The Long Weekend (28 page)

Read The Long Weekend Online

Authors: Clare Lydon

“One, two, three, blue vein!” Darren cried.

Everyone grinned widely.

When they looked back on this photo in five years’ time, they wouldn’t remember Darren’s puerile joke. They’d just see their huge grins and think about that long weekend in Devon, time sanding the edges of emotion so that all that was left were black-and-white emotions, no room for hangovers, sugar spikes and tiredness. They’d all think they must have had a good time judging by their faces. All apart from Kat, who was elsewhere.

“It’s a good one,” Darren said. “I’ll post it on Facebook later along with all the others. I thought we’d wait till we showed Kat first.”

Stu shot him a surprised but impressed look, dangling Kat’s car keys in his right hand. He walked forwards and lifted the boot, inserting first his and then Darren’s bags inside.

There was a chorus of slamming boots and then they reconvened and formed a huddle on the drive.

“Same time in five years, then?” Laura said to nobody in particular.

“Yep,” Geri agreed. “But we’ll see you at that lezza night next month first, right?”

Laura nodded. “Promise – we really will make it this time.”

“Yeah, yeah!” Geri waved a hand. Laura and Tash had been promising for the past six months.

“We’ll definitely be there, whatever.” Stevie leant in to hug Geri, squeezing her friend extra-tight.

Vic followed suit, her pat on Geri’s back light.

Tash, Laura, Darren, Stu. Kisses one cheek, two cheeks, lips.

“Drive safe, sweet cheeks!” Laura told Vic, pressing firmly on her back.

“You too, fiancée,” Vic smirked.

Laura stuck her tongue out at her as she walked towards her car.

Vic ran back to the porch to leave the keys, realising they were still in her pocket. Then she dashed back to a waiting Stevie, already drumming her fingers on the dashboard.

“Let us know how Kat is – drop me a text. Tell her I’ll give her a bell tomorrow,” Stevie shouted towards Kat’s car.

Stu waved his acknowledgement back before disappearing into the driver’s seat, Darren getting into the back with Geri riding shotgun.

“Wagons roll?” Stu asked.
      

Geri settled in her seat and turned to grab her seatbelt, which Darren was already thoughtfully holding out for her. Geri gave him a strange look.

“Wagons roll,” she replied.

 

 

The Final Chapter

 

Geri waited at the station, looking up at the departure board: her train was due in two minutes, bang on time. She was glad she’d upgraded her ticket to First Class on the way back – it was only an extra tenner and after the weekend she’d had, it seemed a wise decision. She felt like she’d been away on Mars and was looking forward to catching up with the world on her way home.

To her left on the platform were a family – mum, dad, two small boys. The kids were carrying buckets and spades, both with a small rucksack on, while the parents were weighed down with cases and bags. Their faces were flared hot.

To Geri’s right, a young woman with far too much fake tan was staring intently at her iPhone, scrolling with her thumb. She was wearing blue suede shoes, though, which impressed Geri. Just along from her was a man in his early 20s, an archetypal surfer dude. His blond hair was tussled and his stubble was a few day’s growth. He was also wearing shades, presumably to cover tired eyes.

Has his Easter been as eventful as mine?
Geri doubted it.

The announcer told Geri the train was due and she saw its grey hulk hoving into view, sliding along as if propelled by magic. She watched the First Class carriages slide by and began walking down the platform in their direction, matching or bettering the train’s speed. Geri’s bra cut into her body as she walked. She’d have to double her running schedule this week.

The train hissed as it halted and Geri picked up her pace, slinging her holdall over her shoulder and arriving at the door of her carriage just as the train doors opened. She made her way to seat C14 and found it was on a table of four, the other three mercifully empty for now. She hoped it stayed that way.

She lifted her bag with both hands, slotting it onto the overhead metal railings. She took off her leather jacket, smoothed back her brown hair and sunk into her First Class seat, tapping her pockets to check for phone, wallet, tickets. Check, check, check.

Geri sighed as she relaxed for what seemed like the first time today. She heard the train doors lock, felt it lurch and within seconds they were out of their concrete surrounds and dropped into green fields, the train unzipping them at nearly 100mph.

Geri’s mind meandered and it arrived at Kat.

When they’d arrived at the hospital, Kat had been waiting on a bench like she’d just finished a work shift. Stu had insisted he drove home and she’d given in fairly easily, still looking drained from her ordeal and lack of sleep.

They’d agreed Kat would move in with Geri for a bit, just until she got back on her feet. Well, Stu and Geri had agreed, with Kat frowning at the plan.

But tonight, Stu and Darren would drop Kat back at her flat and stay until Geri came to get her later. None of them wanted to leave her on her own, despite Kat’s protestations she’d be fine. Recent behaviour suggested otherwise.

Kat had just rolled her eyes and got in the back seat, before closing her eyes.

And now here Geri was, determined to make the most of her last time on her own, leaning her right ear on her headrest. It was that weird almost carpet-like material they seemed to favour for train and bus carriages – it made her ear itch and she rubbed it absentmindedly.

Geri closed her eyes and a semi-naked TJ popped into her head. She opened them immediately and shook her head in a bid to erase the image. It half worked.

The buffet car was in the adjacent carriage, so Geri got up and headed that way, looking out through the window as the South West countryside flew by. Near the door was a man in his thirties reading his Kindle, which meant Geri couldn’t do any in-depth analysis on his character, one of the snags of the Kindle generation. He was wearing a Ralph Lauren shirt and loafers, so she decided he was probably reading some high-powered business biography.

Geri pressed the illuminated button on the doors at the end of the carriage and stepped into the next one, eyes down and not looking where she was going. Consequently, she walked into a woman just leaving the buffet car.

“Sorry,” Geri said, flicking her eyes upwards.

“No problem.” The woman flashed Geri a smile that made her stop in her tracks.

Geri thought she recognised her, but then she didn’t. Geri frowned, then smiled.

The woman gave her an amused look.

Geri’s heart sped up and she could feel her face turning scarlet.

The woman was holding Geri with her eyes, almost willing her to say something else – but Geri was lost for words. The woman’s deep blue eyes were penetrative, her smile electric.

“Sorry again,” Geri muttered, blushing and squeezing past her in the narrow aisle. She heard the woman press the button, heard the doors hiss open and then shut. Geri shook her head. She always hoped that when she met an attractive woman these days, she would act differently than she had when she was 25. Apparently not.

Geri got her coffee and sandwich and walked back through the carriage, grabbing a headrest as the train lurched one way and then the other. She arrived back at her seat within minutes and was surprised to see the woman she’d just nearly run into sitting on her table of four, coffee and sandwich in hand.

“Oh – hi again.” Geri put her deli bag down on the table and shifted across to the window seat. She could feel another blush waiting to pounce as she sat down.

“Hi.” The woman was smiling at her, still amused. She had short cropped black hair and was wearing a simple black T-shirt that worked amazingly with her olive skin. She pinged Geri’s gaydar immediately.

Geri took out her coffee, sandwich and biscuits, not daring to look up, not trusting her words. Plus, she must look a state after the weekend she’d had. Tired, puffy, spotty. She wished she had her sunglasses. When Geri did eventually look up, though, she found the woman’s warm, interested gaze on her.

“Snap.” The woman indicated that the two of them had exactly the same lunch.

Geri smiled, making sure it was as wide as she could muster.

“Shall we try this again,” said the woman. She wiped non-existent crumbs from her fingers and held out her right hand.

Geri took in short fingernails and long, slim fingers. Geri’s heartbeat got louder still.

“Rachel,” she said. She took Geri’s hand and shook it warmly, fixing Geri with an intense stare. It had the required dazzling effect.

“Geri.” If she was feeling giddy, at least Geri’s voice sounded normal. She decided she could chance speaking again. “So is it any good?” Geri pointed towards the sandwich Rachel had already taken a bite of.

Rachel made a face. “It tastes like a train sandwich.” She paused, cupping her chin in her right palm. “I think it might need a while to warm up.” Rachel smiled, revealing teeth so straight she must have spent her entire teenage years in braces.

Geri smiled right back. “My friend Tash says all these sandwiches taste like fridge. It’s an acquired taste. I don’t think I’ll ever get the hang of it, though.”

At this, Rachel nodded, holding Geri with her unwavering gaze. “Me neither.” She blew on her coffee before pausing, then took a sip. “At least the coffee’s not too bad.” She flicked her eyes upwards. “But then, I’m a chef, so I’m hard to please.” Her smile lit up her face once more.

Geri sat up in her seat and took a sip of her coffee. “A chef?” A slow smile ploughed across her face. “Whereabouts do you work?”

“I’ve just opened up my own place in Islington. You probably don’t know it,” Rachel said.

“Try me,” Geri replied.

***
      

Tash leaned over and turned the volume up, belting out the chorus as loud as she possibly could.

“Hey baby, I think I wanna marry you!” She was grinning across the car at Laura, who was driving with a smirk.

“Bruno? Is that you?” Laura glanced to her left.

“I sing it way better than Bruno, you know that…” Tash replied.

Laura shifted in her seat, trying to find a more comfortable position for her back. They’d been on the road for over two hours and they still had another four to go. Still, at least it wasn’t raining and they weren’t arguing anymore.

The weekend had been surreal – Laura wasn’t sure what was in the water at these events but they never failed to enthral. This one had topped the lot: they’d nearly broken up and now they were engaged to be married. Plus, she looked like she’d done five rounds in the ring with someone. Laura glanced in her mirror and saw her colouring coming along nicely.

“What you thinking about?” Tash reached over and stroked Laura’s left thigh.

Laura felt Tash’s touch run through her entire body and smiled. “Just how this weekend has been a whirlwind and how I’m now the luckiest woman alive to have you as my fiancée.” Laura smiled at Tash, then winced. Yep, her face still hurt.

“Back at ya, sweetheart,” Tash replied.

***

“So how far have we got to go?” Stevie got back into the purple Fiesta, her knees clicking audibly as they bent in under the steering wheel. She’d just eaten a tuna sandwich at the services and had a half-drunk cup of coffee in her hand, which she wedged into her cup holder.

Vic propped the map on her lap and traced the line of the M4. “Well we’re at Leigh Delaware, so I’d say at least three hours. And that’s providing we don’t get stuck in traffic.”

“Are you not even going to turn the sat nav on?” Stevie arched an eyebrow.

“Nope.” Vic’s tone was defiant. “It was the sat nav’s fault on the way here, so I’m relying on me and my map. Never let me down before…”

“Can you put on a sexy voice like the sat nav at least though?” Stevie asked, grinning. She looked left and saw that Vic was smiling too.

“Whatever makes you happy, baby,” Vic said, lowering her voice and wiggling her left eyebrow. “We’ve got three hours to go until I can get you home and ravish you…”

Stevie threw back her head, laughing. “I’m definitely going to put my foot down now.”

Vic leant over and kissed her wife, before buckling up her seatbelt and stowing her coffee cup too.

“You ready?” Stevie asked.

Vic nodded.

Stevie cracked the engine and they were off.

 

ABOUT CLARE

 

Clare Lydon lives in London with her wife and precisely no pets (what a terrible lesbian she truly is). She’s from a huge Irish family who like to sing at any given opportunity, and she bakes a mean banana cake. Even her mum says so, and
she
knows
cake
.

Clare’s absolute favourite things in life are (in no particular order): bourbon, Curly Wurlys, stationery shops, sales in stationery shops, music, shoes, beer, signage, roast chicken, Christmas films, road trips, coffee, bananas, slow Loris videos on YouTube, red wine, karaoke, bus countdown apps (life-changing), tea, line-dried laundry, mustard mayo, musicals, lists and those Salted Caramel Puddles from Hotel Chocolat. Try them. You’ll never look back.

 

CONNECT WITH CLARE!

 

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