Chapter 23 #2
“I’ve got skills the United Nation would pay for,” said Lisa. “Is this your only night off, Nell?”
“Strictly speaking, it’s not a night off, but I can only do so much talking shop.” That was true, but Nell wasn’t ready to admit that she’d put her desire to see Mattie above the conference.
“Put a group of doctors or nurses in one room together and invariably, the talk turns to something medical,” said Shona. “That’s why I stopped dating anyone in medicine.”
“The same goes for teachers,” said Lisa.
A look of mischief crossed Shona’s face. “Lisa and I are complete opposites. Grumpy and sunshine, especially when her damn cushions are everywhere.”
“Cushions are a necessity, not a luxury.”
Table service was prompt, and their waiter poured the wine. Lisa’s bracelets jangled as she raised her glass for a toast. “Here’s to new friends.”
Nell clinked glasses with the three of them. Mattie caught her eye and mouthed, “Thank you.” Nell smiled, the short but sweet exchange helping her to relax.
Lisa gestured between Nell and Mattie. “Have you two realised that both your names are in song titles? ‘Waltzing Matilda’ and ‘Nellie the Elephant.’”
Mattie giggled loudly, and her face lit up. Lisa’s joke seemed to break the shackles that the stress of the book launch had imposed.
“Me, waltzing? Not on your life. And Nell is no elephant.” Mattie’s lips curled naughtily. “No trunk.”
Nell felt her cheeks blush. She chose to believe it was because she was centre of attention. “I hate that song. The cool kids sang it at me in the playground all the time. It didn’t help that I wasn’t exactly slim.”
“Kids can be right sods, but they surprise me too, usually when I least expect it.” Lisa smiled at Shona. “I met this one at a netball match.”
“She was a player, I was the referee,” said Shona. “Although she seemed to think she was the boss. Foolish woman.”
“I am the boss, lady.” Lisa wagged her finger at her wife. “I can get a class of thirty teenagers to turn silent in one look.”
Shona snorted. “By boring them into submission with yet another historical fact that no one actually needs to know.”
“Ah, but they might want to know it.”
“Need and want are two very different fish.” Shona waggled her eyebrows.
Mattie made a gagging motion. “You’re going to put me and Nell off our salmon.”
Nell laughed. It’d been by chance that they’d ordered the same dish, and they’d shared another smile over it.
Just being around these women lifted Nell’s heart.
This kind of friendship, with women who freely loved women, gave her a wholly unexpected sense of belonging.
She’d missed out on so much all these years.
She ate delicious creamy salmon pasta and mostly listened to the three friends as they chatted, but gradually she felt comfortable enough to initiate conversation.
Shona was intelligent and cut to the chase, whether it was discussing the merits of electric cars or the best spin bowler in the England women’s cricket team.
Lisa was more of an observer, taking time to consider and share her thoughts.
They all shared a love of exploring the outdoors, and Nell shared an embarrassing-for-her story about falling face-first into a lake while trying to climb into a kayak.
Lisa raised her glass again. “I’m glad you ditched your conference for us, Nell.”
“Here’s to borrowed shirts,” said Mattie.
“Borrowed? Stolen, more like,” Nell said.
Shona laughed as they clinked glasses. “I’d watch this one, Nell. I let her borrow a jumper once, and I never got it back.”
Mattie rolled her eyes. “It wasn’t my fault that my bag was lost in transit. You can blame the airline for that. Anyway, the legal definition of theft is taking something with the intention of permanently depriving the owner of it. Isn’t that right, Chief Inspector Abraham?”
“It is,” Nell said, trying to keep a straight face but almost certainly not succeeding.
Amusement lit Mattie’s face. “There you go. Not guilty.”
Nell gestured at Mattie’s swirly green, black, and white patterned shirt. “I like this. I’m presuming it’s someone else’s though.”
“How rude,” said Mattie. “It’s mine, actually. I love it, but it’s too psychedelic to wear on screen.”
“And my kidnapped shirt is where?” Nell asked and pressed her lips together to stop from grinning.
Mattie slapped her hand over her mouth. “I forgot to bring it. It’s still in my closet.”
Lisa snorted. “You forgot it?”
Shona waggled her eyebrows. “A likely story.”
Everyone laughed, but Mattie dropped her fork onto the plate with a clatter. “I was stressed, okay?”
Shona laughed louder. “You—”
“Just leave it, okay?” Mattie stood suddenly, her chair scraping on the wooden floor. “I need the bathroom.”
Worry clouded Nell’s mind as Mattie stalked across the restaurant.
That’d turned sour abruptly. Up until then, Mattie had dished out the teasing and brushed off what she’d received in return with ease.
Clearly, something had struck a nerve. Should she follow her, check that she was all right?
Or would Mattie prefer space? The latter, probably.
She could give Mattie a few minutes and then go to her if she hadn’t rejoined them.
Lisa shook her head. “And there’s the evidence for why we’ve been begging Mattie to go back to counselling. Her mood switches just like that.” She clicked her fingers to emphasise her point.
“She’s being her usual stubborn arse about it,” Shona said.
Nell straightened the cutlery on her empty plate. “I haven’t known Mattie for long, but it doesn’t surprise me.”
“She was talking about returning to her overseas post, reporting from conflicts and god knows what else,” said Lisa.
Nell’s heart thumped in alarm. “Really?”
“None of us think she’s in a fit state for that.” Shona drained her glass of wine. “Even before Kenya, she was close to burnout.”
Nell saw the worry on Shona’s and Lisa’s faces. They were sharing their concerns from a place of love and care, rather than indulging in idle gossip. She stifled a gasp. War reporting? Could Nell cope with Mattie placing herself in real danger, all for the sake of a story?