When I first started this blog I had no idea that, a year and five months later, I’d be sitting down to write a post about a book inspired by it. Lee had quite a journey on this blog, and it isn’t over yet. In fact, I don’t think I’ll ever let go of Lee Harlem Robinson, the severely flawed but good-natured, blazer-wearing heroine of both this blog and the novel. But here we are now, today, and it is quite a day for me.

Don’t worry, I won’t go all sappy on you (even though I kind of want to), but writing and self-publishing this book has been such a pleasure – from first sentence, to first chapter to first draft and finally (after many more drafts) the final product. And it would never have happened without this blog. I have enjoyed writing it so much and I will surely miss it, but it’s time for something different now.

Come and Go is out today and is available as e-book and paperback. You can get it here: http://www.comeandgothenovel.com/buy/

Thank you for sticking around and I hope you give the book a try,

Hannelore Arbyn

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“Can’t she send you somewhere closer?” Alex asked, an incredulous look etched on his face. “Like Brussels or Paris. Somewhere the Eurostar goes, for instance.”
“We don’t have offices there.” I was still too shocked to display empathy towards him, my best friend I was considering leaving behind.
“Do you know what Hong Kong is, Leesbian? It’s China. They’re bloody communists. Do they even have lesbians there?”
“Less chance of heartbreak then.” I refilled his glass of port, catching a lost drop with my finger. “Anyway, I don’t have to go.”
“Don’t be daft.” He leaned back and crossed his arms over his chest. “A promotion like that? You’d be the boss. You have to do it.”
“It’s the other side of the fucking world, Alex.”
“You’ll be fine, sweetie. They speak English over there, and I’m sure you’ll find some girls to corrupt.”

The next few days I worked outside of the office as much as possible, giving Lucy a chance to catch her breath. When I went in on Friday, rushing inside the building to catch the lift before the doors closed, I found Lucy in it, as if she was waiting for me.
“I’ll take the next one,” I said.
“Don’t.” She pushed the open-door button so hard the blood almost drained from her finger. I stepped inside, the air heavy with awkwardness. “Have you reached a decision?” she asked.
“Yes,” I said to her reflection in the mirrored door. “I’ll do it. I’ll go to Hong Kong.”
“Good.” The BTG office was on the sixth floor so the ride up didn’t take very long. “I’ll start making the necessary arrangements.” As soon as the doors slid open she hurried out, and, without looking back, walked away.

Everyone I had spoken to, without exception, had advised me to do it. I had let their enthusiasm carry me and, in the end, determine the outcome. I spent the next months finding storage for the stuff I couldn’t take, answering the same questions with meaningless answers over and over again, acquainting myself with Hong Kong labour laws and attending farewell parties that grew more tearful as the date of my departure approached. A week before I was scheduled to leave, the last week of July, a severe bout of panic hit me straight in the gut. Was I really doing this? Could I do it? Would the loneliness not kill me? I turned to the one person I knew who had given up her homeland, for no less than love, decades ago.
“I heard you’re skipping town,” Claire said as soon as she had opened the door to her house to me.
“Oh yeah.” I didn’t wait for her to invite me in. I assumed I was welcome. “I can’t hang around here forever.” I stalked past her and waited in the dimly lit hallway.
“It’s so nice of you to say goodbye.” She leaned against the railing of the stairs, tilting her hips toward me in a way that almost made me want to stay. “Do you want a drink or would you rather go straight upstairs?”
I made no pretence of being there for any other reason. It had to happen, if only as an inevitable last goodbye.

“Is there any chance you’ll go with me?” I asked, only half-joking. I was scared out of my mind by then. Fear of the unknown clinging to my every thought and every action.
“Oh baby,” she said, her hair falling into her eyes as she hunched over me, “we’ve danced that dance a million times. I think it’s time we called it a night.” That’s when I knew I’d made the right choice.

THE END

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“We need to talk,” I said, wishing I’d have come up with a more original line. But what did it really matter in the end when hearts got broken and dreams got crushed?
“You don’t have to move in next week, darling.” She sipped from a bottle of beer, almost swallowing the top end between her over-sized lips. I’d let her finish her curry first, figuring she wouldn’t be able to eat any more after I’d dropped my bombshell. “It’s just something to think about.”
“It’s not about that.” I played with my bottle, peeling off the label. I wondered what hurt the most, being dumped myself or this nerve-wracking waiting-game for the best moment, for the right words to find their way out of my mouth.
“I know,” she said and her words surprised me so much that my heart started thundering beneath my ribcage. “You’ve been different since you saw Claire at that party. Did something happen?”
“No.” I shook my head. “Not what you think anyway.”
“What then?” she urged, her eyes already getting moist, anticipating the worst.
“I just don’t think this is working out. Us. It’s not, erm, enough, I suppose.”
“Tell me the truth, Lee. Did you fuck her?”
I realised then that if I’d said yes she would have forgiven me. “No. It has nothing to do with Claire. It’s me. You deserve better than me.”
“That’s bullshit.” She remained so calm, so willing to work it out. As if she believed that if she let her emotions come through too much, everything would be instantly lost, as if clinging on to sanity and logic could save her. “Don’t pin this on me. You know how I feel about you.” She looked away for a split second. “Is there someone else?”
“No, it’s not like that.” How did you tell someone that you didn’t love them enough without breaking their spirit for life?
“Then we can work it out. I know we can.” Lucy the negotiator was getting the upper-hand. “I know you love me.”
“I do, but just—” I hesitated for a moment, then stopped thinking and landed the final blow. “—not enough to see this through. Not like I loved Claire, or Lou. It doesn’t feel right anymore.” I might as well have punched her in the face.
“Oh, so you prefer being cheated on, do you? You like to be treated with no respect. Well good luck to you. Darling.” She took a few shallow breaths. “Unbelievable.”
“You’ve given me so much, but it’s time to move on. It doesn’t feel right anymore. I feel as if I’m leading you on.”
“Give me a minute,” she said and got up. “I’ll be right back. Stay. Please.” She took her beer and walked to the kitchen. I heard the sound of glass shattering against the floor, but I didn’t get up. I un-muted the television and watched Eastenders until Lucy came back into the sitting room. She leaned against the couch, the furthest away from me as possible. “I think you should go to Hong Kong.”
“What?”
“I can’t fire you because you don’t love me enough. I want to, but it wouldn’t be fair.” As if I wasn’t feeling bad enough about beating Lucy’s big heart to a pulp. I wanted her to sack me. I needed to be punished. “But I can’t have you in the office with me every day, and I can’t have you living at auntie Eleanor’s anymore.”
“But—”
“And I wouldn’t have to see you with anyone else,” she continued, as if sending me away, to the other side of the planet no less, would dissolve all her grief. “With Claire or Lou or anyone else you could love enough.” She looked at me with eyes begging for relief. “It’s your choice, Lee. Think about it.”

To be continued…

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“You stand to lose a lot,” Alex said. I had met him for lunch the next Monday, the only time we actually managed to get alone these days.
“Maybe,” I listlessly took a bite out of my sandwich. “But not as much as staying with her would cost me.”
“What if she fires you?”
“I’m already looking into other opportunities. I won’t be able to stay at BTG. Not this time.” I couldn’t bear to eat anymore. My stomach clenched at the prospect of hurting Lucy.
“You can stay at ours for a while if Eleanor kicks you out.”
“Thanks, homie.” I realised how lucky I had been to get a cheap room at Eleanor’s for so long. Rent prices were still skyrocketing and then there was the dreaded search for roommates. I was about to pull the bottom out from under my life, the only difference was that this time it was intentionally.
“That’s what friends are for.” He eyed my sandwich. “Are you not eating that?”
I shoved it towards him. “I’m more in the mood for a liquid lunch.”
“For what it’s worth, I think you’re very brave,” he said before tucking into the rest of my chicken-avocado sandwich.
“It’s not a matter of courage.” I felt the tears well up behind my eyes a little bit. “It’s not even a matter of choice.”
“Are you finally coming of age, Lee Harlem Robinson?” Over the table, he grabbed my hand. “About ten years too late, but then again, it’s never too late, is it?”
I shook my head. “I guess not.”

When I got back to the office I ignored Annabelle and knocked on Lucy’s door directly. She was munching on an apple behind her computer.
“Is that all you’re eating?” I asked.
“Your concern is heart-warming, darling.” She pulled her lips into that wide grin again. I would miss that smile. “But it looks like Hong Kong is happening. Now all I need is the right person for the job.”
“I’m sure you’ll find someone. You always do.”
She looked away from her screen and pinned her eyes on me, giving me all of her attention. “What can I do for you?”
“Can we meet at your place tonight? I’ll bring some take-out.” Part of me had wanted to wait until the weekend, so she’d have at least two days to process, but it suddenly seemed so urgent, and wrong to postpone.
“Sure, you have the key. Let yourself in if I’m not home yet.”
“Okay.” I turned to leave.
“You should move in, you know,” she said, out of nowhere.
I had my back to her and took a deep breath before facing her again. “I’ll think about it.” I forced my lips into a smile.
Lucy got up from behind her desk and walked over to me. “I’m sorry, darling. I shouldn’t have sprung it on you like that.” She kissed me on my forehead. “Are you all right?”
“I’m fine.” So much wasted kindness, I thought. Cheating would have been much easier. “I have an interview this afternoon, so I’ll see you at home.” I was relieved that I didn’t have to spend the rest of the day looking at her open door, searching for her shadows.
“Bring me a chicken tikka, will you?” she said.
I was thinking of a bottle of brandy instead.

To be continued…

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I saw them standing together and I knew. The awkward conversation they engaged in faded to nothing and I just saw their lips move. My past and future in romance collided in that moment and delivered a gut-wrenching blow to my stomach. Two versions of love battled for the upper-hand right in front of my nose. On the one hand, there was Claire, with her tight face and arrogant gaze, who stood for no-holds-barred passion reined in by a slew of impossible rules. Facing her stood Lucy, wide-lipped and freckled and so generous with her affections, so unconditional in her love for me that it verged on the ridiculous. It wasn’t even a battle really, it was more of an aha-moment, a revelation waiting to happen. I was only thirty and I felt as if I’d given up on love. As if it had dragged me down so much that I had no choice but to choose the unadventurous, safe, easy kind. Somehow I had learned to love Lucy and her dependable ways but in no way did it compare to what I had felt, or maybe still did, for Claire. It didn’t even come close. 

It’s not that I was suddenly overcome by a desire to ditch Lucy and let Claire feel me up in a dark corner of the hotel. It was just a plain and simple realisation that I shouldn’t settle for anything less than the torrent of emotions and the never-ending waves of passion I’d felt for Claire Burns. I had experienced the beginnings of it with Lou, but that had gone to hell before it could even develop. What I knew for certain though, was that I didn’t have it with Lucy. That was more make-belief, convenience, an easy way out. I watched their mouths form words in slow motion and I knew I had to make a choice. Break it to Lucy in a gentle, adult manner or a return to the despicable form of what oddly seemed my past now. Talk or cheat? Either way, I would break her heart.

“Shall we go back in, darling?” Lucy asked while wrapping her fingers around mine, and I was snapped out of my daydream. 
I smiled and squeezed her hand. “Just give me a minute to powder my nose.” I turned to look at Claire one more time. She winked at me as if she knew something. She probably did. I locked myself in for long minutes, blotting out the sounds of women entering and leaving again. Then my phone beeped. My hands were slightly shaky when I dug it out of my pocket. Somehow I knew it would be Claire. She was predictable like that. Meet me in Room 405 in twenty minutes, it said. It was decision time already. I had more respect for Lucy than that, though. She deserved more than to be discarded like that again. And I didn’t want Claire back. She was just the trigger, the intensity of our relationship the measure I wanted to hold myself to. Ten tumultuous years in romance had proved insightful enough not to let myself get burned by Claire again. No, I typed and sent it with a sense of relief bubbling through me. But the hardest part was yet to come.
I walked back into the room and was scooped up by Alex.
“Good news, Leesbian,” he said. “That coward Lou isn’t coming tonight. Apparently she’s not feeling well.” He curled his fingers into air quotes. “That’s one less bitch to worry about.”
“That’s one way of putting it,” I said and stole his champagne glass out of his hand.

To be continued…

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