Chapter Eight
July 2024
Men in jeans, trainers, and nothing else, moved back and forth between the van and the house, carrying boxes and furniture in before returning empty-handed to grab the next item.
They’d been a bloody godsend, Caz thought, picking up all of her stuff that morning before driving over to Grace’s flat and loading up her things, and now, in the blistering, early summer heat, they were shirts-off and flying back and forth from the van to the house, unloading it all.
Another thirty minutes and they’d be done.
Caz watched from the sidelines, already instructed to keep out of their way by Grace. She felt herself being watched and turned to find a small face at the window in the house next to theirs.
Blonde ringlets and a big toothless grin looked her way. She couldn’t have been any older than three, Caz guessed.
She waved.
So Caz waved back, just as the kid’s mother appeared and gave a shy wave herself, clearly feeling embarrassed her kid was stalking the new neighbours. Caz smiled at her, but then her attention was brought back to the van, and to Grace handing out cans of Coke and offering encouragement to the men, who clearly liked what they saw.
Frowning, Caz wandered over.
“Alright, babe, one of those for me?” Caz asked, already reaching for a can and smiling at Grace in a way that definitely registered a ‘hands fucking off’. One of the men nodded and held his palms up in defeat, but gave her a ‘well done, you’ kind of look.
“Uh, yep, one for you too, babe,” Grace said, trying not to laugh and playing along. “I’ll be upstairs making the bed up.”
“Great, gonna definitely need that later,” Caz called after her. And just to be sure she’d been clear with the guys, she said to them, “Got lucky there, didn’t I?”
They went back to the job at hand and Caz walked back to where she’d been standing, wondering why all that had pissed her off so much.
It was typical, she thought—pretty girl and they’re all like dogs in heat, sniffing around to see which one could mark their territory and pee on her first. “Not on my watch, mate,” she muttered to herself.
“Excuse me,” came a voice from behind; female, quiet, polite. Caz turned and found the new neighbour waving shyly at her again, this time outside and just over the fence. “Hi, I just wanted to welcome you to the neighbourhood. I’m Felicity. My Husband is Jeff. He’s not home yet—still at work,” Felicity explained. She looked down to her left and Caz followed her gaze to where the blonde toddler waddled around her legs. “This is Gertie.”
“Cool, I’m Caz and my—” she was about to say friend, but that would be very confusing, “my partner is inside. She’s called Grace.”
“Oh, lovely,” Felicity said with a slight rise in octave, clearly not expecting lesbians on her doorstep. Caz smiled. “I’ve always been very supportive of the LGBT…and all the other letters.” She blushed. “Sorry, I can’t always remember them.”
“It’s fine, you don’t have to. All we ask is to be treated kindly and with respect, like you would with any other neighbour. No special treatment.” Caz grinned. “Unless you want to, of course. I’m always open to a bribe with cake.”
Felicity laughed nervously, unsure whether Caz was being serious or not, Caz assumed.
“I’m just kidding. Seriously, we’re good people and we just want to live a nice, quiet life like everyone else.”
“I’m sure everybody will get along just fine. It’s a nice street and everyone is friendly—the kind of place to take your parcels in, you know?”
Caz nodded. She did know. She’d had old Mrs Firth’s parcel for three weeks before she found out through the grapevine, that poor old Mrs Firth had died. She still felt bad for not raising the alarm, but Mrs Firth often went away to her daughters and Caz had just assumed that was the case then, too.
“Well, that is great to hear,” Caz answered, shaking her thoughts away.
One of the guys whistled at her, waved, and shouted, “All done.”
She gave him the thumbs up. “I guess I’d best get on with unpacking. It was nice to meet you both.”
“Yes, same.” Felicity waved.
Grace flopped down onto the sofa, swung her feet up, and leaned against Caz, who’s own legs were lounging, outstretched on the longer part of the L-shaped sofa.
“I’m glad we kept your sofa and not mine,” she said, sliding her arm around Grace.
“Yeah, it’s bigger and comfier. We should set the TV up.”
“I think we should finish our tea and then go up and finish the beds so that when we can’t do anything else, we can just fall into them,” Caz said, her fingers subconsciously rubbing up and down Grace’s forearm. “And then I’ll do the TV, and if we’re still awake, we can watch a film or something.”
“Can you believe we own a home?” Grace asked, before adding, “Together.”
“Sure beats renting those flats we had.”
Grace turned slightly. “You don’t have any regrets, do you?”
“Not one.” Caz smiled. “I get to spend all my time with my favourite person.”
“Sometimes I worry you’re going to miss out on intimacy and want something different.”
Caz didn’t say anything.
She’d be a liar if she said she hadn’t thought about it, long term. There’d been a lot of times in her life when being single had filled long periods, but someone had always come along to break the monotony and she’d enjoyed whatever sexual element had been offered.
“Only, I was thinking—”
“Can ya stop thinking about my sex life? The entire point of this is that we’ve made a commitment to one another and that’s not going to change.”
Grace turned back and settled against her again. “I just wanted to check, that’s all.”
Caz kissed the top of her head. “I know, and I’m grateful you care so much about the doings in my pants.”
“Shut up and don’t make it creepy.” Grace laughed.
“It’s not me that’s obsessed with me getting some action.” Caz squeezed her. “What about you? You not missing dating men and getting some? Those guys today were interested.”
“Ha, ‘til you shooed them off.”
“I didn’t—okay, I did…only cos it was inappropriate.”
Grace craned her neck to look up at her again. “Is that the only reason?”
“No,” Caz said firmly, “…we have to make sure the neighbours don’t get suspicious we’re not a couple like they are.” She swallowed down the last of her tea. “Right—beds, then film?”
“Yeah, let’s do it.” Grace sat up and watched as Caz bounced up onto her feet. “We should put some pictures up too. Make it feel like ours.”
“Good plan. You can do that while I figure out the TV stuff.”
Caz ran off and up the stairs. At the top, she leaned over the banister. “You look tired. I can do the beds if you want. Order a pizza and put your feet up.”
“I’m okay.” Grace yawned. “Alright, I am tired, but I can make a bed.” She grinned up at her and wearily climbed the stairs.
“It’s been a long day,” Caz said, pulling her close once more, and this time holding tight. Grace’s arms slid around her waist.
“Are you sure you don’t want the bigger room?”
“I’m sure. You’ve got way more stuff than me,” Caz said, remembering how many cases and bags of clothes came up.
“But the baby’s room is—”
“And when the time comes, I’ll get up and deal with the baby. It’s not all on you to parent.”
Grace smiled. “I want you to have the bigger room.”
Caz held her palms up. “No point arguing with you on this, is there?”
“Nope,” Grace grinned, “this is why I’m marrying you and having kids and not with some dick from wherever.”
“Because I just do as I am told?” Caz chuckled.
Grace hugged her. “That…and you’re thoughtful, and decent, and the best partner for raising children.”
“We’re going to be the best parents ever.”