Chapter 13

Chapter Thirteen

S eymour was polishing glasses while Kiera sipped her cortado the evening of her next date. Spring was really beginning to make itself felt. Outside Kiera’s flat, the air smelled different. The sun was warmer than it had been, it was still light and the tulips in the front gardens along Station Road gave her a sense of new life. She was heartened to see the café owner working that evening.

“Who can we expect today, then?” Seymour asked, nonchalantly.

“Well, she’s a bit younger than me, actually. Not really sure whether that would work. But we seem to have enough in common to keep text conversation interesting.”

“Oh, I see, the younger woman. Sounds intriguing.”

Kiera felt momentarily flustered. “I mean, she’s not that young, she’s thirty-two, but I’m forty-one, so it feels a bit of a gap,” she said, wringing her hands together. She’d been surprised when she’d matched with the pretty woman who ‘worked with people’ on the app. Her pictures had raised Kiera’s eyebrows in a very good way, so she’d swiped, but more in hope than expectation: she’d been surprised when she realised Clodagh had swiped right, too.

“Sounds ideal to me,” said Seymour, with a smile. “Shall we keep the affogato rule?”

Kiera nodded, grateful for the moral support. Her watch told her it was one minute past seven. Clodagh was late. She hoped she wasn’t about to be stood up. She couldn’t bear the humiliation, and not even the affogato rule would be able to save her then. She tried to avoid looking at her watch, and instead brought up a book she’d been reading on her phone. She pretended to read it for a while. She looked at her watch again. Ten past. How long was one supposed to wait before leaving? She obsessed over this until it was a quarter past.

“She’ll show,” said Seymour, quietly, as she walked past Kiera’s table in the window. Kiera pressed her lips together. Should she send a text to ask where Clodagh was? Or would it look too desperate? The rules had all changed so much.

Seymour walked back and leaned against Kiera’s table. “While you’re waiting, why don’t you tell me what you do for work?”

Kiera smiled. Seymour was trying to distract her, in the kindest way. “Oh, I’m not sure it’s as interesting as running your own café. How did that come about?”

“I supposed it came from rebellion, in a way,” said Seymour, with a rueful smile. “Mum and Dad were actors, obsessed with the theatre.”

“Hence the name?”

Seymour nodded. “They performed all the time, even when they weren’t on stage. It was so tiring. They assumed we’d follow in their footsteps, but I always wanted to go into business. They were shocked at my so-called obsession with capitalism.” She rolled her eyes. “I worked in various jobs but I always had a dream to set up my own café.”

“And here you are. Wow, that’s impressive.” Kiera wondered how old Seymour was. She seemed so self-assured in spite of her apparent youth. Seymour smiled. “So, you ran away from the circus to start a business?”

Seymour laughed loudly. “Exactly.”

Kiera wanted to know what Seymour’s parents had made of it all, but just then, a flustered shape hurled itself into the café, threw off its coat and dropped a bag by Kiera’s table. Seymour walked smoothly away to chat to another customer.

“So sorry, the bus was late and my phone was flat. Total nightmare. So pleased you’re still here. I’d have been panicking by now,” said Clodagh, as she took the seat opposite Kiera. Her hair was a mass of blond curls cut short, dishevelled as Clodagh herself. But there was something endearing about her lack of artifice.

Seymour came to the table to take their order, and soon they had their drinks and had settled into conversation.

“Did you always want to be a physio?”

“Well, not really,” said Clodagh, sipping at her caramel-infused skinny latte. “But the uni course matched my A levels and I found I really enjoyed it. I mean, I’ve always loved working with people.”

“I’m surprised we haven’t bumped into each other before now,” said Kiera. “You’re at the QE, right?”

“You work there too?” asked Clodagh. “I’d definitely have noticed you.” She smiled.

“I work in the patient experience team with Charlie Carter.”

“Oh, I think I’ve met him. He did some work with patients in one of our clinics last week. Well,” she said, stroking a finger up and down her coffee cup, “who’d have thought it. Swiping right on a colleague. It must be fate.”

“Maybe,” said Kiera, smiling. Already this felt better than the other dates she’d been on. She turned her head to where Seymour was standing behind the counter. The café owner gave her a quizzical look. Kiera gave a slight nod. Yes, this was going well.

“Aside from work then, what’s your passion?” asked Kiera, wanting to know more about this bubbly woman.

“Honestly? I’d love to travel the world and then come home and buy a lovely house and settle down.” Clodagh looked mildly embarrassed by her confession.

“Sounds pretty good to me. When are you going to do the travel bit?” asked Kiera, trying to remember the last time she’d met someone young enough to be planning exotic travel rather than mortgages and children.

“Fingers crossed, next summer,” said Clodagh. “I rent a room in a house at the moment, and save the rest of my money for that. Well, that and going out for drinks with my friends on a Friday night.”

“Sounds ideal,” said Kiera, with a smile. She was relieved by how smoothly the conversation was flowing after her first experience. They talked about travelling, the places they’d been, where they wanted to go in the future. Kiera shared her own story of the six months she’d worked in Geneva for an NGO at the United Nations.

“Wow, that’s seriously impressive,” said Clodagh, seemingly having no desire to play things cool. “You should be Prime Minister or something!” She drained her coffee.

Kiera blushed. “Ha, well I think it sounds more glamorous than it was. As I recall, it involved eating as big a breakfast as possible at the hostel I was staying in, because living there was so expensive and I couldn’t always afford lunch. I lived on muesli and yoghurt. I’ve not eaten muesli since! But it was one of those privileged experiences, I guess.”

“Did you have to speak Italian or something?”

“French. Although it’s such an international city that many people speak English as well.”

“Say something in French,”

“Non,” said Kiera, with a smirk.

“Come on!” Clodagh was grinning at Kiera.

“Est-ce vous voulez un deuxieme latte?”

“God, that’s hot. No idea what you said, mind!” Clodagh’s brazen ability to compliment her brought heat to Kiera’s cheeks.

Through her laughter, she said, “I asked if you wanted another latte, and almost certainly did it with a terrible accent and several mistakes.”

“Sounded good to me. Sod the latte – there’s a bar over the road. Do you want a glass of wine?” Kiera’s eyes widened. This was not what she’d expected, but it felt like fun.

“Sure,” she said. As she stood to put on her coat, she glanced over at Seymour, who gave her a knowing wink. She blushed again. She’d not realised she could be so easily flustered. Or maybe it was Clodagh’s confidence that did it.

“Red or white?” asked Kiera when they reached the bar.

“White,” said Clodagh.

“You sit here, I’ll get the drinks.” Kiera needed a moment to gather her thoughts. She returned from the bar with a bottle and two glasses. “Don’t worry, you don’t need to drink more than a glass. It was cheaper to buy the bottle rather than two glasses of wine.”

“Babe, you get better and better,” said Clodagh. “I love it. ”

“Babe?”

“Is that not ok?” said Clodagh, clinking her glass with Kiera’s.

“No one’s ever called me that before, I’m just not used to it. Cheers.”

“Cheers, babe,” said Clodagh, deliberately making eye contact. Kiera smiled. She was enjoying herself.

The evening sped by and they talked about everything and nothing, and Kiera was reminded of nights out when she was younger – before she was married, before Chrissie. She couldn’t remember the last time she’d laughed so much on a date.

“Do you live near here?” asked Clodagh.

“Yeah, a few minutes’ walk away.”

“Well, that’s convenient.” Clodagh drained her glass and shared out the dregs of the bottle between them.

“More wine?” asked Kiera.

“You need to read the room a bit better,” said Clodagh, with a laugh. Her eyes sparkled.

“Sorry, have I done something wrong? Are you feeling pressured?”

Clodagh laughed again. “Babe, I told you how convenient your place was. That’s the bit where you invite me for coffee.”

“Ah,” said Kiera, aware of the dark red in her cheeks but completely unable to hide it. “Well yes, obviously, if you’d like a coffee, you could always come to my flat.”

“Done,” said Clodagh, finishing the last of the wine. Kiera silently hoped she remembered how to do this – whatever ‘this’ ended up being.

They put their coats on, and for the first time since they’d met, silence fell as they walked towards Kiera’s place. The walk took them across and along Kings Heath High Street. The pubs and restaurants bustled, but the street was quiet. It was only a few minutes before they reached the Station Road turning, and soon they were walking past the large Edwardian terraces that made up the street. They were a mix of family homes, houses divided into flats, and those full of bedsits.

Kiera unlocked the large wooden front door, the paint from which was beginning to peel. She passed the downstairs residence and went upstairs to her own, where she opened a plain wooden door into the hallway of her flat.

Kiera was naturally tidy – even more so since she’d been living alone again. Chrissie embraced creativity and chaos, and while that had been attractive in the early days, full of excitement and spontaneity, after a while the chaos began to lose its shine. Kiera remembered longing for an empty surface – space for a cup of tea and a book. Heavens, just space for her to walk across the living room unencumbered.

“Wow,” said Clodagh, as they walked into the kitchen. “You’re like a proper grown-up.” She looked around in faux wonder.

Kiera laughed. “What do you mean? Are you not a grown-up?”

“Definitely not, which is why I don’t have an actual proper coffee machine, and a clean and tidy kitchen.”

“Ah,” said Kiera, “that is my pride and joy.” She gazed fondly at her powder blue espresso machine. It had been a housewarming gift from Lou. Far too expensive, of course, but far too nice to say no to. “What can I get you? A cappuccino? A latte? Or are you a purist – an espresso?” Kiera started getting the coffee paraphernalia out of the cupboard above the machine. She felt a presence close behind her, and a hand on her waist.

“You know, if you make me coffee now, I’ll never sleep,” said Clodagh in a low voice, right by Kiera’s ear. Kiera’s legs momentarily wobbled, and she told herself to get a grip. For a moment she was frozen. She knew Clodagh wasn’t really talking about coffee at all. But she wasn’t sure what she should do next. She closed her eyes and slowly turned herself around, so that she had her back to the work surface and Clodagh was facing her, and soon, pressed against her.

“So, no coffee, then?” asked Kiera, with a smile.

“Not now, no,” said Clodagh, and she leaned forward and kissed Kiera gently on the lips.

Kiera had thought about this moment many times over the last few months. What would it be like kissing someone else after Chrissie, after everything? Would it feel strange? Would it feel wrong? She felt a sense of unreality, but before she could think any further, Clodagh had reached her arms around Kiera’s body and kissed her again, this time less gently. There was a push to it, a passion. And it was this that shocked Kiera. She’d been kissed many times in the last decade, but she couldn’t remember the last time someone had kissed her in a way that made her feel like she was wanted. She stopped for a second.

“You ok?” asked Clodagh, pulling away slightly.

“Sorry,” said Kiera. “I’m out of practice.”

“You don’t feel out of practice to me,” said Clodagh, but she paused, searching Kiera’s eyes for permission. And it was at that moment that Kiera switched off her brain and gave in to the moment, kissing Clodagh back. For once, she didn’t know where this was going or how it would feel, but she wanted to experience it there and then.

Kiera raised her hand to feel Clodagh’s hair, stroking the fine strands between her fingers. As she did so, her elbow knocked a coffee cup behind her. Clodagh broke their contact .

“I think there’s probably a better place for this,” she said. “Somewhere we’re less likely to wreck your fancy coffee machine.” She smiled.

“Well,” said Kiera, “now you come to mention it, you haven’t had the grand tour, have you? Let’s start with the bedroom.” She led Clodagh to the narrow stairs that led into the Edwardian house’s attic. Her room was the size of the rest of the flat put together, with a sloping roof, and Kiera adored it.

“I love it,” said Clodagh, throwing herself backwards onto the wooden double bed against one wall.

“I’m glad you approve,” said Kiera, not quite sure how to respond.

“What are you doing all the way over there?” asked Clodagh, raising herself up on her elbows.

Kiera laughed and walked towards the bed. She sat on the edge and looked down at Clodagh’s prone form. Clodagh reached up, grabbed the collar of Kiera’s shirt, and pulled her down into a kiss. Kiera was at an awkward angle and her back was protesting, but she wasn’t about to worry about that. Instead, she adjusted, and climbed gently on top of Clodagh.

“Oh, I see,” said Clodagh, with a laugh. “It seems you have recovered your skills.”

“Maybe,” said Kiera, and she kissed the smile on the woman’s face. Clodagh pulled her in closer, and an unplanned groan made itself known from somewhere inside Kiera. She could feel Clodagh smile again, in amongst the kisses. Kiera laughed. “You’re cute,” she said.

“Cute, huh?” said Clodagh. “We’ll see about that,” she said, as she flipped Kiera onto her back, straddled her, and pulled off her own top.

Kiera genuinely thought she might die at the sight of the perfectly proportioned breasts, encased in a dark blue bra edged with lace.

“Oh, you like?” said Clodagh, smiling again.

Kiera had long ago learnt that she had no poker face. She laughed and nodded. “You need to come down here.” And Clodagh did, but not before deliberately placing one thigh between Kiera’s legs.

Kiera could feel the impact this was already having under her jeans. It had been a long time since someone had wanted her like this. She reached behind Clodagh, and surprising herself, skilfully undid the woman’s bra. “Smooth,” said Clodagh, “but now it’s your turn.” Clodagh sat up and pulled Kiera into a sitting position. “This needs to go,” she said, unbuttoning the navy shirt Kiera had agonised over. She shrugged her arms out and the shirt fell away. “Wow,” said Clodagh, gazing at the contents of Kiera’s bra. Kiera had always been faintly embarrassed, recalling having been called ‘buxom’ by a great aunt once as a teenager, and finding the experience mortifying. “You kept these secret, didn’t you?”

She pushed Kiera back onto the bed, and then started to kiss her neck, slowly moving her way down to her breasts. Kiera could feel Clodagh’s breasts graze her stomach, and between that and the kissing, she wasn’t sure she’d make it as far as taking off her trousers before she exploded. Clodagh’s tongue teased Kiera’s nipples through the sheer material of her plain black bra. Kiera gasped.

“I think I should take this off,” Kiera said, breathlessly. Clodagh allowed her to sit up again and take off her bra.

“Magnificent,” she said, her smile giving way to a look of pure desire.

Kiera’s confidence had grown, and this time she flipped Clodagh and pressed their breasts together. It was almost too much for her. But then Clodagh placed a hand between Kiera’s legs, and things went up a gear. She could feel the desire pooling inside her and she couldn’t help but reach down and undo her own belt.

“I didn’t think you could get any hotter,” said Clodagh, as she undid the button and zip of Kiera’s jeans. She artfully reached inside and stroked Kiera through her knickers. Kiera’s readiness for her touch had soaked through the material, and this time it was Clodagh’s turn to groan.

Kiera tried to speak, but it came out as more of a yelp. She kissed Clodagh hard, and in return, Clodagh pushed aside Kiera’s underwear and felt for herself how turned on the woman on top of her really was. She gasped. Then she smiled, and moved her fingers to magnify Kiera’s pleasure. This was the most intense physical experience Kiera had had in a very long time. The sensation of Clodagh’s hand and lips on her was euphoric. Slowly, Clodagh drew her fingers back and forth, listening to the rhythm of Kiera’s breathing for guidance. Kiera kissed Clodagh’s neck and breathed in her scent. Gradually, Clodagh’s fingers began to push harder. It was at this point Kiera cried out in a way that made her worry slightly about the thickness (or otherwise) of the walls between this flat and the houses either side. Within seconds, she had stopped worrying about the neighbours, as she allowed herself to be lost in the moment, giving herself to a long and loud orgasm.

A few moments later they were lying in each other’s arms, listening to one another breathing.

“I’m going to need a minute,” said Kiera, barely audible.

“You take all the time you want, babe,” said Clodagh, running her hand down Kiera’s smooth back, making her shiver.