Chapter 6 Cleo
Cleo
Oh, I slept so well last night. Amazing what a full eight hours can do. I’m quite pumped to start interviewing people. Maybe it will help me move past this mental block I have with the Navy as a whole.
The timid knock at lunch time sent my heart into my throat. I don’t know why. I knew who it was, and there was no reason to react that way because River was at my door.
“Enter.”
River opened the door like she was expecting an attack. “Good morning, Cleo. Is now a good time?”
I put my pad down and invited her to sit. “Absolutely. There isn’t much to organise. I plan to interview crew members from as many job sectors as possible. I’d like a mix of ranks too.”
She stood there at ease. I wanted to tell her to make herself comfortable, but I didn’t think she would. The whole situation is and was uncomfortable.
River shifts her weight from foot to foot. Her eyes dart around the tiny cabin, landing anywhere but on me. The silence stretches.
“Have you any idea when you’d like my help?”
I look at the list of departments I plan to visit. “I’ll start with the places I know. How about you help me next week?” I wink at her and hope she realises I’m alluding to her night shifts. If I can get her out of them, then I’m happy to.
I got a genuine smile from her. “That works for me. Is there anything else?”
“No.” I turned back to my work, thinking she’d leave, but after a beat I could still feel her presence. “Was there something else?”
She rubbed the back of her head. “We’re going out tonight. Me and my bunkies. I wondered if you’d like to come with us. It’s the last night we’ll have off for a while.”
“Oh, um…”
Is this a good idea? Going out drinking with River and her friends? The same River I’m trying to maintain a professional distance from?
“Nothing in it, Cleo. I thought we could have a drink and start again. Just as colleagues.”
She took me completely by surprise, but I admit it felt good to get the invite.
It was going to be a lonely few weeks if I only had myself and possibly the captain to talk to outside of work.
“I’d like that. Thank you.”
I spent twenty minutes staring at my suitcase, trying to figure out what constitutes “casual night out with colleagues who aren’t really colleagues.” I’d packed for interviews and formal dinners, not gay clubs in Portsmouth.
The jeans are my only pair. The silk shirt is meant for drinks with sources, not dancing, but it’s the best I can do.
That’s how I came to be standing outside one of Portsmouth’s gay bars at 10:30 p.m.
River introduced me officially to her bunk mates before we left the ship. It feels strange to call grown women Cheddar and Boot, but it’s what they want, so who am I to complain?
Cheddar had grinned and said, “Don’t worry, you’ll get used to it. Everyone does.”
Boot added, “And if Romeo gives you any trouble, you just let us know.”
River had rolled her eyes, but there was affection in it.
Kit is lovely. I see her as the matriarch of the group. River is definitely the wild child. Cheddar is the younger kid who hangs on to everything River does, and Boot is the baby of the group. It’s quite the little family.
Bass is thumping through the club and out into the street every time the butch bouncer opens the door. She spies River and smiles widely.
“I thought you were shipping out?”
The women waiting in the queue eye River like she’s a celebrity. A few whisper to each other, giggling. One waves. River throws her a wink but keeps walking.
Christ, she really does have a reputation.
Several women peer around the friends to listen in and drag their eyes up and down River and her crew.
“One last night,” River says with a wide smile. I remember that smile from the other night. It’s the smile that got River access to my knickers.
“Enjoy, then!”
With a slap on the back, the bouncer lets us in. She checks me out and winks. Unfortunately, she’s not my type, and the last thing I should be doing is falling into bed with anyone right now.
Tonight is a bonding exercise. River is right. We’re going to be in each other’s lives, closely, for the next couple of months. I’d rather do that without tension. The other women seem like fun too, and it gives me hope the job isn’t going to be as shitty as I first thought.
The bar is close to four people deep. A full spectrum of queerness is on display, and I immediately relax.
God, it feels good to be surrounded by queers again.
I’d forgotten how much I hated tagging along to straight bars with my hetero friends back in the day.
Cheddar and River are already scanning the crowd.
Looking for their next conquests, I suppose.
Kit and Boot are chatting away, leaning against the bar, which they’ve miraculously managed to get to.
I imagine the bar bunnies parted like the Red Sea as soon as they clocked the sailor’s swagger.
Even though none of them are in uniform, it’s like the group exudes a confidence that screams military. That or they’ve been here so often, and banged most of the women, that they don’t even have to try anymore.
“What ya drinking, Cleo?” Kit shouts.
“Vodka cranberry, please.”
The music does what it always does and weaves through my body, making me move on instinct. Tonight is just what I need. A few hours of dancing, surrounded by beautiful people. As long as I leave the club alone, I’ll be great.
Boot squeezes through the crowd with my drink. The rest of them are on bottles of beer and shots. River peels herself away from a busty blonde to hand me a plastic shot glass filled with neon green liquid.
“Bottoms up,” she cries before slamming her own shot back.
Ah, what the hell.
As predicted, the alcohol is nasty, but everyone cheers and immediately grabs a second. River and Cheddar turn back to the blonde and her friend. Kit rolls her eyes but laughs along with Boot, who is making childish snogging motions.
Time for me to let loose. Signalling Kit, who is the only one paying attention, I let her know I’m heading for the dance floor.
It’s a writhing pit of sweaty bodies. I’m immediately pulled into the throng. My hands lift above my head and my hips sway. The song thumps and the people lose themselves, me included.
A pair of arms circle my waist. Tilting my head to the side, I spy a tall femme currently making her intentions known as she grinds my arse. I won’t let it go anywhere, but hell, I might as well enjoy a bit of bodily contact for the next few minutes.
We move together with fluid motions. Her lips ghost my neck as she pushes her chest into my back.
I can’t help but bite my lip as heat pools low in my abdomen.
Twirling around, my arms settle over her shoulders.
She’s very nice to look at, and if I hadn’t promised myself to stay clear of women for a while, I’d certainly be taking her to bed.
She smiles down at me and moves in closer. Instead of kissing me, though, she brings her lips to my ear. “You’ve got an admirer. Over by the bar.”
My eyes move over her shoulder and lock onto the only woman looking my way. River. She’s got the busty blonde hanging off her arm, whispering something in her ear, but River’s attention is solely on me. Her expression is unreadable—not quite jealous, not quite interested. Just…watching.
My stomach does something complicated.
The second our eyes connect, she looks away.
I don’t want to read anything into it. We’re trying to start off on a clean slate, and nothing good will come of making something out of a bit of eye contact. Plus, she’s already got her tongue down the blonde’s throat, so there’s that.
“Nah, she’s just keeping an eye on me. I’m here with a group of friends,” I shout back to the tall femme.
“I could keep an eye on you for the night.” Her eyebrow lifts, and the smile she shoots me is pure sin.
Laughing at her forwardness, I shake my head and continue to dance. “I’m just here to let off some steam on the dance floor. Nothing more.”
She bites her lip. “That’s a crying shame.”
I shrug. “Maybe another time?”
“We can still dance though, right?”
Instead of answering, I let my body do the talking.
We spend several more songs practically dry humping.
It’s a safe bet I’ll need to take things into my own hands this evening, but at least I’ll have kept my word.
No more one-night stands. Not until this job is over and I’m far away from anyone remotely connected to the Royal Navy.
Sweat pours from my face as tall femme and I make it back to the bar. Kit and Boot are still doing shots. Cheddar is on the periphery of the dance floor, receiving a lap dance from the busty blonde’s friend. Speaking of her, she’s leading River towards the toilets.
“I’m Laura, by the way,” the tall femme says.
“Cleo.”
“Are you sure you don’t want to have a little fun, Cleo?”
She’s gorgeous. Tall, confident, clearly interested. It would be easy. So easy. Go home with her, forget about River and the Navy and this whole complicated mess for a few hours.
But I made myself a promise.
“Sorry, I need to check in with my friends. It was nice dancing with you.” I rise to my tiptoes and give her a peck on the cheek. She smells nice. Damn it.
Taking a lung full of club air, I back away before I change my mind. Kit welcomes me with a well-defined arm over my shoulder. Her eyes are considerably glassier than earlier.
“There ya are! You taking that sexy tall drink of water home?”
Laughing, I sling my arm over her shoulder. “Nope. I’m here to get to know you guys. We’re going to be shipmates, after all.”
“Yeah,” Boot crows before necking another drink. “Here, get this down ya.”
Obliging Boot’s request, I sink the drink and settle in for the evening. We chat and laugh. I learn Kit has a very pregnant sister, and Boot loves old movies.
“So your granddad owned a cinema?” I lean in closer to Boot, fascinated.
Her face lights up. “Yeah! Old-school one, you know? Red velvet seats, proper projection room. He’d let me stay after closing and watch whatever I wanted. That’s how I fell in love with Katharine Hepburn.”
“Bringing Up Baby?” I guess.
“Every queer woman’s awakening!”
Cheddar stumbles over an hour later with swollen lips and a hickey on her neck. She informs us that River has left, and she’s on her way out for a night of wild sex. Her words exactly minus the slurring.
Kit, Cheddar, and Boot do an elaborate bro handshake as they say goodbye, which makes me chuckle. They’re a little ridiculous. Total bachelorettes, but loveable. They clearly love each other. Watching them, I feel something tighten in my chest—not quite envy, but close.
The camaraderie my dad always spoke about was the only thing I could remotely relate to with him. I made two close friends at university. We went through everything together, and they quickly became my found family.
“Are we heading back to the ship?” I ask Kit.
“Food. Kebabs to be exact. It’s a tradition,” Boot announces, scooping me into her side.
Spilling out the club, I suck in a breath as I try to get my equilibrium. The night air compounds the alcohol running through my system. Kit, Boot, and I link arms and stagger down the street. I let them pull me along to their favourite kebab shop.
As usual, the food tastes amazing. It’s a well-known phenomenon that any street food eaten after a skin-full of booze tastes like heaven until it reappears the next morning.
Thankfully, I may be drunk, but I’m not so bad I’ll be plastered to the loo all night.
“Did anyone make sure River had her phone charged?” Boot asks. We’re close to base, and I can’t wait to get to bed.
Kit nods. “Made sure before we left.”
“Sorry, but why do you need to check that?”
Kit shrugs. “In case we have to blow up her phone to get her back on base before WO Benson descends on us for inspection.”
“She’s a grown woman,” I say, laughing.
“She’s also the one who will get us written up,” Kit replies.
“On the last night out, she got back just under the wire,” Boot remarks, “but we still got extra PT because of her.”
“And I need her back on time tomorrow, because if she costs me any shore leave, I’m gonna lose my shit,” Kit states.
We arrive at the gate and show our ID to the MPs.
We’re about to pass through the barrier when Boot whistles low, her eyebrows raised.
Turning, I see River walking towards us, her hands shoved in her pockets and a scowl on her face.
Her hair is messier than when she left, but not in the just-had-sex way.
More like she’s been running her hands through it in frustration.
Her lipstick is smudged, but there’s no matching shade on her collar. Her jaw is tight.
Something happened this evening.