London Harmony: Flotilla (7 page)

She was saying what I had already observed about the overly chipper Indian-Brit. I nodded my agreement and said, “She definitely is... something.”

She chuckled, then flopped the other end of the throw over my legs, saying, “Yes... something.” Then she shrugged. “You know the rest of the story. We had a place to live while I got my feet back under me, both figuratively and literally. The various Flotilla programs were a godsend. I found a job once I was more able and then Paya found us this flat once my income was fairly stable.”

Then she straightened her legs under the throw and shoved my leg playfully with her feet, “And she corralled an odd duck who speaks of roos and feeds children two helpings of pudding, to help out in our move.”

I couldn't stop my toothy grin at that. Yes, odd duck fit me well. I defended weakly, “Gramps was Aussie, through and through. I can't help if I picked up some of his idioms before he passed when I was little. He was the most colorful character I have ever had the pleasure of knowing. Of course he's the only family I still claim as my own, God rest his soul. Well, I guess I have a cousin in the America's. Roberta Valentine, but I've never met her.”

She sighed and looked at me expectantly. “And I'll use that opportunity unabashedly and shamelessly to segue into how you came to find yourself in London.”

Shite, the tricky wench. I smiled at her as I shook my head and said, “Shameless indeed.” I sighed. “I guess I owe it to you.”

She nodded incessantly with a crooked smirk as she agreed, “Yes. Yes, you do.” See? Shameless.

I hesitated realizing her feet were still touching me, I didn't know how to tell her my story without revealing the root of the conflicts in Manchester that made me cut all ties and reinvent myself in a more accepting city.

I held my breath and made an admission that I hadn't made since I told my family since everything that was bad in my life began. I said to the woman who was looking at me with rapt attention, “I guess I should preface everything by stating that I'm gay.”

I stared at her unblinking, waiting for a reaction, waiting for her to pull away, to react in any way. It was my experience that the admission could only be met with negative responses or outright hostility. Yet she just slowly cocked her head when I didn't continue. She didn't pull away. She prompted with her palm, “Aaaand?”

Bloody hell. I narrowed my eyes in question as I asked, “You... knew?”

She blinked in surprise then actually chuckled with a hand over her mouth. Then composed herself as she said, “You sort of broadcast over all frequencies, Ange.”

It was my turn to blink in surprise. I stuttered out, “I-I do?” Then I blanched, oh dear lord in heaven, I wasn't that obvious to her was I? I blushed.

Then I pleaded, “Please don't tell Paya. I... I haven't told her yet.”

She actually snorted. Then she laid a hand on my arm and said, “Oh, you're serious. Umm, pretty sure she knows, Ange. You do realize she won't have a problem with it, right?”

I shrugged and admitted hopefully, “She doesn't seem the type that would, but then again, neither did my family. I sort of... well I really like working for her and the Flotilla so I didn't want to chance it.”

She sighed and said plainly, “You do know that Tabby Cat is lesbian right? She's married to her manager, Teri... and Paya couldn't be happier. She and Paya have been best friends since before the wheel was invented. Not to mention that possibly half of Paya's close friends are also gay. It doesn't matter to her, nor to anyone truly informed or civilized. So what if you're gay, I collect napkins from every restaurant I visit. They're in a box in the closet.”

I gaped at her, shook myself out of it, then asked with a smirk, “Napkins? That's just odd you know?”

She chuckled in mirth then said in a reassuring tone, “I've sussed out most of your reasons for you leaving Manchester, so how bout you tell me your story and leave my napkins out of this.”

I nodded and mouthed, “Napkins?” Before starting my tale, feeling much more relaxed, the fear and anxiety of her reactions washed away in our banter.

I looked outside as some lightning flashed. The storm showed no signs of letting up.

I settled back into the couch and shrugged then started to tell my story to someone for the first time ever. “There really isn't much to say. When I was growing up, I was noticing I was a little different than the other girls in class. I think it was in the eighth or ninth grade when I realized what it was.”

I shrugged and admitted, “When all the other girls were swooning over Conrad Chase or cute boys in our class, I was more interested in watching Donna Hadley as she went on about them with the other girls in class. I hid my attraction to her and my crushes I had on stars like J8 who had just hit the scene, knowing I wasn't 'normal' like the other girls.”

I thought about it a bit, at how long ago it all seemed to me. I exhaled and continued, “It all came to a head in my senior year of secondary. My family had always been so loving and supportive of my two brothers and me. I had finally gained the courage to admit to them my secret. They had encouraged us kids at every juncture and loved us without reserve. I knew without a doubt in my heart that they would understand and stand by me.”

I soured and looked out the window, watching the rain as it blew against the glass, far away lightning arced across the dark sky, creating brilliant snapshots of the darkened city stretching out in all directions. I counted the seconds until the thunder came.

I glanced back over at Steph when she grabbed my hand and shook my fingers gently to knock me out of the black pit I had dug my mind into again.

I considered her then sat up a bit to really look at her in the candle light, then asked her offhandedly, “Do your parents love you?”

She cocked her head, not taking her eyes off of me and said slowly, “My father did before he passed, mum was never in the picture, so I'm not sure about her. If she did, why did she leave us? I can't fathom that after I've had children of my own.”

I nodded, feeling like a tosser for bringing up a sore subject for her. I said, “I'm sorry. I didn't know.” Feeling the apology was inadequate to the task.

She shrugged and gave me that half-smile of hers which I liked so much. “How would you? It's fine.”

I nodded then asked, “Well as a mum yourself. Would you support your children even in adversity? Unconditionally? And love them even if others may view them or their actions with disfavor?”

She nodded and answered without hesitation, almost before I finished the question, “Of course. They are my life.”

I nodded at that, knowing it to be true of this woman. Then I said in resignation, “I thought that of my parents too until the day I sat down at the dinner table and admitted to them and my brothers that I was gay.”

I sighed and shared, “My parents were taken aback, and father ranted. Mum seemed to pull away and was shamed. Her first words were, 'What am I going to tell the bridge club?'”

I looked up, eyes watering at the poisonous memory and added, “My brothers couldn't even look at me after that. My father was mad at me all the time, telling me to stop this foolishness, that it was hurting mum.”

I almost growled, “They tried to get me to go to a 'clinic' to help fix me. Bloody hell, I wasn't broken. I had never thought my family to be hateful people, to be bigoted, but here with their own flesh and blood they were showing me their worst, and I was ashamed to be related to them for the first time in my life.”

I sighed and looked at the ceiling. “Near the end of the school year, they gave up on bringing me to therapists whom I wouldn't speak with, and they said it was hard to show tolerance of my rebellion.”

I glanced down as Stephanie grabbed my legs and lifted them to her lap, her head tilted as she listened with purpose, absorbing my words. I gave a sad smile and asked the void, “Was that all I was to them? No longer their daughter, whom they used to love, but someone to be tolerated?”

I bit my inner cheek hard to fight off tears and shrugged, saying in a wavering voice, “The day I turned eighteen I had to get out of that environment, it was suffocating me. I hated myself. I ran to London to start over, where nobody knew me and people didn't look down upon anyone who was different than themselves. London would be different.”

I grinned sarcastically at her at that, rolling my eyes and quipped, “So I was naive, sue me. But really, for the most part, people here are much more accepting, though as I learned, there will always be a certain amount of bigotry in the world.”

She nodded at that as she stroked my legs with her thumbs and offered, “When you stuff millions of people into such a small area, some wankers are bound to surface. All in all, London is far better than most places.”

I nodded once in agreement and admitted, “I simply love this city, it is always so alive, so vibrant. But it can also be a cruel place at times if you get dealt a bum hand. I guess that'd be true no matter where you lived. I lost my job when the big boxes came to town, then my flat in the span of a few weeks. I felt like I was being kicked while I was down and couldn't get my feet back under me. It all just sort of snowballs from there. You lose your own dignity, then find yourself one day nicking a sarnie from a shop, to eat in an alley because you hadn't eaten in days.”

She shook her head in disbelief and asked, “You didn't?”

I gave her a sheepish look and asked, “Where do you think Paya found me? Didn't she tell you?”

She shook her head with a smirk and said, “That woman wouldn't give out personal information about anyone she calls a friend if you threatened her.”

I thought about that for a moment and knew it was a true statement. I also knew that I counted Paya as one of my closest friends already.

She cocked her head and then said thoughtfully as she seemed to see right through me again. She said softly as she nodded to herself, “That explains a lot.”

I narrowed my eyes in question and prompted her, “Explains what?”

She shrugged and shook my legs playfully as she explained, “Why Paya didn't offer you placement in the Flotilla Project.”

I tilted my head in confusion and asked, “You like talking in riddles just to get my hackles up don't you, lady?”

She snorted loudly and covered her mouth, glancing at the roo's room with a cringe. We both paused and listened. I almost snorted too, if the thunder hadn't woke them, then a snort wouldn't. She said in a quieter tone, “She can instinctively read people like nobody else I have ever met. She knew you'd refuse even though you would desperately want to say yes. So she did what she does and helped you by making you help yourself. She's a good one for doing all she can to allow someone to keep their pride.”

I shrugged and looked away to the flickering candles as I said in a faraway voice, “Sometimes our pride is all we have left.”

She surprised me by saying, “You're pretty much a plonker then if you believe that your pride is all you have left.”

I turned back to her, and her green eyes shone with orange highlights from the flames, she was restraining a smile. Then she looked down at my legs, covered in the throw on her lap. She rested her hands on my legs, I could feel their heat radiating through the blanket.

She said without blinking as she locked eyes with me, “You've gone out of your way to help a stranger, many strangers, from what Paya says. The children love you to death, and they generally take quite some time to warm to strangers. Now you let your guard down to share your personal scars with someone you barely know, to show them they are not alone in a world that sometimes feels dark and overwhelming.”

She paused, looked away to reach over and grab her wine glass, took a sip, then put the glass back down. She looked back at me and smiled as she rested her hands back on my legs. “And you have new friends. To me, it sounds like you are a long way from having nothing but your pride left.”

I just sat there, breathing wordlessly, letting her words sink in. I did have those things. It was like it took the low spots to see the boundless possibilities again. I smiled and said, “Smarty pants.” I watched her smile and seem to preen smugly over my lame retort.

We shared a smile, and that's when the bloody electrics decided to come back to flickering life, ruining the mood. We both looked up to the light then each other and shared a chuckle as I swung my legs off of her and onto the ground. I braced my arms on the couch in preparation to stand and said with lament in my tone, “That would be my cue I suppose.”

She stood with me.

I pulled my mobile from my pocket and said as I rang for a cab, “I'm sure Paya will have some new and entertaining tasks lined up for me early.”

She just nodded, still studying me. It was starting to make me feel self-conscious. She finally just smiled warmly, her left eye and cheek twitching as she asked as she looked back at the children's room, “And I'll need to find a sitter for the next few days. At least tomorrow is Saturday.”

I knew an invitation when I didn't hear one and crinkled my nose at her as I said, “I'll speak with Paya, I'm sure there won't be a problem if I sit with the roos a couple more days.”

Her smile bloomed like a flower seeking the sunlight, and it made me blush a little. She said, “Grand. You really are an angel, Ange. The little hellions will be thrilled.”

I placed my call to hide my delight at her words, then she walked me to the door. I put on my coat and grabbed my brolly, glancing at the window to verify that the rain showed no signs of letting up. She held onto the door edge as she opened it for me.

I was feeling bashful as I said while looking down, “So I'll give you a ring after I speak with Paya.”

I looked up, and she nodded and started to lean in on reflex, again I knew it was from years of marriage, and she diverted to give me a peck on the cheek. “Right then, speak with you then.” She started to close the door behind me but paused when it was open just a crack, and she scolded, “And you don't need an excuse to visit Angie, drop by anytime. That's what friends do.”

Before I could say a thing, she closed the door, and I watched the little red light on the lock light up. I smiled hugely, I guess we were friends now weren't we? I'm all kinds of socially awkward, and feel like a muppet around new people now, but not around Steph or the roos.

I almost skipped down the stairs and paused at the doors in the lobby to shoot off a text to... my sneaky employer. I chuckled as I again wondered how I wound up working for her when neither of us has even said it. “Steph and munchkins are sans sitter tomorrow.”

She replied immediately. “I'll drop you at the Tennison in the morning. I can do without you a couple days or so, I'll leave all the heavy lifting for when I get you back in my clutches.”

I chuckled and pocketed the mobile and looked out into the dreary night, waiting for the taxi to pull up. I noticed some movement in the darkness across the lane, someone was huddling in the alley. I swallowed heavily, that could easily have been me out there.

I seemed to notice all the people that were invisible to me once upon a time, the street people who used to just be background noise in a bustling city. I was a little ashamed that I had never given them much notice until I found myself in their shoes.

Now I saw each and every single one I passed, and it physically hurt me, knowing that each of them had a story, each had scars. That each was a person.

I looked around then stepped out into the night, hustling to the alley, moving against the rain. When I got there, I found a man huddled under some cardboard he held above his head as he pressed against the wall of the alley, trying to use the roof overhang to keep some of the worst rain off of him.

He was positively soaked and looked chilled to the bone. I said to him, “Hello there. Are you right?”

I startled the man. He glanced up at me and then just slowly nodded. I absently touched my bag then quickly pulled out the plain white envelope and held it out to the man. I had felt guilty taking my day's pay from Paya when I was glad to help out Steph, and the roos were a delight. Besides, what kind of sitter gets fifty quid a day?

I said to him, “Here, get yourself a room for the night, it's not fit out for man nor beast tonight. And get some warm food into you.”

He looked at me then the envelope, and he slowly reached out to take it, his eyes narrowed like I was toying with him. I understood the look, I had worn the same one before, most recently when a crazy Indian-Brit offered me fifty pounds to help someone move.

He looked in the envelope then up to me again, then did a double take. I smiled at the man and said, “Have a great night...” I paused and pushed the handle of the umbrella toward him. “Take this, I won't need it, I have a cab coming.”

He started to refuse, “No miss, you'll get soaked.”

I just pressed it into his hand and covered his hand with my other, giving it a little squeeze. I winked and said, “I'll be fine, I won't melt.” I glanced back to see the cab pulling up across the way, and I took off in a jog, calling back with emphasis, “A room and a hot meal.”

He nodded, looking to be half in shock then he called out as an afterthought, “Thank you, miss.”

I was in such a good mood as I slipped into the taxi, soaked all the way down to my bones. I wiped water from my hair and eyes as I told the cabbie, “The Flotilla on the Thames please.” He just looked at me in the rearview mirror and nodded once, and we were on our way.