Nano 2010
"At first I was afraid, I was petrified - kept thinking I could never live without you by my side..."
Gloria Gaynor was singing her heart out - the tiny portable speakers plugged into my laptop could barely handle the full force of her independent assertions. I could hardly believe it. Here I was, forty-three, going through a divorce, moving into a new flat on my own and embracing the most clichéd song imaginable as I sorted through box after box of newspaper-wrapped dishes and back-breakingly heavy cartons of books.
"But then I spent so many nights just thinkin' how you'd done me wrong, and I grew strong..."
The revelation of my husband's affair had come as a surprise to me, though I wasn't as heartbroken as a lot of my friends seemed to assume I was. It wasn't that I didn't resent the inconvenience of having to shift my entire life, or that I was altogether happy finding out things had ended between us after the discovery of lipstick on his collar (yet another cliché - I was rolling in them). But, if I was honest about it, I was mostly okay with separating and moving on. My new flat was shaping up nicely, my commute had been cut in half by the relocation, and maybe, just maybe, now I'd be able to find someone who really got me - ticked all my boxes, got all my jokes, was more than a one-trick pony in the bedroom. It might be a cliché, but I was already looking out for true love.
"And I... I will survive... I will survive."
It wasn't that there was anything wrong with Keith, per se - well, apart from the shagging my assistant (not even his own assistant - now that's above and beyond the call). We were almost intellectual equals, certainly, we worked in the same field, he was tall, dark and handsome, and we had a beautiful if presently teenaged (don't ask) son together.
But, well, he wasn't the love of my life. And the fact that I could think this objectively about it only weeks after it happened probably showed that. I knew better than to state this outright to any of our mutual friends or coworkers, but if he could move on, then so could I.
Not that it would be too hard to do so. I'm an intelligent, accomplished, attractive woman and I knew that men would be lining up to date me. Already were, in fact - I had a date that evening with a man I had met through an online dating service - DocStone59. Otherwise known as Dr Malcolm Stone, a self-described 'polymath and diphthong appreciator'. I was bracing myself for plenty of linguistics-based double entendre.
So thus far single life was treating me well. Still, it had only been a fortnight, so I was bracing myself for some harsh realities any minute now.
"So Noam was being his usual droll self, but this woman kept harrassing him - just kept on and on at him and eventually he turned to her and said, 'Well, I suppose that's just a feature we'll all have to live with.'"
"Oh, well... how very Chomsky-esque." I lifted my wine glass, draining a quarter of it in one long draw. Not that it was improving the quality of the conversation - or should I say monologue - but it was a very nice Chardonnay. "You seem to know just about everyone," I remarked then, dryly.
"Oh, you know, I get around," Malcolm said with a wave of his hand. "Besides, you're in the hip young world of biodiversity - you must meet all sorts of people."
Yes, though most of them are interested in accomplishing something, not just accruing interesting dinner party stories... "Mm, I guess so. At conferences and the like. Most of the time it's just stuck out in the middle of the jungle swatting mosquitoes and picking off leeches."
"How very exotic," Malcolm said with a significant waggle of his impressively thick, dark eyebrows. His eyebrows had definitely not looked that Cro Magnon in the pictures he had sent me.
"I suppose, if you consider malaria pills exotic." I was being sarcastic, but I really couldn't help it. There was definitely no connection here, and I tend to lose interest fast, especially in smarmy linguists with red wine stains on their teeth.
His grin faltered a little at this, and he fell silent, suddenly very absorbed in his meal. Safe to say I found his company much more pleasant from then on, but we didn't stay for dessert.
So that evening found me back at the flat alone - ah well. I was nowhere near desperate enough after only two weeks of singledom to invite Malcolm back to my place, and besides, it was a school night. Tomorrow I'd be meeting my new assistant and I supposed it was best to be relatively fresh and well-rested for that. Wouldn't want to make a bad impression, now, would I?
"Look, this really isn't about you, it's abou-"
"Oh, don't you dare use that line on me, Alex, I don't want to hear it!"
"But it really is..." I found myself whining. At this point my protestations were even annoying me but somehow there I was, following Gemma around the flat as she put this book, that scarf, this nik-nak into the cardboard box she'd perched on her hip.
"You don't think I know that?" she demanded, whirling around to face me. "Maybe if you me any attention you'd realize it, but you can't be bothered, can you? Well, good riddance. I'm glad we're through. I deserve better."
I opened my mouth, closed it again, reopened it. While I was standing there like a fish she was still moving, in the bedroom now, pulling her drawer out of my chest and emptying the whole thing into her box. "Yeah," I said eventually. You do. I'm sorry."
This didn't seem to placate her but then we were past that point now. "Sorry doesn't cut it, Alex. You need to take a look at yourself and the way you treat people." she kept up a running commentary while she packed, mostly of my faults, and then with a final "Don't call me!" stalked out of my flat, and my life, altogether.
I found my way back the lounge and flopped down on the couch with what I'm sure would be classified as an 'expansive' sigh. A lot of people might be bawling their eyes out after a row like that, or at least searching for a stiff drink, but not me. Despite the cluelessness that Gemma accused me of I had seen this coming for a while - the only thing that had kept us going for as long as it did was the fact that up until recently I had been buried in work for my PhD.
Now that was done, and my head was a little clearer - clear enough to realise just how... bored I was. It wasn't just that I had finished my PhD; thinking back I realized I had been bored by that as well, going through the motions well enough to graduate but without any enjoyment to it.
No, I was bored with everything - this life - girlfriend, the doctorate, this city... I just wanted to leave all of it. I knew friends who had given up their flats and backpacked around the world for months, but somehow I couldn't see myself in those shoes. Still, I direly needed a change.
So that's why I broke up with Gemma, and it's why I'd given notice on my flat. And it's why I'd taken a job as a research assistant and junior professor at [some] university, half the country away. Not because I was that interested in furthering my career - though it was a prime position, and frankly I was astounded that I was considered, let alone hired - but because it was a change. Which was also why I was late on my first day, because I was trying to find something to wear that wasn't my usual jeans and layered tee look.
I had at least scoped the department out a couple of days previously so I knew where I was going when I raced headlong down the corridor toward my new boss's office. I passed several surprised-looking men and women to whom I'm sure I would be introducing myself later, but right now my priority was getting to Dr Kathryn Sinclair's office as soon as possible.
She looked up as I entered a little breathlessly, tapping her pen against the notebook on her desk. "Ah, Ms. Webb. I was wondering when you were going to show up."
"I am so, so sorry," I found myself wheezing. "I was... well, there were the buses, and I just moved here, and-"
"Enough explanations," she said, waving a hand dismissively. "Sit down, have a breather."
I did so, collapsing into one of the chairs in front of her desk, bag hitting the floor beside me with a heavy thunk. Seated, I had my first real look at Dr Sinclair. She was nothing like I expected. For one, I thought she would've had to be at least ten years older, what with her credentials and the number of papers she had written. Secondly, I hadn't thought she would be attractive, but she had a face and figure that would have looked good on the inside back cover of any of her books - even, pleasing features with shapely lips that seemed unshrunken by age and pink without makeup, high cheekbones and sparkling blue eyes that only looked kinder and more striking for the fine lines that framed them at the outside corners, her dark hair in a short, layered bob that showed off her single tasteful grey streak to its best advantage. She had a natural, healthy looking tan that certainly hadn't come from lying on a beach or under a sunbed and from what I could see of her figure she looked scarily fit - her shoulders and arms looking toned and shapely even beneath the navy cashmere sweater she was currently wearing, sleeves rolled up matter-of-factly to the elbows. In short, she wasn't my type personally but plenty of lesbians I knew would be orgasming on the spot right about now.
"So," she was saying as I had been checking her out (subtly, of course - I'm not about to openly ogle my new boss), "there's quite a backlog of work piled up for you. Someone will be along soon to show you around and introduce you to folk, but the sooner you can get started, the better. I'm not strict on scheduling - I don't care when you come in or when you leave as long as you get your work done. If you do, great. If you don't, then we'll have to talk about things."
"Right," I said, nodding effusively (I pitched for sincere and overshot).
Sinclair raised an eyebrow at my enthusiasm, but continued. "I presume you're familiar with [a list of software/stuff]?" This was kind of a strange question, since that sort of thing was detailed pretty extensively on my CV, but I nodded.
"Sure - I haven't used [one of them] since my Masters but I'm familiar with the rest, and I'll be up to scratch in no time."
"Good. I'm afraid I have to head off to a departmental meeting in a minute, but before I go do you have any questions for me?" She seemed to really look a me for the first time, sizing me up, and I knew that this could be a make-or-break moment for me.
Fervently hoping that I didn't look as bewildered as I felt, I wracked my brain for something - anything to ask that wasn't completely inane. "Er..." Come on, she's brilliant, well respected, busy... what do you ask her? "Where will I find your up-to-date research and course syllabus for this year?" I asked finally.
"On the shared drive - have you been given a login yet?" When I shook my head she frowned and leaned forward to make a note on a pad of paper. "I'll get Matthew to get you one today. They say it takes weeks, but honestly. They're a bunch of lazy bastards sometimes."
I chuckled, but bit back any corroborating evidence of my own - I probably wasn't 'in' enough to start criticising my workplace just yet.
She began to gather up her things, but then stopped, as if she had just remembered something. "Oh, also - very soon I'll be selecting a group of undergraduate students to join the lab as interns for a semester. You'll be in charge of overseeing them - I have a list of potential projects we could put them on, but I'd like you to have a look to help narrow it down. Why don't you take a few days and then get back to me with your feedback?"
"...Absolutely," I said, blinking in my generall shellshock. This was sounding awfully like a proper job in academia. How did this happen to me? "I'll get right on it."
"I'm glad to hear it. Sarah will be by shortly to show you around - if you have any other questions just ask her." This time Sinclair did stand, holding her hand out expectantly toward me. "Welcome to the lab, Doctor Webb."
Her handshake was cool and firm. Why was I not surprised. I hoped that my smile didn't look too relieved. "Glad to be here."
Sinclair departed not long after, and I waited idly in her office for Sarah (whoever that was) to arrive. Looking around, I couldn't help but notice the wide variety of exotic decorations and trinkets scattered about - the richly textured woven tapestry on the wall, small carved figuines in wood and stone parading around the desk. Apparently she enjoyed the cultural aspects of her travels as much as the ecological discoveries. There was little else on the wall as most of it was taken up by fitted shelving, all the way to the ceiling (I spotted a small stool in the corner that was presumably for access to the higher shelves). They were packed with textbooks, many of which I was at least familiar with and were largely by contemporaries of Sinclair herself - this was perhaps not surprising, Biodiversity being a comparatively recent field.
I was so caught up in reading the titles that I almsot didn't hear the knock on the door behind me. Turning, I was greeted by a smiling middle-aged woman with thick-rimmed cat's-eye glasses. "Doctor Webb?" she ventured.
"Hello! Sarah? Hi," I said, babbling slightly as I stumbled to my feet and reached out a hand to shake hers.
"It's lovely to meet you," she said, returning the handshake with a gentle squeeze. "I'm the office adminstrator for Doctor Sinclair's team. I'll do what I can to help you settle in."
"Lead the way."
Sarah was, like most office administrators I had met, incredibly chatty. She kept up a running commentary throughout the entire tour of the offices, telling me not only who each one belonged to but how long they had been there and any particular quirks that occurred to her to share. For instance, I found that Professor Downs always came in late on Fridays because his rugby league met on Thursdays, and Dr Freeman had to have a vanilla-scented candle burning at all times because she couldn't abide the smell of new carpeting, which they had just put in last month.
To my mild surprise I had an office to myself - well, more of a boxroom, really, but it had a comfortable office chair and a reasonably new PC with a double monitor, which was all I really required.
Sarah hovered in the doorway, obviously keen to suss out the newcomer. "So... is there anything else I can help you with? Tea? Coffee?"
"Oh, I'm fine, thanks," I said. "I mean, maybe later, but I'll come through, scope out the staff room," I added with a grin.
"Of course, of course," she said, bobbing her head. "Everybody's really friendly here, they're all looking forward to meeting you, I'm sure."
"I'm sure."
"I mean, it must be hard from you, having moved to a new city and all - do you have friends here? Family?"
"Um... some family," I said vaguely. Although not exactly the sort of family you mean...
"Well, that's good!" she said brightly. "And I'm sure you'll have lots of friends soon enough."
I nodded. "I'm looking forward to meeting new people. This is a great city."
I hate meeting new people. No, okay, that's not true - I love meeting new people, normally. But this city is terrible. It's full of smug, self-righteous bastards with too much money and far too high an opinion of themselves. I was in the middle of another online date and I could already tell it wasn't going to end well.
"So anyway, tell me more about your work - hug any polar bears recently? Just kidding!" My date grinned, showing off his even but slightly discoloured teeth.
"That's not really what I do," I said with a grim smile, shaking my head. "I work on a much smaller scale - microscopic, really."
"So you have pretty good eyesight then - I like that in a woman."
I nearly sighed. "Uh huh. And what else do you like in a woman?"
'Mike' smirked a little. "Oh, all sorts of things. I'm a man of catholic tastes."
And a terrible sense of humor. "Well then, I'm sure you'll have no trouble finding the right woman one day."
Mike was cheesy, but he wasn't stupid. His smile faded a little. "Let me down gently, why don't you?" he murmured.
I felt a sudden pang of guilt; I had been on edge all day but it wasn't fair to take it out on my date. "Sorry," I sighed, shaking my head. "That was... I shouldn't have said that. I've... just had a long day."
He shrugged. "No, that's fair enough. I appreciate your honesty." He looked thoroughly chastened now and that just made me feel worse.
"Well, as long as we're embracing honesty, I do think you're nice," I told him, hoping to make up for the complete rejection I had just offered. "How long have you been doing this internet dating thing?"
He seemed to relax a little, almost moreso than before - perhaps now that the pressure was off. "Too long," he said, making a face. "Not without some success, mind you - I saw the last woman I dated for four months before it went south. But..." he shrugged. "Who has the time to do things the old fashioned way?"
"I know exactly what you mean. It's hard enough finding time to go to dinner - trawling the bars for potential partners is just not in the cards."
"How long have you been doing this, then?"
I grimaced. "About... three weeks?"
He grinned. "And you're bored with it already?"
"Not bored, no. Just..." Impatient. "It's been a long time since I've done this. Been 'on the market'. I forgot what it's like."
He raised his eyebrows. "Divorced?" he guessed, apparently less subtle now that he knew he was onto a loser. Amusingly he was much more attractive now.
"Bingo."
"Snap. Mind you, a few years ago now for me. Took me a lot longer than you to get back on the horse, I can tell you."
"Well, I guess I'm just a cold-hearted bitch," I joked, lifting my wineglass. "But hey, if he's moved on, why can't I?"
"Ah, I see. His assistant?"
"Mine."
"Ooh, that's low."
"Lower than a pseudocoelomate," I agreed.
"So you lost a husband and an assistant. That's pretty harsh. I'm impressed," Mike said, raising his glass to me.
I smirked, returning the toast. "Well, I've already replaced the assistant - well, I didn't, but it's been taken care of."
"Maybe you could delegate replacing the husband as well."
This got a genuine laugh out of me, and I had to give it to him - Mike wasn't all that bad. "An excellent idea. I knew I was going about this all wrong."
"You could get your new assistant to do it," Mike suggested. "You know, for the irony value."
"She's a bit young - I'd be afraid to see what she'd pick out for me."
"Can't do worse than the Guardian personals, can she?" Mike teased.
I took another drink, then shot him an arch look over the remnants of my meal. "That remains to be seen."
For the first time in my life I could actually afford a flat to myself. Sure, it was a small-roomed one-bedroom, but it was in an old tenement with lovely high ceilings and 'per feats', I had a little box-room off the lounge to use as a study (I hate working where I eat or sleep or relax), and there was a real live working coal fire.
I hadn't brought a lot of stuff with me, so it didn't take me long to unpack and get mostly settled in. There were a few things I was going to have to buy - some shelves for one, as my books were currently stacked along the wall of the lounge, but for the most part I don't need that much in the way of physical trappings to be happy. It's not that I don't like stuff. I just never get that attached to it.
My first day had been... Fine, really. I had spent most of if setting up my computer and doing a few dry runs on the software just to re-familiarize myself with it, and later I had glanced over Dr Sinclair's project outlines for the new interns. I hadn't seen my boss again - she seemed to be a very busy woman - but I had met a few of the other lab denizens on a tea break that afternoon.
I was mildly surprised to find that I was probably the youngest person there - at [her phd uni] the Environmental Sciences department had been quite young - lots of postgrads and professors not long out of their own doctorates, as I assumed was pretty usual for the field. It seemed, though, that that was because the older, more respected people in the field graduated en masse to places like [current place].
I knew there would soon be undergrads underfoot, but the thought didn't really hearten me - I was supposed to be in charge of them, not make friends. Still, I couldn't deny that it was an amazing place to be working... Even if I got the feeling that there was something funny about the circumstances under which I had been hired.
I had heard of Kathryn Sinclair long before I ever saw that job opening. Hell, I'd been assigned her textbooks and essays since my undergrad degree. It seemed to me as though she was the sort of person who would pick her assistants - her front-line staff - pretty carefully. But in that short discussion as I arrived it for all the world seemed as though she hadn't even read my CV.
Not that I was going to question it - I needed this job - but it did make me feel a little funny to think that my hiring hadn't made much of an impression on her. It made me resolved to find some other way to impress her, if only to help my career.
This was another big change for me - thinking about my 'career' as though it actually existed, was a living breathing entity that actually required my input. Working on my PhD had basically made time stand still in that respect. Now the clock had started again and I knew if I was going to go anywhere I needed to shake things up, work up some enthusiasm for... Well, anything.
The young woman before me shifted slightly nervously in her seat. I gave her a perfunctory smile.
"So. Doctor Webb. Settling in alright?"
She nodded, "Oh, absolutely - I have everything set up in my office, and I think I've managed to pull together all the syllabus materials I need."
"Excellent." I knew it would take her - or anybody - longer than a few days to settle in, but I wanted her to be as self-sufficient as possible, so this was good. "And have you had a chance to look at those project ideas yet?"
"Um... yes," she said, suddenly looking around herself as though she had meant to bring some physical evidence of this. "I'll email you my notes?" she suggested eventually. "Or, I mean, I don't want to bother you but if you wanted to meet and discuss them..."
"Email them, and I'll look them over and we can meet on... Friday afternoon," I said, glancing at my diary.
"Oh. Right, great," Webb replied, looking slightly more worried now. "Thanks."
I wondered idly why she seemed quite so nervous around me. According to Sarah she seemed quite friendly and self-assured - and I trusted Sarah's judgement probably more than I did my own (she'd never liked Keith, for a start off - or my old assistant). So this was obviously about me.
I wasn't really used to people feeling intimidated by me - sure I was accomplished, but being an attractive, relatively young woman usually meant that I had to work harder than usual to be taken seriously. And yet here she was. Squirming.
Eventually I decided that there wasn't much point in having an assistant who was scared of me and that I ought to at least try and set her at ease. The problem was, I didn't know anything about her. "So. Sarah says you're a coffee drinker. Have you tried the cafe upstairs yet?"
"Um. No, not yet," she managed, looking more bemused than nervous now.
"Well. It's certainly better than the instant stuff in the breakroom. In case you ever despair."
"I'll have to make a point of doing that. Thanks." Webb seemed to relax slightly now, though she looked a little on the confused side.
That wasn't really my problem, though. "You're welcome. I don't drink coffee myself but I understand how important it is for some people." Keith had been one of those near-unintelligible-until-coffee morning types. When I had found out about the affair I may have put soap powder in his state-of-the-art espresso machine.
"More of a... tea drinker?" she hazarded now, apparently at least trying to make small talk now.
"Mm, no, not really. I don't really go in for hot drinks."
"I hear they make iced tea..." Webb observed, and I was pleased to see her smile a little.
I favored her with a chuckle, if only to encourage this sort of behavior more, and nodded. "That they do. Maybe I should tell Sarah to start stocking that in the staff room as well."
"I don't think they allow drinks in the staffroom that don't involve boiling water at some point along the way."
"Shame. I suppose I'll just have to keep smuggling my own beverages in," I said, nodding to the Nalgene bottle half-full of water on the corner of my desk.
"Ah hah." Webb - what was her first name again? Alexandria? She smiled again at this, and offered. "I had a professor once who never went anywhere without a bottle of water. Turned out he was drinking vodka tonics."
"Don't think I haven't thought of it - especially during Macromolecular Structure and Function," I told her, rolling my eyes.
My new assistant narrowed her eyes in mock suspicion. "Isn't that one of the courses you're having me run seminars for?"
"As a matter of fact, it is. And I'll be checking your water bottles from now on, so be careful."
This time I got a genuine chuckle, and it made me feel slightly more benevolently inclined towards her. Which is of course why I immediately changed the topic. "So, Friday afternoon. Three pm?"
"Um, oh! Yes. I'll write it down."
"Good. And if you need anything before then, talk to Sarah. She'll get you sorted out."
I left Sinclair's office feeling like a complete idiot. Sure, there had been some mildly witty banter, but mostly, I had made a fool of myself.
I returned to my office and hunkered down in front of my computer, staring at the default wallpaper without really seeing it. Consequently it took several pings before I noticed that someone was IMing me.
This gave me a start. I didn't usually chat on worktime, but Sinclair had said she didn't mind when I came in...
I clicked to Lynn1987's profile to find that she was, ironically enough, a 23 year old lesbian named Lynn. She also lived in [city Alex just moved to], liked indie music and Italian food and worked as a receptionist in order to fund her 'real' career - photography. She was also, according to her profile picture, very cute.
I pursed my lips, narrowing my eyes at the screen.
Well, this girl got to the point at least. Guessing I should probably show my hand, I thought for a moment before typing:
I smirked.
The rest of the day I spent mainly hermiting in my lab, alternately going over notes for the upcoming tutorials, typing up feedback for Dr Sinclair, and browsing gaydargeeks for any other potential 'tour guides' in the area. It seemed that there were plenty of pretty normal girls around, although quite a few were already taken - that was okay, though, as I was as much on the look-out for friends as potential 'hook-ups' - and I certainly wasn't about to get back into a relationship right now.
Gemma and I had been together for almost two years - though I had been stuck in my PhD for both of them. We had met through mutual friends at a drinks night out and I had been struck by her vivaciousness and yeah, her looks, and I had 'chased' her for a few weeks before she agreed to go out with me.
She was my 'usual' type I suppose - arty, gorgeous, completely flaky, and at first I admit, I fell pretty hard. She was a great distraction from my work, and we were pretty compatible sexually. For a long time things were good, if a bit... samey. Then, eventually, they got too samey, but we were comfortable enough (and I was stressed enough) that I just... let it go, I guess. Until I finished my PhD.
And then I broke up with her, which meant that instead of being samey things were just non-existent. And I was dealing with that just fine, especially since I had so much else on my plate, but sometimes I did get nostalgic for things as they had first been - passionate, exciting, and not a little bit stormy at times.
As such, right about now I was, I'll admit, a little itchy, but I most certainly wasn't looking to jump back into a relationship.
"...so I'm not really looking to get into a 'Relationship' right now, you know? Life's too short to get tied down to just one person." My date shrugged, swirling the whisky in his glass. "You know?"
"Sure, I suppose..." Points for honesty, I guess, but a massive negative for attitude. Not to mention bullshit. "So this date is... just a formality?"
"Oh, no, not at all," came the reply, accompanied by a smooth smile that suddenly made my very handsome and increasingly annoying companion that much more slappable. "I think you're a very engaging and attractive woman, and I'd very much like to know you better."
"Without any commitment or strings."
"Well, I wouldn't put it quite like that..."
"More like fuck buddies," I snorted. "Seriously, how often does this work? Quite a bit, I'd imagine, given you seem to pitch yourself towards desperate divorcées who are probably flattered when you use that line on them."
His too-smooth brow furrowed a little now, "Now, wait a minute," he spluttered, shifting in his seat. "I wasn't implying that-"
"You were just in it for the sex? No, I'm sure you do want the whole package - scintillating dinner conversation, passionate lovemaking and a woman who has absolutely no designs on you or your precious time."
Needless to say, things degenerated a bit from there - there was more equivocation and denial, my patience ran out entirely, and I threw down some cash and left, furious with myself for even being taken in enough to give the guy a chance - particularly so because he really was quite handsome, and had been very charming over the phone, and I hated that I'd let myself be swayed by that when half an hour in his presence had been enough to lay completely bare how vapid and obnoxious he was.
The most annoying part was that I myself wasn't even looking for a 'Relationship', necessarily - I wasn't out there cruising for random sex, but nor was I trying to settle down with the first suitable guy I met. But I just hated the way that these men - this guy hadn't been the first - just assumed that because of my age or my relationship status or what-have-you that I was either in it to remarry as soon as possible or to get some small physical comfort to fill the aching, empty void left by the absence of a husband. Please.
It was times like this that my anger at Keith flared up. He hadn't been the love of my life, but we had been good together - settled, compatible, comfortable. We had gone to all the same conferences together, agreed on how to raise Jonas to give him the best possible opportunities in life, and we had both understood that after twenty years of marriage you couldn't expect the same level of passion that a new relationship might have. At least, I thought we had both accepted that.
As it turns out, of course, some part of Keith had never stopped looking. My friends had all maintained that this was his 'mid-life crisis' - his younger woman affair to make him feel virile and alive, like buying a new car or getting an ear pierced or joining a gym or whatever one does now. Living with him, though, watching what Keira had done to him (even before I knew what or who was doing it), I knew different. She hadn't just made him feel alive. She'd brought him back to life. Not that it excused what they did or how they did it, but I had at least acknowledged by now that it wasn't 'just' an affair - he'd actually fallen in love.
Right now, I wasn't sure whether that made me less or more angry.
In any case, it was clear that tonight's date wasn't going to do anything to revive my love life. I had had a few drinks, but instead of finding my way to another bar or back to my flat I instead hopped in a taxi back to the uni. I was getting dangerously close to workaholic mode but I needed to burn off my frustration somehow and the gym wasn't far from my office. I tended to keep some 'workout' clothes and a washkit at the office for times such as these, so I dropped by en route to pick it up. Expecting the place to be empty I was a little surprised to see a light on in one of the office windows as I approached the building.
I climbed the stairs in my heels, half-hoping I wouldn't run into anybody I knew so I wouldn't have to explain my aborted evening, and half-hoping there would be someone I could groan to about it. I wasn't particularly close to most people in the office, but Sarah and a few of the others were at least on friendly enough terms (and knew of my history with Keith) that they'd provide a sympathetic ear for a few minutes.
What I hadn't expected to find on reaching the office was that the light that I'd seen was actually the window of Dr Webb's room, her door ajar, with my new assistant working diligently away at her computer inside. I suppose I should have been impressed by her dedication - and I was, really, but I did find that I was steeling myself for yet another mildly uncomfortable encounter as I rapped at her door and stuck my head round with a cheery smile.
So in the absence of any social life just yet (although I had a coffee date with 'Lynn1987' in a couple of days) I was in the office at nine in the evening working on my notes for my meeting with Professor Sinclair the next day. Fortunately, I'd heard someone letting themself into the office, and so the knock didn't surprise me. The sight of my boss looking effortlessly glamorous in a black slashed-neck cocktail dress, make-up and heels did.
"Um, good... evening?"
"I've had better," she said with a wry smile, leaning one shoulder on the doorjamb. "And it looks like I could say the same for you."
I glanced around at my little office, with its near-bare bookshelves (I brought the complete contents of my little box of academic texts over that morning but I'm more of a library girl than a buyer, generally), the double monitor set-up taking up a sizeable portion of my desk, the quietly humming little space heater in the corner (whatever this room had been before it became an office apparently hadn't required its own heating. Funnily enough, I was actually quickly coming to quite like it. "Oh, I dunno," I said. "Quite cosy, here, really - about as comfortable as my flat, and at least I have the internet here."
"Hm. Well, fair enough," Sinclair said with a one-shouldered shrug. She looked around the room, a strange expression crossing her features before she looked back at me with another smile. "Just no parties after-hours, alright?"
"Hah, no, I think I can safely say that that won't be happening," I said, managing to smirk. Sinclair's smile widened a little and I felt a warmth begin to spread over the top of my ears. I cleared my throat. "You look... nice," I said.
"Thanks. Had a date," she explained. "Or at least the start of one. And... now I'm here."
"Oh." I wasn't sure what to make of that. Still, she'd brought it up. "Not your type, eh?"
"Supercilious arseholes generally aren't. Pardon my French."
"Ah..." I nodded knowingly. "Yeah, that'll put a dampener on your evening, I suppose."
"Tell me about it." Sinclair sighed, her shoulders slumping slightly, and I suddenly got the feeling that whoever it was that had pissed her off tonight was really missing out. "Anyway," she said, straightening up, "I was just stopping by to pick something up from my office. I'll let you get back to your work. Or not-work."
"Oh, it's work," I said quickly. "I'll... see you tomorrow then?"
"What? Oh, our meeting. Ah, yes, of course."
"I'm... sorry your date wasn't more successful," I added, since Sinclair was still hovering just slightly. "I'm, er, recently single myself," I offered. I'd managed to hear by now about my boss's recent divorce. It wasn't the sort of thing I'd bring up outside of hours, but now...
"Well, if you want my advice, skip the online dating thing - too much chaff, not enough wheat." Sinclair pushed herself straighter, smoothing her hands over her dress. "Though I don't know how anyone has time for anything else nowadays..."
"Well, that's the problem, isn't it?" I said with a wry smile. "I feel a little old for just going 'out on the pull' these days."
"You're too old for that? You're what, not even thirty?"
I raised an eyebrow. My date of birth was on my CV - apparently Sinclair didn't have much of a memory for that sort of detail? "I'm twenty seven, yes," I said. "But, eh, I don't know. After my PhD I guess it's not really my 'scene' anymore. So to speak," I added with a little smirk, although I didn't necessarily expect the other woman to get the joke.
"Mm. Well, don't work too hard," she said, smirking. "There's only room for one spinster in this lab."
"Oh, you're far from that," I found myself saying, the words out of my mouth before I could stop them.
So maybe my boss wasn't my 'type', but that slow smirk that she gave me certainly was. "Maybe not yet," she chuckled, shaking her head. "But the way things are going... well. Anyway," she said briskly, seeming to realize that for all this wasn't 'work', it was still a slightly unusual conversation to be having. "Just take it from me. Be careful of your priorities. They can come back and bite you if you're not careful."
"I'll keep that in mind."
"Mm. Good. I'll see you tomorrow, then."
When I have the chance, I like to get out and about. I like hiking, climbing, sailing - anything that gets me outside, uses my muscles and preferably also my brain.
But who has the time these days? So instead I find myself at the gym, on a crosstrainer or a rowing machine or in a spin class (I love cycling but dear God I hate spin classes). I keep meaning to join the university's climbing society or somesuch but I never get around to it. And bloody Keith 'won' our little yacht in the divorce.
At least it was quiet - I tended to go early in the morning before classes started, but late night was also good. And tonight, I had plenty of excess energy to burn. Popping my earbuds in, I cued up some music and climbed on the crosstrainer for a good hard session of frustration release.
My mind wandered, as usual, as I worked, and I found myself thinking back over my brief conversation with Alex Webb. I hadn't meant to share quite as much as I had with her, but I had downed a few drinks before escaping from my date and I suppose my tongue was a little looser than usual. At least she hadn't seemed quite as awkward as she had during our first few meetings - indeed, maybe it was the alcohol talking but I had actually enjoyed my 'chat' with her.
I was at the gym less than an hour - I'm a big fan of the 'little and often' school of exercise - and was interested to see that the light was still on in Webb's office as I passed back the same way after I left, headed for the nearest big street where I could grab a taxi home.
She wasn't in when I came back the next morning, but then, barely anybody else was. I worked steadily through the morning and then went to lecture just after lunch; it was only once I returned with a salad from the food hall that I saw Dr Webb, mostly because she was sitting in my office.
"Dr Webb," I remarked, trying to hide my surprise. "You're early."
Favouring me with a bright smile that was, refreshingly, a little less nervous than that of the previous day, Webb nodded and shrugged good naturedly. "What can I say. I'm keen. Did you get my emails okay?"
"Ah, yes. I did. All three of them." Sitting down, I arranged my food on my desk, then rummaged through the top drawer for the printouts I had made, along with my notes. "Do you mind if I eat while we discuss?"
"Oh, um, not at all," my assistant said with a fervent shake of her head. "Go ahead."
Unpacking my salad (I hated the amount of waste it created, but had little choice on busy days like today), I gestured to her with my fork. "Why don't you talk me through your main points to make sure we're on the same page?"
"Okay, so." Webb cleared her throat, and flipped through a couple of pages on her notebook, though I had a feeling this was more to gather the thoughts in her head than those on the page. "I think the strongest projects are the two on [something biodiverse] and the one on [some other biodiverse things]. The others are excellent sources for original research," she hastened to add, "but I don't think they lend themselves as well to group study."
I nodded; this was more or less what I had decided, but it was good to see we were in agreement. "Fair enough. So let's look at those two more closely," I told her, spearing a tomato on my fork. "See if we can pick one for our hapless interns to chew through."
Alex chuckled at this, her little grin showing off a pair of dimples. I decided that it was definitely a good sign that she was smiling more today, even if it was a little nervous. Perhaps our evening chat had been a good icebreaker. After all, Keira and I had been friends, once.
We began to discuss the proposals in more detail; I encouraged Alex to do most of the talking, while I ate my lunch and offered suggestions. I was pleased to find her both intelligent and creative, and not afraid of taking recommendations and adapting them to fit with existing ideas.
By the end of the meeting I was very much encouraged by my new assistant - we'd managed to find our way to first-name terms, and she was actually arguing with me, both very good things in my book. Having spent the first few days of her employment wondering quite why she was here I was now rather looking forward to working with Dr Alexandra Webb, and I told her as such (well, the latter part of the sentiment at least) as she was gathering her things to go.
I got another of those dimpled smiles and a suddenly-shy-again thank you for my trouble, although it was a little different from her previous nervousness.
"You too, Pr- Kathryn," she offered in reply. "I mean, well, obviously - I'm sure anyone in the field would be excited to work with you."
"Well. Just as well you managed to snag it first," I told her with a smirk.
"It seems so."
I couldn't help but wonder, though, as I left Kathryn's office, just how I had managed to 'snag' this job. The more I looked into the experience and publications lists of her previous assistants the more inadequate and underqualified I felt. Not only that, there were things - just the odd thing here and there, like her not being sure what age I was, and being surprised to hear about one of my postgraduate placements - that made me wonder just how closely she'd actually been involved in my selection. Surely she must have vetted her potential assistants fairly carefully?
Nevertheless, I'll admit that I was really enjoying working with her. I mean, she was incredibly busy most of the time, but she made time for me when I needed it and always seemed to put full effort into our collaborations despite her heavy workload.
In the meantime, I was settling into life in [wherever] pretty well. Lynn, in addition to being arty and cute and fun to flirt with, turned out to be quite the social hub, and I was immediately welcomed into her group of friends with open arms. They were mostly closer to my age than hers, more artists and writers and academics, and I quickly began to feel reasonably at home. There was still that itch, that feeling that I was still looking for something, something I could see out of the corner of my eye which seemed to disappear when I turned my head. But for now, life was good.
Since I was pretty well-supplied with potential friends in my 'real life', I didn't have to worry too much about chumming it up with people at work. Still, they were a nice bunch and I usually found myself in the staffroom at least once a day with a couple of them and we would chat pleasantly enough while eating our biscuits.
Sarah in particular seemed to consider providing me with company and conversation to be part of her job, and she performed it diligently, always sitting with me if she appeared in the staffroom to find me sitting alone.
On one such afternoon she bustled in, flipping the switch on the kettle and pulling her special tin of tea out of the cupboard with a cheery "Hullo! And how is Alex this fine day?"
"Cold - is it just me or is the weather turning nippy?" I commented as she turned to lean back against the counter while she waited for the water to come back to the boil. "How's yourself?"
"Oh, just fine, just fine... keeping myself busy. And you're right, it is a little nippy... we'll have to see what we can do to keep things at a decent temperature in here. Those big picture windows are lovely but they just suck all the heat right out of a room, don't they?"
"Well, I have my little space heater in the office, so at least there's no danger of me freezing at my desk."
"Well isn't that clever?" Sarah said, grinning. "Maybe I'll just put in a budget request and get us all our own personal heater."
"Could be a plan if it gets colder," I agreed with a grin, sipping at my tea.
"Mmhmm!" she said brightly. A few minutes later she had made her tea just so and was settled in the chair next to me, picking out a biscuit from the neatly-arranged tray. "How are all your projects coming along? Professor S seems very happy with your progress so far."
"Well, I think - thanks," I said with a nod. "It looks as though we're well on track to have everything prepped for the classes before the end of this semester - I mean, inevitably I'll end up finishing some stuff up along with my marking over the break, but we'll definitely be ready to go in January."
Sarah nodded. "It's incredible you were able to slide into the role like you did - we all thought that with Keira leaving like she did that things would be be in a shambles forever."
"Oh?" I tried to keep my tone - and my expression - one of innocent enquiry. It was unclear quite why Keira Ford had left her post as Kathryn's assistant so suddenly, and this only confirmed my suspicions that the circumstances had been in some way convoluted.
"Well, you know, she left so abruptly," Sarah said in a conspiratorial voice, shaking her head. "And with Dr S leaving as well... things were in a bit of a state around here for a while."
"Keith Sinclair was formerly in this unit?"
"Yes, of course - you didn't know?" Sarah didn't wait for my confirmation before going on. "He and Professor S practically built this department from the ground up, so you can imagine how everybody felt when he did what he did."
My mind whirred. Suddenly a few gears clicked into place. "He became involved with Keira Ford."
"Bingo," Sarah said, nodding grimly. "And then she quit, and he went off on sabbatical and poor Professor S was left picking up the pieces. Not that she'd put it that way, mind," she added. "But still, after all she went through. It's no wonder she couldn't face hiring... well. I'm sure you understand."
I nodded, every conversation I'd had with Kathryn Sinclair in the first few days I'd been here suddenly making sense. She didn't know anything about me because she wasn't the one who hired me. "Of course," I said eventually, when I realised that Sarah was still waiting for a response.
"At any rate, here we are now! Sometimes things all work out for the best in the end."
I smiled a little, although I'm not sure my heart was in it. I'd been so surprised and confused when I had been given this job - not that I didn't think I could do it, but it wasn't the sort of thing that generally went to someone with as spotted and random an academic career as me, someone with so little direction. But the past few weeks, I suppose I had let myself think that maybe Kathryn Sinclair had seen something in me that I hadn't in myself, that maybe she knew somehow where I was going even if I didn't.
And now it turned out that she hadn't even seen my CV.
Sarah chattered at me for a while longer, but I finished my tea as soon as I could and politely excused myself at the first opportunity. I just wanted to get back to my office and get on with my work, so I was surprised as anyone when my steps led me not down the hallway to my office but instead to that of Kathryn Sinclair, who looked up as I entered, eyebrows raised.
"Hello, Alex. Something I can help you with?"
"You didn't hire me." I blinked a little at my own abruptness, immediately wondering what the hell I was thinking.
"Excuse me?"
"I, um..." I took a breath, shaking my head a little. "Sorry. What I mean to say is... Am I right in thinking that you weren't actually involved in my being placed with you?"
"I'm head of the department," Kathryn said, frowning slightly. "All hiring requests have to come through me."
"So you did read my letter and CV?" I raised my eyebrows.
She hesitated. I had observed enough by now to know that Kathryn Sinclair was a pretty forthright person; she didn't hold back her opinions or soften them for other people's comfort. I braced myself for the worst. "No, I didn't." Kathryn sighed and looked up at me. "Professor Weaver went through all the applicants. I just signed the contract offer."
I let out the breath I hadn't realised I was holding. "All... right." So what now? I had got it from her lips, but what did I have to say now? I'd already been quite agressive enough; I wasn't about to challenge her on her decision not to involve herself in my appointment. And even if I did what would I say? Eventually I managed a stiff "Thank you," and I turned to go.
"Dr Webb." I stopped in spite of myself at her tone, slowly turning back to face her. "I understand your consternation at this revelation, but I hope it won't affect our working relationship. I have been very pleased with your work so far."
"Of course." I shook my head, although I really had no way of making any such guarantee. "It's... fine," I added. "It just... explains... some things." I felt my brow furrow. "It's fine," I said again.
She frowned again and looked down at her desktop diary. "Perhaps we should continue our discussion later. Would you be able to join me for a drink after work?"
"I..." I was supposed to be meeting one of Lynn's friends for a drink after work. "...Sure."
"Alright." She named a bar that I knew was nearby, leaning in to pencil it into her own diary. "Seven o'clock?"
Still a little confused - why would she want to talk more about this? - I nodded again. "I'll see you there."
I arrived slightly early to the bar, ordering a glass of wine and finding at seat at one of the more secluded tables. As I sat there sipping my rather nice chardonnay I found myself wondering, not for the first time that day, why I was there.
I had been surprised when Alex had confronted me so abruptly over her hiring - at the time it had seemed like the only way to keep my sanity together under a suddenly increased workload (yet another side effect of Keith's sudden 'sabbatical'), though looking at it now I could see why she might be upset by it. Not that I thought she had reason to be: hadn't I told her how pleased I was with her work? If her hiring had been impersonal then I had tried to make up for it the best I could since then. Maybe I felt I still owed her an explanation. Maybe I just wanted her pardon. Whatever the case, I had resolved not to leave that evening until I knew I could trust my new assistant, and she me.
Alex herself was pretty much exactly on time - and she wore that look of purpose I'd come to recognise from our meetings or from when I sat in on her seminars. Clearly she was determined to be businesslike, although I saw her take in my wine with a glance as she nodded her hello from across the room, and when she arrived over at the table she was carrying what I presumed from appearance and smell to be a single malt whisky.
"An unusual choice," I commented as she said down, raising an eyebrow at her glass. "If you don't mind my saying so."
She looked mildly surprised that I'd commented, but recovered with a wry smile. "I drink wine too quickly," she confessed.
"Ah. And here I was thinking you were just trying to look hard."
Alex's lips twitched slightly in amusement at this. "I think I could maybe manage urbane at best," she said, those dimples showing again, and I found myself silently agreeing that despite her short haircut and collared shirt, she couldn't look 'hard' if she tried.
I knew it would be all too easy to take refuge in smalltalk, and as tempting as that was I knew I couldn't succumb to it. "So," I said, clearing my throat. "You must have some questions for me."
She hesitated. "Pr- Kathryn, I don't want to pry into your internal affairs. I'm sorry that I reacted in the way I did before."
"It was a bit sudden," I told her, shrugging. "But I can understand your reaction. You're my assistant, therefore it would've been logical to assume I would have been the one to hire you."
"I suppose I just..." Alex frowned, glancing down into her glass and taking a sip before going on. "I had wondered. How I managed to be here. I suppose I feel as though I... I don't know. As though I'm only here because someone was hiring me in a hurry and anyone with the basic qualifications would do. It was just a blow to my ego I suppose and, well, like I say. I overreacted."
"It may not have been a typical hiring process, I agree. But as I've said, you've shown yourself to be more than qualified since you've arrived. I'm very pleased with your work." I hoped this would appease her; I don't know why I felt so bad about hurting her pride but I found myself going out of my way to console her. "I wouldn't have kept you on if you weren't doing well."
She looked more embarrassed than reassured, but she at least smiled again as she looked back up at me. "Thanks," she said. "I really am sorry. I appreciate that it was a... difficult patch."
I waved a hand, as I always did whenever anybody tried to be sympathetic about what had happened. "The biggest difficulty was having to reallocate all of his projects; we've had to farm out some of the work, which I didn't want to do, but there wasn't much choice."
"And he's in... South America, is that right?"
"Mmhmm. With your predecessor." I took a large gulp of wine; maybe I wasn't as ready to talk about this as I wished. "And my son."
Alex raised her eyebrows. "Oh, I didn't know you had children," she said.
"Just the one. Though it feels a bit like I lost him in the settlement, too." Oh God. Maudlin already? This was not gong well.
My assistant shot me a sympathetic look - to my surprised she looked slightly less embarrassed more rather than moreso. "That can't be easy. Do you two still talk plenty?"
"As often as we can. They're not always in satellite range, but we try." I gave her a grateful smile. "He's happy, at least. I'm glad of that."
Alex nodded. "Well, I'm sure it's a little different from staying home playing the X-Box," she said with a slight smile. "It must be a pretty big adventure for him."
"Well, Keith and I used to take him with us as much as possible whenever we traveled," I replied, pursing my lips. "I'm sure this is old hat to him by now."
"Wow, I never got further than Portugal when I was a kid," Alex said with a slight grin.
This made me chuckle. "It seems you turned out all right regardless."
There were those dimples again. "Ah, well, I didn't have an X-Box either."
"More of the sporty type, were you?"
Alex's smile spread slightly. "Now you're just trying to flatter me," she said. "Nah, I was a stay-at-home geeky type, through and through. All I did was read and watch television. I did some sailing, once upon a time, but other than that..."
"Really?" I knew my expression had just lit up like bioluminescent algae but didn't really care. "I love sailing. What sort did you do?"
Alex looked a little surprised, but, like me, pleased to meet someone who shared the hobby. "Toppers and Wayfarers mostly, although I went on a couple of holidays on bigger boats. Haven't been out in years though. You?"
"A little bit of everything, though most recently a 32 foot cruising yacht."
"Wow. A little out of my league, then."
"Oh, they pretty much just sail themselves," I said with a grin. "Besides, I lost that too, so if I do ever sail again it'll probably be in something much smaller and much more affordable."
Alex's face turned sympathetic again as she finished the last of her whisky. "That's a terrible shame. Particularly since it's presumably not moored off the Chilean coast..."
"Sadly, no." Although I was secretly grateful that Keith hadn't taken Keira to South America in our yacht... that would have been pushing things a little bit.
My assistant smirked slightly. "Maybe you should steal it," she suggested. "Or, well, borrow it without asking."
"I do still have keys," I mused, finishing my own drink and setting down my glass. "But there's no way I'd be able to take it out just on my own."
"Well, I'm sure I'm a bit rusty, but if you ever need a crew for some piracy, let me know," Alex said with a smirk. Then, her confidence apparently bolstered a little, she nodded toward my drink. "Do you..?"
"Go ahead," I said surprising myself with how eager I sounded. It wasn't that I hadn't expected Alex to be a perfectly pleasant drinking companion, but I was actually enjoying myself more tonight than on most of the dates I had been on. "Next round's on me."
I had meant, of course, that I should buy the round, but somehow it was Kathryn who went to the bar and returned with another glass of wine for herself and another whisky for me.
If I'm honest I was glad of the chance to sit and gather my thoughts - I had always been the type of student who was friendly with tutors and professors in uni and this wasn't the first time I'd been for a drink with a professor or with my boss. Nonetheless it was always a hard line to walk, striking a balance between informal and respectful, and I was keen not to overstep the mark.
At least the conversation had turned out to be less awlward than I had expected; I wasn't really angry with her over it and the praise she had given me had more than made up for my initial annoyance. I couldn't forget what a good opportunity this was, and even if luck and happenstance had gotten me the job it was only skill that would let me keep it.
Kathryn didn't seem particularly interested in talking any further about work, however, as when she sat back down with our drinks she immediately launched into another musing about her sailing holidays, peppering her anecdotes with questions for me about my own experiences.
"When I first began I used to get terribly seasick - I still do sometimes actually," she said, making a face. "Did you?"
I shook my head. "I have a pretty strong stomach - or inner ear, I don't know, whatever it is. Either way I'm always happy on water."
"That's fortunate. I still love it, even when I'm feeling sick. There's just something about the total freedom of it all..."
I found myself nodding enthusiastically. "I did all sorts of stuff in my teens - surfing, kayaking... but I was really only any good at sailing."
"Well then," she said with what could only be described as a conspiratorial grin, "we'll have to get you back out on the water soon. While the weather's still nice, certainly."
"Well then," she said with what could only be described as a conspiratorial grin, "we'll have to get you back out on the water soon. While the weather's still nice, certainly."
I raised my eyebrows doubtfully. "This is 'nice'?"
"Hey, if you want nice we are going to have to go to Chile," Kathryn replied, chuckling.
I grinned. "I was just commenting to Sarah earlier that it was starting to feel distinctly chilly around here thank you very much," I said, waggling my eyebrows at the corny pun.
Luckily it got a laugh from my boss, who seemed about as relaxed now as I had ever seen her. She was only partway through her second glass of wine and I wondered briefly if she had eaten before coming here. "Well, that certainly wasn't very discrete of you," she said, grinning back. Okay, she was definitely a bit tipsy.
I made a face of mock-pain, then asked, "So is the food any good here?" I found myself prompting slightly. "I didn't manage to have dinner..."
"Oh, it's not bad, I suppose... I didn't eat either, come to think of it."
Bingo... "Hm. Maybe I should just head home after this one and stick something in the oven," I mused, hesitant to make any suggestions that Kathryn would find presumptuous or overfamiliar.
"If you like," she said, considering her glass. She glanced up at me then and gave me a smile which shouldn't have been half as charming as it was. "Or you could stay and have dinner with me. My treat."
I think I may have grinned like an idiot. "I'd love to. But you'd better let me get the next round."
"I think that seems fair enough."
The food, it turned out, was more than good enough for my standards although I supposed that Kathryn was perhaps a little pickier about her eateries than I was. She started in enthusiastically enough on her crabcakes, however, chatting animatedly about an upcoming conference she was scheduled to speak at in between bites. I appreciated her habit of peppering her conversation with questions, seeking my opinion about this and that and really listening to the answers I gave, however mundane. It did mean that I found myself holding forth on all sorts of ridiculous subjects, including public speaking, skincare regimes, and somehow hotel bathtowels...
"Oh! There was this one hotel in... God, Singapore, I think it was, with the best towels." Kathryn grinned, gesturing expansively with her glass. "I took them all."
"You stole from the hotel?"
"No, not technically - they charged me an arm and a leg for them on my bill!"
I laughed. "Is that what they do? Wow... I've never stolen anything from... well, almost anywhere, actually."
"If you do, make sure they don't have an imprint of your credit card beforehand, that's all I can say."
"Noted."
"But I still have those towels," she added, laughing. "So it was worth it."
"D'you know, I think some of my towels are still the old ones I took from home when I left for uni. That's pretty pathetic, eh?"
"That depends... do they still match the decor?" I was almost positive that the look she shot me wasn't supposed to be flirtatious.
"Hah, what decor?" I said, chuckling and shaking my head. "My kitchen doesn't even have wallpaper."
"Well, then, I suppose it doesn't matter what your towels look like, does it?"
"Not unless I want to hang them on the wall."
"Now there's an interesting decorating choice. And here I thought you weren't the creative type-- Sorry. Sorry," she said, correcting herself almost immediately. "That came out wrong."
I shook my head, waving my hand and smiling. "No, no, you're actually totally right."
"Am I?"
"I've never been creative. I guess it's why I'm drawn to artists and musicians - romantically, I mean."
"Interesting..." Kathryn leaned forward, raising her eyebrows. "Don't you find them sort of..."
"Flaky? Temperamental? Incredibly sexy?" I nodded cheerfully. "Yep!"
"Huh. Well, to each their own," she replied, shrugging dismissively.
"I mean, you're right, though. That is, what you're thinking," I added. "It never does work out."
"Ah. Well, neither does the other route," Kathryn told me, lifting her glass again. "In my personal experience, at least. So where does that leave us?"
"Bitter and alone?"
"Ah, yes. Thank you for reminding me," she said with a wry smile.
"Oh, no, I'm sorry, I was just-"
"No, no, it's alright, really. That was a joke. Well, mostly. I had forgotten a little bit how bitter and lonely I am - you're good company, Dr Webb."
I think I may have beamed. I do know that I was relieved that it was dark enough that she couldn't see me blush slightly. "You're not so bad yourself, Professor Sinclair," I countered with a raise of my eyebrows, hiding safely beneath the mantle of assumed heterosexuality.
"What can I say?" she asked with a flourish. "I try."
"Oh, I doubt you need to." The comment came naturally - I was on a roll now.
Kathryn grinned, reaching up to run her fingers through her hair, though I couldn't tell if she was playing along or if it was just nerves. "Another drink?"
I blinked in mild surprise. Why not? "Sure."
I'm pretty good with people. I'm congenial, self-assured and a good conversationalist, so I had fully expected to be able to charm Alex round. I hadn't expected her to charm me. Yet here I was, on my third - fourth? - drink of the night, happily settling back into my chair with no desire to run away or bash my companion over the head with a plate. It was the most successful date I had been on in weeks. If it had been a date.
"You know, I had a lecture to prep for tonight," Alex admonished me as she arrived back in her seat from the bathroom. "I don't know what my boss is going to think of me..."
"The rate things are going she's not even going to make it in tomorrow, so I think you're probably safe." This was untrue, of course - I hadn't missed a day of work in months, maybe years, and I wasn't so drunk that I was going to break that streak.
Alex laughed though, obviously not taking me too seriously, and returned to sipping at her own whisky, cradling the glass in her hand. I took this opportunity to really look at her, noticing again the interesting dichotomy of her appearance - her hardwearing, sensible clothing and shoes, her cropped hair, short fingernails, simple stud earrings and lack of any make-up sitting at odds somehow with her feminine figure and pretty face. She had full lips, long eyelashes and dark eyes that twinkled when she was smiling, and I suddenly wished that more women chose to eschew make-up day-to-day, just letting nature do its own work. I had spent enough time in the field over my career that I was perfectly comfortable letting people see me without a 'face' on, but even I tended to put on a touch of mascara and some natural coloured lip gloss in the morning when I was based at the university.
I must've been staring, just a bit, as she caught my eye and smirked just slightly, causing me to blush at being caught. "Anyway," I said, keen to move the conversation on as quickly as possible now, "we ought to go sailing. What do you think?"
She looked slightly taken aback at this, but by no means reluctant. "Sure, why not?" she said. "Although I have to warn you, I'm pretty rusty. Is there, I don't know, a university sailing club or something? Or are you just going to steal back your yacht?"
"I suppose we could start small... though it is a very nice yacht."
"I think maybe I should get back out in a wayfarer again before I start playing with the rigging on a thirty-footer," she said, her chuckle making it sound almost suggestive, though I couldn't think of any double entre off-hand that actually made sense, so I just smiled a little and took a suitably enigmatic sip of my wine.
"When's good for you?" I asked after a few moments had passed; it surprised me how eager I was to do this, but the idea of getting out on the water again was incredibly tempting. "I've got that conference this weekend, but maybe the one after?"
"Oh, um..." Alex looked a little taken aback again, and I wondered whether I'd overstepped the mark slightly, but it didn't take her long to parse the request and apparently deem it acceptable. "Sure," she said, shrugging good naturedly. "Absolutely. I mean, why not?" She grinned.
"A ringing endorsement if ever I heard one," I laughed. "All right. I'll look into the best way to do this and let you know what I find."
Alex's smiled turned just slightly shy again. "I'll look forward to it."
Four drinks was really my limit on a weekday, and it wasn't too much longer before we both agreed it was time to call it a night. We walked out of the bar together, both a little giddy from the alcohol and the surprisingly enjoyable nature of the evening. Kathryn turned toward me, fingers fiddling with the buttons on her coat. "Well. Don't worry about being in too early tomorrow, Dr Webb."
"Oh, don't worry about me," I replied with a grin. "I'll be bright and early as usual - just a little less well prepared."
"Like they'll even notice," she said, rolling her eyes, and I found myself laughing a little again.
"Well, nonetheless, I'll see you tomorrow. Thanks for... well, 'meeting with me' seems like an odd way to put it now..."
"You're welcome," she told me, smiling. "For whatever it was. I had a nice time."
"I did too."
I really had. It was odd, because I hadn't thought that Kathryn and I would have anything to talk about in a more casual encounter, but she was just so easy-going and had such broad interests that I'd actually been rather sorry that we had had to call it a night. I wasn't even worried about encountering her the next day - sometimes it could be weird running into a work colleague after a night out, but I had the feeling that she wouldn't feel weird about it and neither should I. As I was heading towards the nearest taxi rank I remembered my mobile, pulling it out of my pocket to find a text from Lynn sitting in my inbox.
Shit... I'd completely forgotten that I was supposed to meet one of Lynn's friends for a drink a good two hours ago now. Only looking in my call memory did I notice the two missed calls I'd had.
Cursing myself in my head, I hit the callback button on Debbie's number. I liked Deb - she was smart, amusing, and we were two of the few people in our 'friends group' who had science rather than arts degrees and so had a slowly blossoming friendship. Lynn had encouraged us to spend more time together, confiding in me that she thought Debbie fancied me. I supposed I could safely assume that would no longer be the case after tonight.
Debbie picked up almost immediately, though her tone was more suspicious than eager. "Hello?"
"Debbie, this is Alex - I am so, so sorry," I said immediately. "I went for a drink with my boss after work and got completely caught up - I couldn't get away. Please tell me how I can make it up for you - are you still in town?"
"No - I went home after I waited for an hour and you didn't show. You could have at least texted me, Alex..."
"I know, I know. I just didn't notice the time passing. Is there anything I can do? Really, at all."
There were several seconds of loud silence, and I thought for a moment she had hung up, but eventually I heard a sigh. "I guess you deserve at least one more chance. Tomorrow is my knitting group night - you want to come along?"
I made a face, stifling a sigh of my own. Clearly this was my karmic payback. "Can I be the one who sits with my hands apart while someone wraps wool around them?" I asked in my sweetest tone.
"I'm sure we can find someone who will want to wrap you up."
I felt fine the next day, to my relief and mild surprise. After all, I'm not thirty any more and going drinking with a twenty something should have been a recipe for disaster.
Alex was already in her office by the time I arrived, and we exchanged conspiratorial smiles as we passed one another in the hall.
The rest of the day went by in a blur - between lectures, preparing for the conference and various meetings I barely had time to sit down, much less relax. Thus I wasn't sure whether I was pleased or annoyed when I got a text from Mike-from-last-week - at least, that's how he introduced himself.
I didn't get back to him immediately; like I said, I was busy, and I wasn't sure if I really believed his 'no strings' promise. Eventually, though, around half past five I texted him back, suggesting a bar midway between the office and my flat - what could one drink hurt?
He was dressed much more casually than the last time we'd met, in a long-sleeved teeshirt and jeans, and was already nursing a pint, albeit he was less than an inch into it as I arrived. I stopped at the bar and ordered a G&T before heading over to where he sat, giving him a friendly enough smile. "All right, Mike?"
He grinned back up at me and straightened a bit, although he didn't stand on ceremony this time. "Been worse, you know. Yourself?"
"Fine, thanks." I slid into a seat, setting my things down around me.
"Hard week?"
"Just long, but aren't they all?"
"They do if you then spend your weekends at conferences - I'm remembering right, yeah? That's this weekend?"
I smiled; it was nice to know he had been listening before. "Mmhmm. A whole three days in glamorous Frankfurt. Good memory."
"Listening to a bunch of environmentalists bang on about their lives, God, how boring - who would do that voluntarily?" Mike said with a wink.
"Only crazy people," I retorted, smirking. "Speaking of which, close any big deals this week?"
"I wish. I still have a job, though, so that's a start. Still, five more years and I'll have enough saved up to retire, fingers crossed." Mike grinned . "I suppose that makes me more evil still in your eyes," he added.
"It depends on what you do after you retire. If it's driving around in a gas-guzzling SUV while throwing Styrafoam cups out your window I might object. But I'm pro-environment, not anti-fun. You can retire when you like."
"No, I'm going to buy a Prius and become an organic yoghurt maker," Mike retorted with one of those even-toothed, charming grins, and I mused not for the first time that it was a shame I wasn't remotely interested in him romantically - he was probably quite a catch.
"Well then, you have my blessing," I said benevolently, sipping my drink.
"So tell me more about your week," my companion went on now, sitting forward a little. "Any more disasterous dates with impossibly handsome dullards?"
I made a face. "Not really... I think I've given up on dating. Probably for the best, since I don't think being arrested for homicide would be particularly good for my career."
Mike smirked. "Didn't go so well with Mr Hedge Fund then?"
"I'm not sure which I enjoyed more, his self-righteous drivel or having my sexuality questioned..."
This drew a hearty laugh. "He pulled that one out, did he? Well, you are outdoorsy, I suppose," he said consideringly, tipping his head to one side in mock appraisal, "but somehow I can't quite see it."
"Mm. I think it was mostly the shocking idea that I didn't want to sleep with him that did it," I told him dryly. "Because that must be the only explanation."
"Clearly." Mike smirked, and shook his head. "No long game."
"Oh, and I suppose that's what this is, then?" Maybe it was a bit mean to bring it up, but I had to ask. If he was just interested in getting in my trousers then the notion needed to be crushed straightaway. "Casual drinks, and before I know it bang! We're in bed."
I immediately felt a little guilty when I saw the sad little smile he shot me in return. "Don't worry," he said, shaking his head, "I hold out no such youthful optimism. I just really enjoyed our conversation last week, and... well, I thought maybe we had the makings of a friendship. And I think maybe I need that more than a relationship right now. How about you?"
"...actually, you're completely right. And I'm sorry. One thing you'll have to learn if you want to be friends - I can be pretty horrible sometimes."
Mike shook his head, waving the comment away. "I'd call that honest, not horrible."
I shot him a grin, then took a drink. "Well then, maybe we can be friends. You're certainly delusional enough to qualify."
"I can do delusional," he replied, with a slightly less sad smile that certainly betrayed that he still held a small candle. But I reckoned I could handle that. "Anyway," he changed the subject now. "Have you been followng the US midterms run-up? I saw a really good documentary the other day..."
"Alex, hey, you made it!" I felt slightly guilty at how pleased Debbie seemed to see me; she must've expected me not to show up, again. She gave me a quick hug, shifting the large bag she held over one shoulder. "How are you?"
"Good, thanks," I said with a grin as I returned her hug. "Was I suppose to bring knitting, by the way?" I added with mock-nerves. "Because I really didn't... Will I be tortured?"
"Trust me, there's plenty of extra to go around," she assured me with a grin. "Besides, I thought you just wanted to be a stationary object."
"That is my main goal in life..."
Debbie laughed, her bright blue eyes crinkling at the corners. "It's always good to aim high. C'mon, let's go inside."
It turned out I actually knew a few people from the knitting group, and so we all got on pretty well despite my lack of knitting knowledge, and although one of the bigger 'knitting geeks' had brought along a yarn-spooling device, Debbie still had me sitting, hands held apart for her to wrap wool around them anyway. I felt a little humoured, but I was grateful to have something to do.
"So," she was saying as she wound the yarn around my outstretched hands, "how's work? Still overloaded with stuff?"
"Not as much, now that I'm getting into it," I said. "There were some teething issues, but I think my boss and I are finding our way onto the right wavelength now."
"That's good, at least. It's always good, finding a balance. I worked for this guy once, he kept changing what he wanted, week to week, and it was the most stressful thing ever... " Though Debbie was in the sciences she had gone into the public sector instead of academia, and as such had a whole different set of experiences than mine, and that made for engaging, rather involved sorts of conversation that tended to result in other people getting bored and ceasing to listen - which worked fine for me as I've always been more of a one-on-one type anyway.
We descended into one of those conversations now, comparing our working environments and the projects we were currently engaged in. Debbie knew enough about my field to asked the right sort of questions, and it felt good having someone outside the office to bounce my ideas off of.
"I really am so sorry about last night," I said eventually - somewhat spontaneously, although we had been talking about time-consuming work meetings. "I swear that's really not like me."
"It's alright," she responded, shaking her head. "I mean, I was annoyed at the time, but I understand. It's not like you can really tell your boss you've got somewhere better to be."
"But I should have called - or at least texted," I persisted. "There's really no excuse for that."
Debbie narrowed her eyes at me. "Do you want to be forgiven or not?"
I held up my hands - although only a little as they still had yarn around them. "I do, I do - I just don't want you giving me an easy ride 'cause you're so nice," I said with my most charmingly innocent smile. "I'm trying to take responsibility."
"Okay, well, noted. As well as your infraction," she said, trying to bite back a grin. "It'll all go on your permanent record, how's that?"
"Acceptable, I suppose," I replied with a congenial smile.
"Good. Now, are you sure you don't want to try knitting? It's really easy, you'll pick it up in no time..."
"I really am all thumbs..."
"Okay, but if you change your mind I'd be happy to show you."
"I'll keep that in mind."
All in all, it was a really nice evening. Debbie was smart, good natured and she had plenty to say for herself, and despite my resolution to ignore Lynn's scheming I had to admit that she was quite attractive. We parted ways with another hug and a promise to make good on those missed drinks soon, and as I headed back home I found myself marvelling at all the stuff I had to look forward to. My job was looking up, I was resurrecting an old hobby with a new friend, and it seemed there was even the beginning of what might turn into something good. It looked very much like moving here hadn't been a mistake after all.
Mike had been right - I had a busy life. The conference in Frankfurt had gone relatively well; I had been a keynote speaker at one of the evening events and my talk was well-received (as well it should have been; I put a lot of work into it). Most of the rest of the time was spent 'networking', which I knew was invaluable but also exhausting. Far from catching up with work on the train ride home I spent most of it asleep, waking up to find a small child staring at me from the seat adjacent.
The rest of the week was a blur of lectures, meetings, and late nights in the office; if my annoyance with online dating hadn't curtailed my nights out my self-imposed schedule would have. The reason for the deluge of work was the fact that I was trying to clear my weekend completely; I had managed to book a session on a Wayfarer through the local yachting club (of which I was still a member) for Alex and I. It had been a long time since I had been on one of the smaller boats and I found myself looking forward to it with a mixture of anticipation and, surprisingly, a little nervousness.
The day was clear but cold, and it took us some time to coordinate ourselves well enough to get out of the harbor. Sailing with another person was a bit like making love - the first few times it's all fumbles and awkward groping until you ease into a comfortable rhythm, a pattern of smoothly-timed movements that have you cutting through the water like, well, a well-oiled machine. I didn't say this to Alex, of course.
"So, what did you think?" I glanced briefly at Alex, then turned my attention back to the road ahead. "Ready to quit your job and run off to be a pirate?"
"God, in a second," Alex replied emphatically, shimmying down a little in her car seat into a more relaxed position. "High seas here I come."
I couldn't help but grin. "You certainly seemed to pick it back up quickly enough."
"Yeah, I had no idea I would remember so much, actually. Guess there are some things you just don't forget."
"Just like falling off a bike..."
Alex chuckled, her voice a little hoarse, her throat dry from the wind and salt water from our trip. I was feeling a bit windswept myself; it was wonderful. "So, same time next week?" I joked.
"Wow, if only."
"Mm. I know what you mean. My schedule's a bit too manic for any weekly personal commitments. Except for Desperate Housewives, and even that I have to record."
Alex laughed. "Desperate Housewives? Really?"
"Oh, don't tell me you're some kind of TV purist! It's an excellent show," I protested. "Okay, maybe 'excellent' is the wrong word, but it is fun."
Alex didn't say anything, but on glancing to my side I could see that she was smirking. I made a 'hurt' face, pouting slightly in an attempt for sympathy. "Can we at least pretend I didn't tell you that? I'd hate to lose your respect so early in our working relationship."
My assistant chuckled again. "Oh, you're okay," she said. "We all have our guilty pleasure television - even me."
"And that would be..."
"Oh, hah... The L Word," Alex said after a slight hesitation.
I had to think for a moment - I don't actually watch that much television, though the name did seem vaguely familiar. "Oh! You mean that show with Jennifer Beals. She's fab."
"Um, yeah, among others," came the murmur of agreement. "It's pretty trashy, but there you go."
"Nothing wrong with trashy," I assured her, wondering why she seemed quite so embarrassed. Hadn't I already admitted my own guilty pleasure? "Your secret's safe with me."
Glancing back over I saw that she was looking back at me, an unreadable expression crossing her face, though she quickly resolved it to a smile as I met her eyes. "I suppose we're even, then," she murmured.
"I guess so."
The rest of the ride back was pretty quiet - my fault, I suppose. I don't know why I had been so shy about mentioning The L Word - it wasn't like I got the impression that Kathryn was homophobic or anything like that, and her reaction had been pretty neutral, really.
I suppose I'd always been in the habit of being 'in' at work, just by default - well, not 'in' per se, just... neutral. And neutral, of course, meant straight-until-proven-otherwise.
And it's not that I wouldn't come out to my work if I felt it was relevant, but it's wasn't. Except that now Kathryn had confused matters with this unexpected friendship thing, and I would never be closeted with my friends. So which category did she belong in for my purposes?
I still hadn't really figured anything out by the time we pulled up outside my flat, though my stomach was now roiling with a mixture of hunger and nerves. Kathryn stuck the car in neutral, turning to look at me somewhat expectantly. "That was great. Check your calendar and let me know when you're free for next time, yeh?"
"Oh, um, great." I realised that didn't sound overly enthusiastic and hastened to add, "I'm really not that busy other than work, so you know when I'm free as well as I do, basically."
"All right, well, I'll see when I can get another rental, then."
This time I knew my smile was more genuine - I'd just thought about how great it was going to be to be back out on the water again. "Great," I said, this time with feeling.
Kathryn smiled at me fondly, and I was struck by how attractive she looked, her hair still tousled from the wind, her tanned cheeks slightly pink. "I hope you have a good rest of the weekend - any plans?" she asked then.
"Recovering from this, I imagine," I replied with a tired roll of my eyes.
She chuckled and nodded her understanding. "A good hot bath and you'll be right as rain."
"Mm, sounds lovely - if only I actually had enough room for one of those in my showerroom," I said, making a face. "I suppose I could get a barrel from somewhere and boil a whole lot of water..."
"Oh, you poor thing. You're welcome to come round to mine and use my bath - it's big enough for three people. Not that I've tried," she added, smirking.
"I, um..." It wasn't what she'd meant, of course, but naturally the foremost thought in my mind was now that of sharing a bath with Kathryn Sinclair, and I felt the tips of my ears grow hot. "I'll bear that in mind," I said eventually.
"Good! Well, I suppose I'll see you on Monday, then."
"I'll look forward to it," I said, immediately feeling like more of an idiot than ever. "See you then."
After the upheaval of the past few months it was nice to settle into a routine again. Most of my time was taken up with work, of course - the department still had more than its share of projects going with Keith's sabbatical, and though it wasn't impossible to keep them all running it was a very precise juggling job to make sure nothing came crashing down. What free time I had I spent at the gym or with friends, including what were becoming more-or-less regular sailing sessions with Alex and drinks every week or so with Mike.
My two newest acquaintances were both interesting, though albeit in very different ways. My friendship with Mike was turning out to be surprisingly enjoyable; he was funny, attentive, and interesting - basically a great guy, and I found myself wishing on more than one occasion I was in any way attracted to him, since the alternative was just a waste.
Alex was a different matter again. I'm not ageist by nature - if anything, a good number of my friends tended a little younger than me these days simply due to the nature of my field. That being said, it wasn't usual for me to be so drawn to the personality of someone fresh out of their PhD - my previous assistant, Keira, had been older than Alex and with an extra degree, but she hadn't had the same depth of personality or character, not by a long way - and I knew this wasn't merely the bitterness talking.
Perhaps it was due to her 'lack of focus' - something which I could tell she had hesitated disclosing to her boss but had come out toward the end of one of our post-sailing drives home. Alex was plagued, it seemed, by a worry that she was too much of a generalist to work in Academia, and too much of an academic to work anywhere else. She was pretty self-deprecatory about the whole thing to the point where I found myself almost arguing with her over the choices she'd made. I did wonder, though, whether that lack of the drive to specialise - the time she'd taken out between degrees to work and travel and volunteer, the various places she'd lived or studied, her catholic tastes in literature and cinema - were what made her significantly more interesting company than anyone under thirty I'd ever met - and a good few folk over thirty for that matter.
Soon our sailing days graduated to other occasions - a drink after work, working lunches that were more lunch than work, grabbing dinner on the way home from the marina. I had never socialized so often with an assistant before, and I could tell certain people in the office were, well, surprised, if we're putting it nicely. It didn't bother me much; I was well used to gossip going on behind my back... at least I was in control of this round.
We'd even managed to graduate beyond that initial 'work and hobbies' chat and onto our lives - or mine, at least. I found to my mild surprise that Alex was a good audience for my complaining about the horrors of middle-aged online dating. I tried not to whinge too much, especially since my desire to find a replacement for Keith had died down considerably, but she was more than sympathetic to the stories I shared with her about the various arseholes I had met in the course of my search. Eventually I began inquiring into her lovelife, though she was reluctant to share as openly as I had done at first.
I couldn't understand why until one evening when, on the third instance of her checking her watch I couldn't help but take one more shot at getting beneath the surface of her private life.
"You know," I told her, picking up my half-full glass of pinot grigio and swirling it thoughtfully, "if you have somewhere you need to be you're welcome to go. Wouldn't want to keep your date waiting."
She glanced back up guiltily. "Oh, it's not a date," she said quickly. "At least..." She made a face. "I think we're still figuring that part out," she said eventually, looking at once reluctant to go on and just a little desperate to talk to someone.
"Ah," I said knowingly. "New acquaintance or old friend?"
"Newish something-or-other," she replied vaguely.
"Does this newish something-or-other have a name?" I pressed, driven more by her evasive manner than an all-encompassing curiousity.
That slightly tight smile that I always got when I pried - she was about to shut down again. But then she didn't, clearing her throat. "Debbie," she said.
I may have looked surprised for a split second, though again, this wasn't something I was unused to, being in the field that I'm in. "And so which not-date is this?" I asked, raising my eyebrows.
Apparently relieved there hadn't been some minor explosion (which disappointed me a little - I mean, who did she think I was?) she shrugged."Hard to say, really. We met shortly after I moved."
"Well, at least things are going better for you than they did for me. What's she like?"
"Nice," Alex said, in a somewhat defensive tone, although I recognised it well enough to know that it was no longer her revelation that was making her feel that way. "She's really nice. We have loads to talk about. And she's smart, and pretty." Ah. So it seemed Alex had a 'Mike' too. I wondered if Debbie knew it. Or if Alex did.
"She sounds lovely. What are you two up to tonight?"
"A late dinner at her place. I'm really okay for time," she added, "I didn't mean to make you feel rushed."
"Oh, don't worry about me. I've been abandoned before," I joked. "I know how to deal with it." I didn't really want Alex to leave - I was having a nice time - but I also didn't want her to resent me right after she had opened up to me.
"Yeah, no, it's really okay. I need to leave in..." - she checked her watch again - "...about half an hour, give or take. We're good." This last pronouncement was in a particularly decisive tone, and I got the impression that she wasn't just talking about the time.
"Well in that case, you can tell me what you thought of that article I forwarded you - anything you can incorporate into your protocol?"
I'll admit, I definitely felt a little lighter as I made my way out of the bar that evening to head over to Debbie's place. It wasn't that I'd expected Kathryn to react badly - or at all, necessarily. It really wasn't about her at all so much as my own mental divisions between work and home, private and public, and my neatly delineated life usually made that quite easy. My friendship with Kathryn messed with that delineation and mostly I was able to ignore that. This, I guess, was an exception.
Debbie greeted me warmly when I arrived at hers, taking my coat and ushering me into her small but cozy flat. "Dinner's almost ready - your timing is perfect," she said, grinning.
"Usually," I said with a returning smile, leaning to kiss her cheek. We had had a few chaste kisses now, but it still wasn't an evening opener. "This place is gorgeous, Deb," I said, looking around her open plan lounge and kitchen area.
"Thanks, I'm pretty fond of it myself. I know I sacrificed space for being able to live on my own, but it's so worth it." She had decorated sparsely, with just a few pictures on the wall and accent pillows on the chairs, but it looked nice. It was a little smaller than my place but much better decorated, with wallpaper in the kitchen and no creaky floorboards.
I took a seat on the couch where she gestured, while she pulled a bottle of wine out of the fridge and poured out two glasses. "Here we are," she said, crossing the room again to offer me one.
"Thanks," I replied, glad I'd been drinking only a little earlier that night if we were going to start on wine before dinner. "Something smells amazing," I murmured.
"Oh, just a little something I threw together," Debbie said with a shy smile, sitting down in the couch next to me. "I hope you're hungry."
"Starving," I said honestly, grinning and sipping at my drink.
"Well, good. How was work? Tell me about your day."
Relaxing back on the couch, I told Debbie all about my day - the usual form filling and administration that I could never seem to escape, wrestling with software, dodging back and forth between my office and the lab, the afternoon seminar that about half my students actually showed up to and even fewer spoke in. I actually enjoyed my job a lot, but some days were just a grind.
Debbie listened closely, nodding at all the right points and making sympathetic noises. She might've made the move to big business but she had spent plenty of time at university and knew how frustrating it could be.
"So anyway, what did you do today?"
"Oh, the usual... work, and then rushing home to clean up this place," she said with a smirk.
"I find it hard to believe you let this place get dirty," I said, narrowing my eyes a little, though my lips twitched into a smile. "You don't seem like the type for clutter."
"Hey, it gets messy! Sometimes I leave my socks on the floor for like, days."
"I don't believe it for a second."
Debbie made a face. "You think I'm some obsessive-compulsive neat freak, don't you?"
"No..." When she looked doubtful I shook my head emphatically. "I really don't. I like neat - I'm quite neat. Sometimes."
"Well, so am I. Sometimes."
Debbie was in a good mood tonight - perhaps it was because we were in her flat but she was more relaxed and confident than I think I'd ever seen her. She had made a delicious meal - chicken cacciatore - and over dinner we chatted about various things, including Lynn's newest disastrous relationship with one of our peripheral acquaintances.
"I just think... well, you know her better than me, of course," I said, "but it seems to me like she just jumps into these things when someone catches her eye, you know?"
"Yeah," Debbie agreed, leaning forward to top up our glasses, "but I kind of admire that, y'know? I mean, she has a lot of fun."
"And a lot of heartbreak."
"That too."
"Don't get me wrong," I found myself adding, "I get it - hell, I do it... well, used to, anyway. I totally get the exciting but crazy thing. But..." I made a face. "It never works."
"I guess that would be the downside. But as long as she's okay with that... or you're okay with that..." She gave me a sidelong glance.
My smile turned a little wry, and I shook my head. "It gets tired. I'm prepared to bet Lynn will get tired of it too, when she reaches our ripe old age."
"And until then, we'll be there with our withered shoulders for her to cry on when it all goes bad."
"Quite."
Debbie's cooking was as good as it smelled. I ate more than I should have - probably due in part to the wine I had had (as well as the whisky in the bar before). Afterwards I collapsed back onto the sofa and Debbie settled down next to me, her knee just brushing mine. "So, do you have to head home? Because we could put a film on..."
I hesitated. I was too drunk for this. Not watching a film, or chatting, but... this was It. I was in her home, we'd had a lovely homemade dinner, plenty of wine, and we were now sitting, legs touching, not-yet-coised-up on her couch. Tonight was the night when we either took things to 'the next level' (or a next level, at least) or called it a day. If I went home, it was over. And I wasn't sure that I was ready for either of those things. Still, it wasn't as though she hadn't given me plenty of time to make my mind up.
"What DVDs do you have?"
We ended up watching Bend It Like Beckham - a silly, lighthearted film that we had both seen before. We sat next to each other for some time before Debbie made her 'move', leaning over to put an arm around my shoulders midway through the movie.
I almost grinned, which would have seemed a little inappropriate, but usually I was the one doing the 'arm around the shoulders' maneuver. As it was this was actually a nice change, and I relaxed against her, resting my head on her shoulder. We sat like that until the credits rolled. Then it was time.
Debbie shifted, just slightly, pulling back far enough to tip her head to face me, and this time when I lifted my chin and kissed her it wasn't a chaste peck - I moved my hand to cup her jaw, pulling her closer and touching my lips to hers slowly, opening my mouth just a little. She slid her free hand around my waist, closing her eyes as she returned the kiss. I'll admit I didn't feel any fireworks, but she smelled nice and was a good kisser, using the right pressure and just a hint of tongue.
This wasn't the way I usually did things. Usually my first really intimate encounter with a woman would be spontaneous, passionate, often the first time we met. Sometimes they led somewhere, sometimes not - I was always open to just 'seeing where things led' - it's pretty much been my watchword in life.
But as I leant in, bearing Debbie back a little on the couch, freeing up my other hand to slip it beneath her top to rest against the smooth bare skin just above her waistline, I found myself thinking that if this was the way I should be doing things now - the grown-up way, where you date for a while, get to know one another, and then the rest... well, it didn't seem as bad as all that.
I left some time later - not that I would've had to, as I'm sure Debbie would've invited me to stay if I had angled for it. I didn't want to, though. Not because she wasn't attractive and I wasn't enjoying our new level of intimacy, but I figured this whole 'grown-up' thing probably frowned on jumping into bed immediately after your first make-out session. So, feeling like a responsible adult I kissed her good-bye (a real kiss this time) and headed out to find a taxi home.
It was only really now, sitting in the back of the cab on my way back across town, that I had time to think about Kathryn's reaction - or lack of reaction, I suppose - to my 'coming out' to her.
She had seemed interested in my private life for a while now, and as she didn't strike me as an incredibly nosy person I guessed it must've been because of our friendship and the fact that she had opened up to me so much. She just wanted reciprocation, not juicy gossip, and indeed when I had finally told her about Debbie her questions had all been about her, not the usual things I've come to expect from a certain sort of straight person.
I mused that I would probably find out more about what Kathryn felt one way or the other about this new information the next time we went sailing, which was this weekend, in fact. I suppose the only niggling little worry I had was that, now that she knew about my 'proclivities', she'd be more likely to notice any interest I had in other women. Which of course wouldn't be a problem but for the fact that I was becoming more than a little bit attracted to her.
I reassured myself that I was probably safe - people never saw what they weren't expecting, and even if Kathryn knew I was gay she was still my boss. Still, I resolved to be careful.
My resolution would have been fine, except for one thing: the surprisingly fine, sunny weather that weekend that meant Kathryn spent most of her time on the wayfarer in little more than a vest, shorts, and boat shoes.
[[NOTE FOR EDIT: TWEAK WHOLE STORY SO THAT ABOUT SIX MONTHS HAVE PASSED BY THIS POINT]]
It was only out third trip out since the 'season' had begun and the last two had been distinctly uncomfortable - barely any warmer than when we'd stopped in November, and wet to boot - but this was one of those rare March days where the stiff wind was offset with clear skies and an incredibly warm sun. Still, I wasn't as tough as Katherine, still in a light fleece and combats. To look at Kathryn you'd have thought that summer had come early.
We had gotten pretty good at working together by now, each of us knowing out roles and coordinating with only a word or a look. Skimming along on a brisk breeze, Kathryn shifted her weight to lean out over the water, revelling in the feel of the sun on her bare skin and shooting me a wide grin - one far too infectious not to return although I'm sure it made me look like a grinning fool.
Back toward the end of the season last year we'd been going out in a trio, taking one of the on-site instructors with us, partly to help me get back up to speed but partly because the weather at that time of year made going out just two to a boat a little inadvisable. Now, though, it was just the two of us, and the sense of independence coupled with the privacy of this made our trips all the more enjoyable.
I knew Kathryn had been stressed lately - not all of her projects were running smoothly, and just yesterday she had spent most of the day in a foul mood that no one could explain, though they were all too busy avoiding her to even try. I had been worried that she might try and cancel our plans, but she had arrived bright and early that morning in a seemingly much improved mood, and had shown no inclination towards sulking all day.
Mind you, we were friends, and while I wouldn't ask her what was wrong at work (making me part of the problem) it seemed as though now would be a time when it was only compassionate to do so.
"So, er, how have things been?" I asked when we hit a nice smooth patch, raising my voice a little over the sound of the waves and the wind in our sail.
"Oh, you know... Things could be better in the lab," she replied, grimacing.
I shot her a sympathetic look. "Anything I can do?" I was already pretty much run off my feet but I knew I wasn't pulling as long hours as Kathryn.
She shook her head and then opened her mouth to speak, shutting it abruptly and then frowning to herself. Though the wind was strong I could almost hear her sigh to herself. Eventually she spoke. "Keith is coming back."
Ah. "That's... Well, good and bad, I suppose?" I hazarded, tipping my head to get a proper view of her expression.
It was difficult to read. "He wants to take over his old projects. Just like that. After dumping them in my lap."
I nodded, frowning a little. Then something occurred to me. "Wait, including the Summit?" The [University] Climate Change Summit had been conceived by Keith just before he'd left, but had since been taken on by Kathryn, with a little help from myself, and pretty much reinvented from the ground up. He'd originally conceived it as a first year project for undergrad geosciences students, but we'd managed to secure some external funding and had turned it into a cross-educational conference of sorts for fifteen to twenty year olds, with the university age students running workshops and presentations for the secondary school kids. My first year seminar group were already well into preparation for it and were pretty fired up about it.
"I don't know," she said, shaking her head. "Quite possibly."
"But that's..." I trailed off. Me going into a rage was hardly going to help matters, was it? Then a thought struck me. "Wait, if Keith's coming back, is Keira..." And if she was, did I still have a job?
"Keira quit. And I'm sure as hell not re-hiring her, especially not when I've got a better person on the job already."
"Right. Right." I felt bad now, for even thinking about my own comfort when Kathryn was the one who's recently ex husband was returning from halfway across the world with his new partner in tow. "Oh, you'll be looking forward to seeing Jonas again, though, right?" I said, my tone brightening a little. Kathryn talked to and occasionally even skyped with her son quite regularly, but I knew she'd been missing him.
"Yes," she said, raising her voice to be heard as the wind picked up. The small craft began to skitter forward and for a minute we worked in silence to get it back under control. Eventually we re-established the proper course and Kathryn spoke again. "It'll be good to have him back. And I'm sure everything else will work out. I'll make sure the Summit goes ahead as planned - we've put too much work into it to just hand it over now."
I nodded. "Are you worried about working with him now?" I asked after a short pause, a moment later kicking myself for asking such an obvious and probably unwanted question.
"Keith and I always worked well together. I see no reason for that to be any different now." Her words were firm, but even over the sound of the wind and the waves I could her the faint tremor of nerves in her voice. I doubt most people would have noticed, but I had gotten good at reading her over the past X months.
"Well, you can always make him come to me for everything," I said in what I hoped was a helpful tone. Then I remembered Keira. "I mean- I didn't mean-..." I broke off, lost for words now. "You know what I-"
I was interrupted by a whoop of laughter. "Oh God, Alex! It's okay, you can take your foot out of your mouth now."
I managed to laugh, now, a little of my discomfort dissipating, although I knew I still had an extra blush on top of the healthy glow from the sea air. "Sorry. I'm kind of an idiot."
"It's okay. You're a very cute, endearing idiot," Kathryn told me with a grin.
Something that had up until that moment been fluttering happily inside my stomach suddenly slid lower, and I fought the urge to squirm. "I... um..."
"The wind's picking up - time to reduce sail!"
"So you never told me how your date the other night went," I found myself asking, breaking the silence that had fallen as we settled into the small, quiet space of my car. "Have you decided whether you're dating yet?"
I heard rather than saw Alex's hesitation. "Um... yeah," she said eventually. "I think we are. Now." Whether she intended it or not, her words were heavy with implication.
"Ah." I let a few seconds tick by, maybe a few too many, before speaking up again. "Well. Congratulations are in order, I suppose."
"Well, I wouldn't... I mean, thanks," Alex said. I was unsurprised to hear little in the way of the giggling enthusiasm one would expect from someone enjoying the first blush of romance.
Alex wasn't the most emotional of people - well, that wasn't entirely true. She could certainly get passionate when discussing projects for the students, or when we were deep in conversation about politics over drinks. She just never seemed to demonstrate any strong emotions about her relationships, at least, not that I had seen. It seemed a bit incongruous, but I knew plenty of scientists who were over-analytical when it came to matters of the heart. It didn't really track, though, with her previous assertion that her tastes ran to wild, artistic types. Perhaps this latest relationship was her 'growing up' and changing her ways. I wondered idly what the 'old' Alex, this fictional character who was slowly growing in my mind, would be like in a relationship. I wondered whether she put the same passion into her romance that she did into her work, and I must have been having a private smile to myself at the road ahead of me, because after a while Alex spoke.
"You've cheered up," she said. Then, more curiously, "Penny for them. Or, I don't know, whatever that is adjusted for inflation?"
"Hah," I replied, glancing over at her briefly. "Must be a couple pounds at least by now. I was just... thinking of how nice it must be, going through the first stages of a relationship, experiencing all those feelings..."
"Mm, must be. I mean, sure, yeah."
"Or maybe you're past all that now? I mean, it's been what, months..."
"Wee-ell..." Alex hummed. "We've been taking it pretty slowly."
I'll say. I don't think I could've waited six months before reaching a point where I could finally say I was dating someone - not that I'd jump into bed with just anyone, but I'd certainly have called it quits before then. "Well. Whatever works for you, I guess. I'm glad you're happy." And I was. Alex deserved it.
"Mm, so..." I pulled back a little to gaze down at Debbie. "Do you want to..."
"Oh, well, that would..." She bit her lip, looking up at me uncertainly. "Sure?"
"I mean, we don't have to," I added, "I'm sorry, I don't want to if you're not ready...." Aaand the moment was slipping away.
"No, no, I am... I am. Are you?"
I smiled a little, leaning to kiss Debbie again. When I pulled back her eyes were still open, and I was struck not for the first time by how blue they were. Almost as blue as-
I sat up on the couch, pulling Debbie with me. "Let's go to bed."
"...so then he says: 'Why don't we just skip dessert and go straight to bed?' My God. are there any decent men in this city?"
Mike chuckled, shaking his head. "I thought you'd stopped doing the online dating thing. What made you start again?"
"I don't know," I said, frowning. I was already two drinks in and given the turn of the conversation, ready for another. "Maybe the fact that Keith is about to show up again with Keira in tow, and here I am, just as single and lonely as when they left."
My drinking companion raised his eyebrows skeptically. "Really? What happened to 'I'm happy alone for now'?"
"I can't have a relapse? I think I'm entitled, especially when I'm punished for it with horrific dates like this one."
"All right, okay, okay..." Mike held up his hands in mock-defense. "You can have all the disastrous dates you like," he said, "and I shall enjoy living vicariously through them. I do love me some schadenfreude."
"Mm. You really ought to give it another try, you know. If only because I'm tired of hearing of Alex and her completely mundane, boring love life," I said, rolling my eyes.
"Oh yes?" Mike's eyes narrowed a little in thought. "But she's just a young thing, isn't she? And you said she was attractive. Shouldn't she be rolling around in bed with multiple beautiful women every night?"
I generally let Mike's occasional little flights of fancy regarding Alex (since he'd learned she was a lesbian) go, but something about this particular meandering irked me. "She can do what she likes," I said, more sharply than I had intended. "It's none of my business. Or yours."
Mike blinked, taken aback. "I'm... sorry," he said eventually. "You're right. That was disrespectful."
Well, now I felt doubly bad - not just for complaining about Alex's relationship, which was entirely her right, whether I felt it was boring or not, and none of my business to boot, but also for snapping at Mike, who didn't deserve the brunt of my ire. "It's fine," I sighed, shaking my head and draining the last of my drink. "I guess I'm just not the best company right now. You'd be excused for telling me to stuff it and running away."
"Hey..." He frowned and shook his head. "You've listened to my tales of woe. This is what I'm here for. You rant and rave all you like."
"Thanks," I said, still feeling a little guilty. "At least let me get the next round."
"That I'll allow."
I wasn't surprised to find that Debbie was as quiet and understated in bed as she was everywhere else. She left one in no doubt regarding what worked for her if one paid attention, however, and I always do.
If good sex was sex where both people got off on each other's mutual attentions, then we had good sex. It wasn't mind-blowing or any of those other adjectives people like to apply to first-time sex, but I was okay with that.
Debbie seemed satisfied also, cuddling close to me contentedly as our heart rates and breathing returned to normal, nuzzling her head against the crook of my neck, fingers still trailing little patterns across my back. I found myself wondering about staying the night - I hadn't brought anything with me, but it would certainly seem rude to excuse myself now. Resigning myself to unbrushed teeth and an uncomfortable journey home in day-old clothes I snuggled close, closing my eyes.
I'd be lying if I didn't admit, though, that the last thought that passed through my mind that night, the last mental image, wasn't one of Debbie. And that was a little unsettling.
The day Keith was due back in the lab tensions were definitely high. I was trying my hardest to appear nonchalant, but it seemed like no one else was taking cues from me. Sarah bustled about, tidying things and generally getting in the way, and eventually I retreated to my office and shut the door in order to get some work done.
It was about an hour before anyone disturbed me, but eventually there was a quiet knock at the door.
"Come in," I called distractedly, having by now gotten stuck into a particularly tricky passage on one of the papers I was editing. The door opened and I glanced up to see Keith standing there, looking very tanned and slightly nervous. "Oh, it's you," I said, raising my eyebrows. "Aiming for a late start, I see."
He grinned, showing that his time in Chile obviously hadn't done any damage to his expensively straightened and capped teeth. "Thought I'd give the department plenty of time to prepare for my arrival," he joked weakly.
"Just enough to work themselves into a tizzy. I doubt anyone will get anything useful done all day."
"Apart from you, of course, the ever unflappable," Keith said, folding his arms and leaning against my doorframe. "You look great," he added. "I like the hair."
Of course - he had been gone by the time I had cut my past-shoulder-length waves into something shorter and more manageable. "Thank you," I told him. I knew I should probably return the compliment but wasn't feeling too inspired right then. I finally settled on "So, we'll need to set up a meeting to discuss turnover and re-allocation of projects. I'm free on Wednesday after lunch, if you are."
"Absolutely - I'll let Keira know," he said.
At first I was sure I had misheard him. "...Excuse me?"
"She'll..." Keith's eyes narrowed slightly. "No one's told you, have they? We had a funding window - I've taken her on as my assistant."
'We've had a funding window'. That was just like Keith - he had probably ferreted out some money from somewhere and instead of offering it up to the department as a whole taken it for himself and his 'assistant'. "You're not serious, Keith. With all we have on our plate right now you've allocated that money to hiring yourself an assistant? Do you know how many places I could think of spending a year's wage?"
But Keith was already shaking his head. "It's not even a year's wage, hon - just enough for a six month grade five contract - she'll be taking a pay cut. And it's precisely because we have all this stuff on our plate - K just wants to help us dig out of the mess I left you in." He tipped his head to the side, his deep brown eyes contributing toward his very best 'puppy dog' look. "I'm trying to make it up to you for my leaving - I thought you'd be pleased."
You could have made it up to me by not coming back, I thought sourly, fighting to keep my expression from showing what was running through my mind. "Fine. We'll discuss the rest on Wednesday. Have your notes to me by tomorrow so I have time to go over them."
"Um, sure, I'll do my best," Keith said in that non-committal tone that he liked to use when he had no intention of doing anything of the sort.
"Mm. Alright. Oh, one more thing - will Jonas be ready to be picked up at six?"
"Jonas? Oh, he's round at thingy's place, catching up - by which I assume he means playing video games or watching hyperviolent films. I don't know what his plans were for the night - did you have something in mind?"
"I was going to take him out to dinner - we discussed this, Keith," I said, losing the fight against annoyance and rolling my eyes at him.
"Oh. Right. Yes. I'll talk to him," Keith said vaguely, characteristically unphased by my irritation. "I'll let you know, I'm sure that's fine."
I sighed. "Just tell me when you've talked to him. You've been away for over six months, Keith - I'd like to see my son."
"Right, yes, sorry," he said, finally looking a little chastened. He hesitated, then added, "He missed you."
"I missed him too." In truth, I still hadn't completely adjusted to living on my own; I still expected to see dirty trainers scattered about the entrance hall or luridly-coloured science fiction novels stacked on the dining room table. It wasn't like I wasn't going to have yet more time to adjust, however - Jonas had decided he wanted to live with Keith, a decision I would respect even as it saddened me. "But he sounded like he had a good time. I'm glad."
"He'll be glad to get back to school and home, whatever he thinks now," Keith said, in a tone that suggested that Jonas was not necessarily looking forward to a return to routine.
"I'm sure." Glancing at the clock, I realized I was going to be late for my afternoon class. "I've got to go to class," I told Keith, gathering up my things. "Let Sarah know if you need anything and don't forget to get me those notes, all right?"
Keith straightened, now, unfolding his arms to slip his hands into his pockets and shooting me another of those oh-so-charming smiles. "All right. I've missed you too, you know," he said.
This stopped me momentarily, though I soon shook it off, closing my diary and slipping it into my bag. "I've got to go. We'll catch up more later."
I knew that Keith was returning to the department today. I hadn't, however, expected to see Keira Ford. I recognised her immediately from the photos on the website and bulletin boards, and she looked just the same - all long blonde hair and legs. It was hard to shake off the stereotypes and remember that she was also a very successful and highly intelligent academic in her own right.
She looked a little lost right now, however, standing in front of what was now my office, a box of journals and papers in her arms.
"Um... hello?" I said, shooting her what I hoped was a friendly smile.
"Oh, hi," she said, grinning nervously. "I, um, seem to be a little lost. This used to be my office but I guess it's not anymore."
"Right. Wait, are you... going to be working here?" Okay, now I was confused.
"Yes, I'm Dr Sinclair's assistant. Um, Keira Ford," she said, shifting the box awkwardly to offer me a hand.
I reached automatically to shake it. "Er, hello. I'm Alex Webb. I'm... well, I'm Professor Sinclair's assistant," I said, hoping it was clear that my emphasis was meant to make the distinction rather than rub it in her face that my 'boss' outranked hers - although Keith Sinclair being her boss seemed a little nepotistic at best.
"It's nice to meet you. I guess that would explain you having the office," she replied with a slightly forced laugh. "I know it was silly, just showing up like this - I guess I was sort of on autopilot."
I nodded slowly. "I'd, um, invite you to share, but..."
"Oh, no," Ford said with a nervous laugh. "That's okay. I'm sure there's another workspace available."
"Right. So... you're returning to work in the department, then?"
"Um, yes. Just for six months or so, to help Dr Sinclair with all his projects. It's going to be a busy time."
The Summit loomed in the back of my mind, and I again felt guilty for being so preoccupied by losing our project when Kathryn had so many other stresses to worry about. "I see. Well, welcome back."
"Thanks. I guess I'll... go see Sarah and find out where I'll be staying."
"I'll see you around, no doubt."
The blonde gave me another uncertain smile, hefting her box. "No doubt."
It was the afternoon before I managed to get along to Kathryn's office, and now, knocking on her closed door, I wasn't even sure why was there, or what I was going to say.
"Come in..." By the time I had pushed open the door Kathryn was looking up expectantly. She gave me a smile, sitting back in her chair. "Alex. Finally, someone I'm glad to see."
I hoped my smile wasn't too obviously relieved, and I took the liberty of entering and closing the door behind me. "How're you holding up?" I asked, moving across the room to sit down.
"Hm? Oh, fine. Is everything okay out there?"
"Yeah, you know, people are still running around like headless chickens but I think they've figured out that it's not actually the apocalypse. Yet."
She nodded, pursing her lips in what I knew was an expression of annoyance. "Good. Because we're just going to lose more time and money until everybody gets back to normal."
I made a face. "I'm sure it'll work out fine. I..." I cleared my throat. "I saw Keira Ford earlier. I didn't know she was rejoining the department..."
"As Keith's assistant."
"Um. Yeah." I narrowed my eyes a little at Kathryn, trying to make out her expression.
She looked distracted, only glancing back at me after several seconds of gazing towards the door. "I'm fine, Alex. I've had months to adjust to this and besides, I'm an adult. I can deal with a little intra-office 'weirdness'."
"All right," I said, nodding, "sure. Sorry."
"Are you okay? I know this must be strange for you."
I smiled a little. "A little. Mostly I'm worried about you. I mean, well..." I found myself trailing off - that somehow hadn't come out quite right.
Kathryn's expression turned softer, and she smiled slightly, leaning forward in her chair. "It might have been more difficult a few months ago... but it helps, having a friend close. I know it's going to be odd while things adjust, but... I just want what's best for the lab."
I felt that tingle at the tips of my ears again. It helped that I was around... it was hard not to read... what?... into that. I internally cursed myself that I couldn't keep a friendship with my boss of all people simple in my head. "Well. Okay, good. I mean, me too."
"Of course you do," Kathryn said, giving me a somewhat strange look.
"Well." I smiled again, sure that my cheeks at the least were now a little too pink for my liking. "On that note, I have some analysis to do, so I guess I'd better..." I made to stand up.
"Mmhmm, of course. Oh, before you go - Wednesday, after lunch. Can you make a meeting?"
"Sure, email me a diary entry?"
"Of course. Thank you, Alex."
I stopped at the door, turning to smile at her again and shrug. "For doing my job?"
"For being here," she said with a fond smile. "And for doing your job. Well."
My pulse was still skipping a little as I reached my office, my breath coming out in a big sigh once the door had closed safely behind me. This whole 'crush on the boss' thing was becoming a little less fun and a little more distracting.
Jonas must've grown half a foot - although the way he was slumping it could've been more. He'd apparently been allowed by his father to dye his light brown hair black and it was frankly a mystery to me how his trousers were staying up, so low-slung and hung with chains were they. His characteristic thirteen-year-old too-cool facade dropped completely as he saw me, though, and I was awarded with a broad grin and a tight hug as we reached one another mid-driveway that actually made me tear up a bit.
"Hey, you," I murmured, hugging back just a little longer than he probably wanted me to before letting go. "What is this?" I added, reaching to rumple his hair. "Hm?"
"Pretty sure it's hair," he said in his 'duh' voice as he pulled back, readjusting the overnight rucksack he had hanging off one shoulder.
"Ah, of course," I replied with a smirk. "Have you thought about where you'd like to go to eat? Anywhere you like."
I got a shrug in response. "Don't care," he replied.
"Okay, well, let's go see what we can find, mm?"
We eventually settled on a nice bistro near the centre of town where I could get a good risotto and Jonas could get the 'proper burger and chips' he'd apparently been craving for months.I knew better than to expect any conversation when the food had arrived, so I made the most of the wait by immediately asking the questions (well, some of them) that I had been dying to ask. "So, tell me more about your trip. What was the most exciting thing you did?"
"Umm..." At first Jonas shrugged, and I worried that my son really had been completely replaced by a recalcitrant replicant only capable of monosyllabic grunts (something I'd been warned would happen by several friends and colleagues). It seemed, though, that no amount of hormones could completely replace my progeny, and though it was hard to discern there was a definite note of excitement to his voice as he answered.
"I think either the time when we went white water rafting down the Patagoania River in the Futaleufu Valley, or maybe when dad had to pass a bribe to get us past a border control with some samples dad says we probably weren't meant to have. The guy had a huge semi-automatic."
I nodded; far from admonishing him about the latter situation I had to admit it was something that was far too common - and I knew Keith would have done everything he could to keep Jonas safe. "And did you make it to the Villarrica Volcano in the end?"
"Yeah, we got there - it was pretty awesome. I'll have to show you all my photographs when we get to your place." To 'make up' for having failed to arrange for me to see Jonas as I'd asked to, Keith had gone a step further and 'arranged' for him to stay overnight. Of course this had entailed a lot of mad rushing around arranging bedlinen and clearing space in my second bedroom (which had until then been a study-cum-general-storage sort of room) but I wasn't about to pass up the opportunity to have Jonas stay.
"Definitely. And you kept your travel journal up-to-date?" Our only requirement of Jonas when he came with us on trips was that he keep a journal of everything he saw and did - it had originally been my idea, as I wanted him to be able to remember the places he had been in his own words, not just through what we told him. It had started out a large notebook full of his childish scrawl and incredibly detailed pictures; now he had graduated to keeping most of it on his computer, complete with digital pictures and other media.
I got an eyeroll for my trouble, but he nodded. "Yep. There's some handwritten stuff from up the mountain that I haven't scanned in yet, but other than that I'm all good."
I grinned at him, just happy to be on the same continent, much less in the same room. "Great. I'm sure all your blog fans will be thrilled."
"Yeah, whatever."
My suspicions had been correct - once food arrived there was very little talking but a lot of enthusiastic chewing. Not that I minded, and indeed my son had better table manners than some of the men I had gone out with over the past six months. Once we finished we headed back to my flat, as I wanted to give Jonas plenty of time to settle in.
I hadn't yet found my long-term accommodation when Keith had left, so Jonas had never seen my new home, and so I was a little nervous as to what he woud think - not that he would be cruel if he didn't like it, but I wanted it to be somewhere he felt comfortable and at home. As it turned out, I needn't have worried.
"I like the stone," he said, nodding toward the exposed stonework wall before trotting over to the couch and flopping down on it. I took this to mean he loved the place.
"I got some DVDs," I told him, gesturing towards the hardwood entertainment center. "And there's satellite as well. I've got to do some work to get ready for my meeting tomorrow, but I'll be right here if you need anything." I had set up my laptop at the dining room table, wanting to be near to Jonas even as I did my work.
"Can I check my email?"
"Hm? Oh, of course, sweetheart. You can use my computer if you didn't bring yours."
"I've got mine - where's your network key?"
The rest of the evening passed uneventfully enough - Jonas complained that I didn't have any good snacks in the flat, but beyond that seemed happy enough to be there. I took a break so that he could show me his pictures from the trip and we spent a good hour watching the slideshow on the flatscreen television. I will admit a certain feeling - annoyance? jealousy? - seeing pictures of Keith and Keira together in front of towering mountains and rushing rivers, but I tried not to let on, not wanting to make my son feel uncomfortable about something that was patently not his fault.
Perhaps he picked up on it, though, because he seemed to put any freshly-teenaged attitude on hold for the evening and was as sweet natured as I'd ever seen him, even getting up to fetch me glasses of water and 'rabbit food' (as he called my chosen snackfood of carrot and celery sticks with hoummus.
Eventually we wrapped up; I had to get back to work, and Jonas had to get to bed. He went willingly enough, and I'll admit, I did the typical 'mum' thing of sneaking into his room later to watch him sleeping like a baby in the sofa bed I had made up for him earlier.
I was surprised on returning to my little study to find that I'd receieved a text message - not something I get very often - from Alex of all people.
Smiling, I pulled out my chair and sat down at my laptop. It took me several minutes to type out a reply, but eventually I had one ready to send back.
It was another few minutes before I got a response.
This didn't surprise me, really, but I still felt a momentary twist on reading it - was everybody coupled up except me?
I frowned at the text message - was it my imagination that it was a little... abrupt? Pushing the thought aside, I texted back a goodnight and turned back to my girlfriend. Debbie looked up from her knitting, giving me a smile. "What's up?"
I thought about telling her - I mean, she knew that Kathryn and I were friends, that we went sailing and had dinner now and then, so there was really nothing strange about me being slightly put out by a short text message. But something made me smile and shake my head and dismiss the moment as, "Nothing, sweetheart. How're you getting on?"
"Good, good... nearly done with this," she said, grinning. "You'll have a proper pair of woolen socks in no time."
"Just in time for summer," I said with a slight smirk.
"Hey, a good pair of woollies never goes amiss! Besides, it'll be cold again soon enough..."
"God, tell me about it," I said with a roll of my eyes, putting my phone down by the couch and shifting to snuggle up against Debbie, who had to rearrange herself a little to still have elbow room to knit but nonetheless turned to plant a kiss on my forehead. "Still, plenty of sailing days before then."
"True," Debbie said, nodding. "When are you going out next, by the way? I thought I might try and see if Lynn's free for hanging out while you're busy."
"Dunno - we were meant to go this weekend but I'm not sure we still will now that Keith and Jonas are back. Kathryn may either have work to do or something with Jonas."
"Ah. Well, let me know, yeah?"
"Mm, completely. You know," I added, reaching to play with the hem of her shirt, "you can always see Lynn anyway if you want to, sweetheart - you don't always have to keep yourself free for me."
"Oh, I know. It's just that the weekends are really the only days we have together so I like to see you when I can."
"Mm." I hummed my agreement and turned a little, craning my neck to kiss Debbie lightly on the cheek.
She smiled again and turned to peck me on the lips before settling back against the sofa. "So, do you want to pop on another film, or see what's on the telly?"
"Well, I do see what you're saying, Kathryn, but do we really need to go that far?"
"That far? Keith, would you listen to yourself? There is far too much demand here for us not to do it!"
Keith was making his 'patient' face and I already wanted to thump him. "But we're not a secondary education establishment. I appreciate that it's a lovely idea, but is it really in our interests to funnel our funding into another sector?"
"This isn't another sector, it's education! Can't you understand the fact that if we engage students when they're younger there's a very distinct possibility they may want to come work with us when they're older? We have to reach out - there's no use in being mysterious and insular," I said between gritted teeth.
"Which if we had the time and the funding, we could absolutely see our way to doing. But as it is..."
"Time is not the issue - now that you're back we have twice as many hands working on these projects. And the funding is already in place, unless you went behind my back to requisition that too." Okay, maybe that had been a low shot, but I was still annoyed.
"Hey, now, Kathryn, is that really necessary?" Keith said, glancing sidelong at his new 'assistant'.
I ignored the comment and the blonde woman, instead motioning towards Alex, who was sitting looking distinctly uncomfortable in the chair next to mine. "We've already put the man-hours into making this happen. To pull out now would be not only disappointing all the students we've involved but giving the lab a reputation of indecisiveness and unreliability. Is that what you want?"
Eventually Keith seemed to realise that he wasn't going to get anywhere on his current track, and he decided to shift gear. "All right, then," he said in a conciliatory tone that didn't fool me even slightly. "Leave it with me, and I'll get right onto familiarising myself with the programme as it stands now."
"No. This is Alex's project now. If you want to participate you'll have to go through her." I felt something brush against my knee and I realised that it was Alex's leg - she'd tensed up in her sudden nerves and apparently hadn't noticed.
Keith didn't either, rolling his eyes. "'Participate'? This was one of my initiatives, K-...ath. Ryn."
"One that you dropped in my lap the day you decided to go off on sabbatical," I said, standing my ground. "If it had meant so much to you you wouldn't have left it like you did. So I'm sorry, but you're just going to have to accept it, Keith."
"Well." I was still a little excited even after Keith and Keira had left, my muscles still tense, my pulse still going just a little faster than normal. "That was... productive." It wasn't as though the meeting itself had been particularly dramatic - indeed, it was mostly just logistic wrangling - but the sight of Kathryn getting angry and just putting her foot down - on my behalf at that - had left my heart fluttering in the manner of a Victorian attack of the vapours.
"Mm." Kathryn was still shuffling through various papers and notes, clipping them together, pausing to re-read a notation and scribble something down beside it. Eventually she looked up. "Yes, I feel we accomplished most of what was on the agenda."
"I, um. I know it wasn't the reason you did it but I really appreciate that you kept me on the Summit project," I said then, though I was starting to get the feeling that now was perhaps not the best time for an outpouring of gratitude.
"You know what wasn't the reason?" she asked, frowning slightly. Her hands stilled on the papers.
"Oh. Sorry, yes, I mean that I know it wasn't just for my benefit - I mean, there were plenty of other reasons to-"
"I kept you on the project because you're the best person for it," Kathryn said, her tone still stretched somewhat thinner than normal. "You put in the time to get it where it is, and it would be idiotic to change organizers now. That's why I kept you on."
"I..." knew that? Stop digging. "Right. Yes. Thank you." I almost stumbled getting to my feet, feeling myself begin to flush in my embarrassment and still trying to shake the weird idea that I had somehow done something in the last twenty four hours to annoy Kathryn, despite the patently obvious fact that her mood was almost certainly entirely down to other factors. "Well, I should probably get back to work..."
Not hearing agreement from my companion I glanced down at her, only to find her staring up at me with a strange expression on her face. She blinked, then swallowed, nodding eventually. "Yes. I suppose we both better had." There was another long pause. Then, "Alex?"
Why was my pulse skipping again? This crush was becoming less fun by the minute. "Yes?"
"I'm sorry about all of this. The back-and-forth. It'll settle down soon, I promise."
"Oh." Well, what had I been expecting? "It's really okay," I said. "'Honestly. Um. I don't know if it's the best time, but I wanted to check. This weekend - are we still..."
"Yes." Kathryn nodded again. "Absolutely."
I was under absolutely no control of the smile that spread across my face in response to this. "Great. I wasn't sure if you... well, that's great. Okay. Anyway, I'd better..." I gestured vaguely toward the door.
"Mmhmm. I'll see you later, Alex."
"See you."
"So did you and Lynn make plans in the end?" I asked as I pulled on my usual combats in the dim light of Debbie's bedroom.
"Mm... I think we might be getting a cuppa later," she replied, her face still half-buried in her pillow. "Though she might flake on me."
"Always a possibility with Lynn," I said with a grin, pulling my top over my head before leaning to give Debbie a quick kiss goodbye. "See you later, gorgeous."
"B'bye... Have fun.. Don't drown."
"Wouldn't dream of it."
As was usual with our sailing days, Kathryn and I didn't speak much about anything of import on our way to the marina or on the boat itself, but today Kathryn was, perhaps not unexpectedly, a little quieter than usual (ever before, actually), and we weren't even having our usual chats about the weather and so on. Self-centeredly I still worried that I'd done something to annoy her, but I tried to shake the sensation, again reminding myself that she had plenty of other things to worry about.
Still, the weather was lovely and the sailing good, and we passed the morning congenially enough. For lunch we pulled into a small protected harbor, eating our packed lunches (ham sandwich for me, a falafel pita for Kathryn) on our knees.
"So we didn't really get a chance to chat again during the week," I began hesitantly. "How're you getting on?" I had been a little surprised, actually, possibly even slightly hurt, that Kathryn hadn't even wanted to grab a quick drink after work one evening to bend my ear about the no doubt numerous things on her mind. I wondered whether perhaps she'd been having a lot of quality time with her son.
"Oh, you know... Fine, really. It seems like there's more work right now instead of less, but I'm sure that will settle down soon," she replied pragmatically.
I tipped my head to the side, raising my eyebrows a little. "I more meant how you are. Not how work is."
Looking surprised, Kathryn hesitated before responding. "I'm fine. Really," she added before I could protest. "Things are odd but I'm managing just fine. It's not like I didn't have time to prepare for this."
"All right," I said. Then, "Good. I... was surprised that Keira rejoined the department," I tried. That was after all the surprise that Kathryn had no time to prepare for.
"Yes. Well. Some people have more than their fair share of cheek," came the wry response accompanied with a smirk.
"I guess I'm in no position to criticise that," I said, remembering with a smile of my own our first drink together, where I'd challenged Kathryn's lack of involvement in my appoinment.
This drew a laugh out of Kathryn, something I was relieved to hear, especially as I was the cause of it. "I suppose not. To be honest, I can't really blame him - she's a very good analyst."
"Better than me?" I teased with a raise of my eyebrows.
"You know, now that you mention it..."
Relief flooding through me that our mood seemed to be returning to normal somewhat, I put on my very best 'indignant' face. "Oh yes? Well, maybe we should swap - I could work for Keith, and-"
"Hah, and tempt him with another cute young thing? I dont think so!" she declared. "You're mine."
I fought against the flutter in my stomach at these words, and managed to return the requisite amused grin. "He's not really my type anyway," I quipped.
"Too much stubble?"
"Something like that."
"I thought so." Kathryn smiled and crumpled up the hemp bag she had brought her lunch in, stuffing it into one of the small cubbies under the side bench. "Ready to head back out?"
"Whenever you are."
Alex was still a little quiet that afternoon, but she was looking a lot more relaxed than she had all morning, when she had been a little nervy and distractable in much the way she had been when she'd first started work at the department. I couldn't really blame her; things at the lab had gone through a pretty big shake-up and as a newcomer she probably felt it the worst. It was good to see after a little joking and reassurance that she seemed to get over it, at least somewhat.
Anyway, as the wind picked up after lunch and grew a little gusty, we had other worries. Generally speaking we had had pretty good luck on the water so far - or at least on the boat we usually hired. Today, though, for some reason, our usual dinghy, the Aurora, had been booked out, and the replacement was... a little temperamental.
I wasn't too nervous, but it did take more attention than normal to keep her going where we wanted, and I could tell that Alex wasn't as comfortable as she had been in our previous trips. I tried to shoot her a reassuring grin every time I saw her knuckles go white on the lines, and a few times I was rewarded with a small but genuine smile back. It was a nice sight.
It wasn't until we were nearly back into harbour, though, that anything happened. As we had moored back at the bhoy and were disembarking to the little dubber dinghy we'd left waiting for us, a sudden gust sent the wayfarer pitching sideways a just as Alex was stepping off. Still on the boat, I was watching and managed to dart forward, my arm shooting out to circle her waist as my free hand grabbed at the nearest anchor point, which was the boom - it swung round and I found myself dipping down but I managed to support her weight against me.
Alex herself gasped, one of her legs buckling underneath her as she stumbled back onto the boat. "Careful," I said stupidly, my heart hammering in my ears as I pulled her closer, her back against my front. "Are you okay?"
"I... think so." She found the railing with one hand, the other coming to grip my wrist for support where my arm wrapped around her as if to make sure I wouldn't let go, and I felt her pull in a deep breath, and then the slight vibration of that laugh that bubbles up with the relief of a narrow escape. "Thought I was going in there," she said.
"Not exactly the time of year you want to be going for a dip," I murmured.
"Nope... let's... give that another go, shall we?" I could hear the smile in Alex's voice even with her back still to me, and I thought everything must be fine, but as I released my hand and she moved to try again she swore, this time grabbing successfully for the railing to either side of her as her left ankle refused to support her. "Shit - I think I've twisted it," she muttered, now turning and pulling herself back into the wayfarer to sit down, letting go of the rail with one hand to examine the damage.
"Here, let me," I offered, kneeling beside her. Before she could protest I had started unlacing her shoe, carefully loosening it and sliding it off her foot so that I could then peel back her sock. Sure enough, her slender ankle was already starting to swell alarmingly; I flinched just looking at it. "Ouch. I'd say you're looking at several day's bed rest and an ice pack, stat."
Alex frowned down at the offending limb. "I'm sure it'll be fine..." she said, reaching to prod it - and wincing. "It's really not that sore," she lied.
"Mmhmm. I'm sure. C'mon, let's get you back to the car - carefully - and home."
I was soon glad of the pain keeping my head clear - getting me from the wayfarer into the rubber dinghy, back out of it again, into the car, out of the car, up the three flights of stairs to my flat all entailed a great deal of Kathryn's support, and that in turn meant an awful lot of close physical proximity that but for the regular stabs from my ankle would have been torturous. Even with the reminders from my injury my heart skipped from more than just exertion when she practically lifted me out of the dinghy at the slipway, clearly every bit as fit and strong as she looked and then some. As she helped me into her car and leant across me to fasten my seatbelt (which was really more help than was strictly necessary) my lips could only have been inches from her face and neck and I'll admit that I did breathe in a little, catching the scent of healthy, unperfumed skin, the slight hint of deodorant, fresh perspiration and sea air.
I found myself guiltily grateful that Debbie and Lynn had made plans that afternoon, as that meant Kathryn insisted on not only helping me up to my flat but also taking charge to settle me comfortably on the sofa and raiding my freezer for a bag of frozen veg, which she said would help much better than ice.
I was relieved that I tended to keep the place reasonably clean - cluttered, but not filthy, with papers and textbooks and course notes littered across my desk in the corner and my laptop with its various peripherals hogging the coffee table, but little else in the way of mess.
After helping me elevate my foot and position the bag over my ankle Kathryn had disappeared into my tiny nook of a kitchen; she now reappeared with a mug of tea, carrying it carefully over to where I sat on the sofa. "And the final touch," she said, sinking down next to me and passing the mug over. "I've been told tea has great healing properties."
"Thanks..." I grinned a little as I took the mug. "Do I trust your tea-making abilities?" I teased. "What with your weird aversion to hot beverages?"
"You'll just have to try it and see," she said, smirking.
It was slightly weak, and slightly too milky. Fortunately I wasn't terribly fussy about my tea, and I shot her a grateful smile. "Perfect," I said, "thank you."
"Of course. Anything for the invalid." Contrary to her slightly morose attitude this morning Kathryn seemed to be in very good spirits now; perhaps it was having to take charge, or maybe it was having some to take care of. "Can I get you anything else? A blanket... pillows?"
"I'm good," I said, nodding behind me to where a fleece blanket was hanging over the back of the sofa. "I'm a nester by nature," I confessed with a slight smile.
"Fair enough. When did you say Debbie would be here again?"
"She'll be back about seven, I think. I was going to make dinner." I smirked a little. "Looks like I'm ordering in."
"I guess so. I think I ought to stay until then, in case you need anything," she informed me then, an announcement which both delighted me and left my stomach fluttering with nerves. Had we ever spent time together without either something active to do or alcohol?
I thought about saying that she really didn't have to, but then, I really wanted her to, so... "All right. Do you want to watch a film? Play some Scrabble? Or I think I have a pack of cards somewhere..."
"How are you at Danish?"
And so we played Danish. Well, a little. The thing is, Danish (also known variously as 'Danish Bastard', 'Bastard', 'Shithead' and by a particularly whimsical couple I'd known at uni 'Pooface') was the ubiquitous card game of sixth formers and travellers. Since it was some time since Kathryn had been in sixth form there was no question where she'd learned it, and we were soon talking about the various places in the world we'd been, and the people we'd met along the way, rather than actually playing the game.
Kathryn, of course, had been just about everywhere (well, everywhere interesting) and met a good many people, and though she claimed not to be a 'people person' she still had plenty of amusing anecdotes to share about her experiences.
I had spent some time travelling between (and sometimes during) degrees myself, and had often travelled in rougher circumstances (although I'd never actually been into warzones as Kathryn had), so I had my fair share of stories myself, and the time passed merrily before I even looked at the clock again.
When I did I realized it was almost six o'clock and Debbie would be there within the hour. Kathryn, eagle-eyed as always, noticed my glanced at the clock.
"Almost dinner time. You probably want me to get out of your hair."
"I don't want you to, but sadly I think I should try to brave the shower somehow before Debbie gets back. I smell like sea air and sweat." I grinned sheepishly.
"Mm, the best smells in the world," she purred, stretching luxuriously and nearly causing me to fall off the sofa with feelings I shouldn't have been having. She smelled of sweat and the sea too. "You really shouldn't be standing on that foot," Kathryn said knowingly. "Does Debbie have a bath? You'd be better off going to hers and using that if you must rinse off."
Once I'd regained my composure I shook my head. "Her place is even tinier than mine. I'll manage though - I'll try to keep my weight off it and get it elevated again after," I said in an obedient tone.
"Mm. Very well. Just take care of yourself - I don't want to have to fight the good fight all by myself next week," she said, smirking as she rose from the sofa.
I had half hoped that she would stick around to make sure I got out the shower safely, but I was as relieved as I was disappointed I suppose that she was just leaving, and I nodded. "Thanks. For everything. I'm so sorry for taking up your afternoon like this."
"Oh, it's fine," she said, waving off the gratitude. "You saved me from going home and drowning my sorrows in work - I should be thanking you."
"Well, in that case you're welcome."
With a grin, Kathryn set about finding her things, which she had discarded in a rather random fashion in favor of getting me a comfortable seat and a cold compress. She moved confidently around the room, as if she had been there a hundred times and not just the one, and I couldn't help but think how typical that was - even when she was flustered or annoyed, as I'd seen her now, she seemed poised, confident, exactly where she wanted or was supposed to be. I did envy her for it - could that be all this... 'thing' was? This growing crush? Was it perhaps less that I wanted Kathryn and more that I wanted to be her, or at least to have her self-assurance?
Then she glanced over at me, her expression at once concerned and fond, and I had to admit that it wasn't just that I wanted to be like her - there was definitely something else to it. "Are you sure you're going to be all right? You have my mobile number, correct?"
I smirked a little at the formality of her word choice. "That's correct," I replied. "But I really think I'll be fine - I think the swelling's going down already."
"Mm. Okay. Just take it easy."
"I'll be in the office on Monday, you wait and see."
Monday morning rolled around and I found myself ignoring all the work I had to do in favor of sitting at my desk and staring at my mobile like an idiot. I hadn't seen Alex yet that morning and was half-convinced that her ankle had taken a turn for the worse and she wasn't coming in at all. Putting aside the fact that she hadn't yet called to say that was the case, I had to wonder why I was so concerned about it. While she was an excellent assistant it certainly wasn't as if I couldn't get by on my own if I needed to - I had survived for several weeks between Keira's leaving and Alex's hiring. Things were finally beginning to settle a little and there wasn't too much on my plate, so an absence of a day or even two wouldn't be the end of the world. So why was I so worried?
Perhaps it was the strange and still uncharted territory of our friendship; I didn't want one of my friends to be injured and was concerned for her well-being. That didn't quite seem to tally with the crawling feeling in the pit of my stomach, though; Alex was a big girl, and her ankle was sprained at best.
My inability to pinpoint exactly what was bothering me was so distracting that I barely noticed the knock on the open door or the figure who cleared their throat. My heart gave a jump as I looked up, landing with a thud when I saw Keith there, eyebrows raised expectantly. "Oh, it's you."
"Nice to see you too, sweetheart."
"Sorry, no, I was just... expecting someone else." I shook my head. "What can I do for you?"
"Just wanted to talk about our schedule for this week," Keith said, inviting himself in, apparently, closing the door behind him and coming to sit down in front of me.
...great. "My calendar is on the shared drive, Keith, I really don't think we need to go over this."
"You don't want to talk?" Keith looked wounded now, and had that confused expression he always managed when he could legitimately claim to have no clue what he'd 'done'.
"No, it's not... that isn't what I said," I sighed. "I'm just trying to streamline things."
"Well, it was actually the weekend I wanted to talk about. Are you taking Jonas?"
"I can do, though I thought you said you and he were going to have a 'boy's day out' on Saturday."
"Well, we were going to, but Keira picked up tickets to [something I'll think of later]..."
"But you hate the opera," I replied, surprised.
"Mm, but Keira doesn't. Anyway, I'm sure he'd happily stay at a friend, but I thought I'd offer you the option. Unless you have weekend plans already?" Was he fishing?
I shook my head. "No, it's fine, I'd love to have him. I can pick him up from school on Friday, actually, if that works."
"You'll want to liase with him on that - anything works for me as long as I know in advance. He, er... says your new place is nice," Keith offered now, obviously still trying to be 'friendly'.
"He's got his own room and a flat-screen TV. I'm pretty sure he hasn't even registered anything else."
Keith chuckled, shaking his head. "Don't forget wireless internet. Anyway, are we still meeting this afternoon to divide up tutorials?"
"Three o'clock."
"We'll be there."
Something akin to irritation flared up. "I really don't think you need to bring your assistant to this, Keith."
"You won't be bringing Dr Webb?"
"Well, she's been covering the tutorials so it would be logical for her to come..."
"But I can't bring my assistant."
"I didn't forbid you, I just don't see why it's necessary for her to-"
"No, it's fine, Kathryn, I understand if you're not comfortable with that - I'm sure it'll be okay."
I had to control the urge to reach out and throttle him. "It's not about comfort, it's about... No, you know what? Nevermind."
His face still a picture of innocence, Keith nodded 'understandingly'. "Well," he said, pushing to his feet, "I should let you get back to work."
"Right. Thank you."
I was feeling a little more chained to my desk than usual today by virtue of the fact that moving anywhere else was less than comfortable. I'd improved a little over the past day but I was still hobbling everywhere and had basically camped out with my foot up on a spare desk chair I'd stolen from the staff room working on lesson plans.
I hadn't seen Kathryn all day, which was a bit surprising. Even more surprising was that when I did it was as she was stalking past my office in skintight workout clothes. I thought she might have bypassed me altogether but she must've noticed me out of the corner of her eye because she skidded to a stop and backtracked to stick her head in the door. "Alex, there you are! How are you?"
"Better," I managed, my eyes fixed determinedly on Kathryn's rather than anywhere else about her person. "Thanks. Sorry, yeah, I've been hiding a bit today I guess."
"That's all right - are you sure you're okay? Has the swelling gone down?"
"Mm, yeah, mostly," I said with a smile and a nod. "I'm still limping but it's really not bad."
"Good, good." Kathryn leaned on the doorframe, tugging a little at her lycra top. "I'd hate to get in trouble for maiming an employee, so the quicker you heal, the better."
"Well, it looks as though you're exercising for the both of us, so..."
"Have to burn off some energy before the meeting this afternoon or I might strangle someone," she replied, making a face. "So, gym on my lunch break it is."
"Well," I said, still fighting against the urge drawing my eyes away from Kathryn's face, "good luck with that. I guess I'll have to satisfy myself with a stressball or something."
"Anything I can bring you?"
"A crosstrainer and a protein shake," I deadpanned.
She smirked and pushed herself off the door, bouncing up and down on the balls of her feet a few times. "I'll see what I can do."
Oh. Dear. God. "You, um. Do that."
The meeting was... bearable, I suppose. Keith didn't bring Keira, presumably in some fit of 'good faith', and he was reasonably cooperative with the various logistic ins and outs that Alex had managed to plan out. The rest of the week went by in a flash, which was just fine with me as I was looking forward to spending time with Jonas.
Having my son back was good on many levels; it meant I didn't spend all day and night buried in my work, it got me out of the flat, and most of all it was just good to see him. We had our share of issues - he threw more than enough stroppy teenager fits over the two and a half days we spent together that weekend - but I still hated seeing him go on Monday morning.
I had another busy week ahead, however. Alex - fortunately now recovered from her ankle and back to running around being everywhere at once, although she still seemed to limp slightly by the end of the day - was working on pulling together the final touches in time for the Summit, Keith was finally (with Keira holding his hand although at least not literally) getting properly stuck back into his own projects and teaching, and I had a busy week of meetings on top of my usual teaching schedule.
One of the meetings was actually more of a mixer - one of my least favorite parts of being head of department was the inter-departmental functions that, while not absolutely mandatory, you would be frowned upon for missing. This one, apparently, was a 'business outreach' affair, an evening liason between academia and local small-to-medium businesses, which I at least approved of in principle.
As it turned out, it was an eye-opening evening, although not in quite the way I'd expected.
"Hors d'œuvre? I stole more than I need."
The woman who'd sat down next to me wasn't an academic. Her suit was too well-tailored, her short hair too recently styled and highlighted, for her to be the type who spent most of her time in an office or a lecture hall - or in the field I suppose.
She wasn't a 'small local business' type, either. I'd her asking questions after the short talk given by our Communications and Marketing rep about business ties, and I could tell that she was involved in something on the larger end of the scale from not just the questions she asked but her tone and attitude as well.
Now she was smiling at me, showing white, even teeth, and holding out a plate which was indeed stacked with more finger food than she probably needed.
"As long as they don't involve meat I'd be happy to help you lighten your load," I conceded, nodding. "That quiche is probably safe..."
"Ah, a herbivore," my new companion said with a knowing smile. "Vet med?" she guessed.
"Hah. Do I really look like I spend all day elbow-deep in doggy guts?"
"I've learned that people are rarely quite what they appear," the woman said with a charming, slightly asymmetrical smile, the shade of an American accent apparent in her voice. She offered me a hand to shake. "Joyce. Winter and Heath Solicitors."
"Kathryn Sinclair, head of Ecological Sciences," I said, taking her hand. "Are you Winter, or Heath?"
"Hah, you flatter me," Joyce replied, her handshake, warm, dry, and confident without being bonecrushing. "But yes, I'm Winter."
I wondered briefly why she had approached me if she didn't know who I was, but these functions could be a bit tedious, so I didn't blame her for striking up a conversation, even if it was with a random stranger. "Well, forgive me for prying, Joyce Winter, but what are you doing here? You seem slightly out of the league of most local businesses - did the university court you specially?"
Joyce nodded toward a man I vaguely recognised as a Head of School somewhere in the Humanities. "I take on paid apprentices every summer from the law faculty and occasionally guest lecutre on civil rights law," she said. "So I get invited to all these things. Occasionally I'm actually able to make it. Besides," she added with a slight smile, "being successful doesn't stop us from being a local firm. What about you? What do the Ecological Sciences have to offer local businesses? Free bird boxes?" It took me a beat to realise that she was teasing.
"I'm sure we could whip something up if that's what you're in the mood for," I replied, chuckling slightly. "But no, it's more on the scale of sustainability practices and green energy options advisement. Just because they're small there's no reason why any business shouldn't strive to be more ecologically friendly."
At this, Joyce suddenly looked rather interested. "So you'd be interested in liasing with businesses on green initiatives?" she asked. "Guidance on best practice, innovative ways of genuinely keeping down our carbon footprint, and so on? I had a consultant in once to assess our practices, but he was rubbish - buzzwords and outward facing stuff but no real commitment."
"Ah, well. There I think we could help you." Before I knew it I was deep in discussion with Joyce Winter, going over her (surprisingly thorough) mental notes about the firm and their practices, scribbling things on napkins and discussing options.
The 'mixer' drew toward a close, and Joyce looked a little disappointed. "Do you have anywhere to be? We could continue this somewhere with better wine..."
"I know just the place."
"...So all-in-all, we're a good match. Simon does all the bar work, as it were, and occasionally writes officious letters, and otherwise generally just sits on his arse making us sound good with the 'Heath' name, the Great British legacy and all that, and I do... well, everything else. And in exchange for all the work I get to run the place the way I see fit, which suits me just fine."
We'd moved on from sustainability practices now - in honesty there'd been very little left to discuss by the time we got to [the bar] but I was very much enjoying Joyce's company and was happy to simply move onto other more 'getting to know you' topics. Joyce had removed her jacket now and beneath it was wearing a perfectly cut waistcoat over an equally well-tailored collared shirt, complete with cufflinks. Her figure was lean - long-limbed and athletic, and she carried herself with such poise and energy that although I could tell from her face that she was probably a little older than me she actually made me feel a little tired by comparison - despite the fact that I knew perfectly well that I was as fit as a woman half my age.
"Sounds like you have it all worked out," I commented, sipping my chardonnay. "I have to admit, our office is currently going through some reorganization of its own - nothing to affect our services," I hastened to add. "Just a bit of readjustment after someone returned from sabbatical and decided to hire an extra member of staff."
"Sounds like the sort of someone who needs to be pulled into line," Joyce commented with a single raised eyebrow and that charming lopsided smile. "You don't seem like the type to just let something like that go."
"Mm, yes, well. Matters are a bit complicated by the fact that he used to be the de facto co-head of department before he left. And also my husband."
An interesting-yet-unreadable expression flickered across Joyce's face, and she leaned forward slightly. "That can't be easy for you," she said.
"Oh, you think that's bad... that member of staff he hired? Used to be my old assistant. Before she decided she'd rather shag him instead." I was slightly drunk by this point, which probably explained the laughter that threatened to bubble up at any moment.
"Are you serious? My God, that's some gall..."
"It's fine, it's fine... good riddance to them both. Except they came back, so it's not really riddance at all."
"Is he at least good at his job?"
I gave her a look. "I wouldn't have had him back if he wasn't."
Joyce sat back a little, holding up her hands in mock-defense. "Hey, I'm not judging - we all do crazy things for love sometimes." I got the vague impression that I was being tested somehow but I wasn't sure how or why.
"Believe me, love had nothing to do with it," I muttered, shaking my head. "I guess I understand why everybody thinks I must be heartbroken, but really, can't they believe me when I say I'm fine?"
"So you weren't in love?"
"Oh, don't tell me you're going to start insisting I ought to be traumatized too..."
"Not at all," Joyce said, shaking her head, her tone still one of sympathy, but without that patronising note I was used to. "You found someone with whom you had a lot in common, who you found it easy to live with, could see yourself spending your life with, and so you jumped at it - plenty of people would and it can work. And you were comfortable. Until one of you fell in love for real." She tipped her head slightly to the side, her eyes boring into mine. "Sound about right?"
I was speechless for a few seconds; no one had ever managed to sum up exactly what had happened so accurately. "Pretty much," I managed eventually, taking a gulp of wine. "Well, more like exactly. Yes. That's exactly right."
Joyce nodded slowly. "And you're rewarded for your pragmatism with the slap on the face that you were only enough until the real thing came along," she finished. "It stings when someone you love does that to you, whether you were in love or not," she said then. "I've been there."
"Oh. Well. I'm sorry," I said, a bit stupidly, still resonating with the accuracy of her summation. "That's too bad."
Joyce shook her head. "You probably wouldn't have thought so at the time - I was in your husband's place."
"You... Oh. I see. Well, ah... It's not like I can really blame you. Or him. Everybody wants love, don't they?"
"Of course," Joyce said, leaning forward a little again, "but we have a responsibility to the people we care about as well. It sounds as though your ex husband is being a little thoughtless, caught up in his own happiness without taking time to consider yours."
"It's fine," I said, shrugging. "Besides, shouldn't I be in charge of my own happiness?"
"Absolutely," the other woman said, nodding, her eyes flickering briefly across my face, taking in my expression. "Of course you should." She hesitated, seeminly deciding not to go on and straightening somewhat in her chair, picking up her wine glass once more. "So what have you been doing about that? Your own happiness, I mean. How's that going?"
Briefly I considered that this was a strange turn for the conversation to be taking, but I really didn't care - it had been a while since I had been able to talk about this to someone other than Alex or Mike, and Joyce certainly had a different perspective than either of them did. "It's... fine, I suppose. I'm happy enough."
"Happy enough. But not as happy as you could be?"
"I really haven't explored my full capacity for happiness," I snorted. "Maybe this is as happy as I get."
Joyce raised her eyebrows a little. "And does that work for you? If this was as good as it gets, would that be okay?"
I didn't know quite what to say to that, so I shrugged and sipped my wine. "I'm sure I'd survive."
My companion for the evening gave me a long look at this, her eyes never leaving mine as she lifted her own wine back to her lips. "Let's talk about something else," she said then. "I'm sorry, it's my instinct to probe - I didn't mean to make you feel uncomfortable..."
"You must be very good at your job," I said with a wry smile.
"Not if I get caught doing my digging," Joyce countered. "You're more than welcome to ask me impertinent questions in return," she added, spreading her hands before her and shooting me a disarming smile. "I'm an open book."
We ended up chatting long into the night. I diverted the topic onto hobbies and from there we meandered through travel, politics, and for a brief time touched upon exercise regimes - I was not surprised in the slightest to hear that Joyce was a runner.
"I bet you get bored running, though," Joyce mused, tipping her head to one side, "particularly in the gym, where you're not even going anywhere. You like even your exercise to engage you mentally somehow, am I right?"
"Guilty as charged," I admitted with a chuckle. "Preferably I like exercise that doesn't feel like exercise - though I'll resort to the cross-trainer if I have to."
"See, me, I like to just pound the pavement, get out of my head completely," Joyce said. "Just push out every thought and run myself until I think I'll be sick, run until everything's gone. Don't you ever just want to empty your head of everything in it?"
"God, no. I'd spend the rest of the day trying to put everything back in again."
Joyce laughed, reaching again for the bottle between us to top up our glasses. "I'll bet."
"Besides, that sounds more like sex to me - emptying your head completely." Okay, I had definitely had too much to drink at this point. I could feel my cheeks start to burn.
"Really?" She sounded intrigued again, once more sitting forward slightly. "That's what you do during sex? Empty your mind?"
"Well, you know... You know what I mean!"
"Not really," Joyce said, shaking her head. "Well, I mean, I do in the sense that we discussed the emptying of one's mind, but for me, when I have sex, I'm right there, the whole time, completely absorbed in my partner, absorbed in the moment." She shot me a tiny smile now, leaning just a little closer. "I never find such clarity of mind as I do during a good hard fuck."
Maybe it was her choice of words that made me squirm and blush deeper, or perhaps it was the fact that what she was saying was pretty foreign to me. Sex had never been one of those things that 'cleared my head' - I had had just as many things running through it when Keith and I made love as any other part of the day. "Erm, well," I mumbled, looking down at my glass. "Whatever floats your boat."
"Hey, don't get shy with me now," Joyce said gently, almost cajoling. "I didn't mean to offend, I'm sorry. I'm just... straightforward. Well, when it matters."
"No, it's okay, really. It's fine. I suppose I'm just... a little rusty. It's been a while for me, good hard fuck or otherwise," I admitted, glancing up at her sheepishly.
"Wow, I could listen to you use that language in that accent all day," came the response. "Sorry, non-sequitur. Well, I'm surprised to hear that - I'd have thought a beautiful woman like you would have no shortage of eligible offers."
"It's not the amount of offers that's the problem, it's the people making them. I just feel like... I'm too old to start sleeping with random arseholes just to scratch an itch, you know?"
"So, what's it to be, The One or nothing else? Accept no substitutes? That could get lonely..."
"It doesn't have to be The One - just someone I'm attracted to who doesn't have me gritting my teeth in annoyance by dessert." I sighed. "Is that too much to ask?"
"Not at all. Sounds like you've had some pretty bad luck."
"Well, until tonight, at least," I joked, smirking.
Joyce's only response was that smile, and a slightly quirked eyebrow. My laugh turned into a nervous chuckle, and I suddenly found myself playing with the coaster in an effort to occupy my hands. "I just mean... tonight has been really lovely. I'm glad you had too many hors d'oeuvres."
"Mm, I actually loaded my plate up extra just so I could come over and use that line," Joyce said matter-of-factly and now, looking at her, I couldn't for the life of me figure out whether or not she was kidding.
"Uh. Right. Well, it's late, and if I don't show up tomorrow the department's likely to fall to pieces, so I should get going..."
"Oh, well, fair enough," Joyce said, though she didn't move, just taking another sip of her wine. "I've had a really nice evening, Kathryn. I'm sorry it has to end so soon."
"You have my card," I offered, feeling slightly bad for leaving so suddenly, but unable to stay any longer for some strange reason. "Give me a call and we can do lunch, maybe."
"Sure, I'll definitely do that," Joyce replied smoothly. "Which way is 'home'? Just, if we're in a similar direction we could share a taxi."
As it turned out, we were both in the same direction - I lived closer than Joyce, but it seemed reasonable enough to share a ride home. Sliding into the backseat of the black cab was slightly nervewracking, and not just because of the amount of white wine I had had over the course of the evening.
Joyce herself seemed entirely relaxed, settling into the seat next to me, back in her suit jacket now and looking as poised and confident as ever. Her expression turned a little curious as she looked at me now, however, my usual ability to hide my emotions when necessary failing a little in the face of wine and this new, strangely disarming company. "Something on your mind?" she asked, turning to face me in her seat, tipping her head to one side a little.
"No," I said, shaking my head firmly. "I mean, yes, there's always things on my mind, but there's nothing specific at the moment."
"So you're not 'gritting your teeth in annoyance', then, at least?" she murmured, and even in the dim light of the back of the cab I could tell she was smiling a little again.
"Of course not. I enjoyed this evening, I told you. It's been... really nice."
"Then why do I get the feeling I've done something to make you uncomfortable?"
"...I don't know what you're talking about," I murmured, shaking my head.
There was a long pause - probably the longest silence there had been between us since the moment we met. "D'you know, I believe that," Joyce said, and she shifted a little in her seat, sliding slightly closer to me. I felt her hand touch lightly to my leg as she placed it on the seat between us to lean on it, and as surprised as I was I couldn't seem to move away as she shifted closer and closer. In shock my gaze dropped to her lips, which were slightly parted and very pink, and before I knew it they were on mine. My surprise doubled as I found myself leaning into the kiss, though I don't think I had taken a breath or blinked in quite some time.
It wasn't overly passionate, or particularly long - though those few seconds did seem to stretch out and I did feel the slightest touch of her tongue to mine even as I didn't realise I'd opened my mouth against hers. Nonetheless I felt as though I was gasping for breath as she pulled back - not far, just far enough to meet my eyes, her fingers touching lightly to my cheek. "Sorry," she murmured, though she didn't sound sorry at all. "I don't do anything by halves. Not even causing discomfort and confusion."
"No, that's..." I was going to say okay, only I realized it wasn't, mainly because my head was spinning now and my heart pounding and I had the very distinct feeling that whatever had just happened I shouldn't have liked it as much as I did. "I have to get out. I need to... stop the taxi!"
The taxi did draw to a stop, although Joyce had reached to place a hand on my shoulder. "Hey, wait a second - I mean, go, by all means, if you need to, but hang on just a second..."
I hesitated, looking up from my frantic rummaging in my bag for change to meet her eyes. I knew I must look a mess but couldn't really help it - I wasn't very good at being taken by surprise.
"Okay, listen to me. You are a stunning, intelligent, witty, exciting woman, and I would like nothing more than to take you home with me right now," Joyce said, her voice low and her tone more serious than it had been all night, "...but I can see that that's not going to happen and even I know when I'm beat. And that's okay - and if this whole thing was just an unpleasant shock then I apologise profusely for misreading you, and for pushing the matter. But Kathryn, I don't think that everything I got from you there was shock. And even if you never see me again, I think you should think about that. Remember..." - and now she'd lifted her hand to my face again, cupping my jaw just briefly, and somehow I wasn't pulling away - "it's never too late to meet the girl of your dreams."
"Jesus - and then what happened?"
"And then I stumbled home, poured myself into bed, and somehow managed to miss my alarm the next morning anyway." I sat back, feeling both relief and apprehension at having gotten everything off my chest. Mike had certainly looked interested, but he hadn't really given me any opinion yet... and I was a bit worried what it might be when it came.
"Well." He sat back, taking a careful sip of his pint - which was still nearly full as he'd been too enthralled even to drink up until now. "Sounds like one hell of an evening."
"Yes, it certainly was. Completely unexpected."
"Really?" Mike raised his eyebrows a little, looking mildly surprised. "I'd have though, a smart, individualistic woman like you'd have tried just about everything at some point or another. I mean," he went on quickly, "not in a seedy way, just..."
"I was married for twenty years, remember? Didn't leave a lot of time for 'experimenting'," I said, rolling my eyes. I didn't know if I was thrilled with his assumption, but at least he wasn't drooling on the table or condemning me outright.
"Okay, okay..." he held up his hands defensively and I flashed back to Joyce doing the same thing the other evening. Had I always been this defensive? "At least you're free to do all the experimenting you like now," he offered as if by way of consolation. "If you wanted to."
"Yes, but I..." Didn't want to? Was that really true? I was still off-kilter about the whole thing, but hadn't I spent a lot more time than was strictly necessary remembering that kiss over the last few days. "It's a bit odd, isn't it?"
"I don't think anyone being attracted to you is odd," Mike said matter-of-factly.
"No, I just mean - thank you - I just mean the sudden 'middle age lesbian crisis thing'. Just because there was a tiny something there with Joyce doesn't mean I'm... well, wouldn't I have noticed by now?"
"You're probably asking the wrong person," Mike admitted, "but just because there's never been anything before does that mean there wouldn't be now? I couldn't stand blue cheese until after my fortieth birthday. These days I can't get enough of the stuff." He shrugged. "Besides, is there a rule that if you go one way there's no going back? I thought women were entitled to keep their options open these days..."
"I don't know what the rules are, that's the problem. I was clueless enough about internet dating, and this is a whole other can of worms..."
"I think you might want to worry less about the rules and more about finding out what you actually want," Mike suggested, reaching for his pint again.
I scowled at him not because he was wrong, but because he was probably right. The problem was that I had no idea how to go about this - it wasn't as if I could just grab a woman and say "I need to figure out if I actually fancy women, let's shag". It would be wrong on a lot of levels, and as much as I got the feeling that Joyce was really quite interested in me (as far as I could remember through my nervousness) I didn't think she'd be up for being an 'experiment'. "Yes, well," I grumbled, keen to change the subject. "Speaking of which, have you figured out what you're doing about your car? I swear you'll thank me if you go hybrid..."
To my relief, Mike had let me change the subject and we'd gone on to have a spirited debate about transport and the fuel crisis, and for a while I forgot all about the incident that had plagued my mind in the few days since it occurred. It wasn't until I was leaving the pub - still quite early as we'd grabbed dinner right after work - that I received a text from Alex which for some reason brought everything roaring back.
I fussed with my phone as I headed for home, typing and erasing several replies until I had one I was happy with.
"And what are you smiling at?"
I glanced up from my phone quickly, trying not to look too guilty. "Oh, nothing. I mean, well, just Kathryn confirming on a celebration next weekend - we didn't have anything arranged, did we?"
"Not that I can think of, no," Debbie said, pursing her lips. "What sort of celebration? I mean, is it a group thing, because I'd really like to meet this woman I've heard so much about..."
"Oh... I really don't know," I confessed, "she said to leave it to her so I think probably we're just going sailing somewhere nice? You should, though," I added. "Meet her, I mean. I'll arrange something, yeah?"
"That would be lovely, sweetheart."
"Okay, great." But not next time, maybe, I found myself thinking - after all, our next dinner together would be part of our quiet celebration of victory over beaurocracy and funding crises and so on... Debbie didn't want to be around for that...
My girlfriend shifted, reaching to switch the lamp on, the book in her lap flipping closed at the movement. "Are you almost done with work for the night, then? Because I could use some quality cuddling time before bed..."
"Um... yeah," I said eventually. "I mean, I'd like that." Way to sound unenthusiastic...
Either Debbie didn't notice or she was getting good at ignoring my failings as a partner, as she just smiled and scooted over to make room for me on the sofa. "C'mere then, you."
With a smile that I hoped looked rather keener than I felt, I did as I was instructed, cursing myself all the time for not having the guts or the inclination to shake things up by doing what I ought to and ending this before anyone was going to be too badly hurt. I liked to think that Debbie knew, too, that this was 'just for now' - certainly she had never dropped any 'L bombs' even though it had been months now.
She was a sweet person, and I enjoyed her company, but even as I snuggled against her I was thinking of another warm body, this one slim but strong, arms wrapped around me and barely straining to support my whole weight, and I was beginning to wonder whether I wouldn't at least feel more honest if I was alone, even if I would be lonely without her company and affection.
Luckily I didn't have much time to dwell on my guilt during the next week; preparations for the Summit were in full swing and I spent almost every waking hour either typing up last-minute notes, making photocopies, wrangling the Operations Department to make sure we'd have enough tables and chairs and liaising with teachers and students to make sure that everyone who said they were going to show up would.
By the next Thursday evening, everything was, it seemed, in place for the Summit launch on Monday, and Kathryn and I were finally sitting down to food together either side of a table in our usual pub.
She had been just as busy as me during the week, which had meant we hadn't really gotten to see each other or touch base other than quick emails or phonecalls back and forth. It was just as well as I didn't need the distraction, though I had been looking forward to this dinner all week.
"To a well-organized and smooth-running event," Kathryn was saying, raising her glass and smiling at me expectantly.
I raised mine in return, clinking it lightly to hers and smiling back. "So well-organised that I didn't manage to book anywhere nicer for dinner," I said apologetically.
"Nothing wrong with the tried and tested," she said with a generous shake of her head. "Besides, it's the company that counts."
My smile turned into a grin at this - I'm not sure I'd have felt it if you slapped me. "So what are we doing at the weekend?" I asked now.
"Well, that depends," Kathryn replied, a somewhat mischievous expression coming over her features now.
I narrowed my eyes a little. "...On?"
"How well you get along with sulky teenagers?"
My lips twitched slightly. "The Summit doesn't start until Monday..."
"Hah. Well, consider this practice, then."
"Oh yes?"
"Mmhmm. And I'm not saying any more," she told me, grinning. "I want it to be a surprise. Just be ready to go by seven."
"I'll... be waiting," I said more confused than ever. Obviously it hadn't escaped my memory that Kathryn had a thirteen year old son, and I had to assume that this weekend was therefore to include him in some way, but I couldn't see why she would want me tagging along if she was spending time with him.
"Good!" Deftly Kathryn turned the conversation to other topics; she seemed almost too animated now, though perhaps it was just the giddiness of a huge project nearly completed.
Still, I'd become quite adept by now at pushing any nervousness or worry aside and just enjoying my time with her for what it was, so I did just that, and the rest of our dinner passed as pleasantly as every one before it. We left after just one drink - we both had too much to do to linger longer, sadly, but the thought of Saturday's 'surprise' had me grinning all the way home.
What I had been thinking planning an early-morning departure with a teenager in tow I'll never know. I had already knocked on Jonas's door twice that morning and save for some particularly zombie-like moans had seen nor heard no sign of my son yet. "C'mon, Jo, you can sleep in the car. I just need you to drag yourself into the backseat."
The only response I got then was a muffled cry of, "The backseat? Aw mu-um..." but eventually I heard sounds of movement and it wasn't long after that that a showered and dressed Jonas appeared, raiding the kitchen thoroughly for anything approaching junk food that he could add to our picnic.
He was still at the monosyllabic stage, though, leaving my mind free to be occupied by my nervousness over our upcoming weekend. It wasn't just what we'd be doing - though I knew it held some potential for trouble later on - but more who we'd be doing it with. It hadn't be hard to avoid seeing Alex very much that week as we were both incredibly busy, and it was good we were, because every time I did see her I was distracted by strange flashbacks to my conversations with Joyce and memories of our last sailing trip together when Alex had hurt her ankle.
I reminded myself that it was natural that I was suddenly preoccupied with her - after all, Joyce had left me questioning my own... 'options'... and Alex, although far from the only lesbian I knew, was the only one with whom I had regular contact. That line of reasoning didn't explain my sudden tendency to stare at her lips as she talked or the fact that I had nearly invited her back to my place for another drink on Thursday night, but tried to shrug that off and ignore it as best I could, not least because in addition to being in what seemed a stable if not passionate relationship, she was my subordinate - being friends with her was quite unprofessional enough without sullying both our working relationship and our friendship by making her the subject of my middle-aged experimentation - and that was taking the big leap that she would even be interested.
And so we were friends, and friends we would stay. I just wished I didn't have to remind myself of this quite so often.
"Mum, the light's green."
"What? Oh, right..." It was going to be a very long car ride.
I was ready and waiting outside my flat at seven sharp; Kathryn had advised me to wear my normal sailing attire but to bring a change of clothes as well as lunch, and I had gone a little overboard the night before packing other things I had no idea if I needed, including cards, extra snacks, and a beach towel. My stomach did a little flip as I saw her familiar blue Prius making its way down the street, though there was an unfamiliar face in the backseat that I knew must be Jonas.
I trotted over, opening the boot to dump my bag and noting that it was somewhat more packed than usual, though that was perhaps expected given that we had an extra person. As I got in I noted that Kathryn didn't have the radio on as she usually did, presumably for Jonas's benefit.
"Good morning, Alex," Kathryn said brightly, turning to smile at me. "How are you?"
I grinned broadly at her slightly over-polite greeting, although I couldn't help but be slightly nervous at the idea of spending time with her along with her son.
"You must be Jonas," I said now, to the boy in the backseat, who raised his gaze to mine briefly, giving me a polite but unenthusiastic smile. I was struck by how much like his mother he looked, although I had never seen her wearing such a studied expression of boredom admittedly. Finally I climbed into the car and we were off.
The drive was quiet at first; Jonas dropped off into sleep, his head against the window, and Kathryn seemed loathe to wake him. As the morning progressed and he continued sleeping, however, she eventually spoke up, though she kept her attention on the road ahead.
"So - how was your evening?"
"Hm? Oh, nice. I went along to Debbie's knitting group," I said with a slight smirk. I didn't look at Kathryn - honestly I was watching road signs, trying to figure out where we were headed. As we made our way down the South West coast I was starting to get an idea, although I didn't quite dare to voice it even internally. "Yours?" I said after a pause. "Did you cave and watch The Dark Knight in the end?"
"It was inevitable," she sighed. "Not that it was bad, mind you - I enjoyed parts of it. And Jonas loved it, even though he's seen it a dozen times already."
"Suitably delighted by the flatscreen, then, is he? I take it you didn't manage to talk him into following it up with the Blue Planet on Blu-ray?"
"Not hardly. 'Mu-uum, I've already seen the Great Barrier Reef, this is boo-oring..."
"Aw, even shiny high-def can't tempt him? Clearly he's a teenager."
"Must be," she said, and I caught her giving him a fond glance in the rear-view mirror.
I smiled a little to myself. "Scared yet?"
"Oh, terrified. On the other hand, I've heard teenagers are pretty resilient, so it seems unlikely that we'll be able to scar him too badly. Though we may try."
"I suppose parts of the last few months can't have been too easy for him," I ventured gently now.
"No, definitely not," Kathryn agreed. "I worry that what happened between me and Keith is going to affect him badly in the future... And I just can't stand the thought."
"I don't know," I said. "I mean, I'm not a mother, obviously," I qualified, "but my parents lived together in a marriage that made them both miserable until after I went to uni, and honestly even as a kid I just wished they could both be happy..." I trailed off as I caught sight in the mirror of Jonas's eyelids flickering, just slightly. Was he really asleep? Making a mental note to be careful what else I said, I went on nonetheless. "...even if it meant them being apart," I finished.
"Well, that's good to hear," Kathryn replied, glancing at me momentarily with a grateful smile, and the sudden urge to move my hand and place it over hers where it rested, currently unmoving, on the gearstick was almost unbearable. "Clearly you turned out all right," she wet on, "so I shouldn't worry too much."
"Well, I have my share of neuroses," I said, "but I wouldn't blame my parents for them."
"Well, clearly, if you're willingly attending a knitting group..."
"Ah, but then clearly you aren't aware of the knitting-baking correlation," I replied sagely, "they have excellent cakes."
That must've been the magic word, as Jonas stirred and pushed himself upright behind us. "Are we there yet? I'm hungry."
"Not yet, but there are snacks in the bag by Alex's feet - I'm sure if you ask nicely she'll give you some."
"Sure thing," I said, and not waiting for the magic word I bent down to sift through the snackfood on offer. "We've got carrot sticks, celery, and granola bars," I said.
"Aw, what? Mu-um..."
I cast an amused glance Kathryn's way. "That's your lot I'm afraid... hey, wait, who put a Mars bar in here?"
"Jo-nas..."
For his own part Jonas sat forward and I tossed the offending chocolate over the back of the seat, which he caught neatly.
"Nice!" said my new ally.
"At least it's not one of those disgusting Pepperami meat sticks," Kathryn said with a roll of her eyes, sighing.
"I think I have one of those in my rucksack, actually," I confessed with a smirk.
"Okay, both of you, out of the car," she ordered while Jonas snickered. "You can walk to Wales."
"Ah hah, I knew it," I said. "We are committing piracy."
"Yarrr!" Jonas declared. Kathryn laughed.
"Something like that, yes. I hope you brought your eyepatch."
"More like a crutch and a pegleg if our last excursion is anything to go by..."
"Mm, we'll do our best to avoid that this time. Even if it means lowering you over the side in a lifeboat."
I wasn't sure how I had expected the day to go. I'd worried about whether Alex and Jonas would hit it off, but of course I shouldn't have - Alex was easy-going and Jonas just didn't care enough to make trouble - apart from anything else he loved sailing as much as I did and was as invested in having a good day as anyone else.
I could tell Alex was a bit taken aback when we finally reached the marina and I had strode confidently on board the Queen Malachite, keys in hand. It wasn't a huge boat, but it was certainly bigger than the wayfarers we had been taking out and would take a crew who knew what they were doing to keep her on course. That was part of the reason I had brought Jonas along - she would sail with two but not when one wasn't sure how to proceed.
We had about two hours to get ready before the tide would be at the right height to leave the marina, and so we set to work immediately, uncovering, unwrapping, running safety checks and so on.
Jonas scampered about as if he had been born on the rigging - and he practically had. though it had been at least a year since I had last been on the yacht it was much like riding a bike - some things you just don't forget. Together the three of us had her ready to go not too long after the tide was in our favor, and after loading her up with the contents of the car we set off.
Alex seemed delighted, although almost shy, on tenterhooks for instructions and a little nervous of taking the initiative, even though she was an instinctively good sailor and generally had a solid idea of what needed done. Once we were out in open water Jonas immediately wanted the wheel, and I was happy to oblige, tasking him with what was to my mind the rather boring job of keeping us on course (a trip around the coast that we'd taken many times before in the past) while Alex and I manned the sails and generally just enjoyed being out on the waves.
Eventually things settled enough that we could talk, albeit loudly in order to be heard over the wind and the waves. "So what do you think?" I called to Alex after having waved a hand to get her attention.
Alex favoured me with a broad grin, and I staunchly attempted to ignore the way my stomach flipped. "She's amazing," she said. "Thank you so much for this," she added. "I know you didn't really need me to be here."
"Like I said before, it's all about the company. There isn't anyone else I'd rather have out here with us." This was, a bit surprisingly, entirely true. It got a shy look in return, and I wondered whether, beneath her windbeaten red cheeks, Alex was blushing as I'd caught her doing a couple of times before.
I was about to say something else when my concentration was broken by a cry of "Mum! I think I saw some dolphins! Definitely bottlenose!" and I dutifully made my way over to take the wheel while Jonas capered around, pointing and taking photographs, tugging Alex around the vessel in his eagerness to share his 'find' with her. Alex seemed enchanted by both the cetaceans in question and by my suddenly excitable, overenthusiastic son, and my cheeks soon ached from grinning.
The day was going well - almost too well, actually. I had expected some kind of friction or awkwardness, but everything - the weather, Jonas's behavior, Alex catching on to her duties - was perfect. I couldn't remember the last time I had felt so happy.
I don't think I'd ever been subjected to such a complicated mix of emotions. I was nervous - almost anxious - to be sharing this space with Kathryn and her son, to be spending time with them almost as though (and this was thought I'd been trying and failed to dismiss all day) we were a family. I was excited - excited to be out on such a big craft, to be working as part of a bigger crew, learning new things on the hop, being out in such open water. I was happy to be spending time with this woman who had come to mean so much to me, who seemed to enjoy my company as much as I did hers, who made my heart take a proverbial running jump when she smiled at me.
And I was in pain. Not to sound too melodramatic - I mean, I wasn't wailing and tearing at my hair or anything like that. But there was this constant twisting to my stomach that wouldn't go away, a roiling pit of snakes to accompany every little flutter of pleasure or happiness. Because I was slowly coming to terms with the fact that this 'crush' wasn't just a crush, and I wasn't going to get over it, and what's more I didn't want to.
I found everything about her perfect - the 'rabbit food' lunches she packed, the adorable face she made as I flaunted my roast beef sandwiches, the way she teased Jonas and the easy, unaffected banter between them that showed that regardless of what had happened between her and Keith she and her son were still close. Even when I closed my eyes I could see her slim, tan arms, her blue, sparkling eyes, the fine wrinkles that creased her cheeks when she smiled.
The day wore on and we made it round the coast to the next port, mooring at a buoy in the bay before stopping to eat again. Jonas moaned about the healthy food Kathryn brought until she surprised him - well, both of us, really - with delicious-looking chocolate cupcakes that she produced out of a cooler bag she had snuck on board.
"Are these home-made?" I asked as we tucked in. "Because if I can get cupcakes on tap without having to go to a knitting group..."
"Mum can't bake!" Jonas declared with a grin, frosting already in residence on several spots on his face. "Once, she tried to make a cake and she almost burned the house down."
"Jonas, please, that's a bit over-exaggerated..."
"So should I be keeping you away from the stove down here?" I asked (for we'd taken shelter from the wind to eat in the little cabin).
"I know my limitations," Kathryn said, making a face at me. "Hence the purchased cupcakes. For which you're welcome..."
"Thank you, Mum," Jonas said in a sing-song voice, reaching for another cupcake.
I smirked a little. "What a polite little boy," I teased.
"Hey, you didn't say thank you either," he pointed out, rolling his eyes in exactly the same way I had seen Kathryn do a hundred times before.
I glanced over at Kathryn to find that she was already looking at me, and my stomach gave that familiar flutter. "Thank you," I said. And no, I didn't just mean for the cupcakes.
She smiled warmly, inclining her head. "Any time."
I'd never stayed overnight on water before. In fact, I'd never been on a sailing boat in the dark, and the experience was quite unique - I found myself sitting out on deck while Kathryn and Jonas played cards and bickered inside, my limbs slowly going numb from the cold as I stared not out to sea but back toward port, the little town's lights twinkling, the occasional movement from a car passing along a street, house lights going on and off again. I remembered a scene from one of my favourite childhood books, The Wind in the Willows, when Rat and Mole wander through a town in winter, staring in through the windows at the people living their lives inside. It had resonanted deeply with me at the time - it felt intimate, like sharing a secret. But right now, sitting out on the water with those little lights winking away across the bay, I felt as though I was the one with the secret. The thought made me smile, although at the same time I felt that hotness behind my eyes that meant tears weren't far away. I did have a secret, of course, one that I'd been nursing close to my chest all day. But not one I would be sharing with onlookers or eavesdroppers, or anyone.
After a while I realized that I hadn't heard any noise from inside the cabin in some time, and moments later there was the sound of footsteps behind me. "Thought you might be cold out here," came Kathryn's voice out of the darkness. "I brought you some tea."
Wiping my face hastily, I turned and shot her a smile, suddenly very glad of the darkness. "Thanks," I said, reaching up for the mug. "Sorry, I'm being antisocial..."
"No, no, it's fine... it really was a little cruel of me, shutting you up on a boat with a teenager and his mum for an entire weekend. I'm sorry."
"It's been wonderful," I said with feeling, hoping that she couldn't hear the slight wobble to my voice. "Perfect. Really."
I could see her smile in the faint light from the cabin, and she glanced down at the space beside me on the bench. "Mind if I sit?"
"Please."
Kathryn settled down close to me, ostensibly because of the cold, though she had brought a gilet and had turned up the collar after giving me my tea. "You've done very well today," she told me then, her voice low. "We'll make a pirate out of you in no time."
"I felt a bit out of my depth at first, if you'll pardon the expression," I said, drawing a slightly chuckle from my friend. "But thanks. Seemed to get the hang of it eventually. Not like you and Jo, but..."
"Well, in fairness, we've both been doing it a lot longer than you've had the opportunity. Come out with us a bit more and you'll be an old hand in no time."
"You're planning to make a habit of commandeering this vessel, are you?" I joked weakly, largely to cover how touched I was that not only did Kathryn not mind my butting in on her time with her son, but she actually wanted to repeat the exercise.
"Oh, well, probably not," she said with a shrug. "I imagine Keith won't care too much when he hears about this weekend but he probably won't want a repeat. Still, no reason why I won't have a boat of my own one day."
I nodded in reply, hunching my shoulders as a shiver ran through me - my hands were slowly warming, wrapped round my mug of tea, with the effect that the rest of my body was starting to notice how cold it was.
Kathryn noticed this - unsurprising, as she was sitting quite near - and frowned, shifting to put an arm across my shoulders. "If you're cold we can go inside - Jonas is probably asleep by now."
I meant to say, "Jonas has gone to bed?" What actually happened is that I opened my mouth and a long sigh escaped as the combination of the warmth of Kathryn's arm and thrill of her sudden proximity sent a fresh shiver through me. I swallowed, hard, glad that at least I had been so tensed up to start with that she wouldn't have felt me start.
At this Kathryn tutted, obviously taking my full-body frissons as something more innocent than they were. "Look at you... you must be freezing. Come on, let's get inside."
Sure enough Jonas was safely tucked into bed, just as I had predicted he would be. Alex let me lead her over to the padded bench that ran along one side of the little galley and took the blanket I offered her with a wordless smile of thanks, moving a little stiffly to wrap it around her shoulders.
I considered putting on more water to boil - I had only made the one mug of tea, but Alex looked as if she could use a whole kettle's worth. I felt guilty; I had lingered out on deck far longer than I should have, taking advantage of the cold night air as an excuse to sit near her and, in a moment of pure cheek, put an arm around her. Now she looked as if her teeth might start chattering at any moment. "Are you sure you're okay?"
She looked up quickly when I spoke, looking almost guilty although I couldn't fathom why... and were her eyes a little bright. "Sorry, I'm fine," she managed eventually, sounding anything but. "Just... thinking. Got preoccupied." She shot me a weak smile. "I'm fine."
I felt my stomach lurch at her expression, and though I couldn't think what I could have done to cause it I knew it must've been my fault. "I'm sorry," I said in a rush, "I've been so rude. You haven't gotten to speak to Debbie all day; you must miss her. Why don't you call her now? You should still have reception, or I can lend you my phone..."
At this Alex's face looked like it might actually crumple altogether, and I could see her fighting against bursting into tears. She shook her head silently, casting her eyes back down toward her mug of tea. "I..." - she cleared her throat - "...don't think I could talk to Debbie right now. Thanks. Sorry."
"No, no, it's fine..." I cursed myself silently for making things worse. "Do you... want to talk about anything? I'll just listen, I won't say anything, I promise."
At this, Alex brought her hand to her face, covering her eyes tightly. I could see her mouth tighten, her shoulders tense, and I could tell this was to prevent them from trembling. My instincts warred with one another for a long moment - the urge to go over to her, wrap her tightly in my arms, this new fear of contact that kept me frozen on the spot... before either instinct could win over she had drawn in a ragged breath and regained her composure, pulling her hand away from her face, eyes bright but cheeks dry, her shoulders slumping.
"I'm sorry," she murmured. "Sorry. I think I... let myself think too hard about some stuff."
"It's okay. Really." Terrified that I had suddenly, unknowingly, contributed to Alex's upset made my heart beat faster in distress, and I had to turn away, fussing with a few napkins that had been left out from dinnertime. "Maybe we should head to our beds. Sleeping on a boat is very soothing - I'm sure you'll feel better in the morning."
"Mm. Maybe." Alex cleared her throat again, and I heard her get up from the bench, feeling her closer to me in the small space of the cabin before she touched her hand to my arm, so lightly it should barely have registered, although somehow it was more like all the sensation in my body had spontaneously centred on one spot. "Kathryn, today really has been perfect," she said. Her voice was slightly hoarse from her brief bout of almost-tears, and she was speaking quietly, obviously fearful of waking Jonas. "I can never thank you enough for letting me share this."
I hesitated; it would be rude not to turn, but somehow I knew I would give myself away somehow if I were to face her completely. In the end I shifted my shoulders, looking over at her with what I hoped was an innocent, open expression. "It's been my pleasure, Alex. Having you here has been wonderful. It really has."
Maybe Alex could tell that I was hiding something, or maybe not. It was hard to say, and, I reasoned, it wasn't as though she didn't clearly have her own preoccupations right now. I cursed myself for being so full of my own problems of late - obviously I'd missed something big for it to be bothering her like this.
Anyway, if she knew that my expression was somewhat forced she didn't show any sign of it, only giving me another watery smile and dropping her hand by her side. "It's been a long day," she said eventually, presumably in assent to my suggestion of bed.
"Mm. Well, I'm made up the berth in the bow for you - it's oddly shaped, but very comfortable." With Jonas asleep in the quarter berth it left one of the pull-out couches for me, though I knew I wasn't going to be getting much sleep tonight regardless.
"Thanks," came the reply in that same hoarse murmur. "Do you need any help out here? Putting anything away, washing up?" She frowned slightly then, a thought striking her. "Are you sharing with Jonas?"
"No, there's a couch that pulls out - I'll sleep there," I reassured her, still all too aware of her proximity despite the fact that we were no longer touching. "And it's fine, really - you just get yourself to bed."
Alex nodded slowly, though I think more in her preoccupation than out of any lingering confusion. "All right. Well, good night." She hovered, and it took a moment for me to realise that she was waiting for me to let her past - I was standing in between her and her destination.
"Oh, um, sorry..." I stepped to one side - this section of the galley wasn't the most spacious of constructions, but you could just manage two people passing if they were both skinny. "Good night."
She moved past me, carefully, since even on a boat of this size quick movements could cause a lurch that might wake Jonas, our thighs and fronts brushing past one another as we came face to face in the narrow channel and I immediately wished that I'd just moved out of the way entirely. "Good night," she replied before making her way to her berth, retrieving her bag on the way, leaving me standing, leaning against the bench behind me, still tingling from head to foot.
Perhaps it was sleeping on water, or perhaps it was the sea air, but I woke early the next morning feeling refreshed and remarkably calm given that the previous night I'd cried myself to sleep, my mind heavy with worries. I dressed in bed, pulling on fresh socks, pants and combats and replacing the teeshirt I'd worn to sleep in still under the big unzipped sleeping bag I'd slept beneath, grabbing a jumper and slipping it over my head as I stumbled from my bow berth along the narrow corridor to the galley.
I knew Kathryn was an early riser and expected her to be up by now, but the drive and the long day of sailing must've exhausted her as she was nowhere to be found. Peeking through the galley to the saloon I could just see the darkened shape that must've been her sofa bed poking out into the corridor. After running the basic safety checks on the gas supply, I put a kettle of water on the ring to boil for tea and had a rummage through the cool box (Kathryn had opted not to waste battery life on firing up the fridge for an overnight) for something to snack on. Spotting a carton of orange juice I was reminded of Kathryn's disinclination toward hot drinks and, after a hesitation, I poured a glass for her and crept along to where she slept.
The saloon was dark, though growing lighter by the minute with the sunlight from the companionway creeping in. Kathryn was sprawled on the small sofabed and I felt bad for not insisting she take the berth, seeing how tiny this one was. Her face was relaxed and peaceful, one hand curled on the pillow next to her head. As I watched she shifted, hand groping to one side for the small alarm clock propped against the wall.
Taking this as a sign that she must at least be beginning to wake I knocked lightly on the wall and ventured in, perching on the short stretch of seating to the other side of the bed. "Morning. Brought you some juice."
Kathryn opened her eyes, taking a moment to resolve me in the dim light. "Oh, um, Alex... good morning," she said slightly hoarsely, pushing herself up on one elbow. "Thank you. That was very nice of you."
"The least I can do after you slept on this. Why didn't you say? It's not as though there aren't two beds in the bow berth." Albeit our legs would have fought for space at the prow... The idea of waking up, legs tangled together with Kathryn's, flashed through my head unbidden, and even at this time of the morning it sparked a slight warmth in my stomach.
She smiled, reaching out to accept the cup of juice from me. "I didn't want to wake you in the morning... which of course seems silly now."
"Hard to sleep in long out here, isn't it? Well, if you're not a teenager, anyway..."
"Mm, exactly. I doubt we'll be seeing him for some time yet."
I found myself smiling both with my new-found fondness for Kathryn's bright, alternately sullen and endearingly overenthusiastic son, and at the fact that we would have some time alone together before he woke. "What's the expression, 'Youth is wasted on the young'?"
"I always thought it was 'Hey you, turn down that music!', but that sounds familiar as well." She took a sip of orange juice and then set down the cup, stretching her arms to either side and almost brushing the walls. "Right, time for breakfast I think. I can offer an exciting array of fruit, granola bars or porridge."
"Or a heady mix of the three," I suggested with a smirk, fighting to ignore how strong my insane urge to crawl into bed with her was right now.
"Indeed. Let's go wild, shall we?"
After our 'wild' breakfast (we decided that porridge was more hassle than it was worth and went for granola bars and a banana each) we pulled on shoes and made our way on deck to survey for the first time in full daylight where we'd ended up (it had been light enough to sail but fading dast by the time we'd arrived the previous evening).
I had been here before, of course, on many occasions, sometimes even making it into the small harbor to visit the town. It was a beautiful vista - green, lush hills surrounding the semi-circle bay and a beach so pale it was almost white. I knew that the trees and cliffs beyond were part of a nature reserve, another reason this spot was near and dear to my heart.
"Wow..." Alex had just arrived on deck behind me and had stopped, stock still on seeing the view I knew so well for the first time. "Kathryn, this place is just stunning," she murmured, and I felt her hand come to rest on my shoulder as she moved to stand beside me.
"It's too bad we can't stay a bit longer - I'd love to take you ashore," I told her, distracted from the view by the warmth of her body by my side. "I think you'd really like it."
"I think I would too," she replied quietly.
I couldn't think of anything to say to this that didn't sound highly inappropriate - offering to take her back here without Jonas probably couldn't be taken any other way but as the proposition it would be - so we lapsed into silence, staring out over the tranquil scene while the granola bar in my stomach was joined by a half-dozen butterflies.
Eventually, Alex cleared her throat. "I wanted to... apologise for last night. I let myself get into a bit of a mental rut."
"Oh, no, it's okay," I said, surprised she had brought it up but eager to reassure her. "You don't have anything to apologize for, trust me."
"I suppose out here it's all too easy to see your life for what it is," she went on, clearly still feeling as though she owed me an explanation of some kind.
I nodded slowly, still unsure about what she meant and half- hoping she might tell me. The other wasn't sure that I wanted to hear what she had to say. I felt her shoulders rise and slump a little as she sighed deeply. "Anyway," she said eventually, "nothing that can't be fixed I suppose. At least I got some things right," she added, turning her head to smile a little. Her hand on my shoulder moved, smoothing lightly down my arm as she dropped it back to her side.
"Alex, if there's anything I can do... If this is about work, or if I'm making you uncomfortable trying to be too familiar..."
"What? No, not at all." Alex shook her head, frowning and turning to face me a little. "Work is wonderful, and so are... is our friendship," she said, "it's just... personal stuff. I'll work it out. It's not that I don't want to talk about it, I just... can't right now. But I promise that I wouldn't change... what we have. For anything."
Though I knew I should feel relieved by this - couldn't help but feel a little... disappointed instead. Of course she wouldn't want to change what we had. I was stupid to even entertain the idea otherwise. I forced a smile, looking back out over the sea towards the village. "Good. Neither would I."
Why hadn't I just come out and told Kathryn that I was thinking about breaking up with Debbie? I had meant to, bringing it up, but something stopped me. Perhaps I was just scared that if I talked about my relationship I wouldn't be able to stop myself any longer from telling her how I felt about her. In any case, it was probably best that I didn't; it would've put the rest of the day off to a strange start.
As it was, things went well. Jonas eventually emerged from bed and after breakfast and a rousing game of Danish (at which Kathryn trounced us both) we set sail again, heading back.
The wind was stronger today, and less gusty, and we got a good speed up, Jonas once more 'hogging' the wheel although neither Kathryn nor I minded. Between the two of us we manned the sails, coaxing the yacht until she was gliding along faster than I had ever gone on a sail-powered ship. Kathryn whooped and hooked an arm through the rigging, her dark hair swept back from her face, and I know it's a cliché to say it but I had never seen her looking so beautiful. Perhaps she felt me staring, because she suddenly looked over at me, and our eyes locked, and I swear - I swear - there was something deeper there, beyond the thrill of nearly flying. And then she grinned, and pulled her gaze away and shouted for Jonas to take us closer in, and the moment was gone.
The rest of the day happened like a series of snapshots. I know that I took the wheel again at one point, and that there were more dolphins, although at a distance this time. I remember Kathryn and Jonas bickering over lunch and thinking how fond it was, how well they got along. I remember a nasty spot of wind as we rounded the home stretch that suddenly threw all three of us into a deep concentration, the past day's work together culminating in the discovery that I was now as much a part of their well-oiled unit as Kathryn and Jonas were, even if my skills weren't as honed.
I remember too the drive home in the encroaching darkness, Jonas asleep in the backseat once again and the still, almost sacred silence between us that was only broken when Kathryn pulled into a McDonald's drive-through as a surprise (and perhaps a bribe) for her son.
Eventually, as we neared my flat, I cleared my throat and spoke, all too aware that Jonas was now awake in the back, although he did now have a large pair of headphones over his ears attached to his iPod.
"I know I've said this already," I said, "but I'm going to say it again. This weekend has been wonderful."
"Yes, it has been," Kathryn agreed. "Having you along has been, well.... Perfect."
It didn't escape my notice that she'd used the same superlative I had the previous night, and I found myself turning to look at her, wondering that she would be so pleased to have had what was, after all, a 'friend-from-work' along.
Was there the slightest hint of nerves behind her smile? I couldn't tell, and I knew that the longer I looked for it, the more I'd read into it. Eventually she cleared her throat. "Well. I suppose it's an early night for all of us - big day tomorrow."
"Yeah... Excited? Nervous?" Maybe that was all it was - thinking about tomorrow.
"A little of both?"
"You must have done stuff like this a thousand times..."
"Ah, and I've always been a little nervous each time," she said, smirking and shaking her head.
"Well, you've got me now," I said, assuming the mantle of confidence. "Everything will be great."
"I know it will."
"Okay, sign ups are over by the door, if you have any special dietary requirements you need to visit the hatch and fill out a little form over there, and the learning packs are available at the back of the hall..."
The lobby to the auditorium was packed - turnout was much, much better than I had expected. Students milled around, shuffling the hefty packet of papers they had received upon registration, and I was in the middle of it all. And to my enormous surprise, I loved it - the running around like a mad thing, sending people here or there - even the kids themselves, all of whom wanted to be there, chosen by teachers and keen to learn.
Eventually the opening speech was about to begin and things died down, just for a few minutes. People filed into the auditorium, settling down in squeaking chairs, and I leaned against the wall outside just for a breather. It was then that Kathryn approached, dressed in a smart suit and wearing high heels for one of the first times I could remember. "Hey there, Dr Webb. Is this where I sign up?"
You couldn't have wiped the smile off my face if you punched me. "Professor Sinclair," I greeted her with a nod of my head.
"I saw the turnout - quite impressive," she said, grinning. "Are they all inside now?"
"Looks like - I mean, I'm sure there'll be stragglers, but..." I trailed off as a low buzz came from Kathryn's bag, and she shot me an apologetic look before reaching to check her phone. When she glanced down at the screen, she made a face and immediately hit 'ignore', shoving the phone back in her bag.
"Well then. I'm going to go listen to the speaker - care to join me?"
"God, d'you know, I think I'm going to listen from here," I said apologetically. "Taking the air out here."
"Fair enough." She flashed me another smile. "You're doing great, Alex. Keep it up."
Still grinning, I nodded, folding my arms and leaning against the open door to watch the opening speaker. She was a former student of Kathryn's who had gone on from her time at university to work within a high-ranking sustainable development think tank for the government, and she was great. The kids loved her stories of fieldwork and the tidbits she shared with them about the impact her work now was having on things like international policy and energy funding. At the end, to uproarious applause, she called Kathryn up, crediting her as 'the woman who started her on the path to green advocacy'. My boss, sitting at the back, bashfully declined at first, but eventually made her way down to the front, hugging her former student and waving her hand to quiet the room.
I straightened a little, stepping into the room and leaning against the back wall to get a better look at her as the keynote passed her a mic.
"Thank you everyone - not for your recognition, but for being here today. The work that Kate does, the work that I do means nothing if there are no more dedicated, passionate people out there to keep it going, to continue what we and all who have come before us have started. That is why we are thrilled to see so many of you here today, eager to learn and to hopefully one day surpass us in achievement and innovation. So thank you, thank you all for coming and thank you for all the hard work I know you're going to be putting in over the next few days." she paused as the students began to clap again, and then motioned for silence once more. "And while we're on the subject of thanks, let me thank my amazing assistant, Dr Webb, for all her hard work in putting this together. Without her none of us would be here right now."
As the applause started again and the crowd turned to look in the direction in which Kathryn had gestured I found myself blushing furiously, although in honesty, it wasn't really anything to do with the hundreds of faces on me. The only face I saw was Kathryn's.
Not long afterward the auditorium emptied and the crowd dispersed, splitting into smaller groups in order to meet with the undergrad facilitators I had assigned them. Most of my morning was spent flitting from room to room, checking up on everybody and diffusing any potential problems before they derailed the schedule. The staff I had helping me, mostly postgrads and few volunteer honours students, were enthusiastic and mostly pretty competent, so although we had our work cut out for us everything seemed to go like a dream. So much so that when the end of the day came and the student left for home I could barely believe it: still on the adrenaline high I had been floating on all day I headed back to my office to pack up.
I didn't even realise I wasn't alone in my tiny little room until I heard Kathryn clearing her voice behind me.
"Well, I think we can safely call the first day a success," she said, giving me a grin from where she stood next to the door. She looked different, and it took me a moment to realize she had taken off her heels in favor of her lunchtime workout trainers.
"Let's not relax just yet," I said with a returning smile. "There's the rest of the week to get through..."
"Who said anything about relaxing? We should celebrate!"
My smile widened into an amused grin as I looked back down at my cluttered desk, and back at Kathryn, "We just spent the past weekend celebrating," I teased. "Does this continue through the whole Summit?"
She sobered slightly, as if my reminder of the weekend had given her pause. "Well, I suppose you have a point... you must be exhausted from all your running around today."
"Hah, not really - kind of energised, actually," I said. "I was just teasing."
"Well, in that case... You're right, we have celebrated already, but I think this calls for at least a drink. On me."
Stomach fluttering as it always did when the prospect of spending time with Kathryn arose, I shrugged and nodded. "Why not?"
I had to put my heels back on in the end - regrettable, but I wasn't about to embarrass Alex by showing up at the bar in grubby old trainers. I had said 'a drink' but I was hoping to keep her out for more, selfish as that might be.
Alex herself was 'full of beans' as the expression goes, still riding the high from her successful day, and although she talked extensively about how good the staff were - both the venue staff and her volunteer assistants, there was no hiding that she was proud of herself - and quite rightly - for having pulled this off.
It was nice to see; Alex had always been competent but at the beginning of her time with me it was clear that she had doubts about her abilities. It was extremely gratifying to know that she was coming into her own, gaining confidence and motivation and enjoying what she was doing. And knowing that I had had a hand in that, however small, made me feel good as well.
"I just can't believe it was all so... easy," Alex was saying now, taking another long sip of her whisky, which was disappearing fast in her excitement. "I mean, not easy, but... I mean, I pulled everything together, covered all the bases, prepared for emergencies and it just...happened. You know? I've really never done anything quite like this before."
"It's not easy running a huge event like that - especially if you haven't had experience doing it before. Clearly you're good at it," I said, grinning at her.
"I... guess so," she admitted, starting to blush a little again.
"And that is something to be proud of. Not everyone can do that."
"Well, in fairness, not everyone can analyse and sequence biological samples either," Alex said with a slight smirk, "but no one was ever that impressed by that..."
"Well, are you doing this to impress people?" I asked, cocking my head to one side. "Because if so, there are probably better careers to pursue..."
"Mm, fair point," came the answer.
"But if you're doing it to do something, to make a difference... well, then, that you can be proud of."
My assistant shot that shy smile in my direction again. "Should have said you brought me out for a pep-talk - I would've brought my notebook."
"I'll send you the notes tomorrow," I said, grinning. "But this isn't a pep-talk, I just... I wanted to tell you what a good job you're doing, and how glad I am that we're working together."
"I am too," Alex said with a smile. "I sometimes think about how unsure I was about, well, everything, when I started here. Feels like another planet."
"Well, welcome to it," I said, raising my glass. "I'm glad you're here now."
Time wore on, and one drink turned into another, Alex apparently by no means keen to get to bed despite another long day tomorrow. She also apparently wasn't that keen to get home to Debbie, though of course I didn't bring that up.
I know it wasn't right. It was, in fact, pretty much the opposite of what I should have been doing. But after the idyllic weekend we had spent together, as well as the way the evening had been going, I couldn't help but fantasize a little bit about her shy smile meaning a bit more than 'thanks for the compliment', and I found myself 'turning on the charm' in a way I hadn't since... well, it had been a very long time. Certainly in my recent internet dates since my divorce I had never found myself thinking about how my hips and legs would look from behind as I walked over to the bar, or leant forward to touch my fingertips lightly to my companion's on the table as I emphasised some point in the conversation.
And it wasn't as if I wasn't encouraged, at least in my mind. Alex laughed at all my jokes, asked all the right questions and seemed, if not proactive enough to make her own moves, then at least appreciative of the times when I made mine. I cursed myself for reading into her glances and those little smiles that she seemed to save for our quieter moments - although I had come to the conclusion that she must not be as content with Debbie as she had been the fact remained that she was not free, and even if she had been I was her boss, fifteen years her senior, and by no means certain what I wanted for myself. Except that, for now at least, I was reasonably sure that, somehow, she factored into it.
All of this confusing jumble of wants and don'ts culminated at the end of the evening, as we were getting ready to leave (both a little reluctantly). We had put on our jackets and headed for the door and somehow in my drunken mind I had thought it was a good idea to sling an arm around Alex's waist as we walked. Suddenly all the muddle in my head was replaced by a full-body awareness of her next to me, and when we stopped to say goodbye I couldn't quite bring myself to step away as fully as I should have.
"Well..." she murmured. We hovered at the corner where she would turn off to walk home and I'd continue along the main road looking for a taxi, still just inches apart, my arm now hanging by my side, tingling like the rest of me. I realised she was still speaking and I pulled myself back to the present.
"...bright and early."
"Hm? Oh, yes, of course... bright and early," I repeated, nodding. "Another big day ahead."
"Will I see you? I know you have seminars in the morning..." She was still standing so close - close enough that she had to tip her head back a little to look me in the eye.
"Mm, well, I'll certainly stop in and see you when I can - if you want me to."
"Always happy to see you," Alex said, her eyes then dropping away a little, that shy smile appearing again. "I mean..."
I couldn't help it; something about that smile propelled me forward, pulling her into a hug. "So am I," I murmured.
I felt rather than hear her slight gasp, and for a split second she froze and I thought I'd done something terribly wrong, but a moment later she seemed to catch herself and was hugging me back, her hands coming to rest on my back.
We stood that way for longer than we should have, savoring (at least in my case) the feeling of being so near, the smell of her hair, the sensation of her hands pressed to my back. Eventually I pulled away slightly to look down at her, my stomach flipping over and over as I realized what I wanted to do, more than anything...
Alex disentangled herself from the hug so quickly that it almost made me stagger a little. She was still staring up at me, and I could tell even in the streetlamp light that she was blushing furiously. "I'll see you tomorrow," she said, actually stepping back a little before turning and walking - almost jogging - back off down the sidestreet toward her flat.
Shit. Shitshitshit. With my own cheeks now burning I watched her go, half-considering calling out to her, calling her back to explain myself... except what would I say? Alex, I never thought this would happen, but it has. I'm incredibly attracted to you, and what's more, I think I might be falling for you? No. I couldn't. So I walked home, alone.
My pulse was still roaring in my ears when I reached home. What the hell was that? First there was the hug, which, I guess, was normal enough - I mean, we were friends, we were a little drunk, we'd just had a really exciting day... but then, when we'd pulled back, and Kathryn had looked at me as though...
I shook my head, closing the door a little louder than I'd meant to behind me as I got into my flat, and I was suddenly very glad that Debbie and I wouldn't be together tonight - hadn't, in fact, since Thursday - because if I saw her right now I didn't think I'd be able to prevent myself from blurting out everything, right there on the spot.
I managed to make myself a cup of tea and get ready for bed in something of a daze - every time I my mind wandered I found myself back on that corner, Kathryn's arms wrapped around me, pressed against her, an she was pulling back to look down at me again, and every time I felt myself tip my chin up a little, shift just a shade closer, until I was sure that was what I had done at the time before pulling back and that, that meant that she knew, and that wasn't good at all.
I'm not sure how I got through the next week.
It helped that the Summit was still in full swing and that my every working moment was taken up with logistics and organization (as well as my usual seminars and duties). I saw Kathryn every day, but only briefly, sometimes just in passing. There were no more invitations to 'celebratory drinks' or mentions of our usual weekly dinner at the pub and I couldn't tell if I was relieved or worried by this.
In the meantime, I had other distractions in any case, namely the gentle teasing apart of my life with Debbie. We'd spoken on Tuesday evening, and come to the conclusion, which Debbie at least allowed me to pretend was mutual, that we should call it a day. She was hurt but not devastated, possibly because she'd seen it coming, and I tried not to think too hard about what sort of coward that made me.
This, of course, led to an evening with Lynn, who first accused me of being an idiot and then just as quickly turned around and offered sympathy for the breakup - being her friend was like risking whiplash every time you spoke. She seemed happy enough to believe that Debbie and I just 'weren't meant to be' - I didn't dare tell her what was going on underneath.
Either way, it made for a hungover Friday, but at least then all my concentration went on staying focussed on the job at hand rather than obsessing over Kathryn - and over what the hell I was going to do after the Summit. Imagining long weeks of being stuck in my office in front of my computer, alone, without the thrill of an exciting event to distract me and the woman of my dreams avoiding me only a few rooms away... well, it made my career prospects suddenly seem a lot less appealing than they had just a few days ago.
All in all, though, the rest of the Summit went as smoothly as the start, and the final day, with the live debates and the awards ceremony for the various achievements of those involved through the week, went extremely well.
One compliment I was not expecting, however, was from the former organizer, who caught me in the hallway on the way to my office. Keith gave me one of his wide, genuine smiles, hands outspread. "Well, Dr Webb, I hear congratulations are in order. The Summit was a big hit."
"Oh." Initially I wasn't sure how to respond, slightly taken aback. Eventually I managed a, "Right, well, I mean, thank you very much, Dr Sinclair."
"Well, it's you we should be thanking - a successful event like that is good for the department and the university. Can't put a price on good PR, eh?"
"Absolutely." Also, I told you so.
"Kathryn must be thrilled," he said then, raising his eyebrows at me. "She's been so tense lately, this is probably a load off her shoulders."
"I'm sure it... 'tense'?"
"You haven't noticed? Well, I suppose she does try to hide these things from people..."
I found myself frowning slightly. She did? "I suppose."
"Anyway, now things can get back to normal. Back to the grind," he joked.
I found myself nodding automatically although I'm not sure that I was really listening properly. "Right. Well, I should..." I nodded toward the office door and ducked through it, only realising when I got to the other side that this wasn't my office but Kathryn's - which had been where I was headed anyway, to drop off some books, but still, my bemusement left me dazed enough that when the phone began to ring I answered it automatically.
"Hello, A- Professor Sinclair's office?"
"Ah, finally. I had almost given up on getting through. May I speak to Kathryn, please?"
"I'm afraid she's taking a class right now. Can I take a message?"
A sigh. "Could you tell her that Joyce Winters called? We spoke last week about a possible environmental audit on my company and I'm very interested in moving that forward."
"Um... sure," I said, scribbling onto Kathryn's notepad. "I'll let her know."
"Great. And, ah, could you also add that this is purely a professional call? If there's someone else I should be talking to about this I'd be happy to do so."
I frowned slightly. "Um... all right?" Why would it be anything other than professional?
"Thanks very much. And may I ask who I'm talking to?"
"Hm? Oh! This is Alex Webb - I'm her assistant."
"Very nice to speak to you, Alex. I appreciate you giving Kathryn my message."
"No... problem." We said our goodbyes and hung up, me somewhat confused. It wasn't that Kathryn hadn't mentioned some business connection, but there was something about the other woman's tone of voice... and that 'purely a professional call' thing? Whatever the case, I wrote a note and left it on Kathryn's desk, knowing that I would probably be gone by the time she got back from class. Which was probably for the best - I think a weekend away from the office (and Kathryn) was probably the smart thing to do.
It was in Alex's handwriting.
Joyce Winters called 1535 re: environ. audit? Said to say it was 'purely professional'?
Damnit. I had been avoiding Joyce's calls all week - I had been worried that she was trying to call for another date or whatever it had been and frankly, that wasn't really something I was able to deal with right now. I supposed I should have been relieved to find that she was just interested in the audit we had discussed, but somehow the fact that she had kept calling and that Alex had spoken to her just made me more antsy.
On an impulse I picked up my phone and dialed Joyce's number, nearly hitting 'end' at the last second but somehow managing to hold on while it rang.
It was answered after only a couple of rings. "Winters speaking."
"Joyce, hi, hello. It's Kathryn, Kathryn Sinclair. From the university."
There was a slight chuckle on the other end of the line. "Ah, Kathryn," came Joyce's pleasant alto. "I take it you got my message?" It was clear what she meant.
"Yes, yes I did. Listen, I'm sorry I haven't spoken to you earlier, I just... things have been swamped here, we've had a special event on, and..." I was suddenly struck with guilt, and I rubbed a hand over my eyes, sighing. "And I was a bit afraid to talk to you. I'm sorry."
That chuckle again. "Well, now you know. No offense, Kathryn, you're gorgeous but I'm not the type to pursue a lost cause. I really do just want to look into making the firm more carbon neutral."
"Yes, I... realize that now. Like an idiot. And again, I'm sorry. Can I make it up to you?"
"You can let me buy you a business dinner."
"That would be great, actually."
"So," Joyce said as we passed our menus back to the waiter. "Let's talk sustainability."
I felt pretty stupid having avoided Joyce for all that time - upon seeing her again we slipped back into that easy, interesting conversation that had characterized most of our first meeting. She had come prepared, with figures and plans, and we spent most of the main course deep in discussion about recycling facilities, travel options and tax incentives.
"Well, it's great to finally meet and get all that hacked out," Joyce said as dessert arrived and we concluded our 'shop talk'. "I began to think those notes of mine were just going to rot in a drawer before you'd call me back."
"I know, I know, I'm sorry... it's been sort of a crazy week," I told her, shaking my head. "Things have gone a bit topsy-turvy since the last time we spoke."
Joyce raised her eyebrows, though in interest rather than surprise it seemed. "Want to talk about it?"
And so we did. I'll admit that it had been part of my motivation for agreeing to dinner; if there was anybody I could talk about these 'issues' with it was the woman who had opened my eyes to them in the first place.
"So this woman... is your assistant, right?" Joyce said, narrowing her eyes slightly. "The one I spoke to on the phone?"
"Alex. Yes. Which is a large part of the issue, I'm sure you'll agree."
"Mm, I suppose. Although office romances, discreetly conducted..."
"It's a bit more than that. I mean, I'm her boss - I don't think any amount of discretion is going to make that acceptable."
"So fire her," Joyce said with a smirk. "Well, don't fire her, but couldn't you... promote her sideways?"
"Yes, but..." I shook my head, spooning up a bite of sorbet. "Maybe if I had any idea what I was doing, but I don't. I didn't even think about this as an actual possibility until last week, for god's sake."
"See, that surprises me," Joyce said with a slight smile. "I mean, the idea that a self-possessed woman like yourself had never given much thought to her own... well, I guess sometimes life just works out that way."
"Even if I had thought about it, it's different when it's a person that I c-- work with. I couldn't just mess her about, and besides - she's the best assistant I've ever had!"
Joyce shot me a thoroughly skeptical smile now. "The best assistant you've ever had - I'll say."
"I just... don't want to lose her," I said, shaking my head. I should've known better than to hope Joyce might be able to suggest a solution to my problems - I was a pretty intelligent person and I couldn't figure a way out of it, so why should she be able to? "There just... isn't a good way out of this, is there?"
"Oh, I wouldn't say that. You never know what might happen," Joyce said, tipping her head to one side sympathetically. "But these things are pretty hard to fix without communication."
"Are you really supposed to be advocating that sort of thing? Don't you get more money if your clients don't talk it out?"
Joyce laughed at this. "Well, that's not really my field of law. Besides, I'm not your solicitor."
"No, just a very patient business associate. I'm sorry to have wasted so much of your time whinging. It's not very fair of me, especially after dodging your phone calls for so long."
"No, no, it's fine - you thought I wanted to jump your bones, I can't blame you for avoiding me."
I laughed. "I was beginning to wonder after the third day - that seemed like an awful lot of work to go to, even for a particularly good lay."
"Which in fairness could only be guesswork - for either of us," Joyce said with a wink.
"God, even moreso on my part."
"Hah, I'm sure you know better than to worry about something like that."
I smiled and shrugged, unsure if 'knowing better' really cancelled out not knowing at all, but Joyce didn't seem to think anything more need be said on that matter, returning my smile and moving on.
"Anyway, it sounds to me as though you've got some hard choices ahead of you either way. Are you sure this assistant thing isn't just your first 'crush', as it were? You could always look out some other pretty young women, get on the 'scene' - in a sophisticated Guardian personals sort of way I mean..."
"I've done my internet dating stint, thank you very much," I replied, shaking my head. "It may work beautifully for some people, but not for me."
"And you're sure you weren't just dipping your toe in the wrong pool?"
"I've always been more of an ocean-swimmer, really."
Joyce raised her eyebrows, her expression amused. "I have no idea where you just took that metaphor but it sounds dirty."
"...you're right, it does. Disregard anything that comes out of my mouth, clearly," I said, smirking.
"Hey, I'm not judging," Joyce said, holding up a hand. "You wanna swim in the ocean, bravo and good luck..."
"I think I might just stick with staying on dry land, for now. At least until I get my head sorted out. No sense plunging in before you know the conditions." Maybe I was overusing the metaphor, but it was helping me figure out a plan of action. Clearly whatever I did or didn't feel for Alex it would be silly to act on it, and possibly ruinous... better to maintain what we did have than push for something I wasn't sure either of us wanted.
"Well." Joyce spoke with a tone of finality, as though she'd decided that we'd achieved whatever it was she'd deemed we should from the conversation. I could imagine her closing on a jury. "Good luck with that, too."
Suddenly life had grown rather boring. It wasn't that anything had changed on the surface, as far as I could tell - work settled back down and I went back to my classes and analysis, Kathryn and I continued to sail every couple of weekends (although we didn't 'borrow' Keith's yacht again), and I slowly got used to being single again. My social life became a little banal as I politely avoided events that Debbie would be attending - I felt I owed her that - but all-in-all that wasn't so bad, either, and it wasn't though I had been a social butterfly to start with.
In some ways it felt like I had just woken up from a very vivid dream: the Summit, my relationship with Debbie, the strange and not completely unreciprocated feelings for Kathryn... I remembered them all but as time went on they got less and less real, until I could almost convince myself that I hadn't had a job I loved, a pretty and pleasant girlfriend, a boss who tied my stomach in knots whenever I saw her.
Well, that last bit wasn't completely gone, I suppose. But the... dangerous... edge to it, the feeling that it might tip over into something else, something new and scary, had. I still felt that ache sometimes when she smiled in my direction, or we passed too close on a corridor. But the spark had gone. It was something safely packed away, and certainly I never again got any sense from Kathryn that she either acknowledged or returned my feelings.
And that was for the best - or at least, that's what I told myself. I had never been that good at lying, though, and my mood began to slump again. Not below what it had been before I moved to [place], but I was getting restless again.
Maybe it was the universe listening in, then, that made the perfect opportunity present itself. Not that I realized it at the time - all I got then was a somewhat terse email from Kathryn asking me to report to her office as soon as I could.
She looked thoroughly as I knocked and let myself in to her office, sifting through what looked to be an awful lot of new paperwork that had found its way directly onto her desk - curious, as usually any documentation would pass through me first. She did nod to the chair in front of her, though, and so I sat down rather tentatively.
"So, as you know, from time to time the department is called to do fieldwork," she launched into straightaway. "Sometimes for research, occasionally for profit."
"Um, yes..." I did, of course - and indeed we'd had a little earlier in the year, but I was rarely called upon to actually go to the field myself as all my work was done with samples brought back to the lab. So I was a little confused.
"Well, a few months ago I applied for a grant from (some place) and it's just come through." At this she couldn't help the small smile that grew on her lips. "Once the academic year winds down I'll be leading a group in Brazil."
"Ah." I could help it, for all that I'd come to terms with the new way of things, my heart plummeted into my stomach at the thought of a summer without Kathryn.
"It's been too long since I've had a chance to do any fieldwork, and there's a site that needs a follow-up study done. So I'm going, and I'd like you to come with me."
I blinked. "To Brazil?"
"Where else?"
My heart was back in my throat again. "Er, right. I mean, great!" I said, stammering a little now. "Who else will you be taking along?"
She named a few other people from the department, none of them too surprising. The only person I was surprised she was bringing was me.
"Right, well," I began now, trying to sound less shocked and more businesslike than I felt. "So what do we need to do about visas and so on? Obviously you're welcome to pass me any paperwork if Sarah's going to be too busy - it being the end of the year and all..."
"I'll check with her and forward on if need be, but she's pretty good about this sort of stuff; she has her own 'system' and everything," Kathryn said with a grin. "You just worry about what to do with your flat for the summer, mm?"
"Wow... yeah. God. For how long?"
"Oh... about two months, I'd imagine? I don't have the exact dates yet."
I nodded, still not quite taking it all in. "Right. Right. Well... I guess I'd better renew my passport."
Kathryn chuckled, nodding. "Probably a good idea. And buy some sunscreen."
"Brazil? You're shitting me..." Lynn was suitably shocked, it seemed.
"Um... nope. Brazil." I was trying to keep my grin in check - once the surprise had worn off I'd begun to become pretty excited. Now I was just waiting for the abject terror to set in.
"Wow. For the whole summer? That's like... that's amazing, Lex. A tropical holiday and you're getting paid for it? Wow."
"Well, in fairness there won't be much 'holidaying' per se," I said. "We'll probably be spending most of it sweating away in a hut in the middle of a rainforest..."
"You and Professor Hot-as-Sinclair, I know." Lynn smirked, reaching for the whisky bottle. "Sounds like paradise."
I made a face. "God, I wish you hadn't reminded me of that..."
"Oh, but it's exciting! For me, at least."
"You're planning to live vicariously through my unrequited obsession?"
"Hell no - I'm going to be living through my own hookups and love affairs. But, y'know, I want to hear about your thing too. Especially if it ever becomes requited..."
"Hah, yeah, that's never going to happen. I don't know what I was on before when I thought maybe..."
"Wait, excuse me?" Lynn caught my uncertainty and latched on. "You thought she might fancy you back? And you didn't tell me? Lex, for shame! What happened? Tell me everything!"
"No, no, it was nothing like that!" I frowned. "I just... It was ages ago, during the Summit? And it was nothing - we were pretty drunk, and sort of high on how well it had all gone, and she... hugged me, that's all. And I dunno, I thought for a second... but she's been totally normal since, I mean, nothing. It was in my head, for sure."
"Or she was waiitng on you to make the move and you blew it! C'mon, Lex... waitaminute." Lynn's expression grew suspicious. "The Summit... wasn't that when you were still with Debbie?"
I hoped that my face didn't register the pang of guilt I immediately felt. "Well, yet another reason why I couldn't have acted on anything, even if it had been real."
"Wow, that's so... romantic," Lynn sighed.
I made a face. "What?"
"You know... two people, kept apart by all these things... it's romantic!"
"Well, except that we're not 'kept apart' - I'm a moron and she's not interested."
"Oh, whatever, " she said, waving a hand dismissively. "You don't know that. And now you're going to get a chance to find out!"
"It's work, Lynn..."
"Hot, sweaty work. In a jungle. For two months!"
I rolled my eyes and shook my head. There was just no arguing with Lynn.
"Georgie! Georgie, would you pay attention to where you're putting your feet!"
"Sorry, sorry Prof..."
We were halfway through the trek to our camp and I was already regretting some of my choices. Not Jonas - he always traveled with me and was a more seasoned hand at this than many of my employees. And not Alex - she had been just about the only person keeping me sane, especially when the postgrads couldn't keeping their feet off the local flora.
They were making things worse, now, 'Tim' the painfully English public schoolboy, complete with his transformation into a shaggy haired, beads-wearing hippie had tramped across yet more delicate undergrowth to help Georgie out of the knee-deep mud she'd found her way into.
"Oh for f-" I bit back the profanity for Jonas's sake. "We went over of this before we started, people - one foot in front of the other and stay on the path. It's that simple!"
"Sorry, I'm sorry, I just-"
"Just stay still, okay?" Alex - Alex, my saviour, Alex, who must have saved me from killing these ingrates a hundred times in the past fortnight - was on her way over, picking her way carefully through the forest floor toward the two students.
I watched as she helped Georgie extract herself from the mud, a hand held out to keep Tim from wading any closer and getting himself stuck as well (as he surely would). Then, like ducklings they followed her back to the path, avoiding any delicate plant life and managing not to fall over or otherwise injure themselves by the time they merged with the rest of the group.
Alex shot me a slight smile, rolling her eyes, but said nothing as she shouldered her pack (which she'd handed to Jonas for her rescue) and took her place back in our little caravan.
"Okay people, stick to the path," I said, turning back to our guide and giving him a nod. With a patient grin he turned and headed off again, group in tow.
The run-up to the expedition had gone by in a blur. There had been final papers to mark and grades to submit as well as all the paperwork and preparation that the trip had required, and I felt as if I was lucky if I got five hours' sleep a night. Alex had been by my side through it all, pulling her weight and then some, proving once again how invaluable she was as an assistant and friend.
And she was no less useful now. Despite having less field experience than some of the postgrads on my team, she had picked up the ins and outs of rainforest expeditions in no time, aceing the training we'd had (well, not that there was a test) and, after that short period of shellshock everyone goes through their first time in a jungle, she was quickly becoming a pro. Which was just as well, since my patience was wearing thin and if it had been up to me I would've sent them back to the village we had started from ages ago. I could only look forward to watching them try to gather samples with as little disruption to the natural environment as possible; with my luck they'd probably endanger a few species before dinnertime.
"Mum, I think this thing's defective. I can't get a signal."
"There aren't satellites overhead 24/7, Jonas. You're just going to have to be patient, okay?"
"What the hell am I supposed to do while you two-" At a stern look from both of us, he shut up. "Heck," he added quietly.
Alex shot me a sidelong smirk. I returned the look before turning back to my son, canvas bag slung over my shoulder. "Have a wander, go explore, take your camera and get some pictures. I promise that as soon as we're set up here we can get the generator going and charge your batteries. Until then you'll have to entertain yourself. Deal?"
"Have a... wander? Out there? Are you mentally ill?"
"Yes, Jonas, I am. Early-onset dementia. I'm afraid in a few months I'll be dotty as a fruit bat, so you have that to look forward to."
"I'm not going out there to be eaten by a billion angry insects."
"Okay, then set up your chair..." I glanced around. "Over there. Under the tree. You can hang your netting up from one of the branches."
Jonas rolled his eyes. "Fine, fine, I know when I'm wanted rid of," he said with a dark look. I waited for him to stomp off (avoiding any delicate-looking plants along the way) before turning back to Alex and heaving a beleaguered sigh.
"Where were we?"
Alex's lips twitched with amusement. "You aren't worried he's going to go off and get eaten?"
"Truth be told, I'm more worried about Georgie and Tim getting eaten than I am Jonas," I said, rolling my eyes
"Truth be told I wouldn't miss 'em."
"Yes, but who would gather our samples then?"
Alex chuckled. "Fair enough, fair enough."
"Anyway, we had best get cracking. You okay with that?" I asked, motioning to the bulky laptop case balanced against her leg.
"Of course. Let's fire it up."
I was amazed at the transformation that had overtaken the small camp - when we had arrived, it had just been a small bare patch in the middle of a wild and rampant jungle. Now, with its small, cozy circle of tents and a modest, eco-friendly fire going in the center (which Kathryn assured me would not be happening every night, but was tradition at least for now) it looked... welcoming.
Now, though, I'd turned away, my back warmed by the fire as I looked out into the dark beyond the edge of the fire's light. I felt a presence by my side, and I knew immediately, even with the suffocating profusion of scents and sounds around us, that it was Kathryn. "It's beautiful," I murmured.
"I'm glad you like it, since you're stuck here for the next two months," she said, chuckling. "Think it'll still look beautiful then?"
"I'm sure it will," I turned to where Kathryn had sat beside me, facing the other direction, in toward the campfire, twisted round to look at me.
She smiled at me. "Well, good."
Beautiful as the rainforest was, it was, in the ultimate cliché, Kathryn's smile that made me melt. "I, um... well, today seemed to go well enough," I said.
"Getting in is never easy, but you're right, it went relatively smoothly. Except for Tim dropping the assay kit and nearly costing us several hundred pounds and a trip back out..."
"But he didn't - I guess that's the important thing. And what's a few hundred pounds of equipment between friends?"
"Very funny," she said, leaning over to bump my shoulder with her own. "As long as that's not your motto."
"I don't have a motto yet," I said, shifting a little round to face her better, "unless you count-" I broke off as I shifted my hand and it came to rest over hers - quelling the instinct to snatch it away (because God knows what message that would send) and trying instead for a slight grin as I moved it. "Sorry," I muttered.
"Mm, that's a pretty rubbish motto. I'd keep looking if I were you," she said with a smirk.
"Hah, it's funny you should say that," I returned with a chuckle, glad not for the first time for the blush-hiding properties of nighttime. "That was what I was going to say. 'Keep looking'."
"For what?"
"Everything," I said with a slight shrug. "I mean, until you find it."
"Ah. Well, I suppose that's better than 'give up and hide under the duvet'," Kathryn teased. "So I'll let it pass."
"Oh, believe me," I said with a rueful grin, "I end up doing just that as often as not."
"Well, no duvets out here," she pointed out.
"Oh don't think that'll stop me," I said with a grin. "My sleeping bag zips completely shut."
She laughed again, leaning forward to rest her elbows on her knees and looking across the fire, where Tim had brought out his guitar and was enthusiastically (and slightly tunelessly) strumming it as Jonas peppered him with questions about whether he knew this song or that song. "Fair enough. I guess we all need to hide sometimes."
"Mm." There was a silence between us, punctuated by Tim's rendition of some nineties indie hit. "Why didn't we tell him he couldn't bring that thing?" I murmured eventually.
"Because of the ultimate irony when we bludgeon him over the head with it in a month's time?"
I chuckled. "Fair enough. Then we can convert it into a nurse tree, leave them both to be eaten by the forest..."
"I like the way you think. You'll make an excellent partner in crime."
"I thought I already was - piracy, remember?"
"Ah, but now we've gone international. So much more exciting, don't you think?"
=I smiled a little again, turning back away from Kathryn to look back out into the jungle. My night vision had been ruined by the campfire light and now all I could see off ahead was blackness, the shafts of moonlight ceasing to penetrate through the heavy canopy just a few yards out of our little clearing. "Pretty exciting," I murmured quietly.
The campfire hadn't lasted too much longer. Though it felt like we were on holiday, it was the kind of holiday where you get up early (to beat the muggy, sticky heat) and go to bed early as well (so you can get up early the next morning).
Kathryn, Jonas and I shared a large five man tent - one of those all-weather shield-bug-shaped things you can basically stand up in. Everyone else slept in smaller, more practical affairs, but our 'vestibule' housed our tiny portable lab.
There was several thousand pounds' worth of equipment in there with us, since for some reason getting stuff that could stand up to rainforest humidity and rough conditions just about doubled the price. As such, only Kathryn, Jonas and myself were allowed in there unsupervised, and Jonas only on strict instructions to touch nothing - and teenager though he was, he knew better than to argue on this point.
As we zipped up in our bags for the night I pondered the fact that I was now falling asleep next to Kathryn, and would be for the next few months. Not that this was the very first time such a thing had happened - she had fallen asleep on the plane ride over and briefly rested her head on my shoulder and although it left me with a numb shoulder and a crick in my neck I think it was hands-down my favourite part of the trip over, sitting there with her soft, shallow breathing audible to my ear, the delicate scent of her skin and shampoo resting at the edge of my senses.
Now of course there was the smell of bugspray and tents and sleeping bags, all those distinctive yet undefinable aromas of camping that you recognised instantly but couldn't place. But still, with Jonas determinedly claiming his own compartment (his philosophy that if he wasn't allowed to touch anything in the vestibule he at least 'deserved his own space') we were in the other, a square, airy space - at least when compared to the poke tents everyone else was inhabiting. I supposed that we were rather priveleged really, and yet, lying here next to Kathryn on our low cots, only perhaps a couple of feet between us, literally within my reach and yet figuratively so far out of it, it felt really rather crowded.
I didn't sleep much the first night in camp. I rarely did, on trips like this... despite the fact that this was technically the culmination of months of planning it still felt like there was so much to do, so many things to think about. Plans for the next day, establishing a schedule, occupying Jonas, and of course there was Alex.
Alex. The godsend who had kept me together throughout this whole ordeal. It wasn't that I was used to having someone do everything for me - when I was with Keith we shared duties, but it was I who was meticulously organized, who dealt with the details and the annoying postgrads and kept everyone in line. But somehow, now, I didn't have to, because she was there for me, quietly and efficiently making things better so that I didn't have to worry about them.
Which, of course, made her the perfect assistant. But that wasn't all. As my eyes adjusted to the dark of the tent interior, I found myself looking across at her as she slept. She lay on her back with her head turned toward me, sleeping bag already unzipped down around her waist in the rapidly warming tent interior, her thin teeshirt clinging to her lean, solid figure, and I found myself having thoughts that I had never before had for an assistant (mine or anyone else's). Despite my solemn vow to behave 'appropriately' and not to invite trouble, it was getting very hard indeed to ignore the fact that the things I had felt for Alex were not just idle musings... they were still very present and very pervasive. Not to mention distracting.
The rainforest is never really properly silent - there's always the sound of insects, of rustlings and tappings and chirrupings and burrowings, and the longer you lie in the dark the louder they sound. That, of course, added to the very quite, tinny little beeping of Jonas's iPod, which he'd left in his ears playing music to keep him from being kept awake by exactly those rainforest sounds. None of those things was as distracting as the knowledge that Alex was slumbering peacefully just a few feet away, and would be for the next few months until we went home or I went insane from longing and went to sleep among the jungle plants.
I think I got about four hours' sleep in the end - enough for now, but not going forward. I hoped feverishly that the combined effects of my usual nerves with Alex's presence would lessen sooner rather than later, as I had no wish to end up making myself ill from sleep loss on this excursion.
Luckily, things settled in well enough, even with my slightly sleep-deprived supervision. Tim and Georgie were kitted out with their sample kits and and given grids of nearby spaces (and warned strenuously that if I found footprints they would be feeling my wrath) and sent off to begin collecting. Alex was setting up her workstation, getting the small generator running for power and somehow also managing to keep Jonas occupied helping with cables and fetching and carrying while I set up my own workspace, complete with records of my last trip several years ago and and all the necessary data to make comparisons with once Alex's analysis was done.
We took a break during the hottest part of the day (another reason this expedition was going to take longer than usual), sitting in the shade sipping lukewarm water and discussing our expected findings. Mercifully, Tim and Georgie were a little less incompetent when it came to work, and we'd made reasonable progress, so Alex would have plenty to be going on with in the afternoon.
My main worry now was occupying Jonas - though he was used to these expeditions, he was still a thirteen year-old boy, and the Amazon rainforest had little in the way of X-boxes and flat-screen TVs. Perhaps it had been selfish of me to insist that he come along, at least for part of the summer, but I couldn't stand the idea of not seeing him for several months so close to our last separation.
Jonas, however, seemed remarkably interested in Alex's work - moreso than he ever had been in Keira's, and to my surprise, amusement and delight Alex somehow managed to turn him into a sort of runner-slash-lab-assistant - she had him fetching and carrying at first but by the end of the day's work he was prepping samples in his own pair of latex gloves, shaggy hair held back from his face with one of my plain toothed alice-bands, his face a picture of fierce concentration as he debagged mosses and lichens with the same meticulous care as a nervous undergrad on their first big assignment.
Everybody was back in camp by the time the first rumble of thunder warned us of the oncoming rainstorm. Though we had set up as many shelters as we could in the clearing it was a tough task staying dry in the downpour, and I knew it wouldn't be long before we all felt soaked to the skin most of the time.
Jonas immediately retired to 'his space' and I could soon hear the sounds of his Nintendo DS, bought specially for this trip out of his own allowance, and I figured it was probably safe to assume he wouldn't be back any time soon. Alex had turned off and covered all of our electrical equipment just to be on the safe side, but continued scribbling in what I had assumed at first to be her field notebook until I caught a glance over her shoulder and saw, rather than her usual neat sketches and bullet points, that she had obviously shifted to a different notebook in which she appeared to be writing in neat continuous prose.
"I didn't know you kept a diary," I remarked, settling cross-legged on my cot.
Alex glanced up from where she was sitting in her own cot quickly, apparently surprised that I'd noticed her writing. "Oh, um. Well, I don't. Didn't." She shrugged. "I thought it would be a good idea while we were over here. Keep me sane."
"Or at least document your descent into insanity," I joked. "Either way it's a good idea."
Alex shot me one of those smiles where she met my eyes and my stomach twisted. "For when they find it, battered and bloodstained, floating down the river?"
It took me a moment to gather myself enough to speak. "Mm, let's hope not, eh?"
"Well, you're in charge," she said, raising an eyebrow.
"And don't you forget it. If you don't want to be on the menu when we all resort to cannibalism you had best get on my good side now!"
"Wow, that's a good point," she deadpanned. "What do I have to do?"
"Well, you have to work for me, for a start," I said, smirking. "Dealing with students and crunching data and any other inane task I come up with."
"Hm, okaay..." Alex said, a slight smirk appearing. "I think I could manage that... anything else?"
"Well, you'll have to be prepared to fly to exotic locales at the drop of a hat - or with a few months' notice. Once you're there you'll have to deal with more students, plus a sullen and cranky teenager, not to mention mosquitos the size of your hand."
"Wow. I mean, you implied this was going to be hard..."
I'm sure it wasn't her intention for her playful tone to sound flirtatious, but somehow that's what I heard, and of course it only encouraged me further. "Well, I haven't told you the worst part yet. You'll have to pretend to be my friend and spend time with me and laugh at all my jokes."
"Ah." At this Alex adopted an expression of deep sadness, shaking her head slowly. "I was with you to there. Sorry, I'd better get back to civilisation. If only you were witty, intelligent, kind... I mean, even if we had a hobby in common or something..."
My stomach flipped again at her compliments, and I had to shift ton my cot, throwing my legs over the side. "Ah well. It could've been a beautiful partnership."
Our fictitious job appraisal over, Alex seemed to eschew any final comeback, and yet she didn't look away from me, pen in hand still poised above the journal sitting in her lap as she... observed me, in silence, her gaze steady and penetrating.
The rain outside showed no sign of letting up, but I suddenly needed to be anywhere but in that small section of tent and stood abruptly, smoothing my damp palms over my shorts. "Well, um, I had better go check on Georgie and Tim, see how their first day went..."
"You'll get soaked..."
It's better than staying in here. I grinned wryly. "Welcome to the rainforest."
I waited until I heard the zipper close behind Kathryn as she left the tent before relaxing - slumping, really, a curse escaping my lips. This had started off easy - so much to do, so little time to ourselves - but it was getting harder. Kathryn was in her element here, out in the wilds, doing what she entered this field to do, and it made her more irresistable than ever.
It wasn't just the sensible vests and cargo shorts, though she wore them better than anyone I had ever seen before. It was her passion for the beautiful place we were staying and her dedication to documenting as much as she could in order to preserve it. Even her short temper with Georgie and Tim was born of a desire to protect; she clearly considered our presence to be incredibly important and it made me feel good that she had wanted me there too.
I lay back on my cot, making a face as I felt that the mattress no longer felt dry, the humidity having settled on it even zipped away in here from the forest outside. My hair was clinging to my forehead and neck in damp tendrils already and I was very glad that it wasn't any longer.
Just then Jonas unzipped his section of the tent; we hadn't quite worked out a system for our 'rooms' but luckily nothing disastrous had occurred yet. "Where'd my mum go?"
"Went to talk to Georgie and Tim," I murmured, "why?"
"Dunno," he said with a shrug. "Just wondered. It's still raining out."
"Yep. Want a couple of rounds of Shithe- Danish?"
He grinned and unzipped the section more fully. "Sure. Shithead it is."
We were still playing, having abandoned Danish and moved onto Spit, sitting crosslegged opposite one another on the groundsheet, when Kathryn returned. She was, not surprisingly, soaked through, and she drew shouts of protest as she leaned forward and squeezed her dripping hair over her son's head.
"Jesus Christ, mum!" he protested, jumping to his feet.
"Sorry, love - it's a bit wet out there," she said with a grin. "What are you two playing?"
"Spit," I offered, but Jonas was already waving his hand, scowling as he turned to make his way back through into his 'room'.
"I'm going to go play my DS," he said.
"Have fun!" Kathryn called, plopping down on the ground next to her cot and reaching for a small towel she had folded underneath. "Teenagers. You've got to love them."
"...Or you'll axe-murder them?" I grinned, pushing to my feet and sitting back down on the bed. "You really are soaked," I said then, my eyes trailing of their own accord over the sight of Kathryn literally dripping wet, her clothes clinging to her in ways that were doing nothing to help my permanent fight against my obsession.
"Well," she replied with a shrug, "you get used to it. Though I understand if you don't want to venture out in it just yet."
"I... think I'll stay here for now. At least until I have to leave for food," I said with a chuckle as my stomach grumbled.
"Ah, well, it should be over soon. Until it starts again."
I smirked a little. "I knew I should've brought more books."
"There's always cards..."
"Y'know, I think I played myself out of Shithead on that ferry trip..."
Kathryn chuckled, tossing the towel over her head and rubbing at her hair vigorously. "Fair enough."
"I guess I could get really good at building card houses," I said, my eyes following every movement. With her arms raised over her head it was difficult not to look at her breasts, and it wasn't like she could catch me doing it...
"Don't worry," she assured me, still under the towel. "I'll work you hard enough that you'll be glad of the break."
"Mhm?" Her shirt was still clinging to her front, still damp along with the sports bra beneath it. I could even see a hint of the outline of her nipples, presumably due to the water being cool even in this stifling heat... I squirmed. Suddenly a cold shower didn't sound like such a bad idea...
"I envision a lot of afternoon naps," she said, dropping the towel to her lap suddenly and grinning at me. Was I blushing? I was tingling from head to foot but in this heat I couldn't tell. I hoped she couldn't either.
"Not the worst plan I've heard," I murmured. I hadn't slept well at all the previous night - I'd lain still, eyes closed, scared to toss and turn and risk waking Kathryn but unable to sleep with her lying, so close and yet, as the saying has it, so far.
"Well then. If you want to get one now I'll wake you when dinner's ready," she offered, raising her eyebrows.
Now that I'd thought about it I did feel pretty tired. "Do you think that would be okay? I should really help prep food..."
"No, no need. We've got plenty of hands. You get some rest, okay?"
And somehow, I did. Something about lying in the tent with Kathryn pottering around, packing or unpacking or repacking this and that, checking over notes, moving equipment, was relaxing where lying in a cot next to her had been excruciating, and despite (or perhaps because of) the rain battering down outside, I actually managed to fall asleep.
I let Alex sleep until Tim started spooning dinner onto our respective plates; he had been slightly less successful than Alex in getting Jonas to help out but we had still managed to get things done in good time.
Now that she was asleep, Alex was apparently out for the count, and didn't wake even when I re-entered our little alcove without making any attempts to be quiet. Approaching her cot, I stood over it for a moment, just looking down at her. Her expression was peaceful and relaxed, and I felt reluctant to wake her up. It was important we all stayed on relatively the same schedule, however, and so I leaned over and placed a hand on her arm, giving it a light squeeze. "Alex, dinner's on..."
She stirred, smiling, and she lifted the hand that had lain beside her head to rest over mine, and my knees almost melted away, leaving me in a puddle on the floor. I cleared my throat. "Um. Alex... time to wake up."
Her fingers curled around mine, and her eyelids fluttered, and then she was looking up at me, eyes dark, face flushed from sleep and the warmth of the tent. She didn't move for a long moment, her expression a mixture of confusion, and something else that I couldn't quite pin down. Then she released my hand, shifting away to sit up. "Thanks," she murmured, attempting no explanation for what had just occurred.
"That's... fine. Just, ah... when you're ready." And with that I turned, hurrying out of the tent back to the small table which held our dinner.
By the time she followed me out I had regained my composure, although it was still hard to keep from watching her as she retrieved her plate and went to take a seat on one of the logs around the (currently unlit) campfire. She was still slightly sluggish from sleep (it always took longer to clear your head in this humidity), her movements slow and deliberate, her hair touseled and her cheeks rosy. Jonas joined her not long after, coming to slouch on the log beside her. It made me smile to see them, shoulder to shoulder, spooning up their pasta and tuna in companionable silence.
Georgie sat down next to me over our meal, nearly talking my ear off about the various samples she'd found that day, despite the fact that, obviously, I'd reviewed everything already. I found myself getting more and more annoyed by her presence, which wasn't fair - she was enthusiastic, which was usually something I was glad of in my expedition companions. The more I thought about it, the more I realized my annoyance wasn't anything to do with Georgie personally (or Tim, or his guitar), but the fact that they were intruding on what I wanted this expedition to be. Which was namely, time alone with Alex.
I tried to shake off the sentiment, reminding myself that that wasn't why we were here - indeed, when I had first applied for the funding to come here I hadn't even met Alex yet never mind fallen for her.
After dinner we were serenaded yet again by Tim; I retired to my cot to read, wondering if it would be impolitic to stuff my ears with cotton wool. Shortly I heard the tent zipper and I wasn't sure whether I wanted it to be Alex or Jonas, but I heard some rustling of paper on the work surface we'd set up and realised it had to be the former.
Instead of striking up a conversation I stayed quiet; there wasn't much to say, really - at least, nothing that wouldn't muddy the waters further. I pretended to be absorbed in my book, though at least half my attention went to listening to Alex's movements and trying to figure out what she was doing at any given moment.
Eventually, she reappeared in our little alcove, stepping through the hanging mosquito net (the third of three between the outside of the tent and our sleeping quarters) and stooping to recover her diary from the floor before sitting back on her bed. She didn't say anything either.
Light faded quickly in the rainforest and before long it grew too dim to read or write inside the tent without a little illumination. I stood, crossing to where the small but powerful battery-operated lantern was hung and switching it on. Alex shifted, lifting her head from her book (she'd now finished with her diary it seemed) to smile up at me.
"Any good?" I asked then, feeling like I should fill the silence somehow.
"Hm? Oh..." Alex glanced at the front of her book as though she wasn't even sure what she was reading. "Not terrible, I suppose," she said. "Airport trash."
"Well, whatever passes the time," I said with a grin. "Maybe when you're finished we can swap."
"Why, what are you reading?" Alex asked with eyebrows raised.
My grin turned into a smirk as I motioned toward the biodiversity textbook for which I had written a chapter. They had sent me a proof version just before leaving. "Tempting, I know..."
Alex chuckled. "Oh God, hold me back..."
"Hey, finish your 'trash' first. No edification for you until you do."
"Hah, is that an attempt to mother me? If so, I can understand why Jonas loves you so much..."
"Or at least tolerates me," I said with a chuckle, sitting back on my cot.
"Oh, no," Alex said, shaking her head and turning onto her side on her own bed to continue to face me as I sat down. "I've watched him - for all his teenaged grumping he obviously thinks you're the best mum in the world ever. And with good reason."
"You mean your parents never took you to Brazil on your summer holidays?" I asked, slightly embarrassed and yet glowing from Alex's praise.
"No. And particularly not to a rainforest. We never stole a yacht, either."
"Well, to be fair, neither did we..."
Alex's eyes narrowed at this, pushing up onto an elbow. "You got Keith's permission, didn't you? I knew it!"
"Yes, well, however much water is under the bridge between us I didn't want to give him any chance to gather incriminating evidence against me," I said, spreading my hands innocently.
My assistant laughed, and my stomach fluttered. "Well, fair enough, I suppose. No point giving him ammunition."
"Exactly. Besides, it wasn't only the thought of doing something illegal that made it fun, was it?"
"Mm, no," Alex said, and perhaps it was my imagination in the dim light of the tent but it seemed as though her smile turned a little wistful. "It wasn't."
I had to admit that I felt a little wistful myself, thinking back on the weekend. I couldn't help but remember Alex's emotional distress, however and for some reason (I blame the heat) this made me blurt out "So what does Debbie think of you being here?"
Alex blinked, and I could tell that were she not in such a relaxed position she would have started. She shifted to lie on her back, silent for a long moment, before she said, in a tone that was carefully free of modulation. "We... don't really spend much time together right at the moment. We've actually broken up."
"Oh, I'm... sorry," I replied, feeling anything but. "I didn't know. I didn't mean to... I'm sorry I brought it up." Except I had no idea not to, because she hadn't told me. How long ago had they broken up? And why hadn't she mentioned it?
"No, no, it's fine..." Alex waved a hand to dismiss my apology. "It was inevitable really."
"But I thought you two..." What? Were meant to be? Were going to last forever? Let's face it, Alex never exactly gushed about her... "...were getting on really well," I finished lamely.
"Oh, we did. But..." She shrugged, although the main effect of this, with her lying on her back, was a slight shift of her chest. "We were only ever content," she finished eventually. "Just... treading water 'til something better came along, you know?"
"And something did, did it?" For some reason my chest tightened as I spoke, and I had to fight to swallow past a sudden lump in my throat.
"What? Oh..." Still Alex didn't look over at me. "Well, that's not really what I meant," she said in that carefully expressionless tone. "That's just... not really the sort of relationship I want to be in. You know?"
"It's not the kind that Keith wanted, certainly," I managed, looking down at my hands.
"Hm?" Alex turned her head, now, to look at me. "What d'you mean?"
"Well. His 'something better' came along, and he was out of there as quickly as he could be."
"Ah. And you?"
I shrugged, not sure I really wanted to follow this avenue of conversation any further. "I don't have better. I just have nothing."
At this, Alex looked away again, rolling back onto her back. There was a slight tapping on the roof of the tent - it was beginning to rain again.
I very nearly didn't speak again; this wasn't a good idea, especially when I knew Jonas was bound to come back at any moment, but I couldn't help but feel I had given her the wrong impression. "I don't mean - I'm sure you did the right thing. With Debbie. And anyway, it's your business. I'm sorry I pried."
"No, no, it's fine. I don't know why I didn't tell you before, really - it just didn't seem... important."
"That's... fine. Really." I glanced up and tried to give a reassuring smile in Alex's direction; it probably looked more like a death grin. I was glad she still wasn't looking.
The rain continued on through the rest of the evening and into the night. Kathryn seemed to have decided that silence was the best policy following our somewhat uncomfortable conversation. I don't know why I hadn't told her that I'd broken up with Debbie. I mean, it was because it shouldn't be important, but still, you do tell a friend that stuff. I suppose I was paranoid that it would seem forced somehow, that I'd somehow betray myself.
Instead, it just ended up with a different kind of awkwardness, with Kathryn probably thinking I was just like Keith, obsessed with my own happiness with no regards for other people's. This wasn't the way I wanted her to think of me, but it felt like any further explanations would only muddle things further.
Nonetheless, we were mostly far too busy over the next week to spend much time brooding. Soon the samples Georgie and Tim had collected began to stack up and I developed a backlog, meaning that even rainstorms could now be spend prepping samples for analysis.
I had both Jonas and Kathryn helping me, and we got quite a lot of work done before the first trip back to the village had to happen. We needed to get more fuel for the generator, as well as more food (we had sacrificed bringing in more food in order to carry necessary equipment), in addition, Jonas would be leaving us, heading for a plane home to the UK - six months messing about all over Chile with reliable net access and other kids his age was one thing, but more than a fortnight in a rainforest with nothing but his DS and rapidly more repetitive field work was a bit much.
I could tell Kathryn was slightly upset; for all that she tried to play the 'cool mum' it couldn't be easy sending Jonas away. We packed up our day packs and set out early in the morning, leaving Georgie and Tim in charge of the camp until we returned. Jonas was in... moderate spirits - he was obviously relieved to be getting away, but reluctant to leave his mother, and certainly reluctant to show his relief in front of her.
"So you were getting pretty good on Tim's guitar there," she was saying as we picked our way along the path. "Do you think you'd like to take lessons back home?"
"Really?" Jonas looked mildly surprised at this, then his eyes narrowed. "Wait, would I have to learn to play classical stuff?"
"Do you want to learn to play classical stuff? Some of it's pretty good, y'know..."
"Yeah, not really. I mean, some of it's okay, but I want to learn to play like Pearl Jam and stuff..."
"Well, okay, we'll find you a teacher who can teach you to play stuff like that," she said, glancing over her shoulder with a smile.
I assume Jonas, tramping along in front of me, smiled back. I know I was captivated, even though the smile wasn't directed at me.
We made good time on the journey - it was much easier without lugging crates of equipment or bulky tents on our backs. Kathryn made sure we all drank enough water and had dried fruit snacks readily available, which only made Jonas rhapsodise loudly about all the junk food he was looking forward to eating when he got back to 'civilization'.
When we arrived back at the village I quickly made myself scarce, heading over to where we'd stored our extra supplies to load us up for the walk back to camp, leaving Kathryn and Jonas to say their own goodbyes.
"Mum?"
Jonas and I were seated side-by-side on a bench in the shade of the village store - waiting for his taxi. Alex was still off loading supplies, and our 'taxi' - the tiny, dusty bus that would take Jonas back to a more major town - hadn't arrived yet. I could hear Adriano, the guide I'd hired to see Jonas safely onto a plane home, inside the store haggling with the proprietor.
"Yes, Jo?" I asked, glancing down at him with an eyebrow raised.
"Alex is pretty cool, isn't she?"
I blinked; this hadn't been exactly what I had been expecting. "Yeah, she is," I agreed, nodding.
"She's... probably the best assistant you've had," Jonas said then. I could tell he was choosing his words carefully.
"I think so too. I'm glad you like her."
"Yeah." There was another long silence during which Jonas fiddled with the settings on his iPod. "Keira's okay too," he said eventually.
I was glad he wasn't looking at me, since my expression probably looked more shocked than he thought the statement warranted. "...good. That's good. I'm glad."
"Yeah, I mean. She's nice and everything. Kinda... old. I mean, I know she's not, but sometimes she acts older than you." He paused. "I think maybe she just doesn't really know how to treat kids."
"Well, kids are a bit weird," I said, leaning sideways and bumping him with a shoulder, grinning. "I'm sure she'll figure it out eventually. Probably by the time you're not a kid anymore."
"Mm. Yeah, well. I think I prefer the way Alex does it. She doesn't patronise me."
"I know. And I'm... really glad you two get along." Even though it makes things harder for me. "If you like, we could... hang out with her more when we get back."
Jonas glanced at me and for just a second I wondered just how much he saw, how much that sharp mind of him processed, even at his age. "Yeah," he said, shrugging. "Sure. Cool. Whatever."
"Great. Cool. Okay." At that I reached out and put an arm around him, just briefly, and he leaned in and rested his head on my shoulder for a moment. I wasn't entirely sure what conversation we'd just had, but it seemed that I had performed adequately nonetheless, which was about the best one could hope for with teenagers, it seemed.
When I got back to the store, one heavily loaded rucksack on my back and the other, for Kathryn, dragging behind me on its tiny wheels, bouncing and scraping across the dusty track, Jonas and Adriano were gone, and Kathryn was having some sort of animated discussion in Portuguese with the storekeeper, both of them grinning and waving their hands as they spoke.
She glanced over as soon as I entered and winked before turning back to the conversation. It finished a moment later and she bid him goodbye (I assume) and turned back to me. "Is that everything, then?" she asked with a grin.
"Yep - had to make some tough choices but I think that's pretty much all we need for now," I said, dragging the second pack round in front of me and proferring its handle to Kathryn. "So how many languages do you speak?"
"Oh, you know, just the normal ones," she said with a shrug.
"Which are..."
"French, Spanish, Portuguese - which is pretty similar to Spanish to be honest, a couple local dialects here and there..."
I nodded, unable to prevent a smirk from spreading across my face.
Kathryn noticed it right away. "What?"
"Oh, nothing," I said. "Just... y'know. People are reasonably impressed with me when I can only speak conversational French."
"I didn't know you spoke French," Kathryn said, raising her eyebrows.
"I didn't know you spoke French, Spanish, Portuguese and a couple of local dialects," I countered, my smirk turning into a grin. I bent a little to lift her rucksack up for her to turn and slide her arms into it.
Kathryn turned, stooping a bit and spreading her arms to help the pack on. I slipped the straps over her hands one at a time, trying not to inhale the scent of skin and bug spray and failing miserably.
The walk back would take at least four hours laden with our packs. Though we'd left at first light we would still have to push quite hard to make it back in time. And, of course, there was the mid-afternoon rainstorm; as much as I was sure Kathryn would be fine tramping through torrential rainfall I wasn't sure I was looking forward to being soaked through.
We didn't talk much as we hit the road - well, track - back toward the camp. Kathryn seemed distracted, her mind elsewhere, and I assumed that her thoughts were with her son. She had mentioned that Jonas had expressed some fondness for me before leaving and I couldn't help but be touched by the fact. He was a good kid, and the fact that we got along was something I was glad of, though I could tell it gave Kathryn pause.
The way was hard, though, and so it was perhaps unsurprising that there was little in the way of discussion, particularly after it began to rain. In about thirty seconds we were soaked through; I thought about asking to stop but realized the futility of it. For some time we trudged onward until Kathryn stopped, mid-step, and turned to me, rain dripping down her face. "This is going on too long. It should've stopped by now."
I raised my eyebrows - she actually sounded worried. "So... What do we do?"
"It's probably best if we stop and take shelter until it dies down," she said, looking around for a clear spot to put down our packs.
Frowning, I glanced around too - we didn't need much in the way of space for the tiny 'pop-up' tent we'd brought for such an eventuality, but finding anywhere around here that wasn't going to destroy local flora wasn't going to be unproblematic. Eventually after nearly twenty minutes of searching we found a small bare patch next to the path where we could set up the tent. Kathryn busied herself doing just that, while I stood huddled over our packs, already covered with their own fitted tarpaulins to keep them from getting waterlogged - although they would likely keep their contents dry even soaked-through they would be considerably heavier to carry that way.
The tent itself was a reasonably quick set-up - it snapped up by itself and had a built-in groundsheet, but had to be pinned down with deep pegs to help prevent slippage on the forest floor. Kathryn, apparently well-used to it, made short work of it and was soon gesturing to me to get our packs inside, her holding the tent itself still until it had a bit more weight in it to keep it in place.
And then we were both inside. It wasn't the tiniest tent ever, but it was certainly smaller than our tent back at the camp, and I couldn't help but be aware of how close Kathryn was as she maneuvered herself into a comfortable position, propping herself up on one of the packs. I did the same, unzipping it, sticking a hand inside and rifling around. "We have towels in here somewhere, right?"
"Maybe? Being dry is not always a priority here," Kathryn replied, leaning back.
"I could swear I packed- ah!" I caught the corner of a likely suspect and pulled out a small towel, immediately shifting to sit crosslegged, bending and wrapping it around my hair - it only took a moment to towel dry it, short as it was, and I then proferred it toward Kathryn.
She accepted it with an amused look, leaning forward to dry her own hair. "Thanks," she said, her voice slightly muffled.
"God, I'm soaked..." I commented needlessly, finally taking the time to look myself over. The only part of me that had been sheltered from the rain was my back and that was soaked through with sweat from wearing a pack.
"Mm," was all she said, though she finished with the towel a moment later and looked up, grinning at me. "Me too. I suppose we could change clothes, if we're going to wait it out in here..."
My stomach plunged at the idea. It wasn't that we hadn't dressed in the same room before - we had on several occasions over the part two weeks - but every time I'd been standing, back to Kathryn, concentration on what I was doing and not on the undressed woman in the same room with me. In here there was really nowhere to 'hide'. "I... suppose that's probably a good idea."
"All right, well... okay." Kathryn twisted, opening her pack and delving inside it for a change of clothes. "Of course, we have no way of drying the ones we're wearing."
"I guess we ball them up and leave that 'til we get back," I said after a beat, about to unzip the other pack automatically before I realised that our clothes were all in the same place. Kathryn seemed to realise this too, tossing appropriate items of clothing in my direction as she found them. "It doesn't feel like anything's been properly dry in days anyway..."
"True enough," she agreed with a nod. Kathryn apparently then decided there was no time like the present to change, and, turning away from me as far as she could began to peel the wet shirt she was wearing over her head.
My insides flipped over. I meant to look away - I was about to look away to attend to my own change of clothes - but I didn't. Right there, in the confined space of that tiny tent, Kathryn dragging first her wet teeshirt and then the sports bra beneath it off, all I could do was stare, taking in the smooth, toned lines of her back, the curve of her waist and hips, the slight hint of the side of her breast where she wasn't totally turned around, and even in my exhaustion, even soaked to the skin, even insect bitten and badly slept, that familiar sensation travelled from my stomach downwards, followed by a tingling in my arms and thighs that I knew didn't just come from the water cooling on my skin, and I wanted nothing more than to kiss her - no, not just to kiss her, to... everything. My mind took me off to a place where we lay together, limbs tangled, nothing between us but skin, where I got to feel what her neck, breasts, stomach, thighs felt like beneath my fingers and my mouth, to be on top of her, beneath her, to be inside her.
In a matter of seconds, all the past few months of restraint, all the time and effort I'd spent meticulously packing up how I felt about Kathryn Sinclair and putting it into a safe little box at the back of my mind, had been completely undone, and I wanted her more than I ever had then.
She didn't put her shirt on straightaway and I wondered why; after a minute I realized she was talking to me. "...as any to check for ticks and leeches, don't you think?"
She glanced over her shoulder at me, raising an eyebrow . "Alex?"
I blinked, willing my head to clear. "I... um... we haven't been through any water," I offered, vaguely registering the word 'leeches'. My voice was impossibly husky, thick with the sudden arousal that had hit me like a ton of bricks, apparently unaffected even by talk of parasites.
"Well, ticks then. Are there any on my back?" She had an arm pressed across her breasts as she turned to look at me more fully.
"Um, not..." I cleared my throat, "not that I saw."
"Good enough, I suppose." quickly she turned back around and shrugged the t-shirt on, fussing with the hem for a moment before looking back at me. "Turn around and I'll check you now."
Heart hammering in my chest, my ears and neck hot and I'm sure flushed, I shifted round as best I good in the tiny space and with trembling hands pulled my shirt off - for my part I hadn't worn a bra since we got here, so I immediately felt completely exposed, despite my back being turned, and I fought the urge to cover my own small breasts.
I could almost feel Kathryn's eyes moving over my bare skin. "It looks like you escaped unscathed as w- oh, no, I spoke too soon. Do you want me to get it?"
"Ugh." Well, that killed the mood a little. I made a face, twisting round a little even though there was obviously no way I was going to be able to see wherever she was looking. "Could you? Do we have any tweezers?"
"Never go anywhere in the jungle without them," she quipped, reaching into one of the front pockets of her bag and fishing out the implements. "Just hold still..." I didn't realize how hard that instruction was going to be until I felt her hand on my lower back a moment later, steadying me. "It's just below the waistband," she murmured, her other hand sliding further down my back until she was able to tug my cargo pants a few inches lower. "There's the bastard."
I swallowed, resting my hands flat on the groundsheet either side of me. It made sense, of course, that a tick would choose there rather than the open planes of my back - I really shouldn't have been surprised. "All right," I murmured.
"Don't worry, I'm a pro at this," she told me then, leaning closer still. "You won't feel a thing."
Thinking how little she knew, I braced myself, although, of course, Kathryn was quite right and I barely felt it as she unattached the offending creature and leaned to unzip a few inches of the door to throw it outside. I hurriedly moved to pull on a dry shirt, feeling slightly less exposed by the time she had closed the tent flap. My ordeal was not over yet, however.
"I guess we can do our own tick-checks from here on down," Kathryn remarked, hands going to her belt buckle.
"I, um..." If we could check ourselves, why the hell were we doing it in this tiny little tent?
"Unless you want me to check you..." Was it my imagination, or did her voice catch just slightly?
"No, no, I'm okay," I muttered, turning away again as I hurriedly pulled off my boots and socks and then unbuttoned my own shorts, stripping off quickly, all my attention on the sounds of Kathryn doing the same. I ran my hands lightly over my skin in a rough check for parasites, mercifully finding none, keen to be fully clothed again as soon as was feasibly possible.
My companion, however, was not so lucky. "Shit. Hand me those tweezers, will you?"
I began to turn, automatically, then froze, realising that not only was Kathryn presumably still naked from the waist down but I was too. I reached out a hand beside me to grope for the tweezers, holding them out behind me in Kathryn's general direction once I'd found them. "Um. Here."
She took them easily, which must've meant she was looking, which made me fumble even more with my trousers as I pulled them up past my ankles, then my knees. As I hitched them awkwardly past my hips I heard her unzip the tent again and I thought about just putting myself out of my misery and throwing myself outside along with the ticks, but a second later the chance had passed and Kathryn was once again next to me, her bare leg brushing against my arm as she reached for her shorts.
"Looks like we might be here a while," I murmured, mainly to break the silence as it was a pretty obvious statement - the rain was showing no signs of letting-up.
"Mm... hmm. Looks like."
I fought the urge to shift out of the way, now paranoid that if I did I would make my preoccupation all too clear. She lay back, and I could feel her lifting her hips to slide her shorts up only inches from where I sat. I closed my eyes, bit my lip until it hurt, and didn't move until I was quite sure that Kathryn was clothed.
"Well. So. What shall we do with ourselves?" Kathryn cleared her throat, balling up her clothes and searching for a plastic bag to store them in.
"I might have a pack of cards in there somewhere," I offered lamely.
"I think I might be all carded out," she replied, making a face. "Sorry."
"Yeah. Me too," I said, lying back against my pack and sighing. "I didn't bring any books."
"Neither did I."
I glanced over at Kathryn now that it was safe to do so, smiling apologetically. She smiled back though she seemed somewhat distracted - perhaps it was that she was missing Jonas already.
"So... we're still on schedule," I offered then in an attempt to give her an opportunity to take her mind off any troubles she might have.
"Hm? Oh, you mean with the work... yes. We are."
"What I else would I mean?" I asked with a slight smile.
"I... don't know," she said with a chuckle, shaking her head. "You're right."
Right about what? "Right."
I was in Hell. Granted, I had never expected to find Hell in a tent in the Amazon jungle, but there it was. Being trapped with Alex in a popup not much bigger than the cab of a Toyota Hilux was excruciatingly difficult, made moreso by my incredibly idiotic ideas of changing clothes and searching for ticks. Just touching the bare skin of her back had been nearly enough to turn me into a gibbering mess, and frankly I was surprised that I hadn't made a fool of myself yet in our halting attempts at time-filling conversation. Eventually I suggested an afternoon 'siesta' - at least I couldn't put my foot in my mouth if we were sleeping. If I could sleep.
Alex shifted a lot trying to get comfortable, pulling a jacket out of her pack and rolling it up for a pillow, shifting the pack itself out of the way, which of course meant us lying that much closer together. I didn't bother with any adjustments - I've spent enough time in the field to be able to sleep almost anywhere - merely lying back and closing my eyes and concentrating on the sound of the rain around us. Eventually Alex seemed to find a comfortable position and I heard her still. I could guess from having seen her asleep that she would no doubt be curled up on her side, head resting on her arm, and on feeling a light, warm breath on my arm I surmised that she was facing toward me.
This of course didn't help me feel any less keyed up, but I was glad that Alex at least was relaxed. I could tell I had made her uncomfortable earlier and was still kicking myself over that. Opening my eyes and glancing down, however, I found that my assumption had been incorrect - Alex was indeed curled up on the groundsheet beside me, eyes closed but far from being relaxed her face was a picture of concentration, brows drawn together, hands in fists. Either she was having a particularly stressful dream, or she wasn't asleep at all.
"Alex?" I murmured, turning over onto my side to face her.
At first she didn't stir, and I thought she was going to maintain her facade, but a moment later she did open her eyes to look up at me. "Mm?"
"Are you okay? I know the ground's not very comfortable, I could try and find something in my pack for you to lie on..."
"Oh... no, I'm fine," she said after a hesitation. "I mean, I'm not uncomfortable. I was just... concentrating," she said, then frowned again, as though she wasn't entirely happy with her own word choice.
"Concentrating on what?" I asked, a few seconds before realizing perhaps it was none of my business, a thought that was confirmed by the long, uncomfortable silence that followed it.
Alex shifted a little, cleared her throat. "Kathryn, I..." She trailed off, and a look passed across her features that I'd seen on her face only once before, back on the Queen Malacite, right before she'd given in to those heart-wrenching silent tears.
My stomach dipped and I closed my eyes for a second, resisting the urge to spill everything just for the sake of clearing the air. "Alex, it's okay, you don't have to tell me," I said, my hand snaking across the divide to clasp hers tightly. "I'm sorry."
"This isn't your fault." Alex's fingers wrapped around mine. "I'm just... such an idiot."
"Why?" I found myself asking, frowning despite the amazing sensation of our fingers winding together, but Alex was already shaking her head.
"I've fucked up," she said, surprising me slightly as she wasn't prone to strong language of any kind - when we were sailing together I swore a lot more than she did. "The first job I've had that I've really cared about, where I could actually see myself, and I've messed it up for myself."
"But how? Alex, you're amazing, you're the best assistant I've ever had, you've done everything wonderfully," I stumbled over myself to tell her. "You haven't messed anything up."
"I have, I have, you have no idea," Alex countered, finally looking up at me, her eyes as big and dark as I'd ever seen them. "I..." She lost the thread of her conversation again now, instead just gazing silently across the short distance between us as though looking for, I don't know, support, or an answer, her grip on my hand almost hurting me now.
I don't like to see people hurting. I may not be the most personable human being but I certainly do my best to minimize suffering when I see it. That being said, I had absolutely no idea what to do at that exact moment but desperately wanted to do something, which is probably why I leaned closer, squeezing my eyes shut and pressing my lips to hers, hoping to accomplish... well, I don't know.
She froze, a little sound escaping her throat, muffled against my mouth, and pulled back almost immediately, and for a moment I thought I'd made a terrible mistake, but she drew in a deep, ragged gasp of air and then her lips were back on mine, and I don't think anyone had ever kissed me like that before, desperately, as though we were about to go into battle, or be separated forever - whatever the reason her hand had escaped mine and was gripping my upper-arm, fingers biting into my flesh, and her mouth was somehow hard and soft at the same time, and opening my eyes I saw that hers were tightly closed, brow furrowed again, her whole body tense as if ready to spring back or be pulled away.
Everything I had tried to ignore for those long months was now awake and insistent, pulsing through me as I kissed her back. I felt as if I had jumped off a cliff and plunged into a deep, dark pool, sensations washing over me, my heart pounding and my ears ringing, and Alex seemed no less lost, though the tension was slowly leaving her muscles, her brow smoothing over, grip relaxing a little, hand shifting to my back, running down my spine and back up again, another tiny whimper escaping her throat as her tongue touched to mine.
I squirmed closer, those few inches between us suddenly too much, my own free hand sliding to her waist and bunching the fabric of her shirt as I clung to it, and she responded in kind, moaning quietly, her fingers reaching the hem of my teeshirt and slipping up beneath it across the bare skin of my back. The sensation was enough to make me shudder with pleasure, and my back arched of its own accord as she drew her fingers over my skin. Tipping my head I deepened the kiss, each tiny gasp and moan she gave driving me onwards without thought or hesitation. She was shifting, now, moving to prop herself up on the arm trapped by her side, lifting herself over me, her lips never leaving mine she eased my knees apart with hers, winding our legs together.
I couldn't remember the last time anyone had made me feel this way - wanted, needed. I arched against her, my fingers pressed to her back, drawing her ever nearer as I spiraled in a whirlpool of desire, and now her thigh was pressed between mine, insistently, her fingers moving to the button of my shorts and though I could feel her tembling she nonetheless began to fumble one-handed with my fly.
I knew I should stop her - should stop this, but I had no more ability to do that than I did resist the delicious plunging sensation I felt as she shifted her leg between mine, and after what seemed like forever she managed to unbutton and unzip my shorts and immediately slid her hand down inside both layers of clothing, cupping her fingers against me, moaning again against my mouth, her thigh pressing up against her own hand and I let out a strangled gasp of my own, my hips rising up against hers.
I closed my eyes so tightly all I could see was white; the sound of the rain echoed in my head. We stayed like that for what felt like eternity but was probably only moments before I could hold back no longer and began to move against her almost frantically, her fingers slipping against me in the rhythm she quickly joined, her mouth drawing away from mine to kiss my face and jawline, her teeth catching my ear and then at the soft skin of my neck, and the moaning I could hear grew louder and I realised that it was mine.
When I tipped over the edge it was like being swept along over a waterfall - the roaring in my ears, the plunging sensation, the loss of all control and the exhilaration of falling. I heard Alex gasp in my ear, shifting the arm supporting her to wrap it around me, and her hand slowed but didn't still completely, her fingers still shifting slightly as I bucked against them, and eventually I had to grab her wrist and pull it away.
We lay pressed together for some minutes, arms wound tightly as if we are all that were keeping one another tethered to the earth. Alex pressed her cheek to my chest and I was sure she could hear the pounding of my heart. Eventually she moved, lifting her head to press her lips first to my jawline, and then back against mine as I turned my head. I'll admit to nerves as I pushed myself up, shifting until it was I who leaned over her, though there was also the exciting and not-unwelcome sensation as she twined her legs with mine.
"You don't have to..." she murmured, sliding her hand to cover mine as I smoothed it across her side.
"Shh," I told her, turning my hand to grasp hers for a moment before leaning to kiss her again.
With a whimper, Alex returned the kiss, moving her hands to my sides and squirming a little beneath me. This was all the encouragement I needed, and soon I was sliding a hand beneath her shirt and smoothing it over her taut stomach and then up, over a breast, causing Alex to arch against me, gasping as my palm moved across one firm nipple.
I let out a low moan of my own and a moment later dipped my head to follow where my fingers had been with my lips. She tasted like sweat and rain, filling my senses until I was dizzy with desire.
It was as though every new movement on my part was a fresh surprise for Alex and she cried out again. Flicking my tongue over her nipple I trailed my fingers lower, dipping under the waistband of her cargo pants as it had not so very long ago, and Alex buried her head in the crook of my neck, her breath hot and damp against my skin. Moving only on instinct now I tugged at the button that held them closed, delving my hand underneath as soon as it loosened and gasping at the sensations that met me - warm, slick, so familiar and yet strange and new, and I realised with an internal smile that Joyce, back thousands of miles and what seemed years ago, had been right - I needn't have been nervous.
I crushed my lips against Alex's, circling my fingers as slowly as I could manage, which, given the tiny whimpers she was making next to my ear, was not very slowly at all. It wasn't very long before she came, clinging to me, crying out over and over again, her whole body trembling.
It was as we lay there afterwards wrapped in each other's arms that I realized that I hadn't noticed the rain stopping. Alex didn't seem to have noticed yet either, just curling against me, burying her head back against the crook of my neck. Though we could have packed up and headed back to camp I felt no desire to do so, closing my eyes and settling more closely next to her, and she wrapped an arm around me and sighed quietly, closing her eyes. I knew what we couldn't just ignore what we had done, but it felt like a shame to sully the moment with uncomfortable questions and explanations. Better to let the inevitable wait and enjoy this peace for now - who knew if we'd ever get it again?
I drifted back into consciousness to find myself lying alone. Well, not completely - as I cracked my eyes open I saw that Kathryn was actually still next to me, shimmying back into her shorts. She must've noticed me waking, as she looked down a second later and smiled. "Hey. Rain's stopped. Feel like hiking back?"
"Mm." I stretched, and nodded. "I suppose," I said, not a little reluctantly. What happened when we got back? I had a horrible feeling that the answer was 'nothing'.
"Just have to pack up the tent - I'll go pull the pegs while you get ready." With that Kathryn slipped on her boots and unzipped the flap, shooting me another grin before slipping outside.
I pulled my own clothes on quickly, and followed as soon I was able, dragging the packs out after me. It took me a moment to realise why I felt so disoriented - it should surely be getting dark by now. Tipping my head to listen to the sounds around me, something occured to me. "Were we out here all night?"
"Your stomach hasn't told you that already? God, mine's been grumbling for hours. There's some snacks but we'll have to wait to get back to camp for anything more substantial."
"Right." I wondered when the rain had stopped - surely it hadn't gone on the rest of the day? Hadn't Kathryn noticed? Or was it possible she had wanted to stay where we were? I daren't entertain the thought.
"C'mon, let's head out. Can't wait to see what Tim and Georgie have done in our absence."
Tim and Georgie, it turned out, had held the fort down admirably - they hadn't started work for the day yet, which was exactly what we preferred, and had instead spent their time doing basic maintenance, tightening guy-ropes, clearing clutter and so on. They looked pleased but not terribly relieved to see us - presumably they too had had the rainstorm and surmised that we were waiting it out somewhere on the trail.
Kathryn greeted them warmly and between the four of us we unloaded the packs of food and supplies. By then it was almost lunchtime - it wouldn't be long until the mid-afternoon rainstorm but Kathryn sent them off to do a bit of sample-collecting to keep us on schedule. That left us to prepare the meal, a task which should've given us time to talk, but instead left only a pregnant silence.
The rest of the day went... tolerably. I managed to keep from blurting anything stupid out, and I actually succeeded in getting some work done. Kathryn helped a bit, though she also spent time with Tim, discussing some of the samples he had brought back and answering questions. After dinner we sat around the campfire for a while, trading stories, though all I could think about was what would happen when we had to retire to bed.
I left the assembled company first, hunting down a book I hadn't read yet and curling up on my cot to read. Kathryn came in about half an hour later, zipping the tent behind her and giving me a small smile. She looked slightly flushed, probably from the campfire, and immediately sought out the bottle of water she always kept next to her cot for a drink. "Any good?"
"You tell me," I said with a slight smile, holding up her manuscript. "So far it's lacking plot, but I love the characterisation."
"Hah. It's a good sleep aid, if nothing else." She sat down on her cot, running a hand through her scraped-back hair, which had just recently become long enough to pull away from her face. "So does this mean it's my turn for airport trash?"
I hesitated - I wanted to say something, right away, just clear the air. But I didn't. "If you... like," I said eventually, nodding toward my little pile of books.
Standing, she leaned over to pick out the book I had been reading most recently from the pile, turning it over to glance at the back before apparently deciding it was acceptable. Instead of moving back to 'her side' of the tent, however, she sat down at the end of my cot, glancing over at me with raised eyebrows in a silent query. Surprised and a little confused, I could only shrug and nod, managing at least to smile at her, albeit I'm sure it was a little on the shaky side. After all, I wasn't totally sure to what, exactly, I was giving my assent. Not that it mattered. After all, she could have anything and everything she wanted as far as I was concerned.
We read for some time by the light of the tiny lantern; Kathryn was quite fast and managed to get through a significant portion of the novel, though I had slower going with the manuscript. Eventually though I was ready for sleep, having had a long but not terribly comfortable night's sleep the previous day, and I stood, moving over to where my clothes were stored to strip off for bed - usually I just changed my light trousers and underwear for boxers, having changed my teeshirt before dinner after the heat of the day had passed. It was strange how quickly one got used to new rituals. I hesitated tonight, sure I could feel Kathryn's eyes on me, but it occurred to be that it was a bit late now to be shy and I went ahead and changed as normal, turning to find that she had shifted to do just the same and was clad in only her vest and underwear now, though she was still sitting at the end of my cot.
Though it seemed that there were clear signs to be read, I still couldn't help feeling presumptuous, even just taking a seat beside her as I did now, close, but not so close that our bare legs touched.
"The cots aren't really made for two," she murmured, turning towards me, though she couldn't quite seem to meet my eyes. "We could put the sleeping bags on the ground, or if you'd rather just stay here..."
I did a mental doubletake, though my mind seemed to be the only thing still trying to catch up because I feel the rest of me keying up all by itself, my pulse skipping a little. "I, um... we could... mattresses. On the groundsheet. Together." At that point I cracked a little at how ridiculous I sounded, and a nervous giggle escaped my throat - which in turn made me laugh at my own ridiculousness. "God, I'm sorry," I said, shaking my head, "I'm such a dork."
"But a practical one," Kathryn replied with a grin, already standing to divest her cot of its thin mattress. It was a couple of beats beats before I found the presence of mind to stand and do the same myself, having to fold the light frame in half and stack it out of the way to make room for my half of our new 'bed' on the ground.
We both spread our sleeping bags over the mattresses - it was much too warm to think we'd need one of them over us - and then lay down, the first few moments an awkward concert of arranging limbs and settling against one another. It felt much stranger now than it had the previous day, where there'd been little time to think about anything. My stomach flipped a little as I remembered it - lying there, mind set on the fact that I couldn't continue this way, that there was now no question in my mind that I would have to quit when we got back to England, and then Kathryn's mouth was against mine...
That, at least, I'd understood - or although I didn't understand it it at least made sense to me in isolation in that way that sex itself is never as confusing as the emotions or actions that bookend it. This, though... Kathryn's legs were woven together with mine, an arm beneath my neck, and her free hand was lightly trailing up my side, and it was... well, it was certainly stimulating. But it wasn't... frenzied. It was slow, almost meandering. As though it could go anywhere or nowhere and that wouldn't matter. And that was confusing.
The smart thing would've been to stop her, to ask what was going on and why she was doing that and didn't she know I was in love with her? I couldn't bear the idea of the inevitable knock-back though, not after my hopes had been raised so high, and though it was cowardly I justified it to myself as 'better than nothing'.
Kathryn leaned in to kiss me softly, her eyes fluttering closed. Her hand continued its leisurely exploration of my body, stoking feelings that were no less intense for all their slowness.
Still utterly lost, it seemed that there was little I could do, having chosen this course of action or at least enabled it, but kiss her back. As I slid a hand up her side beneath her vest and felt her stomach tense beneath my touch I was put in mind of that old, oft-covered Peggy Lee number, the fade out with its simple bassline and repeated line:
What a lovely way to burn
What a lovely way to burn
What a lovely way to burn...
I'm not proud to admit how things went from then on out. It just seemed like the easiest way to handle them at the time. Alex and I continued our work, analyzing the samples Georgie and Tim retrieved from the water sources and plants around us, acting as ever like two colleagues well-suited to working together. Breakfasts, lunches, dinners - all passed in companionable camaraderie, and sometimes at the end of the night we would all sit around listening to Tim fiddle away at his guitar or Georgie's stories about her time in the Peace Corps. And then, at the end of the night, Alex and I would tumble into our makeshift bed together to make love and then drift to sleep, our limbs still entangled in the muggy air of night. Nothing was said, no outward sign given that this was how things were, and yet we both seemed to embrace it as normal that we were lovers, at least for now.
Only occasionally did I allow myself a few moments to consider the situation, what was happening now and what would have to happen on our return. Not a single scenario was to my liking. I couldn't be her boss while this continued - hell, it was worse than what Keith had done as this time I was her direct superior. I couldn't really expect things to return to 'normal' between us - and after all, normal had been becoming less and less maintainable anyway with my growing attachment to her. I couldn't fire her without almost inevitably losing my own job as the school fell over itself to avoid a sexual harrasment suit that would ruin both them and me - and I knew that in good conscience I wouldn't ever fire her anyway. And the fantasy that she would want to be with me when we were no longer in an exotic locale and I turned back from an exciting seasoned adventurer into the middle-aged mother of a teenaged son was ridiculous enough that it didn't even make it out of the realms of fantasy.
The only option, I decided, would be to end our 'affair', hopefully by unspoken mutual agreement, when we got home and hope that, if not comfortable, things would return to being tolerable, and our working relationship would be, well, not much different on the surface. And what I felt beneath that, I would just have to ignore, and hope that it went away in time.
Contrary to the way time normally moved in the jungle it now seemed to fly past, gathering the happy moments and whisking them away as the time we were due to leave loomed ahead. As it approached I found it even harder to deny how I felt, and sometimes I would force myself to stay awake just so I could stroke Alex's hair as she slept and delude myself for just a little bit that this wasn't some torrid affair I ought to be ashamed of. Perhaps she began to sense how I felt, or perhaps she was having regrets herself, because Alex seemed to become more withdrawn and solitary as the last few days of the trip drew near - no less affectionate or passionate when we were alone but spending more and more time by herself, reading or scribbling in one of her notebooks. I would dearly have liked to know what she was writing in that diary, but I would never have betrayed her by looking.
I knew I should start preparing myself as well, begin pulling away for the inevitable separation, but I found it almost impossible to. Save for the time I spent worrying about Alex and what she was thinking, the past few weeks had been some of the happiest of my life, and I soaked the experience up greedily, savouring every morsel I could before the famine began.
I didn't know it was possible to experience so much happiness and so much pain simultaneously as I did those few weeks, but it was never going to last. With every step closer to home my feet felt a little heavier, until I was sure even Georgie and Tim had noticed it, never mind Kathryn. As we stepped out of our heavily loaded rented jeep and onto the airstrip I felt like crying then and there, having a childish tantrum, refusing to leave, begging Kathryn to just stay here with me, come back to the forest where we could pretend the rest of the world didn't exist.
I thought for a moment I saw Kathryn hesitate as well, though it was probably only wishful thinking on my part. She had plenty to get back to, a department to run, a son to see. It was only me who had nothing.
The trip home went without incident. Although we flew (albeit reluctantly given our professions) the rest of our gear and our samples would all be shipped, so it would be some time before we saw them again. It was a strange mixture of relief and letdown when we finally arrived back in [city] - the idea of regular showers and food that didn't come from a tin was tempting, but spending my nights alone in my tiny flat was not. Kathryn was greeted at the airport by Jonas, Keith and Keira, who apparently were all going out to dinner, and to my slight surprise they invited me as well, but I just couldn't face sitting there with a family that I so much wanted to be a part of and pretend that I didn't feel as though everything was crumbling away under my feet, and so I declined, citing fatigue. This time I was sure Kathryn's expression fell, just for a moment, but she soon rallied and gave me a hug goodbye, telling me she would see me in a week's time after my much-deserved holiday. The idea of a week apart from her after the past month and a half was less than palatable, but I resigned myself to the idea that this was just the way things were going to be.
The first thing I did upon getting home was take an extremely long, extremely hot shower. A bath would have been better, but unfortunately I lacked the capacity. The person who had been staying in my flat for the past two months (a friend of Lynn's) had taken pretty good care of it, and I was reasonably sure nothing was missing, save for the entire contents of my pantry. Following that I found myself taking my duvet to the couch, sitting myself down in front of the television, switching on and ignoring it completely while I indulged in that most private of passtimes: the good long cry.
It wasn't that I wasn't resigned to the way things had to be; I was well aware that they couldn't last and that I was fooling myself to think otherwise. It was just that... for the first time in my life I had realized what it might be to be happy. And giving that all up, even for the sake of my job and my continued sanity, felt like a waste.
I spent most of the next week signed into the university intranet, catching up on administration and emails. The part I didn't spend either doing that or catching up on rubbish television, I spent composing and recomposing my resignation letter. I didn't actually send it, however. I wanted to see Kathryn one more time before I did.
"Alex!" I injected as much enthusiasm and goodwill into the word as I could; in truth I was both thrilled and terrified to see her. The past week had been terrible - I had spent most of it alternately catching up on all the paperwork I had missed while being away and moping in my flat, lonely and miserable. My stomach plunged when I saw her; could I really go through with this? "Good holiday?"
Alex looked about as energised as I felt - it looked a little as though she was only standing because it was a hallway and a chair had yet to present itself. "It was... Well. I caught up on sleep," she said eventually. Even that looked suspiciously like a lie.
"Well. I'm glad." I managed a smile, though I don't know how convincing it was. "I hope you're ready to readjust to life back in the real world." I know I'm not.
"Well. Um." Alex hesitated. Then she seemed to decide against whatever she was going to say. "Sure," she said. "I mean, it was... quite an experience," she said eventually.
"Mm. That it was." Okay, this was becoming excruciating. "Well. Back to work, I suppose..." I was dying for her to give me any sign that this was as unbearable for her as it was for me.
"Right." Alex frowned. Then she cleared her throat. "I... need to give you this," she said, holding out a blank envelope.
"Right. Well, thank you," I said, slipping the envelope into my pocket. "See you later?"
"Um, absolutely," Alex said with a nod. "Yeah. Sure. Definitely."
"Okay. Well. Have a good day."
Glancing down, possibly in the direction of my pocket although I wasn't sure, Alex seemed like she might say something more, but then she merely nodded her head, turned on her heel and fled - well, walked quickly away off toward her office, but it certainly felt to me as though she was running away. I suppose I could hardly blame her.
Perhaps it was cowardly of me to write it in a letter. The fact was, I didn't think I could say it to her face without breaking down. As it was I spent most of the morning sitting in my office full of dread, waiting for a sign that Kathryn had read my resignation letter and accepted it. As it was, I didn't have to wait too long. She appeared in my doorway just before lunch, her face pale and set. "Alex. We need to talk."
I really didn't want to talk. By the same token, she was my boss, this was our workplace, and I'd tendered my resignation, so there was really no way I could refuse her. I nodded toward the chair at the other side of my little desk.
She hesitated, but eventually stepped inside, closing the door behind her. She didn't bother to take the proffered seat. "What... why did you write this?" she asked, holding up a crumpled sheet of paper I realized was my resignation.
I frowned. Unable to keep my eyes on her face I looked down toward my desk, to where I had been consolodating notes, beginning to pull together the documentation that woud let someone new pick up easily where I'd left off. "I can work an extra month's notice if needs be," I said. "I don't think it will be necessary, but-"
"Is this about what happened between us in Brazil?" Kathryn interrupted in a strangled voice, "Because I swear, Alex, I didn't mean for it to and it won't continue, but I don't want you to leave just because of that. Please. Stay."
What could I say to that? Of course it was because of Brazil - she had to know that. My insides, roiling like they were filled with snakes as was now usual in Kathryn's presence, couldn't seem to decide quite what they should be reacting to - the borderline desperation in her tone that sparked that cruel shred of hope, or the regret she expressed that it had ever happened. Her words lit another tiny flame, too, one that I'd never felt until now: anger. How could she be so complicit - so instrumental in what had happened between us and then presume to brush it away as less important than our working relationship, as something not worth resigning over? "I'll be happy to interview for replacements on your behalf," I managed coolly. "I'd very much like to minimise your inconvenience."
She let out a short sob, as if I had hit her, stopping behind the chair and looking down at me with a haunted expression. "If... If that's what you really want," she managed eventually.
All my concentration was on keeping my voice steady, now, on holding it together long enough to get through the conversation. "I think it's best."
"Okay. I'll... Send Sarah with your paperwork later." And with that, Kathryn turned and fled from the office, leaving me to sit there in silence for a long few minutes, scared to move, never mind speak, for fear that I would commit the worst of embarrassing crimes in the office by bursting into tears at my desk.
I sat at my desk, furiously fighting back tears as I gathered up my things. I knew it was weak and stupid, but I didn't think I could stay at work any longer that day. I had informed Sarah to cancel my classes, as I was feeling ill, and if I could just make it out of the building without running into anyone else I could break down in peace. That plan was immediately ruined by the knock at my door, which immediately opened as Keith, in typical form, let himself in.
"Hey Kath, I was just going to- Jesus, who pissed on your chips?"
"Not right now, Keith, I was just leaving." I pushed myself up, hefting my bag over my shoulder and looking steadfastly at the floor in an effort not to give myself away further.
"Hey, heeey..." Keith had dodged between me and the door now and reached for my shoulders, ducking down to try to meet my eyes. "Seriously, love, what's going on? You look like death warmed up. Are you ill?"
"No, I.... Yes. I'm ill. I need to go home," I mumbled, shaking my head.
"I'll drive you," Keith said, in that 'white knight' tone he got sometimes which I used to find sweet but was now mostly annoying.
I was about to protest, insist on getting a getting a taxi, but I found my will to argue was non-existent in my current state. "Fine," I sighed. "Go ahead."
And so I found myself in the strange position of having my ex-husband drive me in what had once been our family car to my flat. He didn't even ask whether he could follow me up the stairs, and I didn't stop him.
"Nice place," he said as we entered, the first words he'd said since we'd left the unit.
"Thanks." I tossed my bag down and wandered over to the couch, sitting heavily and immediately burying my face in my hands. I wasn't crying - yet - but I didn't know how much longer I would last.
After a long pause in which I wondered whether Keith might have taken mercy on me and left, I felt the weight and warmth of someone sitting beside me, and his familiar arm wrapping around my shoulders. He didn't say anything.
I was surprised at the speed with which I crumpled against him and the strength with which the sobs wracked my body, like I was nothing but a spare sail in a tempest. And Keith - give him credit where it's due - just wrapped his arms tightly around me and waited for it to pass, murmuring the odd soothing gibberish, but for the most part just being there.
I don't know how long I cried for, but I do know I felt oddly cheated when I finally stopped - there had been nothing therapeutic about those tears. I still felt as lost and as empty as I had before I started. Wiping my hand over my face I pulled away, wishing that Keith would eschew the questions I knew he was burning to ask. He didn't.
"You want to tell me what's up?" he asked quietly, leaning sideways to retrieve me the box of tissues from my coffee table.
"You wouldn't believe me if I did," I told him with a hoarse laugh.
"Try me."
I blew my nose loudly and then crumpled up the tissue, staring down at my hands without really seeing them. "I fell in love. And, as our son would say, it sucks."
"Huh." Keith did actually reel back, just a tiny bit. "I... see. What's wrong with him? Is he married? Gay? Not there with you?"
"A combination. Also, not a he."
Strangely, Keith seemed less shocked by this than he had been by my original revelation. In fact, as I glanced over at him I got the impression he was actually hiding a slight but highly inappropriate smile. "I see. And she's given you the brush off?"
Irritation reared up, fought a brief battle with depression, lost. "You could say that."
Keith frowned a little. "What does that mean?"
"It's complicated, Keith. Let's just say I fucked up and leave it at that, shall we?"
"Hey, okay, okay," Keith said, holding his hands up in defense. "It just doesn't sound like you, that's all."
"What, the falling in love or the fucking up part? Because I've done at least one of those before," I shot back. Harsh, I know, but I needed an outlet and Keith was sitting right there.
He winced. "Ouch," he said, and then pushed to his feet. "It was the giving up part to which I was referring," he said stiffly, "but never mind. I'll leave you to it."
"No, Keith, please don't go. I'm sorry." I reached out for his hand, feeling the tears well up again. God, I just couldn't stop. "It's Alex."
He didn't react. Keith was always quick to catch on. He did sit back down, though, wrapping his big, warm hand around mine, and I remembered that we used to be best friends.
"It's all so fucked up," I murmured, holding onto his hand like a lifeline. "I fell for her months - ages ago, but I knew I shouldn't... and then, when we were away, things changed. And then I tried to put them back, but I can't, and now she's quit..."
"I heard." At my sideways glance he shrugged. "No secrets in the staffroom. Look, she didn't seem sexual harassment suit upset to me this morning. Have you actually spoken to her? About any of this?"
"God no. What on earth would I say?"
"I've heard 'I love you' is the classic."
"If she isn't in a sexual harassment suit mood now she would be after that!" I exclaimed, my heart pounding at the thought.
"She resigned," Keith said patiently, as though speaking to a child. "Does it occur to you that it might not be for the reason you think?"
It hadn't. I blinked, trying to process this new information. Certainly I had caught glimpses of what I had hoped was deeper emotion from Alex, though I had been too paranoid to assume they were anything but the inventions of my fevered mind. What if she did feel more than just attraction to me? Would that have been enough to make working together unbearable for her? "Um. Maybe," I said, realizing I hadn't responded to Keith's idea yet. "It's a pretty dangerous assumption to make, though."
"You're not making any assumptions by telling her how you feel. Look, Kath," Keith said, turning a little further toward me to look at me properly, "I don't know what happened between you in Brazil - and I don't want to," he added. "But is getting you fired really something you think Alex would do? Even if she doesn't feel the same?"
"I... don't know. I don't think so," I said, shaking my head slowly. "No."
"Then what do you have to lose?"
"I'm not very good at the whole... sharing my emotions thing," I replied, wincing. "You know that. What if I say the wrong thing?"
Keith shrugged. "There isn't a wrong thing. Just tell her how you feel."
"Right."
"Damn right I'm right," Keith said then, pushing to his feet again and giving my hand one last squeeze before letting go.
I felt tears prick my eyes again but ignored them, smoothing my hands over my thighs as I remained on the sofa. "Thank you, Keith. I'm sorry for... all this. Really."
Keith just smiled and shook his head. "Hey, don't worry about it. I'm always here."
"And I'm grateful. Always."
I'll confess, I didn't get much work done that day. My ability to organise and take notes had basically evaporated when Kathryn had left my office, and I spent a good portion of the day just staring at my computer screen as though willing it to suck me in and have done with it.
Eventually I had had enough and left, trudging through the hallway without really seeing it or the people I passed. Word of my resignation was beginning to get around but I had no patience or energy left to talk to people about it. I was looking forward to getting home and hiding under the duvet - I was not expecting to have any reason to do otherwise for the foreseeable future. And I certainly was not expecting a fully-constructed tent in the middle of my tiny living room.
I was pretty stunned - as house invasions go it was surreal to say the least. I knew that there could only be one person inside, but somehow I couldn't quite bring myself to believe it until I had crouched in front of it and pulled back the flap.
"Um. Hi," Kathryn said, giving me a look that was more terrified than anything else, as if it had been Bigfoot who had unzippped the tent, not her former assistant. "I, ah, bribed your neighbor to let me in. She remembered me from our sailing weekends."
I frowned. "All right..." I said. The whole situation was completely ridiculous but I was too drained to even be mildly amused. I must have looked utterly miserable, because Kathryn frowned, scooting back further in the tent to make room for me.
"Alex, could you please just... come in for a minute? I have something important to say and as stupid as it sounds I'd rather do it in here."
I hesitated. My memories of being with Kathryn in a tent weren't ones I particularly wanted to revisit right now. Besides... "I... don't think we should be hiding in a tent together," I said, withdrawing. "If you want to talk you need to come out." Okay, at least that one made me smile. Albeit dryly.
I thought for a moment she might refuse, but eventually, grudgingly, she made to move out of the tent. There was a tense moment when she emerged and we both stared at each other, unsure, but somehow we ended up on the sofa, shifting uneasily. Eventually Kathryn cleared her throat.
"Um. Well. Sorry again about the tent thing. I can, ah, take it down if you like."
"It's fine. Later."
"Okay. Listen, Alex, I... I came here because there were things I should've said earlier that I didn't, and I don't think I can... not say them. If you know what I mean."
I swallowed. I wasn't at all sure I wanted to hear this. "Look, Kathryn, you don't need to. What happened... I'm not going to tell anyone. I have no intention of getting you in trouble with anyone."
"I know," she blurted, blushing immediately and ducking her head. "I mean... thank you. But that's not what I wanted to say. Well, yet, anyway."
I frowned. "All right..."
"You're amazing, Alex. Incredible." Kathryn looked up at me, her eyes wide and dark. "And I... I..."
Brow still furrowed, I almost interrupted her, taking in a breath, not sure I was ready to process whatever Kathryn was about to say. But I didn't.
She seemed to lose her nerve for a moment, her long fingers playing over her knees and thighs distractedly. "I don't want you to resign because seeing you is the highlight of my day. And the idea of not seeing you... God, I don't know how I can face it, Alex. Even if it's just over a desk, in the office. It's better than nothing."
I shook my head slowly. "I can't do this. I can't pretend Brazil didn't happen, and I can't just sit in a room down the office from you every day remembering that."
Kathryn's face fell. "I'm sorry," she murmured. "I just want you to know... I wasn't using you. What happened between us in Brazil... it was because I care for you very deeply. And I'm sorry if I've upset you because of that. I never meant to."
"I just..." My resolve threatened to crumple, but I took a deep breath. If Kathryn was being honest, so could I. "It wasn't like that for me. It wasn't... I wanted that from - I don't know - from almost the day we met, I suppose, and to have it and then lose it like that..." I shook my head. "If I can't have you I don't think I can be near you. I think you're amazing too, but I can't go back to just being friends. I'm so sorry."
"What?" She blinked, her face going white, then flooding with color. "Alex, I... I don't want to just be friends. I just thought... it was better than not having you at all."
At least, I thought that's what I heard. But the last part of the sentence was lost in the rushing sound in my ears of my pulse suddenly speeding. "I, um... I don't..." I stammered.
"I'm in love with you."
I had imagined Kathryn saying that so many times that for a moment I thought I was just hearing it in my head. It was a long moment before I could say anything, and then when I did, I made an utter fool of myself as usual. "But... why?"
She hadn't been expecting that question. "Well, because... because I do. And because you're incredible. You are smart, and funny, and talented, and beautiful, and... and you make me happy. Happier than anyone else has made me in a long time. And miserable too, sometimes."
I felt the beginnings of a smile rising up in me. "I guess that... sounds about right..." I murmured, shifting round a little on the couch to face her more fully.
Now it was Kathryn's turn to look uncertain. "It does?"
"Happier and more miserable than anyone else both at the same time?" I said, nodding, my eyes brightening with tears again. "Yeh, I can relate to that."
"Oh." She cracked a smile at the same time as she let out a slightly strangled sob, one hand flying up to press to her lips.
Suddenly I was the one with purpose and presence of mind. Leaning forward, I pulled her hand away, bringing it to my mouth briefly before tugging her closer. She came to me willingly, almost melting against me despite her advantage in height, and soon my arms were wrapped tightly around her, my urge to kiss her overruled by the need to just get her as physically close to me as I could.
"Oh God, Alex, I can't believe..." She shook her head, burying her face in my neck. The next thing she said was muffled, and the sensation of her lips moving on my skin made me squirm.
"Pardon?" I asked gently, pulling back just slightly.
"I can't believe we almost missed this," she murmured, meeting my eyes. "All because I was too afraid to just tell you how I felt..."
I smiled again. "I was as bad as you were," I said, leaning in to kiss her before I said something too corny or clichéd. She seemed to prefer this to talking too, closing her eyes and leaning into the kiss eagerly. I could almost feel the relief flooding through me as a physical sensation, though a moment later I realized it could very well be something else entirely. I had release her to shrug off the jacket I was still wearing, our lips never parting as I removed it, and then my hands were back on her, slipping up beneath beneath her shirt, smoothing lightly across her skin as I refamiliarised myself with the contours of her back and sides. It had only been nine days, all told, but it had felt like a century.
Eventually Kathryn pulled back, her cheeks flushed and her lips full and pink. She immediately reached up to stroke my cheek, grinning at me as if she had just won the lottery.
"I still quit, you know," I said, though I was smiling this time.
Her grin flickered, but then she leaned in to press another kiss to my lips. "I don't know how I'm going to replace you. Or how we're going to convince anyone to work for me with our reputation."
"True enough," I murmured, touching my forehead to Kathryn's. "Maybe you shouldn't have any more assistants..."
"I'm sure we'll figure something out. Everything's got to be easier from here on out."
"I love you too." Kathryn looked mildly startled at first and I pulled back slightly to meet her eyes. "Sorry, just thought I should get that in there before you started to worry."
"Oh. I... suppose I would have eventually," she said, grinning. "In fact, I still might. So you should tell me again."
"Plenty of time for that," I murmured, leaning back in to kiss her.
She smiled against my mouth, hands sliding around my waist, and I wondered how I had ever doubted any of this.
"Jonaaas!"
Abandoning the washing up, I trotted over to pop my head round the kitchen door to see Alex emerge from the bathroom with a small round pot in her hand and a furious expression.
"Oh please don't tell me he's using the cookware for some disgusting teenage boy thing," I quipped, making a face.
She glared at me. "Worse than that, he- Oh, there you are!"
My son ducked a head out of his room, innocent expression plastered on his face. "Um, yeah?"
Alex rounded on him immediately, "What have I told you about using my hair stuff? If you must nick it would you please not just stick your fingers in it? You've left huge gaping holes!"
"Sorry, I was in a hurry - I won't do it again," he replied, glancing at me briefly to see if I was going to shield him from her wrath. I just smirked.
"You said that last time. Jesus, you're just like your mum and her 'stick the knife in the middle and twist' approach with olive spread!" Alex was punctuating her words by wagging the little container in her hand in Jonas's direction, which despite being a nagging gesture I myself had seen all too often was still completely adorable.
"Well, see, it's genetic, there's nothing I can do about it," Jonas said then, getting that cocky teenager look on his face that sometimes made me want to scream but right now made me snicker surreptitiously. "Am I supposed to fight my genes, Alex?"
"If you're using my hair products, yes you bloody do!" Alex said, shooting me a warning look - clearly she'd heard my chuckle, then.
"Well I asked Mum to get me my own but she hasn't, so..."
"Hey, hey, leave me out of this," I said, holding my hands up defensively. "You two are going to have to battle this out between yourselves."
"I'm sorry, am I very much mistaken or do you get a perfectly generous allowance with which to buy such frivolous things?" Alex asked now, though I could tell that she was losing a little of her energy to argue now.
"If it's so frivolous why do you care if I use yours?" Sadly, teenagers seemed to be endowed with an endless ability to debate, especially if it concerned some supposed wrongdoing of their own.
"Because I spent my allowance on it," Alex said with a smirk. "Maybe I should steal your hard-won junkfood from the fridge..."
"Noooo!" he howled, and this time I laughed aloud. I couldn't help it - I still hadn't gotten over how wonderful it was to have them both in my life, and for them to get along so well (despite minor spats like this).
"You are no help," Alex directed at me, but she was smiling now. I grinned back, setting down the dishtowel and leaning against the counter.
"Sorry. I was just thinking maybe we could kill two birds with one stone and Jonas could style his hair with his junk food."
"Ugh, gross, mum!"
"What, you'll put it in your mouth but you won't put it on your head?" I said. Alex snorted a little at this, turning - presumably to return to the bathroom and use said finger-holed hair-product. Jonas rolled his eyes and made to return to his bedroom, though I cleared my throat and caught him before he could disappear completely.
"Now, we're just going to be gone for a few hours. So no wild parties and no ordering pizzas while we're gone. Okay?"
"Can I play Warcraft on your computer?"
"For a little while..."
"Yehokay."
"And only one chocolate bar." It wasn't like me to lay down so many rules, but we usually didn't go out by ourselves when Jonas was staying over. Tonight was an exception, though - the university was having another of its 'wine and dine' evenings and we were both obliged to show our faces for at least a few hours. With another dramatic roll of his eyes Jonas shrugged and nodded, and I finally let him go to his room, leaving only me in the hallway, although Alex reemerged from the bathroom a moment later.
"You look gorgeous," she said quietly. "Although I dunno if the marigolds go with your outfit," she added, glancing to my washing-up gloves, worn only because I'd polished my nails for the occasion.
I chuckled, tugging the gloves off and stepping forward to give her a quick kiss. "Noted. I'll save them for our next dinner out, shall I?"
"Definitely," Alex replied with a smile, touching her nose to mine before stepping back a little. "We all ready?"
I have to say, these sorts of events were much more bearable now that Alex was there with me. Once the local academic community had got over the shock of the 'scandal' regarding our relationship, things had settled down very quickly, and when Alex herself was offered an events management position with the College they welcomed her back with open arms, so to speak. I'll admit, it had taken no small measure of nepotism to see it done, but I didn't feel so bad knowing that she really was the best person for the job.
I had ended up hiring Tim as my new assistant - he was still green but quite enthusiastic, and I found him much easier to work with when he didn't have a guitar in his hands - and after the run we'd had with female assistants it was a nice change.
Alex was, it turned out, an excellent person to have on your arm at a party - she was easy-going, social, and better still knew how to shut down conversations as well as start them. We managed to skate through the 'schmoozing' in short order and find a table at which to sit, after which Alex excused herself for the toilet. I hadn't sat there on my own very long before I felt a tap on my shoulder and a familiar voice.
"I seem to have been laden with too many appetizers once again. Care to help me out?"
I turned to see Joyce, impeccably turned out as usual in another of her endless supply of sharp suits, proffering a plate toward me.
Grinning, I motioned for her to take a seat next to me. "I think I've had my fill of leek quiche, thanks. How are you?"
"Never mind me, who's the girl? I go on sabbatical for a few months and the world turned upside down, it seems..."
"Hah. That's Alex." I'm fairly sure I beamed.
"I see. When did Alex happen?"
"Oh, about... six months ago? After, you know, almost a year of pining..."
Joyce raised her eyebrows. "That's since before we met."
"Well, you know what they say... hindsight is aways twenty-twenty. At the time things were considerably more fuzzy."
Nodding, Joyce raised her glass in my direction. "Well, I'm glad they cleared and you realised where your loyalties lay before it was too late," she said with a grin.
"Well.. so am I," I replied, chuckling. "I'd like you to meet her, actually... she should be back soon."
"I'd like that very much."
"...and then she resigned! So of course I had to say something..." Kathryn grinned and sipped her wine, glancing sideways at me as if daring me to challenge her story.
I smiled at her. "But she couldn't face just, you know, saying something."
"Well, no, not at first... but I got there eventually!"
"Tell her about the tent."
Joyce raised her eyebrows. "The tent?"
"Oh God, no, I don't think that's necessary, really..."
"No, no, I want to hear this. You pitched a tent, Kathryn?" Joyce directed at her with a smirk.
Kathryn relented, telling the embarrassing (but endearing) story of her setup with the tent, and Joyce ribbed her, though it was more fond than anything else. I could tell she had something of a 'thing' for Kathryn, though she was nothing if not warm and polite to me.
"Well, it looks as though the corny gesture worked if nothing else," she said when Kathryn was done.
"Or maybe it was telling the truth," came the reply as Kathryn slipped her hand into mine and gave it a squeeze, and I couldn't help but grin from ear to ear.
"Or maybe a combination of the two," I said with a slight smile.
"Maybe so." After that the conversation diverted to 'work' topics, but Kathryn never let go of my hand except to get up to get us fresh drinks. Joyce watched her go, then turned to me with an intent expression on her face.
"So, you and Kathryn. I like it. You're good together."
"Um, yeah..." I said, my smile sticking although her intensity gave me slight pause.
"And what does her ex think of everything? And her son?" she asked, cutting right to the chase.
"They're both... fine," I said, still unable to prevent myself from feeling a little surprised as I said. "Even Jonas, surprisingly."
"Well, teenagers are quite resilient, aren't they? Still, I'm glad. And well done, by the way," she added, smirking. "I'm assuming you got your toaster by now?"
"What? Oh! Hah." I made a face. "I haven't really thought about... that stuff. To be honest. You know?"
"Of course not. This is real life. Still, you never wonder?" she asked, arching an eyebrow.
"About what?"
"Oh... nevermind," Joyce said, spotting Kathryn making her way through the crowd with two glasses of white wine in hand. "It's not important. As long as you two are happy."
Okay, now I was curious. "Hey, no, wonder what?" I pressed, glancing over at Kathryn, who seemed to be about to be waylaid anyway.
"Oh, just that you're the first woman she's ever been with. It's not an easy mantle to wear sometimes," the lawyer said, obviously unbothered about talking about this if I was.
"Surely it's easier," I said with a slight smile. "No one to compare me to."
"True, but if she doesn't know how good she's got it then she'll always wonder..."
I frowned a little. "I don't think she thinks that way." She didn't, did she?
"Of course not. Like I said, it's not important." Joyce smiled. "Just idle musings of an old butch dyke. Don't mind me."
"Right," I murmured, nodding slowly. Great. Now I'm going to worry about that all night.
Kathryn returned soon after with our drinks, and we chatted with Joyce for a bit longer before she excused herself to chat up some other likely-looking member of the teaching staff. I knew I shouldn't have let her words get to me, but by now they had wormed their way into my head and I could think of little else.
Remembering the promise we'd made to each other that first day in my flat, I didn't leave it long before saying something. "Kat..." I murmured quietly, leaning a little closer as the professor to whom Kathryn had been speaking milled off somewhere else. "Do you ever think about the fact that... you've never been with another woman. I mean, other than me."
"Pardon?" This obviously hadn't been an expected question. "Alex, sweetheart, what brought this on?"
Glancing around guiltily I eventually settled on lifting my glass a little. "Bubbles?"
"Well, no more of those in the future for you," she chuckled, though I could tell she was a bit worried. "Of course I don't think about that, Alex. Why would I?"
"I dunno. I mean, you're only human..."
"And? Alex, the only woman I've ever wondered about being with is you. And now I am, so... Why would I want anything else?"
"I know, I know, sorry," I said, making a face. "Sorry, it was just a stupid question."
"Have I done something wrong?" Kathryn pressed. "Tell me if I have, love, please."
"Oh, no, no," I said, turning a little toward her and placing a hand on her arm. "Not even slightly. No, it was just something Joyce said, she asked if I'd ever wondered... and, well, I hadn't. But I suppose I am now."
Kathryn made a face. "Joyce is a troublemaker. To be honest, I've had my whole life to 'wonder' about that sort of thing. But now that I have you, why waste the time?"
I nodded. "I know. I do know. Really, don't think about it. I didn't mean to be a pain..."
"You're never a pain." Kathryn glanced around for a moment and then grinned, taking my hand and tugging me to my feet. "Come with me."
"What? Where?" I followed along as Kathryn pulled me across the floor without a word of explanation. I knew that expression though, and it made my stomach dip a little in anticipation.
We were on a floor of the main university library which had been converted into conference and meeting space, meaning the restrooms had been refitted along with them and were now nigh-on palatial, and it was in here that I was now being dragged. Kathryn pulled me into one of lacquered wood stalls and shut the door, pushing me up against it with a clatter of the lock.
"There is one woman I fantasize about, quite a bit," she murmured then, pressing close to me and sliding a hand under my shirt. "Can't seem to keep my thoughts off her, actually..."
I smirked a little. "Oh yes? Should I be jealous?"
"I don't know, are you the jealous type? Because if so..." Kathryn chuckled and leaned in, nipping at my earlobe as her fingers slid deftly over my stomach, causing a ripple of excitement to run through me. If I hadn't been turned on already I certainly would have been now.
Her fingers continued their upward path, sliding over the fabric of my bra and then tugging first one cup and then the other down insistently, flicking over my already-erect nipples. Her mouth moved to cover mine and she kissed me deeply, pressing my whole body back against the stall door as her nimble fingers continued to trace and tease my breasts.
I hummed with pleasure, squirming both due to her touch and to help her hand slide beneath my waistband, but she seemed to have other ideas, both hands going to work my fly loose, sliding my trousers down over my hips. "Hey," I hissed, "you can't-"
"Well if you won't wear a skirt," she chuckled, hooking her fingers in my boy-cut briefs and tugging them down as well.
"You'll mess up your make-up..." I warned, sucking in a breath as her teeth caught my nipple through my thin shirt.
With another glance up at me Kathryn grinned and then knelt, taking hold of my hips as her lips moved lower, over my stomach and then to my thighs. I bit back a cry as I heard the bathroom door open; Kathryn's hands tightened and she continued to tease me with her lips and tongue as whoever it was outside the stall turned on the taps and began their ablutions.
Her hand caught my ankle, lifted my foot to rest it on the toilet lid, and I almost lost my balance as her mouth moved between my legs, clamping my own hand over my mouth, the other flattening against the cubicle wall. Kathryn's tongue worked enthusiastically, pulsing against me, and when she slipped one of her fingers inside me I thought I would cry out loudly enough for the whole gathering to hear me, much less whoever was in the bathroom with us, but I managed to keep it down to a low moan, an echoing growl of Kathryn's that reverberated through my pelvis.
The tap suddenly shut off and I could hear the clack of heels on the tile and the sweep of the door opening and closing. Kathryn took this as encouragement to renew her efforts, and it wasn't long before I came, hard, my legs almost buckling beneath me, and Kathryn stood, quickly, wrapping her arms around me tightly, kissing me deeply and then burying her face in my neck.
"Definitely worth some smudged lipstick, don't you think?" she murmured with a chuckle. My first answer was to turn my head to catch her lips with mine again.
"I love you so much," I murmured, licking my lips and tasting myself there. "You're unbelievable."
She grinned against my mouth. "I believe that was you..."
"Mm, I don't think so," I said as we pulled apart, smiling. "I wonder who that was..." I mused, casting my eyes to the cubicle door.
"Whoever it was, I hope they were thoroughly scandalized. You should've been louder," Kathryn said with a smirk, kneeling once again to help me with my trousers.
"I think I was probably quite loud enough. I can't believe you..."
She placed a kiss on my bare thigh, then stood, pulling my trousers over my hips and playing with the fly. "Believe me when I say that I have never wanted any other woman the way I want you, and if I have to shag you in every bathroom in the university to prove it, then by God I will."
"Oh, sweetheart, I never meant to..."
"Sh, it's okay. I know. It's okay to worry sometimes - as long as you tell me, yeah?"
Winding my fingers through Kathryn's hair, I nodded. "I always will. I promise."
"Good. Now let's get back to the party and see who refuses to meet our eyes."