by Clare Ashton
‘Pia Benitez-Smith,’ she said in that silky voice that caressed Pia inside. She smiled down at her shirt. ‘How is your day?’
Pia couldn’t speak.
Cate reached out with tentative fingers to hold Pia’s hand. She gazed into her eyes. ‘I’m hoping you’re not here by accident,’ she said gently.
Pia shook her head, still unable to speak.
‘Do we have a chance?’ Cate was almost shy.
‘Please,’ Pia blurted out. ‘I’m so sorry.’
‘Why are you sorry?’
‘Because I never even said I love you, and I haven’t thought of anything other than loving you since we met.’
Cate looked at her, worried. ‘Can you forgive me?’ She drew closer to Pia. ‘For not making the right choice at the right time? There wasn’t anybody except you since that day.’
‘I know that now.’ Pia leaned in. The warmth and closeness of Cate made her feel dizzy.
‘I love you Pia,’ Cate whispered.
Pia felt the words stroke her lips in a breath. Dazed with enchantment she let her head fall into the slight gap between Cate and her.
Cate caught her fall. Their soft lips met in an exquisite touch. Pia closed her eyes and was aware of only where their two bodies met, their lips tingling as they kissed. The feeling glowed all the way to her core. Her body was light with happiness, as if she might float away should Cate let her go. Their lips drifted apart without Pia realising, and it took Cate’s fingers stroking her cheek to revive her.
Pia gulped. ‘What are we going to do?’
Cate smiled at her, pure uncomplicated love in her expression. ‘Come with me. Just come with me.’ A glint of excitement sparkled in her expression.
‘How can I?’
Cate squeezed her hands. ‘Come with me to Paris. We’ll get a tourist visa to New York and we can work things out from there. Can you leave the magazine?’
Pia was sheepish. ‘I think I might have been sacked. But I still need a passport.’ Her shoulders fell despondent. The thought of having to spend another second away from Cate was painful.
She heard a cough and turned round. Ed, her mother and Lady Wynne, who had descended from the Champagne bar, were all watching from a short distance. And her mother was waving a passport in the air.
‘We nipped home. Just in case.’ Her mama grinned.
Pia glanced down at her dirty T-shirt and stained jeans. ‘I need to get something to wear though. How long until the train?’
Her mother gave her a satisfied smile. ‘I thought of that too.’ She walked towards her holding out a small rucksack. ‘Enough for you to elope with, and I should know.’
She handed over the bag and kissed Pia on the cheek. As she stepped back she addressed Cate. ‘Take care of her. She needs it sometimes.’
‘Oh Mama. Is this OK?’
‘Of course.’ She clasped her hands together. ‘I couldn’t wish for anything better for my Pia.’
Cate touched her arm. ‘I’m so sorry. We need to hurry though.’
Pia held Cate’s hand and peeped over her shoulder one last time to see Ed, Wynne and her mother all waving them goodbye. They started to walk and she turned to Cate, apprehensive.
She saw the same look of nervous excitement in her eyes. Cate grinned, unreserved happiness on her face and Pia caught her infectious joy. She laughed as they ran under the great sky of St Pancras swinging their hands together.
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Acknowledgements
I’m very grateful for the help and patience of some very good people.
Most patient of all was Jayne Fereday through relentless rereads and grilling for feedback and she also tarted up the final version. As well as being an ex-rocket scientist and a copyeditor she also does a mean book cover.
Extended family Fereday should also be thanked. Pat and Roger provided baby-sitting duties which allowed valuable writing time, otherwise this novel would have taken a decade to write. They also supplied artwork for the lovely cover.
I want to thank Kiki Archer for being that super positive soul and getting me back on track when I needed it. Cindy Rizzo for spotting some nasty slips and giving valuable New Yorker insight. And Eileen Taylor for being a willing and encouraging early reader with essential feedback.
I’m especially grateful to Chris Paynter whose comments have greatly helped me to polish later drafts, and to whom I should apologise for excessive adverbs in this sentence (adverbage?). And Diana Simmonds who suffered the early drafts and last-minute polishing with typical good humour and spot-on advice – yes axe-wielding isn’t great foreplay now I come to think of it. These are two great writers whose influence on this novel is obvious.
All remaining issues are my own.
And Jayne, Ellie and Joe, I promise this is the last book. After just the next one, because I have this really good idea…
About the Author
Clare Ashton's first novel, Pennance, was long-listed for the Polari Prize and After Mrs Hamilton is a Golden Crown Literary Society award winner.
Clare grew up in Mid-Wales and lives in Birmingham with her partner, Jayne, and their two children, Joe and Ellie, who are a lovely distraction from writing. She has a brain stuck somewhere not particularly useful between the arts and science. And that's how she ended up studying History and Philosophy of Science at Cambridge. Before being a mum and writer she worked as a scientific copyeditor (where she learnt to spell diarrhoea), a waitress at the Little Chef (where she learnt you could survive on toast alone) and as a software engineer (where she learnt to spend far too much time on a computer).
She is sometimes accused of living too much inside her head, but it turns out that this is good for writing stories. Her novels are a mix of suspense, romance, humour and darker elements too.
She also edits the UK lesbian fiction blog with Cari Hunter: http://uklesfic.wordpress.com
Also by Clare Ashton
Pennance
After Mrs Hamilton
The Dildo in the Kitchen Drawer - a short story of jealousy and slippery fingers
Find out more about Clare
http://rclareashton.wordpress.com
https://www.facebook.com/pages/Clare-Ashton/327713437267566