Old Neighbours Become New Friends

"I can imagine; how do you tell your parents that you've been sleeping with the female lodger?" I asked curiously.

"Not easily, was the answer. However, Mum and Dad seemed more upset at first with the idea that Lisa had betrayed their hospitality by sleeping with me than about the fact that I had just told them I was a lesbian!" She shook her head in frustration. "We ended up moving out quite quickly and started life together in the flat upstairs. Actually, I think that helped because Mum and Dad seemed to accept my sexuality, and Lisa too, quite quickly after that. I guess the fact that they're not religious may have helped too." For some reason it occurred to me that, with my Mum, religion would have been much less of an issue than the probable lack of grandchildren! The fact that at twenty-five I was again single and still childless was a boringly repetitive theme of any conversation with her at the moment.

"It's very good that they accepted you: I've a gay friend, Kevin, who's barely spoken to his parents in years since he came out. So you and Lisa were together a long time?"

"Yes, some four and-a-bit years," Mattie said sadly, "and then Lisa walked away."

"Can I ask what happened?" I enquired gently. "You don't have to say if it's too painful." She took a deep breath and roughly wiped her eyes with the back of her hand.

"It's been nearly three months; it shouldn't still be painful. I shouldn't still be bursting into tears every time I think of her!" she complained and I again squeezed her hand that I still held, watching her as she chewed the inside of her cheek before continuing. "Okay, maybe telling you will help. The thing was I guess things had been a bit, I don't know, uneasy between us, Lisa and me," Mattie said sadly. "She was an English graduate and she read loads and liked to talk about literature and all that highbrow stuff and I just had nothing to say; my reading is limited to books like Harry Potter and The Hunger Games."

"They're good books!" I told her, making her smile and I gesture over to the books stacked along the wall where both sets of books were to be seen.

"Yeah, but Lisa didn't think so. Anyway, she went out more with friends from work and her old University friends. It was one of them, a girl she'd been with in her first year at University that she started seeing." Mattie began crying again and I moved over to hug her again and this time I felt her hug me back, which I found sweet.

"Mattie, I don't mean to sound trite but her leaving you wasn't your fault: it was her choice. I keep telling myself that it's not my fault that Gavin was a lying, cheating bastard and the same is true for you. You need to let her go."

"I know, but it's hard!"

I warned her that even if Lisa came back tomorrow, she couldn't just take her back. "The old relationship you had is over," I pointed out, "so you'd have to start almost from the start, finding out who she really is... and she may not be the person you're meant to be with." She looked at me intently, obviously thinking hard.

"You're right," she said eventually. "When I saw her yesterday I was... love-struck, I guess. I even felt guilty for dancing with another woman earlier in the evening and that's ridiculous, isn't it? And then when she kissed that blonde woman it hurt so much and I was so angry... I wanted to get back at her, hurt her as she was hurting me." She looked at me sadly. "I just grabbed the girl I'd danced with and kissed her, hard, without care or love." Tears are trickling from her eyes. "It was horrible of me to do that to her, and I never said sorry."

I was surprised at her confession, a little shocked too I suppose but I tried to comfort her, telling her she'd been upset and confused. I edged closer and slipped my arm around her to just be a source of comfort. There was an odd contrast between the firm muscles of her body and the emotional softness and vulnerability within her.

Eventually she calmed. "Thank you, Raveena, for listening and caring." I felt, in a small way, that I'd repaid her for her help yesterday.

I'd told her that I'd never know a lesbian before so I hoped she'd forgive my curiosity when I asked her if she was what they called a butch lesbian. She gave a slight grimace and I worried. "Sorry, Mattie, I didn't mean to offend you," I apologised hastily.

"No, it's okay Raveena," she answered tiredly. "The answer is probably, yes; at least a lot of gay women would call me that, but I hate the term 'butch', I really do."

"Why's that?"

"Partly it's just the word 'butch' -- it always make me think of that ugly dog in the 'Tom and Jerry' cartoons," she glanced up at my amused snort.

"That's so not you!" I assured her and smile, "you're very attractive and lovely." I blurted this out without thinking; it's what I think but maybe I shouldn't have said it.

"Thank you, Raveena, you're very kind." She hesitated then remembered what she was saying. "It's not just the word 'butch' though. I hate the assumptions that go with it." She asked if I really wanted to know when I asked her to explain. "Okay, well it's lots of things, like people thinking that I literally want to be a man, which I don't; I actually like my body the way it is, female, you know."

"So what made you want to be a, a tomboy? Isn't that like wanting to be a bloke?" I was intrigued to know.

"I liked the freedom boys seemed to have to run and mess around and play football and get dirty without being told they had to be quiet and neat and tidy and be 'ladylike'. Do you understand? I wasn't interested in clothes and makeup but I liked practical things which everyone seemed to say were boy things. So why not join the boys: dress like them, play football with them," she smiled, "I guess I ended up fancying girls the way they do too!" She laughed briefly but then hesitated. "Of course, that's part of the 'butch' problem too: the assumptions that I'll be dominant, that I'll want to be in control of the lovemaking and the giving of pleasure; basically that I must want to be 'the man' in the relationship. That's what Charlotte, the woman last night, assumed, but that's not who I am. I want to share as an equal... am I stupid to want that?"

"No, Mattie, it's not," I assure her. "Gavin always wanted me to be the 'little woman' and I went along with it and let him, almost without realizing it. It was so good when you made me get on and put the table and chairs together on my own. I guess the only stupid thing is ending up as something you're not for the sake of someone else." She looked at me, then nodded.

"That's a very wise observation," she told me. "You're not just a very pretty face, Raveena," she added, making me bashful. "What do you do for a living," she asks.

She was interested in my job as a physiotherapist, particularly as she's once been a patient at King's College Hospital, before my time though.

"So do you do massages?" she asked and I admitted that I did.

"I do sometimes as part of my treatment but I trained in sports massage too. Why?" I asked suspiciously. "Have you a nagging ache you need treating?"

"Not at the moment," she smiled and it was good to see her a little happier. She took a deep breath "Anyway, how're the table and chairs standing up?" she asked.

"Absolutely fine," I assured her, "and thank you for helping me overcome my flat-pack assembly-phobia!

"No problem; I'm always happy to show a woman she doesn't have to depend on a man!" she smiled but there was definitely more than one meaning to that comment and she knew it. To cover my discomfort I asked her what she did and was amazed to hear she works as an electrician and full of admiration as she told of the problems of being a woman in a very male-dominated job. I asked her if she would you like another cup of electrician's tea.

"Builder's tea!" she laughs, "and that would be lovely, thanks."

When I handed her the tea I put on a serious face. "Right, now we can talk about something I really want to know about you: which do you think is better, 'The Hunger Games' trilogy or the 'Divergent' trilogy?" Mattie laughed.

I don't think we reached a conclusion, though Mattie insisted that either would have been better with a lesbian love interest rather than the boringly predictable heterosexual one. When I pointed out that these were classed as books for teens and young adults her reply was that there are teenage lesbians too, which was, I had to admit, a fair point. We chatted on for some time and I lent her one of my books, 'The Girl with all the Gifts' to read and she promised to drop one in to me later.

- - - - - - - - o o O o o - - - - - - - -   Mattie

The day was hard, physically, as we've been pulling cables for the wiring and so I'm tired as I drive home. It's on days like this that I really wish I wasn't single and that there was someone to come home to and make a fuss of me. I park up and stretch my back and try to loosen the stiffness from my shoulders, looking up at the block of flats. There is a movement at one of the first floor windows and I realize that it is Raveena waving at me through what I work out is the bedroom window. It's so sweet I cannot help waving back and, on impulse, I mime smoking and she gives a thumbs-up. If I go for a fag now it saves climbing the stairs twice; I just wish I'd stopped and bought a couple of cold bottles of beer on the way home.

I lock the car door and head indoors, through the hallway and turn right into the corridor to the garden when Raveena calls down the stairs to me. "Can I bring you anything, Mattie? A drink perhaps?" I want to say no but she leans around the banister and sees my face that obviously tells a different story and, before I can reply, she smiles and asks, "Wine or beer?"

"Beer would be great, thanks." When she comes down she hands me a gloriously cold bottle and we walk out into the garden. Sat side by side I raise my bottle and tap it against hers. "Thanks Ravi; cheers." She gives a little laugh.

"If you call me Ravi then I'm going to call you Matt; Ravi's a boy's name!"

"Ooops, sorry!" I hastily apologise. "It's just 'Raveena' sounds very formal. Would Veena be acceptable as a nickname?"

"It's better than 'Raver' which is what I got called sometimes at school so, sure, why not?" She taps her bottle against mine. "I might still call you Matt though," she teases.

"You can if you want, though you might not want to do so in front of Kayleigh or Emma, the women you saw me with on Saturday," I warn her.

"Why's that?" she asks, intrigued.

"Well, because they're quite likely to tease you about wanting me to be your man or something equally embarrassing." I try to gauge her reaction but have absolutely no idea what her expression means: confusion, surprise, intrigue, worry -- any or all would fit.

"Ah, I see. I'd better stick to Mattie then," she says as she takes out her e-cigarette. I pull out my packet of cigarettes and light up. "Anyway, I think Mattie is a lovely name and suits you. I sometimes wish I may parents had given me a nicer name; you're right, 'Raveena' does sound a bit pompous "

"My parents didn't name me 'Mattie'," I admit and immediately wish I hadn't as I can see Veena wants to know what my name originally was. I hold up my hand to stall her question. "Okay, Veena, I'll tell you but you must promise not to laugh, okay?" She nods in agreement. "It was... Matilda."

"Like the Roald Dahl character," she smiles, "but I think Mattie is much more you."

"Thank you. I guess 'Raveena' is an Indian name; does it have a meaning?" I ask.

"It is; Mum is Indian and my sister Vasanta and I both got Indian names. Raveena means 'sunny'," she says.

"And that is very appropriate for you," I tell her, "you were been brilliant yesterday morning." She smiles shyly at my heartfelt compliment.

As the evening darkens we talk easily, sharing how our days went and drinking companionably. I twist and stretch my sore shoulders, giving a little grunt of discomfort.

"What's up, Mattie?" she asks.

"Oh, nothing, I'm just a bit achy after the work today; too much lifting and pulling." She immediately scoots back from the rail and moves to kneel behind me. I feel her hands lightly resting on my shoulders.

"Where is it sore? Here, in the deltoids?" She touches the rounded ends of my shoulders.

"No, nearer my neck and a bit lower." Her touch makes my neck and scalp tingle.

"So, here? Or is in more here and deeper inside?" Her hands touch just below the base of my neck either side of my spine and trail lower, between the shoulder blades.

"Um," I say, moving my shoulders and trying to judge the location, "sort of both really. Sorry," I laugh apologetically.

"That's okay. It seems to be your trapezius muscles, here..." her fingers trace from my neck out across the backs of my shoulders, "and possibly the deeper rhomboideus muscles here..." her fingers glide from my spine outwards to the tips of my shoulder blades and this time I cannot help the shiver. "Are you okay Mattie?"

"Um, yes, just a bit cold," I lie.

"Would you like me to work on your shoulders for you?" she asks. "The muscles seem very tight and massage would help them relax and heal."

"No, Veena, you don't need to do that."

"Come on, Mattie, you've been so good to me over the last week and you're coming to help me build the bed and bookcase on Wednesday. Let me help you with this."

"Okay, thanks." I flop forward and wait.

"Um, this isn't ideal here. I mean, it's a bit cold and the concrete is killing my knees and, er, I can feel that you're wearing a sports bra and a thick work shirt so I can't really work on the muscles properly."

"Oh, yes; I guess you need me undressed to massage me."

"Not necessarily. I can massage through thin clothes, something like a loose tee shirt and not use oil. If you'd prefer a massage with oil then I need bare skin, so for treating your shoulders you could just wear an ordinary bra or wrap a towel around yourself to keep covered up."

I can't help a little chuckle. "I don't do 'ordinary bras' Veena, only sports bras. I'd rather go braless than wear some pink, lacy girlie bra!" I think for a moment then smile "I guess I could just strip to the waist rather than faffing around; it's not as if I've much to hide!"

"If you'd be happier doing that," she replies in an offhand way, as if my body was a matter of indifference to her, which is a little disappointing. I guess doing her job she must see semi-naked women and men fairly regularly. Anyway, she's straight so what did I expect? There was never going to be a lustful gleam in her eye. Besides, why should I want that? Charlotte looked at me like that and look what happened there.

"Veena, it would be really kind of you; I've never had any kind of treatment like this so I'd love to try it." I climb out from the railing and stand.

"I just need to pick up some oils and towels and bits," Veena tells me as we walk up the stairs so I wait as she pops into her flat and then we head to the top floor.

Once in my flat I see her looking round in interest and smiling. "It's not all from Ikea!" I tell her "There's stuff from Habitat too." She tells me it was lovely, which makes me happy. Almost inevitable she is attracted to study the poster that dominates one wall. "They're the posters of my hundred favourite films, as of a couple of years ago," I explain.

"It's brilliant," she replies, examining the playing card size copies of the movie posters "it's the sort of think you could spend ages studying. So what's your favourite film?"

"Oh, that's too difficult a question; I found it hard to get it down to my favourite hundred!" I ask her what she wants me to do to get ready.

"Well, you'll need to undress and then if you can sit backwards on... this chair." She takes a towel out of a small holdall and drapes it over the back of the chair then a second towel, still folded, on top of that in the centre. "To rest your head on," she explains and then takes a couple of bottles out of the bag. "Have you any allergies?" she asks, "Nuts or anything?" and I tell her no.

I sit as instructed and she asks if I'm comfortable before her oil-slick hands glide across my shoulders. She begins gently, long strokes and subtle kneading, "Just to loosen the superficial muscle," she explains and the feeling is lovely. The pressure increases, her thumbs working on tight circles and I cannot help gasping at the stab of pain the pressure brings. She apologises and eases off a little but doesn't stop. Her ministrations lull me, her touch soothing and relaxing. There is a scent from the oil I do not recognise, slightly flowery but warming and comforting.

"What can I smell? Is that the oil?" I ask.

"The oil is sweet almond oil but I've added a little lavender essential oil. Lavender has anti-inflammatory and healing properties but is also stress-relieving and relaxing. I figured after the weekend you could benefit from some help unwinding." She is absolutely right and I already feel more relaxed than I have in weeks. I lose track of time, my world just the smell of lavender and wonderful feel of Veena's hands on my shoulders, back and neck.

Inevitably, and all too soon, Veena is back to giving long, gentle strokes and then she is finished. "There we are Mattie. How do you feel?"

"Oh, Veena," I sigh, "you've turned my shoulders to a wonderful, soft mush! I feel... mmmmm," I sigh again and she gives a little laugh.

"I'm glad you enjoyed it." I turn and reach for my shirt and slip it on as she wipes her hands.

"I did, very much. I was going to cook some pasta; you're welcome to join me if you've not eaten," I offer.

"Thank you. I... I'd love that. I get a bit lonely in the evenings so being here would be much better. Is there anything you need? I can pop down and fetch it."

"Well, I've no drink in so..."

"I've a bottle of wine; I'll go and get it," she smiles and she heads off. I watch her go and it occurs to me how much easier Veena's being straight makes our relationship, allowing us to simply be friends and she's quickly become a very good friend indeed.

- - - - - - - - o o O o o - - - - - - - -

  Raveena's Diary

Monday 21 April

I noticed Mattie getting out of her car after work this evening and, when she looked up, I couldn't help waving. She invited me to meet her for a smoke and I brought a couple of beers for us to share. She's now calling me Veena, which is quite sweet and much better than 'Ravi', her first nickname for me!

As revenge for 'Ravi' I said I'd call her 'Matt. However, she seemed to suggest that her friends might think I fancied her if I called her that. I don't know if she really thinks that might happen or if she wanted to see my reaction. I honestly don't know how I'd feel if it happened but I'd try not to be offended because that might upset her. I was tempted to call her 'Matt' just to see her reaction but I suspect she's a little too fragile to tease too much.

She told me that Mattie wasn't the name her parents gave her: she was actually 'Matilda'! I told her that Mattie suits her much better, which it does; rather cute and slightly androgynous, which seems to be Mattie to a tee. God, I'm glad I didn't say that to her face! She asked about my name and told me that 'Sunny' suited me after the help I'd given her when she was down, which was very touching.

She winced when she moved her shoulder and when I asked she said her shoulders were stiff and painful. I did a little investigation and it seemed to be her trapezius and/or rhomboideus muscles so I offered to give her a massage. She eventually agreed and thought I meant to massage her right there and then but given that kneeling on concrete was pretty damn painful for me, that she was already shivering from the cold and the thick shirt and sports bra below wouldn't make massage very effective, I said we needed to go inside and she led me up to her flat. I stopped in here on the way up to pick up my treatments bag.