Authors: Clare Lydon
Vic slammed the car door shut and it flashed then beeped as Stevie locked it and walked towards the pub, Vic falling in beside her. Vic was a couple of inches shorter than Stevie and her short, brown hair was in need of a cut, her blue shirt creased from hours in the car.
“You remember who we have to ask for?” Vic pushed the heavy, black pub door open.
Stevie rolled her eyes – Vic’s memory was shocking.
The Flowerpot turned out to be a solid local pub and fairly large by London standards. In the Big Smoke it’d be called a gastro pub, but in Devon the pubs were just where you ate and didn’t need to be dressed up with a fancy name. The wooden bar was directly ahead as they walked in but the pub spread out in all directions, with tables tucked into nooks and corners everywhere they looked.
Vic and Stevie stood at the bar, waiting to be served by a tall brunette with hair beyond her shoulders and a winning smile. She gave her previous customer their change and then turned the same smile on them.
“What can I get you?”
“We’re looking for Grace or Tom?” Stevie rested her elbow on the impressively polished brass that ran around the edge of the bar.
“That’s easy, that’s me,” said the barmaid, grinning wider if that was possible. “Well, the Grace bit at least.” She paused. “Tom’s not back from one of our suppliers yet, was meant to be but got stuck in traffic.” Grace gave Stevie a ‘whatchagonnado?’ shrug. “So I was hanging on for you guys. You must be Stevie?” she continued, her voice rising at the end of her sentence.
Stevie picked her accent as Australian. “That’s me,” she said, shaking Grace’s offered hand across the bar. “And this is Vic.” Stevie indicated her wife, who gave Grace a shy wave.
“Stevie like Stevie Nicks?” Grace enthused.
Stevie smiled like she’d never heard that one before and gave Grace a nod.
“Way cool!” Grace said. “Let me just go and find Pete to man the bar and I’ll get the keys. Do you have a car?”
“Outside,” Stevie said, flicking her head in its direction.
“Great – gimme two ticks.”
Grace dutifully reappeared in a couple of minutes, keys dangling from her well-manicured fingers.
“Okay, ready,” she said. It was a statement, not a question.
Vic and Stevie followed her out the pub door which was no mean feat – Grace moved at some speed. It was probably why she stayed so slim – nervous energy. Stevie knew, she suffered with the same issue.
“Now don’t worry, I’m not going to come with you and show you round the house – it’s all in the welcome pack and it’s pretty self-explanatory. Besides, I hate it when owners are too overbearing,” Grace said, handing Stevie two sets of keys.
Up close and out from behind the bar, Grace was an imposing presence, standing a few inches taller than Stevie with an attractive figure to match her face. She was dressed simply in jeans and a green top, sunglasses atop her head. Stevie would lay bets the shades were a permanent feature, whatever the weather.
“Front and back doors are marked on the keys,” Grace said, pointing at them in Stevie’s palm. “I hope two sets is enough? It usually is…”
“Should be fine,” Stevie said.
“That’s it, really. Have a great time and any problems, call me on my mobile. The number’s in the pack or pop into the pub. We run it so one of us should be here.”
“Sounds great,” Vic said. “We’re probably just going to dump our stuff and come back for some food anyway.”
“Great!” Grace’s positivity was infectious. “Our chef Evan is awesome. He’s Aussie too, so I trust him 100%. Just drive straight out of here,” Grace continued, directing them with her hands. “First left and then right at the top of the hill and there’s the house. It’s Tom’s family house – we love it, so hope you do too. I’ll be round Monday lunchtime so just leave the keys inside. Have fun!”
Grace waved as she rounded the corner of the pub, fishing her phone from her handbag as she did. They heard the beep of a car lock as they unlocked their own and got back in.
“Well she was super-friendly.” Stevie put the key in the ignition. “Do you think everyone in Devon is going to be the same?”
“Nah, we’re sure to meet the odd psychopath too.” Vic clicked her seatbelt into place. “Law of averages, isn’t it?”
Kat & Abby
“How you feeling?” Abby looked at Kat, her brow furrowed.
Kat’s mouth twitched in response.
They were standing in Abby’s kitchen – Kat had just turned up on Thursday afternoon and demanded tea, her tan suitcase standing ready in the hall.
“Okay I think.” Kat shrugged as she looked around the kitchen and fixed her stare on the mug tree. “Honestly, I won’t know how I’ll deal with it till we’re there. But I’m sure it’ll be fine – I’m a big girl and I can look after myself.” Kat put her hand on her hip. “Besides, these are my oldest and bestest friends, so if I can’t be honest with them, who can I be honest with?”
Kat smiled her winning smile to back up her words, but Abby didn’t look like she bought it. Just like all the other times Kat had tried to convince her.
Abby went to say something, then clearly thought better of it.
Kat was pleased – right now, they needed to hit the road as they were already running behind schedule.
“Are you finished packing?” Kat leant against Abby’s granite counter and sipped her cup of tea. She made a face: Abby had forgotten the sugar.
“Sorry.” Abby turned to grab it.
“You’d think you’d remember after six months.”
Abby smiled. “You’d think you’d be sugar-free after all my nagging.”
Kat took the bowl from Abby’s outstretched hand. “I am down to one.”
“Yeah, yeah. Anyway, I’m nearly finished – just need to bung in a hairdryer.”
“I think they have them there.” Kat stirred her tea, took a sip and smiled this time.
“Yeah, but it’s probably from the 1980s,” Abby said over her shoulder as she disappeared into the hallway and then the bedroom. Abby said something else but it got muffled as she was too far away.
Kat picked up her tea and followed her.
Kat had always particularly liked Abby’s cool, minimalist bedroom and remembered being impressed with its decor and vibe as much as its owner the first time she’d come back here. She leant on the white glossy doorframe and watched Abby zip up her suitcase, her cool, ultra-styled Afro bouncing as she did.
“What’d you say?” Kat asked.
“Huh?”
“Just then, you shouted something through.”
Abby screwed up her face and paused, before shaking her head. “Dunno, can’t remember.”
She got out her iPhone and checked it, as was her habit. Abby got her work email directed to her phone so she had no escape. Beyond that, she was also a technology junkie who got shifty if she was away from a viable internet connection for more than five minutes. How she was going to cope this weekend in the Devon countryside – not known for its robust phone reception – was anyone’s guess.
Abby walked over to Kat and slid her arms around her waist, rubbing her back as she did. Abby and Kat were around the same height although Abby’s hair could sometimes make her appear almost a foot taller.
“Oooh, I remember now.” Abby leant in for a quick kiss – her lips were dry. “I was asking whether you’d seen where we’re going – did you have a look at the email?”
Kat shook her head. “Nah, didn’t get a chance. But I trust Stevie – she’s a genius at this sort of stuff.”
“The place looks absolutely amazing – the lounge especially looks out onto the sea. Can’t wait to see it in the flesh.”
Kat ran her hand down the side of Abby’s face, amazed as she always was at the contrasting colour of her white skin to Abby’s deep Ghanaian black.
“We’re going to have an amazing Easter weekend and you’ll love all my friends – promise, they’re ace.” She kissed her girlfriend slowly, gently.
Abby deepened the kiss and ran a hand over Kat’s curved buttock – it was her favourite part of her body. They both pulled back a few minutes later, Abby’s eyes full of desire.
“So do you think there’s time?” Abby lifted an eyebrow.
Kat smiled, but already knew the answer. Since she’d started on the pills her libido had been flatlining and she was scared at her lack of interest in sex, it having always been a favourite pastime of hers.
The beep of Abby’s phone broke the moment and Kat knew she’d been saved. Abby had been extremely patient, but their fledging relationship was being tested. After just six months you were still meant to be jumping each other’s bones at every chance you got.
Abby fished her phone out of her back pocket, broke their hold and stepped back. She pressed her screen a few times, frowned, then cursed. Getting these two days off had been a bone of contention between the two of them, what with Abby’s work having a new appraisal system installed and her being head of HR. Abby was the queen of telling her staff to take their holiday within their entitlement time, but not so great at taking her own advice.
“Sorry, I gotta respond to this. Can you give me five minutes?” Abby ushered Kat out the door and closed it gently.
Kat waited outside, sipping her tea as she heard Abby get through to her colleague Nick who she could picture sat at his desk in one of his trademark stripy shirts. Kat remembered when she used to be glued to her work Blackberry too, replying to emails at midnight, checking incoming mail from Japan at 4am. Not anymore.
No, Kat wasn’t sure how this weekend was going to pan out, but she was going to use it to reconnect with some old friends who she’d been pushing away of late while she tried to sort herself out. Only Abby knew the truth of the last six months; only her old friends knew the truth of her life. Kat was taking a leap of faith merging the two together – would they embrace or repel each other?
Geri
Geri had endured a shit week and today hadn’t been much better. She’d gone into policing because she had a vague notion she wanted to help people but she could just as easily have landed a selfish job with her degree. A job in a bank maybe, just like her mate Kat. Kat worked long hours too, but she got to wear power suits and go to swanky wine bars,
and
pulled in over three times her salary.
Plus, when Kat said she worked in finance, fewer people seemed to sneer than when they caught sight of Geri’s police badge. Geri was still at a loss to know why, considering Kat’s business had brought the country to its knees, whereas her only crime was to protect the public from criminals and make the world a safer place. Life wasn’t fair.
On the plus side, Geri was now a CID sergeant in London. As well as a desire to help others, the desire to be Christine Cagney had always been at the forefront of Geri’s life and she’d achieved her dream. A by-product of that dream was that it made her ridiculously attractive to women, something that’d never been lost on Geri. The job had its perks. Also, she now had four whole days off in a row.
Four, including a weekend.
It was almost unprecedented.
Today, her boss had been a royal pain in the arse, a stickler for protocol and paperwork which was the bane of her existence. It wasn’t what she got into policing for – if she’d wanted an office job, she would have applied for one. She bet Christine Cagney never put up with this shit.
Geri had been looking forward to the weekend away for weeks but she wasn’t feeling the love today: she was coming to the end of her period and her body was sluggish, her stomach still bloated. Geri shook her head again at Mother Nature, so insistent that she have the option to breed every month. Geri had no desire to do so, despite what her mother kept hinting. As far as Geri could see, mothers did nothing but irritate your life.
Geri swallowed down two more Nurofen Plus as she zipped up her bag before heading out the door, tucking her brown, freshly straightened hair behind her right ear as she did one final check in the mirror. She’d looked better, she’d looked worse.
The deadlock clunked shut as Geri turned the key in the front door. She crossed Highbury Green where the lush grass was in need of a cut and noticed for the first time this year that the sun was yet to set – the clocks had gone forward last week. Spring was her favourite season, the promise of so much. Despite her sarcastic and dour demeanour, Geri was a hopeless romantic who always believed this was going to be her year.
This year, for sure.
She waited an eternity at the traffic lights as always, so texted Laura to make sure she was still on for picking her up. Eventually, the green crossing man illuminated and the crowd of pedestrians walked across the road to the tube, the drivers glaring at them as they went.
Once inside the tube Geri got swept along with rush-hour commuters, so she concentrated on getting the correct train and on what to do once she got to Paddington. After careful thought she decided to make a stop at Marks & Spencer for some food and wine for the journey, perhaps some fancy chocolate too. Or even a cake. She was on holiday after all, so calorie count be damned.
The Arrival
Advertised as a seaside retreat, their home for the weekend had nothing but fantastic reviews online. Vic and Stevie were hoping it lived up to its cracking credentials and first impressions didn’t disappoint. Vic whistled through her teeth as they swept down the horseshoe drive and pulled up outside the black garage door.
“How much would this cost in London?” Vic assessed the double-fronted house ahead that possessed both style and grandeur. “Looks absolutely enormous.”
“I bet it costs a pretty penny down here, too.” Stevie wasted no time getting out of the car and stretching again. After a few seconds, she popped her head back inside. “But just for this weekend, let’s pretend it’s all ours.”
“You’re on.”
Vic’s feet crunched on the gravel as she rounded the car and unlocked the boot, hauling their grey suitcases out of their confinement. She still held the view they’d packed too much for a long weekend but Stevie had told her if it could fit in the car, it was coming with them.
These days, Vic didn’t make arguments where they weren’t strictly necessary, so she’d said nothing.