by A. L. Brooks
Table Of Contents
Other Books by A.L. Brooks
Acknowledgements
Chapter 1
Chapter 2
Chapter 3
Chapter 4
Chapter 5
Chapter 6
Chapter 7
Chapter 8
Chapter 9
Chapter 10
Chapter 11
Chapter 12
Chapter 13
Chapter 14
Chapter 15
Chapter 16
Chapter 17
Chapter 18
Chapter 19
Chapter 20
Chapter 21
Chapter 22
Chapter 23
Chapter 24
Chapter 25
Chapter 26
Chapter 27
Chapter 28
Chapter 29
Chapter 30
Chapter 31
Chapter 32
Chapter 33
Chapter 34
Chapter 35
Chapter 36
Chapter 37
Chapter 38
Chapter 39
Chapter 40
Epilogue
Other Books from Ylva Publishing
About A.L. Brooks
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www.ylva-publishing.com
Other Books by A.L. Brooks
The Long Shot
Write Your Own Script
One Way or Another
Up on the Roof
Miles Apart
Dark Horse
The Club
Never Too Late for Heroes by A.L. Brooks
(The Superheroines Collection)
Acknowledgements
Thanks once again to the team at Ylva for all their work in bringing another novel of mine to life.
Big thanks to my wonderful beta readers, Katja, Erin, and Amy, and to Cari for the extra read-through at the end.
And an enormous thank-you, with a big bow on top, to my editor, the editor-in-chief herself, Sandra Gerth. Oh wow, did you ever push me on this one! But thank you so much for your guidance, your patience, and all the things you taught me throughout this process. I owe you so many ice creams…
Lastly, a few words for anyone who has picked up this book because they, too, are questioning their sexuality. Know that if and when you are ready, there is a wonderful community waiting to welcome you in. Follow your heart; you won’t regret it.
Chapter 1
“You want to do what ?” The cappuccino in Carmen’s hand wobbled precariously as Felicity’s words sunk home.
“You heard me.” Felicity sipped from her own coffee, then put her cup down on the table.
“And you’re only just telling me now?”
“I’ve been thinking about it for a while.” Felicity grinned. “I want one before it’s too late.”
“It appears our definitions of ‘too late’ are very different.”
“Oh, sweetheart, don’t be like that. Loads of people have them!”
“Yes, they do.” Carmen held up a finger. “When they are much younger and their bodies don’t have the—” She caught herself just as Felicity frowned.
“No.” Felicity’s eyes narrowed. “I don’t think you want to finish that sentence.”
Carmen shook her head. “You’re right, I don’t.” She paused. “But…really?”
“Carmen, I love you, but sometimes you can be a complete stick-in-the-mud. I’m not ancient—I’m forty-four!”
“I know, and I didn’t mean to imply you were ancient. But, well, isn’t it a bit of a cliché? I mean, a middle-aged woman who’s just divorced husband number two and—”
“Middle-aged ?” Felicity screeched.
Several heads in the café turned.
Carmen’s ire rose. She gave everyone a wave that she hoped suggested they could turn their attentions elsewhere and glared at her friend of over twenty years. “I apologise. But you do know what I mean.”
Felicity huffed and sipped her drink once more. She blew out a loud breath as she lowered her cup. “I suppose so. But I’m still going to do it. You only live once.”
“Well, that brings up yet another aspect to this. Isn’t it awfully dangerous?”
Felicity snorted. “They use a needle, Carmen, not a carving knife.”
Carmen rewarded her friend with a withering stare, which was blatantly ignored. “I know that, but don’t you have to be concerned about the transmission of diseases if the needles aren’t clean?”
“Of course—if you go to some backstreet, unlicensed hack. Funnily enough, I don’t plan to do that.”
“But how will you know if they’re safe?”
“Carmen, please, give me some credit. I’ve researched! I know exactly where I’m going.” Felicity cleared her throat. “The appointment is at eleven.”
“Eleven? You mean today? ” Carmen stared at her. “You didn’t think to mention that when you invited me for coffee this morning?”
Felicity did have the grace to blush. “Well, yes, I may have left out that little titbit of information. But I want you with me! And I thought you might not come if I told you what was going on. Please, darling, I want to do this. And if nothing else, I’d value your opinion on the design.”
“I… But… You…” Carmen stopped talking since she was clearly incapable of forming complete sentences.
Felicity leaned forward and patted her hand. “Close your mouth, darling, you look like a fish. And drink up; it’s nearly time to go.” Her eyes shone with excitement.
Carmen downed the last of her cappuccino, knowing there was no point in arguing any longer.
Ten minutes later, they stood outside the tattoo studio.
“Okay.” Carmen turned to Felicity. “I’m only going to ask this one last time. Are you sure?”
“I am.”
Carmen looked at the studio frontage and read aloud the name emblazoned on the window. “Phoenix Tattoos.”
The banner was, she had to admit, artfully done, with a small image of a phoenix placed between the two words, which themselves were stylised flames in a wide range of oranges, reds, yellows, and gold. The window was tinted, so she couldn’t see inside, but the exterior of the studio was spotlessly clean and the wood-framed door was polished to a beautiful shine.
Okay. Not a total cesspit, then . Maybe Felicity had researched properly.
Felicity let out a small squeak that Carmen hoped came from excitement. “Come on.” She grasped Carmen’s arm and pulled her up the step.
The inside of the studio was as surprising as the outside. The tattooist’s chair sat towards the back of the room, centred on a shiny, cream-tiled floor and surrounded by stainless-steel counters. On top of those stood plastic boxes of all sizes, clearly labelled and organised into neat rows. Nothing was out of place, and everything looked immaculately clean. It was more like the kitchen of a fancy restaurant than how Carmen would ever have imagined a tattoo studio to be.
At the entrance was a small desk. To the right was a waiting area decorated with two large brown leather sofas which sat opposite each other on what looked like a real wood floor. A low table between the sofas held a selection of magazines and large folders. A water cooler took up one corner of the room and a machine for making hot drinks the other.
Wow. This looks nicer—and cleaner—than my doctor’s waiting room . Carmen’s preconceived notions about tattooists were diminishing by the second.
“Be with you in a second!” a velvety voice called from somewhere beyond the tattooist’s chair.
A woman? The tattooist is a woman? Carmen sat on one of the sofas. Well, why not? God, and you call yourself a feminist. She shook h
er head at herself.
“Are you okay?” Felicity’s brow was furrowed.
Carmen sucked in a breath. “I am. Just berating myself for walking in here with a bunch of preconceptions that I really should have known better about.”
Felicity’s smile was smug.
Carmen ignored her and reached for one of the folders on the table, intrigued as to what they contained. Her eyes widened as she flipped through the pages. Every page—or rather, plastic wallet—contained a beautifully drawn template for a tattoo design. There were mythical creatures, symbols, animals, plants, landscapes, cars, motorbikes, and every single one was drawn with an attention to detail that was incredible.
“Oh, wow.” She’d come to a drawing of a phoenix, a copy of the bird that adorned the studio window. Up close like this, she could see the feathers and colours in all their glory; somehow the artist had even managed to capture the glint of triumph in the phoenix’s eyes. “God, these are so good.”
“Thanks.”
Carmen snapped her head up; she hadn’t heard the woman approach.
“Hello.” The woman held out a hand. “I’m Ash.”
Carmen stood and returned the handshake. “Hi, I’m Carmen.”
“And I’m Felicity.”
Felicity and Ash also shook hands, and Ash smiled. “Ah, you’re my eleven o’clock.”
Ash looked to be a few years younger than Carmen’s forty-three, though it was difficult to tell—her skin was smooth and young-looking, but slight creases around her brown eyes told a different story. She was about the same height as Felicity, so perhaps 5’6”. Her dark brown hair, shaved at the sides but left longer on top, flopped down to a loose, mind-of-its-own fringe. She wore a plain red T-shirt over black jeans. To Carmen’s surprise, no tattoos adorned her arms. Another preconceived notion fled.
“That’s me!” Felicity sounded like a giddy little girl. “How does this work?”
Ash gestured her back onto the sofa. “First, we have a chat about what you’d like.” She sat next to Felicity, then looked across to Carmen. “Are you getting one too? I only have Felicity’s name in the book, but—”
“No!” Carmen’s response came a little too quickly, and she grinned sheepishly at Ash’s raised eyebrows. “Sorry, I didn’t mean that how it sounded.” She exhaled. “I’m her moral support. As if she needs it.”
Felicity snorted. “She’s tagging along because I asked her to. I do actually value her opinion on the design.”
“Okay, that’s fine.” Ash turned back to Felicity. “So you said when we spoke on the phone that you have a design in mind?”
Carmen liked Ash’s voice—it was calm and gentle, but it was more than that. Her natural tone was easy on the ear, just a hint of her background—east London or maybe Essex, Carmen would guess—showing through. At the same time, it definitely didn’t sound as if she was trying hard to cover up her roots. And while that meant her voice contrasted widely with both Carmen and Felicity’s more upper-class accents, Ash didn’t seem remotely bothered. Nor should she be . Carmen had lost count of the number of young actors, both male and female, she’d counselled over the last fifteen years for trying to hide where they were from with ridiculous put-on accents.
“I do.” Felicity rummaged in her handbag and pulled out a folded piece of paper. “I was hoping for something like this.” She pointed at all the folders on the table. “I know you have your own designs, and I hope it isn’t too cheeky to turn up with my own, but—”
Ash held up a hand. “It is totally okay to turn up with your own. Those designs in the folders are there as inspiration, but I’m always excited when a customer knows exactly what they want. It sounded pretty simple when we spoke last week, but I just need to take a look at it to see if it’s something that can be rendered by tattoo. Not everything can, okay?”
“I understand.”
Felicity handed over the slip of paper.
Carmen watched as Ash unfolded it and studied it in silence. She seemed very serious about her work, and Carmen’s respect for her climbed another notch.
“Okay, yes, this is definitely something I can do and in the timeframe we talked about. But first, some questions. Colour?”
“I’m happy with just black. I don’t think it needs anything else.”
Ash nodded slowly. “I think you’re right, but I’d suggest adding a little grey shading here and here, just to emphasise it.”
“Oh, that sounds good.”
Carmen craned her neck to look at the picture. Although Felicity had briefly shown it to her in the café a few minutes earlier, she was intrigued by Ash’s shading suggestion and how it would work.
Ash seemed to be aware of Carmen’s movement; she twisted a little in her seat and turned the paper towards Carmen.
“Thanks,” Carmen said, and Ash smiled.
Carmen stared at the picture, impressed once more with Felicity’s choice. The piece of paper had been cut from a magazine and held a photoshopped black-and-white image of a small bird escaping a dark cage and heading up towards the sun above it.
With this second, longer viewing of the picture and with the knowledge of all that Felicity had gone through in the last few months, sudden realisation dawned. Carmen gazed into Felicity’s eyes. “This…this is you, yes?”
Felicity, blinking rapidly, nodded.
“It’s perfect.” Carmen held out a hand, and Felicity took it. She squeezed it tightly for a moment before letting go.
“Okay,” Ash continued after a second or two, clearly sensitive to the moment and earning yet more unspoken appreciation from Carmen. “Next question, where?”
Felicity sat upright and placed a hand on her left hip. “Here.”
“Good, that area is a great choice. There’s more fatty tissue there.”
“I do hope you’re not calling me fat.” Felicity arched an eyebrow, but her eyes gave away her tease.
Ash’s mouth quirked. “I would never.” She tapped Felicity’s leg. “It’s just that you won’t feel too much discomfort on a more, um, padded area.”
Felicity looked relieved, and Carmen realised that for all her bluster, her friend was a little nervous.
“And finally, what size? Just like this”—Ash pointed at the picture—“or smaller? Bigger?”
“What do you think?”
Ash looked back at the picture for a few seconds. “I think this size is fine. Any smaller and I won’t be able to get some of the detail in. And I don’t think larger would have the same impact.”
“Perfect.”
“Ready to get started?”
For a moment, Felicity hesitated, then she straightened her shoulders and smiled broadly. “Hell, yes.”
Ash chuckled and stood. “All right. Follow me. Want a drink of something? Tea? Coffee?”
“Just water would be good.”
“I’ll get that.” Carmen stood, glad of an excuse to do something useful.
“That’s great, thanks.”
Ash smiled at her again, and Carmen noticed for the first time what an attractive face she had. It was striking, with a strong jawline and a slightly wide forehead. But her deep brown eyes and full lips softened those edges, and Carmen smiled as she wondered just how many admirers Ash had to beat off in any one day.
Would it be prejudicial of me to assume those admirers were mostly female?
It seemed obvious Ash was a lesbian or queer by some definition. Carmen could just imagine Maggie, her go-to person for knowledge of the queer world, tutting at her about judging based on stereotypes. She grinned as she headed over to the water cooler.
While Carmen poured out two cups of water, Ash directed Felicity into the chair. When Carmen joined them in the tiled part of the room, Felicity was reclined on her right side, her left hip upwards. Her skirt had been pulled down just far enough to expose the area that would be worked on.
“Are you sure I’ve left you enough room?” Felicity asked. “I can easily pull the skirt down further. I’m
not shy about these things.”
Carmen snorted. “That’s true.” She placed the water cups down on one of the counters.
“Shut up.”
Ash chuckled. “Well, okay, a little further would be good. I have towels to cover anything else that’s revealed, if you’re uncomfortable.”
“I’m fine.” Felicity tugged the skirt down further over her hips.
“That’s great, thanks.” Ash moved Felicity’s left arm back. “Let’s just tuck that under there for now. If you get cramped or tired, just shout and we’ll take a break, okay?”
“Okay. How long will it take?”
“It shouldn’t take longer than the hour you’ve booked. We’ll do thirty minutes first, unless you want to stop earlier, then have a break.”
“Thanks.”
Carmen watched in fascination as Ash pulled on latex gloves, then set up her equipment and prepared Felicity’s skin for the tattoo. All the while she explained what she was doing and why. Everything was sterilised, and all of the inks and needles were in single-use packages.
“It’s like going in for an operation.” Carmen pointed at everything lined up on the table.
Ash nodded. “Exactly. I’m basically creating a small wound each time the needle enters her skin. So I need to take the same precautions anyone in the medical community would.”
After completing her preparation, Ash reached for the tattoo machine, which looked like some kind of ray gun from a bad sci-fi TV show. She carried out a dry test with the gun on Felicity’s skin, probably assessing how it would feel, before loading it up with the ink.
“Ready?” Ash asked.
Felicity nodded enthusiastically, and in the next moment the loud buzz of the machine filled the air.
“And remember, no matter how tempting it is, don’t pick at the scabs!” Ash’s face was stern.
Felicity saluted. “Understood!”
Carmen shook her head. “I’m sorry, normally she is a grown-up.”
“Trust me, I’ve had worse.” Ash threw them a sly grin. She showed them to the door. “Ladies, it’s been a pleasure. Enjoy the rest of your day.”
Carmen smiled up at her. “Thank you, Ash. This has been a wonderful education. I really admire the way you work.” She meant every word—she couldn’t remember the last time she’d watched someone at their work and been so impressed.