The Long Weekend (22 page)

Stevie broke the spell with a nudge to her elbow. “Hey – isn’t that TJ?”

Geri’s gaze followed the line of Stevie’s outstretched arm. She blinked and did a double-take, her mind saying the woman putting on her jeans at the far end of the changing rooms couldn’t possibly be TJ – but it looked a heck of a lot like her. Just then, the woman bent over and Geri saw the tell-tale tattoo she’d kissed only that morning. What were the chances?

“I think it is.” Geri gazed in TJ’s direction. Perhaps this was a sign.

Stevie nudged her again. “You gonna go and say hi?”

The question hung in the air blinking and Geri wasn’t sure what the right answer was. TJ had made it abundantly clear their liaison was a one-night thing, their parting final. And no matter how much Geri would like the situation to be different, playing it cool seemed the right option. Even though every sinew of her body wanted to go up and kiss that tattoo just one more time.

“I don’t think so.” Geri gave Stevie a wry smile.

But Stevie wasn’t buying it. “Come on!” Stevie got up and dragged Geri by the arm. “Let’s just go and say hi. I’m not suggesting you propose.”

Geri didn’t put up much of a fight – she knew it was Stevie’s mission to find true love for all. As they advanced down the changing room, Geri checked her hair in one of the many mirrors and tried to ignore the red flags her mind was waving.

Stevie had pushed Geri into matador mode.

“Hey TJ,” Geri heard Stevie say, alarmed at how easy the words slipped out of her mouth. Geri had been wondering what her opening salvo should be, but her mouth had dried up at the thought. Stevie had saved her the trouble. Geri’s heart was in her throat, every sense on high alert.

TJ spun round, jeans fastened but topless. Her jaw dropped so fast when she saw the two of them that Geri swore she heard it hit the floor and bounce down the changing room, quickly followed by TJ’s bravado.

Something wasn’t right. Soon enough, Geri discovered what.

A tall brunette walked across Geri’s path and up to TJ before putting a hand on her back and whispering something into her ear.

TJ laughed in response and kissed her cheek.

Then TJ’s eyes met Geri’s again over this woman’s shoulder.

Geri looked into them and saw a world of panic.

Time slowed, the rest of the changing room faded out and the camera panned round to a different angle of this meeting. This time though, it was Geri who held all the power. However, now she had the upper hand, Geri was less than sure she wanted it. Goddamn it, why hadn’t she just stayed sitting down?

And then the tall brunette turned and addressed Stevie. “Hey! How are you – having a good weekend?”

Geri looked at Stevie, confused. This woman knew Stevie? Geri could see panic flooding Stevie’s eyes now too, although the smile on her face didn’t betray it.

“Hi Grace – yeah really good thanks, the house is amazing. We just came over to say hi to TJ after we met in the pub last night – this is my friend Geri,” Stevie continued, as if this was the most natural conversation in the world.

Grace shook Geri’s hand warmly.

Geri’s blood stilled in her veins.

“Grace owns the house,” Stevie explained to Geri, nodding to confirm the point a little too much.

Grace gave Geri a full-on smile, before bending down to retrieve her make-up bag from the bench.

TJ took the opportunity to slip on a red T-shirt hanging on a hook in front of her, not stopping to put on her bra first. Clearly, nakedness was something she’d rather not introduce to this increasingly delicate situation.

“Well, it’s Tom’s actually,” Grace said, running a hand through her long hair. “Old family heirloom. Your granddad built it, didn’t he?” she said to TJ.

Blocks of gritty reality slotted into place in Stevie and Geri’s mind, neither daring to look at the other for now.

Tom. TJ was Tom. Tom was not a man. Tom was a woman. Tom was TJ.

Geri saw a muscle in TJ’s jaw click as she fixed her with a gaze.

TJ had come back to her own family house and fucked her. For once, Geri was lost for words.

TJ, however, had no such qualms. “Yep, clever man my granddad – the views are amazing, aren’t they?” TJ styled it out with aplomb, staring Stevie straight in the eye.

Bizarrely, Stevie found herself following suit, agreeing with TJ and Grace. She commented on the views (“astounding”), the kitchen (“light and airy”), the wooden floors (“really bring warmth and character”).

And then there was quiet, a gap in the conversation, an assessment of where they were at. And while it was clear Grace wanted to get to the mirror to do her make-up, the other three just wanted to get away and pretend like this had never happened.

Geri in particular wanted to wind back the clock to this time yesterday, before they’d even arrived at the pub.

“So glad you’re having a good weekend,” said Grace. “We’ll be at the pub later if you’re down. But we better get a wriggle on if we’re going to make lunch…” she said to TJ, glancing at her watch before kissing TJ on the lips.

Geri’s heart plummeted. She stepped back into the heat of Stevie’s sympathetic gaze.

Grace was still smiling, holding up her make-up bag in her left hand. Something sparkled under the changing room lights. On the fourth finger of Grace’s left hand. Her wedding finger. She was wearing an engagement ring
and
a wedding ring.

Geri dropped her gaze to TJ’s left hand and saw what was not there last night: a wedding ring. In fact, TJ had no rings on last night. But Geri remembered her putting some on that morning when she’d been hurrying out of her bedroom. After she’d just spent the previous night having sex with her.

The room span slightly.
Didn’t stuff like this only happen in films?

“Anyway, we better get off for our treatments. Good to see you again,” Stevie said, indicating over her shoulder with her thumb as if she was hitching a ride.

“You too,” Grace said. Chatty, friendly, good looking… just what Geri didn’t need her to be.

“What are you having?” Grace asked Stevie.

“Massage,” Stevie replied.

TJ was frozen solid beside Grace, a smile slapped in place.

“Oh you’ll love it, they’re amazing here, the best. This was my Easter present wasn’t it, gorgeous?” Grace snaked an arm around TJ’s waist.

Geri wanted to turn away, but she couldn’t stop staring. TJ and Grace were married.

Grace continued: “And she surprised me with a naughty chocolate egg this morning when I got back. Not good for the waistline, but you know.” Grace patted her impossibly flat, tanned stomach and kissed TJ on the cheek one more time.

Grace’s words winded Geri, already bruised by their connection. Geri would bet everything she owned that Grace had been given a Smarties egg.

“Have a good lunch.” Stevie grabbed Geri’s arm just as she had a few fateful minutes earlier.

“Good to see you again,” TJ said, her face stoic.

Geri turned on her heel, feeling the cool of the tiles beneath her feet and propelled herself back to her group. The others were all swamped in their robes and slippers when they returned.

“Where’d you go?” Vic asked. “We were all chatting and then you wandered off.”

Geri looked over her shoulder, saw Grace laughing at something TJ had said and shook her head.

“Nothing – just a case of mistaken identity,” she told Vic, fixing Stevie with a stare that told her ‘not now’.

Stevie muttered to Vic she’d fill her in later.

Vic was confused but left it. “Get changed, it’s nearly time.” Vic led the others to the door. “See you at reception?”

Stevie and Geri nodded in unison.

With the others gone, Stevie and Geri concentrated on getting changed – as well as not turning their heads in a certain direction. Having something to focus on was a welcome distraction and within minutes they were stripped, robed and ready to go.

“You okay?” Stevie rubbed Geri’s back lightly.

Geri gave her a rueful smile. “Just swell,” she replied.

“Look on the bright side,” Stevie told her. “At least you’re not married to her.”

Kat

Back at the house, Kat was vertical and on the move. She’d eaten the two slices of toast Geri had brought to her and could now stand upright without wanting to vomit. Things were definitely looking up so it was time for an adventure.

Kat put a foot on the stairs, her knuckles white as she gripped the bannister.
She could do this.
She made it to the bottom and cursed – she had no socks on. She saw Stevie’s slippers by the pile of shoes and slid them on – not only were they luxuriously furry inside, they were still warm.

She stuck her head around the lounge door and noted its calm, its quiet. She walked through the hall and stared at the bizarre artwork on the walls which looked like somebody had just thrown the dregs of their paint pots at a canvas and then rolled around in them. They probably cost a fortune but Kat didn’t get modern art; didn’t get much art, come to that.

Sure, Kat had been to a zillion gallery openings with her job – correction, her former job. She’d drunk the free Champagne and eaten the free canapés, but it was all a charade, a lie that Kat had created.

She caught sight of herself in the hall mirror. Puffy eyes, cartoon hair, black bags, spots sprouting. Her old paramours, of which there had been many, would run a mile. Or perhaps, like Abby, they’d see Kat as a project, one they could swoop in and save.

If Abby were here now she’d be trying to flush Kat’s system with water and tough love. Kat felt a faint pang of loss, of missing Abby’s voice, her lips, her smell of expensive body creams – L’Occitane, Decleor, Bliss.

Kat tore her face away from her reflection and forced herself back to the moment. No point living in the past – Abby was gone. Kat’s lip trembled. She ignored it.

The kitchen had also been left pristine – Kat marvelled at the tidiness of her mates. That they’d all deserted her wasn’t lost on her, either.

Maybe Abby had been right. Perhaps her friends
were
all too wrapped up in their own lives and their own problems to care about her.
Well, fuck them
.

Kat opened a number of cupboards before she thought to check the fridge and hit the jackpot. Wine and vodka heaven.

She grabbed a wine glass from the cupboard and placed it on the counter-top, unscrewing the top from the bottle of Oyster Bay – she could count on her mates to get good wine. She heard the liquid hit the glass and smiled. Then Kat took the lid from the bottle of Smirnoff: it was blue, not the usual red, and she wondered if that meant it was stronger. She felt a twinge of excitement. Kat swigged, winced and blew out hard as she felt the vodka slide down. Only then did she smile as she felt the familiar buzz seep into her system.

The bottles were cold against Kat’s bare arms as she carried them into the lounge. She put her goodies on the wooden side table and set herself up looking out over the ocean. Kat raised her wine glass in a toast to Jesus, it being Easter Sunday and all. Then she downed half the glass in one.

Kat wasn’t religious but her family were. This morning would have been a church date to give thanks for Jesus’s uprising, singing hymns out of tune beside crumbling parishioners. Her mum, sister and three nephews all in a row, her mum having polished her shoes especially for the occasion, her nephews’ faces sullen.

Kat closed her eyes before downing the rest of her glass of wine. She followed it up with another slug of vodka. She twisted the bottle round in her hands, condensation wetting her fingers. Somebody must have brought this back from their travels – probably Darren. He’d be annoyed with her for drinking it, seeing as it was the least calorific option available. Kat smiled wryly.

She tipped the bottle and took another slug for good measure. Her blood warmed, her body relaxed. She was two steps closer to normal but more booze was needed. Perhaps some snacks too, just to give it the edge of civility, to take the focus away from the fact she was drinking alone mid-afternoon.

But she wouldn’t be alone for long. Soon her friends would be back to take care of her and they’d all laugh and have a drink, too. Then she’d be normal again, a social drinker in a crowd. Perhaps she should have some of her pills, too – she hadn’t taken them for a few days and her doctor would be cross.

Kat refilled her wine glass and gulped it down in four healthy swigs. She wanted to get to the edge now, this was her unconfirmed plan. The smooth liquid coated her throat and danced on her tongue. For a brief moment, Kat was utterly content.

The Massage

Knots tangled, muscles sore. Limbs pummelled, skin smooth. Lavender, jasmine, geranium. Panpipes in the air, the fake sound of the ocean breaking on the sands. Long, warm beds with hot towels. Candles, relaxed breathing, eyes flickering open, then closed. Footsteps shuffling in, out, around. Sounds muffled, oil slick.

***

Geri’s head was pressed into the massage bed’s hole – white leather, like looking through a giant polo. She shifted her forehead until it was comfortable and then tried to relax. Easier said than done.

Her masseur told her she felt tense.

Geri wasn’t the least bit surprised. He’d feel tense too if he’d had the day she’d had.

Geri saw TJ’s face, felt her lips, the shape of TJ inside her. She shifted on the bed and the therapist asked if she was okay. Was he pressing too hard?

Geri mumbled no. She tried to shake her thought process but it was stuck rigid like a high-speed train, never leaving its track and slicing through everything in its path.

Geri could see TJ’s wife clearly, too. So happy to be with her today, an Easter treat. Chocolate, massage, dinner. They were having identical days, only TJ fucked Geri in the morning and it was Grace’s turn in the evening.

Geri closed her eyes and blew out. She could not quite get over the fact she’d given her an Easter egg and fallen for her lines. What a fucking idiot.

Geri tried to block it out, to engage with the hands on her, to feel and not to think. Her mind had other ideas. She’d known in her heart this couldn’t work out, of course she had. Geri lived in London, TJ lived in Devon. But a wife? That took it to a whole new level of deceit, of cunning.