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1.
Devon, England, April 1995.
THE THUDDNG INSIDE GABI’Shead this morning, like every morning, had a regular beat. It held her attention, like when she used to watch the pendulum of her nana’s grandfather clock as a young child. Tick, not knowing, and tock, waiting to find out. She would ignore her papa’s raised voice coming from behind closed doors and fantasise about girl pirates battling against each other on majestic ships in search of treasure. She would become one of them, and the ticking clock served as the clash of pirates’ blades.
Hypnotised by the rhythm, she drifted in and out of a hazy sleep, with no care for the time or day. The weight across her chest came from the arm of the woman she’d brought home, who now lay too close for comfort. There was a foggy memory of who she was. Her search through her half-awakened brain for any recollection of the previous evening revealed a blank.It had been fun though, hadn’t it?She couldn’t recall anything to justify her optimism.
She forced her eyes open. Even with the blinding pain, this woman looked sweet and thankfully, not familiar. Women who clung on like they’d won first prize because she’d spent the night with them were a total turn off. Clingy women reminded her too much of the part of herself that she hated. She’d avoided being that way with her policy of one-time-only fucking that she’d adopted after Shay had left her. Shay hadn’t been clingy. Shay had been perfect.
Until she’d told Gabi she didn’t love her.
What’s her name?Her head screamed for relief from the constant battering and the strain of trying to think. She needed to extract herself from the human clamp that pinned her to the bed and go to the loo. That last tequila shot had been the killer. The woman taking up two thirds of her bed was a Capricorn. Gabi had listened to her promoting the merits of being guided by star signs for the best chance at a relationship while being guided by the best part of a bottle of vodka at the bar. Capricorn was single and totally into horror-scopes, as Gabi called them, and the irony of Capricorn’s personal situation hadn’t been lost on Gabi. Despite her disbelief, Gabi knew quite a bit about star signs from watching the daily horoscopes on early morning TV, which was fascinatingly addictive. She’d told the woman she was a Taurus because that would make them totally compatible. Gabi hadn’t deliberately misled her, she’d just told Capricorn what she’d wanted to hear, as she always did. She’d known the sex between them would be fiery. Sex was about all an Aries had in common with a Capricorn, so it had been a safe lie because Capricorn would leave in the morning feeling great. Though her justifications didn’t stop the sober truth gripping, and self-disgust leaving a bitter taste in her mouth. This wasn’t who she was; it was who she had become since Shay.
The thumping in her head demanded she take some pills. She picked up her phone and stared at the blurred screen until the numbers finally registered. Ten-thirty. “Shit.”
It took effort to prise Capricorn off so Gabi could slip from the bed. Judging by the array of clothes scattered across the floor, it must have been a hell of a night. Gabi cleared her throat because she still couldn’t recall the woman’s name—maybe she’d never asked her—and hoped the noise would wake her. She continued to sleep like the dead. Shit, her head hurt, and still there was nothing that resembled a waking sign from Sleeping Beauty.
Gabi stripped the covers off the bed and revealed the woman’s slender body. Her breasts were the kind she could bury her face in, though she couldn’t recall doing that. The woman’s beautifully shaped nipples stood out against her paler skin. “Nice legs.” A twinge of early morning desire stirred, but she wouldn’t go there and prolong the inevitable that would just encourage something more than she really wanted to offer. Besides, she had more important things to do. She nudged the woman’s shoulder. “Come on, sleepy head. I’ve got to work.”
Capricorn yawned and opened her eyes. “Hey, lover.”
Gabi laughed. “Yeah, right. Come on, baby girl. Get your sweet ass up and out of here so I can get going.”
The woman huffed and lowered her eyes. She blinked rapidly and rolled her tongue around her bottom lip. Gabi couldn’t be drawn into her sulk-for-sex appeal because it might lead to a misunderstanding with respect to the one-night-only policy. She chucked the woman’s clothes at her and quickly dressed herself. She would shower after Capricorn had left just in case the woman decided to act on the desire that, judging by the way she looked Gabi up and down, was clearly streaming salacious thoughts through her mind.
“There’s juice in the fridge,” Gabi said, putting on her trainers.
“Any coffee?”
She had coffee, but she didn’t have time for it to brew and them to sit around chatting. She had Nana’s birthday bash to get to, and she had to finish the gifts she’d made before heading to Nana’s house. She wrinkled her nose at the thought of letting Capricorn down. One time or not, it was always hard to boot a woman out of her bed the next morning. It would be so much easier if they just upped and left, and she didn’t have to engage with them. “Can’t. I’m running late.”
Capricorn shimmered towards her and stroked her cheek. The smell of sex lingered on her fingers. In the thundering of her hangover and the ache in her heart that reminded her that this wasn’t what she really wanted, Capricorn was quickly becoming less appealing, while Gabi’s self-disgust gained momentum. It was starting to feel all a little too familiar—too claustrophobic. Gabi ushered her down the stairs.
“Spoilsport.” She pouted and headed out the door. She wiggled her backside as she walked down the communal hallway.
Gabi closed the door. She leaned her head back against the wood, inhaled deeply, and savoured the lighter feeling that replaced the tension of having a stranger in her home. She didn’t really pick the women she slept with. They approached her at the bar where she worked. She rarely turned them down, because spending the night with someone was preferable to spending it alone. But even with the attention, she was lonely.
Pills. Where were the pills? Coffee, strong and hot, then a shower. The shower gel that gave off a great menthol hit when the water was roasting hot would do the trick.
By the time Gabi sat down to work on the gifts, the fog in her mind had lifted a little, though her hands still trembled and made it a challenge to embroider her nana’s name, Estrella, onto the white cotton handkerchief. She polished the silver butterfly brooch she’d made to make sure it was perfectly clean, set it in a presentation box, and wrapped it in the finest gold-coloured paper she’d acquired from the card shop in town. Her heart swelled as she imagined the joy in Nana’s eyes and her big smile of appreciation.
It was a short walk from her place to Nana’s, and although the wind always whipped across the fields no matter what the season, the breeze, the pills, and the warmth of the sun combined to lift the last of her hangover.
Nana and Grandpa had bought their farmhouse when they arrived in England in 1939, and other than the occasional lick of paint, its appearance hadn’t been altered over the years. The sandstone was her favourite stone, and its large glass windows drew in the sun, making it bright and warm inside. It had a quaint thatched roof that gave it a quirky character, and a slightly musky smell in Gabi’s old bedroom that she’d become accustomed to. She loved the farmhouse, because it was a part of Nana, and Nana was a part of it. It was where Gabi had spent her childhood because her dad had been away sailing the seas. The farmhouse would always be home to her, something she’d never managed to achieve with the flat she rented. Sometimes, she wished she’d never moved out, but independence had won the day back then, when she’d started seeing women.
The wraparound garden always had something new going on. The rose bushes Nana had planted recently had lots of tiny buds on them that would ease themselves into full bloom for the summer. The lavender scent gave way to a floral aroma from the early spring flowers as she reached the open front door and, hovering at the threshold, Gabi got a whiff of the freshly baked sweetened bread.
“Cariño, Gabriela, come in, come in. I have to rescue the torta before it cremates.”
Nana had set her white mop of hair, though Gabi wondered what the point was given she’d managed to cover herself in flour and heaven knows what else she’d got splattered on her face and red blouse.
“Happy birthday, Nana.” She put the gifts on the only clear space she could see.
Nana plonked the hot flan onto the kitchen surface, shut the oven door, dumped the oven mittens on the surface, and stepped towards Gabi with open arms. The twinkle in her eyes hadn’t faded with the years. She looked better than ever, as though she’d been given a new lease of life.
“Come here, Gabriela,” she said.
Gabi enjoyed the warm hug and the tenderness in Nana’s tone. She released a deep breath. “So, how’s the birthday girl?”
