Chapter 24 M&S S.O.S #2
“I think the Spice Girls might be my guilty pleasure too,” Catherine said instead of admitting she had no idea who Florence’s Machine were. She still wasn’t cool enough to know what music normal people listened to.
“That and jigsaw puzzles, eh?”
“Oh, I don’t feel any guilt about the jigsaws. I’m not ashamed to say I love them; they help me unwind. Some people have books, but reading doesn’t help to hush my noisy thoughts, so I self-prescribed puzzles years ago…”
Catherine tailed off, suddenly aware of her inner Penny telling her to enthuse a little less about niche interests if she ever wanted to get laid again. Heat bloomed in her cheeks at that unhelpful thought, but Jules turned and fixed her with a kind smile.
“I, er, brought wine.” Catherine held up the two bottles. “I didn’t know what you liked or what you were cooking, so…”
“Ah, lovely. Thank you! I know it’s usually white with risotto, but do you fancy cracking the red?”
“Yeah, actually. Red would be…”
“Glasses are in there.” Jules gestured her wooden spoon at the cabinet next to the fridge. “Sorry, need to keep stirring, are you okay to—”
“Sure, no problem. I’ll pop the white in the fridge.
” Catherine released a soft laugh at the sight of the photo.
In hindsight, the woman was obviously Jules — with that unmistakable smile stretching across her face.
And Will was clearly gay — no straight man she’d ever met was as well groomed.
She didn’t know how she’d missed it before.
“Oh, and I brought some treats for Juniper, too. Does he like…” Catherine glanced at the packet, and read the name aloud, “Lick-e-Lix?”
“I don’t know about him, but I do.”
Confusion stalled Catherine for a moment. “You like cat treats?”
Jules threw her head back and laughed. “Sorry, I was being smutty.”
“Oh, right,” she said, turning the words over in her head until the penny dropped. Oh God! Laughter tittered from her too; partly through mortification, partly because Jules’s whooping belly-laughs were contagious.
Jules battled to catch her breath and swiped a tear from her cheek. “I’m so sorry, that was…” She waved a hand in apology, before clutching it around her middle. “Sorry, it’s Will… he’s a bad influence. He has my mind as filthy as his.”
“I’ll never look at cat food the same way again.”
“Juni loves Lick-e-Lix. You can give him some now if you want, his bowls are in the—”
“I know.” Catherine smiled and took a small dish from the cupboard. She squeezed out the creamy pink paste and popped it down for Juni, who sat by her feet chirping in anticipation.
“Yep, I was right.” Jules glanced over and giggled.
“What’s that?”
“I always suspected the traitorous little bastard would give me up in a heartbeat if food was involved.”
Catherine uncorked the wine and poured two generous glasses. She passed one to Jules and clinked it with her own before taking a sip.
Mmm, she’d chosen well.
“Can I help with anything else?”
“No, no. It’s nearly done. Why don’t you go through to the lounge and make yourself at home? I won’t be much longer.”
Catherine double-blinked when she entered the lounge. The chaos she’d seen a few days before had been composed, and with Jules’s possessions in place, the room had taken on a whole new personality — not a doily or knick-knack in sight.
Statement rugs cleverly zoned the space, and two large colourful canvases adorned the walls. Scatter cushions and a plush throw dressed the sofa, and an oversized three-wick candle flickered on the coffee table, perfuming the air with a pleasant zesty scent.
The bookcase she’d built now sat flush against the wall, the shelves lined with books. By the window, a small round dining table had been set for two and, judging by the statement tableware, Jules was used to entertaining. Still, Catherine’s chest squeezed at the effort Jules had gone to for her.
The only sign of Juniper’s existence was a tall, well-worn scratching post tucked in the corner with a bunch of sisal threads pulled loose.
Catherine eyed the doorway before reaching around to liberate the lace underwear from between her bum cheeks, where it seemed intent on riding.
She sipped her wine as she scanned the books on the shelves — chunky spines bore names of authors she didn’t recognise, shouldering up to the few she actually knew.
And there was an entire row of travel guides.
She tilted her head and eyed the names of cities she’d never even heard of before.
Where the hell is Tbilisi? Were these all the places Jules had already visited, or the places she dreamed of visiting?
Either way, Catherine suddenly felt small and humbled by Jules’s worldliness.
By comparison, her own life seemed like a tapestry woven from mundane threads.
She’d never really lived beyond this small town, where the decades had been swallowed helping other people to mend their broken lives and move on.
But she’d never really moved on herself, had she?
Christ, I’m being triggered by a bookcase.
She shook the negative thoughts from her head and turned to the glorious sight of Jules carrying two steaming dishes into the room. She’d taken off her apron, revealing a grey sweatshirt and form-fitting jeans.
“Grab a seat,” she said.
Jules set a dish in front of her, and Catherine’s mouth watered at the sight of the seared king oyster mushroom atop a bed of risotto and garnished with a pretty purple flower.
“I’ll just fetch my wine. And it looks like you need a top-up.”
Catherine glanced at her empty glass; in the midst of her bookshelf crisis, she’d gulped her wine too quickly. When Jules reappeared, Juniper wove between her elegant bare feet as she crossed the room.
“Wow, this looks incredible. Thank you.”
Jules beamed. “I love to cook, so it’s my pleasure.” She filled Catherine’s glass and topped up her own before setting the wine down between them. “Besides, I owe you.”
Catherine batted away the words and mirrored Jules as she unravelled the cutlery from the napkin and laid it out on her lap.
“Bon profit.” Jules’s smile accentuated the crinkles at the corners of her warm eyes.
“Mmm,” Catherine moaned. “This is delicious.”
The rich, meaty mushroom paired perfectly with the creamy risotto.
It looked and tasted like fancy restaurant-quality food, and not something Catherine would ever be capable of producing herself.
Not that she’d tried — going to all this effort for one carried little appeal, so over the years she’d slumped into an easy routine of simple dishes and microwave meals.
Silence stretched awkwardly between them as they ate. Catherine grappled for something to say before landing on, “It’s been quite the transformation in here since my last visit. I thought I’d taken a wrong turn when I walked into the room.”
“Hmm.” Jules finished her mouthful. “Yeah, it was a big help to have Will here for a couple of days. He has a flair for interior design! Although he wouldn’t know how to build flatpack, even if the instructions slapped him around the face.”
Catherine laughed.
“Thank goodness you showed yourself to be more than capable; otherwise, my books would still be in boxes.” Jules picked up her glass and tipped it Catherine’s way before taking a long sip.
“I was looking at your books, actually. Your travel guides, are they all places you’ve been, or…?”
“And with one brief look around, she uncovers another of my guilty pleasures — buying travel guides!” Jules laughed.
“No, outside of the airports, I haven’t been to even half of those places.
But I always made a point of picking up a guide for the cities I liked the sound of, I guess as a prompt to go back one day and explore. ”
“Sounds like a lovely idea. And I suppose even more appealing now that you’re not flying here, there, and everywhere for work.”
Jules licked her tongue around her teeth. “Exactly.”
“And that makes me feel a little less unworldly, too.”
“I’m sure you’re worldly in other ways.” A small grin lifted Jules’s red lips, and Catherine had to look away as it would be indecent to stare at her mouth for much longer than she already had. It was a very lovely mouth.
“So… I have a confession to make.” Jules left the intriguing statement hanging as she chased another forkful of food with a sip of wine.
Catherine swallowed, taking the bait. “Go on.”
“I knew who you were.”
“Sorry?”
“I thought it was you when I saw you at the tapas place. Then when I checked, I realised I was right; it was you.” Jules took a breath and continued.
“It’s why I was a bit tongue-tied when I bumped into you at Snoots.
I wanted to say something, but I realised I didn’t really know how to explain myself without sounding like a complete weirdo. ”
Catherine’s mouth settled into an unsure half-smile as she tried, and failed, to gather the pieces. Jules sat back and wiped her mouth with her napkin.
“Even when we weren’t on the best terms, I still called my mum every week. She talked about you a lot.”
“Me?”
“Yeah, assuming you’re the nice young woman from downstairs?” Jules affected a high-pitched trill, which was a near-perfect impression of Bridie. “Lovely wee lass. Her name’s Catherine. She’s a doctor, you know.”
Catherine puffed out a laugh, but her brain was still struggling to pick up the thread.
“At first, I thought, ah, here we go, she’s trying to guilt me again for leaving. She’s rubbing it in that someone else is popping by to spend time with her, when her only child has wedged whole countries’ worth of distance in the way.” Jules rolled her eyes.
“She was a lovely lady. We spent many an evening together during the lockdowns; I figured we counted as one household and we both needed the company.” Catherine stared into the middle distance as the pandemic came back to her like a weird dream she’d just remembered. “What a strange time that was.”
“Mmm.” Jules shifted in her seat. She picked up her wine, eyeing Catherine over the glass as she drew a slow sip. Under Jules’s gaze, Catherine’s mouth went dry, so she mirrored her and drank.
“Well, I think you helped to change her mind.”
Catherine cocked her head. “How so?”
Jules let out a soft laugh. “Can you imagine her disappointment when she found out I didn’t like whisky? Well, double that when she found out I didn’t like men.”
Catherine mock-gasped. “You don’t like whisky?”
“Ach, no!” Jules smiled, but something sad lingered beneath it. “I’m more of a gin lass.”
Catherine frowned. “I’m sorry. I didn’t realise Bridie had a problem with… I mean, she mentioned you, of course, and I knew the two of you had drifted apart, but she never told me why. She never mentioned you were—”
“Gay? No, she was mortified by it. But you won her over.”
“I don’t see what I did.”
“She got to know you and realised that we lesbians aren’t as awful as she’d once assumed.” Jules shrugged and drained the wine in her glass.
“It must have been difficult for you. I can understand why you kept your distance.”
Jules refilled her glass and emptied the rest of the bottle into Catherine’s.
“You didn’t explain how you knew who I was.”
“Ah! Yeah… that.” Jules grimaced. “All of Mum’s mentionitis about her lovely wee doctor friend sparked my curiosity.” She drew in a breath and exhaled her next words in a rush, like she was trying to breathe them out of the room. “So, I got to researching you a bit.”
Catherine laughed. “You did what?”
“I just wanted to make sure you weren’t doing a number on her and swindling me out of my inheritance. I found your Facebook profile, but figured you weren’t really on there much as you only had six friends.”
No, that’s about the measure of it. Catherine blinked.
“Then I found your company website — Truscote and Dulson?”
“Dalton.”
“Yeah, that’s it.” Jules gestured at Catherine with her fork and grinned. “Nice photo of you on there.”
Catherine knew the one; it was a nice photo of her.
Jeremy had suggested they get professional shots taken when they updated the website.
After her initial reluctance, she agreed.
She turned up for the shoot looking austere, wearing a black roll-neck jumper and dark-rimmed glasses framing her face.
But right before the photographer released the shutter, she complimented the angles of Catherine’s cheekbones and the distinctive blue of her eyes, which resulted in Catherine’s lips curving into the smile she’d captured in the photo.
She agreed to a drink with her afterwards.
They shared a bottle of wine and almost kissed, but Catherine glimpsed the woman’s wedding ring and pumped the brakes… Once bitten!
When she emerged from the memory, Jules was staring at her with a deep line etched between her brows. “I’m sorry I overstepped. I shouldn’t have done that, or at least I should’ve introduced myself when I first realised—”
“Well, I’m just surprised you recognised me from one photo.”
Jules flashed her a sheepish smile. “You are quite distinctive.”
Despite the compliment, Catherine’s smile faded.
Should she be flattered or alarmed by Jules’s revelation?
She stared at the flickering candle whilst trying to decide.
In the low light, shadows danced on the walls, making the already intimate space feel even smaller.
When she looked back at Jules, her cheeks were glowing, flushed with either embarrassment or something else entirely.
“I’ve made it weird, haven’t I?” Jules grimaced again.
Silence crept in, putting the conversation in a chokehold.
Catherine stared at the candle again. Hadn’t she been just as bad?
She’d built the woman’s flatpack without being asked, she’d snooped through a stack of postcards, and she’d ogled Jules’s underwear, imagined her in it even.
A wave of mortification washed over her.
Juniper sauntered back into the room, announcing himself with a meow before dramatically flopping onto the rug. They both turned to look at him as he contorted himself like a furry pretzel and began what could only be described as an aggressive act of personal hygiene.
“Will says he wishes he could do that. Lick his own balls, that is, not Juniper’s.”
Catherine stifled a laugh, and it came out like a hiccup. Jules met her gaze, her lips curving in a small, uneven smile.
“I’m sorry again,” she said, her voice barely a whisper.
Catherine’s eyes swept the cosy room. She glanced back at the half-eaten meal Jules had so thoughtfully prepared and their empty glasses on the table. She drew a decisive breath and bunched her napkin from her lap onto the table, before standing to leave.