Lamplight

She laughed softly. "Oh my, your buttons are so big and so easy."

"That's... not fair."

"All is fair etcetera etcetera. Okay. So... who are you? Where are you from? And, most importantly, can I count on this being a regular thing?"

"Gosh, you're pushy," I said, squirming slightly.

"I know," she said, grinning. "I'm terrible. But you love it."

I laughed helplessly.

It was true, I did.

She fascinated me. Transfixed me. Perplexed me.

Frustrated me...

She steepled her hands and rested her chin on them, assuming the pose of an eager listener.

"I'm from Brighton," I said. That much at least was safe to admit to.

She blinked.

"How on God's green earth did you end up here! You willingly left the south coast for this?"

"It's not that bad here, you know."

"Oh, I know, I know. I suppose I also did the same thing, really, I grew up near Bristol. Not quite on the coast but close enough..."

"How did you..."

"End up here? That, I'm afraid, is a story that's going to require more than one glass of wine to get out of me. And you?"

I was proud of myself for how light I kept my answer - not a single tremor given away.

"I... moved here for work. I've... been here since I left University."

"Oh, nice. I went for a bit, but... it wasn't for me. So... I did my training at a friend of the family's salon and here I am."

"You're... really good at it."

"Thanks. That's kind of you. I'm... I have plans for my own business; it's just taking time to get there. And anyway, I love Maggie so it would be... hard to move on."

"You will," I said, certain of it. "You're... you're the sort of person who would. Do well, I mean. When..."

She smiled and glanced away as she sipped her wine.

Then her eyes flicked back to me.

"You're not wearing any rings," she observed. "You never do. Not a jewellery person? Sorry, it's just that most of our clients are so... different to you. You're always so smart and so wonderfully understated. Minimalist. It's... nice. I've always liked it."

I hid behind my wineglass for a bit.

I hadn't expected that question, and it took me time to find the words that would... do for now.

"I don't wear... things," I admitted softly, at last. "Not... any more."

"Oh. Why?"

"A... thing happened. I don't like the memories."

"Oh. Shit. Sorry, I didn't..."

"No, it's okay. It's... just who I am now, I guess. I draw the line at earrings, and mostly skip those as well."

"Mm. That's a shame. You've got quite lovely ears. Are you single, Cat?"

"Yes," I managed.

"For a while, I'm guessing?"

"Yes."

"Me too," she said softly.

I caught myself staring at her; at this completely lovely creature sitting across from me and slowly twirling a lock of her hair with her idle left hand. She caught my stare and stared right back. The corner of her mouth twitched and she glanced away.

I managed a shaky breath.

"So, Cat," she said.

"Uh huh."

"Just so we're clear, I'm going to cut through the bullshit. Is this drinks, or is this a date? Because I'm getting strong date signals and... and I don't want to assume something and... overstep."

My mouth opened and closed but I was quite unable to articulate anything.

She was gay.

She misinterpreted my shock and took pity on me.

"So. Drinks it is, then," she said, sadly.

"No!" I gasped in desperation, louder than I'd intended. A couple of the men at the bar turned to stare before turning back to their conversation and muffled laughter.

She'd gone bright pink.

But her smile was back.

"Sorry," I gasped. "Sorry. Shit... I'm... I'm just so completely useless at this..."

"Not that useless. Not that useless at all, really," she answered softly. She considered me for a moment. "So. It is a date. Good. I love dates. They're very rare treasures for me. I am also, as you pointed out, astonishingly forward. I find that one sometimes has to be if one wants to... catch things."

"Things?" I managed, completely out of my depth.

"Girls. Specific girls. Very, very specific girls. Like... well, like you, really. See...", she continued as I stared at her, "the thing is... I've had a thing for you since I first saw you. And... while Maggie's usually dead against any dalliances with customers, even she can see the futility of trying to hold back the proverbial waves. You're staring, Cat," she added, helpfully.

I closed my mouth, and swallowed.

She was gay and... she liked me.

It was as if a choir of angels broke out with the Hallelujah chorus from Heaven on high.

Everything became suddenly... easier.

"How... long? Have you... er... been plotting... er..."

"Months and months and months," she said, with a theatrical sigh. "But it's not like someone like me can swan up to a goddess like you and... and just... hit on you, you know?"

"But... but why not?" I managed, after I'd processed the word goddess and its implications.

"Because you are so far out of my league it would be funny if it weren't so sad," she said. She grinned. "So... so this is all really your fault, for giving me an easy in."

"I'm not out of anybody's league," I spluttered. "Especially not yours. You're so lovely. And pretty! The number of times I've... um... oh fuck me, I feel like such an idiot now..."

"The number of times you've... what?" she said, curious.

"Dreamed..."

"Dreamed... about what?"

"... Kissing you," I admitted in a whisper.

Her smirk melted into a smile which was marvellous and warm and sappy and entirely and only for me.

She slowly reached out to touch my hand with her fingertips.

"Keep being the way you are, Cat, and it won't be a dream for much longer. I can pretty much guarantee that. Now, I'm actually quite glad we did that and got it settled. Because now I'm going to have this glass of wine with you, and then you can buy us another if you want, and after that... well, we can see where tonight takes us. If you'd like?"

"I'd... like that. Very much," I managed. "God... I... I'm so sorry, I'm not... usually this bad..."

She smiled gently. "I'll take it as a sign that you like me and leave it at that."

"Yes. Yes, please. Exactly like that. Um... yes."

She sighed, seemingly pleased.

And she slowly curled her fingers around my hand.

"Good," she said. "Because I'd really, really hate to be the odd one out here."

She raised her glass to me again. "To new things and wonderful people," she whispered, over the rim.

She took a slow sip.

And for a brief, wonderful moment I almost drowned in her eyes.

.:.

The wine and cheap but actually quite decent pub dinner were warm in my stomach.

Her arm through mine was the perfect shape.

She stepped alongside me, smiling behind her bangs, grey in the deepening twilight.

I was intensely conscious of the occasional pressure of her hip against mine as we took step after languid step after step along the quarter mile or so of lamp-lit walkway that separated river and the town centre.

I had no idea what I'd done to deserve this moment of peace - walking arm in arm with this utterly wonderful woman as the night slowly darkened above us.

We'd talked a bit - told each other little bits of less-important things, discovered a shared love of 80's music, some of our likes, some of our dislikes.

It had been a calming evening for me after the horror and misery of the day - a lovely little period where it was just her and me and no stress beyond the pleasantly-twanging tension between us.

She had a very pretty blush.

She had a way (almost unconscious, it seemed) where she'd touch my arm with her free hand whenever she felt the need to emphasise something.

She was the perfect shape, the perfect height, the perfect... everything... for me.

I snuck frequent glances at her, there beside me.

She seemed almost... jittery, if that were a thing.

We crossed a patch of shadow.

She slowed and suddenly pulled me to a stop beside her.

She applied gentle pressure, and I turned to face her.

Her hair stirred in the faint breeze. She brushed her bangs clear of her eyes and smiled her gentle little smile upwards...

I swallowed.

I was lost, lost, lost, already lost to her...

"So, Cat," she said softly.

"So..." I flailed.

"I have a... thing... about not kissing on dates."

A strange, almost bitter disappointment took me; I tried to hide it. I hadn't expected anything, but to be so directly denied this...

"Oh... um... "

She saw my disappointment, and she just smiled even more perfectly, if that were possible.

"Don't worry. Let me finish. Because I'm about to break that rule for you. So... come here..."

And she reached up, curled her hand behind my neck, and pulled me in against her.

I squeaked, then melted as she slowly, gently, leaned into me.

A faint waft of scent surrounded her.

My heart went mad in my chest.

Her hair tickled my cheek.

Her lips still tasted of the mint dessert we'd shared.

She was my Heaven.

I moaned softly; heard the satisfied little "hah" she let out.

I wrapped my arms around her and pulled her hard up against me; she made a small noise as she pressed her belly and thighs and perfect little breasts tightly against me...

Then she shuddered hard - a single, full body shiver - and made a weird little whimpery noise as she pulled free to pant for breath.

"Oh God. Oh. Shit. I'm... sorry for that..." she giggled, after a moment. "My body does that...sometimes, when I'm really..."

"What... what was..."

"You know... precisely what that was..." she purred as she leaned in to nuzzle my neck.

"Did you just..." I whispered, awestruck.

"Yes. Just a small one. Just... a teaser. I'm not normally that bad, but... clearly you work for me. Oh God. Mhmm. That was bits of me letting you feel just how nice that was," she breathed back. "How nice I find you. How... perfect."

She tightened her grip and ground against me. "Oh, oh God, that was a divine kiss. I've been dreaming of that for so long. I'm all light-headed now. You kissed me off my feet, Cat. God, that was perfect."

"You smell so good," I managed, blushing furiously at her admission and how much it had aroused me. "You smell so nice and you're so soft and so warm..."

"Mm. I'm so glad that you approve. So, Cat. I'm cutting through more bullshit and wasted time and any possibility of remaining ambiguity. I want to take you home with me and keep you there all night. I want you like nothing else; like nobody else ever. But that's going to involve quite a journey, I'm afraid, and my place is... not all that private during the week. So... could we maybe... find somewhere..."

"I'm... my flat is not that far," I managed to babble, over my thumping heart and natural misgivings about exposing my sanctuary. "If... if you're willing to trust me..."

She cocked her head to one side. "And are you trustworthy?" she said, eyes sparkling up at me.

"No. Not at all," I said. I laughed, for once feeling strangely and wildly free. "I'm... this... no. I'm completely untrustworthy right now because..."

"Because... what?"

"Because I want you so much as well. I will not be able to behave. At all."

She cackled, and kissed me again. "It's okay to want me," she said. "I like that you want me. It makes me very, very happy. How far away is yours?"

"Maybe... fifteen minutes if we can find a bus?"

"I'll last fifteen minutes," she said. She grinned. "Maybe. Then again, maybe not if you kiss me again like that. Do you live alone?"

"Yes," I admitted.

"Good," she replied, with a wicked note to her voice. I squirmed as she slid her hands down my back and cupped my bum. "That's very good. Come on. I'm on borrowed time. Which bus?"

"The 22; the stop's down near the library. Um. You're... oh God, you're so sexy..."

"I'm already going to sleep with you, babe," she breathed, grinning. "At extended, possibly marathon length. But thank you for that. I'll take it in the spirit it was meant."

I stammered something inarticulate; she laughed.

"Relax, Cat, I'm just teasing. I like... not having to be professional. Or having to pretend to be professional. It's been hard. I like being able to just be... me. I like being able to tell you that I really, really like you."

"I like this. This you. So much. Seeing you was often the only good thing in my week," I said.

I winced; stared down at my feet.

It sounded like such a pathetic and self-pitying thing to say.

She squeezed my hand with hers. "Hey. Don't. I get it. And ditto. Life's lonely. You'd always be there - tall, beautiful, unattainable... always with that shy smile for me. I'm glad you were... available. In all senses of the word. God, I'm so glad."

"Julie... can I ask you something?" I said.

"Sure. Ask away."

"Are... did... aargh..."

I sighed, frustrated.

"Breathe and try again," she suggested, grinning.

"Were you deliberately... you know... um... brushing up against me? Your boobs, I mean? When I was at the Salon? All those times?"

"Oh. So you noticed. Um... yes," she admitted, after a moment. "Sorry," she added.

"No. Don't be. It was... it is one of my favourite things."

She snorted.

"I'll be sure to do it more often going forward, then," she said.

"Yes. Oh, yes. Yes, please."

She laughed and pulled me after her.

"Come on, Cat. It's getting chilly and I need some warming up."

So we walked to the bus stop, and waited for the bus, and rode it to near my flat, and I nervously ushered her up the four flights of stairs to the peeling paint of my front door.

And I remembered very little of what we said, or even if we said anything at all.

.:.

"T-tea?" I asked, stammering slightly.

I was beyond stressed. Having her here, in my Sanctum Sanctorum... the first woman, no, the first person I'd ever brought into this space that was so private and so mine.

Oh God.

I was fucking it all up. She'd think I had cold feet, she'd leave...

play it cool, babe, play it cool, it will be alright

"At the risk of being a pushy date, don't you have anything... stronger?" she said.

I silently ran through the list of hard-tack at the back of the cupboard - all of it cheap, all of it untouched in years and probably well past date. "Wine?" I said. "I mean, I have some gin but it's old and I wouldn't recommend..."

"Wine sounds nice," she said. She eased up behind me and slowly ran her hand down my back. "You sound really stressed, Cat. Like you're freaking out. Why? Is it me?"

"No! No. Please... it's just... it's..."

"Hey. It's fine. It's just me. There's nothing stressful going on. Everything is cool. We're just two cool girls having wine on a date and in a little bit we're going to shag like demented banshees."

I couldn't help it; I began to laugh so hard that I had to physically brace myself on my tiny kitchen counter.

"Better?" she said, when I'd managed to breathe.

"Oh. Oh God. I'm sorry. Oh fuck me, I'm so... I'm so fucking nervous and useless around you..."

"I do so love the way you say fucking."

I shuddered as she slowly ran her hands over my bum. Then she caught my arm and eased me around to face her.

She stood up on her toes and planted a gentle kiss on my lips.

"There," she said, in satisfaction. "All better. Now. The wine..."

"Oh. Oh, yes," I managed.

"Seriously, though, Cat... I know I'm very brash and I can be a handful. If I do anything or say anything..."

"No!" I exclaimed again. "No. No, you're perfect. You're lovely. I'm just...I'm..."

"Out of practice?" she hinted, after the silence had grown awkward.

"Yes. With... everything, really."

"I'll be gentle then," she said.

I dug my last bottle of red out and unscrewed the cap. I found my decent wineglass and filled it for her. I rinsed my silly blue one for myself and poured out an equal measure.

The wine bottle clinked and jingled against the rim; I took a slow breath and tried to relax.

She watched me quietly.

"Mismatched wine glasses. Out of date booze. You don't... entertain... much, do you?"

"Am I that transparent to you?" I sighed. I put the bottle down, safely away from the edge of the counter.

"I'm good at reading non-verbal cues. You're not a shut-in and you're not... different. But... you're quiet. Like deep water. There's lots going on in that pretty head of yours. But... you're desperate not to draw attention to yourself. You're clearly not a people person in the same way I am. Am I... on the right track?"

"Mostly..." I whispered.

I shivered as she covered my hand with hers.

"Cat?" she said, gently.

"Uh huh..."

"You don't need to tell me anything. You really don't. I'm just curious about you; I like you a great deal and part of that is an insatiable desire to know what makes you you. The good and the bad. So..."

Her words faded into silence.

And somehow, for the first time ever, I felt safe enough with someone to fill it.

"I was... I have been... alone. For a very long time. It's... it's a really hard habit to break. To... let you in here. Into my space. It's... hard," I finished in a whisper.

She sighed, and reached up to brush my fringe back..

"I always could see stuff behind those lovely eyes of yours, Cat. Dark stuff. It's been there a while and I never felt I could ask. But I'm here, now. I won't push, but I'll listen, if you like. I'll listen if you want to tell me about it," she finished, soft as falling snow.

She was so warm, and so gentle, and alive and... here...

And, suddenly, the ancient pain bubbled up out of me.

"I... left home young. I was nearly sixteen. Nearly but not quite. I had only what I could carry. Didn't want anything else, really..."

"Why?" she said, gently.

I slowly met her gaze.

I tried to form the words.

I couldn't believe how hard it was to find them.

How little I wanted to say them.

How much they needed to be... said. Even though it still hurt almost too much to admit, even after all these years.

"Daddy killed mummy," I managed, at last, in a weird, stretched, little girl voice.

"Oh... oh Christ..." she breathed, hand to mouth, appalled.

I squeezed my eyes closed; fought down the black rushing storm that threatened to rip my heart out.

"Hey. Hey. No. Oh, no, Cat. Come here... I've got you, love..."

And she wrapped her arms around me and held me and didn't say a word as I breathed in and out over and over and over and tried not to let the memories take me.

The taste of the winter morning on my tongue.

My father's rage.

My mother's final scream.

I fought them down and away; gulping, clinging to the present.

"I'm so sorry. Oh God, I'm so sorry. I didn't mean to upset you," she whispered, after some time.

"It's... it's okay... it's just..."

"Shadows," she said. "Christ, Cat, I'm so fucking sorry. Oh my God, I'm so sorry..."

I gasped another breath. And then another.

And then, just like every other time I remembered since that long-ago February morning, another.

I was still here.

Still breathing.

Alive.

If you could call it that.

But... but this time alone amongst all those other times was...

Different.

This time her arms were warm around me and her cheek was tucked in against me and her scent surrounded me and...

So I found the words, somewhere, and... just carried on, in a soft and broken monotone.

"I stayed with a... family friend. Just until I finished school, and I... I worked and got student loans to get myself through Uni. I'm still paying them off. There was a patch about a year after I left Uni where... where I was living hand to mouth and I honestly don't know how I came through it. I had to sell everything I owned just to eat. Everything. So... you know you asked about the lack of rings? Of jewellery? That's why. I had to pawn everything, including my... including Mum's wedding ring... and... and I can't face the thought of ever having to..."