The Long Weekend (18 page)

Darren smiled. “Sorry, I forgot – you are a
detective sergeant
.” He leant forward to catch TJ’s eye as Geri stroked her shoulder. “She’s very important, honest. The London policing community would fall apart without her. Probably already has, in fact.”

Darren got another slap from Geri for his troubles and cowered into Stu.

“Domestic violence – you want to have a word with your mate,” Darren said.

“You can call the police if you like,” Stu replied. “Oh no, hang on…”

On the opposite sofa there was movement as Vic and Stevie drained their cups of tea and stood in unison, performing gymnast-quality exaggerated yawns in their bedtime play, graceful arms spinning like windmills.

“Much as this has been lovely, we’re going to bid you farewell.” Stevie put an arm around Vic. “Don’t stay up too late, now.”

“Have fun, girls – don’t do anything I wouldn’t do!” Darren shouted at their retreating backs.

He got a single middle finger from Stevie in return.

“And then there were four.” Darren rubbed his hands together and heaved himself off the sofa. He eyed Geri and TJ. “You two fancy another or are you departing to bed too?” His eyes were bloodshot, his mood determined.

TJ looked up at Geri but their non-verbal communication wasn’t that advanced yet – they may have had sex, but they couldn’t tell what the other wanted through the power of glance.

TJ shrugged. “Up to you.” She rubbed her ear.

Geri looked at her watch. It was already well past reasonable o’clock, and she had other ideas for filling the next few hours.

Geri smiled down at TJ with a wicked grin on her face. “I think we should go to bed, too.”

TJ grinned right back.

***

It’d only been 24 hours since they made that same walk to bed together, but what a difference a day made. This time, Stevie was aware of every cushioned step, her twitching calves, her tense back. Her heart kicked noticeably in her chest.

At the doorframe Vic stood back and let Stevie in first. Stevie gave her a shy smile as she walked past her, far closer than was strictly necessary. Once inside, Stevie disappeared into the bathroom, switching on the light which seemed suddenly too bright. She’d got an attack of nerves, despite the fact Vic was the same woman – the only woman – Stevie had slept with in the past ten years.

Stevie pulled her face one way, then the other in the large, stage-lit mirror, wrinkling up her forehead even though she knew it wasn’t good for her. She clutched the white sink with both hands and eyed herself full-on.

“It’s like riding a bike, Wright,” she told herself out loud. “Nothing to it – don’t think, just do.”

She nodded at her advice and grabbed the electric toothbrush, added toothpaste and was glad of the noise to cover her nerves, glad she had another two minutes to gather herself while the tiny bristles did their work. Molars, canines, incisors, wisdom. Stevie loved the order brushing your teeth brought, providing the end to your day.

For good measure, Stevie picked up the floss. She knew she was dragging her feet now and ordered herself to stop. She had to get out there and bring some normality back to their lives. It was just Vic. Just her wife. She could totally do this.

Stevie took a deep breath and walked back into the bedroom, bringing all the confidence she could muster into that one walk.

She needn’t have bothered.

Vic was face down asleep under the duvet, already gently snoring.

The gentle rhythm of the sea below. The whir of the wind. The creak of a floorboard, the rattle of a pipe. Doors opened, toilets flushed, boilers cranked into life. A scurry in the loft. Water cascading onto naked bodies and white ceramics. Toothbrushes alert, body lotions slathered, razors scraped. The sound of the house coming to life.

Except, on this particular Sunday, it meant more than just cleansing, buffing and polishing. After the events of the previous night, the house was creeping back to life as if it knew nerves might be frayed, heads sore, emotions trampled.

The house had seen it all before. It’d been around for over 200 years and it wished it could put its arm around Tash this morning or stroke Kat’s pounding head, tell them this shit wasn’t worth sweating. Life was far bigger than all of this, all of them. Being perched on a cliff top, this house had a clear view of conflict. But always it remained in one place, always sober, always solid: observing, mindful, detached.

It’d seen plenty of internal conflicts, too, just like the scenes it had been privy to last night and those it was witnessing this morning. Every time it happened, the house wondered when humankind would learn to focus on what was important and discard the rest, because it was only noise.

If the house could write down all its wisdom it would be a rich house, but it could only communicate through creaks and cracks, quite apt right now. With every group that stayed here it developed another tick, another niggle. It was still waiting for the perfect guests where it might be able to rest for a weekend.

***

Kat opened her left eye, then shut it. Her eyelid scraped across her eyeball. She wiggled her big toes then flexed both hands – still there. She eased open her right eye. It was hard work. Was the lid bruised? Did she get punched last night? She had no idea.

She rolled over and groaned as she lifted her head. Her brain was rattling around in her skull with zero lubrication and she could almost feel it crashing against either side: a boat caught in a dry storm.

Kat placed her head gingerly back on the pillow and waited for the wave of pain to smash onto the breakers, then gently ebb away. It took ten whole seconds. She wondered how long she had till the next wave arrived but figured if she kept her head still, she had a better chance of damage limitation. She held her breath and, when nothing arrived, allowed herself to breathe. Then Kat opened her eyes again. Bad mistake.

Her mouth was dry and when she swallowed, she had to open her mouth to breathe out. Did she do drugs last night? Yes, she did – she couldn’t breathe out of her nose and her mood had a dull, tainted quality to it. Paranoia and its good friend regret were also lurking on the window ledge, waiting till the most inopportune moment to pounce.
Why did she do this to herself again and again?

She ran a hand up her arm and realised she was still wearing last night’s clothes: jeans and her grey top. She’d bought it in the Christmas sales but had only just got the chance to wear it because the weather had been so bad. She wriggled her breasts from side to side then reached under her top and tried to unclip her bra – her body felt strangled. She couldn’t do it without sitting up, though.

Kat braced before levering herself upright, her head slumping forward. Her brain slammed into the front of her skull and she grimaced. Arms up, top pulled off, raking her senses as it went. Then she was able to slip off the bra straps, followed by the rest of her clothes.

The tsunami of movement caused wave after wave of pain until she thought she might be sick. To combat it she lay still, flat and naked, feeling the soft duvet settle on her skin. Calm. She closed her eyes again.

After a few seconds her breathing was even and she felt cocooned – perhaps she could just stay here all day. Perhaps nobody would notice she hadn’t come down for breakfast or dinner. Perhaps Abby would bring her breakfast in bed and they’d laugh about it, her girlfriend kissing her head, wiping her brow, bringing her Nurofen Plus. Perhaps.

Kat gently lifted her head to check for signs of Abby. She wasn’t in the bathroom so she must be downstairs. How had she got home last night? Kat assumed – hoped – that it was Abby who had put her to bed, but she couldn’t be sure.

Whatever, Abby was not going to be amused, and neither was her therapist. She hadn’t taken her pills for the past three days, she’d been drinking heavily, and last night was a blank page.

“If you keep doing the same things and expecting different outcomes, that’s the very definition of madness,” her therapist had said. So clearly she was mad. Another achievement to add to her list.

Kat pulled the duvet up over her head.

***

Geri woke up sprawled across the bed, face down in her pillow, dribbling. Attractive. She turned her head right and saw TJ, which raised a smile. She moved her head left, reached out an arm and banged on the top of the alarm clock so it lit up. 10.10am. Ugh. Her neck creaked as she twisted back around and shuffled towards TJ. Geri kissed the top of TJ’s head and rolled into her bed guest, her foot touching the back of TJ’s knee.

TJ stirred and backed into Geri with a satisfied purr, reaching her arm backwards, twisting and pulling Geri in for a good-morning kiss.

TJ tasted of sulphur but Geri decided not to point this out.

“Morning gorgeous.” Geri was keen to gain the upper hand. After coming to bed, Geri had finally got to touch TJ, taste her, feel her – and she was just as good as promised.

However, after allowing Geri to take the lead for the first part, TJ then proceeded to dominate Geri, sucking and fucking her until she could take no more, her whole body ragged, pulsing. Geri had never experienced a night like it in her life and was caught between being enthralled and not a little disconcerted at her passive role in proceedings. She had drowned in a sea of sexual desire and sleep hadn’t done much to quench her thirst.

Geri was putty in TJ’s hands and TJ knew it.

This morning was no exception. Before Geri could ask any pertinent questions about how she’d slept and what she thought of last night, TJ was on top of her, taking her hand and sliding into Geri, who couldn’t remember the last time she was this turned on so early in the morning. TJ slid, ground, thrust, circled. She knew which buttons to press, had worked out Geri’s PIN code in just one night. Soon enough, Geri was arching her back and seeing stars, just as she had the night before.

When Geri could take no more, TJ kissed her firmly before swinging herself out of bed. She swiped her phone off the bedside table and padded to the bathroom.

Geri laid on top of her duvet, legs still spread and inert, trying to regulate her breathing and her thought processes.

Where had this woman come from? And why didn’t they make women like this in London?

As she waited for her blood to pump back up to her brain, she entertained all kinds of scenarios. She hadn’t met anybody she’d clicked with like this in a
very
long time. And, yes, she knew part of this feeling was lust, her body approving of what had just happened. But it was more than that.

TJ was on Geri’s level.

She was around the same age, sorted, secure and, above all, sexy as hell. So much so, Geri was already working out the finer details of TJ visiting her in London, along with weekends spent in Devon drinking Rattler, dinner in the pub and then lying in TJ’s arms under the stars.

Geri was already building a patchwork future for the two of them, which TJ had done nothing to discourage with her declarations of falling for her. Who had Geri turned into?

She heard TJ flush the loo, then the sound of the water hitting the basin. She smoothed herself down, arranged her limbs in a seductive pose and counted in her head to when the door would open, fixing her eyes firmly on it.

After eight seconds she heard the lock turn and TJ walked in, shot her a wink and walked straight over to her jeans, steadying herself before sliding one leg in and then another. As she bent over, Geri noticed again a tattoo on the small of her back, some kind of Celtic symbol. It looked intricate, like it would have hurt. Another tick to add to TJ’s pile – Geri had always found tattoos irresistible.

“You off?” Geri tried but failed to sound nonchalant.

TJ nodded as she turned and walked over to Geri. Her stomach was tanned and surfboard-flat, her breasts ample, her body fitting snugly into her skinny jeans. Her bare feet had flip-flop tan lines. TJ leant in and kissed Geri, then walked back to put on her bra.

“Don’t want to outstay my welcome.” TJ pulled her black polo shirt over her head.

Alarm crept through Geri’s body. She hoiked herself up and into a sitting position, taking the covers with her, suddenly feeling exposed by her nakedness.

“You’re not…
really
. In fact, I was hoping you might want to come back to bed and we could finish what we started.” Geri poured every ounce of seduction into the last sentence, but TJ seemed unmoved.

Instead, she walked over and sat on the bed. She put on one of her socks, before turning to Geri.

“I should really go…” TJ stroked her chin.

“On the contrary, I think you should definitely stay.” Geri dropped the covers to reveal her breasts.

TJ leant in and kissed one breast, then the other, before crushing Geri’s lips with her own seductively, effortlessly.

Geri was lost for words again. She could happily set up home in that kiss and be just fine.

“You’re very tempting but I think we both know it’s best if I go. You’re going tomorrow and I’ve got stuff to do today.” TJ stroked a hand down the side of Geri’s face lightly. “I had a great time.”

But even Geri could see that time was now over and TJ’s mind was elsewhere.

“Me too.” And Geri had, only she’d like more. Now, later, ad infinitum.

But TJ was already up and gathering her watch, rings, wallet and phone, the last of which she checked, bit her lip, then stuffed into her back pocket.

Geri threw back the covers but TJ shook her head, grabbing them and covering Geri once more.

“You stay in bed, go back to sleep, one of us should.” TJ looked at her watch as she put it back on and chewed the inside of her cheek. “I really have to go,” she said. “I can see myself out.”

Geri opened her mouth to speak but couldn’t think of anything to say. She searched her brain for something.

“Will I see you at the pub later?” Geri asked, too high-pitched. She hated the tinge of desperation in her voice.

TJ shook her head. “Not tonight – I’ve got a family thing today. Easter, you know.” She shrugged, then inched her way to the door and placed her hand on the handle before turning back.