Chapter 6

“What am I doing wrong?” Charlie murmured half to herself.

She glanced up as she heard Casey’s phone ringing in the living room. Casey had decided to lie down on the couch for an hour or so after lunch, leaving Charlie with little else to do but go to work on her novel. A moment later she swivelled in her seat as she heard the distinctive pitter patter of rain, the storm clouds had been building for the last hour or so, despite the sunny skies that same morning. She rose and crossed to the window as the rain became heavier, the clouds were tinged with black in the distance and were moving towards her.

“Thank fuck I’m not going out in that,” she muttered.

The rain suddenly became even heavier and then she saw the first hailstones striking Casey’s car in the driveway. She frowned as she tried to recall if she’d closed her window.

“Wow,” Casey spoke from the doorway and Charlie turned around suddenly. She had the phone in her hand, “that was Peter on the phone wanting to know if I was going to church tonight.”

“Better you than me,” she ran a hand through her hair, “I wouldn’t be going out in that,” she eyed her computer, “I’ve been trying to write chapter five.”

“Writer’s block?” Casey raised an eyebrow.

“Something like that,” she returned to the chair.

“What’re you writing?”

“My first novel,” she stared at the screen, “some sword and sorcery thing, but I keep thinking of Game of Thrones and then worry that I might be plagiarising without realising it.”

“Common problem,” she drew nearer to the computer, “why don’t you email what you’ve written so far? I’ve read the books. If you’ve accidentally written something verbatim then a second pair of eyes can’t hurt.”

“Works for me,” she opened a browser, “what’s your email address?”

Casey told her the email address and Charlie sent her a quick email with an attached PDF copy of the first few chapters and then she turned around as Casey walked to the window. She stared out at the hail and then tapped her phone, a moment later she raised it to her ear.

“Hiya, me again. Listen, I’m gonna bail on you. It’s hailing out here… yeah, yeah, I know but it’s the other cars I’m more worried about… why don’t you just go ahead without me?”

She hung up a few moments later and turned around.

“I think I’ve upset Peter.”

“Is that a bad thing?”

“For him maybe but not for me. I think Peter is suffering from WTS.”

“Wishful thinking syndrome,” she smiled crookedly and stepped over to the wardrobe, “I made the classic error of hugging him one night when he was going through a hard time,” she opened the door, “and now he thinks if we spend enough time together that eventually I’ll see that God really wants us to become boyfriend and girlfriend,” she pulled out Charlie’s tie rack.

“Nice selection of ties. Even my dad would turn green with envy,” she pulled a red one free and held it up in front of herself as she turned around.

“Colourful but maybe it’s too Trumpian.”

“You can’t let Trump ruin red ties. My mum said that Margaret Thatcher ruined the pussybow blouse for women for a whole generation, it’s a fucking tie it doesn’t say Maga on it.”

“Well, there is that,” she hung the rack up again and looped the tie around her neck.

“That’s another reason I’m wary of Peter,” she proceeded to fasten the tie.

“He’s not a Trump supporter is he?”

“Not in so many words but he follows the Twitter accounts of those idiotic televangelists from the good old USA, those idiots give all of us a bad name,” she smiled and then switched to an American accent.

“And I heard the voice of the Lord like thunder saying, give me your money… so I can buy a new Lear jet, can you hear him folks. He’s crying great big tears, my people have no faith,” she finished fastening the tie and then buttoned her top button.

“That’s actually quite good.”

“I was part of an acting group in uni,” she fluffed out her hair, “I actually liked acting although I couldn’t do it for a job, it’s exhausting to prepare for a role.”

“What parts did you play?”

“Oh various roles. We used to do different scenes from famous plays and movies,” she smiled and turned to look at her, “my most memorable role was a reworking of the last scene from Casablanca with two women in it instead of a man and a woman. It was a comedic twist because we had one female actor dressed like Humphrey Bogart standing in the wings smoking a cigarette. You couldn’t tell it was a female because she was behind a curtain but they had a light on it to show her reflection and the audience burst out laughing when she burst onto the stage after our kiss calling out cut and acting like a director in a movie.”

“And how was your kiss?”

“It was better than I thought,” she moved to the end of the bed, “I only took it because I wanted to try something entirely new and I liked the reworked scene. It’s acting though, a stage kiss is entirely different to a real kiss. We had a lot of laughs trying to get through just a straight stage kiss let alone one between two women.”

“I can never tell the difference,” Charlie walked to the bed, “it always looks real to me.”

“It’s all down to technique and lighting, but in the movies they can edit and use multiple camera angles to make it look realistic.”

Charlie didn’t reply as she sat down with her back to the bedhead. Casey eyed her for a couple of seconds and then slid further onto the bed and laid down across it.

“It was certainly popular with the guys though. We both had guys asking us to go for threesomes with them, which is just creepy.”

“I’m in agreement there,” she replied.

“So tell me,” Casey glanced up at her, “why don’t you have a girlfriend? You haven’t even talked about a woman to me.”

Charlie frowned as she contemplated her next words.

“I guess I had to take a step back and rethink a few things, I made a pig’s ear out of the last attempt and nearly drank over it so I had to change my attitude and focus on other things.”

“The woman who made me drink,” she tapped herself, “Linda always says if I want to love another then I have to learn to love myself.”

“That could take a lifetime,” Casey grinned, “by then you’d be a crusty old woman.”

“I don’t think she means it for that long but that’s the part that bothers me. How long is long enough or is it something I have to work out in my own time?”

“I guess only you can decide that,” she rolled onto her back and stared at the ceiling.

Her phone beeped a moment later and she sighed as she read the text.

“Fuck it,” she tapped out a message, “what is it with needy guys?”

She sent the text and then swiped the screen.

“Muted,” she put the phone down, “I swear to God I wish I’d never hugged him.”

“Needy guys are like needy girls,” Charlie replied.

“I’m going to quit the mission,” she suddenly announced.

“Because it’s shallow. They have this mantra. You get the person to admit they need Jesus in their lives and then sign them up for an online bible study course. The kids who come into this drop in centre are too busy shoving smack or speed up their arms, they live in squats or couch surf, they have no concept of paying bills at all let alone paying on time. They need to come off the shit, clean up and show some responsibility but all they care about is money in the bank.”

“So, what happens to the drop in centre if you pull out?”

“It’d still go on even if the mission pulls out, it’s a church run thing and going by what the vicar was saying the other day I reckon they’ll just take over and ask them to leave.”

“I kind of like going there even though I’m not a Christian.”

“So go,” she rolled onto her side and propped her head on her palm, “I’m not saying I’d just stop going, I just don’t want to be part of this mission. It all looked glamorous when I was up in Sydney but now that I’m away from my old environment it just feels as if I’m on a treadmill so maybe I should just stop pedalling.”

Casey traced her way along a pattern in the duvet cover.

“I’ve been fighting something for years but just lately I’ve been thinking that fighting these urges have become too hard and it’s not like I’m in danger of risking my life. It’s just sex at the end of the day, although considering what the vicar said today it’s almost like a breath of fresh air. The church usually tries to tell you that sex is only something that can be done if you’re married and not filled with lust. The problem with that stand though is the fact that sexual desire is a part of the human condition. If my dad and mum hadn’t been filled with lust I wouldn’t be here today,” she sat up and stared at the door.

“I need a piss,” she rose and exited the room leaving Charlie staring after her.

Lust. It was what had driven her before and yet since her failure with Zoe, she’d kept on the straight and narrow for the most part. She did check out other women all the time and found she was also fighting desires of her own.

The flushing of the toilet roused Charlie from her self-imposed reverie and she shifted across the bed a little and laid down as Casey came out of the toilet. The other woman leaned against the door jamb and folded her arms as she looked at her.

“What’re your plans for tonight.”

“I’ve got to think about dinner,” she smoothed out her skirt, “you fancy staying?”

“Maybe,” she stared at the window, “my God, it’s like the apocalypse out there.”

“Do you want to use the garage?”

“No, it’s fine,” she glanced at the floor, “that’s the advantage of driving an old car, it’s actually made of metal instead of plastic. Irene’s car will be in the garage.”

“My housemate,” she pushed away from the door jamb and moved to the bed, “she’s hardly ever there to be honest, she spends most of her time at her boyfriend’s joint,” she sat down.

“More like pragmatic,” she replied, “Irene knows that her boyfriend Ian has wandering eyes and having him staying over while I’m there is just too much competition. She never says it like that of course but she doesn’t have to, I’m a woman and I know how women think. I’d probably do the same thing in her shoes.”

“You don’t strike me as the kind of woman who’d seduce her housemate’s boyfriend,” Charlie nudged her leg lightly.

“I’m not that kind of girl,” she glanced down momentarily, “and it has nothing to do with my faith and more a case of basic etiquette and trust.”

Charlie didn’t reply as Casey shifted around to face her. Both women stared at each other for the better part of a minute and then Casey reached out to touch her hair. She had a crooked smile on her face as she brushed a lock of hair aside, Charlie felt a slight weakness in her belly as soft fingers slid across her skin. She felt paralysed as if an invisible hand was pushing her down against the bed and then Casey leaned right over and placing her right hand flat on the bed, brushed her lips lightly across Charlie’s.

It was a tentative kiss, no more than a light peck but it changed the situation dramatically as she pulled back slightly, she had an odd expression on her face, almost as if she’d crossed one of her own invisible red lines. Charlie still hadn’t moved an inch and so Casey dipped her head once again and held her lips firmly against Charlie’s. The other woman opened her mouth a little hesitantly and Casey pushed harder and then she too opened her mouth. The kiss lasted a few more seconds before she broke free and raised her head. She looked anxious and yet Charlie felt that whilst she might have crossed one of her lines she wasn’t about to step back over the line.

“That was different,” she murmured half to herself.

“It wasn’t a stage kiss?” Charlie stared at her.

“Definitely not,” she smiled crookedly.

“A stage kiss,” she looked down at her, “is literally a staged kiss. You agree on how long it goes on for, do you open your mouths or keep them closed? It’s all about basic communication and trust, but that’s the same for any scene.”

“Are you going to join an acting group down here?”

“I’ve thought about it from time to time,” she replied, “but it’s something I did for a while just to see how it felt. I enjoyed it at the time but I’m thinking about learning to draw.”