outside.
Instead, she abandoned hope of gaining internet access and walked quietly back up the stairs and into their bedroom. Stevie was just pulling on a white T-shirt.
“Everything okay?”
“Yep, just getting these,” Vic said, placing Stevie’s water on her bedside table. It echoed in the glassy silence.
When Vic came out of the bathroom five minutes later, Stevie was reading her Kindle in bed.
Vic gave her wife a wary smile as she took her glasses off and joined her.
“It’s so damn quiet here, isn’t it?” Stevie whispered.
Vic looked over and nodded slowly. In London, the world never stood still. Even when Vic was doing yoga in the studio down the road, she could still hear the whoosh of traffic as it rumbled past, even over the whale music favoured by her instructor.
But here, if Vic lay still and tuned out the laughter coming from downstairs, she could hear nothing apart from her own breathing. That, and the sound of the wind and of the waves crashing against the wooden sand below, the beach being carved up from its flat surface to reveal welts and scars from previous tussles.
The calm was soon broken as Vic heard a crash from the next-door bedroom, then a flurry of giggles.
She and Stevie locked eyes as they realised with a slight sense of horror that the walls between the bedrooms weren’t as thick as they’d like.
Vic knew next door were Tash and Laura, who’d been pawing each other all night. She gulped – it didn’t take a genius to know what was coming next.
“Shit, I really don’t want to hear this.” Stevie pulled a face.
“And I do?”
Vic felt Stevie’s body tense up: if tonight was to be the start of something, that ship may have just sailed.
Stevie rolled over and buried her head under her freshly laundered pillow and Vic followed suit. It smelt of sunshine, the irony of which Vic grasped with both hands.
A few minutes passed. Under the pillow, the sound of Vic’s breathing was amplified. Eventually she peered under Stevie’s pillow, whose face was set to grimace mode.
“Have they stopped yet?” Vic asked, even though she knew the answer.
“They could be a while, they were pretty drunk.” Stevie pulled the pillow back down on her head.
Vic wriggled out, propped her head on her elbow and ran her left hand up and down Stevie’s slim body, feeling under her T-shirt and stroking her back. Stevie had lost weight since everything happened. Not for the first time, guilt washed over Vic. Even tonight, while everyone else had been helping themselves to seconds of dinner and cheese, Stevie had held back, her appetite not what it once was.
Stevie removed the pillow from the top of her head and twisted to look up at her wife.
Vic saw a flash of desire behind Stevie’s eyes. Vic’s body flooded with relief – it was still there. And even though Stevie’s body tensed at first, after a few seconds she began to relax.
Vic took a chance and leant in for a kiss. It was slow and gentle at first. Vic’s blood charged through her veins and her heartbeat revved. Encouraged by Stevie’s response, the parting of her lips, the taste of her tongue, Vic escalated the level of their kissing.
Unfortunately for her, it coincided with the moment Tash and Laura chose to reach their crescendo, with both now groaning loudly.
Stevie pulled back and shook her head. “I can’t, not with this.” She rolled into Vic and buried her head into her shoulder.
Vic stilled, sighed, then took Stevie fully into her arms.
Tash and Laura were still going.
Vic thought about banging on the wall in a comedy 1980s farce fashion, but shook her head at the notion and smiled sadly, wondering when she’d become such a curmudgeon. Then she remembered she could pinpoint the exact day.
Stevie rolled back slightly and looked up at her wife, looked like she was going to say something.
Vic could see the words spinning round her brain, coating her vocal chords, ready to spring. She hoped she was giving
Instead, she abandoned hope of gaining internet access and walked quietly back up the stairs and into their bedroom. Stevie was just pulling on a white T-shirt.
“Everything okay?”
“Yep, just getting these,” Vic said, placing Stevie’s water on her bedside table. It echoed in the glassy silence.
When Vic came out of the bathroom five minutes later, Stevie was reading her Kindle in bed.
Vic gave her wife a wary smile as she took her glasses off and joined her.
“It’s so damn quiet here, isn’t it?” Stevie whispered.
Vic looked over and nodded slowly. In London, the world never stood still. Even when Vic was doing yoga in the studio down the road, she could still hear the whoosh of traffic as it rumbled past, even over the whale music favoured by her instructor.
But here, if Vic lay still and tuned out the laughter coming from downstairs, she could hear nothing apart from her own breathing. That, and the sound of the wind and of the waves crashing against the wooden sand below, the beach being carved up from its flat surface to reveal welts and scars from previous tussles.
The calm was soon broken as Vic heard a crash from the next-door bedroom, then a flurry of giggles.
She and Stevie locked eyes as they realised with a slight sense of horror that the walls between the bedrooms weren’t as thick as they’d like.
Vic knew next door were Tash and Laura, who’d been pawing each other all night. She gulped – it didn’t take a genius to know what was coming next.
“Shit, I really don’t want to hear this.” Stevie pulled a face.
“And I do?”
Vic felt Stevie’s body tense up: if tonight was to be the start of something, that ship may have just sailed.
Stevie rolled over and buried her head under her freshly laundered pillow and Vic followed suit. It smelt of sunshine, the irony of which Vic grasped with both hands.
A few minutes passed. Under the pillow, the sound of Vic’s breathing was amplified. Eventually she peered under Stevie’s pillow, whose face was set to grimace mode.
“Have they stopped yet?” Vic asked, even though she knew the answer.
“They could be a while, they were pretty drunk.” Stevie pulled the pillow back down on her head.
Vic wriggled out, propped her head on her elbow and ran her left hand up and down Stevie’s slim body, feeling under her T-shirt and stroking her back. Stevie had lost weight since everything happened. Not for the first time, guilt washed over Vic. Even tonight, while everyone else had been helping themselves to seconds of dinner and cheese, Stevie had held back, her appetite not what it once was.
Stevie removed the pillow from the top of her head and twisted to look up at her wife.
Vic saw a flash of desire behind Stevie’s eyes. Vic’s body flooded with relief – it was still there. And even though Stevie’s body tensed at first, after a few seconds she began to relax.
Vic took a chance and leant in for a kiss. It was slow and gentle at first. Vic’s blood charged through her veins and her heartbeat revved. Encouraged by Stevie’s response, the parting of her lips, the taste of her tongue, Vic escalated the level of their kissing.
Unfortunately for her, it coincided with the moment Tash and Laura chose to reach their crescendo, with both now groaning loudly.
Stevie pulled back and shook her head. “I can’t, not with this.” She rolled into Vic and buried her head into her shoulder.
Vic stilled, sighed, then took Stevie fully into her arms.
Tash and Laura were still going.
Vic thought about banging on the wall in a comedy 1980s farce fashion, but shook her head at the notion and smiled sadly, wondering when she’d become such a curmudgeon. Then she remembered she could pinpoint the exact day.
Stevie rolled back slightly and looked up at her wife, looked like she was going to say something.
Vic could see the words spinning round her brain, coating her vocal chords, ready to spring. She hoped she was giving
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