The luminescent hands on her watch read 3.05 when Caroline squinted at them in the dark of her bedroom. The insipid glow radiated enough light to reveal the mound of Gillian's body lying next to her under the duvet but not much else. She rolled over, sighing heavily, wondering if she should get more water for her pounding head or disregard it and trust it would go away. She screwed up her face and ignored it for ten minutes, hoping it would fade magically into the background. No such luck; action would be the only way to be rid of it.

Caroline slid out of bed and stealthily padded downstairs, relieved Ruth didn't hear her and follow. She found water and paracetamol and sat quietly in the kitchen, lit eerily by an orange triangle of light from the stairs.

That was the problem of day drinking, she reminded herself. It was always followed by the inevitable early night, vague nausea and troubling insomnia. She gulped down the pills and scowled at her hand bag squatting innocently on the kitchen bench like it wasn't housing a cheque for four hundred thousand pounds, which seemed a lot of zeros to casually write on a cheque.

"Nothing like being obscenely wealthy," she muttered under her breath before drowning the ungrateful thought with more water.

Judith had surprised her. Life rarely surprised her any more, but Judith had overturned the chessboard yesterday with an unexpected boat ride. What was startling her now was how vividly she recalled the exquisite flavours of the wine that had made more than her tongue wet. She squirmed a little on her seat as a sensual surge ran through her body while velvet flavours coated the tongue of her memory.

That awkward thought was trampled by thoughts of Judith herself. For the first time the ex's ex had revealed something of herself that shone a light under the sarcastic exterior. For every morsel of information Caroline had revealed, Judith had matched her until both women were sharing long-held truths they normally shielded from view. She'd breached Judith's defences one by one, each layer a glittering distraction like a vicious Sara Lee cake, each one camouflage for the damage inflicted by shitty parenting and poor choices. The hollowed-out shell in the centre echoed Judith's messy fears of never being taken seriously. Caroline had seen the author screaming into the void, desperate for significance. Stepping under the armaments had shown her why Judith's writing operated like a psychological fail safe. She wondered why Judith seemed so blind to this, then remembered John's complete lack of self-awareness in this regard. Perhaps that was how authors functioned, she surmised.

In contrast, Caroline's truths—stingily doled out like breadcrumbs for her lovers, enough to keep them intrigued but never in such quantity they satiated the palette—had been spilled onto the table for examination in the warm afternoon sun. Caroline had admitted, gulping down wine and tears, that in her rawest form, if she was truly known, she was terrified the bearer of such knowledge would find her unloveable, or at the very least, less charming and less intelligent than she wanted to be. John, the obsequious little shit, had nailed it when he'd unearthed some of the deep pain that surrounded it, making her feel drab and useless, and her mother, the ceaselessly critical bitch, had made sure Caroline had known this singular, devastating fact from the moment she was born. And now Judith had this knowledge; she suspected Kate had guessed most of it after having a ringside seat to the disintegration of Caroline's ostensibly perfect family life and Kate had been more aware than John. God Bless him for losing Judith, too. Served him right, the fucking lying cheating bastard.

Caroline shook her head slowly, still not quite sure how Judith had taken so many of her pawns, rooks, and knights on the way to her queen but she had. She wondered if Judith's revelations of having done something shittier, dumber and crueler than anything Caroline had ever done had led her to revealing more than she normally would in a moronic, upside down game of one-upmanship. She chuckled at some of Judith's revelations; the smoking at school, getting her allowance cut for shagging the butler of some toff friend of her dad's, the resultant termination, crashing her dad's new car while pissed, two-timing twins in college, shagging her English professor during what she described as her 'year as a living cliche', the screaming matches with her mum and of course, the raging alcoholism that followed the same pattern of her dad in all his destructive glory.

Caroline's confessions were tame by comparison, and yet more precious for their mundanity. She simply wanted to be loved for who she was. Lying beside that precious gem was the need to 'fit in' and yet be brilliant at the same time, and she'd only recently understood the two would never sit quietly in one another's company. She'd realised she'd settled for brilliant, not understanding the need that prickled underneath it was actually respect, only a very specific type of respect that was rarely, if ever, granted to women; respect for intellect and accomplishment.

Judith had understood it completely. It was one of the reasons Judith pushed herself so hard, and Caroline could relate to that. Once she'd recognised that was a prime motivator for Judith, it had all clicked into place. In that moment Caroline could see herself in Judith, could see the need to be respected for her intellect and achievements too. She'd felt a symbiosis with Judith, a sense of warrior women fighting together in a world built by men, for men, to the exclusion of women. She was never going to forget the past—the thieving of a husband who'd wanted to be stolen—but now she truly comprehended what had driven Judith to do it and she could move beyond it. It surprised her how in that moment she believed Judith, too, had deserved better than John.

As Caroline sat on the stool in the kitchen, she reflected on the other women who'd challenged her, stuck with her, and loved her long enough to get through some of her barriers. Kate had quietly snuck inside like a cat burglar who'd side-stepped all of Caroline's warning signs and booby traps until she'd surprised Caroline with an overwhelming tenderness that scared the living daylights out of a 45 year-old living a heterosexual lie like her life depended on it.

Then there was Gillian, who'd gatecrashed her way through Caroline's defences one by one over the years, eventually drunk-dancing her way into Caroline's heart with joy and irreverence when she'd no right to, until Caroline was completely beguiled by her courage and daring in the face of the insurmountable obstacles of a truly rubbish hand dealt by life. At least with Gillian she didn't need to flay herself open; Gillian seemed to understand so much of the unspoken. That had grown into a healthy respect for each other over the years and with it came the elusive acceptance they both needed.

Thinking more about the damaged pixie with a kind heart, filthy mouth and talented fingers who shared her bed, Caroline smiled, stood up and placed the glass quietly in the sink. She looked out over the dark valley below, streetlights in the distance strung up like tiny Christmas lights along dark ribbon streets. It was time for bed and if she was lucky, a snuggle with said pixie. Perhaps sleep would claim her again before dawn.


"Morning sleepyhead. How's your new girlfriend?" Gillian asked later that morning, turning from washing up after Flora's breakfast to find Caroline walking slowly into the kitchen.

"She's not my new girlfriend," Caroline muttered.

"Old girlfriend?"

"No, that's you."

"So you're saying I'm old?"

Caroline shook her head gently, careful not to make any sudden moves with her still-foggy head. "Stop twisting my words. I'm vulnerable this morning."

Gillian mocked with an, "Oooooooh," before adding, "A bit too much to drink yesterday, perhaps?"

"You've no sympathy."

Gillian chuckled. "Not really. You drank a bottle of wine more expensive than my house, and DIDN'T INVITE ME!"

"Shhh. I'm sorry—"

"Not that I'd have wanted to be there for the inquisition, mind."

"No, probably not."

"Never know what I might say…"

There was silence while they both remembered the first time they were drunk together. Caroline murmured, "Best not to…"

"No," Gillian added somberly. After a moment, her face brightened and she gleefully added, "But if I get a posh bottle of wine for you, you'll sing like a canary?"

"Possibly," Caroline hedged until Gillian's smirking prodded her to admit, "Probably." She looked sideways at Gillian's hands dripping suds into the sink. "Am I not loquacious enough for you normally?"

"Oh, big word. Bet that'd be hard to say when you're pissed on posh wine."

Caroline mockingly glared at her, wondering when her sluggish brain would wake up.

"Bet your new girlfriend likes big words like that."

Caroline groused. "Not my girlfriend."

"Yeah. Main squeeze? Vertical vibrator? Shag on legs?"

Caroline guffawed. "That's you, you twat!" She muttered, "Six A.M. and you were just about humping my leg…"

Gillian smirked. "You were there…the opportunity arose…and YOU SAID 'YES!'"

Caroline chuckled affectionately. "Shhh. Only because you asked so nicely."

"No, I didn't. You're just always up for it."

"I can't help that!" Caroline swished her hips from side to side before admitting in a quieter voice, "You wind me up like a bloody…and then wonder why I'm all over you?"

Gillian shook the water off her hands, drying them on a tea towel before sliding them around Caroline's waist. "Ever wonder why I do it?"

"Yes, well, I have some ideas about it…"

"You numpty. I love winding you up." Gillian pressed in closer, tilting her head so her lips could reach Caroline's tempting neck. "One of the joys of my life, doing that. I have to have sommat to fantasise about while tending me sheep."

Caroline sighed dreamily, the light kisses on her neck proving more than a little distracting.

"Mum! Mum!" Flora burst into the room at full throttle. "Can we go to Elevenses for morning tea? I'd like to try the lapsang souchong this time; I read they pick the tiny leaves for it by hand. You said we'd go if I finished cleaning my room."

Caroline gave a final squeeze of Gillian's ever tempting buttocks and then stepped out of her lover's arms to gaze lovingly at Flora. "I did, didn't I." She looked quizzically at Gillian. "Want to join us? I promised Flora we'd go this morning."

Gillian watched with fondness at Flora's inordinate excitement. The small version of her posh mum had just discovered a range of specialty black teas in a new cafe and was clever about cajoling her mum into taking her there, not that Caroline needed a lot of persuasion when tea and cake were involved.

"Sure. Why not? We could stop at the store on the way back and pick up something for dinner, unless you want leftovers."


"You're staring."

"No I'm not!" Gillian huffed under her breath.

"Yes, you are."

"Can't help it. He's gorgeous."

Caroline rolled her eyes, unseen by Gillian whose attention was focused on the attractive physique of the trim young person bending over to pick up something from the bottom shelf in the supermarket, the long, muscular arms rippling with each lithe movement. Caroline whispered into Gillian's ear, "He may well be, Gillian, but aren't you beyond ogling men the same age as your son?"

"I'm not—"

"You are."

"Not," Gillian grumbled, despite knowing she was doing exactly that and behaving like a five year old to boot. It had been a while since she'd seen such a glorious specimen, and this one had the temerity to wear a flannel shirt with the sleeves cut off better than she did. Handsome bastard.

Caroline gasped in recognition as the mesmerising figure turned around and noticed the small audience.

"Dr. McKenzie-Dawson. Good afternoon," Zara purred, their lyrical voice swirling around the women like a henna spell.

Gillian stood transfixed by the magic of Zara's transformation from handsome young man to gorgeous, vaguely womanish person who gave off a butch confidence along with mascara and purple eye shadow. Gillian was trying to do an instant re-evaluation from casually enjoying some afternoon eye-candy to wondering how the hell Caroline was going to keep her tongue in her mouth with this God/Goddess of temptation. This person was perfectly designed to trigger Caroline's desire; lustrous wavy dark hair, rich brown skin that glowed healthily, a lean muscular build and a slightly butch attitude that signposted the ability to seduce a woman, give her plenty of orgasms and throw her around the bed as needed. To make matters worse, they were gazing at Caroline with a bewitched grin. Gillian eyes narrowed as jealously leaked out every pore.

"Zara. Hello. Hi." Caroline stumbled over her words before taking a moment to let her mouth catch up with her brain as she blurted, "You've had a haircut!"

Zara nodded, reaching up to run long, elegant fingers through the short hair on the back of their head. Gazing wistfully at Caroline, they asked hopefully, "D'you like it?"

Caroline nodded back, enchanted by the motion of hair running seductively through Zara's fingers. She shook her head, adding "I almost didn't recognise you without your uniform." Her eyes travelled down the well defined biceps, looking for the expected ink that wasn't there.

"It's nice to see you in your civvies, too," Zara replied without missing a beat, their smirk not lost on the flustered professional who appeared anything but polished.

"Zara, this is my partner, Gillian. Gillian, this is Zara, who…" Caroline paused as if unsure how to finish the sentence, but on cue, Gillian jumped into the breach.

"Thank you for seeing Caroline to and from the clutches of Cruella."

Zara struggled to stifle a laugh, not wanting to show any disloyalty to their employer but enjoying the barb. "I've got to go or I'll be late." Gazing longingly at Caroline, weight shifting from one leg to the other as they took a leisurely look up and down Caroline's body, openly checking her out. "Same time next week?"

Gillian cleared her throat and stepped in front of Caroline, blocking Zara's view. "Lovely to meet you," she said, a sliver of steel threading through her voice in warning. "Caroline's partner," she stated with purpose, thrusting out her hand for Zara to shake.

Zara nodded, proffering her hand until it was wrapped in Gillian's strong grip. They watched each other closely, like warriors circling, looking for an opening.

"Nice to meet you..." There was a long pause before Zara added, "Gillian."

Gillian held onto Zara's hand, shaking it far longer than social protocol would dictate. She released the hand after giving it a tight warning squeeze. She stood taller, all 5'3 of her, and a smile lit up her face like the past two minutes of posturing hadn't occurred. "Saw the motor. Bentley Mulsanne. Very nice."

Zara's attitude transformed from cool, calm and collected at the mention of the limousine and flared into a gentle excitement. "It's brilliant to drive."

"I'm sure. Don't get to see them often," Gillian admitted. "Long wheelbase?"

"Yep," Zara added proudly, as if they were responsible for the idea of it. "Extra leg room in the back. Seats like first class in 'airplane. Six and a half, twin turbo V8. Lots of grunt; drives like a dream."

Gillian nodded in response, impressed. She was about to continue, enjoying discussing the mechanics of a motor she'd never get her hands on when Caroline jumped in.

"Lovely to see you Zara." Wrapping her fingers gently around Gillian's wrist, she added, "Time to go, sweetheart."

Zara looked at Caroline again, this time a fresh understanding was in their eyes. They tilted their head in acknowledgement, the glint of hope obvious in their eyes when they repeated, "Next week?"

"We'll see," Caroline hedged. "Enjoy your weekend. Nice running into you." Caroline watched as Zara almost saluted goodbye. An appreciative smile lit Caroline's face as her gaze followed Zara turning to put another bottle of water in their trolley, enjoying the lustre of brown skin over lean biceps as Zara moved.

"She's nicer than I thought," Gillian offered, trying to be friendly.

"I think it's 'they.'"

"Knows cars; can't be all bad."

Caroline chuckled, adding distractedly, "Is that so?"

"Yep. Everyone knows that."

"Okay," agreed Caroline, her eyes still following Zara as they walked down the aisle.

"They like you."

"Do they?" Caroline asked not really listening, her focus still on the leggy brunette walking away from her.

"NOW who's gawking?" Gillian asked pointedly, daring to nudge Caroline in the ribs.

Caroline eventually turned to face her, leaning in slightly before adding with a smirk, "Shh. Following your lead, my dear."