Laura, The Lorry Driver

Bea waited to hear a response, but caught the change. Pausing to gather her wits, she tried to find a compromise.

"We don't need to do anything fancy. What about walking up to the village? 'The King's Head' is supposed to be nice?"

Laura shook her head, her mind already closing down in defence against the hint of that knot in the base of her stomach. She saw Bea's eyes lose their glint, but she didn't want to be the one who stole that sheen away nor cause those dimples failing to appear.

With a gulp of guilt as she reminded herself of her promise not to spoil the status quo, they were still building on. She fought her fears rising within her, thinking about how Bea had already attempted to meet her halfway after her outburst that first evening and at least she'll have her close friend for company, which left her to agree with her conscience to compromise.

"Okay, just one, up the King's Head."

Bea's eyes shone bright again, and she chirped back, "That's my girl. Don't worry, I'll be your wing woman if anyone takes a fancy to you!"

Laura tried to laugh at Bea's little tease, but it emerged as more of a grunt, as she fought a knot threatening to tighten in her gut.

"Oh, Lou asked if I could pop in for a few hours tomorrow morning and babysit the kids Saturday night, as they're taking their visitors out to some swanky place in Cheltenham for a meal. She said that The King's Head is okay for pub grub and a beer but not so much to dine properly."

"Oh, that's fine as I normally do the week's shop Saturday mornings."

"No, we're going halves, remember, if you don't mind doing that in the afternoon? Then we can also share the workload, carrying bags and pushing the trolley."

Laura relaxed enough to chuckle as Bea pushed an imaginary trolley around her side of the table.

"Okay, we'll do the shopping tomorrow afternoon."

Bea's face lighting up cheered Laura enough to relax and lower her feet to the floor as she sipped her cooler tea.

"Well, if we're off down the pub, you'll need to jump in the shower. I had one earlier. Don't be too long, mind; I can only slow the cooking down, not put it on hold!"

Bea waved a spatula in the air as if to underline her point. Laura reluctantly got up and headed to her bedroom, taking her drink with her. Having a little Laura time alone helped her demeanour. She could reconcile her anguish over meeting strangers in a busy pub, full of her perception of judgemental locals, against her desire to match Bea's effort and meet her halfway.

Deep down, she admitted to enjoying being cajoled into going out. Not being brave enough to go out in a long while, having a friend with her would give her confidence. She had to compromise and not risk that balance they'd struck after Bea had proved she could control her continuous chatter to include her friend.

Maybe Bea really is what she needed, a good friend.

After drying and changing, she re-entered the kitchen wearing a comfortable pair of jeans and a loose T-shirt. Bea turned to admire her, but her face dropped and her eyes opened as her arms fell to her sides.

"Whaaat?"

Bea returned to ladling out the mixed vegetables onto plates of fish, shrugging her shoulders.

"Nothing."

Laura looked down at herself.

"Well, it was the first T-shirt at the top of the pile, and these are the same jeans I wore last night."

Bea shrugged again, as she plopped mashed potato onto the same plates.

"I didn't say anything."

"No, but I can see you're disappointed?"

Bea fussed over tidying up the few items on the kitchen tops and cooking hob, not wanting to turn around. Eventually, she placed their plates on the table..

Her eyes looked dulled as she sat down, with her lips closed, giving Laura a stoic look.

"See, you are disappointed!"

Bea nonchalantly picked up her utensils, tilting her head to one side. She held her knife and fork vertically, like flag poles, as she gathered her thoughts. Laura held her breath, waiting to be told off.

"Nope, it's fine. You wear what you like. It's not as if we're going clubbing or anything special. We're only walking down a wet muddy lane to the local pub, so it makes sense to be comfortable."

Bea's words stung as she looked down to fork her first piece of fish, cutting it and sweeping some mash and mixed vegetables on top of it with her knife.

Even though the tantrum she expected didn't transpire, guilt ran through her, seeing her friend like this.

"I'm sorry, I just grabbed what was available. I can change after dinner." Laura lied, but would happily find something more suitable if it pleased Bea.

Bea shrugged as she loaded her second fork load, but her eyes twinkled and her cheeks bulged, hinting a dimple. Laura tucked into her food, wracking her brains on what to wear, as she'd not really been out since before the Covid lockdowns.

The kitchen's atmosphere had cooled as they ate, uncharacteristically quiet, with the radio playing in the background, whilst Bea maintained her silent treatment. Laura continued eating in silence, being unused to starting a conversation, but she could almost feel the tension building in Bea, even though they both focused on their food.

Bea fidgeted quietly as she finished her plate, frustrating Laura, as her choice of clothing couldn't be that important to sulk over something so trivial. Never having shared a house with anyone else but family or a lover, Laura wished she'd paid more attention to herself and avoid upsetting what seems to be a fine balance between them.

"Laura?"

She looked up at Bea, to see her eyes narrowed, her shoulders tense and her fork playing with the last of her food.

"Yeah."

Laura's anxiety crept back, as she scolded herself for not being more creative with her dress sense.

"It's not that I'm unhappy..."

Laura stopped eating, now anxious about Bea's next words.

"You know, with cleaning for Lou, I simply adore Tilly and Tarquin but, do you think they're taking advantage of me by paying me seven pounds an hour? At first I thought it was great, but...?"

Laura breathed an enormous sigh of relief. Bea waited expectantly for a reply, her lips pursed and her eyes opening wide, as she continued to fidget.

"That is not even the minimum wage. Hang on."

Laura pulled her phone out of her pocket and opened the internet.

"She even offered me to live with them rent-free for two hundred a week."

"Based on a forty-hour week, that's even worse, working out at five pounds an hour. Looking at the gov dot org website says about ten's the minimum wage for over twenties, which I assume you are?"

Laura glanced to see Bea pretending to look shocked.

"Yeah, but I know I look a lot younger." She laughed.

Laura returned to the screen and typed in a new search, selected a page, and then read it.

"Ah, this trade site has listings for cleaning rates... Blimey, they're quoting average hourly rates of twenty pounds for agency staff and fifteen for independent cleaners!"

Laura looked up and saw Bea's eyes bulging in disbelief. She handed her phone over to her, so she could see for herself. Bea placed her knife and fork down onto her plate, gratefully taking it and inspecting the screen, scrolling down. She then typed in another search and gasped.

"Flippin' heck. I thought babysitting the kids would be a couple of pounds an hour, but they're saying about ten for the Southwest."

Laura continued to eat, trying to hide her relief that it hadn't been her causing Bea's anxiety.

"I've been quietly stressing about this and glad I'm right, but not sure what to do. I don't want to seem ungrateful and lose the job."

"Hmm, that is a difficult balance and no, I wouldn't want you to lose it either. But, whilst you're cleaning, Lou is working on the farm, as an experienced farmer, so that is worth something to them."

Bea nodded, handing Laura back her phone.

"So, you could throw those figures at her, asking ten for babysitting and walking the kids to and from school, and fifteen for cleaning. However, be prepared for some haggling. You'll have to remind her that if she'd gone through an agency, the rates would be five to ten pounds higher and non-negotiable."

"Oh, I don't know if I'm brave enough to do that."

Bea's hand went up to her ear, and she twizzled a band of hair as she bit her lip, causing Laura to almost swoon.

"Well, think about it for a while. You've the weekend, as you wouldn't want to discuss it in front of the kids. So wait until Monday when you can talk to Lou on her own."

Bea's dimples appeared as a smile crept across her face, with her eyes lighting up. Her shoulders relaxed, and she stood up, picking up her plate.

"Oh, I'm so glad you said that. It makes so much more sense."

She took the plate began washing up.

"You'll also have to consider that knowing those two she will haggle, you have to decide on what your lowest acceptable hourly rate is. The worst thing you could do is accept a lower offer as you'll regret it."

"Why's that?" Bea asked, looking over her shoulder.

"Well, if you're busy for a few hours each morning and a few in the afternoon, it's not as if you could easily find a part-time job in between to make up any money to top up theirs."

Bea turned to face Laura, her mouth open in surprise and her hands still dripping the last drops of water onto her jeggings and the floor.

"I'd never have thought of that... What do you think?"

"It's not for me to say, but you need a figure in your head as to how low you'd go and hopefully meet her somewhere in the middle. Again, we have the weekend to mull it over."

Bea nodded. "I'm so glad I've told you. I got all uptight about it, as this is all unfamiliar territory, and I don't want to mess it up."

"No, I'm glad you did. I was worried that you were angry at me for my choice of T-shirt and jeans, after agreeing to go out."

Bea blushed, smiling awkwardly, turned back to the washing up and answered, "Ah, well, I was a bit. I didn't mean to sulk, but with that bouncing around in my head, I didn't know how to deal with it."

Laura breathed another sigh of relief, relaxing a little more.

"Ha ha, phew, I feel I'm off the hook now. I was more worried I'd upset you. I'll change anyway, as we're celebrating, and it's my first visit to the pub."

Bea shot a look over her shoulder at Laura.

"Your first? You mean you've never been?"

"Well, no. My ex liked the one pub in town and she refused to visit some yokel bar, as she called it. Then Covid arrived, so I've never had the chance. "

Blushing with embarrassment at her perceived folly, Laura returned to the dinner she had left, although now cold, and finished it. Afterwards, she passed everything to Bea at the sink.

Bea pulled her hands out of the water to allow Laura to place them into the bowl, but changed her mind as Laura drew closer. She looked her in the eye, thanking her as she took her plate and mug from her, her face radiant with a smile and dimples.

Laura basked in her bright blue eyes, glancing down to see her soft, wet hands, covered in soap bubbles, making them all the more tantalising to touch, and her desire to brush her hands across Bea's became overwhelming. Unable to orchestrate something without it being obvious, she released her hold as soon as possible and stepped away.

A far better opportunity arose as Laura went to pick up the tea towel. She squeezed past between Bea and a chair, tucked under the table, pressing herself onto Bea's tight peach backside without even brushing the back of the chair.

"Excuse me... Phew, it's tighter than I thought!"

Bea sniggered, pushing her backside into Laura's hips, wiggling it side to side, causing Laura to almost gasp in pleasure. She looked down to see Bea's body thrusting against hers, as she caught a hint of her hair conditioner mixed with the stronger scent of her perfume.

"Ha ha, all we need now is some thumping beats to bump and grind to!"

Laura fought the desire to grab Bea's hips and kiss her neck, which beckoned beneath her hairline but moved on before her rising lust got the better of her, trying to hide a moan with a grunting laugh. She picked the tea towel up off the rail, started to dry and put away items already stacking up on the drying rack.

As she dried, chatting with Bea, who'd returned to her more relaxed self, she pondered on an issue she'd overlooked. In her haste to rescue Bea, Laura hadn't expected her to get a paying job so soon, so hadn't considered what her share of the rent, gas and electricity would be.

Laura thought about checking the utility bills before they went to the pub. She continued to dry, whilst listening to Bea and the other half of her mind running through what clothes she could wear without seeming to go over the top.

Bea had already started putting everything away and tidying up as Laura finished drying and hung up the tea towel.

"I'll change."

"Oh, Laura, you don't have to. I'm sorry, I didn't mean it. I was only stressing over the pay thing."

Bea turned to Laura, her arms outstretched, palms up, pleading. Laura paused, but shook her head.

"No, it's okay. In hindsight, I've something nicer to wear and we are going to celebrate, aren't we?"

With that, she turned and headed for her bedroom. It took her longer to dig out her utility bills and rent book than for her to change and give herself a few dabs of perfume. Looking at the documents, she realised she'd look a bit of a bore pulling those out in the pub, so using her phone, she photographed them.

Laura emerged in a clean pair of slim fit, high waist, dark blue jeans and a green loose fitting, silk-like blouse, with long-sleeved and wide collars. She found Bea sitting at the kitchen table, flicking through her phone. Bea looked up to give a low wolf whistle.

"Give me a twirl girl?"

Laura twirled awkwardly around, rather than a ballerina, but it warmed her to see Bea grinning as she came back to face her.

"Ooo, loving your boots, they put mine to shame. Although, I wouldn't leave these at the Police station."

Bea lifted her right leg up above the table level, to show one half of a pair of highly polished black, plain high-heeled ankle boots, and waggled her foot left and right. Whilst also admiring Laura's tall black leather lace-up boots, with a more modest three-inch heel.

"I hope you'll be able to walk back from the pub in those, Bea!"

Bea dashed around the table, behind a surprised Laura, and put her hands up on her shoulders.

"If I can't, you can always give me a piggyback," she yelped as she jumped up onto Laura's back, with legs straddling her hips.

Laura squealed with laughter and jumped forward, pushing Bea's knees off her, leaving her standing in the kitchen behind her. Giggling, Laura headed for the front door.

Bea caught up with her as she sorted through the older coats on hooks to retrieve a long mustard-coloured raincoat with a fur-lined hood from beneath all her work coats. Bea spirited a champagne-coloured quilted jacket from another hook.

Slipping it on, she beamed at Laura.

"I found this in a charity shop, for a fiver and I've barely worn it, so it was good to see it survived both the bailiffs and the police."

They Left the house to walk down the drive, soon leaving the farm yard lights behind. Darkness bathed the lane ahead with very little moonlight breaking through the heavy cloud cover overhead. Bea side-stepped closer to Laura, wrapped her one arm around hers and clasped onto her arm with her other hand.

"Can you see the road?"

"Your eyes will adjust soon enough."

"I don't want to fall into the cattle grid." Bea Lied, not relaxing her hold on Laura's arm.

Laura enjoyed having Bea clamped onto her arm and patted her hand reassuringly. Whilst not too cold out, the wind chilled them, but also brought the sweet smell of Bea's perfume to her.

"Don't worry about it. It's over a hundred meters away. Once we get there, you'll be able to see it. If not, I've a torch."

"Turn it on then, so we can see where we're going," Bea demanded, shaking Laura's arm.

"No. It'll spoil your night vision. You should be able to see it, now?"

Bea blinked, looking ahead and relaxed her grip but didn't let go, which relieved Laura, enjoying having her on her arm.

"Ah, I can see the grid now, between the gap in the hedge."

"See, I was right."

In the darkness, Laura had to admit to herself she felt better for having changed into her favourite green blouse, as she'd not had any reason to wear it for a long time. Although, she wished she needed something sexier beneath, but it's not exciting when there's one to share it with.

Once they reached the cattle grid, Bea confidently released Laura's arm, stepping nervously across in the dark, carefully stepping on each rail. Laura leapt over with ease and now missing Bea's arm, she grasped Bea's, with no complaints, and they continued their walk arm in arm.

Bea told Laura about her day, and what Tilly and Tarquin did or said, to make her laugh. Throughout, Laura increasingly felt more comfortable with the idea of going out for a drink. Although, Bea noticed the tension building up in Laura as they entered the streetlights of the village and saw the pub sign in the distance.

As they pushed their way through the old doorway into the lounge of the rustic brick-built pub, Laura tightened her hold on Bea, her nails digging into her through her coat.

"Hey, it's okay. We're here to celebrate, remember?"

Laura nodded as the warmth of the interior washed over them. Once inside, they loosened their coats and glanced around the small lounge with a fire roaring at the far end. The murmur of clientele halted for a moment as they looked at the strangers.

"See, not so scary, only locals."

Bea moved towards the bar, which had a few old soaks wedged in the corner, supping their beer. The barmaid greeted them, her hand on the pumps ready. Laura had to duck beneath the low, blackened timber beams that Bea didn't noticed.

"I'll have a Tia Maria and diet coke, please. What about you Laura?"

Laura stood behind Bea, like a rabbit caught in a car's headlights, looking at the myriad of choices before her. Various beer and lager taps ran along the bar in bunches of four, with a vast array of shining, multi-coloured bottles along various shelves.

Seeing Laura snow-blinded and hanging, Bea chirped up, "Oh, she'll have a Bombay Gin and tonic."

Laura nodded, glancing around the room, trying to fight tunnel vision and the fear of running out of the pub screaming. Bea brought her back into the moment.

"Laura, why don't you make yourself comfortable at that table by the window, and I'll bring the drinks over."

Laura robotically moved to the empty table, as she could feel the warmth from the nearby log fire. The tall, slightly bayed window enveloped the table with two chairs opposite a high-backed timber bench seat, which backed onto another table where a group sat.

The room, wallpapered in a deep red pattern, had little shelves running around it, littered with books, bookends and mixed bric-à-brac. Generic vintage black and white photographs festooned the walls. Initially, Laura sat on the bench seat, as it protected her from being seen by over half the room and anyone at the bar.

She soon felt uncomfortably hot sitting in her coat, before realising that whilst she didn't want to show the world her favourite blouse, she looked more conspicuous wearing her coat, with everyone else in shirts and jumpers.

She stood up and removed her coat, hanging it over a spare chair opposite her and sat back on the bench seat, which thankfully had some rich red embroidered deep cushions to make up for the timber backrest. Looking around, seeing no one paying any attention to her at all, her anxiety levels lowered to just feeling uncomfortable.