Delia could see The Gateways Club ahead, she increased her pace in excitement. It was an inconspicuous building, rather residential looking, with no hint of the frivolity inside. The only sign that the building enjoyed frequent company were the figures lingering outside, waiting for friends, enjoying a cigarette, or huddling in the cold.
"Hurry up Pats!" called Delia.
"I couldn't possibly be any faster Deils!" yelled Patsy.
Waiting for Patsy had caused Delia to once again recognise the brutality of the brisk London air. She cupped her hands together and breathed into them. It was unfortunate that mittens did not coordinate with her outfit, she thought.
Patsy, at last, caught up to her.
"Why in such a hurry? The club isn't going anywhere" said Patsy, smiling.
Delia held Patsy's hand and motioned her forward. "I know", she said, "but if getting there one minute sooner means one more minute dancing with you, I'll take it."
Patsy squeezed Delia's hand before spotting two women smoking outside the club. She scrunched her face, looking to Delia in hope.
"Just one cigarette?" Patsy asked, "I'll be quick. And you owe me for your constant teasing earlier."
Delia groaned, "I tell you what. If this is your last, I will condone it."
"Last?" Patsy paused. "Ever?"
"Yes!" exclaimed Delia, pressing a finger into Patsy's side. "You promised me you'd give it up. It's very unbecoming."
"I'll consider it."
Delia glared at her and crossed her arms.
"Annnd consider it done" said Patsy, groaning. "Now what was that other nasty habit I needed to forgo?"
She looked to Delia, "something about cute Welsh girls?"
Delia pushed Patsy's side playfully, "you wouldn't dare!"
Patsy took hold of Delia from behind and wrapped her arms around Delia's hips, sure she was amongst like minded company. "You're my only vice and one I intend to keep" she whispered into Delia's ear.
"And I intend to keep you. As long as I can. So after this, no more cigarettes. Promise?" asked Delia, snuggled in the arms of the taller woman. "Promise" said Patsy, releasing her girlfriend.
Patsy rummaged through her handbag, took out a packet of cigarettes and placed one into her mouth. She looked to Delia, noting there were still several cigarettes left. "Surely, though, you mean last packet?" she said, cigarette dangling.
Delia looked away, in feigned annoyance.
"Come on" said Patsy, taking the cigarette out of her mouth, "show me that beautiful smile."
Delia turned her back, clearly suppressing a smile. Patsy rummaged further through her bag. "Blast", she said, "I'm positive I put some matches in here."
Delia giggled and turned to Patsy, sheepishly. "You're an absolute devil!" said Patsy.
"But one you intend to keep."
Patsy looked to the two women smoking, hesitant to ask for a light. Both were the older masculine type. Patsy had seen their likes in Gateways before. Wearing dapper suits, tailored to their lanky bodies, hair slicked back in the style worn by men in the 1920s. Although Patsy was not attracted to their 'type', she had admired their boldness, their unwillingness to be anyone but themselves.
Patsy smiled as they noted her. Delia noted their comfortable shoes.
Patsy took initiative and walked toward them, Delia followed behind.
Xxx
Trixie and Barbara were in detective mode. Their coat collars stood stiffly in a lame attempt at concealing their faces. They approached the corner of the street with trepidation. Trixie peered around the corner, then turned to Barbara.
"I can see them," she said, "they've stopped in front of some building."
"Trixie, I don't feel right about this" complained Barbara.
"We are not doing anything wrong" explained Trixie.
"Spying on your friends? There's a distinct possibility that's frowned upon" said Barbara.
"We are not spying," said Trixie, harshly. "Those two are clearly hiding something. Perhaps something dangerous. I'm concerned for them, that's all."
Barbara crossed her arms.
"Trixie Franklin, it is one thing to spy on your friends, but a completely different matter to insinuate heroism on your part. This is nothing but snooping into matters that are none of our business. Just leave them be."
Trixie looked to Barbara is shock, she had never heard such a stern tone from her timid friend. She took a moment to reflect. Perhaps it was none of her business, but why the secrets?
Trixie had been a good friend to Patsy; she had even confessed to her an alcohol addiction. If Patsy was hiding something, surely she could trust her? Still, she thought, perhaps she had confided in Delia instead and that's why their bond was so close. Trixie felt a sudden pain of jealousy. Then, she thought, if Patsy had told Delia, who else has she told? Trixie contemplated, then gasped.
"You know something!" exclaimed Trixie, "tell me everything!"
Barbara put her hands up in defence.
"I know nothing, I assure you."
At any other time, on any other day, Trixie would have laughed and said 'yes, we are all aware of that, thankyou Barbara' but she was not in the mood for foolery. Instead she sighed and peered around the corner once more. Suddenly, her hand reached back, clasping Barbara's arm.
"I knew it!" she exclaimed loudly, before covering her mouth and retreating.
Barbara looked at Trixie, concerned, then gingerly peeped toward the edge of the building. Trixie peered over her shoulder. Together they saw Patsy and Delia talking in the intimate surrounds of two dapper figures. Patsy placed her hand on the taller one, laughing as she blew cigarette smoke in the air. Delia looked on, her smile was so wide Trixie was sure she had never seen her so happy.
Barbara and Trixie turned away and braced themselves against the cloak of the building.
"I'm sure it's nothing" said Barbara.
"Oh please. They're canoodling with gentlemen! Upper class gentlemen at that." Trixie paused, seething. "Dinner with Mrs Busby, what rot! Sophisticated Patsy is clearly ashamed of us. Of me!"
Trixie paused, solemnly. "I'm sophisticated," she protested, trying to reassure herself. "I dial the phone with a pencil!"
Barbara placed her hands on Trixie's shoulders. "They could be friends," she said slowly.
"Well," said Trixie, stepping back, "remind me to dress like that", she pointed in the direction of the giddy lovers, "the next time I greet Fred in the garden with a cup of tea!"
Trixie watched Delia, Patsy and their dapper companions enter the non-descript building. She followed in their direction.
"Come on," she growled, "we're going in."