The Long Weekend (27 page)

“You’re naked,” she said, smiling. In contrast, Vic felt like a prude. She hastily pulled her T-shirt over her head and wriggled out of her pants, throwing both on the floor beside the bed.

“Good work, Sherlock. Ever thought about going into police work like Gimps?”

“I wouldn’t want to show her up.” Vic rolled on top of Stevie, the pull of their two naked bodies slotting back into place drawing low moans from them both. Vic soaked Stevie in before opening her eyes and planting another kiss on Stevie’s mouth.

“I forgot how good you feel,” she said.

Stevie simply nodded.

And just like that a lock turned, the door was thrown open and the past six months crumbled to nothing. The force field between them was now replaced with magnetic love, wrenching them together, refusing to take no for an answer. Tonight the question and the answer were simply: yes.

Stevie licked her lips, kissed Vic, slid down to her neck. Vic swallowed hard and clung on tight as the longing became a tornado rolling through her. She circled her tongue around Stevie’s nipple, kissed down her body, slid hands down her back, squeezed her buttock.

In return, Stevie nibbled, licked, worshipped. Vic was taut and firm beside her and she felt herself clawing at her skin, wanting it all at once, not able to get enough in one go. They rolled together, primal instincts taking over, hands sliding between legs, thighs between thighs, teeth grazing skin.

Then Vic was on top, taking control. Stevie’s eyes flashed with wanting, she knew what was coming next: the pop of the lube, the aching want, her legs spread.

Stevie arched herself into it, ached for it, dug into Vic’s back as she steadied herself. The slam of her head into the pillow as Vic entered her, the feeling engulfing her
.
Her whole body sizzled with want – she’d missed this, needed it, craved it. Stevie let the sensation overtake her and fell with abandon. After a few minutes, Stevie felt an orgasm rip through her body from her very core as she spread her legs wider, revelling in its glory. A few seconds to recover and then...

Then they were both at it, grasping, rhythmic, poetic, glorious. Mouths fastened, clits hardened, words whispered in ears. Both reaching for each other at the same time, finding angles, lubing up, sliding in with no finesse. Fingers filling, backs arching, sweat glistening.

Then just when Vic could take no more, Stevie slid down and applied her tongue, gliding through liquid heat, working it like a pro. Knuckles whitened, grips tightened, edges toppled, stars circling. Vic swore loudly as she was sent spinning, her body taken to a new dimension.

Moments later they were still, touching, together. Eyes glazed, brains woozy, kisses softer, bodies fused. They were both floating now, wrapped in a cocoon of sex. I love you. I really fucking love you. Repeat to fade.

At the front of the house Geri was wide awake.
Why couldn’t she sleep in anymore?
If this was what she’d got to look forward to in the coming years, she had every right to feel depressed. Soon she’d be standing in front of shops waiting for them to open, tutting at the young shop assistants because they were 20 seconds late.

Still, for some reason Geri was smiling as she woke up today, refreshed by sleep and ready to take on the world. She was more than ready to leave this supposed idyll, get the hell out of Devon and back to London. Yes, London had its fair share of cheating dykes, too, but at least she knew what they looked like. Clearly, her radar had completely failed in Devon.

Geri heard voices in the corridor, the gentle brush of the stair carpet, the creaky stair that was two up from the bottom. A pause, then the front door closed and the sound of feet running up the gravel of the drive, onto the path, Darren laughing at some joke Stu had just told him. The boys were off for a morning run and she felt a pang of envy – she wished she’d brought her running gear. It would have been a fine way to say goodbye to the cliffs, the sea, the breeze tickling her ears.

There was nothing stopping her walking it, though. Geri made the decision and jumped out of bed, throwing on her clothes, eager to take in as much sea air as she could. Within hours she’d be back to the rough smog, congested crossings and black bogeys, after all.

***

Vic heard Geri get up and rolled over to check her phone. 8.12am. Her mind flicked forward to the day ahead and she knew they should get moving. Beside her, Stevie was snoring gently. Vic left her wife to dream and padded down the stairs in her pyjama bottoms and T-shirt.

She went into the kitchen and poured herself a glass of water. It wasn’t quite cold enough but she drank it anyway. Hadn’t she read somewhere that lukewarm water was better for your system than cold?

She opened the fridge and surveyed its contents – cherry tomatoes, six bottles of beer, fizzy water, margarine, milk, jam. They’d run down their supplies smartly, so today’s breakfast would be continental – all the basic food groups so long as you weren’t a stickler for the rules. She popped a couple of tomatoes into her mouth and they exploded on her tongue, juicy and sweet.

This morning, Vic felt renewed, alive, victorious. This Easter weekend, Jesus wasn’t the only thing to have risen from the dead – her marriage had, too. Easter could well become her favourite holiday from now on, seeing as you got two days off work and no pressure from your family to visit. It was a mystery to her why it wasn’t lauded more.

Vic wriggled her butt cheeks as she leaned on the side and thought about last night, grinning. She was back where she belonged – rather, love had lifted her up where she belonged. She let out a snort as she realised she was quoting cheesy song lyrics to herself. Way to go Vic, way to go.

Out of the corner of her eye Vic saw something scurry across the floor. She tiptoed over towards the back door and saw a tiny mouse sitting next to the white skirting board. It looked up at her, wondering what she was doing in its kitchen.

Vic took a step forwards, pushing her glasses up her nose. However, the mouse wasn’t taking any chances, shooting left through an unseen gap and away. Vic let out a long breath.

At home she’d be freaking out, already planning where to buy mouse traps, disinfecting everything in the kitchen. But somehow, in this rural setting, mice seemed acceptable, almost as if they should be here. There was an almost poetic quality in Vic’s mind about Minnie Mouse paying a visit. She smiled to herself as she put the kettle on.

***

“So, did she text you back?” Stu asked.

“Yep – midday, she reckons.”

“Did she say anything else?”

Geri shook her head. “Not really – it was brief. She’s seeing a doctor this morning, that’s it. After that, she can go.”

“Okay. Well, we’ve found her car keys, so we’ll go get her and drive her back. I take it you’re still getting the train?” There was toast stuck to Stu’s front teeth but Geri didn’t point it out.

“Yep, you know I can’t do long car journeys without vomiting. But I’ll definitely come to the hospital with you and make sure she’s okay. And I want to be out of this house before TJ and Grace turn up to get the keys and play happy families.”

Stu nodded. “Roger that.”

Beside him, Darren’s cheeks were still glowing from his run, his hair freshly washed. Even Darren, the city boy, was making noises about being sad to leave Devon this morning. It was only Geri who seemed happy to be heading east and not staying put.

“Shall I toast the rest of this bread – anyone interested?” Stevie got up from the table, freshly showered and perky. She got enough mumbled interest and so set to work darkening squares of bread, slotting them into their caged straightjackets. This morning looked like their last of the long weekend, everyone imbibing carbs, their possessions stacked up on the end of the table as if they were getting ready for a car-boot sale.

“So, are we doing this again?” Laura’s face was coming along nicely, her bruising a fresher shade of purple and yellow this morning.

“I hope so, I really like this jam,” Darren said, studying the label.

“Ignore him, Laura, I do.” Stu rolled his eyes. “He’s had far too much fresh air this weekend. You were saying?”

“Are we going to do a 30
^th
? Or a 25
^th
? Did we decide in the end last night?” Laura sipped her coffee.

“I think we were going to but then your news kinda trumped it,” Stu said, stroking his bald head.

Furrowed brows all around as the contents of the last 20 years of their joined lives spilled onto the table in front of them, bouncing around like those tiny rubber balls Geri used to buy so many of when she was a kid.

Geri sipped her tea and spoke first. “I seem to recall we all agreed we love these times – they’re original and dramatic, to say the least.”

“The very least,” Darren said.

“So I think a 25
^th
would be a good idea. Silver anniversary. We can buy each other silver rings and swear allegiance to our gang by chopping the tops of our thumbs off,” Geri said, smiling. “It’ll be just like Stand By Me, but with less leeches.” She paused. “Only I’m not sure it’s wise for Kat to come along – her track record isn’t the best at these events.”

“There is that,” Tash agreed. She looked far more relaxed than this time yesterday. “But who knows what’ll have happened by the time five years have elapsed? Let’s wait and see. It’s not like we have to plan it tomorrow.”

“You’ll be married by then for one thing – have you set a date yet?” Stevie said.

All eyes turned to Tash and Laura.

“Not yet,” Tash said. “We’re going to take our time – set a date, then tell the girls and our families. So this is top secret till then. Nothing on Facebook, okay?”

Murmurs of consensus all round.

“That includes you Darren,” Laura added.

Darren feigned shock, but mimed zipping up his lips and throwing away the key.

Vic got up and slotted another capsule into the Nespresso machine. She was definitely going to see how much they cost when she got home – she’d fallen into coffee love.

“I still think we should agree to another meet-up in principle,” Vic said, rolling her neck. “I know we see each other in between times, but this is a commitment to this. It’s important to me at least.” Vic pointed at her chest.

“Agreed,” Geri said. “All those in favour say ‘Aye’!”

Geri held up her mug towards the centre of the table. All seven of them slowly, deliberately raised their mugs, Vic having to lean over the table, letting her gaze creep around the group. They weren’t to be put off, they were coming back for more.

“Aye!” they said as one.

“I knew you couldn’t resist,” Darren grinned.

***

Laura was wiping down the kitchen sides and doing a final tidy-up when Darren walked in, glass of water in hand. He stopped, thought about walking out again, but then decided against it. He wasn’t going anywhere, she wasn’t going anywhere, so maybe it was time to sort this out. Try to for now, at least.

“Hey you.” Awkwardness settled on him as he washed up his glass at the sink and set it down in the drainer.

“Hi.” Laura’s face told Darren she was about to bolt.

“Look, Laura.” Darren cleared his throat. “I really am sorry about the other night – I didn’t mean to make things worse for you, my mouth just ran away with me.” He held out his hands, palms upstretched.

“It’s a familiar story for you, isn’t it?” Laura was giving him nothing.

Darren sucked it up. “True. But look, I’m not going anywhere here. Me and Stu… we’re… something. So I just thought we could… try to make amends.” He paused. “Or rather, I could try to make amends.”

Laura looked at him questioningly. “Is this an apology?”

“And a truce,” Darren said. He held out his hand to her. “What do you say?”

Laura studied Darren for a moment, but then gave in and took his hand. They shook on it.

“I was half-expecting you to have one of those electric shock toys attached to your finger then,” Laura said, snatching her hand away anyhow. You couldn’t be too careful.

“They’d sold out in the shop,” Darren told her, winking.

They smirked at each other as he dried up his glass.

So Long, Farewell

Wardrobe doors slid on their runners, opening smoothly, shutting abruptly. Toothbrushes abducted from their temporary homes, silently screaming. Shampoo lids tested once, twice. Wash bags zipped. Shirts halved, quartered, laid. Doors open, left ajar. Hallway walls scraped. The bump of suitcases on the stairs. Final drinks, a temporary feel in the air, of closure and of new beginnings.

Darren and Stu were the last down the stairs, Darren with his Louis Vuitton bag over his shoulder, Stuart with his Debenhams case on wheels. Darren had changed his top since breakfast, Tash noted. He jumped the last two steps and landed theatrically in front of the group, the noise making Geri look up from her phone.

“Shall we have a last picture? Out in the garden?” Darren asked.

He was the only one looking enthusiastic.

There was no way Stevie was traipsing all the way around the house and back again right now. She’d had her final wee, she was ready to go. Besides, it’d been raining.

“Let’s just do it at the front of the house instead, shall we? We haven’t got any there yet.” Stevie was using her best teacher’s voice so nobody would argue. It worked.

They all dutifully trooped outside the front door. As they did, the sun was just peeking through the clouds and a rainbow was presenting itself in the sky above.

“Will you look at that!” Darren beamed upwards.

A warmth spread through the group as they all looked up and then around, smiling at each other.

“It’s a sign – God loves the gays!” Stu hugged Geri tight as he said it.

“Rainbows are so beautiful. Just like my wife,” Vic said.

Geri and Stu both made retching sounds.

“Please!” Geri said. “Just because you were up half the night getting laid.”

“It’s true, that was cheese on a stick,” Stevie told Vic.

Vic simply shrugged and smiled.

Darren insisted on taking the picture, so they all squeezed together in front of the porch, the sun’s rays slanting directly into their eyes.