Chapter 2

It came as a shock because she’d thought her mother would at least have told everyone but Vickie was down in London and hadn’t been seen for quite some time. She wrote back and told her the wedding was off and then wrote to her mother. She ended the letter with, Love, Moira and then scribbled it out and wrote Mary.

Nancy laughed when she related the incident the next day.

“So, Mary has become Moira.”

“They both start with the same letter,” she smiled and contemplated the plate of food, “still, she is on my mind. I think if I was going to have sex with a woman then Moira would be someone I’d choose.”

“It’s different in real life but I’ve tried to keep it realistic.”

That night they talked not about her chapters but about love between women. It left Mary feeling both disturbed and intrigued. The negative feeling came from the realisation that it was actually far more normal than she first thought. A moment of intimacy could be taken much further if both women were comfortable with each other, the mystery revolved around what it would be like to get naked with a woman.

Oddly enough for Mary, when she awoke the next morning, the first person she thought of was Nancy. She actually bumped into her on the way out of the building. Nancy was dressed in a tan pussybow blouse and trouser suit. They shared a cab ride to work, which was a relief to Mary after months braving the subway.

“We should do this more often,” Nancy murmured as the cab pulled up outside the McGraw building.

“Well,” she checked her watch, “normally I start half an hour later than you but if you’re up for it we can share a cab ride and share the fare. I could do with starting half an hour earlier, the office is quieter and I can get more done, and I’d finish earlier,” she looked at her.

“All right,” Mary nodded and opened her bag, “how much?”

“It’s on me this time,” she patted her hand, “see you tonight?”

“It’s a date,” she smiled.

Was it a date? It wasn’t a date but why had she thought of it like that?

The question still wasn’t resolved when she hopped into the cab after work. Nancy greeted her with a smile and they talked about their day on the way home. Once they got into the building however they went to their own apartments, but soon the two women began spending more time in each other’s apartments. That soon expanded into coffee at a nearby diner and the occasional dinner together and slowly Mary began to change, both outwardly in her dress sense and inwardly, becoming more outgoing in a subtler way.

Mary was drawing closer to the woman, both as a result of reading her romantic novel and the time they spent with each other and yet despite her growing attraction to Nancy, she still felt as if it was a step she could never take. It would take some kind of cataclysmic event she reasoned and in the first week of April such an event did take place when her mother died of a sudden heart attack.

It was the kind of tragedy that completely blind-sided her and in the day it took for her to inform her boss, pack a case and book a flight home she found Nancy was a rock she could rely upon. So much so that when she finally arrived back in Aberdeen she called Nancy to tell her she’d arrived safe and sound.

“Good,” Nancy replied, “glad to hear it. Just do what you have to do and I’ll see you when you get back in the States.”

And she was going back despite the fact her father was now a widower. Father and daughter seemed to understand that much but when her ex turned up at the funeral, uninvited, she felt the urge to run from the church. It was only the sight of the coffin and her father’s hand in hers that kept her in place until they were outside.

“So sorry,” John moved forward to kiss her.

“Thank you,” she turned away, “for turning up without letting me know.”

It was rude but she felt it was the only thing she could say and in the two days she had left, Mary spent all her time with her father, ignoring John’s phone calls until finally her father asked her why she was ignoring him.

“Because of what he did to me, I know he’s using mum’s death to get close to me. He thinks he can worm his way back into my life while I’m emotionally drunk.”

“Understandable, so, have you found love in New York?”

“Maybe,” she replied absently, “although it’s not what I expected.”

She waited for the disapproving look but instead her father merely patted her hand.

“You’ll work it out, I’m sure, pet. Your mother was so proud of you, I still am proud of you.”

Was she in love with Nancy? It was the first time she’d voiced the thought and now it was out in the open it seemed to grow arms and legs. Or was she in love with her characters? However they too were just part of Nancy, her imaginings, her very being.

Her father’s words at the airport stayed with her.

“We never know when it’s our turn to go, life is for the living not the dead. Do what makes you happy and the rest will fall into place.”

As chance would have it, one of the chapters she’d taken with her on the flight was the one with a rewritten love scene. It was a chapter Nancy had taken back off her for a rewrite and then given back to her the day she found out about her mother. The chapter drew her into a hidden world, it almost seemed as if she had become the love interest of the other woman. She was so entranced she literally read the chapter three times before attempting to make some corrections, but it was as if she was outside her body looking down at herself in the window seat.

There was no answer when she knocked on Nancy’s door a few hours later and no answer when she rang her number but when she called her place of work, she finally discovered that Nancy had gone to New Orleans for a few days. She would be back tomorrow afternoon and her colleague promised to let her know she’d called.

Mary studied the small knife in the scabbard. She’d picked it up from a souvenir shop in the high street and immediately thought of Moira and by logical extension, Nancy. She wrapped the box it came in with paper and put it in the bedside drawer.

That next morning she dressed for work but chose her outfit with care. The blouse was made of white satin with billowing sleeves and deep cuffs, two wide pleats adorned the bodice on either side of the placket and the pussybow was made of white lace. She matched it with a green tartan pencil skirt, black pumps and black belt.

There was no phone call from Nancy at work and she didn’t dare call again. Instead she busied herself with work and tried to focus but now and then she stared at the phone, daring it to ring and when it did she snatched it up, only to discover it was work related.

When work finished for the day she practically rushed out the door and into the street and nearly collided with a woman with her back to the door and then the woman turned around and she found herself staring at Nancy.

She was also wearing a pussybow blouse but her one was silver grey, tucked into a black pleated skirt. Nancy grinned and flicked at Mary’s tie.

“Hey, you. How’s it going? Love this by the way, you look very sophisticated.”

“Nancy,” she threw her arms around her, “I tried calling you at work yesterday.”

“I heard, sorry about that. I had to go down to New Orleans. A suspect jumped bail and got himself arrested down there, so I was the one who flew down to brief the D.A down there,” she released her and gave her the once over.

“Well the fresh air must have been good for you, you’re glowing.”

“That’s not why I’m glowing,” she stared into her eyes.

Nancy didn’t say anything for a few seconds and then her eyes widened as she read her body language.

“Oh,” she smiled crookedly, “you have changed,” she glanced down the road, “tonight will be different.”

Different was certainly a good word to describe the night. Instead of going straight home, Nancy had the cabbie drop them at their favourite Italian restaurant. This dinner however was different, the conversation more intimate and frank. Mary hadn’t even confessed such things to John and on the way home in the cab she let her hand rest on Nancy’s leg.

“My apartment or yours?” Nancy murmured as they wandered down the hallway some time later.

“Mine,” she squeezed her hand briefly, “I have something for you.”

“I’m intrigued,” Nancy smiled.

Mary led her into the bedroom and flicked on the bedroom lamps.

“I thought of Moira,” she handed her the package a minute or so later.

“Okay,” Nancy sat down and started unwrapping it while Mary put on a Rod Stewart tape.

“Oh my God,” Nancy opened the box, “it’s a sgian dubh.”

“You know what it is?” Mary sat down beside her.

“My grandmother had one years ago, it belonged to her husband.”

“I could just imagine Moira using it to fight Nazis in France.”

“No doubt she will,” she balanced the knife on her finger, “nice workmanship.”

Mary nodded as she dragged her fingers up and down Nancy’s back, the up and down movements turned into circular movements and she shifted her position slightly so that she was facing her. The scene she’d read yesterday on the plane was uppermost in her mind as she brought her other hand around to Nancy’s front and tugged at one of the ties.

Nancy looked down at herself as the tie slid easily through the knot taking the bow with it and she turned at the same time. Mary pulled on the other tie as she fixed her gaze on Nancy’s face, she felt both nervous and the thrill of anticipation as she pulled the knot free.

Nancy leaned across and kissed her forehead first as she fingered Mary’s ties. The first kiss was quick and teasing, the second lasted a few seconds longer, and the third brought passion with it as she opened her mouth and exerted more pressure. The ties slid down and Nancy undid the knot. Her fingers slipped up and down Mary’s pleats but she didn’t undo any buttons as she kept pressure on her mouth.