Fourteen
Now
Poppy watched the coffee machine do its thing in a slight daze. She was knackered. It was Saturday, and she’d been working six days a week for months now. It was starting to wear her down. She hadn’t ever had a real job before if you didn’t count pop star or songwriter or session guitarist—which she didn’t.
The bell on the door clanged, and suddenly, Cherry came charging in, dragging Luna by the hand. ‘Poppy!’ she cried in her thick Jamaican accent, which hadn’t budged an inch in all the fifty years she’d lived here. ‘I’m so sorry!’
‘What’s wrong?’ Poppy asked, alarmed.
‘I’ve had a call! My mother is sick! I’ve got to get on a plane to Cape Town this afternoon!’
‘Your mother!?’ Poppy said in slight disbelief. Cherry looked good, but she had to be in her seventies. How was her mother even alive to be sick?
‘I told her she needed to cut down on the running, but she wouldn’t be told! That half-marathon was her last, I think,’ Cherry said with a shake of her head.
Poppy couldn’t even respond to that wild statement. ‘Do you need any help getting a flight?’
‘No, my nephew booked me on one, but it leaves in two hours. I’ve got to go now. I’m so sorry.’
‘Cherry, don’t apologise!’ Poppy told her. ‘You’ve got to go. Luna can sit at a table here,’ she said.
Truth be told, Poppy wasn’t sure that was going to work out. Luna wasn’t great at quiet play.
‘Thank you for understanding,’ Cherry said, and she flew back out, frazzled.
The poor woman. Poppy knew that when that moment came, all you could do was try to get there. Nothing else made sense.
Poppy looked at Luna, her eyes barely over the counter. ‘Are you OK?’ she asked, worried the kid had been unnerved by the chaos.
But Luna was not interested in the calamity; her eyes were on the glass case. ‘Can I have a cake?’
Poppy placed Luna at a nearby table with a cake and a babycino. But once Luna finished eating, there would need to be an activity for her to do. If only Poppy had the iPad at hand. She tried to be conservative about their use, but in a pinch, they were bloody effective. She’d have borne the judgy glares it would have incurred happily.
A customer pulled up wanting a bacon sandwich, and Poppy rang up the order and sent it to the kitchen. That done, she looked to see that Luna had finished her snack and was already wandering about.
‘Luna...’ she called.
‘What’s that?’ Luna asked, pointing at a hairless dog sitting by a man’s leg.
‘What? It’s a dog,’ Poppy answered impatiently.
‘Where’s its hair?’ she asked. The owner looked up.
‘Luna, can you come over here please,’ Poppy hissed urgently.
Luna turned to the dog owner. ‘Did you shave it?’
The man frowned. ‘No, it’s the breed. It’s an American Hairless Terrier.’
‘It looks weird,’ Luna told him.
In her defence, she had a point. But Poppy didn’t care to back her on it, because the situation had forced her to come out from behind the counter to drag her away from the man, who was looking quite peeved about his dog’s beauty being called into question.
She pulled the girl back to her original table. ‘I need you to sit quietly.’
Luna frowned. ‘What shall I do?’
‘Uhh...’
‘Can I draw?’
‘I don’t have anything to draw with.’
‘Can I do Lego?’
‘I haven’t got your Lego,’ Poppy pointed out.
Luna let out an almighty sigh. ‘I’m so boreeeeed.’
‘You’ve been here all of five minutes, Luna. And you’re going to have to occupy yourself for a few hours yet.’
‘Hours!’ Luna almost yelled. The few occupants of The Sugar Cube turned to the loud whine.
‘Shh!’ Poppy begged. She didn’t know how the hell she was going to get this kid to chill.
‘Can I play with Freddie?’ Luna asked.
That threw Poppy. ‘He’s not here.’
Luna pointed out of the café window at the small square opposite. Freddie was rolling around on a scooter, gleefully speeding towards birds, causing them to fly up into the air in terror. Poppy couldn’t see Norah around.
But there was a blond man with a beard yelling, ‘Freds! Leave them!’ He had to be Freddie’s dad and, therefore, Norah’s partner. He was handsome enough to match Norah in the looks department, Poppy would give him that.
‘No, you can’t play with Freddie. You have to stay here,’ Poppy instructed Luna firmly.
‘Why? There’s nothing to do,’ Luna whined.
‘If Freddie comes in, sure. But you can’t go out there to him, OK?’ Poppy explained.
Luna looked unhappy. ‘OK.’
Poppy went back behind the counter, leaving Luna sitting at the table. She was wondering if there was some app she could put on her phone quickly for Luna to look at. Educational, if possible, but anything would have done. If the kid wanted to play Call of Duty, Poppy would have been OK with it if she could just get the kid to sit down.
But then she saw Luna heading for the door of the café. Poppy flew back round the counter in time to see Luna fling open the door and scream, ‘FREDDIE!’ with every bit of air in her lungs.
The boy turned instantly. ‘LUNA!’
Poppy reached Luna at the door. ‘Luna!’
‘You said I could only play with him if he came in. And he’s coming.’
Trust Luna to find a workaround for the rules. She was going to make an excellent lawyer one day.
Poppy watched as Freddie and his hassled dad came across the road. ‘I take it they’re friends?’ the man asked. He didn’t look too annoyed.
‘Yeah, sorry,’ Poppy said.
‘Nah, it’s fine. I could do with a coffee anyway.’
They all trooped in, and Freddie and Luna began chatting in a corner, giggling at something as Freddie’s dad came up to the counter.
Poppy ran back around. ‘What can I get you?’
‘Black coffee, please. With an extra shot.’
Poppy made the coffee, one eye on Luna and Freddie. She served Freddie’s dad. ‘Here.’ She handed it to him. ‘On the house.’
‘Thanks very much,’ he said, pleased. ‘I’m Max, by the way.’
Poppy smiled politely. ‘Poppy.’
Poppy had thought there could be a reaction to her old relationship with his wife, but if there was one, it was too subtle to see.
He took a sip of coffee. ‘Can’t be easy working with a kid in tow.’
‘I don’t usually, but my babysitter had an emergency,’ she explained.
‘Well, we were just headed to the park around the corner. Yours could come with us?’
Poppy thought it over. It would have solved a problem. Trouble was, she didn’t know Max at all.
‘Oh, umm...’
‘I’d be grateful if I’m honest,’ Max said quietly. ‘The trouble with having just one is that you have to do all the playing with them.’ He looked pained. ‘I can’t do the seesaw anymore. My back was screaming last time.’
Poppy decided she’d better turn him down as nicely as she could. ‘It’s a nice offer...’
Max’s phone beeped, and he took it out and checked it, tutting to himself. He looked back up at Poppy. ‘Do you know my wife? Norah?’ he asked.
Poppy was jolted. ‘Yes, actually.’
Did he really not know who Poppy was? Was she not worth mentioning when romantic history came up? That stung a bit.
‘Ah, great. Well, she was going to meet us at the park, but I’ve kinda gotta run. I was wondering... maybe I could leave Freddie here with you? She won’t be long.’
‘Wait, what?’ Poppy said.
How the hell was this happening? From zero children to two in twenty minutes? They were multiplying.
‘It’ll be easier now. They’ll occupy each other,’ he vowed.
That could be true, but still, it was a lot of responsibility. ‘Um, how long will she be?’
‘She’ll be here any minute. I’ll let her know you’ve got him.’
Poppy felt stuck. ‘OK.’
Max was already moonwalking out on the second syllable of the word. ‘Great. Cheers. Freddie! This lady’s looking after you! Do as she says!’ he called and left.
It was a full thirty minutes later that Norah arrived. She burst in, looking aggravated. ‘Sorry, sorry!’ she yelled at Poppy.
‘No, it’s fine. They were keeping each other occupied,’ she told Norah, which was true.
They were playing some mysterious imagination game together at a corner table that involved a jungle, a train, and penguins.
‘I was at the supermarket; I didn’t see the text!’ Norah looked furious. ‘Freddie, you OK?’
Freddie looked around and saw his mum. ‘Oh, hi. I’ve had cake!’
‘I hope you don’t mind me feeding him sugar?’ Poppy asked nervously.
‘God, no!’ Norah exclaimed. ‘Thank you so much for doing this.’
‘So, I finally met your husband,’ Poppy said.
‘Such as he is,’ Norah muttered bitterly.
That didn’t sound good. But Poppy wasn’t going to pry. They weren’t there.
‘Sit down. Let me make you a drink,’ Poppy said.
Norah was still coming down from her mad dash and seemed surprised to come and find everything was fine.
‘Oh. OK.’
‘It was a latte, wasn’t it?’
‘Yeah. Well remembered.’
For Poppy, remembering was never hard. It was forgetting that she struggled with.
Twenty Years Ago
Poppy was working her way down Norah’s magnificent naked body.
She’d had some idea of Norah’s body through clothing, and without trying to leer, she’d often found herself admiring her generous chest through T-shirts. But getting to run her hands all over her breasts, to kiss them and all the gorgeous parts of Norah’s body, was something else.
Poppy was aware that with every second that passed, she was getting that much closer to a more fixed label on her preferences, and right now, she was extremely good with that. It was all so right. What could be wrong?
Poppy kissed ever downwards toward the epicentre of Norah, and though she’d never dealt with this body part before, she was very excited to explore it. She hoped her enthusiasm would cover her amateurishness.
And it did. It really did. Norah was extremely sensitive and responded to Poppy’s mouth immediately. Her back arched, and Poppy grabbed onto her bottom to hold her still-ish while she worked to a chorus of beautiful moans. Suddenly, Norah let out a sharp cry, and her body collapsed onto the bed.
Poppy looked up. ‘Did you...’
Norah looked down at Poppy, her eyes cloudy. She nodded, apparently not able to speak yet. Poppy took that as a very good review and made her way back up to Norah, to hold her. Norah turned and snuggled into her.
‘Have you done that before?’ Norah eventually asked.
‘No,’ Poppy admitted.
‘Wow,’ Norah smiled, ‘I hope I can—’
That sentence was never able to finish because the downstairs door banged. Mrs Cauldwell was home.
‘Oh shit,’ Norah said, her smile falling away.
‘Will she come in?’ Poppy asked, alarmed.
‘Probably!’
Feet were travelling up the stairs.
Poppy and Norah looked at each other in panic. Poppy had to think fast. She rolled off the bed, still extremely naked, and shuffled under the bed frame. She threw a quick thanks up to Aphrodite, the Greek goddess of lust, that Norah didn’t sleep on a divan, or such an escape would not have been possible.
She heard Norah rustling about on top of the bed, pulling the blanket over her. The door opened. It amazed Poppy that Mrs Cauldwell hadn’t learned anything from the last time she’d made an unannounced appearance, but perhaps the habit of not respecting boundaries was a hard one to break.
Poppy could see Mrs Caldwell’s feet march partway into the room. Poppy held her breath, praying not to be spotted.
‘Norah,’ Mrs. Cauldwell said, her voice laden with disapproval. ‘You’re up late?’
‘I was just... reading,’ Norah replied, her voice muffled by the blanket. ‘I got carried away, I guess.’
‘I don’t see a book,’ her mother said.
Poppy looked around quickly and saw a book under there with her. She passed it up around the side of the bed that Mrs Cauldwell couldn’t see, and it was grabbed quickly.
‘It’s this,’ Norah said. ‘It’s about... space... things.’
Mrs. Cauldwell made a sour, ‘Hmmmm’ noise.
‘Speaking of which, how was your book club?’ Norah asked her mother nervously.
‘Good, thanks,’ the woman said flatly.
‘What are you reading?’ Norah asked.
Mrs Caldwell’s voice changed, becoming hesitant. ‘Umm... A book about a woman who... Likes cooking. And then she decides to become a TV chef. But people try to stop her because... it’s the eighties. No, the sixties.’ There was a pause, and then she said, ‘OK, night!’ She backed out of the room, shutting the door quickly.
Norah’s face appeared upside down over the side of the bed. ‘I think you can come up now,’ she whispered.
Poppy wiggled out from under the bed. ‘Hell’s tits! That was ridiculous!’ she said quietly. She found her pants on the floor and pulled them on, bra next. She turned to see Norah watching her nervously.
‘Sorry,’ Norah whispered back.
‘It’s not your fault.’ Poppy looked around. ‘Where’s my jeans? How do I get out now?’
Norah shrugged. ‘Not sure of either.’
She sat down on the bed. ‘Will she come back in?’
‘Unlikely.’
‘So that thing your mum said about the chef book... That was a lie, right?’ Poppy noted.
‘Yeah, what was that? I know why I was making up a book, but why was she?’ Norah said, wrapping the blanket around her body. She gave Poppy a small smile and lifted it so that Poppy could slide under with her.
Poppy did so enthusiastically, glad to be with Norah again. That minute under the bed had been an age of separation.
‘I think you might be trapped until my mum is out.’
‘How long?’
‘I’d give it an hour for safety.’
‘An hour? But what do I do if she does come back?’
‘Look, just stay under the covers. She probably wouldn’t even know you’re there if she comes in,’ Norah suggested.
Poppy snuggled closer to Norah. ‘I wish I’d have thought of that the first time. Though I will admit, I was quite impressed by the cleanliness under your bed. No dust balls or anything.’
‘My mother was just under there yesterday with the Hoover. You got lucky,’ Norah noted. ‘Two days ago, you’d have probably had a fit of sneezes and given the game away. Thanks for the book, by the way. Quick thinking.’
Poppy smiled at her. Though the interruption had been a close call, there was something exciting about hiding together like this. Norah's body was warm and soft next to hers.
‘I guess we'll just have to keep each other entertained for the next hour,’ Poppy whispered, tracing her finger slowly down Norah's arm.
Norah shivered at her touch. ‘However will we manage?’ she murmured, shifting even closer.
Poppy was pleased to find that the mood wasn’t a total write-off from the interruption.
They picked up where they’d left off, albeit at a quieter volume, muffling moans against each other's lips as they explored and pleasured one another.
When it seemed Mrs Cauldwell must surely be asleep, Poppy gave Norah one last lingering kiss. ‘I guess I should sneak out now,’ she whispered. ‘But next time, let's go to my place.’
Norah smiled, still catching her breath. ‘It's a date.’
Poppy snuck out for the second time that week and, again, made it out clean. On the front step, she took in the night sky, euphoric from a night of passion with Norah Cauldwell.
I’m definitely a lesbian, Poppy thought to herself. My mother will be thrilled.