This London Love (14 page)

Moments later, when Meg’s tongue pushed against Kate’s parted lips, Kate’s pulse threatened to expire. What if she fainted with desire? Seriously uncool, and Meg would really think she had a fainting issue. Instead, she went with the kiss, opening herself up, exploring with her tongue too, thrilling to the rush of excitement coursing through her veins.
She was so easy.

When Kate slowly pulled back a few minutes later, everything else was a blur — her only focus was Meg.

Meg looked drunk with emotion, her pupils swollen, her eyes watching Kate’s lips. Then she flicked her gaze back and let a slow, seductive smile creep onto her face. Meg leaned forward and pressed an open-mouthed, inviting kiss onto Kate’s lips, slipping her tongue slowly in and out for added impact.

It worked its magic as Kate gasped and felt the after-effects all over her body.

Meg turned up one corner of her mouth in triumph. “Well,” she began. “I think that was worth the wait.” Meg then licked her lips, which did nothing to calm down Kate’s libido, which was already hanging off the bannisters and singing Calypso songs; now it wanted to know if they were going to drop down on the ground and go at it right here, right now.

“We should have stopped talking and started doing that the moment I came into your shop,” Kate said. “All this wasted time.” She kissed Meg’s lips once more.

“It wasn’t wasted,” Meg said, rubbing a hand up and down Kate’s back. “It’s called build-up. Foreplay.” She kissed her again, before taking a small step back. “But I’m afraid that’s where it stays today as I’ve got an early start tomorrow, so I have to get home.”

Kate pouted in response. “Tease.”

Meg grinned. “That’s me.” She pressed a final, definite kiss on Kate’s lips, then stepped back and pulled on Kate’s hand, dragging her back along the path and towards the gate. Kate stumbled after her, still bewitched.

When they arrived there, the hum of traffic noise got louder, and a blue Audi passed by with its stereo blaring at full volume. Both Meg and Kate flinched.

Meg cleared her throat. “Well, I guess this is where I get off. But maybe we can meet again soon?”

“I’d like that a lot,” Kate replied.

Meg’s smile lit up her face. “Great. I’ll call you.” She paused. “And it was really great bumping into you today. Made my night, in fact.”

“Mine, too.”

Meg kissed Kate lightly on the lips, stole a second kiss, and then pulled away abruptly. “If I don’t stop now, it could get dangerous,” she said. “I’ll call you.” Then she kissed Kate’s hand and was gone.

Kate watched her go, feeling along her lips with the tips of her fingers. They were still burning.

18

“What’s got into you today?” Olivia was staring at Meg as she fiddled unsuccessfully with her latest bouquet of flowers, trying to fulfil the morning orders before their new delivery driver Stan came back for the next batch. “Yesterday you were Mrs Morose, today you’re Mrs Crackpot.” Olivia put her hand to her chin. “You’re not pregnant, are you?”

Meg gave her a look. “Yes Mum, I’m pregnant. That’s the obvious conclusion to jump to for your lesbian daughter. I just slipped up, had sex with a magic lesbian and now I’m pregnant with twins. Hence the mood swings.”

Olivia laughed and nudged her daughter with her hip. “Got you smiling at least.” She paired some dahlia and astrantia with some hypericum berries — a classic seasonal birthday bouquet. “Is it Tanya?”

Meg said nothing, which just invited more questioning.

“It’s Tanya, isn’t it? With her size two brain and her size ten mouth? I wish you’d let me come round and sort it out. Have you put the house on the market yet?”

Olivia licked her finger, selected two sheets of wrapping paper from the pile and put the finishing touches to the bouquet, slicing some Sellotape from the roller on the counter to fix the wrapping securely. Then she consulted the order book again, and walked across the shop to begin the next bunch. She stopped at a bucket of freesias and looked over at Meg, who was deep in thought.

“Meg?”

Meg looked up startled. “Sorry, miles away.” She smiled apologetically.

“I can tell. There I was going on about Tanya, and you said nothing. It’s a first for you, not defending the situation. I almost think that might be progress. So has there been progress?” Olivia raised an eyebrow.

Meg chewed the end of a biro and shrugged, but Olivia saw the grin that had crept onto her face.

“You’ve put the house on the market
finally
?”

Meg shook her head. “No, but I will. Soon. You’re right — it’s time.” Meg raised her eyes and looked her mum square in the eye.

Olivia’s cheeks flushed. “It certainly is.”

“Especially now,” Meg whispered.

Olivia walked back to the counter and arranged some lilies on the cellophane sheet.
“Especially
now?”

This time when she looked at her daughter, Meg was grinning in a way that Olivia hadn’t seen in quite some time. Not that she wasn’t thrilled to see her daughter crack a genuine, honest-to-goodness smile that lit up her whole face. It was just she hadn’t seen it for ages, so it took her by surprise.

“What’s going on?”

Meg was still smiling. “Do you remember that woman who was in here a couple of weeks ago? I did the flowers for her uncle’s funeral?”

Olivia squinted. “Maybe.”

“Well, I liked her. And then last night, she came to our running club to do a feature on us. She works for a fitness magazine.” Meg paused. “So now she knows I’m a lesbian.”

“Platinum hair, the one that fell over?”

Meg nodded.

Olivia smiled. “Yes, I remember her.” She wagged a finger at Meg. “I also remember the look you were giving her. So are you going on a date?”

Meg glanced at her. “We haven’t got that far yet. We only just established we were both gay and single last night. I was thinking coffee. I don’t want to scare her off. What do you think?”

Olivia rubbed her daughter’s back in slow, thoughtful strokes. “Coffee sounds perfect. It’s casual, and then if you get on you can invite her for something more. Candlelit dinner. Wine. Romance.” She shook her head. “Oh, you’re making an old woman pine for what she hasn’t had in quite a long time.”

Meg nudged her mum with her elbow. “
Stop it
. You’ve been out on more dates than me in the past few years. So even a coffee is a step in the right direction.”

“She might even buy it for you. And a cake.”

Meg grinned. “She already did that the other day.”

Olivia raised her eyebrows. “Then it’s only a short step to romance and wine for you.” She put her arm around her daughter and squeezed her tight. “I’m so pleased sweetheart. You’ve had a tough year. Let’s hope — what’s her name?”

“Kate.”

“Let’s hope Kate can bring a smile back to your sad face.”

“Mum…”

Olivia laughed, and went to get more flowers to flesh out the bouquet she was making. “Some eucalyptus and palm with the lilies?” She held up the flowers to Meg.

Meg looked at the semi-done bouquet on the counter and nodded her head. “Should work well.”

***

Later that day, when her mum had gone on an errand, Meg took her courage in her hands and sat on it before it could escape. It wasn’t like her to make the first move, to go after what she wanted. However, although she loved her mum dearly, Meg didn’t want to end up like her — alone.

She took Kate’s business card from her counter draw and spun it between her thumb and index fingers. Art Editor — it sounded official, grand. Meg grabbed her phone before she could change her mind and plugged in the number.

“Hello?”

“Hi Kate — it’s Meg.”

There was a slight pause, then Kate cleared her throat. “Oh, hi.” She sounded nervous. “How are you?”

“Good. You?”

“Very good. Particularly now you’ve called.”

Meg laughed — she couldn’t help it. “Smooth.”

Meg heard movement, rustling down the phone. “Is this a bad time?”

“Nope, not at all. Just taking you into a meeting room for a bit of privacy.”

Meg heard a door slam, then Kate’s breathing evened out.

“Okay?”

“Yep.” Kate paused. “It was great to see you last night.”

“You too.” Meg had a flashback to the kiss, which caused a flush down her whole body. She cleared her throat. “And I was wondering if you wanted to do it again? But maybe this time without me in Lycra.”

Kate chuckled. “I quite liked you in Lycra.”

Meg laughed too. “We can talk about your fetishes another time,” she said. “But for now, I was thinking a coffee after work. Either round here, or I could meet you halfway?”

“A coffee,” Kate said. “Sure, I could do a coffee, and happy to come to you.”

“Great.” Meg smiled down the phone. “Tomorrow night — about sixish?”

“I can make it for 6.15.”

Meg nodded and then realised she was on the phone. “Perfect. Pick me up at the shop?”

“It’s a date,” Kate said.

“This one certainly is,” Meg replied. “See you tomorrow.”

“I’ll look forward to it.”

Meg pressed the red button and stood smiling at her phone. This week was certainly looking up compared to the last one, the one before that and the one before that. In fact, her last date had been with someone she met online and she’d done coffee with her too. Only then, she’d pressed the eject button after ten minutes — right about the part where the woman told her she had six dogs. One dog, Meg could cope with. But six? No, thanks.

19

Wednesday night was a fine one when Kate left her work, a tall glass cruise ship of a building situated near the Thames, affording her views across the city direct from her desk. She was lucky — many of her friends in the media worked in basements and didn’t see daylight for hours on end.

Kate’s offices, on the other hand, had been built within the last five years and were still so new, they gleamed. Security staff patrolled the building making sure none of the staff scuffed the floor or dropped litter. Every glass door sparkled, the desks remained unscratched, carpets were still buoyant and chairs bouncy. Kate mounted her bike and rode out of the backstreet that the cycling bay backed onto, careful not to get oil on her freshly washed skinny jeans.

The London traffic was its usual busy self as she swung out onto the main road and raced along beside the cars, senses hyper-aware as she weaved around pedestrians, parked cars and the odd delivery van. Historic buildings rose up on either side of her and she breathed in the familiar scent of sunshine and exhaust fumes. She was glad she had her shades on, because the sun still held a fierce glare and she’d seen plenty of near-misses with cyclists and drivers.

Kate had been a proper London cyclist for a fair few years now. It was after being stranded on the top deck of a stationary bus one day that she had impulsively jumped off and gone into a bike shop. Before she knew what she was doing, she was having an in-depth chat with the woman behind the counter, and within half an hour she’d left with a serious-looking racer. Within two months it’d been stolen, but she’d caught the bug and bought another.

Kate’s mum was not a fan of her bike-riding, considering it another risk her daughter simply didn’t need to take. However, Kate loved the independence, speed and agility bike-riding afforded her in London traffic, and over the years she’d seen the ranks of fellow cyclists swell as people looked for other ways of commuting. She could get to most places quicker than by public transport and she could take her bike out to wider spaces at the weekends and really stretch her legs. Kate had never been a fan of running, but cycling suited her perfectly.

She negotiated the roundabout at the bottom of Waterloo Bridge, swung around the queue of cars and stood up in her pedals as the slight incline kicked in. She wiggled her shoulder to adjust the strap on her rucksack, then rode onto the bridge, up and over the Thames.

Waterloo Bridge was her favourite in London and now she was working nearby, she had the perfect excuse to cross it daily. She loved it in misty mornings and chilly winter evenings, but most of all, she loved it on days like today, with the sun sinking low in a clear sky and the river high, flowing to both sides.

On her left, the London Eye rotated slowly, and the South Bank heaved with tourists and artwork; while on the opposite bank stood Big Ben and the Houses Of Parliament, London’s shimmering golden palaces. A glance right and she saw the top of the Oxo Tower, the rounded dome of St Paul’s Cathedral and the city skyline piercing the evening sky. It was a view she never tired of. The vibrant scent of the river coated her nostrils as she passed over it — a mix of diluted ocean, oil and heat.

Half an hour later and Kate was nearing her destination. Jess had tried to stop her from cycling today, telling her she didn’t really want to arrive for her coffee date sweaty. But Kate had overruled her, saying she’d rather arrive a bit hot and bothered from a bike ride than hot, bothered and irritated from public transport. Anyway, she wasn’t daft; she was going to stop off at her mum’s house first so she could dump her bike and freshen up.