost your number. Or one of her hens ate it? Or I’m sorry, mate, but she may not want to see you again.”
Eve shook her head. “I don’t understand, Rox. It felt real, like she really wanted me. That it wasn’t just sex.”
“What, you slept together?” Roxanne’s mouth fell open. “Wow.”
“Yeah, you don’t need to sound quite so surprised, Rox.”
“Anyone a little oversensitive? Anyway. So was she a good lay?” Roxanne smirked.
Eve, ignoring the chicken reference, felt tears rise and sting, as she replied, “Yes. She made me feel…I’ve never felt that way, you know, with anyone.” Tears streamed down Eve’s cheeks.
Roxanne put her arm around Eve’s shoulders. “I’m sorry, mate.”
“Honestly, she only had to look at me, Rox. She has this smile thing going on, melty.” Eve drew out the word melty. “And when she touched me, well.” Eve puffed out her cheeks and sniffed. “And then, when she lay naked on top of me, for God’s sake.” Eve took off her jumper and looked across to Roxanne, who had shifted in her seat. “Sometimes it can take me ages, you know.” Eve blushed, self-consciously. “And then I find it hard to let myself relax.”
Roxanne protested, “Oh my God, TMI.”
“But with Moira, Rox, it felt different—like it was meant to be.” Eve looked away, a wistful expression on her face. “It was magical. She made love to me under the stars, like in the movies—”
“What—you did it outside? Bloody hell.”
“I know. It was Moira’s idea.”
“Really? I thought, you said she hadn’t much, if any, gay experience. You didn’t think to ask her if she had previous girlfriends or—I don’t know—a current girlfriend, perhaps?”
Eve shook her head. “She hasn’t, at least, that’s what I assumed—”
“You mean presumed?”
Eve frowned. “It all seemed, I don’t know, a big deal to her somehow. And she needed quite a lot of reassurance, at least, at first.” Eve shrugged. “So what do you think I should do? I mean, should I ring her again? I don’t want to pressurize her if she doesn’t…” Eve bit her lip.
There was an awkward pause.
“Well, I guess you could ring again. You don’t want to look desperate though, Evie.” Roxanne sighed.
“No, I guess not,” Eve said with a desolate tone, as she watched Roxanne clamber from the sofa and walk over to the front door. “You’re leaving already? I thought we were going to the cinema. It’s Sunday, we always go. Rox?”
“No offence, but there’s only so much sex under the starlight I can take without heaving. And let’s face it, we both know you’re just going to sit there like a zombie.” Roxanne pulled on her coat. “Look, I don’t know what to say to you, mate. Ring her, don’t ring her—whatever. I don’t care. But this whole distracted, sad, anguished thing you’ve got going on—no offence, but it’s kind of a drag.”
“Right.” Eve lay back on her sofa, listening to her front door closing. She closed her eyes. Why haven’t you rung me, Moira, why haven’t you rung?
It made no difference how much Eve’s heart hurt, or how confused she felt that she had misread things so badly, because at the end of the day, it was clearly over. Moira had not rung and that was that. All Eve could do going forward was preserve what dignity she had left, and not bother Moira again.
*
“Have you heard from our girl, Angus?” Elizabeth asked, dabbing her napkin at her lips.
“No, seen her though,” Angus said, matter-of-factly, as he began clearing the Sunday lunch plates from the table.
“Really, where?”
“Back at Foxglove, half an hour ago. She looked tired. I hope she’s not working too hard. Why?”
Elizabeth stood to wrap a scarf around her neck and lifted her coat from its hook.
“Where are you going, Betty?” Angus asked, looking at the half-cleared table.
“Moira’s.”
“Moira’s? Wait, I’ll give you a lift, woman.”
Drawing up to Foxglove Croft, Elizabeth advised, “Wait in the car.”
“Why?” Angus asked. “Has something happened? Is Moira all right?”
Elizabeth gave Angus a look.
Angus sighed and rummaged down the side door of his Fiesta, pulling out his pipe and an old book of verse.
“I won’t be too long,” Elizabeth said quietly, her gaze fixed in the direction of Moira’s door as she got out of the car.
“Hello, Moira. Hello.” Elizabeth found Moira in her garden attending to her hens.
“Hello there,” Moira said with a tired smile. “I’m wondering whether she’s egg-bound. I may give her a warm bath in the morning.”
Elizabeth looked at Moira studying the hens as they pecked the earth.
“It’s been good of Alice to see to them for you,” Elizabeth said, stifling the pressing need to ask the questions gathering impatiently at her lips.
Moira looked across at Elizabeth and nodded.
“Whilst you’ve been so busy, away from Newland.” Elizabeth was searching Moira’s face, hoping for some betrayal of expression, some indicator of emotion.
“Tea?” Moira suggested, her face unreadably blank. “I’ve a pot just brewed.”
“Aye, yes, that would be lovely.”
“I’ll bring the tea in. Shall we?” Moira gestured into the sitting room.
“Ah.” Elizabeth slipped her shoes off, sinking her elderly frame into the soft cushions of the awaiting armchair. “That’s better.”
Moira smiled as she handed Elizabeth her tea, served in her favourite china mug.
“You’ve been missed at the centre. Poor Alice, really, Moira, you need to collect at least a dozen messages from her and that’s just from this week. And she’s fretting terribly about the preparations for her
outreach tour. I could not settle her. She kept repeating that the tour is part of her course assessment and that she was relying on your help. She’s convinced she’s going to fail.”
“I’ll call in to the centre first thing tomorrow. I’ll sort Alice, don’t worry. Angus can come in, you know.” Perched on the arm of the chair Elizabeth occupied, Moira nodded towards the window at the red Fiesta and a snoozing Angus.
“Let’s not encourage him. Anyway, it’s nice for us girls to chat. It’s been a little while Moira, hasn’t it, since we’ve had the chance for a good blether.” Elizabeth could not help but look at Moira and see in her the young child who’d once needed her so.
“Tell your father to re-warm them in the oven, to eat them at their best. Have you still got that jam I made for you? Please, Moira, do not tell me you’ve fed it to some animal friend or other.” Moira shrugged. “Well. A low temperature mind, they don’t need to be the cause of an inferno.”
The eleven-year-old Moira was helping Elizabeth to bake a batch of scones. Some savoury, some fruit.
“You’ve nearly as much flour on yourself, Moira, as in the mixture. Here.” Elizabeth brushed away the smudges of flour from Moira’s face with the tea towel.
“I’m not very good at baking, am I?”
“Not at all, Moira. It is not that you are not any good—it is that you are learning. And learning is good.” Elizabeth paused and smiled gently to herself, continuing, “And, in any case, between us girls, I feel sure that your husband will forgive a less than perfect scone or two.”
Moira looked up at Elizabeth and then back down at her floury hands. Picking the mixture from between her fingers, she replied, “I don’t want a husband.”
“Why ever not, Moira?”
“Because I don’t need one.” Moira rubbed her hands together to remove the remaining mixture.
“But everybody needs somebody, Moira, everybody.”
Moira shrugged. “I have you.”
Elizabeth quickly swallowed down the emotion rising in her throat. “Let’s get these in the oven, yes?”