Write Your Own Script

by A. L. Brooks

  There was an earnestness to her tone that warmed Maggie. Already Tamsyn was making an effort, trying to prove herself. It helped.

  “Well, I’m free tomorrow from the afternoon onwards, if that’s not too soon?”

  “Not at all. I…I can’t wait to see you again, Maggie.”

  “Um, how would you feel about coming to my house?”

  “I would feel very positively about that.” There was a smile in Tamsyn’s voice and Maggie chuckled in response. “Will Gizmo be there? I’d love to see his cute little face again.”

  “Yes, he will. He’s right beside me now, in fact.”

  “Keeping you company?”

  “Something like that.” Maggie gazed down at him and he stared back, unblinking. “I think…I think he’d like to see you too.”

  “And you, Maggie,” Tamsyn breathed, “would you?”

  Maggie swallowed. “Yes, of course. It’s just…”

  There was a small silence. “I know. Sorry, I shouldn’t push. I…” Tamsyn inhaled deeply, then said, “God, I’ve missed you.” Her voice ached with something Maggie didn’t dare think about. Not yet.

  They didn’t speak for a few moments more, then Maggie gathered herself, and cleared her throat again, pushing the words out. “Would two o’clock work for you? We can have some coffee, perhaps a mince pie.”

  “Well, that’s sold it. Bring on the mince pie.”

  Maggie couldn’t help the snort of laughter, relieved that Tamsyn had eased them away from the intensity of the previous moments with her dry humour.

  “I’ll text you my address. It’s, um, it’s a quiet street and you should be able to arrive without a mob of people working out who you are, or—”

  “Maggie, that’s fine, don’t worry. I’ll see you tomorrow at two, yes?”

  “Yes. Perfect. Thanks, Tamsyn.”

  “No, thank you. Thank you so much for calling, I can’t tell you how happy that’s made me.”

  “I… You’re welcome. See you tomorrow.”

  They hung up, and with fingers that trembled even more than before she’d called, Maggie tapped her address into a text message and hit send. The three roving dots indicating that Tamsyn was typing a reply popped onto her screen immediately, and she waited, teeth worrying at her bottom lip.

  Got it. Thanks again, it means the world to me that you at least want to meet. We’ll talk, I promise. Don’t hold back, Maggie, ask me anything and everything. I will answer. T x

  Maggie slumped back against the sofa cushions, and accepted Gizmo’s snuffles against her neck as he stood and stretched on his hind legs to reach her.

  Tamsyn sounded deadly serious about this. Did that mean…?

  God, I hope so. I don’t think I could take losing this before it’s got started. Again.

  Gizmo went supersonic moments before the doorbell rang. Maggie watched in wonder as he sprinted out of the kitchen, claws scrabbling for purchase on the wood floor of the hallway, ears pinned back, and what could only be described as delirious barks issuing out of him.

  Guess I’m not the only one who missed her.

  She followed him at a more sedate pace, breathing evenly, and held him back by his collar as she opened the door.

  Tamsyn smiled radiantly as soon as they came face-to-face, which did nothing to settle the beat of Maggie’s heart.

  “Hi,” Tamsyn said, before looking down at the quivering dog. “And hello to you too, Gizmo.”

  He yipped, and jumped up at her.

  “Come on in.” Maggie stepped aside. “If you can get past this one, of course.” She pointed at Gizmo, and Tamsyn laughed before stepping carefully around him and into the house.

  Maggie closed the door and turned back to see Tamsyn lavishing love and ear ruffles on Gizmo, who stood stock still, almost in a trance. His eyes had glazed over, and Maggie didn’t think she’d ever seen him look so contented. She couldn’t be affronted; she kind of understood how he felt.

  When Tamsyn stood again, her smile was even wider. “Well, that was some welcome.”

  “He missed you,” Maggie said quietly. “After you left Norfolk, he kept waiting by the door for you to come back.”

  Tamsyn blinked. “Aww, that’s…” She swallowed and looked down at Gizmo, who was now sitting at her feet, gazing up at her. “I missed you too, buddy.”

  “So, shall I take your coat?”

  “Thank you, yes. Sorry, I got so distracted by Gizmo I didn’t even really say hello to you properly.” Tamsyn frowned as she undid the buttons on her cream, woollen coat.

  Maggie waved the apology off. “He’s good at distracting. I get it.”

  Tamsyn chuckled, and nodded her thanks when Maggie took the coat from her. “Your house is gorgeous,” she said, her gaze moving down the hallway, and then up the staircase. “Well, what I can see of it so far.”

  “I’ll give you the quick tour, shall I, and then we can sit down?”

  “Whatever you prefer, Maggie. We can do the tour later or another time or…” Tamsyn’s hands were clutched in front of her, and her forehead kept creasing into a frown, as if she were totally unsure about whether she should speak, and if so, what she should say.

  “Actually,” Maggie said, relaxing as she realised she wasn’t the only one who was a mess today, “how about a coffee?”

  “Perfect,” Tamsyn replied on an exhale.

  “Okay, why don’t you take a seat in there,” Maggie pointed to the living room, “and I’ll bring it through in a minute.”

  Tamsyn nodded and followed Maggie’s pointing finger to the living room. Gizmo followed her, his head and tail held high.

  Oh, dear—more than one heart could get broken today if we can’t work this out.

  Maggie sighed and walked slowly to the kitchen. She could have invited Tamsyn into the back of the house to chat while she made the coffee, but she needed a moment, time to collect herself and martial her thoughts. Tamsyn’s beauty had, as always, stopped her in her tracks. The thought of taking the ‘what the hell’ route, and simply marching Tamsyn up to her bedroom was way too tempting, and she’d had to step away. She knew she had to do this right, if they were going to do it.

  The coffee machine spluttered and gurgled and reminded her yet again that she needed to replace it. However, it did manage to produce two steaming cups of rich, black coffee, and she placed those on a small tray with a little jug of milk, and then took a deep breath before leaving the kitchen.

  Tamsyn was sitting on the sofa, not quite at one end, with a dozing Gizmo at her feet. Her hands were on her knees, clenched tight, and again the signs of her nervousness calmed Maggie.

  She set the tray on the coffee table and sat down a couple of feet away from Tamsyn, who smiled at her.

  “Thank you,” Tamsyn said, freeing one white-knuckled hand to gesture at the coffee.

  “You’re welcome.”

  There was an awkward moment of silence, then Tamsyn exhaled.

  “And thank you for seeing me. For inviting me here. This is a lovely room.”

  “Mm, my favourite in the house.” Come on, you can’t talk about bloody decor the whole afternoon. Just spit it out, that’s why she’s here after all. “So, um, I did a lot of thinking after we met the other day.”

  Tamsyn immediately tensed, her posture rigid, both hands back to clasping her knees through the material of her black, skinny jeans.

  “And I realised,” Maggie continued, determination now flooding her body, giving her strength. “That I actually only have one question about what you said. I mean,” she smiled, unable to help herself, “attraction between us is not the issue, is it?”

  Tamsyn’s smile was tight, but it did relax her frown lines somewhat.

  “And even your exalted status as one of Britain’s best-loved actresses isn’t even really an issue,” Maggie said
, chuckling as Tamsyn rolled her eyes. “Although I have no idea how that would feel being the partner of it, if you see what I mean.” She locked gazes with Tamsyn. “The biggest issue I have about contemplating a relationship with you, is you not being out. I will never force anyone out, but I live my life very openly as a lesbian and I can’t, no matter how strongly I feel about you, get involved with you when I am just going to be your secret thing on the side. I’m sorry if that’s—”

  Tamsyn held up a hand. “I’m coming out.” Her voice was ragged, her eyes shining.

  Maggie stared at her. Had she heard correctly? “You… You’re what?”

  “My PR manager, Tony, and I, plus my agent Carmen, have plans to meet after Christmas to discuss how best to manage it and when to do it. Carmen has laid my mind to rest about my career prospects once I’m out, but, more importantly, I have accepted that it is the right thing to do for me, whatever the impact on my career. And,” she shuffled in her seat, but didn’t take her eyes off Maggie, “I decided all of that before I decided to track you down. I’m doing this for me, not for us, first and foremost. Not to negate what you mean to me, or what I hope you can mean to me, but coming out is separate from that, and it’s an important distinction for me to make.”

  Tamsyn was trembling, and she was blinking back tears, and it was the simplest of instincts that propelled Maggie forward to wrap her arms around the shaking woman, and pull her close, and whisper, “I am so proud of you, and so pleased for you.”

  Tamsyn sobbed against Maggie’s hair, and her arms clutched tight at Maggie’s body. There was nothing sexual about the contact, nothing but friendship and support and care.

  “I realised,” Tamsyn gasped between sobs, “that even if I couldn’t be with you, I wanted something like we had. I was lonely, and so tired of being so.” She lifted her head, her face blotchy and her eyes still watery. “But just to be clear, I would very much prefer that I am with you.”

  Maggie gazed into those wet, brown eyes and smiled, her heart thumping and joy coursing through her veins.

  “Then,” she said, her voice croaking with the weight of her emotions, “we’d better make sure that happens, yes?”

  Tamsyn’s eyes went wide. “Are you… Do you mean that?”

  Maggie nodded, and made to speak, to affirm all that she was feeling, but whatever she was going to say was lost in the warmth of Tamsyn’s lips pressing against hers, and Tamsyn’s arms encircling her back. She let herself sink into the kiss, into the feeling of that mouth on hers, and all the sensations that engendered throughout her whole body. God, she’d missed this. Tamsyn’s tongue was tentatively seeking entrance, and Maggie opened to it willingly, moaning at the sweet feel of it stroking against her own, at the increased pressure of Tamsyn’s lips, the ragged breathing that told her just how badly Tamsyn wanted her.

  When they emerged from the kiss a couple of minutes later, Tamsyn’s eyes were damp again, but her smile was wide.

  “You just made me so happy, Maggie.”

  Maggie ran the fingertips of one hand down Tamsyn’s cheek. “Myself too.”

  Tamsyn laughed gently. “I have no idea what happens now.” She shrugged. “I’ve never been in a relationship before.”

  Maggie laughed, and kissed her. “Don’t worry, I’ll teach you all you need to know.”

  Raising her eyebrows, Tamsyn said, “Sounds interesting.”

  Maggie rolled her eyes, but her heart was doing cartwheels and her skin tingled.

  Then Tamsyn’s face turned serious. “It’s true though. I really don’t know. I’m worried I’ll make mistakes, or ruin things before they’ve even got started, or—”

  Taking Tamsyn’s face in both hands, Maggie said, “Relax. Breathe.” Tamsyn grinned and nodded. “We’ll both make mistakes as we navigate this. But we’ll just keep talking to each other, and being honest with each other, and if it’s meant to be, it will work.”

  “If?” Tamsyn’s eyes looked haunted.

  “I… Look, we’re both too old for games and false promises. And you’re not even out yet, so you’ve got a whole minefield waiting for you with that.” Maggie rubbed a thumb across Tamsyn’s soft lips. “At the risk of sounding far too practical, we don’t really know each other that well. Not yet. Yes,” she said, rushing on as Tamsyn made to interrupt, “we had an amazing nine days together. But that was eight months ago. We need to take our time to learn each other. Reconnect. See if what we had back then is as amazing as we both remember.”

  Tamsyn smiled then. “I think it will be.”

  “And I love your optimism. Don’t get me wrong, I’m optimistic too, but I’m also a realist.”

  “Fair point.” Tamsyn dropped a gentle kiss on Maggie’s lips. “So, in the spirit of learning each other, how about I get that tour of the house now? And I believe someone promised me a mince pie?”

  Maggie laughed, and reached for Tamsyn’s hand, which was warm within her own. “I did indeed. Right this way, ma’am.”

  Maggie’s house was lovely, and everything about it spoke of the woman who led her by the hand through each room. There was a warmth here, in the colours Maggie had chosen to paint each of the rooms, in the furnishings she’d used—rich-coloured woods, soft but thick fabrics for the curtains, the cushions, the bedding. And there were books. Everywhere.

  Tamsyn smiled as Maggie blushed while showing off her own ‘honour’ shelf in the living room, where hardback copies of all the Jessica Stewart novels were flanked by the awards she’d won for them.

  “Don’t blush. You should be proud of this.”

  “Have you got something similar, for your BAFTAs and the Emmy?”

  “I’m flattered you know exactly what I’ve won.” Maggie blushed again, and Tamsyn raised one eyebrow. “What?”

  “Well, you know I’ve had a lifelong crush on you, since I was a teenager.”

  “Ah, yes.” Tamsyn grinned.

  “So, you know, I’ve followed your career quite closely.”

  Tamsyn’s grin widened. “‘Quite closely’,” she said, smirking.

  “Don’t let it swell your head.” Maggie dug Tamsyn in the ribs.

  “Ouch!”

  “Serves your big diva head right.” Maggie chuckled, and Tamsyn stole a kiss. God, being able to kiss Maggie again was heavenly. Underneath their interactions was a simmering of the passion they’d shared all those months ago, but Tamsyn was content to let it do just that, simmer. For now, they needed closeness rather than nakedness, and being in Maggie’s home like this, joking and teasing, and learning things about each other, was perfectly satisfying. And being with Maggie had helped Tamsyn forget the worries that her evening with Lesley had stirred up. She was determined to come out—mostly—but she really did want to do it in her own time and ease herself into what would be a stunning change in the public’s perception of her.

  “Fair enough,” Tamsyn said, still holding Maggie close. “And yes, I do have a shelf with my awards. Not the first thing you see when you walk in my house, but certainly on show. We worked hard for these things,” she pointed at Maggie’s trophies, “so we have every right to show them off.”

  “Hear, hear.” Maggie pulled back. “And now I’m going to show you something no one else has seen.”

  Intrigued, Tamsyn let Maggie pull her into her study. This was the cutest room in the house, a small space tucked next to the kitchen at the back of the house, with a window looking out to the small garden, and furnished with only a simple, small desk, a well-worn chair, and two small bookcases overflowing with tomes of all sizes.

  Maggie pointed to a shelf above the desk, and Tamsyn smiled.

  “Maddie Jones,” she breathed, her eyes taking in the spines of all nine books Maggie had published under that name. Dotted in amongst the books were awards for these too. “But why is this hidden in here and not on display in the living room with the
Jessica Stewarts?”

  “Maddie Jones is my deep secret.” Maggie sighed. “When I was such an instant success as Jessica Stewart, I didn’t want to run the risk of the two personas crossing over. I couldn’t imagine my lesbian readers being that impressed that I wrote bodice-ripping straight romances, and vice versa.” She shrugged. “It became a habit to keep those two aspects of myself so far apart, but now… Well, now I wonder if that was a mistake. One of the things I came to terms with in Norfolk was that I, too, was not living the life I truly wanted. And keeping Maddie Jones a secret was part of that.”

  “So, no one knows?”

  “You. And I told my sister, Ruth, only recently.”

  Tamsyn slowly ran a hand up Maggie’s arm. “Yes, I think you’re right. I think Maddie Jones also needs to come out now.”

  Maggie laughed, and leaned in to give her a kiss, which, even though it was gentle and brief, still sent sparks of something much deeper than lust pinging along Tamsyn’s spine.

  “Very true.” Maggie glanced up at the shelf, then back to her. “Mince pie time?”

  Tamsyn rubbed her hands together and grinned. “Hell yes.”

  The afternoon passed in a delicious haze of conversation, mince pies—two each—and coffee. They talked about what they had each been up to in the intervening months, and fascinated each other with background info about their professional lives.

  “Maybe one day,” Tamsyn said, reaching for Maggie’s hand across the table, “when I’m fully out and the dust has settled, you could come to a set, and watch me at work.”

  Maggie’s eyebrows shot up. “Seriously? That’s possible?”

  “Hey, I’m not one of Britain’s best-loved actresses for nothing, you know.” She grinned.

  “I’d love that,” Maggie said, for once sounding amusingly like the star-struck fan.

  Into the silence that suddenly fell between them, a loud ping from the hallway announced a reminder on Tamsyn’s phone, and her memory jerked awake.