Dare to Love

by A. L. Brooks

  “Hey, I’ve been meaning to ask,” Ash said. “What’s the origin of your name? I mean, Carmen isn’t exactly a classic English name.”

  Carmen chuckled. “No, it isn’t. When she was younger, my mother loved going to the theatre and the opera. And her favourite opera is Carmen , so…”

  “Really? That’s kind of out there, isn’t it? I mean, it’s not quite how I imagine upper-class people naming their kids. Aren’t they all named after their great-grandmother or great-grandfather or something?”

  “Normally, yes.” Carmen laughed. “It was so surprising she went through with it. She’s such a traditionalist about most other things. She followed that up with Tristan for my brother, from Tristan and Isolde , her second-favourite opera.”

  “Even fancier.”

  “He loves it. Thinks it only adds to his natural sophistication.” Carmen winked.

  “Okay, I like the sound of him already.”

  Carmen nodded. “He’s a great brother.” She sipped some more water. “So why tattoos?”

  “Always been fascinated by them, ever since I was a kid. My dad had been in the merchant navy when he was younger, and his arms were covered in them. He’d tell me all the places he’d been and where he’d had each tattoo done, and I always thought it would be cool to get some of my own. Then, the more I got interested in art at school, the more I thought about possibly joining the two things up.”

  “But you didn’t? Well, not right away.”

  A frown marred Ash’s features. “Yeah. Parental pressure when you’re sixteen and you’ve left school with only a couple of O levels to your name means finding a job, any job, to bring in some money.” She paused. “I was luckier than some. My mum cleaned houses for some pretty well-off people. One woman was some high-ranking manager at a bank and got chatting to her cleaning lady, my mum, one day, and heard all about me, the sixteen-year-old daughter who was smart and polite. I don’t know if she did it because she genuinely believed in giving someone a chance or if she just thought it would make her look good in the eyes of her other posh friends, but she pulled some strings and got me a clerical job. It was nothing much, but…” She shrugged. “I am smart. I proved myself worth much more within a few months, and within a few years I was working in trading.”

  Carmen could have been mildly insulted by Ash’s words about a rich person wanting to look good to their friends. But she knew many of her mother’s close circle only gave money to those in need for that exact reason. That and for the tax benefits. Equally, Ash’s story conjured up discomfort for the privileged life Carmen had been born into, where financial worries were non-existent. Carmen’s life through school and university had been easy in that respect, in comparison to Ash’s. It made her even more admiring of the woman who sat opposite her.

  “Your mum sounds lovely, talking about you like that to her clients.”

  Ash’s eyes shadowed. “She had her moments, yes.”

  The air between them was suddenly a tad uncomfortable.

  “Sorry, Ash. Now it seems I’ve hit a nerve. I’m—”

  Ash raised a hand. “No, it’s okay. My parents died in a car crash about twelve years ago. We weren’t close when they died, despite what my mum had done for me at sixteen.” She rubbed at the back of her neck. “They were homophobic. Really didn’t handle me coming out to them very well when I was going on seventeen.” Ash’s troubled eyes betrayed her calm demeanour.

  Carmen wanted to touch Ash’s arm or hand or do something that would show her concern for what had clearly been a hard time in Ash’s life. But they weren’t at that point yet in this friendship, were they? “Oh, I’m so sorry.” Carmen took a deep breath. “My brother is gay, and my mother is… She’s never fully accepted it. His boyfriend, for example, has never been invited to Christmas lunch, even though Tristan’s been with him for over six years now. I know her actions haven’t affected me directly, but I can at least empathise somewhat.”

  “Is your brother okay?”

  “He is, actually. He’s very happy with his life. It took him a while to get there, given the way she reacted when he first told her. But she has calmed down since then, and apart from Christmas, it’s generally okay. I think he knows she does love him, even if she doesn’t understand him. My father is better about it—he’s always been the one with the live-and-let-live attitude. Even so, he hardly ever asks about Tristan’s life other than his work. I know Tristan puts on a brave face, but it hurts him.”

  “Isn’t that funny? It was my dad who was better about it than my mum too. When I was thinking about telling them, I always assumed she, being such a nurturing woman, would be okay with it. But she really wasn’t.”

  The pain in Ash’s eyes pushed Carmen’s earlier reticence into the shadows. She placed her hand on Ash’s forearm. Their gazes locked, and there was gratitude for Carmen’s action in Ash’s expression. There was something else too. Carmen couldn’t name it, but it left her feeling a tad breathless. “I’m sorry you went through that. And I admire you for being the strong person you are now, despite all that.”

  “Thank you.” Ash exhaled and rolled her shoulders.

  The action pulled her arm away from Carmen’s touch, and the loss she felt seemed out of proportion to the moment.

  “God, families,” Ash murmured, her gaze still holding Carmen’s.

  Carmen nodded. She was strangely warmed by this odd connection they’d found between their histories.

  Ash sat up straight. “Enough of that. Let’s go back to talking about near misses with rhinos.” She grinned.

  Carmen glanced at her watch, and her heart sank. It was past ten already. How had they spent three hours together, and it felt like only thirty minutes? “Ugh, I’m sorry, but I ought to go. I’ve got another early start and—”

  “It’s okay.” Ash nodded in understanding. “I hadn’t realised it had got that late, actually.”

  “Me neither. I…I’ve really enjoyed this evening, but it’s flown by.”

  “And we never even got to the part about the crocodile in the campsite in northern Australia.”

  Carmen gasped and shuddered. “Perhaps I don’t need to hear that one.” She shook her head. “I’m beginning to think you’ve got a bit of a death wish.”

  Ash laughed. “I don’t actually go looking for these adventures, you know. They just kind of happen.”

  “Hmm, well, remind me never to go on holiday with you.” Carmen startled as she realised how forward that might sound, but Ash’s warm smile kept her from trying to take the words back. She grinned sheepishly instead and reached for her handbag. “Okay, I’m going to go in search of a cab.”

  “I’ll keep you company until you find one. I’m going to walk home.”

  “You sure? Will it be safe?”

  “I’ll be fine. I only take the main roads, and it’s not that far. But thanks for your concern.”

  “Okay, I believe you. But would you text me when you’re home?”

  Ash’s smile was even warmer than a moment ago. “I will.”

  They walked close together, not quite touching. Even so, Carmen could feel the warmth of Ash’s arm near hers. It comforted her, but she couldn’t for the life of her figure out why. It’s because we’ve formed a connection this evening . The shared interest in travel, the fact that they’d both had homophobic parents—those were the sorts of things people bonded over, weren’t they?

  People buzzed around them on the busy street, but within seconds Ash spotted a cab with its light on and waved it down.

  “Thanks, Ash. And I don’t just mean for the cab. This was a wonderful evening.”

  “Wasn’t it? I love meeting new people, hearing their stories. And we barely touched on yours—you let me talk far too much.”

  “But your stories are far more interesting than mine.”

  “I somehow doubt that.” Ash looked at Carmen with such a depth of interest, it stole her breath.

  The cab pulled up.

  “Well
, this is me.” Carmen looked at the cab, then back at Ash, who stood with her hands in the pockets of her jeans. Her pose was confident and strong, her shirt fitting her body like a glove, her face open and welcoming. She looked… Carmen struggled with breath once more as the word gorgeous ran through her mind.

  “I hope you get a decent sleep tonight,” Ash said quietly. “And, well, give me a call if you want to meet up anytime, okay?”

  Carmen nodded, not sure what she’d say if she tried to form words. What the hell is happening to me? She stepped into the cab, pulled the door shut, and threw Ash a weak smile as the driver pulled them away from the kerb.

  Chapter 13

  When Damian walked into the studio on Wednesday at a quarter to eight, Ash grinned at him. “Well, you look tons better.”

  “Whatever.” He wandered over to the couches and threw himself onto one.

  Ash chuckled, then turned back to her client, a woman called Julia, who’d just had a green sea turtle tattooed on her right thigh. The turtle joined the numerous other sea creatures Ash had been inking onto Julia’s leg for the last two years; she now had an almost complete coral reef scene stretching from her ankle to her groin. Ash finished taping the cling film over the site. “All done.”

  “Beautiful. Thanks, Ash.” Julia settled up, and they said their goodbyes.

  “Okay, give me ten minutes to clean up, and then we can go,” Ash called to Damian as she began collecting up used ink bottles, tissues, and other detritus.

  “No worries. Hey, fancy Thai tonight? I haven’t had a decent Thai in weeks.”

  “Sure. You choose where. I’m easy.”

  “Cool.”

  Fifteen minutes later, they were on their way to Tottenham Court Road or rather to one of the side streets leading off it towards the university district. Somehow Damian always knew the best—and out of the way—places to eat in whatever city he happened to be in.

  They caught up as they strolled along, Damian filling her in on some more details about the mix-up in Zimbabwe, but mostly talking about Botswana and what a fantastic place it had been.

  “You need to add it to your list,” he said as they crossed behind a line of stuck traffic, horns blaring and music pumping all around them.

  “Yeah, it sounds like it.”

  They arrived at the restaurant, and the waiter led them to a small table along the far wall, where they wedged in between a group of four young women on one side and two earnest-looking men on the other. All their neighbours had textbooks spread out between them.

  The waiter handed them worn menus and took their beer order before scurrying off.

  Damian opened his menu, ran a finger down page three, then slammed his menu shut. “Sorted.”

  “Seriously? I haven’t even looked yet.”

  He laughed. “I always know what I want and just needed to check they hadn’t scrubbed it off the menu.”

  Ash shook her head. She turned her attention back to her menu and concentrated on making her own choice. It was a good menu, lots of things she recognised and some she didn’t, which meant she had to pick something from the latter category. “Chicken peanut massaman for me.”

  “Oh, good choice.” Damian nodded sagely. “I’m having sour soup. The name does not do it justice, trust me.”

  “I believe you.” Ash grinned. “But I’ll need a taste, just to be certain.”

  They ordered, and while they waited for their food, Damian told her his plans for the next few months. Then he gave her a wicked grin.

  “So, how was your not-date last night?”

  Ash had done well not dwelling on it since she and Carmen said goodbye the night before. She’d thrown herself into work at the studio today, even doing extra cleaning and sorting of stock to keep herself busy and her mind not on Carmen. But of course, it was too much to hope that Damian had forgotten all about her evening out. “It was a nice evening, but with a bit of a strange ending.” She shook her head. “She’s a nice person. Runs her own business and she’s interesting and smart. We shared some personal stuff that showed we have more in common than I would have thought, given how obviously different our upbringings are. She’s posh, but not in an arsehole way, you know? Anyway, it was good spending time with her and getting to know someone new.”

  “But…?”

  “But I definitely felt like I’d said or done something wrong at the very end of the night, as we were saying goodbye, because she kind of blew me off. Didn’t really say goodbye, and when I did as she asked and texted her to say I’d got home, I just got an ‘okay, good’ back, but nothing else.”

  “But this is just friendship, right? You’re not pining after this woman, are you?” Damian, for once, looked serious, a rare frown on his face.

  It was tempting to lie, but this was Damian. He knew more about her than anyone else. She’d been sharing everything with him since the Australia trip, and she couldn’t stop now. “I’m…confused,” she said eventually.

  “Ah.”

  “I know.” She slumped in her chair.

  Damian cleared his throat. “I rarely tell you what to do, right?”

  She nodded, wary of what was coming next.

  “And I know you’ve shared a lot with me over the years, and I know there’s stuff you haven’t, and that’s cool.” He pulled at the label of his beer bottle, leaving small flakes of paper in a pile on the table.

  Ash had never seen him so nervous. What was going on?

  “Well,” he continued, “I guess I’m worried. After the way you just talked about this Carmen chick, I’m… Well, I’m worried she’s going to be another Vikki.” He winced as he said the name, as if expecting an outburst.

  Ah . Ash sat back. She wasn’t angry. Actually, she was pretty touched. “She’s not going to be another Vikki. Seriously, I’m just friends with Carmen.” She held up a hand when he made to interrupt. “Yes, she is attractive and fun to be with. I’m not an idiot; I can see that. But I’m not the person I was when we knew Vikki. I’ve learned a lot since then, and it’s all good. You don’t have to worry, okay?”

  Damian leaned forward and rested his elbows on the table. He stared intently at her for a few moments. “All right, then. Good.” He sat back and swigged from his beer. “And at least now I know I definitely did the right thing.”

  “What right thing?”

  Damian squirmed in his seat. “Shit, didn’t mean to say that.” He rubbed at his stubbly chin. “Ugh, I probably should have told you this back then, but I didn’t want to stir up old wounds.”

  He was talking in bloody riddles, and it was annoying the crap out of her. “What are you talking about?”

  Damian puffed out a long breath. “I got a call from Vikki, a few years ago now. She and Dave were getting divorced. She wanted to know if I knew where you were as she’d lost touch. It sounded off. Not sure why, but it just did. So I kinda lied and said I wasn’t in touch with you anymore but agreed to meet her for a drink, for old times’ sake. After three large glasses of wine she was hammered, and it all came spilling out.”

  “What did?”

  He ran a hand over his face. “Ugh, how much she missed you. How much she regretted marrying Dave and hurting you.”

  “She really said that?” Ash didn’t know what to do with this knowledge. It was the last thing she ever expected to hear.

  “Yeah, she did.” Damian snorted. “I never put them together. I mean, she was all bubbly, fun, and sexy for fucking days, and he was…” He shook his head. “A wet mop. Anyway, look, you can tell me I was wrong, but you were going through the shit with Leesa at the time, so that’s why I told her I didn’t know where you were. Well, that and I remember how fucked-up she made you feel after all that went down.”

  Ash held up a hand. “No, no, that’s fine. Thank you. You’re right; there’s no way I would have wanted to get back in touch with her. It would have been…” She shook her head. “No, too messy.”

  The news that Vikki and Dave had divorced didn�
��t surprise her in the slightest. She actually felt bad for both of them. But she had zero regrets about Damian acting as her shield; Vikki was all in the past, and that’s where she would stay.

  “Phew.” Damian threw her a weak smile. “Hey, I’m sorry I compared the situation with Carmen to that. I just got worried you were getting all silly again.”

  “Nope. Silliness is not going to happen. Trust me.” She smiled at him and reached for her beer. Somewhere in the back of her mind, a little voice was asking if she was one hundred per cent sure there was nothing to worry about. Because it was far too easy to think about Carmen and to look forward to when she might see her again.

  Chapter 14

  “Carmen? Carmen! ”

  Carmen blinked a couple of times, and Felicity’s face came into focus once more. “Sorry, what was that?”

  Felicity held up a Hermès scarf and raised her eyebrows. “I asked if you thought this suited me?”

  Carmen glanced once at the scarf, its silk printed in dark blues and greens, and nodded. “Totally.” She had no idea how long she’d drifted off—she hadn’t even known they were looking at scarves.

  They were in Harvey Nichols, finding Felicity a new ensemble for a charity dinner she was hosting in a couple of weeks at the Savoy. It was Thursday evening, only two days after Carmen had spent the evening with Ash at Sloe Down, but it seemed much longer.

  Yes, probably because for some reason that’s all you’ve been able to think about.

  Her work had suffered. Her sleep had been sporadic at best. A few times she’d caught Monica and Beverley exchanging puzzled or worried looks.

  And she’d spent nearly an hour with Felicity already this evening and somehow still hadn’t mentioned to her best friend that she’d had a night out with Ash and that her response to it confused the hell out of her.

  She couldn’t get Ash out of her mind. With no trouble at all she could conjure up that image of her standing on the kerb, hands in her pockets, looking so relaxed and…gorgeous.