CHAPTER5
At the end of the road, turn right.
‘Of course I’m looking forward to it! Why wouldn’t I be? These women were my entire life back then!’
‘You seem a little on edge, Rebecca, that’s all. I just wondered if there was something else going on. Maybe something a little deeper that perhaps you haven’t acknowledged yet.’
‘Like what?’
Christine flipped the indicator to the right and sat at the junction, despite the road being clear enough to proceed. ‘Hmm, I think you’ll find that’s a question only you can answer.’
Becky grimaced. That tone of voice. That accent. It never used to be as grating.
When she’d first heard Christine speak at a mindfulness retreat two years ago, she’d been positively captivated. That soft English accent, soothing yet commanding. She thought she’d never tire of hearing it.
Hmm, I think you’ll find that’s a question only you can answer.
She’d thought wrong.
Becky pursed her lips and bobbed her head like she was contemplating her girlfriend’s words. It was almost like appeasing her. Recently, she found herself doing that a lot but considered it par for the course when dating a psychologist. They needed that, right? To have their thoughts and opinions taken seriously, regardless of whether those thoughts and opinions were actually solicited or not.
Becky sat quietly, reminding herself that everything would be OK. That they would continue to work through their issues withmutual love and respect. Becky thought that two years was an awfully short time to already be having relationship issues, but Christine had assured her that it was quite normal, especially when one party (Becky) had come into that relationship with unresolved issues, issues she wasn’t aware of until Christine informed her that they existed.
Continuing to sit at the empty junction, Christine removed a bobble from her wrist and began sweeping her hair back, forming a sleek, brown ponytail. Unlike Becky’s wavy blonde, unruly mop, her hair was straight and thin and always sat perfectly. She was wearing it like that the night they first met, when Christine had approached her and said:
‘So, you’re the massage maestro? I’ve been hearing great things.’
Becky had looked up from her phone and smiled. It was the first genuine smile she’d given that day, a day in which she’d been run off her feet promoting her new massage training courses to guests who’d paid ridiculous amounts of money to try and live in the moment. Still, the hotel they were staying in was gorgeous and now it seemed like Becky’s evening might be far more interesting that she first thought.
‘Christine, right?’ she replied, feeling her cheeks flush a little. It was the woman with the gorgeous voice from earlier. ‘Rebecca… well, Becky. Nice to meet you.’
‘Rebecca is a beautiful name. May I join you?’
So, there is a God. Sister Harvey from St. Mary’s was right all along.
‘Sure, that would be nice,’ Becky replied. ‘I hate to drink alone and I intend to have several.’
As Christine held her gaze, Becky felt her heart leap against her chest wall. ‘Great,’ she replied, to an increasingly red-faced Becky, ‘Let me just grab a wine list.’
It had been eight months since Becky had had her heart broken by Stephen, and while her self-confidence was pretty much in the toilet, she knew a big old dirty flirt when she saw it. However, it was the first time in a while she’d been hit on by someone who didn’t have facial piercings, a sleeve tattoo or a PhD in applying unnecessarily thick black eyeliner. She was flattered if somewhat confused. Maybe, just maybe she’d finally met someone who had their shit together.
Relax, for God’s sake. You’re just having a drink with the woman, it’s really not that deep.
Christine returned with the wine list and handed it to Becky. ‘They do a wonderful chablis. The merlot is also fine, but it needs to be decanted.’
Becky knew nothing about wine, generally choosing a bottle based on the discount the supermarket happened to be offering. ‘Chablis is good,’ she replied, briefly browsing the list. Christine smiled and returned to the bar to order.
Two hours and one bottle of overpriced chablis later, and the bar was filling up quickly with guests from the conference. But Becky found herself absolutely enthralled by Christine. She’d never met anyone like her.
‘So, both of your parents are doctors? That’s impressive.’
Christine bobbed her head while she poured the last of the wine. ‘Surgeons actually. They were a little disappointed I didn’t follow suit. I prefer to look inside someone’s head without actually cutting it open.’
Becky laughed. ‘I think my folks wanted me to be either a nun or a teacher. Something faith based at least. They live in Valencia now, probably within polishing distance of Holy Grail.’
‘Ah,’ Christine replied. ‘Religious, huh?’
‘Paragons of virtue,’ Becky said with a smile. ‘My ma especially. Way back, her side of the family were travellers, some not so morally upright as she discovered. I think she’s trying to repent on their behalf.’
