Chapter 4 of ‘Come and Go’
CHAPTER FOUR Friday, 2 September 2011 She told me on a Friday night. It had been drizzling all week, and Stella wanted to see a movie. Watching blockbusters was her hobby. She preferred her entertainment as brainless as possible. She claimed to use up all her focus at work—I’m sure that changed once CJ arrived. I had been waiting outside the movie theatre for half an hour when she finally showed up. I was annoyed, but by the time she kissed me I was so happy to see her, I camouflaged it behind a smile. I could tell she came straight from work because she wore her light grey pencil skirt, a navy blouse firmly tucked in. When she kissed me she tasted of raspberries and honey. She apologised profusely for the delay, and we both agreed it was too late for the movie. We hated it when people ventured into the theatre even five minutes after lights-out. I invited her for dinner at my place instead, which meant I called my favourite Thai restaurant before we got into a cab. After dinner I was so turned on by the sight of her blouse clinging to her waist, not an inch of space between them, I wanted to rip it off her. Instead of slowing me down and making me wait for it, like she usually did, it was as if she wanted to get it over with as quickly as possible. Her lips felt raw against mine, her touch brutal. We didn’t even make it to the bedroom. I straddled her as she lay on her back in my couch and stared down into her eyes. * * * Unable to face a sleepless night at home with only re-runs of Law & Order SVU on TV to console me, I had joined the boys on their habitual inebriated Friday night odyssey. I traipsed behind Toby, Ryan and Oliver, my brothers in arms and times of defeat, from Psychic Jack to T:me to Zoo, and my lesbian gaydar remained alarmingly silent. I had tried calling Charlie, but it had gone straight to voice-mail every time—he was probably off on a hot date with Daniel. “Hey, is that Charlie?” Ollie almost shouted. His enthusiasm once again betraying his emotions. Charlie looked up from across the road, his crazy friend Robin in tow. Thanks for reading! If you’d like more, please visit comeandgothenovel.com to buy ‘Come and Go’ as e-book (2.99USD) or paperback (12.99USD)
“Was this brainless enough for you?”
She didn’t reply. She just blinked and swallowed hard. That’s when I realised something was wrong. Not before, when she was late and didn’t even text me. Not half an hour ago, when she nearly bit me instead of kissing me. Not two days earlier, when she called to say she had to work late and couldn’t make it to my place like we had agreed. Not a week before, when she cleverly disinvited me from a junk trip we were supposed to go on together, claiming I would only be bored.
We sat up in the couch, the only sound the hum of the AC. She turned her face away from me and looked out of the window even though it was dark and all she could see was her own reflection.
“I’ve met someone else, Lee. I’m so sorry.”
We were both still naked. She got up and started to get dressed, but I pulled her hands away from her clothes. Her panties fell on the rug. She still couldn’t face me.
“Who?”
“Someone at work, someone new.”
I fell back into the sofa and watched her get dressed. I couldn’t be bothered to put my clothes back on. If she was going to hurt me she might as well do it while I was at my weakest, naked, stripped bare.
“Are you breaking up with me?” I pulled my knees up to my chin. “If you are, please do me the courtesy of looking at me while you do.”
She sat down next to me. I wanted to touch her. I wanted to make the moment go away, rewind.
“I—”
“Have you been fucking her behind my back? Is that why you can’t look me in the eye?”
“I never meant for this—”
“I can’t believe this. How long?” I knew. Suddenly I was certain she had been double-crossing me.
“Not long. Let’s not make this harder than it has to be.”
“Harder for whom?”
Silence again.
“What’s her name?”
“CJ. She’s an intern in my division. She started working for me two months ago.”
“And you’re leaving me for her?”
“I’m sorry.”
“Just say it. Say that you’re breaking up with me for a girl named CJ. How old is she anyway, if she’s only an intern?”
“I know this hurts. I wish I didn’t have to put you through this. I really do.” She fiddled with her fingers. Why should it be easy for her?
“Then don’t. Forget about CJ.” She started to say something, then thought better of it. Then it hit me.
“Are you in love with her?”
Slowly, she moved her head up and down.
“You should go.”
“I’ll go but I want you to know that—”
“That what, Stella? That it’s not my fault you fell for someone else? That I shouldn’t blame myself? Just leave.”
She grabbed her stuff. She left her bracelet on the table, but I didn’t tell her. Before she shut the door she turned around one more time. “It’s my fault, Lee. I know that. I’m so very sorry.”
The door fell in the lock with a bang, the signal for the tears to start streaming. Still naked, I picked up Stella’s bracelet and put it on, twirled it around my wrist a couple of times. Then I ripped it off and threw it on the floor. I had been in Hong Kong for more than a year, and love had not been an easy find—Stella had been my first here. And now she was gone.
“Where are the bloody lesbians in this town?” I said for the twelfth time, my words beginning to slur. “Boys, come on, find me one. Fetch your queen a lesbian.” We were at Zoo, a loud crowded mini-club where no one danced and I had no idea what I was doing there. The boys feasted their eyes on tank-topped locals, their mouths watering at the prospect of all that tasty meat that could be theirs with only a simple exchange of glances and a few well-aimed words—top or bottom?
“Don’t worry, darling,” Ryan said, “we’ll find you one before the night ends. I promise.”
“I’ll go home with you tonight, sweetie,” Ollie said. “You shouldn’t be alone.”
“Let’s go outside for a smoke.” Toby hooked his arm in mine. “It’s too busy in here.”
We waved them over, and I thought, the day Charlie has a drink at Zoo will be the day I forget all about Stella Morales.
“We were just on our way to this new club down the road,” Charlie said.
“Have a drink with us?” Ollie pleaded, ignoring the fact that Charlie and Daniel had been dating for five months.
“Where have you been, anyway?” I asked. “I’ve been trying to call you all night.”
“Why? Did you miss me that much?”
“Stella—” I tried to say the words, but they froze in my throat. I averted my gaze and forced the tears away.
“What happened?” Charlie put his arm around me, his eyes darting across my face in search of an explanation.
“She dumped me for her intern.”
“She what?”
I couldn’t stick around any longer. I freed myself from Charlie’s one-armed embrace and wriggled my way to the bathroom through throngs of boys who were mostly my height—I do a lot less looking up to people here. I spotted Robin at the bar, her hair frazzled and her eyes wild, gesticulating at the barman—as if she could still taste what he put in her cocktail. The queue to the ladies’ room was non-existent, one perk of being the only lesbian in the club.
I sank down on the loo, and my head started spinning. I got up and splashed some water in my face. The reflection I caught in the mirror could easily rival Robin’s look of drunken insanity. Watery red-rimmed eyes pushed back by black circles, gloom oozing from my pale skin, my nose still pinkish from my last stint at the beach with Stella. I felt the rage build inside me. I wanted to go out into the night, into every bar in Soho and find Stella. I wanted to go to her apartment and rip CJ off her. A loud bang on the door snapped me out of my state of self-pity.
“Lee, are you in there?” I recognised Robin’s voice, loud and brash, and very drunk. “Hurry up, I need to pee.”
I pulled the door ajar, slivers of pulsing lights and droning bass filtering through, but she forced it wide open and pushed herself past me in the tight space. She smelled like liquor and sweat. Without qualms she peeled her pants off and sat down on the toilet. “Do you want to go dancing?”
“No. I’m not in—”
“The boys told me you and Stella broke up. Are you all right?” Robin was never sensitive like that. Wherever some attention lay around she sucked it towards her and planted the spotlight firmly on herself. In all the times I’d seen her, always with Charlie, she’d never even asked me a direct question. She was always too busy being the life of the party—even if there wasn’t one going on.
“Do I look okay to you?” Despite the booze, which was supposed to help with my bravado, I couldn’t hide the tremble in my voice.
She got up and, without washing her hands, took me in her arms. Tenderness and Robin had always been two opposite entities in my world, and her hug struck me right in the stomach, in that weak spot where it always starts hurting first. I let go of my restraint and cried on her shoulder, in the bathroom at Zoo.
“It’s all right. We’ll take care of you. We’ll get you through this.”
My brain was so muddled I mistook her kindness for something else. My body reacted instantly to the abundance of flesh and skin Robin piled on me. My lips were only an inch away from her neck and I moved my head forward a little bit until they touched her skin. It tasted salty and stale after a night of hard drinking. I trailed my mouth along her neck, up to her chin. Our eyes locked for a split second, and I thought I saw something akin to lust—I was too far gone to correct myself. I leaned in again and kissed her full on the lips. Soon we were lost in a moment of oblivious, intoxicated passion, and I felt the rhythm of my breath quicken. I reached for the button of her jeans, which was still open. I just craved a connection of flesh, I wanted to get lost in someone’s arms and forget—it didn’t matter who. The touch of my fingers on her belly startled her, and I felt her retreat as my hand pressed firmer against it. Then she pulled back completely.
“Hey, what the hell are we doing?” She quickly buttoned up her pants and pulled her fingers through her hair.
“Shit, I’m so sorry.” I fell back against the door and took in Robin’s swaying gestures as she dabbed smudged lipstick from her lips.
“Chin up, Lee. You’ll get over her.” She winked and kissed me on the cheek as if nothing had happened. I stepped away from the door and let her out.
“But what if I don’t?” I asked. “What if I don’t get over her?”
Chapter 3 of ‘Come and Go’
CHAPTER THREE Sunday, 2 October 2011 I walk into Shelley’s Yard at one thirty, stake a table at the large open window and order a white wine spritzer. I hardly slept after Stella’s message. I shouldn’t drink in this agitated, wrecked state but I need to feel the heat of the alcohol, even if it’s watered down, glow in my throat, my insides and my blood. All night I pictured Stella lying in her king-sized bed in her fancy apartment on The Peak, sleeping soundly above all the mortals—like she has no idea what she does to us, to me. I got up at ten, took a cab to Bowen Road and ran my heart out. October still has some hot and humid days; my t-shirt was completely drenched, the drying drops of sweat making me shiver in the cold conditioned taxi air on the way back. In the shower my legs shook, and I had to steady myself. In the harsh morning light I almost hated Stella. I could have stood her up, but I feared it wouldn’t even dent her soul. I watch the people on the escalator as they glide by and are then spat out at the top. Soon one of these people will be Stella. This is why I arrived early. I want to see her slide by, on her way to meet me. I want her eyes to look for me when she enters the restaurant, recognise me, smile. She will kiss me on each cheek, but I will have anticipated the shudder it will send through my skin and my bones—I will have steeled myself. That’s what the spritzer is for. It’s almost two, and I order another.
A flash of white announces Stella’s arrival. She slowly breezes past, her bright top bringing out her mocha skin. She has dressed to impress—me at least. I feel it in my tummy now. I brace myself for the touch of her lips on my cheeks, first the left one and then the right one. This is my time to be brave.
“Hi Lee.” She doesn’t just peck me on the cheeks, she hugs me, a long soft embrace and, as she lets go, runs her fingers through my hair. If this is her plan of battle, she has already won. “I hope I haven’t kept you waiting?” She nods at the two empty wine glasses. What is it with these waitresses anyway? I know it’s busy but don’t they pick up glasses anymore? “Another one?”
“Waiting for you is my favourite hobby, Stella. You know that.”
She smiles. She looks surprisingly good, not at all like the woman who stumbled out of Veto last night. I hope she and CJ haven’t made up. Surely they couldn’t have had time for that? “I was expecting sunglasses and shaky hands from you today.”
“I’m quite sturdy for my age.”
“I guess that’s what hanging with a young crowd does to people. You’re only as young as the people you feel, right? Which makes you—”
“Before you continue, I came here to apologise. I just want to make that clear.”
“Apologise for what exactly? I mean, if it’s for breaking my heart, you’re a little late.”
She looks directly at me, her eyes pleading, like she wants to say something but doesn’t know exactly what, or where to begin. “Can we start this conversation again, please?”
Maybe two spritzers on an empty stomach was a bit much, even for me. I look away. Suddenly all the people on the escalator seem to be happy couples, not a thing on their mind but to enjoy a glorious blue-skied Sunday together. You just wait, I think, till some bitch comes along and stabs you in the heart. I take a deep breath and try to remember the speech I came up with during my run earlier in the day. I draw a blank.
“If only it were that easy.” I wanted it to sound cynical, instead the words come out all mousy and hurt, like I’m about to cry. Am I? Oh no, this is not the plan. No more tears for Stella Morales. I swallow slowly. Where’s that wine? And where are my eggs benedict? “The service in this place—” I feel Stella’s hand on my arm. The words stop. A tear crashes down, leaving a stain on the napkin in my lap.
“Would you like to go somewhere else? Somewhere more private?”
What is wrong with me anyway? I never used to be like this. “God no, I’m fine, really.” Stella’s hand is burning the skin off my arm. I’m sure it will leave a five-fingered black mark once she removes it. I need for it to stay there a little while longer. The waitress brings my wine and Stella’s coffee. I tap the glass and say, “I should go a bit easier on those, right?”
Stella smiles, baring a thin sliver of perfectly white teeth. Her lips are brimming with lip gloss again. I wonder if it’s the raspberry one—the one she wore the day she broke up with me. I can still taste it sometimes, at night, when I lie in bed on my own, replaying the events. I wonder if she still loves me, or if she ever did.
Stella retracts her hand and sips from her coffee. Her eyes glare at me over the rim of the cup. The food arrives, and we eat in silence for a while. There is so much I want to say, but really, what’s the point? We’ll finish our meal, she’ll apologise for last night, maybe we’ll have one more drink and then she’ll be off again, out of my life, and it will hurt like hell to see her walk away—again.
“Do you want to go see a movie this afternoon?”
Is she talking to me? Is this a date now? “Oh Stella, I wouldn’t want you to sacrifice your Sunday just because I shed a little tear earlier.”
“You don’t have to act tough with me.”
“Of course I do. You hurt me the most.”
“I know and I’m sorry. Just give me a chance to make things right.”
“Why? So we can be friends now that your girlfriend is leaving you? It feels like shit, doesn’t it?”
“As a matter of fact, it does. Which makes me all the more sorry for what I did.”
“When is she leaving?”
“In a month.”
“What’s going to happen in that month?”
“What do you mean?”
“Will you be together until she leaves or are you breaking up?”
“God, I have no idea. She only told me yesterday.”
“Aren’t you her boss? Why didn’t you know?”
“Because she applied for a job with another bank behind my back.”
“So if she wanted, she could stay in Hong Kong.”
“That’s correct.”
“But she doesn’t.”
“Nope. Serves me right, don’t you think?”
“Well, I guess so. Really, what else can I say?”
“Nothing.”
“Is that why you want to go to the movies this afternoon? To forget?”
“Yes.” She pinned her eyes on me, but I couldn’t meet her gaze. “And to spend some time with you.”
“I’m not going to the movies with you, Stella. I’m sorry.”
I wanted nothing more than to sit next to her in a dark theatre, feel her arm touch mine, close my eyes and smell her perfume, hear her breathe. We could go for a cocktail afterwards, maybe even dinner. I could have said I found that bracelet she lost, it was under the couch and my cleaning lady finally found it—I always suspected her of not cleaning under there. She would come home with me, kiss me with her raspberry lips and cheat on CJ, with me. I wanted it but I couldn’t do that to myself. I have some self-respect. Not a lot, but enough not to let Stella Morales ruin my life twice in one month.
Chapter 2 of ‘Come and Go’
CHAPTER TWO Sunday, 1 May 2011 I met Stella on the first of May at RED. Charlie wanted to introduce me to his new boyfriend, Daniel. When I arrived it was just the three of us, but in usual Hong Kong fashion, as the night progressed, we were joined by friends and friends of friends. Stella was Daniel’s colleague and she had just been on a gruesome date. I was more than pleasantly surprised when she referred to her date as “she.” She bought beers for everyone, including herself. It had been quite busy and we’d been standing all night. When I spotted a table freeing up, I immediately claimed it, and Stella sat down next to me, our fingers twirling sweating bottles around. “You were quiet in the cab. You’re not having second thoughts, are you?” Stella asked in the elevator.
“I love this place,” she said. “It’s my favourite bar in Hong Kong.”
“Yeah. At least there’s a breeze here.”
Through a well-practised Q&A of the standard questions I discovered she was from Florida, worked at Goldman Sachs, lived on The Peak and had been in Hong Kong for four and a half years with no immediate plans of leaving.
“So what do you make of Charlie and Daniel?” I asked.
“Charlie’s very handsome and Daniel’s filthy rich. They should make a good pair.”
“Is that why your date was so awful? She wasn’t pretty or rich enough?”
“Neither actually.” Stella laughed. “Did I offend you just now?”
“I’ve been here long enough not to be so easily offended anymore. But, well, Charlie is my friend.”
“And Daniel is mine.”
“Where did you meet her?”
“Who?”
“Your date.”
“Why do you want to know?”
“I’m just curious. Lesbians seem so hard to find in this city.”
“I met her on the internet.”
“Really?”
“Why so surprised?”
“You don’t really strike me as the type to look for love on a dating website.”
“As you just said, good women are hard to find in Hong Kong.” She looked me straight in the eyes. “Where do you get yours?”
“I don’t. That’s the problem.”
“Maybe tonight’s your lucky night.”
Stella seduced me in five minutes. I was defenceless against her cool charm, her Miami wit, her effortless elegance and the way her tan skin contrasted with the light beige blouse she wore. Later, we shared a cab to her apartment on The Peak. The ride uphill was silent. I glanced at her from the corner of my eye. She stared out of the window as the cab flung itself up the steep streets. I felt slightly intimidated by this woman, this stranger I met mere hours ago. She had the waistline of a sixteen year old, but the small wrinkles creasing around her eyes when she smiled betrayed her real age. I wanted to spur our driver on to go faster, but he was already racing at an insane speed. At the same time, I wanted to stay in the car forever and live in perpetual anticipation.
“What? Oh no. No no no,” I stammered.
Once inside, without asking, she poured us both a glass of scotch. I don’t drink scotch, but I didn’t say anything. I walked to the window to enjoy the amazing view she had over the city. Towers full of light spreading out below me, puncturing the sky. It was nothing compared to the inside of her apartment. The living room was the size of my entire flat, which, by Hong Kong standards, wasn’t even that small. The walls were filled with expensive-looking modern paintings, and every possible surface, from cabinets to floor corners, was covered with funky statues, oddly-shaped vases and peculiar shiny objects. This place was obviously meant for showing off, and, at least with me, it worked. I nearly had to sip from the scotch to hide my bewilderment.
I faced the window again and in the reflection I saw her approach. She had kicked off her heels upon entering, and I could barely hear her footsteps, even though I must have been in one of the most quiet spots in the city. She put her glass on the window sill in front of me and lay her hands on my shoulders, gently stroking them. Without shoes, she was maybe one inch taller than me, but it felt like at least ten. Her hands travelled from my shoulders to my neck, where she touched my naked skin for the first time. I still had my back to her when she unbuttoned my shirt, the window mirroring our movements. Her hands slowly escorted my shirt off my upper body. I tried to turn around, but she wouldn’t let me, not yet. Her red nails trailed over my skin, downward, where she unzipped my jeans. I felt her lips on my back while her right hand made its way into my pants. That was when I fell in love with Stella Morales, and she hadn’t even kissed me yet.
Farewell
“Can’t she send you somewhere closer?” Alex asked, an incredulous look etched on his face. “Like Brussels or Paris. Somewhere the Eurostar goes, for instance.” The next few days I worked outside of the office as much as possible, giving Lucy a chance to catch her breath. When I went in on Friday, rushing inside the building to catch the lift before the doors closed, I found Lucy in it, as if she was waiting for me. Everyone I had spoken to, without exception, had advised me to do it. I had let their enthusiasm carry me and, in the end, determine the outcome. I spent the next months finding storage for the stuff I couldn’t take, answering the same questions with meaningless answers over and over again, acquainting myself with Hong Kong labour laws and attending farewell parties that grew more tearful as the date of my departure approached. A week before I was scheduled to leave, the last week of July, a severe bout of panic hit me straight in the gut. Was I really doing this? Could I do it? Would the loneliness not kill me? I turned to the one person I knew who had given up her homeland, for no less than love, decades ago. “Is there any chance you’ll go with me?” I asked, only half-joking. I was scared out of my mind by then. Fear of the unknown clinging to my every thought and every action. THE END
“We don’t have offices there.” I was still too shocked to display empathy towards him, my best friend I was considering leaving behind.
“Do you know what Hong Kong is, Leesbian? It’s China. They’re bloody communists. Do they even have lesbians there?”
“Less chance of heartbreak then.” I refilled his glass of port, catching a lost drop with my finger. “Anyway, I don’t have to go.”
“Don’t be daft.” He leaned back and crossed his arms over his chest. “A promotion like that? You’d be the boss. You have to do it.”
“It’s the other side of the fucking world, Alex.”
“You’ll be fine, sweetie. They speak English over there, and I’m sure you’ll find some girls to corrupt.”
“I’ll take the next one,” I said.
“Don’t.” She pushed the open-door button so hard the blood almost drained from her finger. I stepped inside, the air heavy with awkwardness. “Have you reached a decision?” she asked.
“Yes,” I said to her reflection in the mirrored door. “I’ll do it. I’ll go to Hong Kong.”
“Good.” The BTG office was on the sixth floor so the ride up didn’t take very long. “I’ll start making the necessary arrangements.” As soon as the doors slid open she hurried out, and, without looking back, walked away.
“I heard you’re skipping town,” Claire said as soon as she had opened the door to her house to me.
“Oh yeah.” I didn’t wait for her to invite me in. I assumed I was welcome. “I can’t hang around here forever.” I stalked past her and waited in the dimly lit hallway.
“It’s so nice of you to say goodbye.” She leaned against the railing of the stairs, tilting her hips toward me in a way that almost made me want to stay. “Do you want a drink or would you rather go straight upstairs?”
I made no pretence of being there for any other reason. It had to happen, if only as an inevitable last goodbye.
“Oh baby,” she said, her hair falling into her eyes as she hunched over me, “we’ve danced that dance a million times. I think it’s time we called it a night.” That’s when I knew I’d made the right choice.
What it all comes down to
“We need to talk,” I said, wishing I’d have come up with a more original line. But what did it really matter in the end when hearts got broken and dreams got crushed? To be continued…
“You don’t have to move in next week, darling.” She sipped from a bottle of beer, almost swallowing the top end between her over-sized lips. I’d let her finish her curry first, figuring she wouldn’t be able to eat any more after I’d dropped my bombshell. “It’s just something to think about.”
“It’s not about that.” I played with my bottle, peeling off the label. I wondered what hurt the most, being dumped myself or this nerve-wracking waiting-game for the best moment, for the right words to find their way out of my mouth.
“I know,” she said and her words surprised me so much that my heart started thundering beneath my ribcage. “You’ve been different since you saw Claire at that party. Did something happen?”
“No.” I shook my head. “Not what you think anyway.”
“What then?” she urged, her eyes already getting moist, anticipating the worst.
“I just don’t think this is working out. Us. It’s not, erm, enough, I suppose.”
“Tell me the truth, Lee. Did you fuck her?”
I realised then that if I’d said yes she would have forgiven me. “No. It has nothing to do with Claire. It’s me. You deserve better than me.”
“That’s bullshit.” She remained so calm, so willing to work it out. As if she believed that if she let her emotions come through too much, everything would be instantly lost, as if clinging on to sanity and logic could save her. “Don’t pin this on me. You know how I feel about you.” She looked away for a split second. “Is there someone else?”
“No, it’s not like that.” How did you tell someone that you didn’t love them enough without breaking their spirit for life?
“Then we can work it out. I know we can.” Lucy the negotiator was getting the upper-hand. “I know you love me.”
“I do, but just—” I hesitated for a moment, then stopped thinking and landed the final blow. “—not enough to see this through. Not like I loved Claire, or Lou. It doesn’t feel right anymore.” I might as well have punched her in the face.
“Oh, so you prefer being cheated on, do you? You like to be treated with no respect. Well good luck to you. Darling.” She took a few shallow breaths. “Unbelievable.”
“You’ve given me so much, but it’s time to move on. It doesn’t feel right anymore. I feel as if I’m leading you on.”
“Give me a minute,” she said and got up. “I’ll be right back. Stay. Please.” She took her beer and walked to the kitchen. I heard the sound of glass shattering against the floor, but I didn’t get up. I un-muted the television and watched Eastenders until Lucy came back into the sitting room. She leaned against the couch, the furthest away from me as possible. “I think you should go to Hong Kong.”
“What?”
“I can’t fire you because you don’t love me enough. I want to, but it wouldn’t be fair.” As if I wasn’t feeling bad enough about beating Lucy’s big heart to a pulp. I wanted her to sack me. I needed to be punished. “But I can’t have you in the office with me every day, and I can’t have you living at auntie Eleanor’s anymore.”
“But—”
“And I wouldn’t have to see you with anyone else,” she continued, as if sending me away, to the other side of the planet no less, would dissolve all her grief. “With Claire or Lou or anyone else you could love enough.” She looked at me with eyes begging for relief. “It’s your choice, Lee. Think about it.”
Coming of age
“You stand to lose a lot,” Alex said. I had met him for lunch the next Monday, the only time we actually managed to get alone these days. When I got back to the office I ignored Annabelle and knocked on Lucy’s door directly. She was munching on an apple behind her computer. To be continued…
“Maybe,” I listlessly took a bite out of my sandwich. “But not as much as staying with her would cost me.”
“What if she fires you?”
“I’m already looking into other opportunities. I won’t be able to stay at BTG. Not this time.” I couldn’t bear to eat anymore. My stomach clenched at the prospect of hurting Lucy.
“You can stay at ours for a while if Eleanor kicks you out.”
“Thanks, homie.” I realised how lucky I had been to get a cheap room at Eleanor’s for so long. Rent prices were still skyrocketing and then there was the dreaded search for roommates. I was about to pull the bottom out from under my life, the only difference was that this time it was intentionally.
“That’s what friends are for.” He eyed my sandwich. “Are you not eating that?”
I shoved it towards him. “I’m more in the mood for a liquid lunch.”
“For what it’s worth, I think you’re very brave,” he said before tucking into the rest of my chicken-avocado sandwich.
“It’s not a matter of courage.” I felt the tears well up behind my eyes a little bit. “It’s not even a matter of choice.”
“Are you finally coming of age, Lee Harlem Robinson?” Over the table, he grabbed my hand. “About ten years too late, but then again, it’s never too late, is it?”
I shook my head. “I guess not.”
“Is that all you’re eating?” I asked.
“Your concern is heart-warming, darling.” She pulled her lips into that wide grin again. I would miss that smile. “But it looks like Hong Kong is happening. Now all I need is the right person for the job.”
“I’m sure you’ll find someone. You always do.”
She looked away from her screen and pinned her eyes on me, giving me all of her attention. “What can I do for you?”
“Can we meet at your place tonight? I’ll bring some take-out.” Part of me had wanted to wait until the weekend, so she’d have at least two days to process, but it suddenly seemed so urgent, and wrong to postpone.
“Sure, you have the key. Let yourself in if I’m not home yet.”
“Okay.” I turned to leave.
“You should move in, you know,” she said, out of nowhere.
I had my back to her and took a deep breath before facing her again. “I’ll think about it.” I forced my lips into a smile.
Lucy got up from behind her desk and walked over to me. “I’m sorry, darling. I shouldn’t have sprung it on you like that.” She kissed me on my forehead. “Are you all right?”
“I’m fine.” So much wasted kindness, I thought. Cheating would have been much easier. “I have an interview this afternoon, so I’ll see you at home.” I was relieved that I didn’t have to spend the rest of the day looking at her open door, searching for her shadows.
“Bring me a chicken tikka, will you?” she said.
I was thinking of a bottle of brandy instead.
Burned
I saw them standing together and I knew. The awkward conversation they engaged in faded to nothing and I just saw their lips move. My past and future in romance collided in that moment and delivered a gut-wrenching blow to my stomach. Two versions of love battled for the upper-hand right in front of my nose. On the one hand, there was Claire, with her tight face and arrogant gaze, who stood for no-holds-barred passion reined in by a slew of impossible rules. Facing her stood Lucy, wide-lipped and freckled and so generous with her affections, so unconditional in her love for me that it verged on the ridiculous. It wasn’t even a battle really, it was more of an aha-moment, a revelation waiting to happen. I was only thirty and I felt as if I’d given up on love. As if it had dragged me down so much that I had no choice but to choose the unadventurous, safe, easy kind. Somehow I had learned to love Lucy and her dependable ways but in no way did it compare to what I had felt, or maybe still did, for Claire. It didn’t even come close. It’s not that I was suddenly overcome by a desire to ditch Lucy and let Claire feel me up in a dark corner of the hotel. It was just a plain and simple realisation that I shouldn’t settle for anything less than the torrent of emotions and the never-ending waves of passion I’d felt for Claire Burns. I had experienced the beginnings of it with Lou, but that had gone to hell before it could even develop. What I knew for certain though, was that I didn’t have it with Lucy. That was more make-belief, convenience, an easy way out. I watched their mouths form words in slow motion and I knew I had to make a choice. Break it to Lucy in a gentle, adult manner or a return to the despicable form of what oddly seemed my past now. Talk or cheat? Either way, I would break her heart. “Shall we go back in, darling?” Lucy asked while wrapping her fingers around mine, and I was snapped out of my daydream. To be continued…
I smiled and squeezed her hand. “Just give me a minute to powder my nose.” I turned to look at Claire one more time. She winked at me as if she knew something. She probably did. I locked myself in for long minutes, blotting out the sounds of women entering and leaving again. Then my phone beeped. My hands were slightly shaky when I dug it out of my pocket. Somehow I knew it would be Claire. She was predictable like that. Meet me in Room 405 in twenty minutes, it said. It was decision time already. I had more respect for Lucy than that, though. She deserved more than to be discarded like that again. And I didn’t want Claire back. She was just the trigger, the intensity of our relationship the measure I wanted to hold myself to. Ten tumultuous years in romance had proved insightful enough not to let myself get burned by Claire again. No, I typed and sent it with a sense of relief bubbling through me. But the hardest part was yet to come.
I walked back into the room and was scooped up by Alex.
“Good news, Leesbian,” he said. “That coward Lou isn’t coming tonight. Apparently she’s not feeling well.” He curled his fingers into air quotes. “That’s one less bitch to worry about.”
“That’s one way of putting it,” I said and stole his champagne glass out of his hand.
The party
Two weeks later the four of us got out of a cab at a posh hotel in Chelsea. Before heading out we’d shared a bottle of wine, out of which I had managed to squeeze three big glasses for myself, but it wasn’t nearly enough to still my nerves. Lucy squeezed my hand as we walked in, her posture rigid and her smile wide, as if nothing could touch her. We greeted Theresa and her husband Geoffrey with pecks on the cheeks and, in Geoffrey’s case, lingering fingers in inappropriate places. Impeccably dressed waiters handed us flutes of champagne, which I gulped down as if it was water after spending a fortnight in the driest desert. Alex went off to work the room, Ben by his side as the most elegant prop. Lucy recognised someone she used to work with and introduced me. I drained more champagne and cautiously looked around for a sign of Claire or Lou, but I didn’t see either of them.
“I’m going to find the washroom,” I whispered in Lucy’s ear. “I’ll be right back.” I meandered through the crowd, everyone dressed up as peacocks as if it were the event of the year. I was sure Theresa got quite the thrill out of that. Then, emerging from the door that led to the toilets, I finally saw Claire. I was startled at first, even though it was hardly a surprise, but the sheer shock of seeing her, of being in the same room with her, was enough to make my heart skip a beat.
“Hey baby,” she said. “How are ya?”
I could have cried. I felt the tears well up behind my eyes but I swallowed them away. It was nostalgia and the remnants of something, possibly the greatest love I’d ever had, and it cut through me without mercy.
“Hello Claire.” The curve of her mouth, that ever-mocking downward twinge, struck me again, and her eyes, in all their un-touched glory, seemed to know something. “I wish I could say I was happy to see you, but I’m still on the fence about it.”
“I know, baby, I know.” She curled her lips into a tight smile. “Let’s go somewhere we can talk.”
My whole history with Claire flashed before me. Meeting her at Waterloo station, the first drunk night, moving to Paris, the pain and not wanting to give up despite knowing better. Is this it then, I thought? Was this the love of my life and will I never feel the same for anyone else again? It seemed like such a bad deal. We walked into the hallway and leaned against the wall, away from the party chatter.
“So you’re with Lucy now.” There was no sign of sarcasm in her voice, no superiority, just plain niceness and I didn’t really know how to handle it.
“Yes, it’s been a few months. It’s good.”
“I’m happy for you.”
“The way you were happy for Lou and me?” I couldn’t help myself. It wasn’t just the anger, it was the nerves and the anxiety that had been building. It was the image of her in Lou’s doorway that was etched in my memory and haunted me like a recurring nightmare.
“I’m sorry, Lee. Looking back, it’s one of my biggest regrets.” She bent her head towards me. “And I won’t ask for your forgiveness.” Her lips were almost at my ear now. “But I’m glad you came tonight.”
“There you are,” Lucy said. “I was wondering where you’d got to.”
Claire abruptly retracted her head and held out her hand. “You must be Lucy. Nice to meet you. I’m Claire.”
To be continued…
Sixty
“We miss Alex dearly,” Theresa said. “In the hilarity department, he’s as good as irreplaceable.”
“What about the morals department? From what I’ve heard, when you work at Sanders & Burns, it really doesn’t matter who you fuck and what the consequences are.”
“I accept that.” She blew into her cappuccino. “Just this once.”
I had always liked Theresa and I could hardly fault her. She was one of the most honest people I knew and no question fazed her. “Who is your business partner corrupting these days?”
“We try to stay out of each other’s personal lives lately. And sexually, all co-workers are strictly off-limits.”
“Good luck with that.” I couldn’t help laughing because I knew which effect the word off-limits had on Claire Burns.
“I made her sign a document.” She curled her lips into a sneer. “This is a serious business we’re running.”
“How’s Lou?” My heart hammered in my throat. One part of me wanted nothing more than to talk about her, but the other part, the more cautious one, still didn’t feel entirely comfortable.
“Professionally, which is as far as my wide knowledge stretches, she’s doing well. But that’s not really what you want to know, is it?” She slanted her head to the left a bit and pinned her blue eyes on me. “I know they hurt you, Lee. But you’re happy now, right?”
“I am,” I said with more force than necessary.
“Good.” She drained the last of her coffee. “So maybe you and Lucy can do me the honour of attending this fine event.” She handed me a white embossed envelop. “It’s my sixtieth birthday and I won’t take no for an answer.”
“You don’t look a day over fifty, boss.” I slipped the invitation out and studied the few lines of text for a long time. “I don’t think I can make it, though.”
“It’s time to put the past behind you, Lee. I’ve even invited Alex and if he can find it in his heart to celebrate with me, you really have no excuse.” She patted me on the thigh. “See you in two weeks.”
“Are you seriously considering it?” I asked Alex. “You didn’t exactly leave on friendly terms.” We sat in Eleanor’s couch, sipping sherry.
“It’s business, Leesbian. I’m freelance now and every big player in the London advertising scene will be there. It’s an excellent opportunity for me.”
“You’re such a whore.”
“Don’t use that word in my house,” Eleanor, who was setting the table while Pat cooked dinner in the kitchen, said.
“How long has she been living here?” Alex turned towards Eleanor. “It’s been years and you still haven’t managed to instill some manners in this lesbian.”
“Maybe not manners, but she has been behaving rather good lately. I take full credit.” Eleanor walked over to the sofa. “Anyway, I don’t necessarily think it’s such a bad idea.”
“That’s what Lucy said.”
“It’s going to be a massive do. Not as if it’ll just be us awkwardly crammed together in a confined space,” Alex said. “We’ll make it a double date. Ben adores Lucy.”
“Who doesn’t?” Lucy walked into the room. “Where is your gorgeous piece of man flesh tonight?”
“He’s on his way. He should be just in time for dinner.”
Alex and Ben. Eleanor and Pat. Lucy and me. It seemed so perfect, so right. We had many evenings like that, just chatting and nibbling around Eleanor’s dinner table. It always made me feel extremely grown-up. I listened to Alex and Eleanor’s light banter, sprinkled with Lucy’s nasal voice and I wondered if it was the sound of happiness. It was, for a while.
To be continued…
Romance
From then on, I started to see Lucy differently. Maybe because I was so desperate for something to hold on to, or just maybe because, in all her brave complexity, she was the right woman for me at that time.
“We both like it messy and that’s all right,” Lucy said one night after we’d decided we didn’t care what our co-workers thought anymore, and walked home together. “Before you know it, it all becomes too romantic and incredibly boring.”
“You really get me, Lucy. I wish I’d seen that when we first met.”
“No.” She shook her head. “Too romantic.”
“What about all those months of pining after me?” I joked. “You have to see the romance in that.”
“But that’s the right kind, the tragic, painful kind.” She turned her head towards me. “And trust me, being with Joan was plenty painful.” She rubbed her behind in memory of more smarting days.
I giggled stupidly. “It looks like we made it in the end.”
“Against all odds,” she said and drew me closer to her. “Let’s enjoy this moment, though.” I could feel her breath in my hair. “Because who knows what will happen next?”
Heartbreak and failure at love had driven me into Lucy’s arms, I never forgot that. Claire and especially Lou still occupied much more of my thoughts than what was strictly necessary. But once Alex had quit working for Sanders & Burns our lives had no reason for colliding anymore. And slowly, with every picture I crumpled and every formerly treasured text message I deleted, I took one more step away from them. Lucy and I carved out our own story, with our own little hang-ups and frustrations, but mostly with a good deal of unmistakably romantic happiness. I breezed into my thirties, leaving my romantically challenged twenties behind once and for all, and it felt like a new beginning. Blogging The Globe began setting up offices around the world and whenever possible, Lucy took me with her. Months went by without a hint of drama. We were simply too busy being content and, in ways, oddly satisfied with each other. I loved Lucy, that was clear, but it wasn’t the all-encompassing devouring I’ll-take-anything passion I’d had for Claire. It was a more stable kind of emotion, more human as well, with a much better chance at survival. Maybe this is it, I thought. Maybe it doesn’t have to be difficult. I’ll just grow old and dull with Lucy Rowe. If only I hadn’t let myself believe that. I should have known better, should have known myself better, but I was blinded by something. Love or foolishness or both, or maybe they were just the same.
It started on a cold damp day in January, my last January in London for a while, but I didn’t know that yet. I’d finished an interview with an up-and-coming digital artist at a Costa Coffee in Covent Garden when Theresa, my former boss and the Sanders in Sanders & Burns, walked in.
“Oh Lee,” she said. “I thought the earth had swallowed you whole.” She hugged me with her typical zeal, nearly crushing my windpipe on her collarbone. “What did I tell you about keeping in touch?”
“It’s not that I didn’t want to. The circumstances haven’t been particularly inviting, that’s all.”
“Excuses, excuses. Come on, I’ll buy you a cup of coffee.”
And so it all began to unravel, again.
To be continued…
