So. Apologies for the aching chasms of time between updates on this story, but I'm running four shows at Edinburgh Festival and it's pretty damn tiring. But all of that pales into insignificance with the news that SJ is finally going to be getting out of hospital! So you know what to do people. Be sending lots of those vibes to help her make the final step. This is for you, beautiful..
Anyway I'm very sleepy at the moment so if there are mistakes in this, you will just have to find them charming…
22. A Fragile Paradise
Katie
Do you lie to someone because you love them or in spite of it? I love her, I love her, it's like shouting from the rooftops kind of love. Jesus, I am bathing in emotion like it's milk and honey. I have found Nirvana, the Holy Fucking Grail, and it's so easy to get lost in Paradise. I am a woman who loves luxury and I could wallow in the opulence of Effy for the rest of my days. But for one small point of order… I was still lying to her every day.
Well perhaps not down right lying, but what was it that politician once said? Oh yeah, I was being economical with the truth. We had been back a month and it was the height of summer. Effy and I were locked in some kind of heady honeymoon. I had never seen her smile so much, and I loved that I was the cause of that. I knew that to reveal myself would hurt her, and the thought of hurting her was simply impossible to consider. I simply couldn't do that to the woman I love.
And so I pushed away the guilt and continued to lavish attention on her, and we filled the humid nights with sex and laughter. I knew this shit would come back to bite me one day, but my foolish heart kept pushing back the deadline. I'll tell her once she settles into her new room. I'll tell her once Freddie calms down a bit. I'll tell her once she's started on her therapy. But all of these occasions came and went and still my traitorous mouth remained resolutely shut.
We had painted Effy's room together and gradually made it into a space that was exclusively hers. And even though it was clear that he still didn't like me, Freddie had stopped kicking up such a fuss, even allowing me to stay over at the barn without whining. Effy had started seeing a counsellor, and even though it was going slowly, she was helping her to develop strategies to deal with her illness, which didn't include getting shitfaced. On the surface everything seemed happy and shiny and beautiful.
But it was all so fragile. This delicate web of happiness I had been weaving could be swept aside at any moment, and the consequences of that reached far beyond just mine and Effy's relationship. Le Coeur Explosif's reputation had been growing, and more and more bookings had been coming in, including a massive November the Fifth show in a park in Brighton. I didn't want to be responsible for blowing the unit apart. Effy, Cook, Thomas, I loved them all and even I could recognise Freddie's importance to the group. So was I lying to deceive them, or to protect them? Sometimes I didn't even know myself any more. Sometimes I felt I liked myself a lot better as Katie Ford than I ever had as Katie Fitch.
But the problem with a lie is that it has a tendency to grow. Unless you pull it out cleanly by the roots, it will keep spreading underground until your whole damn life becomes infested. Not only did I keep fobbing my parents off about my so-called mission to discover the secrets of Le Coeur, I never told them where I kept disappearing to at night. Nor who was putting such a smile upon my face.
Effy might well be my lover, and the keeper of my heart, but Rob and Jenna were the ones who had raised me and looked after me all these years. But in spite of that, I committed the ultimate betrayal when my old boss Damian from my days on the photoshoots rang me out of the blue.
"Katie Fucking Fitch, how the hell are you?" he greeted me enthusiastically.
"Yeah, I'm good thanks," I replied, still a little stunned at hearing from him at all.
"Great, great," he said with the somewhat insincere excitement I had forgotten used to be part of my everyday world.
"So Damian, what can I do for you?" I asked, knowing that there was no way on earth this could be a purely social call.
"Yeah well right," he said. "So we're doing the launch for Stella's new autumn collection at some big country house in Buckinghamshire. I know, exciting right?"
"Wow, that's amazing," I gushed, feeding him what he wanted to hear.
"Yeah, so there's these massive grounds and a gorgeous lake and stuff, and Stella wanted some cool fireworks to finish off with. And I thought, why not ask my old friend Katie. I know you've got connections in the business, and we only want the best for Stella, right?"
I held my breath for a second whilst the thoughts flashed across my mind, and my loyalties were yanked at from both sides. I knew I should offer it to Dad, but a gig like that could really put Le Coeur on the map.
"Katie?" queried Damian when I didn't reply.
"Yeah, yeah, I was just thinking," I told him. "There's this new outfit on the scene, but trust me when I tell you that they are seriously fucking good."
"Sounds interesting," said Damian.
"They're called Le Coeur Explosif. They're young, they're edgy. I think they'd be perfect for you. Remember Allesandro's show in Paris?"
"How could I ever forget?" laughed Damian nervously.
"Well Effy, their designer was the pyrotechnician on that show. She trained with Thierry," I said, throwing in the line that was guaranteed to send a non-pyro person's mind spinning.
"Great, well do you have their number?" he asked.
"There's one condition," I said. "I don't want her to know that it was me that recommended her."
"Why not?" asked Damian. I could almost hear him frowning down the phone.
"Because," I said cautiously. "She's my girlfriend, but she's very independent and I don't want her to think she's just getting work because of my contacts."
"Oh," said Damian, sounding stunned by this information.
"What?" I challenged him. "Is there some kind of problem with that?"
"No, I…um," he stammered. "It's just…."
Suddenly the fucking penny dropped.
"Jesus Christ," I spat. "Is this another one of Anna's set-ups? I know the two of you are thick as thieves. Do you actually even want any sodding pyro?"
"No, yeah we do," spluttered Damian.
"But it was Anna's idea to phone me, right?"
"She might have suggested you, yeah," he admitted.
"Well I won't be going," I asserted. "I'm with someone else now. She needs to move on."
"Yeah well, I'm not going to be the one to tell her that," he said.
"Fair enough," I laughed. Anna was a force of nature, and not to be messed with.
"So your girl, Effy is it?" he asked. "Is she what we're looking for?"
"Seriously?" I said. "She's the best. Check out their website, see for yourself. But remember, not a word about me to either of them."
"How do you do it?" he laughed. "I wish I had your way with the ladies, Katie."
"Yeah well, do this for me and maybe I'll give you a few tips," I said.
Of course, all the gang were thrilled when the enquiry came through, and Damian was true to his word and kept me out of it. But nothing ever stays fucking simple does it? My sister was on one of her rare visits back home to Bristol, and she had invited me to lunch, no doubt so she could spend the afternoon holding forth about how fucking awesome certain blonde supermodels were. But what the hell, I hadn't seen her in ages and I missed the horny little lezza. We met up in our favourite café in Montpelier, a place we'd been going to since our teens. It was a lovely little place and the food was out of this world. As soon as I walked in the door and smelt the gorgeous aromas permeating the air, I felt a twinge of regret that I had never brought Effy here.
But it was too risky. I had too much history with the place. The owners knew me by name, and those of our teenage friends who hadn't made it out of Bristol all still came down here. I guess I was lucky that a lot of the people from my past had gone off to University and never really come home again. I guess I could also be thankful that most of mine and Effy's social life since we got together had consisted of staying at home and shagging each other's brains out. Not just for the obvious reason that she was spectacular in bed, but Bristol was a small city whose social circles were tight and well connected. When we did go out, I spent half my time looking over my shoulder to make sure I wasn't about to be ambushed by some well-meaning friend. I felt like I was walking on a tightrope, but that at any moment someone could undo the fixings and I would plummet to my doom.
I sat down and ordered a vanilla latte whilst I waited for Emily. She was bound to be late. It was one of the things that always irritated me about her. I would always call her out on it, but she would claim that her artistic mind had more important things to think about than the minutiae of human interaction with a cosmological phenomenon, or some such bullshit. I guess that's why she ended up creating shit, and I just ended up organising it.
It was a good thing I'd grabbed a banana on the way out, cause the bitch would have had me starve to death by the time she bothered showing up. In spite of that, I couldn't help but break into a massive grin when I saw her little face appearing through the door. My face fell a little when I realised she had the aforementioned blonde supermodel in tow. I had been looking forward to a little quality sister time.
"Are you two joined at the hip, or what?" I said scathingly.
"I think you'll find we're joined a lot more closely than that," smirked Emily smuttily.
I rolled my eyes at her.
"I told you I should have left you to it," muttered Naomi grumpily.
"Nonsense," said Emily breezily. "You're part of the family now."
"No, you're fine," I assured her.
Despite myself I had entertained a growing affection for the blonde, not least because her love for my little sis seemed lasting and genuine.
"Let's grab some grub then," said Emily enthusiastically. "I'm starving."
No surprises there then. I watched Naomi gazing at her adoringly as she nibbled at a salad whilst Emily demolished a mountain of healthy fare.
"You're so whipped," I teased her when Emily had nipped off to the loo.
"I can't help it," she admitted. "I love the way she eats. I love her whole relationship with food. You have no idea how refreshing it is when you spend most of your time around models."
"Tell me about it," I smiled. "I spent years with them drooling enviously every time I put away a bacon sarnie."
She smiled at me with genuine warmth.
"It must be hell to have to be professionally thin," I said.
"It's no picnic," she replied. "And no dinner, and no lunch!"
"I don't think I could do it," I said.
"But you're beautiful the way you are," she answered. "You have a real woman's body. Like Emily….."
The thought of Emily's body sent her away to the happy place and I sniggered at her mercilessly.
"What's going on?" asked Emily, returning to the table.
"She's so in love with you," I grinned.
"I know," said Emily warmly, kissing her girlfriend on the top of her head. "It's a beautiful thing."
"Do you ever fight?" I asked them.
They looked at each other before shrugging.
"Not really," said Emily.
"We don't really have anything to fight about," added Naomi.
"I guess the fact that we both have a lot on means that we're grateful for the time we do have together," said Ems.
"Plus I trust her," said Naomi. "She tells me everything that's going on in that gorgeous head of hers."
"Yeah, all that nonsense" giggled Emily. "I don't know how you put up with me."
"All that genius, you mean," insisted Naomi, looking like she was about to descend into a full-on gush fest.
"Oh please," I said sarcastically. "I've just eaten a really nice lunch. I don't really want to be puking it all up again cause of you two…"
The pair of them laughed, but still managed to look disgustingly adorable. They laughed because my faux bitterness was a classic response, part of a well-oiled Katie Fitch persona. But really I was jealous of them. I envied the simplicity of them. They met, they kissed, they shagged, they fell in love. Their coming together was painless, and they had no dark secrets to haunt them. They didn't have to hide from their family and their friends, and they never had to struggle to remember who the fuck they were supposed to be at any given moment of the day.
I dug myself in deeper when I encouraged them to tell me what they'd been up to in order to distract myself from my dilemmas. I then had to listen to them going on about their perfect fucking life as well as their perfect fucking love. Emily was in talks about directing her first feature, and Naomi had just graced the cover of American Vogue. They'd just had the kitchen re-done in the Camden flat, and they were planning some swanky holiday in the Caribbean together. In the end I had to beg them to stop before I acted on the urge to smash my head repeatedly on the table.
"So how about you, Katie?" asked Emily. "What's going on with you?"
"Same shit, different day," I retorted, using the cliché to disguise the festering drama. It was then that I spotted the mischievous sparkle in Naomi Diamond's eye.
"Well that sounds like you could do with something to cheer you up," she said.
"Sounds like you have something in mind, Campbell," I said.
She both loved it and hated it when I used her original name.
"How about a fantastically opulent but freakishly badass party?" she grinned.
"Go on…" I encouraged.
"Well, I'm working on the launch of Stella's new autumn collection, and it's in this fuck off big mansion and I know they've got all kinds of crazy shit going on," she beamed enthusiastically.
"Oh that," I said dismissively. "Damian's already asked me to that."
"Oh," said Naomi, slightly deflated. "And?"
"I'm not going," I said firmly.
"Why not?" asked Emily. "There'll be loads of people you know there."
"Exactly," I told her. "Effy's doing the fireworks there, and she still thinks I'm called Katie Fucking Ford and I'm writing a bloody thesis."
"You still haven't told her?" said Emily incredulously.
"It's complicated," I replied grumpily.
"How come Effy's doing such a high profile party?" asked Emily suspiciously.
"Because I got her the gig, ok," I snapped. "But it's not like she doesn't deserve it. She's fucking talented. Those people aren't going to know what's hit them."
"Well it's about time she found out your secret identity," said Naomi, seizing an opportunity. "You can tell her at the party, and she can't really be cross with you cause you got her such an awesome gig. It's perfect."
But I wasn't really focussed on her words. Instead I was fatally hypnotised by the creeping sense of realisation that had worked its way across my sister's face towards the end of my little outburst.
"Oh my God, you're shagging her," said Emily bluntly.
Little sod always was too clever for her own good.
"What?" said Naomi, cutting herself off in mid-enthuse.
"Katie's fucking the pyrochick, and she still hasn't told her she works for a rival company," Emily explained helpfully.
Naomi was looking at me like I'd just kicked her favourite kitten.
"You're fucking her…?" she said despondently.
"Yeah," I confirmed. "Hence the not going to a party where every fucker there will have heard of the notorious Katie Fitch."
"Oh," said Naomi, as if I had informed her of some great tragedy.
"What the fuck is wrong with you?" I asked her. "Why are you so desperate for me to go to a fucking party?"
No wonder she and Ems have to have an honest relationship, cause her efforts to hide her guilt were laughable.
"Oh for fuck's sake, not you as well," I gasped in exasperation.
"The fuck?" said Emily. "Not her as well what?"
"Anna asked her to get me to the party," I said. "And she did exactly the same thing with Damian."
"Is that true?" said Emily, turning towards her girlfriend.
"What the fuck?" said Naomi. "I like her, OK? She's a good mate. She's intelligent, charming and fun to work with, and this thing she has for Katie is real."
"What the fuck, Naomi?" scolded Emily.
"It's OK," I sighed. "Anna is charming, and she's a genius at getting people to do what she wants."
"Everyone except you, eh?" smiled Ems.
"I think that's part of my charm," I shrugged. "But things are different now. I'm in love with somebody else."
"Wait a minute," said Emily. "You're in love with her? Then what the fuck are you playing at, Katie?"
"It's not that simple," I protested. "You don't know her."
"And I never will if you keep pretending I don't exist. It's time to 'fess up, bitch."
"I didn't come here for a lecture," I said, standing up and throwing my share of the bill down on the table. "Naomi, kindly tell Anna that I have a previous engagement, and for fuck's sake keep her away from Effy, otherwise there'll be consequences. And if you don't believe me, ask Emily how she got that scar above her eye."
I knew my little tantrum wouldn't really faze Ems. She's been witness to some classic Katie Fitch storming out scenes over the years. Naomi looked a little more traumatised, but if she was in this family for the long haul, she was bound to acclimatise. I could already picture Emily comforting her in that special way of hers that would inevitably lead to nakedness and fannies. So I felt sure that the blonde would be more than fine in the not too distant future. I was the one who really needed comforting. But the one person I really wanted to run to was also the source of all my troubles. Mais c'etait plus grand que moi. The desire to be with her outweighed everything else, and it was almost on automatic that I drove up to the barn and found myself knocking on her door again. As soon as her arms slid around me and her lips began to dance across my neck, the sweet narcotic of selective memory began pumping through my veins. I forgot I was a lying bitchcunt whore, and simply became just a girl who loved another girl beyond all imagining.
It must have been about five am on the night of the party, when I was woken up by a text alert on my phone. It was Effy, "Be in my bed when I get home."
My arms and legs jerked to attention as a bolt of electricity shot through each one of them at the thought. I had a vision of Effy, still in her firing suit, smelling of cordite and with attractive designer smudges on her face bursting through the door to find me naked in her bed, and taking me in a furious frenzy of lust without even taking her helmet off. I stuck my hand between my legs to feel the instantaneous pool of moisture that the vision had engendered. Despite the earliness of the hour, I found myself getting up and getting dressed. If this was the kind of reaction Imaginary Effy had provoked, there was no way I was going to miss the real thing. I had no idea what time they were going to make it back to the barn but I sure as hell wasn't going to take any chances.
I let myself into the barn with the key they kept hidden in the yard, and as instructed I took myself into her bed. I couldn't sleep though. I was far too excited by the prospect of her return. Effy was always super horny after she'd been firing, and the benefits that Freddie used to reap were now mine, and mine alone. At least I hoped they were. I hoped to God that Naomi had done what she was told and kept Anna away from her. Quite apart from the fact that she could reveal my true identity, Effy had confessed how she had always fancied the Russian, and if my deception had been exposed, Anna would make one hell of a revenge fuck.
It was about 8am when I finally heard the truck rolling into the yard. I didn't go down to greet them. I was too busy positioning myself elegantly on the bed in my finest set of silky red bra and knickers, trying to make myself look like the most desirable woman in the world. I wanted to give her what she wanted, a hot and sexually willing bitch in her bed. My heart started thumping when I heard her footsteps coming up the stairs. It was ridiculous the intensity of the physical reactions she could provoke in me, even without being in the room. To my initial disappointment she wasn't in her pyroclothes, but in a black and pink party dress. She still looked hot as fuck though, and her eyes filled out to black when she caught sight on me on the bed. She dropped her bag and jacket where she stood and practically leapt onto the bed, and taking me in a strong and passionate kiss.
We rolled around on the bed, hands flying everywhere, trading deep bruising kisses and trying to pin each other down. I managed to drag her out of her dress to discover Effy in posh underwear too, albeit a little bit less dramatically expensive than mine.
"These better be for my benefit," I growled into her neck, roughly palming her tit through the black lace.
"Oh God, Katie," she moaned back at me. "Who else would they be for?"
"Oh perhaps that entire mansion full of models you've just been with, my darling…" I said, pining her arms above her head.
It had the desired effect as I felt her hips pushing up eagerly towards me.
"What? Those scrawny little fuckers?" she said breathily. "Why would I want them when I have you?"
"Right answer," I said, pushing my hips aggressively down against her clit.
"Oh Jesus, Katie, please fuck me," she demanded. "My cunt's on fucking fire."
Desire is a powerful fucking force, and the need to be inside her exploded through every cell in my body. My hand was already between her legs before she had finished her second sentence. I couldn't wait. I pushed her knickers to one side and thrust two fingers roughly inside her.
"Oh fuck yes, babes," she cried. "Like that. I need you."
She spread her legs beneath me and I fucked her harder, drowning in the moans and cries that were my own very favourite special music. Effy was wild, hungry, pushing herself up against my thrusts and throwing her upper body around in complete abandon. She was driving me fucking crazy. Her cunt was soaking, and she felt so fucking beautiful. She kept yelling at me to take her, and my arm started working on automatic, thrusting harder and faster into her deep, hot gorgeous pussy. I love her more than ever when she's like this, feral, unrestrained and demanding. I love how powerful she is. I hope I never forget how I feel in moments like these, that I never want to cage her, to try to hold her back from being the Effy she truly is. That we must never argue over who turn it is to wash up or some such shit, cause when we're making love we are like goddesses – hot bitches with superpowers who can blow the world apart.
The force of it was almost brutal now, but neither of us would have stopped even if the bloody building fell down. Effy was black-eyed and breathless, and I was a woman possessed. I needed to make her come. My life depended on it. and so I summoned up reserves of strength and slammed into her even harder.
"Putain, je vais jouir…" she shouted.
I knew what that meant now.
Her body spasmed once last time and I could feel her tighten around me as she screamed her way through an orgasm that probably should have broken the bed. I know it nearly broke me as I struggled to stay with the violence of her motions. I clung onto her as she gripped me from within, and we tumbled down from the centre of the tempest.
"I love you, I love you, I love you," I chanted on repeat as the aftershocks ripped through her.
It was all I had. It was all I knew. I was in love with Effy Stonem, and probably would be till the day I died.
"Fucking hell," said Effy finally, when she calmed down enough and I was lying on her chest. "That was hot."
"Your were like a fucking volcano," I laughed, pushing aside the fabric of her bra so I could lay my hand on her tit. "Good gig then?"
"It wasn't bad," she smiled smugly, and I knew she had fucking owned it.
"I take it you went to the party afterwards," I said.
"Yeah, it was quite cool," she said dismissively.
I smirked, knowing that this was Effy speak for 'fucking awesome'.
"Meet anyone famous?" I asked.
She gave me her best Gallic shrug.
"You know I don't really care about that stuff," she said. "I wouldn't know who most of them were… Freddie was all about the schmoozing. I just got wasted and danced. Thomas was more about the music than the models and ended up chatting to the Djs. And Cook was just trying to shag as many girls as he could manage."
"How did he do?" I grinned.
"At least two. Maybe three," replied Effy.
"That's our boy," I giggled. "Though to be fair, it probably takes about three normal women to measure up to one of us."
"I'd say at least twenty to measure up to you, mon Coeur," she smiled, her thumb drifting across my cheek. "Thank you."
"You don't have to thank me," I smirked. "It's a pleasure, not a chore."
Effy didn't reply, and when I raised my head to gauge her reaction I could tell that she wasn't just thanking me for the sex. She stared at me with her piercing blue eyes, and I knew that she knew it was me who got her the gig.
"You're not mad?" I asked her.
"I'm not mad," she said. "I love you."
I let her kiss me and roll me onto my back. I let her keep on kissing me until I felt my physical brain take over. She was wonderful, and this moment was perfect. There's not a force on this earth that could make me want to ruin this moment. Tomorrow, I promised myself as I abandoned myself to her. I'll come clean with her tomorrow….
.
.
.
Your French for today
Mais c'etait plus grand que moi. – But it was bigger than me
"Putain, je vais jouir…" – Fuck, I'm going to come