Trixie marched to the front door of The Gateways Club, ready to burst through. She felt a hard tug at her shoulder as Barbara held her back.
"Trixie," warned Barbara, hand still on shoulder, "it's not too late. You don't have to do this!"
Barbara noticed two women, each with cigarette in hand, leaning against the side of the building. Both wore their hair down, adorned in winter coats, their pretty dresses peaking through the opening. It looked as though they had coordinated their outfits. The only distinction between them was their hair; one a brunette, one platinum blonde.
The women stopped their friendly conversation and watched the drama unfolding before them. Barbara moved from the door, cowering to the side.
"We could just go to the movie," she said, her voice quieter. "It will give you time to calm yourself. And, if you like, you can raise the issue with Patsy when she comes home."
Barbara waited for a response. Trixie's steely stare lasered through her.
"Doesn't that sound like a more sensible idea?" Barbara asked, hopeful.
Barbara looked to the two women, still watching. She smiled apologetically. She didn't know why, she had nothing to apologise for.
Trixie did not share the same need to be quiet. She was so angry she did not care if the two women or anyone else knew of it. "A sensible idea!?" she yelled. It was louder than she intended but she could not contain herself.
Barbara lowered her head, aware of the eyes upon her.
"A sensible idea," Trixie continued, harsh but slowly, "is when someone you care about dearly, someone you love, tells you you she's seeing someone!"
"I'm gonna need another cigarette" said the brunette, watching, bracing the wall.
Trixie ignored the audience. "For months now Barbara, I've pretended to be asleep every time she crept in late. Dishevelled. Clothes askew. I figured she had simply worked late, had a hard shift."
Trixie paused .
"But now I know," Trixie breathed, almost crying. Barbara stepped closer in an attempt to comfort her but stopped as Trixie put her hands up and stepped away.
"Oh poor dear," said the blonde. The brunette nodded in agreement, "we've all been there."
Trixie turned and walked toward the door. The blonde woman stood straight and steadied herself as Trixie walked toward her.
Trixie placed her hand against the door, but stopped when the blonde called to her.
"You tell her exactly how you feel, love" she said, eyes sympathetic. "Yeah," said the brunette, "you deserve better."
I do deserve better, thought Trixie. After all she confided, after all she had helped Patsy through and yet she still couldn't reveal that she had a gentleman friend. Trixie had thought them best friends, but perhaps they were merely two people who shared a room. She suddenly blushed, embarrassed at her misunderstanding.
"Go on then" encouraged the brunette.
Trixie neither nodded in solidarity, nor told them to mind her own business. The latter, a good suggestion, thought Barbara. Trixie simply swished dramatically and stepped inside.
Barbara stared at the door, conflicted.
The two women dropped their cigarettes to the ground, twisted the flame against the heel of their shoes and opened the door. "Coming in?" asked the blonde, holding the door as Barbara braced herself and stepped inside.
Xxx
Trixie first noted how crowded the club was. She feared it would be impossible to confront her two former friends. They were very likely huddled in the corner, hands all over their 'gentlemen.' Trixie scoffed at the word.
Trixie walked a few steps, scanning the room for a tall red-head, paying close attention to darkened corners. It must be ladies night, she thought, noticing a number of women, sitting at tables, talking to each other.
Then, in the distance, Trixie spotted the two tall figures in tailored suits, hair slicked back. Her eyes shifted. But no sign of Patsy and Delia. Still, she thought, at least if she approached the men, the two scoundrels wouldn't be far away. Oh the look on their smug faces, thought Trixie gleefully, as she made a beeline to the men.
Xxx
Barbara could not see Trixie anywhere and that worried her. She was alone, in a bar and soon there would be a scene. Trixie was very good at making a scene, remembered Barbara. She thought back to Trixie's passive aggressive, and then, just downright aggressive treatment of her when Trixie had thought, rightly, that she and Tom were interested in each other.
"Oh boy", she sighed.
"You lost your friend?" she heard a voice say. Barbara turned to her side, and there at the bar, sat the blonde woman from outside. "Yes," she acknowledged, "I'm afraid I'm the least of her concerns."
The blonde patted the seat next to her and motioned Barbara to join.
"She did seem to be a woman on a mission", said the woman as Barbara shifted herself on the seat. Barbara looked at her closely, she was very pretty, with just the right amount of make-up. She had kind eyes too thought Barbara, suddenly ashamed of her negative thoughts earlier.
"Yes," said Barbara, at last, "I really should go and find her before..." Barbara trailed, she was really unsure of what would happen, truth be told.
"Fiery one is she?" laughed the blonde. Barbara didn't answer. Nervous now, she felt obliged to stay and make polite conversation.
"I'm Lara by the way" said the blonde, holding out her hand. "I'm Barbara", she smiled and shook the blondes hand.
Xxx
Trixie approached the men with a steely resolve; she would be bolder and tougher than they would ever be.
She noticed, however, as she stood inches from them, that they were much more slight than she expected. Muscle men were clearly not Patsy and Delia's type, she thought.
It was only once she made eye contact that Trixie realised that she didn't quite know what to say. She knew what she would say, well yell, to Patsy sure, but these men she had no words for.
"You alright, love?" said the shorter of the two, looking at Trixie concerned. His voice broke Trixie's thoughts, it was much... lighter than she expected. Still, she thought, modern times. Just as there were women of all shapes and sizes, there too were men of odd shapes and odd... voices. She looked to the other man, his brow tense in confusion, his cheek bones high and delicate.
"Ah, yes" Trixie stumbled, "I believe you are acquainted with two friends of mine." She had meant to be firm, but she suddenly felt uneasy. She searched their faces, unsure of why she found them so intriguing, so different.
Xxx
"So I take it you've lost your friend too?" asked Barbara.
"My friend?" asked Lara.
"The brunette... from outside" Barbara reminded her.
"Oh yes, we barely know each other to be honest. Just a friend of mine thought we'd get along. I can see why, we both have similar taste in clothing. Obviously."
Barbara laughed.
"And movies", Lara continued, "but we're also so different, you know?"
Barbara nodded. "Yes. Still, having similar interests is an important start. Actually Trixie and I, Trixie's my friend from earlier, we were supposed to see a film tonight, but it sold out. And then, well..."
"And then a whole other drama unfolded before your eyes."
Barbara laughed, so far the whole bar experience hadn't been so horrible, she surmised.
"What was the film you were going to see?" asked Lara.
"To Kill a Mockingbird."
Lara braced her chest in excitement, "oh I just adored the book!" she squealed.
Barbara squealed too, then she quickly covered her mouth, shocked that such a sound could come from her tiny frame.
Xxx
Trixie patiently described Patsy and Delia to the two gentleman. She could not fathom why boyfriends would require a detailed portrait of their girlfriends to jog their memory. She narrowed her eyes at them, surmising that they had too many girlfriends to keep track of. She knew their type, suave and sleazy, making up for what they lacked in masculinity by being complete and utter hounds. Trixie failed to see what such beautiful and sensible girls like Patsy and Delia could see in these boys. She made a mental note to tell them that too, whilst she berated them for lack of loyalty.
"Well come on," Trixie said, impatient, "you must know them. I saw you flirting outside."
The taller man laughed knowingly. He turned to his shorter companion, "she means the cute girls who asked for a match, love." Trixie detested his use of 'cute girls.' She was sure that's how he referred to all women, as simply nice things to look at.
Trixie paused and contemplated his other phrasing. 'Love?' she thought. But before she could make sense of it, the shorter man pointed to the dance floor. "They're over there", he said, "flirting."
Trixie turned to the back of the room. It swelled with dancing couples. Some women embraced similarly dapper but svelte looking gentleman. Their embrace was entirely inappropriate for a Rock 'N' Roll song, she thought.
Trixie then noticed that some women were dancing with each other. That's fine, thought Trixie, she and Patsy had also danced together once. Albeit not so comfortably. And those women certainly did seem very... comfortable.
Trixie averted her gaze, not wanting to stare. She walked onto the dance floor, her head spinning. She had only looked around for a second when she saw them.
"Patsy and Delia" she mouthed to herself, taking another step toward them.
They were dancing, just as she had done with Patsy, at a respectable distance, laughing and moving in time to the upbeat song. It looked purely innocent, like two friends enjoying a night of freedom.
The song ended. Laughter and conversation filled the room. Trixie was about to call out to them, but stopped when she noticed Delia step an inch closer to Patsy. Patsy reached down and grazed Delia's cheek with the back of her hand, lovingly.
And then it hit her: the abundance of women, the 'men' with high cheek bones and fine features, women dancing together. This was not ladies night... well it was ladies night but for a very specific kind of lady.
Trixie glanced over the room once more. It was clear that the other women dancing together were not merely friends. There was a deep intimacy surrounding them. She scanned further. Women leaned their buxom sweethearts against walls, couples giggled over shared drinks, women held hands above tables. She had been so caught up in her own sense of injustice that she had been oblivious to her surrounds. To the truth. Until now.
Trixie turned back to her two friends. She stood dumb struck as Patsy shared a slow, longing kiss with Delia.
Trixie gasped, loudly.
Delia broke away, her eyes searched for the source of the sound.
Delia's gasp came equally as loud.
"What's wrong, sweetheart?" asked Patsy as she turned to see Trixie, mouth open.
Patsy, like Trixie and Delia before her, gasped. Hers perhaps the loudest of all.
All three women stood with the same expression, like plastic moving clowns at a Carnie stand.
Patsy distanced herself from Delia as delicately as she could. She stuttered, unable to get her words out. She was about to speak an actual human sentence when she saw Barbara approach.
"Oh there you all are," Barbara greeted them, excitedly. It was a fake attempt to diffuse any uncomfortable stand off she had likely entered into. Her smile, however, wavered when she saw the same look of absolute shock shared amongst her friends.
"So," Barbara continued, "We've missed the film..."
Her friends continued to stare at each other, unmoving.
Barbara shifted uncomfortably. "Knew we wouldn't make it. Should have called it 'To Kill A Moping Bird.'
She paused. "And by bird, I mean Trixie."
Nothing.
Barbara laughed, forced and uncomfortable. "Am I right?" she asked, with a broken voice.
To be continued