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And then they lay apart, Sadie on her side facing Ada who stared at the high, sculpted ceiling, the bare bulb hanging from a wire that would swing threateningly if this were a horror movie but was now obedient and still. Ada wondered if that made this a romance instead of a horror movie or maybe it was a horror movie and she was the murderer. After all, she’d covered them both in blood. But it was a peculiar sort of feminism that meant that a woman who looked like her would never be the killer. She wasn’t an icy Gillian Flynn blonde or a dark-eyed femme fatale. Women who kill weren’t round-cheeked and hard around the calves but soft at the biceps. They didn’t freckle as easily as they smiled.

Ada thought of her face as one that no one could hold in their head for long. Sometimes she caught herself in a bus window and saw herself drained of expression and she was anonymous. She knew that guardedness and reserve are attractive qualities in a woman, she was attracted to them herself, but other women’s physical features contained more value on their own than hers. Ada let every thought she had play across her face and that was both her instinct and also by design. If she couldn’t draw people to her using an air of mystery she’d do it by being so open they thought she must be lying.

Ada rolled towards Sadie who turned quickly onto her back so they weren’t facing each other. This annoyed Ada and so she said, ‘That’s annoying, why are you always turning away from me?’ and Sadie said, ‘Sorry, sorry, I’m just really high,’ and she did sound sorry but she didn’t sound that high. Ada lay her palm flat on Sadie’s ribs and felt a whole world moving underneath and said, ‘You don’t seem high. You’re so calm. You seem exactly the same as you did at the party,’ and she knew there was doubt coating her words and she hoped that Sadie would turn to her and deny it, say everything had changed, she’d never been so dragged out by a woman, she couldn’t look at her because she was afraid of what she’d feel! But instead, Sadie sighed and closed her eyes and said, ‘Sorry I’m not manic enough or whatever.’ Ada felt like she was being separated from her friends in class for talking too much.

Ada said, ‘You did, like, one line though,’ and even as she said it she wanted to leave it alone. Sadie laughed and started rubbing her feet together and said, ‘I don’t do coke much, you know how expensive it is back home.’ Ada reached out and rubbed her hand over the side of Sadie’s fuzzy, growing-out undercut and said, ‘Well yeah, but that’s the thing about coke, you don’t buy it, it’s just always around. Hey, did you hear that Bernie’s girlfriend is pregnant? He asked me if I think he’ll be a good dad.’

Sadie shifted her head slightly, enough for Ada to know to withdraw, and said, ‘Men don’t offer me coke, Ada. So unless they offer it to a woman who offers it to me…’

Ada laughed. ‘Wow, I never knew femmeness was so key to drug muling, do gender studies professors know about this?’ But Sadie was quiet so she couldn’t tell if she found it funny. Ada felt tired of performing for her but that didn’t mean she was ready to stop. She considered telling her that, actually, she did think Bernie might be a good dad, that she’d told him he should call the baby Ada and he’d smiled affectionately and kissed her head. But she didn’t think Sadie liked Bernie much.

Sadie got up to use the bathroom, getting fully dressed to do so, making Ada anxious she wouldn’t come back. But she did and as she undressed again – grateful, Ada felt so grateful – she looked at the little bowl on Ada’s desk.

‘Blackberries?’ she asked and Ada sat up in bed.

‘They call them brambles here and you can forage them, like just take them from the bushes. I got these near Arthur’s Seat, the big … rock thing.’

Sadie said, ‘Yes, I’m aware of the big rock thing, I’ve done the dawn climb a few times,’ and Ada said, ‘You went UP it? OK, Tank Girl. Well, I brought them back to ripen so I could make a crumble but I guess I’m out of time.’ Sadie picked up a little handful and brought them to bed, held out her palm and Ada ate some, directly off it, and her throat tingled as they slipped down. Sadie dropped the rest into her own mouth, swallowed and said, ‘Yeah, they’re not ripe at all.’ And she lay down and closed her eyes.

They were silent again, for longer this time, long enough for the light through the window to warm up and one of Ada’s flatmates to turn on the shower in the next room. Sadie slept and Ada drifted but she didn’t want to lose time so she kept pressing her palms over her eyes to see the fireworks, or that might have been a dream. Another flatmate turned the coffee maker on and the noise was enough to pull Sadie a little way back to her so Ada took her chance and climbed up onto her knees. She leaned over and put her face as close as she could to Sadie’s until Sadie said, ‘What?’ and Ada said, ‘If you’re way older than you look, you have to tell me.’

Sadie opened her eyes and she was dead on with Ada but blurred at the edges.

‘Why,’ asked Sadie, ‘would I be older than I look?’

Ada started to sing, into Sadie’s face, louder than she needed, ‘Oh scrub your floors, do your chores, dear old Sadie,’ and Sadie pushed her away. Ada was off balance and fell onto her back, the mattress creaking beneath her and Sadie sat up and shook it off.

‘I should never hook up with other Australians.’

Ada laughed and said, ‘So either your parents are massive Johnny Farnham fans or you were born before that song came out so you’re like sixty. Nice tits for an old cleaning lady, I have to say.’

Sadie glanced over at Ada and said flatly, ‘There’s still blood on your throat,’ and Ada started to sing again.

‘Sadie, the cleaning lady, will clean the blood off me … uh … Sadie,’ and Sadie climbed on top of her and clamped her hand over her mouth. She was still looking slightly over Ada’s head, smiling at whatever phantom floated there, and without lowering her eyes to Ada’s she said, ‘I think I’m sobered up now.’

Ada lay perfectly still because she knew if she moved it would be obvious how desperate she was for this morning to continue. Once Sadie was out in the world she’d be gone, this would be gone; this room wouldn’t be hers by 4 p.m. and nothing that had happened here made her believe that there’d be another room for them. Their Paris. Had she said that out loud?

Sadie slowly removed her hand from Ada’s mouth and said, ‘I think I know what your problem is,’ and Ada said, ‘Is it that I know the words to a John Farnham song? Sorry for being a patriot, Sadie—’ and Sadie finally lowered her eyes and said, ‘No, your problem is that I was too jittery last night to fuck you. So I think I’ll do that now,’ and Ada was nervous, which was new, or old, a memory of what she used to feel like before sex and she started to sing again but she couldn’t get the words out because Sadie opened her up and their morning held on.

TWO

30/08/2017

Stuart Parkes

10:23

Hey, sorry I know it’s weird to message someone I don’t know on Facebook but I saw you at the gig last night and your song really blew me away! I’ve been going to stand-up and cabaret shows every night all month and it was all really samey but you were so good and you said you don’t even usually sing. That might have been a lie now I think about it. Anyway I hope you had a good festival, I’ll definitely come see you perform again if I can. I wish I’d seen the play you did.

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