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Charlie scratched her palm. It had been a long time since she cared about how anyone was really feeling. She wanted to say the right thing but couldn’t find the words.
“She didn’t even raise me anyway. It was all my nan after my dad left,” Elda said.
“Your mum sounds angry with the world. I’m sorry you’re having to deal with it.” Charlie reached for Elda’s hand but stopped herself.The last thing she needs is more complications. She just needs a friend.
Charlie steered the conversation away from family drama and they swapped stories, chatting easily over their cold beer and warm pies. Elda shared her hopes and fears for the next few months. Charlie drank in her passion and trepidation.
Time flew by, and she didn’t notice the sun setting behind them until they stood to make their way to their home for the weekend.
The country house sat on a sharp bend along a single-track road. The corner bricks were painted bright white as a warning to oncoming drivers on the blind corner. At the back, it extended into the countryside, with rolling fields on both sides and views towards the hills. In the dark, Charlie could only see the twinkling of the neighbours’ lights in the distant village. She pinched herself. This place was pretty good most years but with Elda’s company, it would be near perfect.
They stripped off their coats and jumpers in the stone porch, with Elda hopping on one leg while Charlie helped pull her boots. Two cats squawked their greetings.
“I know, I know. You haven’t eaten for hours.” Charlie put the kettle on and set about feeding her furry friends.
“Shit, my feet are killing me,” Elda said.
“Bathroom’s at the top of the stairs. Help yourself. I’ll get the kettle on.”
Elda headed upstairs, and Charlie heard the bathroom door shut before the low growl of the boiler kicked in. She opened drawers and rustled through cupboards to see if she could conjure up a meal later. She had to keep herself busy. It was a bit much knowing Elda was undressing with just a ceiling between them.
She smiled as a cloud of steam emerged from the kettle. There was a familiarity about this scene from her daydreams. She blinked away the feeling and poured the hot water into the heavy-bottomed mugs to make tea. She climbed the stairs and hesitated outside the bathroom. “Your tea is ready when you are. I’ll pop it in the guest room,” Charlie said, shuffling from one foot to another on the soft carpet.
“Bring it in for me, Charlie. It’ll be cold by the time I’m out.”
Charlie looked up at the ceiling and clamped her jaw tight. She thought about the boundaries she had set herself.I’m in control.She opened the door, set the tea on the edge of the bath, and turned to make a swift exit.
“Sit and talk to me,” Elda said, as if nothing was amiss.
Charlie forced herself into the chair in the corner. Elda was covered in bubbles and just her head and knees were visible above the surface of the water. Her hair was dripping wet and scraped back from her forehead, and her skin glistened with water and heat.
Charlie tried to ease her back into the chair, but nothing about this situation was relaxing. “I was thinking about going to Denmark this summer. A cabin on the beach, maybe.” Her skin was crawling, and she didn’t know where to rest her eyes. There were mirrors and reflective glass everywhere. “Someone at work mentioned it. They go every year with their family.” Charlie was spiralling, and she had no idea what to say next. She stared at the bath. It stood on elaborate legs in the middle of the room, deep purple on the outside. It was luxury that neither of them were used to.
“That would be cool. Just you and me on the beach. You could read, and I could paint.”
Charlie’s stomach lurched at the assumption Elda would join her. A secluded cabin for two in the Danish rushes would be heaven. “What are you working on?” Charlie had been waiting for a moment to probe Elda about her art.
“I’m not. Not since before Paris. There hasn’t been the space.” Elda closed her eyes, and her tone flattened. “I haven’t had anything in me.”
“Sorry. I shouldn’t have brought it up.” Charlie’s gaze fell onto Elda’s arms and moved up to her face. Her breath came faster, and she blushed as her heart raced.
“No, it’s not you. It’s just everything. But this has been a lovely day. Thank you.”
Elda drew her knees out of the water and dipped her head under. Her movement revealed the outline of her breasts. It was too much. Charlie stood up and busied herself smoothing out the thick bath sheet. “Don’t let your tea go cold. I’ll go and start the fire.” She pulled the door behind her and screwed her eyes shut. Her hands rose to her temples in an attempt to rub away the last few seconds. She gripped the rail on the way down the stone staircase, desperate to regain some control.
The heavy door to the living room was ajar, and she flicked the two light switches. The room was bathed in a warm light and for a moment, Charlie wanted to disappear into one of the giant sofas. Her head swam. She had played many versions of this evening through her mind, but she had pushed all hope of anything more than friendship with Elda from her mind when she left for Paris. When Elda chose Francis and her new job, Charlie had shut her feelings down. She’d got on with work and focussed on her career, even if it made her world a bit empty. But now Elda was back, everything had changed. Feelings had stirred in Charlie, and she was terrified of her own instincts.
Her breath was ragged, and she blew out a thin stream, trying to slow her heart rate. She began to dust the remains of last night’s embers. She tied newspaper into loose knots and stacked a pyramid of kindling and logs. It took three strikes to make a flame, and her shaking hand moved towards the firelighters she had buried.
The flames burst to life, and she was hypnotised by its power. There was nothing, and then there was everything. She closed her eyes, overwhelmed by unresolved feelings. She had buried them all so deep, she’d hoped they were gone.
Elda’s shadow filled the doorway. She’d changed into a pair of pyjamas and Charlie’s dressing gown. The ease with which Elda moved in Charlie’s space made it even harder for Charlie to keep her distance. “Elda, I need to talk to you. There’s something going on here that I can’t really explain. Since you came back, I’ve been a bit all over the place, and I’ve got to the point where it’s all or nothing.” She froze. She wasn’t sure whether she could be this honest.
Charlie tried to work through all the possible ways this evening could end. She had visions of Elda storming back upstairs and gathering her things. Charlie would cry, and then she’d go back to work on Monday and get over it. Or Elda would understand how she was feeling. Maybe they could talk about it. Perhaps being honest would strengthen their friendship.
Charlie held her breath, and the pulse in her temple grew thunderous. Paralysed with fear, she could no longer bury her feelings. She wanted to hold Elda, strip away all her insecurities. Charlie wanted to kiss her and touch her skin. To touch every part of her. Elda had woken a hunger for connection that Charlie had long since put to bed.
“Hey, take a breath.” Elda touched her hand.
