Chapter Text
The pressure has been building inside her chest for days, it seems.
At first she thinks it’s the weather changing. The bright clear days of summer have fled, leaving the oppressive mugginess of August crescendoing to its peak, boiling into thunderstorms that never actually come. Instead of finding its release, the sky just stays full and rumbly. The quilted grey ceiling of clouds is so heavy that it hangs lower than usual, like it’s pressing down on her as she makes her way home. So thick it makes it difficult to breathe, like there’s no fresh air left in London at all.
Then she blames it on work. Joanna has been on edge lately, as they leave behind the lazy days of summer and head into the hectic season in the publishing world. So everyone in the office is tense, everything sounds shriller, every move she makes a potential mistake that might fracture her whole career. And she had made a mistake today. There’d been a meeting with a writer and she was there to take notes, but she piped up at one point. Eloise has been in her ear about advocating for herself and taking up space – “Men, never wait to be asked their opinion, do they, Penelope?” – and in the moment it just wriggled up out of her. A suggestion. An edit, just a tweak to maybe embrace a younger audience. But the resounding silence and the quelling look Joanna sent her made her shrivel up on the spot.
No need to worry about taking up space when you cease to exist. Problem solved.
Except somehow she did seem to survive to the end of the day and that pressure in her chest just won’t relent.
She definitely does not consider that she might be feeling a certain type of way about the fact that Colin has been travelling all summer. That would be absurd because it’s not like she has any type of claim on the man or his time. He’s a friend. That’s all.
They did have that one Friday together in April before he set off. And maybe she went to sleep that night with a smile on her face and the memory of his twinkling eyes in her mind. Maybe it had felt a little bit magical to her. But April had quickly turned into May and off he went to Split. And Dubrovnik. And Athens. And Crete. (Not that she’s been keeping up with his social media posts religiously. But they have been messaging. Occasionally.)
And she’s just been here.
Eloise has been busy with Phil, and the two of them have fallen happily into their roles as new uncle and almost-auntie to the twins.
So the summer has felt long because of that, probably, and it’s not any one person’s absence that’s making her heart feel like it’s being stretched beyond capacity, until it’s just miles of threadbare sinew reaching from here to the Aegean Sea. Definitely not.
All the same, when she gets through the door and finds the flat dark and empty, the last bit of hope in her chest wooshes out of her, air from a punctured balloon. She hangs her antique key on the hook, toes off her shoes, drops her bag, proceeds past the depressingly empty living room, and flounces face first onto her bed.
“Penelope?”
Her heart jolts and she scrambles back up. “Eloise! Jesus, I didn’t know you were here!” She’s clutching her chest to stop her heart’s attempt to escape and then she’s crying.
“I’m sorry! I had a headache so I left the lights off and was laying down. Are you– Penelope, what’s wrong?” Eloise comes over to the bed and crawls up next to Penelope, wrapping her arms around her.
It’s so stupid because she’s properly wailing now and what even for? She can’t say. “I don’t know!” she sobs. Might as well admit it. “I think it’s just work? And like, the weather sucks?”
“The weather??” It sounds as silly to Penelope as it does to Eloise and then she’s laughing at herself while she’s crying, snot running through her nose, and maybe at least the pressure in her head will alleviate now?
“I had a shit day, I guess. And everything just feels…”
“Hard?” Eloise fills in, squeezing her properly.
“Yeah.” It’s watery and she feels so broken, but there’s a relief in saying it, actually.
“Do you know what you should do when everything feels hard? And hopeless?” Eloise asks. She’s petting her hair now and Penelope finds herself melting into the soothing touch. Her scalp feels all tingly and it’s nice to let herself be loved on.
“What should you do?”
“Have some bubbly with a friend.” Eloise says and plants a smooch on Penelope’s cheek. “Come on. I’ve got a bottle chilling in the fridge. We haven’t had a proper Champagne Friday in ages. Let’s catch up.”
So they do.
Penelope lets Eloise pull her out of bed and lead her to the velvet loveseat. She curls up there while Eloise pulls glasses from the cupboard. There’s the pop and fizz of the bottle being opened and then Eloise is handing her a glass and settling right in at her side.
Eloise clinks their glasses together, a toast without preamble. “Right then, tell me about your day. Let’s hear about this bad weather.”
When a giggle escapes, it’s one more bit of pressure escaping the relief valve in her chest. She takes a sip, letting the liquid spill over her tongue, and then tells Eloise about the meeting and Joanna (“Well, she’s a cunt!” Eloise says, as if that’s all there is to it. And maybe that is). She even tells Eloise about generally feeling down over the past couple weeks, confiding about her loneliness in these dog days of summer, eliding any specifics of who she might be lonely for.
“I’m sorry I haven’t been around as much lately.” Eloise is eyeing her shrewdly, perhaps gauging if her absence is the whole of it.
“It’s alright. I know Marina and George need a lot of support right now.”
“They do,” Eloise allows, “but nothing is more important to me than our friendship. I want you to know that.”
“I do, El,” she promises. Her glass is half gone. As the bubbles have spread through her veins, they’ve carried some of that weight from her chest all throughout her limbs until it feels like it’s just floated right out of her. She’s light and fizzy now, just like the champagne, and she sets it to the side, scooping a pillow into her lap for a cuddle.
“Marina’s mum is coming for all of September, actually, so Phil and I will be giving them time together. Which is good timing, because Mum wants everyone around loads for Colin’s homecoming.”
For the second time that night, Eloise just casually causes Penelope’s heart to stutter in her chest.
“For his… what? His homecoming?” She picks at the seam on the pillow, running her fingers over the soft golden fabric, not daring to make eye contact. She can feel Eloise’s gaze on her anyway.
“Yeah, I guess he posted this afternoon about the final leg of his trip or something. You know I’m not on socials. But mum immediately blew up the family chat about making plans.” Eloise tips the last of her champagne down her throat. “So mark your calendar for two weeks from now. Mum asked me to tell you.”
“Yeah?”
“Big party, I guess. Bit ridiculous, though, it’s only been a few months. Not like he’s been gone a year or something.”
“Right, yeah. Not that long.” Penelope lies agreeably, but Eloise is still eyeing her.
“Do you want another glass?”
Penelope assesses the fizzing in her limbs and decides it does need a refresher. “Yes, actually. I think this is just what I needed, so let’s double down.”
“That’s the spirit,” Eloise encourages. She retrieves the bottle and refills both their glasses. “And then shall we plot Joanna’s demise or do you want to put on a movie?”
“The movie, I think. No more Joanna until Monday.”
“Fair enough.” She puts the bottle back in the fridge, retrieves the remote, and passes it to Penelope. “Sad girl’s choice.”
Penelope snorts and swats Eloise with the pillow. “Thanks a lot!”
“Oi, watch the champagne!” Eloise lifts it in the air, dodging the assault, and Penelope sticks out her tongue at her.
“Seriously though, do you know what I love about this little tradition you made for us?”
“What?”
“It reminds us to stop and celebrate the little things, the bits of beauty we find in the world. I don’t know if you know, but I’m a bit of a cynic.” Eloise teases wryly.
“You? Nooo.” Penelope plays along.
“But you always remind me to find the beauty. Even when it’s hard.”
Penelope has to swallow down the lump in her throat to find her voice. “So much for being a cynic! Where is my Eloise and what have you done with her?”
“Yeah, I think I vommed in my mouth just saying that. But I hope you never change, Penelope.” Eloise hooks her arm through Penelope’s and cuddles right into her, laying her chestnut locks on Penelope’s shoulder. Penelope inhales the comfortingly familiar scent of Eloise’s macadamia nut shampoo bar lingering in her hair.
It’s funny how she’d been feeling so hopeless when she got home, but Eloise is right, with each other, and with the guardrails of this little tradition they’ve built, in this life they’re building, they can make their own beauty when they can’t otherwise find it.
With her best friend next to her, a two day reprieve from the office, and the promise of… better weather… just around the corner – just two weeks away – Penelope knows she can make it.
Two weeks.
—
The combination of champagne and the familiar cadence of 13 Going on 30 lulls Eloise to sleep, so Penelope pulls out her phone to scroll a bit while Matt breaks Jenna’s heart.
(Scroll a bit on Colin’s accounts, perhaps, but no one has to know.)
She sees a notification for a DM but she goes to his account first, pulling up the latest post. It’s a carousel of photos: white buildings, blue roofs, blue skies, even bluer seas; Colin with an ice cream cone, winking at the camera; a dainty orange and white cat peering from behind a planter full of flowers; more sea; sea and sea and sea. “Last stop Mykonos! It’s been an incredible summer, thanks for joining my journey. Τα λέμε,” the caption reads. Penelope hovers over the last phrase to select and search google translate: “see you.” She hearts the posts, then taps on her DMs.
One new message.
From Colin.
He’s forwarded the picture of the cat from his post. “Her name is Penelope! Proper ginger and everything. She lives at the cafe underneath the flat I’m renting here, and she’s always rubbing against my legs when I have my morning coffee, it’s adorable.”
Penelope feels her cheeks pull wide in a close-lipped grin, but she simultaneously feels mortified by this cat. Have some dignity for the sake of desperate Penelopes everywhere, good grief.
Penelope replies, “will they let you bring her home with you? I’ve always wanted a cat”
Her heart skitters when she sees the three dots indicating Colin is typing back to her. She really must get her heart under control.
“I think she’s pretty happy with her life here, I’ve seen her licking up two kids’ melted ice cream cones this week”
“only the best for my feline alter ego 😻”
She thinks that will be the end of the conversation, but his dots reappear immediately.
“did you and Eloise celebrate this week?” Then a picture pops up, a single glass of sparkling wine. “I was thinking of you.”
Well, fuck, if that doesn’t make it hard to pretend she doesn’t feel a certain type of way.
“yeah! we did. we toasted to the weather, lol”
It’s not not true.
“and to our friendship” she adds, feeling suddenly self-conscious. Best to redirect: “What did you toast to?”
“well, no one to clink with. It’s a bit lonely, actually. But in my head, I toasted to one last stop before home. I’m excited to see you”
“you all,” he adds quickly.
Him feeling lonely all the way across the continent somehow makes her loneliness here feel… well, less lonely. After all, she has Eloise to toast with – to curse her boss, to console her, to curl up on her lap for movie night. Penelope pets Eloise’s hair now, thinks of Colin and his lonely curls with no one to pet them. And it is a bit more bearable if her heart and his are feeling the same; she just wants to reach through her phone and hug him.
“We can clink together when you’re back, Colin”
He hearts her message and then replies: “Soon, Pen Xx”