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Eventually, things settle. Kitty has a list of names, and half a mind to use them. But she also, in some way that she does not understand and has never had before, has something like a family. Rehearsals continue to be on Tuesdays and Thursdays. She wears Beth’s dressing gown and Beth complains about the smoke that lingers on the cuffs, but she doesn’t stop her. She spends most of her weekends and some of her week nights down at The Duke, serving people instead of making a mess. She puts down something like roots, in this place that she’s often thought has nothing to give her. In this world that she thought could never be hers.
The band gives her purpose, and her shifts at the pub give her consistency, and Beth gives her, well. Beth gives her safety and stability and love. Endless amounts of trust and inherent belief that she is worth something, worth wanting around. And Beth doesn’t ask her for anything, doesn’t ask for anything but herself and for Kitty to take a little more care, to be a little less reckless with her own life. They’re things no one has ever asked of her before, and in some ways, some nights, it can feel harder than anything than any of the dog shit people who came before have ever wanted from her. She tries her best, regardless, she tries her best like she never has for anyone. Like she only ever would for Beth.
She doesn’t tell Beth about the names, because she knows what she would say. She would urge her to tell the Police, would try to keep Kitty far away from these men and from any quests of vengeance. She would ask why her father gave her the names now, and not when she went to see him, would ask what he gains, would ask what world and what schemes Kitty would be getting herself involved in. It’s a dream she can’t quite shake, a yearning for an ending where she comes out on top, like she so rarely has done over the course of her life.
And every time she hears Beth’s sensible voice in her head, she thinks about everything she stands to lose if she fucks this up. She didn’t mind being inside, not really, not before. Three square meals a day and plenty of cigarettes, set routines and knowing exactly what’s expected of her. She was tough enough to survive it, and what did she really lose? What did she have on the outside, then? But now? Now, when she has Beth and the band and tentative dinners with Tom, who is much kinder and more attentive to his mother than he has been for a long time, and she lets herself feel proud of that (maybe he always needed both of them, maybe they always needed each other).
It’s the first time she’s ever had a life she doesn’t want to escape from, even if sometimes she feels as though she could scream. Sometimes all this trust weighs on her a little heavily, and she wants to run. But she remembers Beth’s hand on her arm, and Holly’s help even as she had been so uncertain of her, and Jess giving her a chance, and then letting her come back. Even Yvonne, who had never been warm to her and had still been glad to see her back with them regardless, and she knew it was for more than the band, even if neither of them would ever say it. She belongs, and it chafes and itches and soothes, all at once.
Even her shifts at The Duke are fun, sometimes, even as Jess despairs at her inability to be friendly to anybody, even the regulars. £12.50 an hour isn’t terrible but it’s not enough for her to treat every wanker that crosses her path like they’re royalty. That’s what she says to Miranda, anyway, when Jess is out of earshot. Miranda, wisely, stays out of it. But she likes Inez, most of the time, and Chloe can be a little annoying but she’s usually distracted with everyone else, anyway. Her feet hurt, and so does her back and her knees, but she gets away with hijacking the pub Spotify often enough. She’s happy to work the close, let the others get on with dealing with the kids and getting up in the morning, even if it means she doesn’t see Beth when she gets in.
On late nights she drives home, Beth’s lyrics spinning in her head, and taps on the steering wheel and feels her tired brain working overtime. There is dinner on the side, or in the fridge, and she hums as she eats stood up by the counter in a way Beth would scold her for if she was there. She likes the pub the most for the space it gives her brain, for the things that circulate in the back of it while she’s busy trying to count change. She works a little on whatever song they’ve been fooling around with, headphones on and trying to be quiet, until she can barely stay awake and then she tiptoes upstairs to sleep that is almost restful, now she’s got HRT and safety.
Holly keeps her mouth shut about her dad, and the list, and she’s thankful, even as it’s hard to keep it quiet. She’s paralysed by indecision, and her need to not fuck anything up. They have gigs lined up, they’re good, she’s busy. They have songs to write, and she’s trying to get better at the guitar and the keyboard, and Holly’s too busy with Jack the Rimmer to have time to go shouting about things Kitty’s avoiding, anyway. She still calls him that, just to see Holly splutter and argue that they have perfectly lovely “normal” sex, thank you so much.
“Do the dating apps work, then?” Beth asks Holly after practise, after she’s been caught smiling at her phone for the third time.
“Well, I will admit that there’s plenty of weirdos out there,” she pauses, shrugs. “But not every man in a 15 mile radius can be awful, surely?”
“I found my last boyfriend on a dating app,” Kam pipes up, cheerful as ever.
“And he was normal?”
“Very into his fantasy football league,” she says, and pauses.
“He was a weirdo,” Nisha cuts in, and Kam shrugs.
“I thought he was mostly nice!”
“You’re the one that broke up with him!” Nisha retorts, and Kam laughs. “I keep trying to convince her to try women, but she won’t listen to me.”
“I keep trying that on Beth, she won’t be swayed,” Kitty winks at Beth, who rolls her eyes and pretends like she doesn’t blush a little. She doesn’t see the way that Holly and Yvonne’s gazes meet silently, something communicated between them.
“Are you thinking about it, then? Trying to find a new man?” Yvonne asks, and they don’t know her well enough to know that she’s leading her somewhere, just a little.
“I think you should try it out,” Holly jumps in before she can reply, and no one notices the way that Kitty frowns. Or they do, and they ignore it.
“Oh we can help you with your profile!” Kam says, immediately excited.
“I’m not sure-“ Beth starts, but everyone is joining in now, laughing and talking over each other.
“Okay, okay, maybe we’re getting a little ahead of ourselves-“ Kitty tries, and she’s not sure if she’s trying to save Beth or save herself. Beth smiles at her gratefully nonetheless, and she’s helpless to the smile she gives in return.
“Look, even if I was to give the apps a go, it would not be for the band’s entertainment,” she says, almost stern. The excitement dissipates a little, but some of the smiles remain, and Kitty’s not sure she likes those. It feels as though something may be afoot.
———
Beth comes to her, in the end, for help. She has to stop her from using her teaching headshot on her profile, and that leads to an afternoon of Kitty trying to take candid photos of her in the fields around the house. Trying is very much a the operative word, because they spend most of it in gales of laughter, and upon review every photo is blurry or Beth looks so cripplingly self conscious it’s no wonder she has very few photos that would be appropriate.
It’s fun, in the same way that all her afternoons with Beth are fun, and she ignores the spectre in the room. She doesn’t want anything to change. She doesn’t want something to challenge everything that they currently have, especially when Beth seems so happy, it feels as though maybe she shouldn’t need it. Kitty’s barely thought about anyone else since she found her and Tom. It’s unfair for her to expect the same from Beth, who of course deserves to have someone to love her in every way. Who obviously deserves someone better than Kitty, even if she would hate to hear her say that.
They find some photos from a couple of different gigs, some group shots from rehearsals and in the Duke.
“Well I’d swipe right,” Kitty says, winking, handing her phone back. “You need help surveying potential mates?”
“No, I think I’ve got this part covered by myself, thank you very much.”
Beth maybe spends a little more time on her phone, after that. Otherwise, she doesn’t seem to talk about it any further. Kitty doesn’t want to ask, doesn’t want to invite change into this life that she has started to love.
“Where would you go on a first date?” Beth eventually asks, when Kitty has finally mostly forgotten about dating app shenanigans.
“You finally taking me up on my offer?”
“No, seriously,” Beth says, something nervous twisting in her posture.
“I dunno, I’m not really one for dating,” she pauses, thinks. “What are they like?”
“He’s around my age, a lecturer, maybe a little serious.”
“Shouldn’t he be taking you out?” she asks, and doesn’t question her immediate urge to criticise a man she knows nothing about.
“It is 2025, Kitty,” Beth replies, and Kitty nods, taps on the table a little. Her knee bounces and she ignores it.
“What about Inez’s little wine bar? A little low lighting, and all that.”
Beth nods. “Not a bad idea.”
“Has he asked?” she ignores the way her insides twist, just as she ignores the parts of her that don’t want this, don’t want the intrusion into their bubble. It’s one night. She might not even like him.
“Not yet, but I think he will.”
“He’d be stupid not to,” she says, and her eyes go soft and she shows too much. Beth doesn’t appear to notice, or doesn’t know how to translate. “Show me a picture, then.”
And he looks nice. Normal. Too boring for Beth, but she doesn’t know if there’s anyone in the world that’s good enough for her. She certainly isn’t.
“Any weird hobbies?”
“He’s not a cyclist and doesn’t run marathons, so I’ll take my chances.”
The date happens to be on a night where Kitty has a shift, so Beth drives them both into town. Kitty had tried to get her to tart it up a little, but all she’d agreed to was disposing of the cardigan and wearing a bit of eyeliner. The nose ring had been a no go, because Beth had been worried he’s a little too conservative for all that.
“Good luck, knock him dead.” Kitty grins, and Beth passes her the keys. “Don’t do anything I wouldn’t do.”
“It’s a first date,” Beth scoffs.
“You might fall in love instantly, who knows,” she continues, and Beth rolls her eyes.
“Have a good shift, say hi to Jess and Miranda for me,” and she draws her into a hug that’s longer than it needs to be, but their hugs always are. And Kitty can tell she’s a little bit nervous, so she smooths her palm down her spine and feels Beth relax into her a little.
“If he doesn’t like you he’s a twat,” she says, pitched low, mouth close to Beth’s ear.
“I’m more worried it’ll be a dreadful waste of time,” Beth says, but she’s smiling as she pulls away.
“Come to the pub, after. You can distract me from a quiet board game night and I’ll drive us both home.”
--------
It’s hard to concentrate, and she’s glad that she can pull a pint without much thought. She fucks up giving people their change three times before Jess notices, and by then her thoughts are whirling at such a fast pace she thinks everyone can see it on her face.
“All right, I think it might be break time. Come on, I’ll make you a cup of tea.”
“I’ve only been here an hour-” Kitty tries to argue, but Jess is shaking her head, steering her towards upstairs gently but firmly.
“Okay, what’s wrong with you?” She asks, filling up the kettle just for something to do with her hands. Kitty is easier, often, when she’s not being looked at directly.
“There’s not anything wrong,” she says, and scrubs a hand across her eyes. Checks her phone to see if she’s had anything from Beth - she hasn’t.
“Something is distracting you, then,” Jess says, and she shrugs, uncomfortable. The kettle boils loudly, and they let that fill this lived in space. It’s warm, and bright, and so deeply lived in. It makes Kitty think of Beth’s living room, makes her think of losing that.
“Beth’s got a date,” she says, halting, not knowing where to start. “Don’t say anything, she didn’t want the band to take the piss.”
“Well, that’s good, isn’t it?” Jess looks at her, brow furrowed. “Or it’s not, I suppose.”
“No, I mean, it is good, I’m glad for her, I hope it goes well,” her words come out in a rush, stumbling over each other.
“You don’t want anything to change,” Jess says, like a realisation, like she can see right through her.
“No, I mean, everything’s going so well, with the band, and finally we’re making progress with Tom, I just don’t know if things will be the same if there’s someone else in the mix.”
Miranda comes up the stairs, probably to see where all of the staff have gone, phone in hand.
“Inez has just texted me to tell me that Beth’s in her bar with a man,” she says, when she sees Jess through the doorway, and then sees Kitty sitting at the table as she rounds the corner.
“Yes, we were just discussing that,” Kitty mumbles into her hands, and Miranda sighs.
“Why don’t you just tell her that you’re in love with her?” she asks, and Kitty blushes like she hasn’t since she was a girl.
“That’s not-” she mumbles, but Jess is staring at her like suddenly everything makes sense, and Miranda puts a comforting hand on her shoulder. “It’s not like - like I love her and being her friend and I’m just happy to have her in my life-” she rambles, and Jess sighs.
“Oh, love,” and her voice is so soft and a little sad that Kitty feels like she might cry. She’s still not used to this, to having people in her corner. Jess has been friends with Beth since school, barely knows Kitty, really, and she still does not immediately tell her to get away from her, that she isn’t good enough for her. A wry smile comes over her face. “So when I said Chloe is no more gay than you or me…”
“I wasn’t sure if I was the correct person to convince you that bisexuality is alive and well,” Kitty manages a smile of her own, and Jess laughs, turns to actually make the tea.
“You know Beth looks at you like you hung the moon, right?” Miranda says, and sits down next to her.
“She just sees Tom in me, it’s not-”
“She blushes every time you flirt with her, which is very obvious, by the way, she’s just oblivious.”
“I thought you were joking!” Jess says, not turning.
“I mean, I was, mostly. Sort of,” she shakes her head. “Beth has told me repeatedly that she’s straight.”
“I’ll believe it when she’s able to be at all normal about you,” Miranda says, and Kitty laughs, shaking her head.
“Don’t give me misguided hope. I just don’t want anything to change. I just want us to be able to write songs and stay in the band, and for everything to keep going as it has been.”
“But it could be better,” Miranda says, with all her youthful optimism, and Kitty shakes her head.
“I don’t know if either of us would survive it if we fell out again. The band certainly wouldn’t. It’s not worth the risk. And she deserves better than someone like me, anyway.”
“That’s bullshit, Kitty,” Jess says, setting down her tea with a little more force than necessary. “You make her happier than I’ve ever seen her. That’s clear even without thinking about, well, lesbian undertones.” Miranda glances at her in warning and she raises her hands, like what was I supposed to say.
Chloe chooses that moment to yell up the stairs; “Oi, are any of you losers actually working today?”
Kitty shakes herself, stands. “Better head back out there,” and she’s not sure if she’s running from the conversation or if she actually wants to be good at her job. She’s found herself trying at this one like she never has done before. She wants to be better, wants to be good.
Beth comes in not too long after, early enough she’s going to end up hanging about for a while if she waits until Kitty’s shift finishes.
“How was it?” Kitty asks, as soon as she’s done with the nerd she was serving.
“Fine, I think,” Beth says. “He’s intelligent. A little boring.”
“Sparks?” Kitty asks, and ignores the bittersweet pang.
“He wants there to be,” she allows. “It was nice, to have that sort of attention again.”
“Hey, you get that from me all the time,” Kitty protests, and Beth rolls her eyes. Her smile is a little wonky and indulgent anyway, and Kitty barely notices the way she leans over the bar in an attempt to crowd in closer.
“Kitty stop flirting and help me,” Chloe calls from the back where she’s wrestling with a barrel, and Kitty sighs.
“I should be able to wrangle a break in a bit, get Jess to make you a drink, she’s around here somewhere.”
When she re-emerges Beth is in the corner with Jess, a bottle of red on the table between them. She tries not to panic about what Jess could be saying, about what she knows, and when Beth looks up like she can feel her eyes on her she gets nothing more than Beth’s usual smile, her eyes softening. She smiles back, a little tremulous. Everything feels more real now that somebody knows. She turns to emptying the glass wash in an attempt to stop herself from staring.
“You can shove off early, love, drive Beth home,” Jess says, surveying the few quiet tables that are left.
“Are you sure?” she asks, and when she looks at Beth she’s already looking at the two of them. “You didn’t-”
“No, I didn’t say anything to her. That’s up to you, Kitty,” she squeezes her arm and nods towards her. “I do think you should speak to her, But I understand if you don’t feel ready to. She won’t hear it from us. Now go on, get gone with you.”
Kitty smiles, and rushes off into the back to retrieve her jacket and her bag.
“Jess is letting me go early, you ready to head?” she asks Beth, not sitting.
“What time is it?” She checks her watch and then stands. “God, 11pm on a school night,” she mutters, and Kitty laughs, bumping her shoulder with hers.
“I’m sure the kids will be very understanding that you had a hot date.”
“I fear you’re giving teenagers too much credit,” she smiles, and waves goodbye to Jess and Miranda.
It’s quiet in the car, Kitty driving and chewing on the inside of her lip. Beth had ended up finishing that bottle of wine with Jess, and she’s a little rosy cheeked.
“I don’t think I want to see him again,” she says, apropos of nothing.
“Considering how little you’ve had to say about him, that news doesn’t shock me,” Kitty replies, glib, and tries to stop the smile on her face. Beth turns a little in her seat to face her, and it feels unfair for a moment that she has to continue facing the road.
“He was perfectly pleasant,” she says, words a little loose in her mouth. “But it did, ultimately, feel a little like a waste of time.”
“You can always go on dates with me, instead,” Kitty teases and it feels a little like flying too close to the sun, now that someone knows. But this is just how she’s always talked to Beth, has always joked with her like this.
“I kept thinking about how much you would have hated it in there, how pretentious it was. How annoying you would have found him, with his life so firmly rooted in academia and little knowledge outside of it.” Beth says, and it doesn’t even fall out of her mouth as a confession.
“So you don’t want to see him again because you think I wouldn’t like him?” she asks, slow, considered, like she rarely manages to be.
“It just seems that there’s little point, with how deeply entrenched we are in each other’s lives. We have a child together, in some ways,” she laughs a little, like it’s a strange thought, but Kitty no longer thinks that is strange, Kitty has only ever felt like it is right. They’re both Tom’s mums. They made him together, in some ways. She sees Beth in him every time he sees him.
“Didn’t even need to go through IVF to have a kid together,” Kitty mumbles, and then she clears her throat. “It doesn’t need to necessarily be a serious thing right away, with him, though.”
“I know that, but I don’t know if that’s something I want to spend my evenings on,” she smiles at Kitty, easy and content. “I’d much rather spend my time with you, if I’m honest.”
“I was serious about the dates,” she says, and smiles when Beth laughs. “Honest, I’ll take you out somewhere nice. Might even wear my one blazer for it.”
“I do wish you’d let me buy you a new one before your court date, you know. Leopard print does not count as formal wear.”
“You can buy me a blazer if you let me take you out somewhere I can wear it,” she says, and chances a quick look at her. She looks happy, earnest. She looks like she still doesn’t hear the truth of what Kitty says. In a lot of ways that’s fine, so long as she keeps looking at her like that.
“What if we just stay in, and keep on doing what we’re best at?”
“Kicking ass and taking names?” Kitty offers, and she knows her smile is too wide, her expression a little silly. She can’t help herself.
“Writing songs, you dummy.”
“Well, that I will cheerfully continue doing with you, for as long as you’ll have me,” Kitty’s smile widens into a grin, and she keeps looking at the road, like that means Beth can’t see it. They’re almost home, and then everything can go back to the way it’s been for the last few months, and Kitty can continue being the happiest she’s been in such a long time.
“You’re part of the family now, Kitty. You’ll never be rid of me,” her voice warm in the quiet dark of the car, smile as irresistible as it always is.
“Part of the family,” Kitty echoes, something like awe edging along the sides of her voice, turning into the lane that leads to Beth’s house, to their house easily, muscle memory taking over. She glances over at Beth again, something cheeky hovering around the side of her mouth. “That your way of proposing?”
“Oh stop it,” Beth says, practically giggling, slapping Kitty’s arm.
“Bet what’s his name couldn’t make you laugh like that,” she says as she turns off the engine, halfway out the car before Beth’s even undone her seatbelt.
“Stop terrorising me, I have to go to bed,” Beth manages, still laughing a little, following Kitty into the house and setting her bag down on the table. Kitty pours a glass of water and hands it over, and Beth looks a little confused but drinks half of it, anyway.
“To counteract the wine,” she says, not needing the explanation to be asked for. “Did you eat?”
“Yes, I ate,” Beth mutters, a little irritated. She’s used to caring for people. She’s not very good at it the other way, not always.
“I’m sure I got some emergency crisps in,” she murmurs, rifling through the cupboards anyway.
“No, you ate them after rehearsals on Tuesday and we haven’t been shopping yet, remember,” Beth says, and when Kitty turns around she’s finishing her water and moving back to the tap. “I’m going to bed, anyway, to make the most of the six hours I’m going to get.”
“Well, good night,” Kitty manages, and is glad for the smile she gets.
“Sleep well, Kitty,” she murmurs, and runs her hand down her arm on her way out of the kitchen. Kitty ignores the way that she feels all too aware of her skin in the moments after.
--------
Kitty feels tense at their next rehearsal in a way she doesn’t need to, not really. She can trust Miranda and Jess, she knows that. It just feels more real, to have eyes on her when she looks at Beth and to have them know what it all means. To have them know what she feels.
They go for a drink, after, as they usually do. Jess brings a couple of bottles of wine and doesn’t let them pay. She wonders how on earth she pays everyone a living wage and also gives out free drinks, but her business model is really none of Kitty’s business.
“I heard you had a date this week,” Holly starts, leaning over the table to leer at Beth, who rolls her eyes.
“Yes, that is correct,” she says, and Kitty tries not to shrink in her seat. Miranda and Jess look at her. So does Yvonne, for some reason.
“Oh, is he cute?” Kam asks, excited, and Beth shrugs.
“It was a singular date, I don’t think I’m going to see him again.” Beth’s tone is flat, like she doesn’t want to talk about it. The band obviously ignores this.
“Why not?” Yvonne cuts in. Holly’s eyes dart to Kitty, and she frowns.
“It just didn’t feel like a good use of my evening,” she says, and everyone looks at her for a moment.
“What do you mean?” Kam asks.
“I’m just very happy with things how they are, at present.”
“But surely you miss men?” Yvonne asks, and Beth shrugs.
“I’m not sure they’re all that they’re cracked up to be, if I’m honest. I’ve got the band, and Kitty, and Tom, and I’m happier than I’ve been in a long time,” she responds, like the matter is closed. Kitty tries not to light up at the mention of her name in that sentence. By the way Yvonne looks at her she’s not sure she’s successful.
“Well, you could just date Kitty, I suppose,” Kam says, and Kitty almost spits wine across the table. It’s an innocent suggestion, and Beth is the only person who laughs. Nisha widens her eyes at Kam like she’s trying to get her to shut up. “What? They basically already had a kid together!”
“I’ve been reassured she’s tragically straight,” Kitty butts in, attempting to close the conversation before it really begins.
“Sexuality is fluid!” Kam replies, still smiling. “I sure wouldn’t kick Angelina Jolie out of bed.”
“I’m flattered you would put me in the same boat as Angelina Jolie,” Kitty starts, and Beth shakes her head, puts her hand on Kitty’s arm to stop her.
“Are you saying that you identify as straight and yet would still consider a relationship with a woman?” It’s a more serious question than Kitty was expecting, and she knows she looks a little panicked when she makes eye contact with Miranda.
“Well, plenty of women end up with women when they don’t expect it,” Miranda puts in, and Kitty’s not sure if she’s helping or hindering her. “Some of them have been closeted for a long time, but some of them simply just meet a woman that they end up being in love with, even when historically they’ve only ever been with men.”
“But surely they’d know, if that was something they were interested in pursuing?”
“Not always,” Miranda says, and her smile is soft, and comforting. Kitty feels like she’s going to throw up. She drinks her wine faster than she usually would, wanting some kind of escape. She wants to go for a smoke, but Beth’s hand is still on her arm.
“I always knew,” Nisha adds. “But my girlfriend didn’t, until she met someone when she was about 25. I think it was a shock for her, when that happened, because she hadn’t previously ever considered it.”
“I mean everyone thinks women are pretty-” Holly cuts in, and Kitty almost laughs.
“Have you ever really thought about it?” Nisha challenges, a bit of an edge to her voice. There’s an undertone there that Kitty doesn’t understand. “I’m sure you’ve kissed your mates while you’re drunk?”
“Well, of course,” Holly says. “But it was only ever a bit of a lark.”
“You didn’t ever have that one friend that you were making up excuses to get drunk with?” Nisha’s eyes are a little hot, a muscle in her jaw jumps. Holly looks a little surprised, a little lost. Beth doesn’t seem to be faring much better, her gaze a little far away. Kitty wants to know what she’s thinking about.
“That doesn’t mean-” Holly says, but Nisha just shrugs.
“Maybe not. Or maybe it means you liked her and didn’t realise. I suppose it’s too late now to find out.”
Kitty wonders what kind of history they have, how long they were partners for. If there were nights out that maybe they never talked about again.
“What about you, Kitty?” Yvonne cuts in, and she almost startles. Beth’s hand tightens on her arm for a moment, and then pulls away.
“What about me?” she asks, and leans back like she doesn’t care. All bravado, all her heart beating out of her chest.
“Do you think sexuality is,” she waves her hand in a way that comes across a little offensive. “Fluid?”
“I’ve never really thought it mattered all that much,” she shrugs. “People like who they like, don’t they?”
“And who do you like?” Yvonne needles, and Kitty shrugs again.
“I’ve never been all that picky. I believe the term would be bisexuality, if we’re being technical.”
“You’ve never said,” Beth murmurs, and Kitty feels herself drawn out of conversation with the wider table just by Beth’s tone, by her face. She looks surprised, confused. It’s a night of surprises, she supposes.
“Didn’t think I needed to announce it,” she murmurs back, and conversation picks up around them, Nisha hissing something across the table to Holly. “I wasn’t keeping it a secret or anything, just seemed a bit irrelevant. And I did spend half an hour talking about how obsessed with Courtney Love I was as a teen like last week.”
“I thought you meant musically,” Beth says, a cute little frown creasing between her eyebrows.
“I mean, that too. But not just that.”
“But then-” she cuts herself off, frown deepening into something that Kitty doesn’t like. She knocks back her wine and pushes away from the table.
“I’m gonna go for a smoke, be back in a minute,” and she runs away. She lets herself run away, because she can face it later, can come back and face whatever further questions Beth has.
It’s Holly that joins her outside, oddly.
“You got a spare one of those?” she asks, and Kitty raises her eyebrow.
“Didn’t think you smoked,” but she passes the pack and the lighter over anyway. “Nisha chased you out here, did she?”
“Oh, don’t,” she lights up and doesn’t quite cough, but Kitty sees the way her throat works like she wants to. “She’s still angry at me about the Rudy thing, and it’s just-”
“That does not sound like it has anything to do with the Rudy thing, babe,” Kitty interjects, and Holly glares at her.
“Well, what about you? Never even bothering to come out to Beth, honestly.”
“It wasn’t relevant!”
“You’ve been hitting on her constantly ever since you two met, I think it was probably a tiny bit pertinent.”
“I flirt with you, too, sometimes, never bothered with an announcement about that, did I?”
“Yes, but that’s you being annoying, you’re not in love with me.” Holly rolls her eyes, and Kitty’s hackles rise. Miranda had known, too. Is she really so fucking obvious?
“You are hot though,” she says, mostly for redirection purposes.
“God, be less annoying,” Holly replies, smoking like she’s trying to be done with this entire situation.
“Why don’t you just go home? If everyone’s annoying you?”
“Because I have to see you all on Thursday anyway.”
“Fair point,” she concedes, and flicks her cigarette butt into the street.
“Why are you out here telling me I’m hot instead of being in there and admitting to Beth that you want to jump her bones and then bring her breakfast in the morning?”
“First of all, I don’t believe I would be the one bringing her breakfast in that scenario,” Kitty says, and that’s all bravado too. She would, if Beth would let her. Holly looks at her like she knows. “And second of all, is this why you and Yvonne have been being so fucking annoying recently?”
“We thought if Beth went on a date either you would get so jealous you would finally reveal that you were in love with her, or she would figure out why she’s been acting like you’re the second coming of Jesus. It appears to have not gone to plan,” she admits, something sheepish in her expression.
“Was anyone else in on this?” Kitty’s eyes narrow, and she regrets giving her one of her cigarettes for a moment.
“No, no, just me and Yvonne. Although I fear the entire band might know just from whatever is going on with the facial expressions on you two, my God.”
“Jess and Miranda know, too,” she admits, biting her lip.
“Nisha probably does, just from your performance just now.”
“And what about your performance, just now? We gonna talk about that, or what?”
“I didn’t do anything,” Holly argues, and Kitty scoffs.
“Sure, pal, you continue believing that,” she sighs. “Come on, we should go back in before they send out a search party.”
She slides back into her seat next to Beth quietly, the talk amongst the band having moved on, and her glass refilled while she was gone. She takes a grateful sip and lets her hand settle on Beth’s shoulder for a second. Beth smiles and relaxes into the touch, and she’s immensely grateful that this hasn’t conjured the end for them, that she doesn’t feel uncomfortable with her.
“Don’t think you’ve gotten off that lightly,” Beth murmurs, face too close to hers, jostled close around the small table.
“I would never,” she whispers back, and nudges her with her elbow, still smiling.
It’s Beth’s turn to drive them home, keyboard nestled safely in the back, and Kitty lets herself get a little tipsy, nerves and her usual fear of the end pushing her towards doing something a little stupid. If her life’s about to end, she might as well blow it all up, something toxic and nagging in the back of her head says. She doesn’t give in, not all the way, but she does drink more than she usually does on a Tuesday after practice. More than she usually feels she needs to, with Beth.
She doesn’t break the silence, just twists her rings around her fingers and waits for whatever is about to come. She feels like she’s been taken into Beth’s office for a telling off, and can’t tell how she feels about that feeling.
“Did you really think it wasn’t relevant? Your bisexuality?” Beth asks, and her tone is all soft, like it is when she thinks Kitty’s about to startle.
“I don’t typically make a habit of coming out,” she admits. “I sort of just wait and see what happens. If there’s a girlfriend, then yeah, I tell people that. Otherwise it just sort of, doesn’t need to be said.”
There’s quiet for a moment, and Kitty looks at her quickly, just to gauge her facial expression. Even in shadow she can see that something soft around her eyes, even as that crease between her brows forms, like she’s trying to phrase something just right in her head.
“I’d like to know all of you, Kitty, if you’d let me,” is what she settles on eventually, and Kitty has to look away, scrubs a hand across her mouth and wills the tears away. Maybe she shouldn’t have had so much to drink. Maybe this would have affected her like this anyway.
“I’m trying,” she murmurs, barely audible over the sound of the road. “I’m trying to let you.”
Beth smiles, and reaches blindly for her hand, holds it for a long moment. “I know you are, darling.” There’s quiet for a long moment, and then she perks back up, voice louder, cheerier. “So what was all that about with Holly and Nisha?”
“I know, I tried to ask Holly and she wouldn’t fucking tell me anything!” they dissolve into laughter, and the serious moment passes.
———
Their next band practice it’s like nothing happened. They play better than they have the last few sessions, like they’ve got something to prove, or something to work out. The energy goes into the music, anyway. This is good, as they have a gig coming up. This is potentially bad, as it would be poor timing for a schism.
“You still seeing Jack the Rimmer?” Jess asks, during a break between songs.
“If you ever get bored of him I’m happy to fill in,” Kitty offers, and sticks her tongue out at Holly, who gives her the finger.
“Semi-regularly, yes. It’s not a serious thing.”
“Do you want it to be?” Nisha asks, voice carefully neutral, and Holly shrugs.
“Not really, I don’t think. He’s fun. That’s all I care for right now.”
Jess hoots in approval, and Kam says get it girl! Kitty looks at Nisha, and she doesn’t quite understand what’s going on there.
When she meets Beth’s eye she doesn’t get her usual smile in return, and she can’t help the frown that follows as Beth’s eyes skitter away. She looks almost angry, something tight around her mouth. She doesn’t understand what she’s done, and hates that she is so sensitive to it, to this tiny moment of rejection. It shakes her for the rest of practice, and by the time they’re finished she just wants to go home.
She loads the keyboard into the car with Miranda, frowning, and then she loiters outside smoking. By the time she goes in the only seat left is next to Holly, who offers her a glass of wine, but she shakes her head. She’s driving, and it’s not her car to fuck up.
“Why is Beth glaring at me?” Holly asks, glass over her mouth in case Beth can lip read. She’s pretty sure they teach that as part of the PGCE.
“I thought she was glaring at me. And hoped you would know why,” she murmurs back, heads close together, and maybe she imagines it but she thinks the staring might be worse, imagines she can feel the heat of it against the side of her face.
“Hang on, laugh at something I just said and grab my arm.”
“Why the fuck would I-“
“Just trust me, I’ve got a theory,” she says, and then smiles, something that Kitty thinks might be the closest thing she has to a teasing smile. She fakes a laugh, throws her head back and leans in, grabs Holly’s arm.
“Yep, okay, the glaring has intensified.”
“You two look very cozy over there,” Nisha intervenes, and Holly swears under her breath.
“Just trying to convince her she can do better than arse boy,” Kitty says, and slings an arm around her shoulders.
“With you?” Nisha replies, and she just about keeps the scoff out of her voice.
“Why not?” Kitty replies, and the challenge rises unexpectedly. It’s typical for her to be dismissed, and the old hurts rise with it. It doesn’t matter that Holly isn’t what she wants.
Nisha stumbles for a response, until Beth interjects. “I’m not sure mixing our personal lives with the band is a very good idea.” There’s something haughty, clipped, in her voice. It’s her teacher voice, Kitty realises, and she only uses it when she’s extremely mad or very uncomfortable.
“I think it’s a bit late for that, considering all of the family connections we’ve already got,” Yvonne says, and Kitty distantly wonders if she’s just on the side of chaos.
“Kitty, can I talk to you outside?” Beth asks, and Kitty nods, follows her meekly like she never would have as a teenager.
Beth rounds on her as soon as they exit, something fierce in her eyes she’s not used to seeing. “What are you doing, draping yourself over Holly like that?”
“Nothing, nothing I don’t usually do anyway.” Her eyes flick across Beth’s expression, trying to work out what this is, what she thinks is happening.
“Are you serious? Do you-“ she fumbles with a way to say it. “Do you want to fuck Holly?” There’s an anger in her tone that she’s never heard, like something has snapped. She’s pushed her to this, like Tom had at lunch, like she had, before, when she went back to Gavin.
“No, well, not really. I mean she is hot but like-“ she trails off as the ire in her expression darkens, and takes a deep breath.
“If your shenanigans endanger the band I will not-“
And that startles a laugh out of Kitty, because what does this have to do with the band. “Tell me what it really is,” she murmurs, trying to be brave in front of all this quivering unfocused anger.
“I don’t know what you-“
“Beth, why are you really upset? I tried to ask you out on a date last week and you entirely brushed it off. You always brush it off.” She doesn’t know what to do with her hands, wants to reach out for her but doesn’t know if she can handle being rebuffed.
“Well, you weren’t, I didn’t think,” Beth pauses, takes a deep breath. “I didn’t think you were serious. And then I realised, that as much as you flirt with me, and as much as maybe you could mean it, you flirt with Holly too. And maybe you meant that just as much.”
“Holly’s hot, but I don’t love her,” she says, and Beth is almost too busy bristling at the first to notice the last.
“I haven’t been able to stop thinking about it,” Beth admits. “That you could be serious.”
“I always meant it, babe,” and it’s the first time Kitty’s called her babe in a way that isn’t flippant, in a way that lingers. She lets herself reach out, then, fingers soft on her jaw. Beth sways forward like she can’t help herself, like they’re magnetised together, like they belong.
“I’ve been thinking about kissing you,” Beth admits, something like wonder in her voice.
Kitty grins, giddy. “Good thoughts? You wanna try ‘em out?”
Beth laughs, and her arm goes around her waist, palm warm in the small of her back. Her touch is hesitant, when her other hand settles on her neck. She’s gentle, like Kitty is something to be treasured, is something of value. She almost stops her then, tells her she deserves better, but she’s selfish, too, and she’s wanted this for too long.
Beth kisses her just as gently as she had touched her, and her breath all shudders out of her at once. Her arms tighten around her, bending down to get closer to her, hand sliding under her hair. She wants everything, everything Beth can possibly give her, and it’s Beth that pulls away, breathing loud in the space between them.
“I wasn’t expecting that,” she murmurs, eyes full of wonder as they scan across Kitty’s face, flick back down to her lips.
“I fear a foray into late in life lesbianism might be on the cards,” Kitty mutters back, and Beth laughs, something loud and giddy, something that contains layers and layers of feelings.
“Oh God, Tom is going to be so angry,” she says, but her smile doesn’t drop, and when Kitty drags her closer again she goes, smiling against her mouth.