She turned around and saw Nicola walking towards her, a bag slung over her shoulder and her motorcycle helmet under her arm.
“I did,” she agreed. “I’m still not sure why I’m here, but a deal is a deal.”
Nicola stopped in front of her. “I’ll make you another deal.”
Fiona folded her arms. “Oh, yes?”
“You came, which many people wouldn’t,” Nicola said. “If you want to go, you can leave now and have your Friday evening back. Go and do whatever it is you do on a Friday night. Not clubbing as we ascertained earlier, watching the Antiques Roadshow, perhaps.”
Fiona frowned. “You just wanted to see if I’d come?”
Nicola shrugged. “No, I’d like you to come inside and see what we do here and get involved. But I’m giving you the option to go home, if you’d like. You’ve shown that you’re willing, but if you want to go, then that’s fine. I’ll still come back to Honey.”
Fiona couldn’t fathom what Nicola’s game was. Had she just dragged her halfway across London as a joke? Was she genuinely offering for her to get her evening back?
“And if I don’t want to leave now?” Fiona didn’t even know why she was asking. The smart thing to do would be to go home, get her heels off her aching feet, and binge-watch the new Nordic noir show she’d seen on Netflix a few weeks earlier.
Nicola smiled brightly. “Do you want to stay?”
“I don’t know what I want,” Fiona admitted. She looked around the car park. There were people milling around, parents and children. She was intrigued to find out what went on, and to spend some more time with Nicola. So far, she’d managed to avoid disaster. Maybe her luck was changing when it came to communicating with the photographer.
Nicola chuckled. “Well, I hope you figure it out soon. It’s about to rain.” She turned around and walked towards the main entrance.
Fiona looked around for a moment, chewing the inside of her cheek. She really wanted to go home, she was so tired. But then she said she’d come, and she wanted to know more. Nicola intrigued her, and the opportunity to spend some quality time with her was one that wouldn’t come up again.
“Okay, I’m coming,” she called after Nicola.
Nicola slowed down and threw a smile over her shoulder.
This woman will be the death of me, Fiona thought.
Fiona wasn’t great at identifying how old children were. If she had to guess, she’d say the group surrounding Nicola were between four and seven. But she’d not be surprised if she was informed that her guess was completely wrong. Really, she made it her mission to avoid children. Not because she didn’t like them. She was just worried they wouldn’t like her.
Nicola was perched on a tiny wooden stool, one clearly made for children. Around her were fifteen eager-looking faces.
“So, what did we talk about last time? Anyone remember?” she asked.
Hands shot up in the air. One boy in particular looked like he’d suffer an aneurism if he didn’t get picked.
“Charlie?” Nicola asked, pointing to the boy.
“Shadows!”
“That’s right. Shadows, sometimes called light and shade,” she said. “Can anyone remember why light and shade are important?”
All hands lowered. A small girl at the front of the group tentatively raised her hand.
“Callie?” Nicola asked.
“Because you need to know where the sun or the lights are, so you can take good pictures?”
“That’s right. You wouldn’t want to take a really good picture, and no one can see it because it was too dark, would you?”
All the children murmured their agreement.
Nicola reached into her bag and pulled out some large prints to show to the group. As she went through the photos, she explained where the light was coming from and how it affected the picture. The pictures were of animals, playgrounds, balls, teddy bears, and landscapes. Nicola asked questions, and the group attempted to answer.
“Hi.” One of the mothers had approached Fiona.
“Hello.”
“I don’t think I’ve seen you here before?” she said.
“I’m with Nicola, just helping out,” Fiona said.
“Ah, I see. I’m Annie’s mum, Julie.”
Annie the troublemaker, Fiona thought, if Nicola was telling the truth.
Fiona shook her hand and introduced herself.
“Nic’s great with the kids, they love her,” Julie said. “And it’s good because things like light and shade will come up in KS2 soon.”
“Really?” Fiona was surprised. She’d never learnt about light and shade when she was at school. Admittedly, that had been some time ago.
“Yes, part of science, as well as art,” Julie explained. “But it won’t be as much fun as this when they learn it in school. Plus, they get to apply being creative to science here. They learn that the two complement each other. When I was at school we were told it was either-or, but it’s not really like that anymore, is it?”
Fiona hummed. She wasn’t sure, she’d never given it much thought. Nicola was busy helping the children make shadow puppets with their hands and the aid of a desk lamp. She had to admit, it was an adorable sight.
“Would you mind helping me plate up some food for the kids?” Julie asked.
“Sure.” Fiona had expected to be roped into something. Plating up food seemed like quite a simple task and Julie was nice enough.
She was starting to see the appeal of the community centre. The building may have been in need of a lick of paint from the outside, but inside was another matter. The rooms were decorated in bright colours and full of life.
A few of the other parents helped to set up the food for the kids. Fiona made polite small talk with them, all the while listening to Nicola’s lesson. It was a world away from her workday at Honey. She’d gone from happily informing Helen that all ad space in the next two issues were fully booked to opening packs of chicken bites and putting them on paper plates.
Once Nicola was finished with her practical lesson, the kids started to eat. She packed away some things and walked over to where Fiona was standing.
“So? What do you think?”
“You were right,” Fiona said, eyes trained on a small girl. “Annie is a troublemaker, she’s claiming she doesn’t eat meat, but I saw her eat a sausage roll.”
Nicola laughed. “Yeah, she’s a pain. Reminds me of myself when I was growing up.”
“I bet you were an angel,” Fiona said.
“Not really. My parents were very determined that I’d become an engineer, like my father. They knew the business, knew it would be a stable income for me, and knew I could work with Dad.” Nicola leaned against the wall. “Thing was, I didn’t want to be an engineer. I had this passion inside me to be creative. But engineering is about the least creative profession you can be in.”
“Looks like you won the argument?” Fiona asked.
“Sort of,” Nicola said. “I changed my college subjects without telling my parents. I hid my coursework from them for ages, then one day they found out. Instead of doing advanced mathematics and engineering, I was taking art, creative writing, and photography.”
Fiona’s jaw dropped. “That must have been a bad day.”
“They threatened to kick me out of the house unless I changed my studies. Which I did,” Nicola explained. “I worked hard, finished the courses and qualified to get into engineering school. Then I ran away from home, got a job at a fast-food restaurant, and lived in a house share. Eight of us in a four-bedroom house. I was like Harry Potter, living under the stairs.”
Fiona couldn’t imagine. Her parents hadn’t been very happy when she’d come out, and there had been a couple of silent evenings at the dinner table. But they had never argued worse than that.
“I worked two jobs during the day,” Nicola explained. “From very early to around dinner time. Then I attended a college that ran free courses on art most evenings. I didn’t care what they w
ere teaching, I just wanted to be able to learn about art.”
Nicola took Fiona’s arm in her hand and pulled her out of the main room and into the corridor. Fiona frowned and looked at her questioningly once they were alone.
“The day we fought… I was helping Chloe because that’s what I do. A lot of people miss out on the opportunity to learn about art at school, or college. They are so tied up with learning a trade to get a job, they don’t even think about that creative output that we all need.”
Nicola huffed and ran a hand through her hair. “I overreacted because it’s so important to me that people get a chance when it comes to art. People gave up their time to teach me when I was young, and I had nothing, and my hair smelt of grease from working eight-hour shifts in shitty restaurants. I made a promise to myself there and then that if I ever made something of my life, I’d give that time back and more. I’d do whatever I could to help others find that creativity. I know you feel you need to apologise to me, but I need to apologise to you as well. I overreacted, and hopefully now you understand some of why.”
Fiona reached up and played with her necklace. Her mind raced. Nicola was offering her an apology, and an explanation?
“You have nothing to apologise for,” Fiona insisted. “I was completely in the wrong, I take full responsibility. I see there were extenuating circumstances in the way you reacted, but clearly it was me who was wrong and not you.”
There was a blush on Nicola’s cheeks. “I just needed to be honest and explain. That kind of reaction, it’s not like me.”
“We were both having an off-day,” Fiona agreed.
“I never would have really left Honey. I love working for you girls,” Nicola admitted.
Fiona laughed. “So why did you go through all of this and make me come here?”
“Isn’t it obvious?” Nicola asked. Her eyes shone brightly, her expression was intense.
Fiona stared at her. Her lungs felt like they might burst at the sudden change in atmosphere. “No?” she whispered.
Nicola stepped forward and pressed a soft kiss to Fiona’s cheek.
“Nic?” Someone called out from the main room.
“Sorry. Duty calls,” Nicola murmured before leaving Fiona alone in the empty corridor.
Fiona licked her dry lips. Her legs trembled. She was glad Nicola had left so she could have her mini-breakdown in private.
Nicola hadn’t asked her to the community centre to punish her. She’d asked her so she could apologise and explain what she saw as her own overreaction. Fiona was honoured that Nicola would share something that was seemingly very private and clearly still very raw. Not to mention that kiss, which Fiona was reeling from.
“There you are,” Julie said as she peeked her head into the corridor.
“Here I am,” Fiona replied shakily.
“I was wondering if you would mind helping the kids with the art project. The scissors are pretty blunt, but that doesn’t stop some of them from trying to cut their hair.”
“Of course,” Fiona agreed. She walked back towards the main room.
When she got inside, her eyes immediately sought out Nicola’s. She was in conversation with a couple of parents but looked at Fiona and smiled, a light blush touching her fair cheeks. Fiona returned the smile, pleased that she wasn’t the only one nervous about this new step in their relationship.
Fiona wanted nothing more than to rush over and ask what it all meant. What had just happened, what might happen next? But now wasn’t the time.
“Will you help me with my stickers? I need an adult.”
She looked down to see a little boy staring up at her. He held a sheet of stickers in his pudgy hands.
“Um. Sure.”
He took her hand and led her across the room towards a table. She glanced up and saw Nicola grinning.
It can wait, she told herself. We’ve waited this long.
Chapter Forty-Two
“To your first full week!” Darcy raised her glass towards Chloe.
“The first full week,” Rose, Lucy, and Kim chimed in.
Chloe raised her glass. Drinks softly clinked over the table, and everyone took a sip.
“I mean, we didn’t think you’d get here,” Darcy joked. “Considering you were trying to get yourself fired by Wednesday.”
Chloe laughed along and held up her hands. “Yeah, I made some mistakes.”
“I was nearly made redundant,” Lucy added.
“To be fair, babe, you were going to be made redundant before Chloe put her foot in it,” Kim said.
“Yeah.” Rose looked up from her phone. “In fact, Chloe saved your ass, so you need to buy her another drink, pronto.” She quickly lowered her head back to her phone. No one knew if she was still working on Honey’s social media, or if it was personal.
“You’re right, I do.” Lucy stood up. “Another of the same?” She pointed to Chloe’s rum and coke.
“Yes, please,” Chloe said.
Lucy took a quick drinks order from the rest of the table before heading off to the bar. Kim watched her girlfriend go with the look of someone truly besotted.
“Looking forward to moving in together?” Chloe asked.
Word had spread around the office fast that Lucy and Kim were taking their relationship to more solid ground. Chloe was happy for them, they seemed to be a good fit.
“I can’t wait,” Kim admitted gleefully. “I mean, we don’t know where that will be yet. I think we’ve ruled out all of London, Essex, and Surrey at the moment.”
“You need to lower your expectations,” Darcy said.
“That’s easy for you to say, you don’t need to look at the price tag when looking at where you’re going to live.” Kim playfully elbowed her in the side.
Chloe had gotten the impression that Darcy had money, or maybe her family did.
“Of course I do,” Darcy denied. “Maybe not as much as some people, but just like you, I can’t live where I want.”
“In Celia’s house,” Rose quipped without looking up from her phone.
Chloe and Kim laughed hard at Darcy’s deep blush. Darcy reached across the table and ran her finger over Rose’s phone screen, causing chaos to whatever she might have been doing.
“Hey!” Rose looked up and gave her a good-humoured glare.
“So,” Kim looked at Chloe. “You’ll be back on Monday?”
“Absolutely, wouldn’t miss it,” Chloe said. It was true. It had been a week of more ups and downs than she could remember in a long time. But Honey was starting to feel like home, and the people around the table like her family.
“Good, Pippa wants to talk to you about the new digital subscriptions,” Kim said.
Chloe rolled her eyes and chuckled. “Ah, Pippa, the one reason why I might not come back on Monday.”
“We’ve all been there,” Rose agreed.
Lucy returned with a tray of drinks. “All been where?” she asked before sitting herself in Kim’s lap.
“Dealing with Pippa,” Darcy said.
“Say no more,” Lucy said with a grimace. She turned and kissed Kim. “Missed you.”
Darcy looked at Chloe and rolled her eyes. “I feel queasy.”
“It’s sweet,” Chloe said.
Suddenly a loud rumble of thunder sounded from outside the pub. The skies opened, and heavy blobs of rain splattered down onto the windows. Everyone in the pub cheered boisterously, raising glasses in a toast to the storm that had been brewing all day. As much as everyone loved the sun, they were also relieved that the intense heatwave had finally broken.
Chloe tore her eyes from the windows and noted that Kim and Lucy were still kissing, unaware of the celebration going on around them.
“I want that,” she said to Darcy as she pointed at the two lovebirds.
“Me too,” Rose chimed in.
Kim and Lucy finally broke their lip lock and had the decency to look embarrassed at losing themselves in such a personal moment in such a public space.
“Not seeing anyone at the moment?” Darcy asked.
“No.”
“Eye on someone?” Darcy looked at her knowingly. Chloe wouldn’t have been surprised if Darcy could detect a kindred spirit. At the start of the week she had almost pitied Darcy for her crush. Now she was in the same boat, thankfully with her gaze on a different older woman.
“Maybe,” she allowed.
The table erupted in a series of questions and wolf whistles. Chloe felt heat rising from her cheeks. She held up her hands to quieten everyone down, to no avail.
Yes, she had found her new family. Not blood but chosen. Just like she had always hoped when she had first picked up a copy of Honey magazine all those years ago.
* * *
THE END
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I adore publishing. There’s a wonderful thrill that comes from crafting a manuscript and then releasing it to the world. Especially when you are writing woman loving woman characters. I’m blessed to receive messages from readers all over the world who are thrilled to discover characters and scenarios that resemble their lives.
Books are entertaining escapism, but they are also reinforcement that we are not alone in our struggles. I’m passionate about writing books that people can identify with. Books that are accessible to all and show that love—and acceptance—can be found no matter who you are.
I’m at the beginning of my writing career and have already published over ten books, have attained best-seller status around the world, and am a Lambda award winner. I have plans to write many, many more novels. However, writing, editing, and marketing books take up a lot of time… and writing full-time is a treadmill-like existence, especially in a very small niche market like mine.
Don’t get me wrong, I feel very grateful and lucky to be able to live the life I do. But being a full-time author in a small market means never being able to stop and work on developing my writing style, it means rarely having the time or budget to properly market my books, it means immediately picking up the next project the moment the previous has finished.
Climbing the Ladder Page 19