The Club

by A. L. Brooks

  Lou had responded to the signals Stephanie had given her. It had clearly taken a lot for Lou to ask, and Stephanie had treated her appallingly. She hadn’t spoken to Lou since, but she would have to soon. They were in the early days of the plan to roll the purchase order system out to the Southampton office, a project Stephanie had been roped into during her first week with the company. They needed to reach a place where they could work together comfortably, and for that to happen, Stephanie needed to apologise for what had occurred last week.

  And she needed to work out a way not to be attracted to Lou so that nothing like this reared its ugly head again.

  * * *

  Lou’s music greeted her as she approached. Dexter Gordon. She took a deep breath and steeled herself.

  When she was a few feet from Lou’s chair, she said, “Knock, knock.”

  Lou looked at her with such pain in her eyes… Stephanie nearly cried.

  “I’m so sorry,” she whispered before her brain could engage to keep the emotion out of her tone. “I shouldn’t have been so rude to you last week, and I’m really sorry if I gave you the wrong impression about…us.” Liar! You gave her the right impression; you’re just too scared to take a chance on where it will lead you.

  Lou nodded slowly, her blush creeping across her neck and face.

  “Can we just forget it—please?” she said in a small voice that ached with something Stephanie couldn’t identify.

  She longed to wrap Lou in her arms and hold her tight. She clenched her hands at her side. Stop it. Fight it. You are not gay. You are not gay.

  Stephanie nodded briskly and pulled up the spare chair.

  “So.” Her business persona instantly slotted back in place. “Southampton—did you get the updated figures I sent you after our meeting with Tania?”

  * * *

  Matt rang her on Wednesday night. He had an uncanny ability to know when she was at her lowest.

  “Hey, sweet pea, how’s life?” His voice, chirpy as ever, instantly put a smile on her face.

  “How do you always do this?” she asked, laughing ruefully. “Do you have a sixth sense or something?” She picked up her glass of wine and took a deeply satisfying gulp.

  “Darling, of course not. I’m just a gorgeous gay man who is so in tune with his BFF that he knows instinctively when she needs a little pick-me-up.”

  Stephanie laughed out loud. “Oh, come on, seriously, what’s the secret?”

  “You were supposed to call me last night. When you miss a call, that’s when I know you have something heavy on your mind that needs discussion. So,” he continued before Stephanie could even begin to apologise, “Friday night, our place. You bring the wine. Jake will cook.”

  * * *

  Matt and Jake lived in a stunning former workman’s cottage in Stockport that they had lovingly restored and decorated as only two affluent gay men could do.

  Matt Pearce was her best friend from uni. They’d both graduated with honours in their business studies degrees and stayed in Manchester after graduation. By then, Matt and Jake were in a serious relationship. Stephanie stayed because she couldn’t face starting anywhere new again, certainly not without Matt, who had become the closest friend she’d ever had.

  Despite Matt’s sexuality, she’d never admitted to him her doubts about her own and her fears for what it would mean for her life. He’d asked her outright once, drunk at a party, and she’d lied. It was the only time she’d ever lied to him, and he never brought it up again.

  Stephanie rang the doorbell to the cottage at just after seven. Matt ushered her in from the cold and grabbed at the wine she held out.

  “Shiraz, fabulous. Jake’s doing some fancy beef stew, so this will be perfect, thanks.”

  She leaned in for the proffered hug and allowed herself to be held tight and rocked ever so slightly. She and Matt were the same height, so she rested her chin on his shoulder as he squeezed her gently. She pulled back before the tears fell. They’d been threatening ever since she left work. Probably since about four o’clock, if she was honest.

  She’d had a follow-up meeting with Lou on the new project, and it had been so hard. She’d tried to tell herself that Lou looked no more gorgeous in dress-down black skinny jeans and a long-sleeved, figure-hugging white tee shirt. It had a V-neck that dipped down just low enough to give a hint of…other things. When she reached for her highlighter pen, the muscles across her shoulders and back had moved beneath the taut fabric. Stephanie’s mouth had gone dry, and she’d wondered what that muscle definition must look like naked. And then she’d nearly choked on her thoughts.

  They’d talked for about an hour, and Stephanie had tried to be friendly. She’d asked if Lou had any plans for the weekend and had been met with a look of hurt and a mumbled response about “doing some stuff around the flat.” It was so hard to know she was the cause of Lou’s pain. Shortly after that, she had left, feeling miserable and without saying much of a goodbye. She’d returned to her office, shut the door, and sat with her head in her hands, trying—and failing dismally—to stop the crazy swirl of thoughts and emotions consuming her brain.

  She stepped away from Matt without meeting his gaze and walked through the open lounge to the kitchen area beyond, where Jake pulled her into an equally close hug.

  “Hey, gorgeous, long time no see,” he said as she stepped back out of the hug. “How about a glass of fizz to start the evening?”

  “Lovely,” she murmured and leaned against the breakfast bar while Matt reached up for fluted glasses from one of the cabinets on the wall and Jake pulled the chilled bottle of champagne from the fridge.

  When they all had a glass in their hands, Matt raised a toast to good friends, and they each took a first hearty swig.

  “Perfect,” said Stephanie after the cool bubbles slipped down her throat. “Thanks, guys. I really needed this.” And then, to her horror, the tears that had been threatening all afternoon spilled out of her eyes without warning. Her boys were both there, holding her close in a hug sandwich, and she couldn’t stop the sobs. She cried for what seemed like hours but was probably only a few minutes.

  They made comforting little noises while one of them stroked her hair and the other stroked her back. They said nothing as they waited for her to quiet and be still. When she finished, Matt took her hand and led her to the sofa. He pulled her down, and they sat on either side of her.

  Jake spoke first. “Time to tell us what’s going on?” His voice, although quiet, seemed loud in the hushed circumstances.

  She nodded and gratefully accepted the tissue Matt passed to her. She blew her nose and used the second tissue he immediately handed over to wipe her eyes.

  She looked up at them, smiling faintly. She couldn’t keep it in any longer.

  “I’ve been fighting this so long, and I don’t want it to be true. It can’t be, but I am getting so tired of fighting, so tired of trying to be something I’m not. And now I’ve met someone, only I’ve fucked it up so badly she’ll probably never want anything to do with me again, and I am so totally lost. I just don’t know what to do.”

  Before Matt could jump in, Jake stilled him with a raised hand. “Let’s be clear about this. What exactly are you fighting and why?”

  She stared at him, at his kind face filled with compassion, then swallowed hard.

  “I think I’m gay, and I don’t want to be.” She started crying again—oh God, it was just too painful. She didn’t want this. She didn’t need her life to be complicated by this. Didn’t need to risk everything she had built with her parents.

  “Why don’t you want to be gay?” Jake again—gently, softly, coaxing.

  “Because it would just about kill my parents, and I can’t do that to them! They mean everything to me, and after what happened with my uncle, I couldn’t put them, Dad especially, through it again.”

  Stephanie’s uncle Terry had been spotted having a…liaison…with another man after dark on Clapham Common in London, back in the
seventies. Word had quickly spread around their community, and Stephanie’s father had soon heard about it. The family row that broke out shortly after was now infamous. Terry bravely came out to his brother, was punched in the face for his “perversion,” and then packed a bag and left home. He was now in Australia, living happily in Sydney with his partner. Stephanie’s dad hadn’t spoken to his brother since.

  “But what happened with Terry was in a different age,” said Jake. “Society was much less understanding and accepting then. Yes, it was awful for your dad to lose contact with his brother, but do you really think that’s what he’d do with you?”

  “I don’t know, I honestly don’t know,” she whispered, shredding the tissue in her hands.

  She thought of all the bigotry her dad—and by silent acquiescence, her mum—had spouted over the years. The vitriolic outbursts about “those disgusting people,” the lectures she’d suffered at age eleven after she’d brought home her best friend from school, Julie. Yes, Julie was a bit of a tomboy, but that meant nothing to Stephanie. Julie was just her best mate. But it had been a massive red flag to her parents and resulted in a ban on ever bringing “that kind of girl” home again. She’d tried to explain it to Julie, but how could she when she didn’t understand it herself?

  Needless to say, her parents had never met Matt and Jake.

  “But what about you in all of this?” Matt asked. “What about what you want, what would make you happy?” She could tell he was trying really hard to keep his voice calm and steady when clearly his emotions were in danger of getting the better of him.

  What did she want? What would make her truly happy?

  Unbidden, an image of Lou’s face popped into her mind’s eye, smiling that gorgeous, shy little smile she wore whenever they talked about non-work stuff. They hadn’t spent a huge amount of time together, and she really didn’t know Lou all that well, but God, she just felt so herself when she let her guard down with Lou. She didn’t have to play games or strive to impress. She didn’t know if it could ever go anywhere, but deep down, the thought of trying was significantly more exciting than it was terrifying.

  She turned to face Matt, took his hand, and squeezed lightly. “I’m sorry I lied to you,” she said, then smiled at his confused expression. “That party in our last month of uni. You got drunk and practically begged me to come out. That was the only time I have ever lied to you. But I’ve been lying to myself for years.” She gripped his hand even tighter. “Now, don’t scream the place down. But there’s a woman I work with called Lou, and I am absolutely crazy about her.”

  A squeak escaped Matt’s lips, and she giggled.

  “I sense there is a ‘but’ at the end of that sentence,” prompted Jake, and she looked at him and nodded.

  “She asked me out.”

  This time Matt let out a whoop.

  “But,” continued Stephanie firmly, “I panicked, said no in a really rude way, and now she will only talk business with me.” She sighed. “God, I hurt her so badly—she’s really shy. I mean, painfully shy. I heard from a few other people at work that she keeps herself shut away in her little cubicle, never speaks to anyone if she can help it, and never socialises with anyone from work. It must have taken so much for her to ask me out, and I just slammed it back in her face, all because I was too scared to admit what I was really feeling.”

  “But can’t you tell her? Just say everything you’ve said to us? Surely if she’s as nice as you think, she’ll listen?”

  “Maybe. But that would require me to have the courage to do it. And she’s shutting me out so hard these days, I don’t know if she’d let me back in anyway. She may not trust me again. Plus, there’s the whole other issue of me being fresh out of the closet and not having a single clue about dating women and…well, you know…the other stuff. Even if I did get to go out with her, she’s clearly been out for a while now, so she’d be so much more…experienced than I am, and, well, it would be, you know…embarrassing.” Or worse, she thought, shuddering inwardly as visions of her worst nightmare crowded her mind.

  She’d always struggled with sex and intimacy. Her parents had drummed into her from an early age that sex before marriage was a sin. Although they had tried to raise her with the same degree of Catholic fervour, she had managed to rebel somewhat over the years. She’d had sex with a handful of guys, and each time had been dreadful. And each time she’d hoped it would be better than the last. It never was.

  Each time, the act had also left her crawling with shame, a residue no doubt left over from her upbringing. No matter how much she tried to rationalise it, and fight her parents’ doctrine, it kept winning through. Sex left her feeling dirty, confused, and…sullied. She dreaded the same would happen if she ever plucked up the courage to be with a woman, dooming her to a life without the intimacy her friends shared with their lovers.

  She stood, her stomach churning. “I-I need to use the bathroom. I won’t be a minute.”

  Before they could answer, she walked quickly out of the room and up the stairs. In the bathroom, she splashed cold water on her face and took some deep cleansing breaths. Then she dried her skin and wiped away the small streaks of mascara under her eyes.

  She made her way back to the top of the stairs but paused when she heard Matt’s raised voice from the room below.

  “—can’t bear to watch her fuck her life up any more. She’s thirty-four next month, and look at her—still fighting what’s inside. And for what? So that she doesn’t upset Mummy and Daddy? What a waste.” The last words fairly spat out of Matt’s mouth.

  “Hey, it’s okay.” Jake’s voice was quieter. “I totally understand your concerns; you know I do. I’m just not sure that club is necessarily the answer.”

  What were they talking about? What club?

  “I know.” Matt’s voice sounded calmer now. “But I guess I thought that if she tried the physical side of it, it would make her realise what she really wanted, and then she might be more inclined to get out and actually date. God knows, we’ve got a long list of potential candidates lined up.”

  Jake laughed. “I know. God, every single lesbian you meet gets added to the bloody Stephanie list. Just don’t push too hard with this club idea, though. It would be a pretty bold move for someone who’s struggling to come to terms with themselves.”

  She was intrigued now. Not only about the apparent list of potential lesbians for her to date—the thought made her giggle with the absurdity of it—but also by this mysterious club they had both mentioned.

  She made some noise coming down the stairs and re-entered the room to silence from the two men. They looked at her with wide-eyed, overly innocent expressions.

  “Are you okay?” asked Jake.

  She nodded, blushing a little, but she wasn’t sure why. They were all silent again.

  Then Matt got the giggles. He raised his eyebrows to Jake and motioned with his head to something across the room.

  “No!” said Jake very firmly.

  “What’s going on?” she asked, looking at first Matt and then Jake.

  “Nothing,” replied Jake, but as he did so, Matt leapt off the sofa and launched himself at the love seat. Jake tried to grab him, but he wiggled free.

  “No, Matt, honestly, that’s really not appropriate right now.” Jake sounded really annoyed, which shocked Stephanie.

  Matt stuck his tongue out at Jake, and Jake stalked off to the kitchen, muttering to himself. When Stephanie looked back at Matt, he was holding out a magazine.

  “What’s this?” she asked suspiciously.

  Matt thrust the magazine into her hand, open to an article, and stood up. “Just read it, darling. I’ll get you a top-up for your fizz.” And he rushed off to the kitchen area, leaving her staring at the magazine.

  It was one of the gay ones that Matt subscribed to. She glanced at the cover, an older issue from the start of the year. She turned back to the small article he’d put in front of her.

  The story was about
a sex club for lesbians here in Manchester. A darkroom experience for women who wanted anonymous, safe sex with no strings. Mix of clientele—regulars and new, those who were curious about sex with a woman as well as those who had already made that life decision quite comfortably. Three rooms, offering three different experiences, depending on your needs or desires. A code of conduct that all clients agreed to, strongly enforced by the management. “No touch” zones for those who just wanted to watch or weren’t quite ready to participate.

  She was so engrossed, she barely registered Matt coming back in with a topped-up glass for her.

  When she finished reading, she dropped the magazine on the seat beside her, sat back, and sipped her champagne. A multitude of thoughts careened around inside her head. Primarily, the idea appealed. Given that her worst nightmare was how she would react to the physical side of a relationship with a woman, it seemed ideal. A completely anonymous introduction to sex with a woman. If she realised she really couldn’t cope, she could just walk away, and no one would get hurt. Maybe she should try this first, and then if—hopefully, when—she could handle it, she could try to restart that fledgling relationship with Lou.

  And then she got the giggles. The thought that she could just walk into a club and have sex with some woman she found in there was utterly and completely ridiculous.

  She walked into the kitchen, and the boys stared at her expectantly.

  “I can see why you wanted me to read it, but seriously, can you see me being brave enough to try it?”

  “I told you,” muttered Jake to Matt, who poked him in the ribs.

  “Look, in theory it’s not a bad idea,” she continued, trying to mollify Matt, whose expression had now taken on a sad puppy look. “But, funnily enough, one of the things I’m most stuck on is the fact that if I was going to get…intimate…with anyone, it wouldn’t be with a stranger. It would be with Lou. I just don’t want anyone else, and I can’t imagine being…that way…with anyone except her.”