The next morning I was reluctant to go downstairs. I had heard Eleanor arrive home not long after Lucy and I had gone up, and I didn’t share Lucy’s twisted enthusiasm to share the news. Lucy was blinded and love-struck. Eleanor was a wise woman who saw through me well before I recognised my own mistakes. Above all, she wanted Lucy to be happy. She may not have liked Joan very much, but at least Joan loved Lucy. All I ever did was break her heart.
“Come on, Lee. I’ll ask her to make pancakes. It’s Sunday after all.”
Was it Sunday already? And could this have been the most dramatic weekend of my life? The forty-eight hours in which I had made the most questionable decisions? I still had a few more hours to go — a few more records stood to be broken.
“You go ahead.” I chickened out, not ready for bravery, and craving a few minutes of solitude. “I’ll come right down.”
Lucy kissed me on both cheeks, her eyes brimming with, in all honesty, a quite scary intensity. “Take your time, darling.” She practically skipped out of the room and whistled when she darted down the stairs. Had she just called me darling?

I sank back into the pillows and let my eyes wander to a picture of Lou pinned to the cork-board above my desk. It was an almost full-length outside shot of her. She leaned against a wall and one side of her smile curled up ironically, her hair drifting backwards in the wind. What hit me most were her eyes, her glance so full of promise, sincerity, determination. 
“Fuck you, Lou Gallagher,” I whispered. But I was much more sad than I was angry. Despite everything, I was still so desperately in love with her then. I felt it in my gut and at the bottom of my throat as the tears swelled. I was about to get up and rip the picture off the wall when I heard a knock on the door. 
“Lee,” Eleanor’s voice said. “Are you decent?”
I figured she hadn’t climbed all the way up to the second floor to serve me breakfast in bed. I put on a robe and opened the door. Her face told me all I needed to know.
“What do you think you’re doing?” she asked, not hiding the fury in her voice. “She just came prancing down like a smitten teen.”
My motives were far from pure and I wasn’t proud of splitting Lucy and Joan up, but Eleanor’s tone was too much for me. All I had to do was flash one look in Lucy’s direction and she was there, willing and eager. I had given her what she had wanted for a long time. Me. And what about my desires? Was it so wrong to choose to be with someone who loved me like that?
“Please, Eleanor. Save me the speech. I won’t pretend I have a clue what I’m doing, but this is how it is now.”
She walked over the a chair in the corner and sat down. “You’d better start from the beginning.”

“Sounds as if quite a few people got hurt,” Eleanor said, after I had told her everything. “You most of all.”
“I won’t hurt Lucy. I promise you.” Then I wondered how I would ever manage that. Maybe I could find a way, maybe her love would be enough for the both of us. “Where is she, anyway?”
“Making pancakes with my friend Pat.”
“Your friend?” It felt so good to smile, to just be silly for a second.
“Come on, I’ll introduce you.”

To be continued…

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I slumped down in the couch and waited for Eleanor to come home. I needed her to talk some sense into me. I needed her cool level-headedness to extinguish some of the drama, because it was all getting a bit much. In the state I was in, and with too much whiskey polluting my blood, I was ready to head over to Lou’s house and forgive her, my own actions that night having been just as despicable as hers. Maybe we deserved each other. Then Lucy called me to say she was on her way over and I remembered Joan’s prophecy. She was right. It was only a matter of time before I hurt Lucy. I decided, as a measure of self-preservation, not to give the matter any more thought, not until later, when I would have the clarity of mind to hatch a new plan.

“Hey you,” Lucy said and she smiled with everything she had. How could I not requite that? She wrapped her arms around me, free of skepticism or doubts, and I didn’t understand where all this unconditional love came from, but I accepted it eagerly. I nestled in her hug, desperate to stay locked in her embrace for hours. I didn’t tell her about Joan. Instead, I let her push me down on Eleanor’s couch and undress me, again. She had a lot to catch up on.
“What about Eleanor?” I asked. “What if she comes home?”
“Don’t worry about her,” Lucy panted. “I think she’s seeing someone.”
Taken aback, I pulled my face away from Lucy’s for a second. “She’s what?”
“I’ll explain later.” She stared down into my eyes. “But first things first.”

“Eleanor’s dating?”
“I don’t believe people over sixty-five refer to it with that term.” 
I cradled Lucy’s head in the curve of my arm and let her voice wash over me, all nasal and posh. “Whatever it is she’s doing, I hope it makes her happy, because she’s going to have a fit once she finds out about this.”
“Don’t be silly. She’ll be elated that I finally got rid of Joan.”
The mention of Joan’s name sent a shiver down my spine, but what struck me most was that Lucy called the whole messy business ‘getting rid of’. “How did she take it?”
“Surprisingly stoic, it must be the quiet before the storm.”
The ease with which Lucy had dumped her had astonished me. I couldn’t help but feel deeply sorry for Joan. So many people got wounded this weekend, I thought. And for what reason? Because Claire Burns, once again, couldn’t keep her hands to herself?
“Did you love her?”
Lucy pushed herself up and wrapped a blanket around her naked upper-body. She didn’t look at me and mumbled something to the coffee table. Both yes and no would have been too disturbing for me to deal with.
“Let’s go upstairs. We’ll surprise Auntie Eleanor in the morning, if she comes home at all.”
I watched her patter barefoot out of the living-room, tip-toeing on the cold floor tiles, and I was overcome by such remorse, but it was too late now. I had Lucy by my side and she would have to stay there for a considerable amount of time. She was my boss and her aunt was my landlady. And she loved me. I had hurt her before and there was no more room for heartbreak.

To be continued…

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When the door bell rang a few hours later, a few hours in which I hadn’t moved from my bed because I was too numbed by the whirlwind of events and emotions of the past twenty-fours hours, I expected it to be either Lucy, or, as a way of uncontrollable wishful thinking, Lou, for another round of apologising. I had not expected it to be Joan, even though I clearly should have — my mind had done an excellent job blocking out that possibility. It wasn’t really Joan though, at least not the fiery, fierce, unbreakable Joan I knew.
“Can I come in?” she asked, and it was impossible to say no to the devastation in her eyes. Fuck, I thought, Lucy and I have just done to her what Lou and Claire did to me, or at least something disgustingly similar enough. All Joan was guilty of was loving Lucy and now she was stuck in the same circle of betrayal and heartbreak, and it was all down to me.
We walked into the sitting-room and without asking I poured her a glass of Eleanor’s sweet sherry.
“I understand that you’re hurt,” she started, unable to keep her voice steady, “and that Lucy was the evident choice for you to run to.” She kept her eyes on the rug. “We both know how she feels about you.” She downed the sherry in one quick gulp and I immediately refilled her glass. “But I love her,” she hesitated, but not for long, “and I’m not sure you can say the same.”
I was at a loss for words. I could hardly stand there and lie to her face. I couldn’t say that I loved Lucy, because I didn’t, not even a fraction of the way Joan did.
“You know me, Lee. I don’t go down without a fight.” She seemed to have found a bit of the other Joan again, the competitive unstoppable über-alpha version. She looked me over from head to toe. “And I can certainly beat you.”
I inadvertently remembered the time we spent in her gym together, and that one night in her bedroom with the whips, and a cold fear seized me. Joan Harris was not an enemy I would want in any condition, let alone in the wrecked state I was in then.
“What were you thinking?” she continued, drilling her eyes deep into mine. “That you could walk into Lucy’s house one day and just take her from me, without consequences?”
I hadn’t been thinking at all. That, as always, had been my main flaw. I didn’t have a plan. I was reeling, following my instincts, finding the path of least resistance to much-needed affection. I had cast Joan aside as an inconvenience, someone to be easily dealt with, collateral damage. Obviously, I had lost my mind.
She emptied her second glass of sherry, stood up, took a deep breath and strutted over to me. “I know you’re going to hurt her sooner or later, Lee. It’s as if you’re genetically programmed to do it.” I felt her breath on my cheeks. “So my advice to you is to walk away now.” She tilted her head sideways and her mouth found my ear. “Before it’s too late.” I was bracing for a punch in the gut, but she just walked out, controlled and quiet, leaving me trembling against the liquor cabinet. 
I turned around and drank glass after glass of whiskey — Eleanor had run out of brandy — until my nerves calmed down and my legs started wobbling with sudden drunkenness instead. What the fuck had I done? And why? And who was going to save me now?

To be continued…

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Lucy arrived at one o’clock. I was alone in the house so all I had to do was take her hand and lead her up the stairs, to my room.
“What’s gotten into you?” she asked when I closed the door behind her and pushed her against it.
“I need you.” I knew how it sounded and I knew she wouldn’t be able to resist. I gazed into her eyes, in maximum manipulation mode, and kissed her. I felt more than I had anticipated — instantly wanted and extremely desired. Lucy didn’t hesitate, not for a split second. We tore at each other’s clothes until we were naked enough. I let her ecstatic smile wash over me, let it warm me up inside. It was frantic and rushed and extremely wrong but it was love, at least on her part, and that’s what I craved, something unconditional, someone overlooking all my flaws, someone for whom I was more than enough.
Afterwards, when we had moved to my bed and I felt dirty and disgusting, the dizziness of mad desire and grief no longer filtering my emotions, I broke down. I cried for Lucy and Joan, for Lou, for Claire and for myself most of all.
“Should I split up with Joan?” Lucy asked.
“That’s not for me to say,” I hiccupped in between sobs.
“But it is.” Lucy stroked my face and wiped away my tears, her eyes beaming every emotion I had ever wanted a woman to have for me. She was my solution now. The answer to my questions. The remedy for my heartbreak. I needed her love.
“Then I think you should.”
“I’ll do it today.”
“Just like that?”
“For you? Yes.”
It felt so wrong and so right at the same time. So twisted but so necessary.
“I may need protection.”
“Don’t worry about Joan.”
“She can break me in two with the snap of a finger.”
“I won’t let anyone hurt you, Lee.”
Somehow, I believed her. I let her comfort and sweet-talk me for an hour longer, until she had to go. Once she left, I called Alex.
“Good God, Alex,” I said. “I believe I may have lost my mind.”
“Tell me something I don’t know.” His voice crackled through the phone, all warm and friendly and I knew he would understand. He probably wouldn’t agree or think of it as a successful move on my part, but he would get it. By then Alex had a decade of training in dyke drama.
“Ben can be your bodyguard,” he said.
“As beefy as he is, not even Ben can weather the wrath of Joan Harris.”
“Don’t insult my man, Lee. I can take a lot, but there’s a line.”
“It’s not an insult, homie. It’s a testament to his sensitivity.”
“You did steal her woman. I guess it’s only fair to let her be upset.”
“As long as that doesn’t include beating me up.”
“Are you sure about this, Leesbian? This whole Lucy thing? She’s your boss and maybe this time around she won’t be as forgiving when things turn sour.”
“I was sure that Lou loved me. I was sure that Claire wouldn’t stab me in the back anymore. What’s being sure ever done for us, anyway?”
“I suppose what I really want to know is, if you, huh, still have feelings for her?”
“Oh Alex, I haven’t got a fucking clue what I feel anymore.”

To be continued…

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I rang Lucy’s bell and I hoped, given the amount of buzzers I had pressed in the last twenty-four hours, it would be the last one in a while. While I waited for her to open the door I thought about what I would say, which strategy to deploy. It was only when the door was already being pulled ajar that I wondered what the hell I was doing there.
“Lee?” Joan was as perplexed to see me as I was her. “Is something wrong?”
I only had a very vague, subconscious plan swirling in the back of my mind, but Joan was definitely not part of it. What was she doing there? Why wasn’t she breaking someone’s spirit in her gym?
“Is Lucy home?” I asked, my voice trembling with uncertainty.
“Come in,” she said and stepped aside, her right arm pointing towards the hallway. “She just popped out to the shop. She shouldn’t be long.”
I followed her inside, feverishly trying to come up with a valid reason to knock on my boss’s door on a Saturday before noon.
“I presume this is about work?” Joan cleared some empty wine glasses from the coffee table. “Or is it a social call?”
“Yeah,” I mumbled. “Work. I have this deadline.” I sat down in the couch.
“What are you writing about?” Joan settled in the sofa opposite me. She crossed one leg over the other and drilled holes in my skull with her eyes. She was no fool. I was so empty, so drained of energy that I failed to come up with a suitable lie.
“It’s all right. I’ll call Lucy later.” I got up, my legs as shaky as my voice.
“How’s Jill?” She sprang out of her seat and put a hand on my shoulder, her strong fingers digging into my muscles.
“We decided to stop seeing each other.” I stared back into her eyes, unwilling to give her the complete upper hand.
“That’s a pity.” She moved her hand to my back and coaxed me to the front door.
“It is.”
Joan curled her other hand around the door knob but refrained from twisting it around. “I’ll let Lucy know you stopped by.” A tight smile played around her lips. “But we have plans all weekend, so I’m not sure if she’ll be able to get back to you.” She opened the door and gently nudged me out. A blue BMW pulled up to the curb and honked. Lucy waved from behind the window. She must have gotten a new car. Or it was Joan’s.
“What a surprise?” she said. “Are you leaving?” She exchanged a weird glance with Joan, whom I had my back to.
“She has a question about work,” Joan said from behind me, her voice cold. “It appears to be urgent.”
“Is it the piece on The Isle of Dogs?” Lucy asked with a straight face. “Why don’t I come round to Auntie Eleanor’s later? We’ll go over it.”
“Perfect.” We didn’t have any articles planned on any of the city’s neighbourhoods.
“After lunch?”
I nodded and made my way out of there. I had seen it in Lucy’s eyes though. She understood. She knew why I was there. She had been waiting for it a long time.

To be continued…

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