by Clare Lydon
Meg leaned back in her chair and grasped the back of her neck, exhaling as she did. She took a while to answer. “You can thank Jamie — he persuaded me.” She paused. “And now it’s down to you to persuade me further.”
Lawrence laced his fingers together in a dome and took a deep breath. “I really am sorry for everything I missed and I’m sorry for being an absent father. But if you’ll let me, I’d like to make it up to you.” He paused, looking Meg direct in the eye. “I don’t want to lose you again. Whatever it takes, I’m willing to do.”
Meg sat up in her seat and tapped her knife on the table. “Whatever it takes, huh?”
Lawrence held her gaze. “Whatever it takes,” he repeated.
Meg let a smile creep onto her face. “Well, you can start off by paying for dinner. I think you owe me a few.”
Lawrence risked a smile back. “Done.”
36
Wednesday night and Kate was at her mum’s for dinner. There was an uneasy truce in the air after the Lawrence debacle and neither of them knew just what was going on with their relationships. Lawrence had been in touch with Maureen to tell her he needed to sort ‘the situation’ out first before seeing her again, and Maureen was optimistic that wouldn’t take too long and things would soon be back to normal.
Kate wasn’t quite sure where normal began and ended, so her take on matters was quite different. She was currently slumped over Maureen’s kitchen table, her chin resting on her hands, the weight of the world on her shoulders.
“They met up you know — Lawrence and Meg.” Maureen was chopping the tips off of green beans to go with their salmon and potatoes, currently baking in the oven.
Kate’s ears perked up. “They did?”
Maureen chopped, then turned around to face Kate. “They did. And he said it went okay. She brought her brother along and they went to the Indian place on the High Street. It’s a start, and hopefully it’ll smooth the way forward.” Maureen paused. “Her brother’s gay too, did you know?”
Kate nodded. “I did — I’ve met him. He’s nice.”
“Lawrence says so, too.” Maureen paused. “You never know, we might all be going on a double date and laughing about this before too long. Me and Lawrence, you and Meg.”
Kate smiled wanly. “How do you stay so positive? I feel like I’ve been thrown around on a spin cycle since I’ve met Meg.”
“But despite all that, you still want to be with her, don’t you?”
Kate shrugged, then nodded slowly. “I do. But I’m not sure if we’re meant to be. There’s too much change in the air and maybe the universe is trying to tell us something. That it’s just not the right time.”
Her mum put the beans on to steam and put the plates in the microwave to warm — it was one of her mum’s habits that she’d passed on to Kate — always warm your plates.
“You youngsters and your stars aligning nonsense. You’re in control of your life, love. If you want it to happen, you make it happen — listen to a wise old crone like me.” Her mum chuckled. “I was like you once, very c’est la vie.” She put the last comment in finger brackets. “But then your dad died and I thought, where does c’est la vie get you? Lawrence is in no doubt what I want to happen and he’s in agreement. I’m giving him time to sort things out. And he will.”
The microwave pinged and her mum took the salmon and potatoes from the oven with a sky blue silicon glove shielding her fingers from the heat. She dished up the food, scooped the beans onto the plate with a large metal spoon and sat down opposite Kate.
“Have you been eating?” Her mum didn’t wait for an answer. “You look thin.”
Kate smiled. “I’ve been eating — Jess has been cooking for me.”
“And when she moves out?”
“I’ll start cooking again, don’t worry. I’ve just had more pressing things on my mind.” Kate speared a potato.
Maureen let a few seconds pass. “And I meant what I said — about the double date. It’d be good for Meg and Lawrence to know they have our support.” Maureen put her cutlery down and waited for her daughter’s response.
Kate chewed some salmon before speaking. “Let’s get her talking to me first before we start organising double dates, shall we?”
37
“My loneliness is killing me — oh Britney, if you only knew!” Meg was swaying her hips and singing along to Britney’s stellar hit with some gusto this morning. “When I’m not with you I lose my mind, give me a sign!” She paused and let out a huff of frustration. “A sign would be good, Britney, a sign would be really good.” Meg nodded her head in time to the music. “Give me a sign, universe!” she shouted into her empty shop.
This week had surely been one of the weirdest of her life. In the past seven days, she’d gone out for dinner with her dad and shut out her girlfriend, when it would normally have been the other way around. However, much to Meg’s surprise, the dinner hadn’t been a total bust and Jamie had performed his role to a tee, once he’d actually arrived. He smoothed the ground for her dad to speak, filling the gaps as Meg and Lawrence struggled to take in enough air. It had been a start, Jamie had told her, and they should do it again.
Without Jamie there to assist, though, Meg wasn’t sure how such an evening would play out. However, Jamie was there and would continue to be, until Meg and her dad felt able to wade out of the shallow end of their relationship and start swimming unassisted.
Meg had waited her whole life for her dad to appear. Now that he had, he’d better be prepared to go at her speed. She had enough other change going on with Kate, her mum and the house. She should spend this weekend looking at possible flats, but her heart wasn’t in it yet, being pulled as it was in so many directions. Maybe moving in with her mum as a temporary measure would suit them both right now.
The radio began blurting out Ricky Martin’s most famous hit and Meg took the bait, determined to charge up her good mood battery. Livin’ la vida loca? She could do that, just for today.
She was just belting out the final verse of Ricky Martin’s opus when the tinkle of the shop bell made her look up, the final la vida loca sticking in her throat. Meg frowned at what she saw. In front of her was a man standing with a bunch of white roses and three alert sunflowers in the middle of them.
Standing in her shop with a bunch of flowers not from here.
The man looked at Meg with more than a hint of confusion on his face, then consulted his delivery address, before looking back at her again.
“Meg Harding?” He was wearing a shirt emblazoned with Interflora.
“That’s me,” she said.
The man strode over to her and handed Meg the bouquet with a grin. “I’ve never delivered flowers to a florist before.”
“And I’ve never received any either, so that makes two of us.”
They exchanged a ‘whatchagonnado’ grin, with Meg signing for the roses and the man wishing her a good day.
When he’d gone, Meg couldn’t resist plunging her nose into the roses’ fresh bouquet — they were beautiful. She ripped the envelope from where it was stuck to the stems. If this was from her dad, it was a highly misguided gesture. She plucked the card from the envelope and her heart stuttered. She held her breath as she read.
‘You said you never received flowers, so I thought I’d remedy that. I miss you. Kate. Xxx’
Meg gulped in air and dropped her head, before scanning the card again. No hidden message, no cryptic clues. Just a plain and simple ‘I miss you’. And this was quite the romantic gesture. Something brave. Something bold. Kate was being bold and Meg was welling up.
Meg was being wooed.
38
Saturday dawned with wearisome predictability and Kate lay in bed listening to the rain cascade down her windows, breathing in the fresh laundry smell of her clean sheets. Fresh bed linen was one of life’s little perks you could count on. Her brain was bone-dry, her tongue furry. She wouldn’t have minded, but Kate hadn’t even had a drink last night.<
br />
Outside her door, Jess was singing along to the radio as she packed her stuff into boxes. From the sound of the clanking, she was packing up her kitchen stuff. Kate would have to buy some new baking trays and tins.
The flowers had been sent, but Kate had heard nothing — so she had no idea what to think anymore about Project Meg. Perhaps fate was trying to tell her something. Perhaps the goddess of love was taking a well-earned break and had washed her hands of any more lesbian love affairs and drama.
She should get up and help Jess pack, but Kate couldn’t move from her bed. Instead, she grabbed her phone from her bedside table and checked her inbox. Still nothing. She looked at Meg’s Facebook page — it stood unchanged, the same as it had been for the past week. It was as if Meg’s life had stopped turning the night she met her dad again, even though Kate was well aware she was still very much alive. Kate was grateful for that at least, if not for all of the ill-fated connections the pair shared.
Kate’s mum was seeing Lawrence tonight, exactly one week after the party.
Kate, on the other hand, was having a meal for one in her newly solo home. Her current failure at life and love was so obvious, she worried there might be a neon sign erected by her front door: ‘This Way To Loserville’.
She threw her phone back on her bedside table and flung back the covers. She made a decision on the spot.
“No wallowing, Carter,” she said out loud. “Today you’re going to do something just for you.” What that was, Kate wasn’t sure, but it was a decision, and that was something. She grabbed her jeans from the floor and pulled them on, together with her favourite purple sweatshirt. She brushed her hair and opened her eyes as wide as they would go. Then she went in search of her soon-to-be-departed flatmate.
She found Jess in the lounge, looking out of the window and hugging one of Kate’s cushions to her chest. Kate yawned before speaking. “You can take it if you like.” She walked over and rested her head on Jess’s shoulder. “As a keepsake, a souvenir of our time together.”
Jess didn’t turn her head. “You’re giving me a cushion? But you love your cushions.”
“And I love you, too,” Kate said.
Jess turned her head. “This is a fine time to declare your love for me — the day I’m moving out to be with another woman.”
Kate walked around the sofa, before dropping onto it with a sigh. “Apparently timing isn’t my strong point. Just ask Meg.”
Jess gave Kate a rueful smile. “She’ll come round, you’ll see.” She sat down beside Kate. “And even if she doesn’t miss you, I will. I’ve loved living here. I was just standing there thinking that.”
“I know,” Kate replied.
“And I worry you won’t eat if I’m not around.”
“I can cook, you know.” Kate waved a hand. “And if I don’t feel like it, I’ll come to the café every day to pick up supplies.” She stroked her chin. “And I was thinking I might redecorate. Do something different. I might even go freelance and turn your room into an office — who knows?”
Jess laughed and threw the cushion at Kate. “Charming. At least wait till I’m out the door before you start making any changes.”
“I’ll try.” Kate cleared her throat. “What time’s Lucy due?”
Jess pulled her phone from her pocket. “About an hour.”
“And is there lots left to do?”
Jess shook her head. “Just a few bits — I need to pack my clothes. Besides, I can always come back. It’s not like you’re going anywhere is it?” Jess yawned and stretched, her arms extended fully above her head.
“I dunno, it depends,” Kate said. “I might have turned your room into a wet room by next week.”
***
Meg lay on her side in her bed, curled up in the foetal position. She’d spent last night with her mum, talking things over. Olivia was being surprisingly calm about the situation with her dad, even the bit about Jamie seeing him behind their backs. Apparently, that’s what two near-death experiences will do.
“You can’t control every aspect of your life, and the sooner you learn that, the better,” she’d told Meg.
Meg had simply eyed her with suspicion over their M&S meal deal dinner — lasagne, profiteroles, salad and wine. You couldn’t go wrong for a tenner.
Olivia had also told her to get over herself and give Kate a call, because wouldn’t life be better with her than without her? Meg had grudgingly admitted that of course it would, but every time something had happened with them so far, some other obstacle had been thrown in her path. She was tired of building her hopes up and seeing them dashed, as she explained to Olivia.
Her mum had told her in no uncertain terms that she needed to toughen up, her disapproving look telling Meg she hadn’t raised her to give up so easily. Meg knew it was the truth. However, giving up was so much easier.
Meg got up, threw on her soft cream dressing gown, stepped into her slippers and padded down the stairs to the kitchen. On the table sat some of Kate’s roses in a glass vase; the sunflowers and the rest of the roses were in a vase in the lounge. Meg put the kettle on, picked up a rose and inhaled its scent. Outside, the rain was lashing down again — at least her plants would be happy.
“Can I have one of those?”
Meg glanced up to see Tanya in the doorway, dressed in pyjama bottoms and a hooded sweatshirt.
“A rose?” Meg asked, before putting it back in the vase.
“I’d prefer a cup of tea.” Tanya sat down at the kitchen table. “What are you doing here, anyway? Who’s at the shop?”
“Jamie and Greg — I’m getting my first Saturday off in forever.”
“About time too. And did you over-order on the white roses? Never seen so many in the house when I came in last night.” Tanya yawned and ran her hand up and down the back of her head.
Meg shook her head as she added two teabags to the pot and turned around. “They were a gift actually — from Kate.”
Tanya raised an eyebrow. “Sending flowers to a florist — that’s brave or stupid, depending on how you look at it.” She pursed her lips. “Which way are you going?”
Meg smiled. “I think more brave.” She paused, then nodded. “Definitely brave.” She turned back to make the tea.
“So are you giving her another go?”
Meg chuckled. “You make her sound like a fairground ride.”
“I didn’t sleep with her, so I can’t possibly comment.” Tanya paused. “But are you?”
Meg didn’t say anything, instead making the tea and carrying the pot to the table, along with the mugs and the milk. She sat opposite Tanya and locked eyes with her.
“I don’t know, is the honest answer. Jamie thinks I should. Mum thinks I should. Even my dad has an opinion, which is really weird. But they’re not the ones in the firing line, are they?” She squeezed the teabags and shook the pot.
Tanya reached over the table and stopped Meg’s fiddling. “What are you waiting for exactly?” she asked. “I mean, we’ve been over for a while and you rejected me. I accept that. But now you meet someone who you like — and I know you like her — and you’re not willing to truly give it a try?”
“But look at how it’s gone so far.”
Tanya shrugged. “Pretty well, I’d say. So your dad’s seeing her mum — so what? You didn’t tell her about us — it happens. None of this is about me or your dad, though; it’s about you and what you want. And she clearly wants you if these roses are anything to go by.” Tanya sucked on her bottom lip. “We’re about to make a fresh start, and you could do that with Kate. Wouldn’t that be better? Better than sitting here in the rain, making endless pots of tea and wondering ‘what if’? And this isn’t something I say lightly — I’m just sick of seeing your moping face.”
Meg stared at Tanya and exhaled. She looked up at the clock on the wall, then back at her ex. Then Meg poured the tea and pushed a mug over the table to Tanya, before pouring her own.
Tanya clicked her fingers t
ogether and jumped up. “I nearly forgot,” she said, disappearing. She returned moments later with a small white envelope addressed to Meg. “I picked this up with my mail yesterday and only realised last night.” Tanya handed it to Meg. “No idea what it is.”
“Me neither.” Meg frowned, holding up the small envelope to the light, peering to see if she could solve the mystery. She didn’t recognise the writing. Meg sliced it open with her finger and pulled out a Sainsbury’s receipt with a Post-It note attached. The Post-It note read: ‘Never Forget x’. Meg’s breath caught in her throat and the corners of her mouth edged upwards.
Tanya screwed up her face. “What is it?”
“You know what, for the first time in a long time, you might just be talking sense.” Meg drummed her fingers on her mug, before standing up abruptly. “I have to get showered and get going.” She picked up her mug of tea, kissing Tanya on the cheek as she passed her.
***
An hour later and Lucy was carrying Jess’s final suitcase out to her car, groaning under its weight as she bumped it down the stairs.
Jess was standing in the kitchen, washing up her favourite black-and-white spotted mug.
Kate stood at the kitchen doorway, a favourite position where they’d shared many conversations in their time together.
“You really have been my favourite-ever flatmate, you know.” Kate didn’t want to get misty-eyed, but thought it might happen anyway. She fiddled with her white belt and sucked in her stomach.
Jess looked up at her sister-in-law. “And you mine. But we will see each other again, so let’s not get too maudlin, okay?”
Kate smiled. “I know.” She paused. “But now you’re heading off to live with your girlfriend, you do remember the faults you need to work on, right? Emptying the dishwasher, cleaning toothpaste off the sink, emptying the toaster-crumb tray. These are things that can irk a lover.”
Kate heard the steps being taken at double-quick speed and turned to see Lucy, whose hair was stuck to her face from the rain, her black coat shiny with rain drops.