by A. L. Brooks
“Sarah!” He leaned forward to kiss both her cheeks. “She didn’t tell me you were coming over.”
Sarah returned his embrace before answering. “She doesn’t know. I just thought I’d pop round and have a cup of tea.”
“Lovely.” He stepped aside so she could enter the house. “I’ll put the kettle on. She’s in the living room.”
Sarah thanked him and walked down the airy hallway to the living room. It was her favourite room in the house, furnished in a tasteful style that hinted at money without being crass about it. It had a large window that faced the garden, and the June sunshine was streaming through it.
Her aunt was reading in her favourite chair by the fireplace, although it was too warm a day to need a fire so the grate was empty. Her pale grey hair looked like it had recently been set, and her skin glowed. As usual she wore a smart pair of trousers with a stylish, zipped blue and red cardigan. Evelyn had always had a certain panache about her that made Sarah glow with pride.
“Hi, Evelyn,” Sarah called as she walked into the room.
Her aunt raised her head and a wide smile lit up her face.
“Ah, my favourite niece. What a lovely surprise.”
She put down her book and stood, using her hands on the arms of the chair to lever herself upright. It took some time, but Sarah didn’t offer to help; Evelyn had told her in no uncertain terms on many occasions that she would ask for help if she needed it. Evelyn never asked.
Sarah winced, watching her struggle. It was hard to see her once-active aunt reduced to having difficulty getting out of chairs. She kept forgetting how old Evelyn was now. At eighty-three—ten years older than Sarah’s father—her mind was still going strong, but her body was not, much to Evelyn’s disgust.
“Come here,” Evelyn said, once she was up and steady. She reached out her arms.
Sarah smiled and walked across the room to accept the hug. They held tight to each other for a few moments, then Evelyn pulled away and gestured to the sofa.
“Sit. Tell me all your latest news. Have you had any conquests recently?”
Sarah snorted, and took the proffered seat. “Evelyn, honestly. You can’t ask me that.”
Evelyn shrugged. “An old lady has to get her kicks somehow, dear.”
Sarah shook her head. “You’re not old. Well, not much.” She grinned as Evelyn gasped in mock horror. “Actually, it’s been a quiet few weeks for me on that front.”
“Lost your mojo?”
Sarah stared at her. “How do you even know what ‘mojo’ means?”
“I am a woman of the world, Sarah dear, even if I am stuck in this chair most of the day. I read The Guardian. I am familiar with all the latest lingo.”
Sarah laughed out loud. “God, Evelyn, you crack me up. Don’t ever change.”
Evelyn winked. “I do not intend to, dear.”
Jonathan appeared, the tray in his hands loaded with all the makings for tea, as well as a plate of biscuits. Placing it on the elegant glass-topped coffee table in front of the sofa, he poured out three cups and passed them round, followed by the plate of biscuits.
“You know I shouldn’t,” Sarah said, as she pinched two ginger nuts and placed them on the saucer.
Jonathan’s gaze performed a once-over sweep of Sarah’s body. “Darling, there’s not an ounce on you. Trust me, you have room.”
He sat next to her. “So, what are we discussing?”
“Sarah’s love life,” Evelyn replied. “She claims she has nothing to tell us.”
Jonathan arched an eyebrow, and Sarah noted with dismay that his were plucked to a perfection she could only dream of.
“Does that mean you may finally have seen the error of your ways? Are you ready to start looking for Ms Right?”
The hopefulness in his voice touched Sarah, but not for long. Long-term relationships were not a possibility for her, not given her history.
“Just having a dry streak,” she said but couldn’t help wincing when his face dropped. She rushed on, staving off what was certain to be a repeat of his usual lecture. “I did meet a woman last night, though.” Sarah directed her comment towards Evelyn, not wishing to see the disappointment in Jonathan’s eyes. “She was kind of cute.”
Evelyn chortled. “That’s my girl. If you fall off the horse, get right back on again.”
Jonathan tutted.
“Something to say, Jonathan dear?” Evelyn inquired, her tone snooty.
He turned to Sarah, who steeled herself as she met his gaze. “Another meaningless fling, I presume?”
He almost spat the word ‘fling’ and Sarah’s hackles rose.
“Actually, she turned me down. So there.” Now, why had she admitted that?
Jonathan smirked. “Hm, maybe you have lost your mojo. Or the universe is trying to tell you something.”
“Jonathan, I love you like the camp gay brother I never had, but you really need to get off this train.”
She picked up one of the ginger nuts and crammed it into her mouth.
“Exactly,” Evelyn jumped in, her tone triumphant. “If my darling niece wishes to play the field, she has every right to. Settling down is overrated.”
Jonathan put his teacup down on the coffee table and sighed.
“Honestly, Sarah. I despair. You are such a wonderful person. You would make some lucky woman a gorgeous wife.” Sarah flinched at the word, but Jonathan ploughed on. “And I don’t understand why you keep just sleeping around.”
Sarah swallowed her mouthful of biscuit. “Life isn’t a Disney movie, Jonathan.” Her voice had risen in volume. “Just because you believe in all that Prince Charming crap, and are holding out for a Mr Right to come and sweep you off your feet, doesn’t mean that it appeals to the rest of us.”
“Hear, hear!” Evelyn chimed.
“And you don’t help either,” Jonathan said, pointing at Evelyn. “Encouraging her to live this wild life.”
Evelyn grinned, her eyes sparkling. “Sarah is a free spirit and she always has been. I merely offer her an alternative viewpoint to your more saccharine take on things.”
Jonathan threw his hands up. “Honestly, you two will be the death of me,” he said, standing. “What’s wrong with romance and love? And happy ever after?”
Sarah reached out and patted his leg. “Nothing,” she said, tugging his jeans until he turned round to face her. “For other people. Just not for me.”
“But that’s the thing that frustrates me the most about all this,” he said, pouting. “I actually think it would be exactly what you’d like, if only you’d give it a chance.”
Sarah shuddered. “Nope. Definitely not. I’d rather focus on finding you your Prince Charming, actually. There’s a gorgeous new guy down in Accounts. I’m convinced he’s family. He might be just your type. Well, physically at least.”
Jonathan recoiled, his eyes wide. “Oh, no,” he said, backing away. “Not another one of your work set ups. I’m not sure I’ve recovered from the last one.”
“Hey look, that wasn’t my fault, okay?” Sarah insisted. “How was I supposed to know he was lacking in the personal grooming department?”
“Sarah, he had nose hair longer than his actual nose. How could you not have noticed?”
Evelyn guffawed, and both Sarah and Jonathan turned to look at her.
“Is my torment somehow amusing to you, Evelyn?” Jonathan asked, his tone snide.
“Very,” the older woman said, reaching for another biscuit. “This is much better than Saturday night television.”
Sarah laughed, and in moments Jonathan was joining in.
“You’re a terrible old woman,” he said, wagging a finger at Evelyn.
She shrugged. “I know. But I find I do not care.”
Jonathan turned to Sarah. “What’s a poor gay man to do?”
“She loves you, you know that. She wouldn’t have kept you on all these years if she didn’t.”
There was a harrumph from across the room, and Sarah winked at Jonathan.
He smiled and leaned down to give her a quick hug. “Stay for lunch, as you’re here?”
She nodded. “Why not? Thanks.”
“Right, I’ll go and potter in the kitchen. Throw something together.” He paused to look at her, his gaze penetrating, and said quietly, “I meant what I said, you know. I do really think that you’d be happier if you found the one and stopped all this shagging around.”
Sarah sighed. “I can’t, Jonathan. I just…can’t.”
“What a waste,” he said, shaking his head and walking away.
Chapter 4
The cooled cake was pretty on its stand, the sofa cushions were as plumped as they could be given the age of the things, and the room smelled fresh and sweet from the small vase of freesias on the window sill. Bethany smiled—she was looking forward to her mum’s visit. It had been two weeks since they’d seen each other, thanks to conflicts in their schedules, and that was the longest they’d gone all year.
Alice Keane was possibly Bethany’s favourite person in the world. Her mother was intelligent, witty, and had cheerfully raised her brood of three almost single-handedly since her husband died when Bethany was nine. Alice had never remarried, never even looked. Robert Keane had been her one, she said, and you only got one of those in a lifetime. Alice had had plenty of help in those first few years after his death in bringing up their children—both she and Robert came from large families, so Bethany and her siblings had a mass of aunties, uncles and cousins. Bethany had been surrounded by family for as long as she could remember, but it was always her mother who held the biggest place in her heart.
When the buzzer rang she pressed the intercom button to let her in, and opened the front door to her flat just as her mum was climbing the stairs up from the ground floor hallway. She was looking good in cropped jeans and thin sweater, her thick brown hair pinned back with a barrette.
“Hello, love,” Alice said, her smile wide.
“Hi, Mum. So glad you’re here.”
They hugged on the doorstep, then Bethany led the way into the living room. Her mum sat on the sofa, while Bethany popped the kettle on in the adjoining kitchen and came back to talk while it boiled.
“How have you been?”
“Not too bad, love. Working my behind off, of course.”
“Of course.” Bethany smiled and shook her head. Her mum had a part-time job and served in a voluntary basis on the board of a local community group, and although she complained constantly about being overworked, Bethany knew she wouldn’t have it any other way. Alice revelled in being useful.
“And you? Work still okay? The little buggers haven’t defeated you yet?”
Bethany chuckled. “No, and they never will. I love them.”
“You’re a saint,” her mum muttered. “I couldn’t do it.”
“Actually, I think you could. You did a great job with me and my brothers, after all.”
“That’s different—you were my own, so I could shout at you as much as I liked when you did something insane or dangerous. Doubt it would be the same with other people’s children.”
“Yes, you do have a point there.” Bethany laughed. “I’m very good at counting to ten under my breath.” She stood as she heard the kettle reach its zenith in the kitchen. “Back in a tick.”
She made a large pot of tea—she and her mother were always two cups kind of women when they got together—and brought it out on a tray with a proper little milk jug and sugar bowl. Then she turned back to the kitchen to retrieve the cake, and was rewarded with a pleasing “oooh” when she placed it on the small table in front of the sofa.
“That looks delicious,” her mum said, rubbing her hands together.
“I hope so.” Bethany handed her the knife. “Care to do the honours?”
“Always.”
Alice cut into the red velvet cake, carving out a generous slice for each of them and transferring the pieces with care to the small plates Bethany had brought out on the tea tray.
They munched on the cake and sipped their tea for a couple of minutes, content in their comfortable silence.
“So, what else is going on in your world?” Alice asked.
“Oh, not much.”
Except for going to a sex shop, buying a vibrator, and being propositioned by a gorgeous but completely irritating woman who acted like I was some pathetic damsel in need of saving.
“What?” Her mum was staring intently. “There’s something you’re not telling me.”
Damn it. Alice had always been far too good at that. She could always lie, of course. But this was her mother.
“Um, so I kind of got asked out last night.”
Yes, let’s focus on that bit rather than the rest of it.
Alice smiled wide and slapped her free hand down on her knee. “That’s fantastic! When are you seeing her?”
“Whoa, Mum, let’s slow down a little. I didn’t actually say yes.”
“What?” Her mum’s face fell comically, from joy to dismay in less than a second. “Was she ugly?”
Bethany had just taken the last small bite of her piece of cake and nearly snorted it out through her nose.
“Mum!” She shook her head. “No, she wasn’t ugly. Far from it, actually.”
“Okay, young lady, start at the beginning.”
Bethany sighed. It was worse than the Spanish Inquisition when her mum got started like this, and she knew there’d be no escape from telling her the whole truth. Her cheeks warmed in anticipation. Maybe she could keep the fact that a sex shop was involved out of the discussion…
“Okay, so I went shopping on the way home from work. I first met her outside, and she was just, God, so cocky and full of herself and, ugh, really irritating. Then I dropped my handbag and suddenly she was really helpful and…nice. Then I was in the shop, comparing two….products to see which one I preferred and she, Sarah, offered me some advice.”
“Advice? Who gives advice in a shop to a virtual stranger?”
Oh, God. Her mum was like a terrier with a bone when a story didn’t quite add up.
“Um, well, it was kind of a specialist shop, and she had, you know, specialist knowledge.”
“Right.” Her mum drew the word out, looking sceptical.
Oh, bloody hell.
“Look, it was…it was a sex shop, Mum.”
Bethany’s cheeks were on fire, and the heat spread to her neck within moments.
Alice blinked twice, and her mouth made a strange little contorted shape before she took a deep breath and said, “Go on.”
Pressing her palms to her face to try to lower the heat it was emitting, which could have boiled them another pot of tea if it continued, Bethany breathed in before carrying on with the story.
“It’s a great shop, not one of those seedy places in Soho,” she said quickly, noticing her mum’s raised eyebrows. “It’s women-run, and it’s very welcoming to lesbians.”
Alice nodded, sipping her tea.
“So, well, I was looking at something—please don’t make me tell you what it was—and Sarah offered me her advice and then, well, she said she found me very attractive and she’d like to ask me out for a drink.”
“And you said no?” There was no judgement in her mum’s tone, merely curiosity.
Bethany exhaled. “It really threw me. I mean, for starters, she was beyond annoying at first. Plus we’d only just met. I know nothing about her, except she’s gorgeous, and clearly knows her way around a sex shop.”
Alice snorted, and clapped a hand over her mouth.
Bethany scowled at her.
“And, you know, I’m only just getting used to the idea of
dating again, so I’m not going to accept just the first offer that comes my way, am I? Especially when I got such confusing signals from her.”
“Well.” Alice shrugged. “I mean, unless you got any kind of vibe off Sarah that she was a bit, you know, weird, why not go for that drink with her?”
“Really? Even after she irritated me?”
Alice laughed. “It sounds to me like she redeemed herself with her, um, advice.”
Bethany blushed again, her mind suddenly filled with images of Sarah—her strong, beautiful face, her gorgeous smile.
“What?” Alice asked, bringing Bethany back to the present.
“What?”
“You disappeared on me for a moment there.”
“Oh. Well. Yes.” She cleared her throat. “I was just kind of thinking about her.”
Alice smiled. “That’s a shame given that you turned her down. Well, I’m sure there will—”
“She gave me her card.”
Alice’s smile froze on her face. “Oh, she did, did she?”
Bethany nodded, her mind working a mile a minute.
“So, are you going to call her?” Alice’s tone was overly casual as she reached for the last bite of her cake and mopped up the crumbs with a wet fingertip. “Mm, so good,” she mumbled.
“Thank you. I always enjoy making a red velvet.”
“And avoiding my questions,” Alice said with a smirk.
“I wasn’t avoiding, Mum. Merely…stalling,” she admitted, and laughed when Alice threw her a death stare, her hazel eyes narrowed. “Okay. So, yes, I am considering calling her.”
“Okay.” Alice reached for the teapot and refilled both their cups. “Why not? You don’t have to look at it as a date. You can just take it as it is, one drink with someone you got talking to in a shop. I mean, the fact that it was a sex shop doesn’t have to mean anything.”