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Sarah waved and blew kisses goodbye until the car turned the corner and left her sight. She sighed deeply and returned to the strangely quiet house. She couldn’t remember the last time she was in the house alone. There was always the sound of kids chattering or bickering or running loudly, and more recently, her and Stéphane arguing.
Sometimes the house felt haunted, by echoes of good and bad memories. She was doing everything she could to purge the negative energy that seemed to surround Stéphane, but with work and now raising two rambunctious boys as a single parent, there wasn’t much time or energy for that.
She was incredibly grateful to her parents for taking the boys for the whole weekend, giving her the opportunity to finally breathe. She had been running at full speed for months and she was so tired.
Tonight, she would allow herself space to fully sit in her anger and grief before using the rest of the time alone for more positive and productive thoughts and actions.
Her first order of business for her night of wallowing was to change into her softest and most comfortable pyjamas and thick, fuzzy socks. She was tired of eating quick and kid-friendly mac & cheese and chicken nuggets, so she ordered a spicy Indian takeaway to be delivered. She also had her favorite ice cream ready for later in the evening.
While she waited, she opened a bottle of wine and collected a few soft blankets. Soon, she was nested into the sofa with a plate of masala and vindaloo, with High Fidelity queued on the telly. It was a nostalgic comfort film for her, but featured breakups and exes, so it seemed appropriate. Plus, you could never go wrong with young John Cusack.
Once she was done with her dinner and onto her second glass of wine, Sarah found her mind wandering from the film. She had gotten so used to ignoring her feelings, but she took this rare chance to let loose all of the emotions she usually bottled up and shoved down, in order to be an anchor for her kids. Now she let the heartache and rage loose and dove into the deep end of the pain.
Although Stéphane had only formally left a few months ago, she had felt alone for a lot longer. Stéphane was emotionally out the door ages ago, and had only stuck around because Sarah had begged him not to abandon his family. Now she wondered if that had done more harm than good for the boys.
David was sullen and quick to anger, lashing out at her and his brother frequently. It was hard to take the hurtful hits from him, on top of Stéphane’s outbursts. And poor Nicky was practically glued to her side at all times, trying so hard to be good and to comfort her, when his little heart surely had to be broken too.
As spectacularly as it ended, it was hard to remember how wonderful the beginning had been. She met Stéphane in Paris while she was doing a study abroad program in uni. He was dashing and sophisticated and his accent made her knees weak. He showered her with attention and romantic gestures and she fell hard and fast. It was a whirlwind romance and she basked in the glow for the few months they were together.
They were long distance for six months until Stéphane was able to transfer to a London branch and they were married within another six months. Getting pregnant with David was a surprise. Sarah had been over the moon with excitement. She’d always wanted to be a mother. Stéphane was less enthused, and admitted he’d never really thought about having kids and was unsure how he would cope. By the time David was born, Stéphane was on board. The first year was hard. David was colicky and fussy, but Stéphane worked long hours so Sarah took on almost everything.
She really wanted David to have a sibling, but it took a long time to convince Stéphane to have another baby. David was four by the time Nicky was born. Nick was a dream baby, always sweet and easy. Stéphane worked even more hours, saying he was saving up for a house for the family. Sarah often felt like she was shouldering the vast majority of the parenting, but did what needed to be done.
As the years went on, Stéphane was gone more than he was home. He had risen in the ranks and was now traveling a lot, on top of long hours. They did buy a house, but Sarah had insisted on Truham instead of London. They could get twice the house and Sarah would be closer to her parents, so they could help. Stéphane was never around, so it seemed to her that the family should come first, as far as location.
Sarah sometimes thought that her insistence to move so far from London was the beginning of the end. In the rare instances that Stéphane was home, he complained about the commute to the airport and how boring the suburbs were. He wanted fine restaurants and swanky bars, not cosy pubs and the corner shop.
She hoped that once the kids were older that Stéphane would take more interest. He did spend some time with David, tossing around a rugby ball in the garden on occasion. David followed his dad around like a shadow, trying to imitate everything he did, unfortunately. Stéphane had some rather misogynistic views on some things and David soaked up his macho attitude.
Nicky was smaller, so naturally spent more time with her. He didn’t seem to know how to act around his dad, probably because he rarely saw him and interacted with him even less. Sarah wondered how much 5-year old Nicky even remembered his dad. His clinginess was more to do with her being sad and him wanting to be a comfort to her.
The fighting just kept escalating, the more and more Stéphane was away from the house. He didn’t even come back to the house between business trips half the time, staying at a hotel in London near the airport. When she called to check in, he showed very little interest in her or the boys, if he even answered the phone. He just wanted to brag about his fancy projects and about all the people he was schmoozing.
Their lives were diverging, going in very different directions, and Sarah was the only one that seemed to care. She was consumed with raising their children and running their home, all Stéphane seemed to care about was work. When she tried to bring it up, Stéphane was defensive and dismissive. When Sarah found a shirt of his in the laundry with the smell of perfume and lipstick on the sleeve, she knew it was over. He left the next day and hadn’t been back.
Being a single parent was hard, but in some ways it was easier. She could raise the boys her way, without Stéphane’s judgemental comments, overwhelming indifference, and guilt that she couldn’t get their father to care. After all, she’d been raising them basically by herself for years anyway. Now she could divert all the energy she’s been spending trying to engage with Stéphane into better ways.
Their early marriage had been good, exciting and fulfilling. Now that Sarah looked back, it was obvious that Stéphane was never meant to be a family man. If she hadn’t accidentally gotten pregnant, he probably would have never been on board with kids. But even with the difficulties, she couldn’t regret her marriage, because it brought her two precious boys into her life.
No, she didn’t mourn what had been. She was mourning what could have been, what should have been. She made her wedding vows in good faith and would have given all she could to keep their marriage strong. But that’s impossible when only one person is invested or even cares. She couldn’t do it alone and proved that by giving and giving for years and getting little back.
Now, she’s on her own. Things had stabilised in the house to a large degree, David’s ill temper notwithstanding. She could be sad and hurt and angry tonight. But tomorrow was a new day in her new life and she was determined to make the most of it.
~ ~ ~ ~ ~
Sarah had a nice, late lie in and woke up more refreshed than she’d felt in months. She took a long shower before dressing in worn out jeans and a soft, faded t-shirt. After her morning tea and toast, she attacked the house with vigour, cleaning both floors thoroughly. It was nice to be able to do the chores without interruptions, and she enjoyed her sparkling home now, because it wouldn't stay that way when the boys returned.
For lunch, she ordered another takeaway, a Chinese this time, and ate out in the back garden while she listened to an audiobook. She had worked hard all morning, so she decided to take an extremely rare nap. Thinking back, the last time she could remember taking a nap was falling asleep along with Nicky when he was a toddler.
She woke in early evening a little groggy, but perked up quickly when she thought about her plans for the night.
Towards the end of secondary school, Sarah had undergone a short, but intense, punk phase. On weekdays, she wore the stuffy school uniform of skirt, tie and blazer. But for evenings and weekends, she went full punk, or at least as much as a well-behaved girl in the suburbs could. There were some rather incriminating photos of her in a box somewhere in the attic that the boys were going to laugh at, if they ever discovered them.
Her hair had been much too long to spike, so she’d resorted to spiky space buns and fringe to go with her heavy winged liner. She’d snuck out and gotten multiple piercings in her right ear, much to her mother’s horror, and stacked it with silver studs and rings. On nights out, she'd substitute one or two earrings for safety pins. She’d scoured the charity shops for big flannels and jeans to rip, but her prized possession was the black leather Doc Martens boots that she got for Christmas in Year 13. It was the only thing she asked her parents for that year, and she repeated the request often enough that they caved. She wore them everywhere. She even wore them to leavers day, when she couldn’t get in trouble for them.
During the summer before uni, she and her friend Mary had attended every punk show they could find and afford, especially the riot grrrl bands. Some were terrible, some were great, but they were all a blast. The energy of the crowd, screaming along to the band, was like nothing else. The pinnacle of their punk girl summer was seeing Bikini Kill.
Just thinking about it gave her a nostalgic thrill, which brought her to this evening. There was a punk revival show going on in London tonight, headlined by Bikini Kill, and she was going to be there!
When her friend Mary told her about the show two months ago, she had said yes without hesitation. She’d figure out the logistics later. This was an opportunity to let loose and reminisce and she wasn’t going to turn it down.
She’d gone up to the attic right away and dug through boxes until she found the one with old clothes. She had found her beloved Doc Martens and was glad her feet hadn’t got bigger with pregnancy, like some of her friends experienced, so she could still wear them comfortably. She felt just as badass in them now as she had back then. She’d even worn them for the grocery shop last week, just because she could. She may be a sometimes frumpy, divorced single mum of two, but she could still be cool, if she wanted to be.
She’d also found her vintage Bikini Kill t-shirt. It had been tight when she was 17 and no matter how she pulled and stretched, her two pregnancies had definitely done a number on her figure. There was no way she could comfortably or decently wear it out in public and she wasn't willing to cut it up.
She found some new BK t-shirts online, but she wanted the nostalgic bragging rights from wearing the original. It took awhile, but she found one exactly like her vintage one a few sizes larger on eBay and bought it immediately. She couldn’t believe her luck! It had arrived three days ago and it was perfect.
She took another shower to rinse off the sweat from the housework and the grogginess from the nap. It took her three tries to get her hair in satisfactory space buns. She couldn’t get the spiky ends the way she wanted. She was 15 years out of practice, after all. She was pleased with herself that she got the winged eyeliner almost perfectly on the first try.
Once she’d dressed in her (new) vintage t-shirt, the ripped jeans and flannel she’d once again sourced at charity shops on her lunch hours, and her Doc Martens, she studied herself in the mirror.
As busy and distracted as she was most days, she rarely took time to really examine her own appearance, beyond making sure her clothes were appropriate and not on backwards or something.
It was true that she had changed a lot since the teenage version of this punk look. She was older, with lines by her eyes and mouth and more than a few grey hairs streaking through the light brown. Her hips and arse were definitely wider, but objectively, she thought she looked pretty good for her age. The excited sparkle in her eye made her look and feel younger. She was really looking forward to letting loose and rocking out to some great music.
~ ~ ~ ~ ~
Sarah double checked she had everything in the small bag slung across her body and headed out to the Uber. She was splurging on a private ride to the train station. Mary was meeting her in London, so was on her own on the train ride north.
She got a few funny looks from other passengers but chose to ignore them and play a game on her phone. The hour-long ride flew by and soon she was running across the terminal into a big hug with one of her oldest friends.
“Oh my God, Sarah, you look amazing!” Mary gushed. “It’s like time travel, seeing you dressed like this.”
“You look great, too,” Sarah returned the compliment. “I love your t-shirt!”
Mary was wearing similar ripped jeans and her own pair of Docs, but in burgundy. She was wearing a black leather jacket with silver studs on the collar and a shirt from The Strokes.
“I can’t believe you still have that jacket!” Sarah exclaimed. It was the same one Mary wore to see Bikini Kill years ago.
“I can’t believe it still fits!” Mary laughed. “If I dance too energetically, the arms might split.”
They both laughed and hugged again, thrilled to be reliving this key adolescent experience together.
“Shall we go?” Mary asked, extending her elbow for Sarah to hook with her own.
“Let’s do it!” Sarah replied enthusiastically.
In a nod to what could be considered their age, but was really just wisdom and common sense, they skipped the bus and got a cab. It wasn’t a long ride to the venue, but they enjoyed the privacy and lack of unpleasant noises and smells on the Tube.
All they could do was look at each other with disbelieving smiles when they joined the queue. There were a lot of young people, in a vast array of dress. Some were dressed similar to themselves, but some were straying into what Sarah would consider more emo. She was particularly impressed with the bright green liberty spikes on the young man a few people ahead of them.
They were gratified to see that a good portion of the crowd was their age, or even older. There was a pretty woman with an auburn pixie cut and a tight baby doll tee just in front of them, talking to a man in head to toe black leather. They made eye contact a few times and smiled politely at each other. The fourth or fifth time it happened, Sarah got the distinct impression that the woman was checking her out from head to toe. She instantly felt a blush spread across her cheeks and kept her eyes focused on Mary for the rest of the queue.
Once inside, the venue was much more organised than Sarah would have expected for a punk rock concert. It was more civilised than she remembered the shows being when she was a teenager. There were clearly marked lines for drinks, a seated balcony wrapped around three sides and a large open area in front of the stage. People seemed to conform to the directions given, in a big change from the original punk scene, where ignoring rules was pretty much mandatory.
Mary headed into the pit to stake a spot about halfway back, in line with the middle of the stage. They knew from painful experience not to hang out right next to the large amps flanking the stage. Sarah got in line for drinks. She’d been waiting for about five minutes when someone said “Hi” behind her. She turned and looked into gorgeous green eyes, outlined in heavy black eyeliner, of the woman with the pixie cut from the queue.
“Um, hi,” Sarah returned, feeling inexplicably shy.
“I really like your t-shirt,” she said with a smile. “Have you ever seen them live?”
“Oh, yes!” Sarah said, warming to the subject immediately. “I saw them at the Garage back in the 90s.”
“No way!” the woman said, nodding approvingly. “I wish I had, but my parents were really strict and wouldn’t let me go.”
“It took a lot of convincing for my parents, that’s for sure,” Sarah chuckled. “I may have downplayed the…. scene a bit. They only agreed because my girlfriend from school was going with me.”
For some reason, the woman’s bright green eyes lit up at this. “Girlfriend, huh?” she said.
"Yes, my best friend all through secondary,” Sarah clarified. “She’s actually here with me tonight. She’s saving us a spot in the pit.”
The woman's smile dimmed a bit, but Sarah really couldn’t say why. She smiled, though, and said, “That’s really fun that you’re reliving your big adventure together.”
“I know, right?” Sarah said happily. “When she told me Bikini Kill was playing in London again, I just had to be here. Took a bit of juggling to get my parents to take my kids, but it’s totally worth it to finally get a night out on the town.”
“Oh,” the woman said. “Is your husband OK with you going to a punk concert in the big city without him?”
“Well, my ex -husband doesn’t get to say anything about it all,” Sarah responded with a bit of irritation in her voice. “Not that he would have noticed when he was still around,” she added, rolling her eyes.
“Um, I’m sorry?” the green-eyed woman said hesitantly. “Or maybe congratulations?”
“Definitely the second!” Sarah said and laughed. The other woman smiled prettily.
“My name is Alyson, by the way,” she said and extended her hand.
“Sarah,” she returned and reached out to shake hands.
The moment their hands touched, Sarah felt fluttery and a little warm all of a sudden. The woman held her hand for maybe a touch longer than was customary while looking into Sarah’s eyes.
“It’s lovely to meet you, Sarah,” Alyson said.
“You as well,” Sarah answered. She could feel herself blushing again. What the hell was going on with her tonight? She really needed to get out more, she supposed. She was saved from further nerves by the bartender calling out that she was next. After she had collected her and Mary’s drinks, she turned and said goodbye to Alyson.
“I hope you have a great time tonight,” Sarah said. She had to lean in closer to the woman’s ear to be heard, as the noise volume was going up as more people entered.
“It’s been pretty great so far,” Alyson replied, then Sarah was almost sure that the woman winked at her.
All Sarah could do was smile and look down at her Docs, before hurrying over to Mary. She passed the drink over and took a long sip of her own. She was definitely feeling a little heated after that exchange. She couldn’t help herself from looking back over her shoulder, only to find Alyson already looking at her. Alyson smiled brightly and gave a little wave with her drink in her hand. Sarah quickly turned forward and made sure she focused on Mary as the venue filled up.
Soon after, the first opening act came on stage and all Sarah could think about was the music and energy of the crowd flowing all around her. She didn’t really listen to this type of music anymore, but she found herself transported to a long gone era of her life and danced like she was a teenager again.
When the first band was done, Mary volunteered to get them drinks this time. Sarah was both relieved and a little disappointed. She slowly scanned the pit and the seated areas above, just taking in the crowd. One thing that was so great about live music is that it brought together a wide range of people who might not otherwise mix much. There were young and not so young, and everyone from harcore punk to middle aged jeans and practical button ups. It had been ages since she’d experienced this unique blending pot of human experience and she thought to herself that she should make it a priority to get out to concerts more often.
This time away from the kids made her feel a bit guilty, but there was not doubt it was good for her. She felt energised and more present than she had felt in a long time. The line took much longer this time and the next band was almost about to start by the time Mary made it back.
The next band was better than the first and the set was a little longer. Sarah was hot and sweaty and her back was starting to ache by the time they were done. The crowd had grown bigger and the room to dance and move freely had become smaller. She and Mary consulted and decided to head up to the balcony to see if there was anywhere to sit for the third band. They grabbed water on their way upstairs and found two seats in a mostly empty row. They sat for a bit, reviewing what they’d seen so far. Mary had to use the loo, so Sarah set her bag on Mary’s chair to save her seat.
A couple of minutes later, she heard someone clear their throat to her right and looked up to find Alyson smiling down at her.
“Is that seat taken?” she asked, pointing to the other side of her than Mary was sitting.
“Oh! Uh, no, not at all,” Sarah said. What was it about this woman that made her so flustered? She never usually had trouble talking to people, even strangers. It was actually a really good personal skill that served her well in her job.
“Thanks,” Alyson said, sitting down with a grunt. “I don’t remember my feet hurting like this when I went to gigs back in the day.”
Sarah laughed. “I know what you mean. We came up here because our backs were aching.”
They shared a chuckle and sat quietly, watching the bands switching out instruments and equipment on stage. Sarah was feeling the silence getting a little tense, so decided to keep up the conversation.
“Are you enjoying the show?” she asked politely.
“Oh, definitely,” Alyson answered. “The first band wasn’t exactly to my taste, but you can’t beat a live crowd.”
“That’s very true,” Sarah agreed. “Even if the music isn’t the greatest, the energy at a gig is just electric.”
“Do you go to concerts often?” Alyson asked, placing all of her attention on Sarah.
“No, not at all,” Sarah replied. “This is the first live music I’ve seen in, oh, almost a decade?”
“Really?” Alyson asked, her eyebrows raised. “How come?”
“Well, I’ve been busy being a mum and trying to save a marriage that was probably doomed from the start,” she said, maybe a bit bitterly, try as she might not to.
“How many kids do you have?” the other woman asked.
This beautiful woman at a punk show couldn’t possibly care about this, but she seemed so interested. She did ask, after all. It would be rude not to answer.
“I have two boys,” Sarah said with a proud smile. “They’re 9 and 5.”
“That must be a lot of fun,” Alyson replied. “And a lot of work.”
“Yes, to both,” Sarah said, laughing. “How about you? Husband, kids?”
“Well….” Alyson said, seeming to hesitate. “It would be a wife if I had one, but no to both.”
“Oh, gosh, I’m so sorry!” Sarah exclaimed. She was mortified. “I shouldn’t have presumed.”
“Don’t worry about it,” Alyson replied, and laid her hand on Sarah’s knee. “You couldn’t have known. It’s not a big deal.”
Sarah’s leg felt like it was on fire and her stomach was full of butterflies. She had never reacted like this to another woman’s touch in her life.
No, wait, if she really thought about it, that actually wasn’t true.There was a girl in her maths class in Year 10 that she couldn’t help staring at and they bumped into each other in the hall one day. That had made her flustered, just like this. And then there was that one random girl at a party in uni that she had kissed when she was really drunk.
Did she-? Did she have a little thing for women??
Alyson seemed to realise she was still touching Sarah and jerked her hand away with an apology.
“No, it’s fine,” Sarah said, then more quietly, “I don’t mind.”
At this, their eyes met and Sarah felt a crackle between them. Just then, the band on stage started warming up and Mary returned to her seat.
“Phew!” Mary exclaimed. “The line for the loo was miles long.” Mary seemed to realise that Sarah had been talking to the woman sitting next to her and tilted her head in question.
“Mary, this is Alyson,” Sarah said, gesturing to the woman. “Alyson, this is my best friend, Mary.”
“Hello, nice to meet you,” Mary said, friendly as always. She reached across Sarah to shake hands.
“Thanks, it’s been lovely to meet Sarah,” Alyson replied, “and now you.”
“Looks like they’re about to start,” Mary commented. “Do you want to stay up here for this set and rest our aching, ageing bodies?”
All three women laughed and decided to stay. They couldn’t really talk while the band was playing very loud punk music, but Sarah noticed Alyson’s knee brushing against her own a few times. Her breath caught every single time. When they touched, Sarah didn't move away.
Mary leaned over to talk into Sarah’s ear towards the end of the set. Sarah passed on the message to Alyson, noticing the light, floral scent of her perfume, now that she was so close.
“Mary suggested we head down now and get our spot for Bikini Kill, since they’re up next,” she relayed.
Alyson nodded and Sarah signalled to Mary with a thumbs up. They got up and made their way downstairs in a line. When they got to the hallway outside of the concert space, Sarah leaned in to Alyson again.
“Won’t your friend be missing you?” she asked. “The man you were talking to in the queue outside?”
Alyson shook her head. “No, he’s just a friend from work and ran into some other people he knows. I’m free to stay with you. I mean, if that’s OK with you. I don't want to impose.” The woman seemed to consider she might be encroaching on Sarah’s evening with her friend.
“No, I’d love it if you stayed with us,” Sarah said with a smile, then bravely took Alyson’s hand and led her into the pit, following behind Mary.
Now that they had their spot, Mary asked if either of the other ladies wanted a drink and offered to brave the line again to get them. Then Sarah and Alyson were alone (in a large room full of a lot of people). Sarah just gazed at Alyson’s beautiful green eyes, and Alyson eyed her back.
“I hope this isn’t totally presumptuous,” Alyson said, as she leaned in close, giving Sarah goosebumps, “But could I…could I kiss you?”
Sarah inhaled sharply. Alyson was undoubtedly beautiful and there was definite attraction there, but did she actually want that? Alyson was watching her patiently. Sarah glanced over at the bar. Mary was talking animatedly with someone next to her.
“Yeah,” Sarah eventually breathed out.
Alyson leaned in slowly, but stopped and waited for Sarah to close the gap. When their lips met, Sarah could swear there were little sparks lighting up all over her skin. Alyson’s lips were soft and warm and moved slowly against hers. After two quick connections, Alyson pulled back to check in with Sarah.
“You okay?” she asked quietly. It felt like they were alone in the room.
“Yeah,” Sarah repeated, then leaned back in. This kiss was more, just more. More firm, more movement, more passion. Sarah could feel fizzing running from her lips out through her body. Alyson reached up and gently cupped Sarah’s face, improving the angle a bit, and Sarah grasped her waist.
Suddenly, a loud drum and crash of cymbals rang out in the large room and the women sprang apart.
“Wow,” Alyson breathed out. “That was quite a kiss.”
Sarah was blushing like a schoolgirl. “Yes, it was,” she said, then her face lit up with a smile. “Best kiss I’ve had in years,” she said, then giggled. Actually giggled.
Alyson smiled at Sarah, her eyes sparkling with mirth and fondness. She leaned in to speak in Sarah’s ear, as the noise level was ratcheting up again. Alyson's warm breath on the skin of her neck brought the goosebumps back.
“I wouldn’t mind doing that again, but it looks like Bikini Kill is about to start,” lifting her chin to indicate behind Sarah’s back.
Sarah turned and the crew members were putting the final touches on the setup while the drummer made a couple of adjustments to his kit. Just then Mary returned, three drinks in a triangle between her hands.
“I think I managed not to spill any!” Mary said brightly, distributing the drinks.
“Ta, Mare,” Sarah said, gratefully taking a long pull from the cool drink. She felt overheated, in the best way. She made eye contact with Alyson over the rim of her drink and this time, there was no doubt that the woman winked at her.
A loud cheer went up from the crowd when the band members came out on stage. After that, it was just an hour of loud, boisterous music and a jumping, writhing crowd of people singing the lyrics back, fists pumping in the air. In the course of the set, Alyson migrated to just behind Sarah’s left side and at some point snaked an arm around her waist. Sarah looked over to see if Mary noticed, but she was too entranced with the music. Sarah just turned to Alyson and smiled happily.
By the time the last note of Bikini Kill’s last song rang out and the crowd went absolutely wild, Sarah was hot, sweaty and tired. This was a lot more exercise than she was used to and it was way past her normal bedtime. The three women slowly made their way from the big room to the hallway and out the exit doors, snagging a few cups of water on their way past the trolley.
The cool spring air felt incredible against Sarah’s flushed skin and she took in huge gulps of fresh air. Crowds didn’t really bother her, but it always felt amazing when you got out of one.
“That. Was. Amazing.” Mary declared, hugging Sarah. “I’m so glad we did this!”
“Me too!” Sarah agreed. “Best night out I could have asked for.” She sneaked a coy look at Alyson. “Talk about nostalgia! Bikini Kill was just as great as I remember.”
“They’ve definitely still got it!” Mary exclaimed. “Fuck me, I’m tired.”
“Same,” Sarah replied. “I haven’t expended this much energy or stayed up this late in ages.”
“Does that mean you’re not up for getting a drink somewhere?” Alyson asked, sounding a bit disappointed.
“Not tonight, I’m sorry,” Sarah said and she meant it. “We still have an hour-long train ride to Kent before we can call it a night.”
The two women just gazed at each other, neither sure where to go from here.
“Do you live here in London?” Sarah asked, hoping the answer was no.
“No, I live a bit south of the city,” the woman replied. “About a half hour.”
At this, they shared a satisfied smile.
“Would you mind if I got your number?” Alyson asked. “I’ve had such a great time with you.” She added quickly “With both of you. It’s always nice to meet a new…friend.”
“That would be great,” Sarah answered happily.
Alyson pulled out her phone and handed it to Sarah with a blank contact open. “Add your number and I’ll send you a text, so you’ll have mine.”
Once numbers were exchanged, and the text was sent, Alyson said, “I wish I was heading to the train station with you, but I’m staying with a friend here in London tonight.”
Sarah was a little disappointed, but maybe it was for the best. She had no idea what this evening with Alyson meant, and she didn’t really want to figure that out on the fly with her best friend in tow. Now that they had each other’s numbers, there would be more opportunity to explore later.
“I hope we’ll be in touch soon,” Sarah said hopefully, reaching out her arms in an invitation for a hug. Alyson accepted immediately.
“I’m really happy I met you,” Alyson whispered into the ear on the other side of Mary as they hugged, and gently kissed Sarah’s neck as they parted.
“I’m glad I met you, too,” Sarah earnestly replied.
“It was great meeting you!” Mary said brightly. Her best friend always had enough energy for two people, even after their long night.
“Take care and travel safely,” Alyson added, just before turning and walking in the opposite direction of the taxi stand.
Just before Sarah got in the taxi, she looked down the street and found that Alyson was looking back at her as well. Alyson blew her a kiss, so Sarah waved back awkwardly, then looked down quickly before Mary caught her expression.
Sarah was dead on her feet by the time she got home, but couldn’t stand the thought of going to bed all sweaty. She took a nice, hot shower and let the warmth seep into her tired muscles. She was practically falling asleep standing up by the time she got out and prepared for bed.
The next morning, almost afternoon, she woke up sore but felt a buzz go through her when she saw the new text in her inbox.
Alyson Hartely: good morning beautiful ♥️