Chapter 2

Chapter Two

O n her way to the car park Kiera made a quick call, then hurried across the asphalt and into the driver’s seat to avoid the drizzle. Twenty-five minutes later she was at the Jam Pot, an independent café that had sprung up on Kings Heath High Street a few months earlier.

“Hey,” said the woman behind the counter, her wavy blonde hair pulled up into a messy bun. “I don’t normally see you on a Tuesday.”

“Call it living on the edge,” replied Kiera.

“Your usual?”

“Yes, please.” She sat at a table in the window.

“So not that much on the edge then?” The woman grinned.

“You know me,” said Kiera with an easy smile, running a hand through her own poker-straight short brown hair. The woman was younger than her, and Kiera couldn’t help but wonder whether she was married, or hoped to be married any time soon. What would she think of Kiera being a divorcee at forty-one ?

The dark cloud that had been threatening all afternoon finally burst. The downpour turned the High Street into a blur of brollies, puddles and car headlights in seconds.

Before too long, Kiera was presented with a cortado – a short, strong coffee with a bit of milk froth – and a doorstep slice of toast with butter and apricot jam spread generously all over it. She nodded her thanks, rebuking herself for caring about what the barista thought of her and her life choices.

Like a mirage emerging from a puddle, a woman appeared at the front window, shielding herself with a polka dot umbrella. She fell through the door, propped her brolly up and made towards Kiera. She sighed heavily and gave Kiera a soggy hug.

“I think I must have got here at the right time; it was only drizzling when I arrived,” said Kiera. Not that the rain mattered. Lou was her most reliable friend. She’d have come in a hurricane.

“Hmph, well good for you. I may just take off my shoes and empty them out into the drain outside. I’m soaked. Anyway, what’s the news you rang about?”

“My divorce came through.”

“Wow. Ok, I need tea and toast before we go any further with this conversation. Are you ok for a minute?” Kiera nodded and Lou went to the counter, her dark ponytail dripping down her back.

Kiera was half-way through her own toast when Lou returned with her order and installed herself opposite her. “Are you ok?”

“Not sure,” said Kiera. “It’s all a bit weird, really.” She took a sip of the coffee. “If you’d told me this is where I’d be a year ago, I wouldn’t have believed you.”

“Well, if I’m honest,” said Lou .

“And you usually are,” observed Kiera.

“Ha! Well, yes, I am. And I think you’re well shot of her. You deserve so much better.”

Kiera looked outside into the rain-drenched streets. “Perhaps. But it doesn’t feel good.”

“What choice did you have? It’s not like she’s even here.”

“I never imagined it would end this way,” said Kiera.

“Does anyone?”

“True.”

“You need more toast,” Lou told her. “You always need carbs at times of stress.”

Lou was of course correct. Kiera’s need for regular toast, bread, potatoes, pasta, rice – anything starchy and beige, basically – was notorious.

Once they were both on their second plate of toast, Kiera felt herself begin to relax a little.

“Anyway,” said Lou. “This means I can now live vicariously through you. Have you downloaded any of those dating apps yet?”

Kiera rolled her eyes. “No. What on earth do I have to offer right now? Fortysomething lesbian with a mediocre job and a heart held together by sticky tape and string.”

“More than you might think,” said Lou, more gently this time. “You’re a catch. Just because Chrissie couldn’t see that, doesn’t make it any less true. Come on, bab, you’ll be the toast of Kings Heath – an eligible single lesbian? I might be straight, but I know how it goes around here!”

Kiera laughed. Lou was at least partially right. The Birmingham suburb, just a few miles from the city centre, was well-known for its gay community, and in particular for lesbian couples settling down with their obligatory cats.

“It’s a wonder you ever met Dan, really,” said Kiera, with a wink. Lou had come across the man who would become her husband in one of the local pubs at a gig many years earlier.

“Well, I like to buck the trend. And you,” she pointed a finger at Kiera, “you deserve happiness. And, if all else fails, at least sex. When was the last time you… you know?” Lou wiggled her eyebrows up and down.

“A lady never tells,” said Kiera, giggling.

“So it’s been over a year, then.”

Kiera sighed. “Obviously. I’m beginning to think I’m in permanent retirement in that regard.”

“Rubbish,” said Lou. “Now you have the chance to be the slut you always wished you were.”

“I did?” said Kiera.

“Well, if you didn’t, you should have. Think of all those women, just waiting for you to bring your gorgeous smiley face and hot sex in their direction. They’ll be queueing up outside the door.”

“I know you said you wanted to live vicariously through me, but you’ve clearly been giving this a lot of thought,” said Kiera with a laugh. It was good to giggle with her friend, and be reminded that all was not lost. Perhaps she wouldn’t be alone forever. Perhaps Mystic Lou’s prediction of hot sex in her future was accurate.

“There’s no time like the present. Come on. Pass your phone over.” Lou’s hand grabbed the device, and before long she had her reading glasses on and was downloading an app.

Her eyes intent on the screen, Lou was pummelling Kiera with questions.

“Age? Forty, right? Type?”

“Forty-one. Type? Oh, I don’t know. If recent evidence is anything to go by, it would be flighty types unable to take responsibility for their own actions.” She paused. “Er, I suppose someone who’s intelligent, good hair, nice smile, funny.”

“And just girls, right?” said Lou, studiously going through the list of questions.

“Afraid so.”

“It’s the right call. Men are boring – look at me and Dan. I can barely tear him away from Netflix of an evening,” said Lou.

“Aw, but Dan’s a sweetheart,” Kiera told her, remembering the night he’d come to her rescue six months earlier, when the roof had started leaking.

“Oh, I know, he’s a goody. He’s just a bit dull. Anyway, this is about you, not me. Body type?”

“What, me? Or who I’m looking for?”

“Both.”

“What are the choices?”

“Curvy, slim, muscular, large, petite.”

“Oh, why is this so complicated?” said Kiera. “I remember when it was just about going to the pub, getting drunk and seeing what happened next. When did everything get categorised like this? I mean, surely you can be more than one of those things at any one point?”

“I didn’t make the rules,” replied Lou, her fingers drumming on the table as she eyed Kiera over her glasses like a schoolteacher.

“Ok, so put me down as ‘curvy’, although it’s a toss-up between that and ‘petite’. And what am I looking for? Who knows?”

“Shall I tick ‘don’t mind’?”

“Yes. Why didn’t you say that was an option?” said Kiera, draining her coffee and beginning to gather the final crumbs on the end of her finger. “Anyway, how do you know so much about lesbian dating apps?”

Lou grinned. “The things I do for my best friend.”

“You’re enjoying this, aren’t you?”

“As I said, my dear, it’s my chance to live vicariously through you. It’s been more than twenty years since I was single. Now, pictures. Smile for me.” Lou raised the phone towards Kiera’s face. “Hmm. Perhaps not that one.”

Kiera peered over. “I look like an escaped convict. Give that here. I have something better on there, I’m sure.” She began to swipe through her photographs. “Here, try this one.”

“Better,” said Lou, nodding approvingly at the picture of Kiera in a field holding a pint of beer. It had been taken at a festival, back in the summer, and the light provided a welcome contrast to the gloom outside. She took the phone back and fiddled a bit. “Ok, you’re online. I await news of queues of women beating down your door.”

“Fat chance. But I appreciate your faith in me.”

“More toast, ladies?” came a voice from the counter.

“No, thanks,” said Kiera with a smile. Two plates was enough even for her. “I need to get going.”

“Mister Chips?” said Lou, reaching for her coat, which was still dripping.

“Yep.”

Kiera knew she could technically leave her cat alone for longer periods, but she was new to cat ownership, and wanted to do things right.

“I would never have seen you with a cat,” Lou told her.

“He’s changed my life!” said Kiera, reaching for her own coat. She turned to Lou and gave her a quick hug. “Thanks, bab.”

“You’re welcome. You’re also awesome,” said Lou, giving her arm a squeeze.