Face the Music

"Okay, now the tattoo. You'll probably think I'm crazy when you've heard this. First off, the night Carole died but before I knew she was dead, I was half-dozing on my sofa and I dreamed that Carole was there and she kissed me. At the time I thought it was just a dream, wishful-thinking maybe. Later I wondered if perhaps Carole had come to me to say goodbye. Then about the butterfly---Carole had a blue butterfly tattoo over her pussy. A few days after her funeral I was sitting in the park and a blue butterfly came and landed on the back of my hand. You may have heard the old belief that when a butterfly settles on someone who's grieving, it's the departed person's spirit come to offer comfort and hope. So I thought perhaps it was Carole come to reassure me. That was when I decided to get the tattoo where she had hers. So there you have it. Bit silly, isn't it?"

I was starting to have fresh thoughts about Sarah Rackham. I reached out to take her hand and gave a gentle squeeze. "I don't think it's silly at all. I think it's rather touching."

"Even if your church disapproved of my story?"

"Especially if the church disapproved. And it's not my church anymore. They've probably disowned me by now. I'm certainly through with them."

"Even though your father's the pastor?"

"More so because he's the pastor. Even when I was a good little girl obeying all the rules he disapproved of me. He would sooner punish than praise. Now I've made my declaration of independence and come out as gay, nothing but the fiery pit is good enough for me. We're in the twenty-first century and he still believes that women should be subject to the whims of their lords and masters. He used to quote 2 Timothy 3 verse 6: 'Silly women laden with sins, led away with divers lusts.' " I almost laughed at Sarah's astonished expression. "Oh, I'm full of little quotations like that. Father had a biblical quote for every occasion, especially those putting women in a poor light. He also believed that a man had the right to chastise his womenfolk in any way that he chose. I'm sure that if he could get away with it, he'd give me a public whipping in the church while hoping the congregation pray for more strength to his arm." I stopped, almost appalled with myself. Family loyalty dictated that I did not discuss our affairs with outsiders. Then common sense took over. I owed them no loyalty. I was no longer family. I was the wayward deviant, unworthy of salvation---I could talk about anything I wished to whoever I wished.

* * * * *

I was woken in the early hours by two things: one, an abrupt near-silence, the other an odd sound within the house. The near silence was from outside, just an occasional light spattering of rain at the windows. The storm had probably decided to move on and be a nuisance elsewhere. The other noise... now I was more fully awake it sounded like sobbing. I glanced at the red figures on my bedside clock. A few minutes after three a.m. The sobbing could only come from one place.

I got up and tip-toed to the guest bedroom door which stood ajar. Glancing in, I could see the humped shape of Sarah under the duvet but it was impossible to tell whether she was awake. She was shaking and her sobs were those of abject misery. A couple of times I heard her whimper: "Carole!" I wondered if I should leave her to it but the Good Samaritan forced his way into my mind again, reminding me of my own Good Samaritan, that time an electric storm had reduced me to a wailing wreck and Irene crawled into my bed to care for me.

I tossed an imaginary coin and it came down heads. Perhaps it was a double-headed coin. I shrugged and crossed the room to squirm my way under the duvet. I think Sarah must have been weeping in her sleep because she didn't stir a bit as I joined her. I put an arm around her and she clutched at my hand with a desperate grip. When I spooned up against her she seemed to relax, wriggling up closer with a little sigh. Within moments her sleep had become more peaceful and I returned easily to slumber myself.

I awoke in the morning to see Sarah sitting on the side of the bed looking at me, her expression hard to read. "I brought you some tea," she told me, "don't know how you take it so I've kept the milk and sugar separate. Why did you come into bed with me, Gudrun?"

"You were crying your eyes out in your sleep, almost breaking your heart. Woke me up. I got in to hold you and that calmed you down."

"Did I say anything in my sleep?"

"You muttered a few things but they were indistinct," I told her. I decided to leave Carole's name out of it, best leave well alone. She might have another bad night tonight and I didn't want to say anything likely to trigger it.

She brought it up herself. "Sometimes I have a recurring dream although the details may vary---Carole's in some kind of danger, always too far away. I'm trying to help but can never reach her in time." Sarah sighed. "Only a dream..."

The storm had gone on its way, although the residual wind was still brisk and the skies a watery blue with small white and grey clouds scudding along in the breeze. I drove Sarah out to where she'd left her car and stayed with her until the rescue truck arrived. Our conversation was stilted and desultory.

While the driver was loading up the car, Sarah thanked me for all I'd done. But that was last night and this was today. Last night I'd felt sympathy for her, this morning I was back to treating her warily. I gave her a curt and wordless nod and went to my car.

"Wait, Gudrun!"

"What?"

"Let's not part like this, please. I know I've been damned unpleasant, nasty even, and you've been kinder than I deserve. Do you think we've a chance of becoming friends? Can we at least try?"

I could have accepted the olive branch then but... Ungracious, I shrugged as I climbed into the driving seat. "Maybe. It's up to you."

Sarah

That Easter Saturday was the usual night out with the girls in our usual haunt although this was the first time I'd been with them for several weeks.

On this particular evening the DJ was obviously having a nostalgia trip because all the music she played seemed to be easy listening from the Thirties through the Fifties. As usual in The Twilight Time the small dance-floor was crowded with women plastered together as they danced and canoodled to the smoochy music. Joanna had been to the bar and returned with a tray of drinks. "That girl's here again, Sarah."

"What girl?"

"The blond one you tried to talk to the last time, the one who blew you off." Joanna pointed to the bar. "There."

"Oh, Gudrun."

"Gudrun, eh?" Joanna looked puzzled for a moment then her face cleared. "Of course, thought I recognised her, just couldn't place her. She's the new legal executive in your office."

I stood up. "Yes. Think I'll go and say hello."

"And get the cold shoulder again?" asked Vicki.

"That was my fault," I confessed, "It may be different this time."

"Don't let yourself get hurt, Sarah," Niamh warned.

"I'll take a chance," I nodded. And I knew it was a gamble. When Gudrun left me this morning after taking me to my car, she hadn't sounded very encouraging or enthusiastic when I suggested we could become friends. As I walked to the bar the music changed to the velvet tones of Nat King Cole. "There may be trouble ahead..." 'Let's Face the Music and Dance'---sounded appropriate.

"Gudrun..."

She turned to look at me. "Oh, hello." No great enthusiasm there but I didn't deserve any... yet...

I held out my hand. "Will you dance with me. Please..."

"I can't dance."

"You can give it a try," I said, "Please..."

With some reluctance Gudrun took my hand and let me lead her into the crowd on the dance-floor. Her body felt stiff and awkward and when she trod on my toes for the third or fourth time her eyes filled with tears. Pulling away from me, she made for the bar. I followed. "What's the matter, Gudrun? You were doing okay there."

"No I wasn't! There's no need to humour me. It's me." There was a tear crawling down her face and without thinking I reached out to wipe it. She flinched. "I wasn't doing okay, I was awful. I'm clumsy and ungainly and kept treading on your feet. I was making us look stupid."

"Gudrun, no-one was looking at us. Look at them---they're all so wrapped up in themselves and their partners they didn't notice a thing. As for my feet, they're still attached. Let's give it another try."

Gudrun shook her head, not in denial I think but in discomfit. "My father would never allow me to dance," she muttered, "Said it was sinful and an offence in the Lord's eyes. He was that way with anything vaguely enjoyable. If it was fun or gave pleasure, then it was a work of Satan. He'd have made a good Puritan, my father."

I gestured to the dance-floor. "There's quite a mob going to Hell, then," I said, "Do you really think a loving God would damn people for getting some pleasure out of life?" I grasped her hand and gave a little tug. "Come on, try again."

She followed me unwillingly onto the dance-floor. "Just relax," I told her, "and put your arms around my waist or my neck. Now, follow my movements and don't worry about my feet. Few of us are born dancers, we all have to learn." The music had changed to Fred Astaire singing 'Dancing Cheek to Cheek' so I took this as an omen and laid my cheek against Gudrun's. She stiffened a little once more and I thought I'd blown it but then she unbent and there was a slight return pressure against my cheek.

The music changed again and I blinked. Bing Crosby. "While I give to you and you give to me/true love, true love..." Pull yourself together, Rackham!

At last the DJ took a break and Gudrun headed back to her stool at the bar. It was still vacant. The Twilight Time is the kind of place where you can leave your handbag or drink and the bar staff will ensure that it's safe. I followed and said: "Gudrun, would you like to join me and my friends?"

She hesitated a few seconds then shook her head. "A couple of days ago we were enemies... no, not really enemies but certainly not friends. Now while we may be heading towards a change we've a way to go yet. I think I'd find it hard to be sociable right now. So no thanks..."

I went back to where the gang were sitting. "Bit better this time," someone said and I nodded absently, almost drifting off into a brown study. Let's see, in succession: 'Face the Music and Dance', 'Dancing Cheek to Cheek' and 'True Love'. I looked towards the ceiling. Are you trying to tell me something, Carole Vernon? I gave myself a mental slap around the head. Don't be stupid, Rackham! There's no-one up there to tell you anything!

"Earth to Sarah... Earth to Sarah..." It was Susie and she had a slight smile on her face. "Are you with us, Sarah?"

"Mmm, yes... thinking... just thinking...

* * * * *

Back to work on the Wednesday following Easter. It was still chilly but the sky was now horizon to horizon clear with not a cloud in sight, the terrible storm just an unpleasant memory. There had been some structural damage in places and a few trees down across roads and railway lines, these being cleared as quickly as possible by the highways and rails authorities . And on my way to work I decided it would have to be make or break time with Gudrun.

She was already at her desk when I arrived in the office and I went straight to her. Gudrun looked up at me, her expression neutral. At least it wasn't openly hostile. "I've come to apologise," I said, "You were right---I've been a total bitch towards you and because of something that was nothing to do with you. I should have left my troubles at home, Gudrun. I'm so, so sorry. I hope you can bring yourself to forgive me. And if we can't be friends, at least let's get along together here at work."

Gudrun glanced away for a moment and when she looked at me again I think her eyes were shining as if tears were there. "I'm sorry too," she replied, "I should have been more forgiving when you tried the other day. My attitude wasn't very Christian. Looks like we've both got problems better left at home." Gudrun stood and stepped round her desk, holding out her hand as she did so. "Let's try for being friends." I took her hand in mine and then on impulse we wrapped our arms around each other and hugged.

Within a few weeks we really had become friends and work was so much more pleasant. Suddenly the world looked a brighter place to me.

Gudrun

It had been a pretty heavy Friday and Sarah and I had to work until well after seven to get everything cleared away. As we were leaving the office, Sarah said: "How about we go for dinner somewhere, if you'd like to that is?"

I was hungry and this would save me cooking something when I got home. "Sounds good to me," I agreed.

"You like Italian?" and when I nodded Sarah added: "There's a place I know about ten minutes' walk from here. Massarella's. Delicious food and reasonable prices."

The restaurant, when we got there, proved to be an old-fashioned sort of place, no fancy fripperies or trendy decorations, just scrubbed wooden floor with plain tables covered by red-and-white checked cloths. Wonderful cooking smells filled the air and I could feel my mouth watering. But it looked fairly full already and I wondered if we'd have to find another restaurant. A youthful waiter approached, no doubt to say we were out of luck, when a loud, fruity voice boomed out across the room. "Va bene, Salvo, la ragazza è un' amica!"

A big elderly man with a substantial belly came over, dismissed the waiter, and enveloped Sarah in a huge embrace. "Hey, Sarah! How wonderful to see you! We've missed you---where you been this long time?"

"It's good to see you, Poppa. But... well, it's not been easy since... you know... with..."

His face clouded a little. "Si, I'm so pleased to see you I forgot. Forgive a foolish old man for being insensitive." He raised his voice again. "Hey, Momma, come and see who we've got here!"

An equally plump woman appeared from a back room and rushed to embrace Sarah. "Sarah, cara mia..." She dabbed at her eyes with the corner of her apron. "Seeing you makes a silly old woman weep."

"Me too, Momma." She looked around. "We had hoped to eat here but you look pretty full."

"For you, there is always room." Poppa laughed. "Even if I have to throw all the others out!" He looked around. "There are some people just getting ready to go. Give me a few minutes to get the table cleaned and we'll have a place for you."

Sarah pulled me forward. "Momma, Poppa, this is my friend Gudrun. We work together." Both Italians gave me a warm handclasp and several minutes later we were seated at a corner table.

"Can I get you drinks while you look at the menu?"

I looked at Sarah. "Will you be okay if I have some wine?"

She smiled, shaking her head. "I rather think I'd like a glass myself."

"Red? Buono. I have a very nice Barbera I think you'll like," Poppa said. He quickly fetched a bottle and glasses, poured our wines and said: "On the house for one of our favourite guests. Now take your time to decide what you'd like and then I send the waitress over."

When we were alone, Sarah said: "Carole introduced me to this place and it's been a favourite ever since. Momma and Poppa cared for her a great deal. They came to the funeral which was so good of them.

"Gudrun, I know I was nasty to you when you asked me to go for a drink that time. You see, I went to an AA meeting with Carole once and it scared the hell out of me. I heard some terrible stories. Then when Carole fell off the wagon and I saw what the booze did to her, it put me off to the point where I became quite anti- and judgemental. For a while I labelled anyone I saw enjoying a drink as an alkie---ridiculous, I know, but it gets you like that. It's not much of a reason for my bad behaviour but it seemed right to me at the time." She lifted her glass, saluted me, and took a sip. "I reckon it's time for me to come back to the normal world.

"How are things with you? From that bit of phone conversation I heard near Easter I gather your family don't approve of you being gay."

"Don't approve?" I laughed, "That's an understatement. I'm not allowed back until I renounce my homosexuality and promise to be normal again, as if you can change just like that. Otherwise I'll be going straight to hell."

"That's odd," Sarah said, "Your father's Swedish and I'd always understood the Swedes were very broad-minded and easy-going about sexual matters."

"Most Swedes, probably," I replied, "but not my father's family. They are all quite well off and very right-wing, in fact some are close to being neo-Nazis. To a man they believe in male superiority and women's place is in the home, rather like the old Nazi mantra of Kinder, Kuche, Kirche. Homosexuals and others they consider to be deviants should be taken out and shot. I can't see me being welcomed by my Swedish relatives at any time in the near future.

"The irony is that I'm probably the most inexperienced adult lesbian you're ever likely to meet. Oh, I've had a few offers in The Twilight but didn't take any of them up---I figured out I'm not a one night stand kind of person. I've only ever had one girlfriend and that was ten or eleven years ago. And it didn't end well." I told Sarah about the children's camp where I met Irene, had a short-lived affair with her and the shabby way I ended it because of my lack of courage. "Even when I came out, the day I told them about the divorce, I only told my mother. I still lacked the guts to tell father to his face. Mother told him later. What about your family, Sarah, how did they take it?"

"Couldn't have been better," she said, "I got all the love and acceptance and support they could give me. My problem was with Carole's mother. Her father and sisters were happy enough about Carole being gay but Mrs Vernon refused to accept it. Blamed me for it even though Carole had come out to them before we met up. And the bloody woman blamed me for Carole's drinking. She once tried to get me sacked on the grounds of my sexuality."

"What happened?"

"Oh, Robert gave her short shrift. Very subtly threatened her with legal action and I think her own solicitor must have told her to back off. That shut her up."

I felt able to shrug off another worry. "So Robert's not homophobic?"

"Not at all. He's backed me to the limit whenever I've encountered prejudice and he has had some clients like that. I can't prove anything but I suspect Carole's mother has been spreading a little poison here and there. Silly woman doesn't seem to realise that in the long term she's hurting herself more than me."

We were served by a very pretty dark-haired girl called Giuliana and when our food came it was as delicious as Sarah had promised. We split the bill leaving Giuliana a good tip and Momma and Poppa both came to the door to see us off. "Not so long next time, eh?" Poppa admonished.

Sarah smiled as she hugged them. "I think things will be getting better from now on."

* * * * *

A couple of weeks after our meal at Massarella's, Sarah came into work carrying several estate agents' newspapers. She opened one and I couldn't avoid seeing the large-print banner headline: LETTINGS. Sarah picked up a red pen and started to mark some adverts. "Thinking of moving flats?" I asked.

"I've got to find somewhere," she said, "My landlord's retiring and moving away and he's selling the house. So..." She gestured to the paper.

"No problem," I said, "you can have the guest bedroom at my place. You know it's a decent place, better than taking a chance on some flat which may turn out to be a dump. We'd be company instead of you taking a chance on strangers and we can travel to and from work together."