Old Neighbours Become New Friends

As I near the first floor I hear voices: Raveena again objecting. I'm halfway down the final flight of stairs and I can see the door of Number Three is open. The woman, Sadie, is stood by the door holding a pair of dining chairs stacked seat-to-seat, and struggling a little with the weight, while Gavin and his mate manhandle a small dining table out through the door. I stay out of sight in the shadows as the men pass.

They are held up as they try to work out how best to carry the table down the stairs, and I take the opportunity to admire Sadie's figure: she is gorgeous, though Raveena is by no means completely outshone by her. She is younger even than me, and I can understand why Raveena loathes her for it. It occurs to me that if she is an old girlfriend of Gavin's, then their previous relationship can barely have been legal! However, no matter how attractive she is, she is also feeble as, after a short while, she has to put the chairs down to have a rest.

Raveena follows them across the hallway, "Gavin, you heartless bastard; this is so unfair!" she complains, her voice breaking. They ignore her and begin moving down the stairs with Sadie the Feeble laboriously following.

"Raveena? Are you okay?" I ask, coming unnoticed down the final steps and approaching her. "What's happening?" To my surprise she steps forward and throws her arms around me, burying her head in my shoulder and sobbing. The feeling of her is startling, awkward and rather pleasant, all at the same time, as I tentatively hug her back and make sympathetic noises. I'd come down just to lend some moral support; the fact that our rather unhappy conversation yesterday makes me her best source of comfort is rather sad. "Raveena?"

"It's so horrible," she whispers, her head still pressed against me. "I'm sure he's just taking things to punish me; I mean, I can understand him wanting the telly but why take the bookcase or the dining table and chairs? I bet he doesn't need them."

"Has he said he's taking anything else?" I ask, keeping my voice low and hugging her a little more tightly for a moment. She releases her embrace and moves back a little to look at me.

"He said he wants the bed." She hesitates and adds, "In some ways, he'd be welcome to it as I can't help remembering the sight of him fucking that bimbo every time I look at it." I nod in understanding: my own bed has more memories of Lisa than are good for me.

"Can you afford to replace the bed?" I ask.

"I can't really afford to replace any of this stuff," she tells me sadly.

"I take it that he's not offered to pay anything?" I ask and she shakes her head. "You haven't anything of his you could ransom, have you?" Another head shake. "That just leaves blackmail then. Do you know any of his dirty little secrets?" I'm more than half-joking at this point, but to my surprise, a hard gleam appears in her eyes.

"Ha, maybe I should threaten him with putting the photos I have on Facebook." I look at her questioningly and she pulls out her iPhone and taps it. "I, um, took these when I saw what they were doing; I didn't want to be able to pretend to myself later that I hadn't seen what I did."

She shows me the phone and there are three photos: all show Gavin from behind and mounted on top of Sadie, who has her legs wrapped around his waist. In the middle photo her face, open-mouthed and eyes closed, is clearly visible.

"Shit, it looks like he's screwing her in the arse!" I exclaim. Raveena looks at the photo.

"He wasn't but you're right, it does look like it," she agrees but shakes her head. "However, there's no point in my threatening him with these; he'll just laugh at me. Knowing him he'll think the photos make him look like some kind of super stud"

I think for a minute. She's probably right; the photo won't upset him too much, even if you could see his face. It will almost certainly matter to Sadie the bimbo though...

Now, I may not be into men in any way, but I work with them and, while they don't seem to go in for deep meaningful conversations when socialising, it's surprising what men will discuss when working alongside one another. One thing I've learned was how much guys will do to be with a sexy woman and Sadie, although apparently having the brains of a goose and the personality of a rat, is attractive, very sexy and apparently very enthusiastic in bed. Gavin isn't going to let that go easily.

"Do you want me to help? I think I know a way to get him to cough some money."

"Fuck, it's that dyke bitch from upstairs." Gavin's voice startles both me and Raveena.

"Ugh, a dirty lezzer," the woman's voice chimes in, "do you think she ever gets mistaken for a man?" she gives a simpering giggle. Oh, thank you, Sadie; I might have had a conscience about doing this until you said that.

"Probably more often than your pathetic boyfriend has," I reply as I turn and Gavin gives me a filthy look.

"Come on Dave, let's get the bed," Gavin says and marches past Raveena with Dave in tow. Sadie moves to follow but I stop her with a gentle hand on her arm.

"Just a moment, er, Sadie. You look like a woman who uses Facebook, yes?" I ask innocently.

"What? Yes, no wait, I mean what's it got to do with you?" she looks at me suspiciously.

"Oh, I just wanted some advice on what you think would make a good tag for this picture. I can't decide between 'Cheating bastard boyfriend Gavin fucks bimbo in the arse' or 'Slutty bitch loves Gavin giving it to her up the shit'. What do you think? Tagged and shared with everyone, of course." I show her the photo, and the look of terrified horror on her face is perfection.

"You wouldn't dare," she stammers.

"What, a dirty lezzer like me wouldn't dare humiliate a bitchy straight bimbo like you? Want to bet your reputation on it?" I ask, fixing her with my hardest, meanest stare. She looks towards Raveena in mute appeal. "You reckon you'll get any help there?" I laugh and she looks miserable. "Of course, if you can come up with -- what do you think Raveena? -- say three hundred pounds to compensate for this outrageous taking of furniture, then I think Raveena might not feel the need to share the photo." Raveena nods. "Off you go then; you've got ten minutes," I tell her.

Sadie gives me a poisonous look before turning towards the flat. "Oh, just one thing," I add in warning, "Tell the bastard ex that if he or one of his mates ever come and upset Raveena, then I promise the photos will be posted not only on Facebook but on many other sites on the internet -- with your names in full, of course -- so that the photo will be the first thing anyone Googling your names will find." She nods sullenly and walks away.

"Mattie, you have a very mean streak!" Raveena says to me, smiling as she takes the phone and slips it into her pocket, "and I mean that in frank admiration because I'm too much of a coward! I wonder what the bastard will do?"

"Cough up the money, I should think. Would you settle for two hundred and fifty quid if he haggles?"

"Mattie, it'll be bloody amazing to get anything!"

In the end, with Sadie flapping backwards and forwards trying to negotiate, we settle on two hundred and eighty-sixty pounds -- all the money the three of them could scrape together on such short notice -- and I let the bastard think he'd done well by insisting on taking the bed.

Finally, we watch them drive off. "Mattie, thanks ever so much for helping me; you were a complete star."

"It's no problem, Raveena. He was a chauvinistic, homophobic bastard. She wasn't much better; they deserve each other."

"Um, Mattie," she begins hesitantly and I think I can guess what's coming, "er, are you gay?" she finishes in a rush and it makes me smile. "I mean, when you threatened that bitch you called yourself a, um, 'lezzer'."

"Yes, Raveena, I'm gay, though I wouldn't usually use the term 'dirty lezzer' to describe myself." I look at her and decided to come clean. "I said my partner had left me when we met the other day... her name was Lisa. Is that a problem?"

"I've gay men as friends and colleagues but you're my first gay woman friend."

"I'll bet I'm not but... you called us friends?" I say, touched and surprised.

"Sure. Only a friend would have helped me in the way you did."

"Thank you, Raveena. Can I ask what are you're going to do for a bed now the bastard's nicked yours?"

"Well, I have got an inflatable guest bed somewhere that I can use, but I'll need to buy a proper one from somewhere."

"There's always Ikea," I suggest.

"True, apart from two things," she smiles. "First, I haven't a car and second I'm allergic to flat packs!" and she makes me laugh.

"Well, I can help you with both of those, if you like, since we're friends."

"Oh no, I couldn't ask you to do that," she protests. "

"Why not? I quite like Ikea and you could always stand me breakfast if you like."

"That's very kind, Mattie, thank you."

Raveena's Diary

Saturday 19 April

Talk about the morning from hell! I cannot believe just how fucking unpleasant Gavin decided to be -- it was almost as if he had decided to take items of furniture based on how much they'd upset me: the bookcase (my books now in wobbly, untidy stacks along the wall), the table where I liked to sit for breakfast and in the evening with my little laptop when he hogged the telly to watch some crappy sporting fixture or tedious documentary; which was most evenings, come to think of it. He got it wrong with the bed though; I mean, while I couldn't afford to throw it out, I wasn't too upset to see it go, given the memories associated with it.

I guess I didn't exactly handle the situation well, shouting at him and calling him names, but I was so upset. And then Mattie appeared and was just amazing! I can't believe how she threatened Sadie the bitch with the photo I'd taken. It was like she just knew instinctively that Sadie was the one to go for to make the bastard at least pay me something for the furniture. Perhaps she was some Mafiosi extortionist in a previous life because she played it perfectly. It was a little scary actually!

After Mattie finished dealing with the bastard and his bitch, she was then so sweet offering to take me to Ikea. I tried to refuse, though perhaps not as strenuously as I might. When she said that if I could pay for breakfast that would be good I felt happier accepting her offer.

Breakfast was so cheap it was almost embarrassing. Still, Mattie seemed genuinely happy going around the store, so I didn't feel too bad. She was good company too, making me laugh with her pronunciation of the Swedish names of the products, and she certainly knew her way around the meandering store, and even where there were shortcuts.

The bed section was... interesting. I wanted to test the mattresses for comfort and to try the different bed frames, but when I lay on the first mattress I was surprised when Mattie lay down next to me. She wasn't particularly close to me and she just wriggled and complained the mattress was too hard (it certainly was) but it felt, well, strange. What I'm not sure about is whether I'd have felt strange with any female friend lying on the same bed or whether it's knowing that Mattie is gay that made me feel a bit uncomfortable.

I could have spent a small fortune, even just replacing the bookcase, table and chairs and the bed. In fact, the bed alone cost more than what the bastard paid me, but I have some savings that I dipped into. The items are all a little more basic than the ones he took, but at least they are all 100% MINE!

We brought the table and two chairs home in Mattie's car; the other items are too big, so they're being delivered on Wednesday afternoon when I'm home. Mattie helped me bring the things in and then helped with the assembly. Actually, she did almost nothing towards actually the assembly -- apart from helping to support some parts while I screwed them together.

Her real contribution was to tell me that I was an intelligent, capable woman more than capable of putting some flat-pack furniture together and to "...stop being such a complete Sadie-bitch-girlie, read the instructions and just put the fucking bits together!" The 'Sadie bitch girlie' comment really stung but it worked and I assembled the table and both chairs: go me! Okay, she did stop me from making a couple of silly mistakes, such as putting one side of a chair on upside down. She also suggested I check and tighten up some of the screws so there were no wobbles. I asked her to double-check them afterwards and she said they were all fine.

She finally left mid-afternoon and I decided to write this before I pop out for some shopping.

I suppose I should think about how I feel about Mattie, my new friend. I really like her; she's kind and caring, clever, speaks her mind and has the courage to act. We discovered that we both like the same young adult fiction books; she also likes science fiction, which I don't really like. She smokes and drinks and told me she'll watch at least the first twenty minutes of any film, so she's seen lots of films I'd never even consider watching. Of course, she's also seen just the first twenty minutes of dozens and dozens of others. And of course, she's a lesbian.

I loved how safe she made me feel today, safe and cared for. When we hugged, I felt her body, firm and strong, and that hug kept me together. When she was on the bed next to me in Ikea it felt strange as I looked across at her: her short, auburn-tinged hair; her pale, slim face unadorned by makeup; her skinny, rather boyish figure clad in jeans and a dark grey shirt with a logo on it. And yet she is very pretty. No, pretty isn't the right word but I can scarcely use the word attractive about a gay woman can I?

I was also more touched than I let on by the fact that she told me I was capable and could do things for myself. Gavin always told me how useless I was, particularly when it came to anything practical. I stupidly believed him, always doubting myself when it came to attempting new things and depending on him instead. But he was wrong and my friend Mattie is right: I can do things myself and I love that she showed me that.

I guess I'm afraid of the fact that I like a gay woman, nervous of what that makes me. Stop it! I'm being ridiculous: I can like her, enjoy being with her as I might any other female friend without that making me a lesbian. She's a good looking woman, I can recognise that and it's not as if I'm going to go to bed with her -- apart from in Ikea obviously!

Chapter 3: Don't call me butch

Mattie

I enjoyed the trip to Ikea with Raveena. I do like the place and the weird names they give things: Bjursta, Gulört, Framstå... How the hell do you say that A-with-a-circle anyway? Raveena laughed when I read them out in my corny Swedish accent, and she started doing the same. I've missed having someone to share things like that with.

There was one brief moment of awkwardness when we were in the bed department. I guess that was my fault. Raveena lay down on one of the mattresses, testing it for firmness, and I lay down beside her. The mattress was far too hard for my liking and, as I wriggled trying to get comfortable, I told her so. When looked at her, I found she was staring at me with the strangest look on her face: her eyes fixed with an intense fascination and yet she bit her lip uncertainly. I returned her stare and thought about her and my feelings towards her.

I remembered how she had made the effort to talk to me during the week, shared her pain with me; she deliberately hugged me and, damn it, was uncomfortably attractive with her large, dark eyes, caramel skin and a deliciously feminine figure. We'd been chatting as we walked around but she hadn't tried to pry about what had happened with me and Lisa. This impressed me because it showed a level of sensitivity and kindness that I've not often encountered; rejection for being gay is more common -- sometimes direct but more often a subtle distancing and wariness. Other times, there are questions about how I know I'm gay or what lesbians do together. Raveena's sensitivity, with her humour and openness, makes her more than just physically attractive.

So what was the strange look she gave me? Was she wondering about me, about what she felt for me? No, whatever either of us thinks or feels, I can't go there. Anyway, she's completely straight and has just broken up with her prick of a boyfriend.

Then I realized. It was probably my lying next to her that was the problem: a gay girl on the same bed was a bit disconcerting for her and so, not wanting to make her more uncomfortable, I stood up and went and tried another mattress. Raveena and I can be friends and I can admire her beauty and the loveliness of her personality without wanting to seduce her.

I know us tomboyish lesbians (I hate the term 'butch') have a bit of a reputation for wanting to seduce any girlie that shows even the slightest sign of bi-curiosity but that has never been me.

The most hurtful thing Lisa ever said to me was that my appearance was a lie: that I dressed 'like a butch dom' (ugh, that word again) but behaved 'like some near-submissive femme'. It was so unfair. I dress the way I'm comfortable; it expresses my boyish nature and outlook. Neither am I 'near-submissive' though I also hate the idea of dominating a woman.

I love the flirting and the excitement, the playful seduction and adventure of a fledgeling relationship, but I want it to end with love and intimacy and affection, not just a one-night tumble in bed and the chance to boast of seducing a straight girl. I want more than just a brief fling. And why not? Plenty of people, male and female, want the same. Anyway, even if Raveena was a raving dyke, I'm not in the place for a new relationship; the pain of losing Lisa is still too raw, despite her hurtful comments.

After helping Raveena assemble the table and chairs -- or more accurately calling her a 'Sadie-bitch girlie' and shaming her into doing it herself -- I've come home to spend the rest of the afternoon getting sorted with washing, tidying and cleaning the flat, Lisa's other lasting impact on my habits, alongside my treks down to the garden when I smoke.

Kayleigh and Emma call round just before eight o'clock to first ask, then coerce and finally bully me into coming out. I finally give in but only on condition there will be no attempts at matchmaking and trying to pair me up with any female who takes an interest in me. "I really mean it," I warn Emma when I catch the mischievous look she gives Kay.

"Ha, busted Em!" Kayleigh laughs before holding her hand up. "Okay, Mattie, we solemnly swear -- no matchmaking at the club... but, please, Mattie, can we have you at least just looking at attractive women?" I suppose that a few lustful glances would be an improvement on my going round with a face as miserable as sin.

"I guess I can try," I concede.

As we head out into the surprisingly warm evening a voice calls "Hi, Mattie!" I look up and Raveena is just arriving carrying a couple of grocery bags, evidently back from a shopping trip. I see her look me over, taking in the dark blue men's sports jacket, collared white shirt and loosely tied tie and smart jeans. I realize that if I hadn't confessed my sexuality this morning she'd certainly have worked it out now.

"Oh, hi Raveena," I reply and hold the door open for her. "Successful shopping trip?" I ask.

"Oh, yes; just a few groceries and a bottle of wine. Girls' night out?" she asks back, in a surprisingly cheerful tone given the morning she had.