Page 17

There. She’d said it. Geeta told someone that she was, well, queer, she supposed.

Her heart leaped.

Telling Nicola Albright wasn’t the most obvious choice and, walking up the undulating lawn, she didn’t dare glance back for her reaction. She hoped she was unfazed by it. Nicola’s attitude had changed towards Charlotte and Millie – supportive in action if not words – and the respect for Kate and Olivia showed hope, didn't it. In fact, Nicola always supported Olivia.

Geeta trembled. Must be nerves. They tickled down to her fingers and she clenched her hands over and over.

“Goodness,” she breathed.

She’d been grounded in her role for decades, adapting, learning, refining of course, but this felt a significant change. Not the upheaval of divorce, and the rawness left by ripping away Sumit. But diffuse elation at exploring beyond her own skin. Open. Vulnerable. Not finding her new shape yet. Exciting. Exhilarating. Terrifying.

She breathed out a laugh as she strode through the thickening green grass of the spring lawn. This felt freeing, like it released all her swirling potential that had been channelled in restricted directions for so long. This was the start of something.

She stepped into the kitchen and hurried down the hallway, the energy of her revelation making her high.

“Oh,” she said, when she saw two familiar shapes through the frosted glass of the front door.

Of all the people to visit. She blushed as she turned the handle.

“Charlotte! Millie!” She laughed out of nerves.

“Happy birthday!” they chorused.

Charlotte’s eyebrows shot up in apology. “We wanted to drop this round tomorrow, but we’ve got an appointment. Can we give it to you now?” She held out a wrapped parcel.

“Of course! Thank you.” She took the gift, tempted to say they shouldn’t have, but flattered that they had. “This is lovely of you.”

She ran her hands through her hair, flustered.

“You must come in!” she beckoned, realising she hesitated.

“Is that OK?” Charlotte asked, shoulders sloping and making herself smaller.

“Of course. I know I invited everyone to drop by tomorrow, but I’m in today. Actually, your mother's here right now.”

Did someone press pause on the pair?

She peered up to see two confused faces: tall Charlotte with waves of long hair tumbling around her shoulders, and all expression tumbling from her face; and shorter Millie, hands on hour-glass hips, blonde curls bouncing from a whiplash-inducing turn of the head, and an excuse-me-what-the-fuck reaction on her face. Millie even swore with her eyes. Geeta knew her mind enough to read that.

“What?” Charlotte said. “Mum? Do you mean...? Like, my mother?”

Millie wrinkled her nose and quirked her top lip. “Be weird if it was my mum, since they’ve never met, and Mum lives in Ireland now. Bit random.”

“I know, but... My mum?”

As if this was more unlikely.

“Yes,” Geeta said. “It would have surprised me not long ago.”

Yet, here they were, and more than one thing surprised her.

“Come on through, you two. Nicola’s sitting by the river.”

“Right,” Charlotte said, confusion rippling across her forehead. “I’ll tell her we’re here.”

Charlotte dipped her head inside and Millie followed, while Geeta closed the door. She assumed they both walked through, but when she turned round the short blond stood very present. Millie’s eyebrows shot up.

“Hanging out with Nicola Albright, hey?”

“Yes!” Geeta said with the same surprise. “She’s...”

She wanted to say, ‘not that bad’. But Nicola was also strangely very good. She needed to be diplomatic about Nicola with these two, though. Yes, they all thought Nicola an insensitive pain in the arse, but Geeta couldn’t say that out loud.

“She’s...”

Millie watched with tongue poking from amused lips.

“She’s...” How to sum up Nicola Albright right now. “...living virtually next door so we’re...” What on earth were they doing? “Actually, kind of friends these days.”

Millie nodded soberly, and many thoughts clearly whizzed round her head. “Right.”

“Right,” Geeta agreed.

Ah, that sparkle in Millie Banks’ eyes? She was capable of seeing far too much, and Geeta looped her arm through Millie’s to distract her.

“Come on. Would you like a cuppa?”

“Of course,” Millie grinned. “Do you have cake too?”

Geeta tugged Millie closer. “I do.”

Because being a mum for so long, loving cooking and wanting to stay home for her birthday meant she’d baked herself a cake.

“I told Charlotte we should bring one,” Millie said, as they walked arm in arm, “but she insisted you’d make a nicer one. Then you’d have to be polite about the crappy cake we bought. My words, not Charlotte’s.”

“That is...” Perceptive of Charlotte and typically blunt of Millie. “I'd never turn away cake.”

Millie beamed a huge smile.

The short woman always made Geeta want to clap her hands together and laugh. The swagger. The chutzpah. And underneath a quiet, deep adoration of Charlotte. Yes, Geeta saw it. Glimpses here and there, that Charlotte must be treated to more often, because people were so different with others, and through different eyes.

And Charlotte today. Goodness, she looked well. Since she’d got together with Millie, she’d been deliriously happy, but there was something else about her. Not less happy. But her face had changed. Reminded Geeta of herself when she was...

“Right, what can I do to help?” Millie said, spinning around to Geeta in the kitchen. “Because you shouldn’t be doing all this on your birthday.”

And they made a pot of tea, Millie walking on ahead with a tray of mugs, and Geeta following behind with cake.

This was turning out to be quite a birthday. Fifty-six and she was all over the place, not knowing what form she’d take yet. Life changing.

To think that Millie and Charlotte had done this already. Look at Millie. Not even coming out, just leaping with complete faith into this blossoming relationship with Charlotte. Friends who’d adored each other, now partners who gazed at each other as if amazed to find someone so wonderful by their side. They brought so much joy, it filled Geeta’s heart and made her smile brim with tears, and the world felt a better place with them in it.

Olivia, Kate, Charlotte, Millie. They all made that leap beyond the accepted narrative, going on an adventure and making their own stories. And, of course, they’d find themselves over and over in different ways, their story continuing ever onwards. But Geeta suddenly felt young doing this. Exciting.

***

Nicola's head burned. Thoughts in paralysis. Body on fire. Heart thumping. World crashing down.

Because having a crush on someone was one thing. Thinking them beautiful. Having your chest beat low and strong when near. Skin prickling in exquisite goose bumps and seeing hearts and rainbows.

Then there was that. Wanting to kiss Geeta so strongly, Nicola feared she already leant in and drowned.

This full, blatant sexual attraction, ignited by possibility and Geeta’s curiosity, struck so powerfully Nicola distrusted her body – what it could do, how it might feel, the depth to which it unravelled with Geeta simply sitting there talking about kissing women.

The attraction had soared potent and dangerous when Geeta threw open the door from impossible into maybe. And all those admiring looks and glowing feelings that Nicola had sent out into an empty universe, suddenly bounced back at her with a question. Could Geeta find her attractive too? The possibility was tiny, but infinitely larger than nothing, and that sliver of hope apparently had her bursting.

What the hell was happening to her?

And now her daughter, Charlotte, and partner Millie were here. This couldn't be worse timing.

She stood and smoothed down her dress.

“Darling. Hi.”

She refrained from giving Charlotte a perfunctory kiss, the one she usually dabbed on her cheek so quickly she wouldn’t have to catch Charlotte’s recoil.

Charlotte loped towards her in a walk of her own. Nothing like Nicola’s. The number of times she’d tried to improve it, because the way you entered a room set the tone and your status. But that was the least of her worries today.

“Hi, Mum,” Charlotte said, almost as a question.

“Darling, how’s your weekend going?” Nicola managed at last.

“Erm...” Charlotte’s gaze quizzed her. “We bought a present for Geeta.”

“That’s nice darling. But what about the question I asked?”

That was mean of her. But, for the love of god, why wouldn't her daughter stay on topic in conversation. Damn it. She was flustered. And she didn't want Charlotte asking questions about why she visited Geeta.

Charlotte frowned as if it hurt, and Nicola immediately wanted to take it back.

“I’ll get the cushions for the other sofa,” Charlotte mumbled, and she loped to the sofa alongside, the hurt shadowing her.

Charlotte threw back the weatherproof cover and pulled out cushions hidden beneath, so familiar with the setup, it was like Geeta’s was the family home, not Nicola’s new cottage, which Charlotte still hadn’t visited. That hit too.

And now here came Millie, the last person she needed, followed by Geeta, the cause of her world imploding.

“Whatcha, Nicola,” Millie called out, swaying down the lawn and brandishing a tray.

“Good to see you, Millie,” Nicola replied, although it lacked her usual ocean of confidence.

Geeta called from further up, all smiles, curving beauty and generosity. “Make yourselves comfortable, everyone.”

And Millie plonked herself next to Charlotte, both distant from Nicola.

Was she being paranoid? She shook her head. She was never like this.

“You OK?” Geeta said, glancing up as she poured tea.

“Yes,” Nicola snapped. “Of course,” she added, trying to regain composure.

“Would you like to sit and have tea?”

“No, thank you.” She waved away concern. “I want to stretch my legs.”

She placed her hands on the small of her back and strolled to the water’s edge.

That reaction had come from nowhere. She’d experienced nothing as powerful before. Geeta could have said one word, commanded her with a single touch, and she would have been gone. No-one had ever sparked that level of attraction.

She paced along the river’s edge, back and forth, between the shrub boundaries of the garden, the laughter from the other three the backdrop to her spiral.

“While we’re here and Mum...” she heard Charlotte say. “Mum’s also here...” It filtered through slowly.

She turned round to find Geeta sitting up, energised. What was going on?

“There’s something we’d like to tell you.” Charlotte blushed, always, never hiding her thoughts or feelings – disastrous as a lawyer.

Geeta smiled in response and covered her mouth with praying hands. What did she know?

“Well...It’s just...” Charlotte looked to Millie and held her hand.

Oh, for goodness’ sake, spit it out. Distraction first, then lost for words, always with Charlotte.

“Millie and I have been talking and we’d like to grow our family.” Charlotte’s smile bloomed even larger. “We want to have a baby.”

“Wonderful. How exciting!” Geeta clapped her hands.

All three dissolved into smiles, arms reaching out, congratulations ringing in the air, cheeks blushing. Then slowly the excitement waned, and the laughter quietened.

They all looked at her, expectantly.

Were they serious? Charlotte as a mother? When she’d finally got her act together at work. And maybe, god maybe, she'd make partner one day. Still stumbling through life with Millie in their tiny home. She, of all people, was thinking of having children now ? Her clueless girl had no idea how hard that would hit.

“Are you out of your mind?” Nicola said.

They stared at her. Charlotte’s face fell, Geeta slowly dropped her hands into her lap, and a frown pinched hard on Millie’s forehead.

“Are you seriously planning on having children?”

“Well...” Charlotte whispered. “Yes, we are.”

It was very quiet.

“I mean.” Nicola wanted to backtrack a pace. “Of course it’s a natural thing to want, but...”

How could she say this. That her daughter was not always competent. And this relationship with Millie was new. And having a baby would sink her. Look how much it took out of Nicola, and she was on top of life in a way Charlotte never was. Same with Geeta. Motherhood had its price. She knew that now.

“It's a huge responsibility, Charlotte.”

And yes, she heard her tone, talking to her daughter as if six years old and she’d asked for an inappropriate pet.

“Have you thought it through?”

Because even though Charlotte landed on her feet with her job and home, Nicola saw signs of the crash that often followed. The chaos in the aftermath of exams at sixteen and eighteen. The push to qualify, then difficulty starting her career. Charlotte floundered so often, leaving everything to a last-minute panic. Then she became frustrated with herself, because she was conscientious and a perfectionist at heart, and would stay up late and exhaust herself to put it right. And for the umpteenth time, Nicola would despair and ask Charlotte why on earth she didn’t start earlier.

She wished, Nicola really did, that Millie would help like she had at university. The two had worked side by side for three years. But the curvy blond filled Charlotte’s head with the candy floss of romance, and Nicola dreaded another, inevitable backslide.

Damn it. Why did they have to bring this up now, with Nicola stumbling. She’d never been on a back foot like this, not even in the worst court cases. She started again.

“You're both establishing your careers and your relationship is new. You’re not ready for everything a child brings.”

A dark cloud passed over the three of them. Geeta looked away, with thunder in her face. Millie crossed her arms so hard she might cut herself in two. And Charlotte... That was sobering. It pulled Nicola from her spiral, because she’d made Charlotte look like that before.

Nicola paused with cold regret sinking through her body.

Then it sank another mile, when Charlotte said:

“Mum. We’re not just planning. I’m already pregnant.”

The thick silence felt like the only thing holding Nicola up. She lifted her chin, opened her mouth, but nothing came out.

Completely. Utterly. Floored.

“I...erm...” Charlotte stuttered, then her shoulders slumped and face collapsed, as if she crumbled inside. Shrinking, hurting and breaking.

It was the same as when Charlotte's world fell apart at eight, her only friend at school moving away. She’d sat in the corner, still in her gingham uniform dress, unable to do anything since finding out.

The same heartbreak at the end of college, when she quietly explained she couldn’t be near Millie anymore without hurting, too much in love with her friend, and needing to find somewhere else to live.

And worst, the expression when Nicola came home from her most disastrous week at work.

The house had been in chaos, Daniel at the pub with a friend, and Charlotte’s application for university still not submitted. Nicola had let Daniel have it in the kitchen. Brought up every damned mistake he’d ever made. The times he forgot the bills she left to him. The homework he hadn’t reminded Charlotte to do. Between the pair of them, nothing was done on schedule. The birthdays missed. The jobs lost.

And if only Charlotte had spoken up at school, they could have submitted the damned application there. But no, she’d probably not listened, or failed to speak up anyway.

Daniel’s glare brimmed with every drop of resentment he’d stored up over two decades, and he shouted, “Maybe if you stopped bloody criticising Charlotte, she might have some confidence left to speak!”

And that tore her apart, because she saw it for what it was. He wanted her to stop nagging them both. But what the hell was she meant to do? Just put up with them knocking over a vase, or forgetting the one damned thing she’d asked them to do. At the same time, she heard loud and clear that she hurt her girl, and that cut like a knife.

She lashed out in defence.

“Do not blame me for Charlotte messing up. Because it's no wonder she’s such a shambles with you as a role model.” She’d slammed her hand on the kitchen counter. “I can only rely on you both to be one thing, and that’s unreliable .”

And the room had gone still. She hadn't realised Charlotte stood in the doorway. She’d meant every word about Daniel but she never wanted her daughter to hear that.

And Charlotte had worn that same expression as she did now, imploding with hurt.

Shit.

Shock smacked on Geeta’s face, and her eyes pleaded with Nicola, incredulous that she said nothing to make it better.

But Nicola still couldn’t move.

“I want to go home,” Charlotte croaked, and she reached for Millie's hand.

“Come here,” Geeta said, offering an arm. “I’ll wrap up some cake for you both.”

Charlotte opened her mouth but seemed too fatigued to form a sentence. It was a state that frustrated Nicola over the years. For goodness’ sake, just say what's wrong, use your words. And at the same time, she was devastated, again, that she made it worse.

The three turned up the lawn towards the house.

“I thought she’d be pleased,” she heard Charlotte finally say.

“Same,” Millie snapped. The venom was all about Nicola, not Charlotte. “She’s always bloody going on about Bryony and her children...”

She didn’t catch the rest. Devastated Charlotte, fuming Millie and incredulous Geeta disappeared into the house.

Oh god. What an absolute, wretched mess.

That moment with Geeta had torn her open, for all the world and herself to see. It left her flailing and raw and not knowing who she was anymore. Then interrupted by the worst people – of all the guilt-inducing people it could have been – she’d pivoted, so fucking badly, she landed flat on her face in front of two who mattered most.

Cool, calculating, incredible-under-pressure Nicola Albright KC, had built a career on delivering under extraordinary conditions. But she’d completely fucked up here.

She wandered up the lawn, head a maelstrom. When she stepped inside the kitchen, only Geeta remained.

Nicola breathed in, praying her next words came out steady, and she never needed divine help before.

“I think I should go too.”

Geeta glared agreement. Hands to hips, then arms tight across her chest, Geeta opened her mouth, then bit the words silent.

“I don’t know what to say,” Geeta finally managed. “It’s not my place to say anything, but...” She shook her head. “Where do I even start with that.”

Nicola nodded. She didn’t want to hear it either.

“I’ll see myself out,” she said.

It came out clearly, but guilt troubled her face. Geeta wouldn’t look at her though.

“Thank you for lunch,” Nicola said.

And she headed past Geeta, whose cheeks knotted with restrained fury that said they were nowhere near being friends.