The Case of the Sneaky Valentine

"Mum, you have Dad with you. Do you know how lonely it can be here, night after night on my own after the girls have gone to bed? It's lovely just to have someone to chat with, even just to watch the telly with." I hold up my hand, "I know what you're going to say, that I should go out, find a man, start dating... but, Mum, I'm not ready for that, not by a long way. I know not all men are like Roy, but some are and some are worse! In the meantime, let me, and Chloe and Tina, be with Zoe when we want to, alright?" Mum seems somewhat mollified but I add one last thing, "As for what the neighbours think, they can just bloody well mind their own business!"

"But what if one of them asks me about you and, and Zoe?"

"Tell them the truth: she is a friend of the family, and despite the pink, spiky hair, the makeup and punk clothes, she is a thoroughly decent and lovely human being!" I open my handbag and take out an envelope that I hand to Mum. "Here, open that. I mentioned to Zoe that your Women's Institute group is holding a tea party and she produced that as a leaflet for the event."

Mum opens the envelope and pulls out the leaflet inside, a simple, elegant design with the details of the Charity Tea Party that Mum is helping to organize. "I didn't ask her to design that, she just went ahead and did it. She even found out the details from the Internet so she could get it all correct. Like I say, she's lovely."

"I, I'm sorry, Sarah. I just get worried about you and my granddaughters, so I do. Would you thank Zoe for me, for this?"

"Er, you could thank her in person, if on Friday..."

"You'd like me to look after the girls so you can go out with her, I expect? Alright, I'll do it for you... but Sarah, do be careful, love."

Friday 30 March

It a little after four o'clock when I receive a text from Zoe:

Sorry Sarah but called to meeting with
a customer at last minute in W London.
Heading back soon but will meet you @
tapas bar @ 5 as planned. Love z x

When five o'clock arrives I head off on the ten-minute walk to the tapas bar, assuming that she'll have beaten me there. However, I'm the first to arrive so I head over to what I think of as our usual place at the far end of the bar. Marta soon comes over, "Good evening, Sarah, and where is Zoe today?"

"She was called away to a meeting at a client's office this afternoon and I guess she's either late finishing or caught up travelling; she was due to be here by now. I guess I might as well have, hmm," I toy between a glass of white wine and a beer, "yes, I'll go with a beer as it's probably the less inebriating option. I have enough trouble keeping up with Zoe without being a drink and a half ahead of her!"

"Inebriating, that is drunk-making, no? So beer is very sensible, not tequila," agrees Marta.

I sip the beer as I check my phone; still no call or text from Zoe and it is nearing half past five. A further fifteen minutes crawl past and I'm forced into ordering some mixed nuts to slow down my drinking. The bar is now quite busy and a woman comes up beside me. She is tall and thin with a tone that suggests lots of time in the gym, while her dark hair is cut very short, almost a crew cut. "Your girlfriend stood you up?" she asks without preamble and I shake my head but before I can explain she continues, "Well, you can do much better than her anyway: let Lexi show you a much better time between the sheets than you've ever had with your punk-girl lover!"

My jaw drops and a cold chill runs down my spine. I glance around, looking properly for the first time. How did I not see the way the women are acting together? The closeness, hands touching and, yes, two kissing over there... Shit, this is a lesbian bar! Does Zoe know? How can she not: Marta called her a regular, didn't she? Does that mean that she is too? I grab my phone and handbag from the counter and push my way hastily past Lexi and the other women in the bar until I'm out on the street once more.

I am furious with Zoe: how dare she bring me here and not tell me it is a gay bar? What's her game? In anger, I take out my phone and turn it off as I walk briskly to the station. Okay, the misunderstanding about the kiss was my fault but this..? Why? It's not so much the question of why bring me three times to a lesbian bar, it's more why not simply tell me? What is Zoe hiding? And so my thoughts go round and round as I head home.

When I arrive home three hours early Mum understandably has some questions. However, it feels wrong to share my anger, worries and speculation about Zoe and what happened, so I settle for simply telling her that Zoe had been held up at work and so couldn't make it. I think Mum can tell that I'm upset about something but, thankfully, doesn't push me in trying to find out what it is.

The same is not true of the twins, particularly Tina, once Mum leaves. They are concerned for me but also for Zoe and the two of them are dogged in their attempts to discover what the matter is. Even cups of hot chocolate only slow them down for a short time so that, in the end, I have to tell them something if only to stop them from imagining worse. "It's not something Zoe has done it more that she hasn't told me things that I then suddenly find out..." Just then there is a knocking on the door and before I can stop her, Chloe runs and opens it. When I enter the hallway I see Zoe standing in the doorway, very sad and upset.

"You won't answer your phone," she complains and I can hear from the catch in her voice that she is close to tears.

"I turned it off," is all I say.

"Sarah, please, can we talk?" she practically begs. I'm about to reply when Tina walks past, takes Chloe's hand and tugs her towards the stairs.

"Me and Chloe will go upstairs, Mum, so you and Zoe can like, talk and stuff," she tells me. How did that girl get to be so wise so young?

I nod, not trusting myself to say anything, and I indicate for Zoe to lead the way into the sitting room as the girls climb the stairs. I close the door softly behind me and stand as Zoe sits.

"Sarah, I know what happened tonight with Lexi: Marta told me she'd come on to you." She looks at me sadly. "I'm really sorry that I wasn't there and you had to deal with that."

"Zoe, I didn't like what happened but that's not why I'm so upset and angry. Zoe, I'm furious that you've arranged three nights at the same bar but never bothered to tell me it was a lesbian bar!"

"I... Sarah... I..." she stops and breathes deeply. "Sarah, it's not a lesbian bar, not as such. It's just that quite a number of gay women, and a few gay men too, choose to go there." She looks at me, a worried look on her face as if she expects me to start shouting, and quickly adds, "Sarah, listen: some straight women go there too as it feels very, well, sort of safe. You felt that, didn't you?"

I nod because I have to concede that much is certainly true. "But you could have told me that there were lots of gay women there. Do you know what it felt like with that woman, that... Lexi, coming up and assuming we were lovers and trying to get me into bed?"

"I'm so sorry that happened... Lexi has a reputation for doing things like that. I think she was the woman they had in mind when the term 'Predatory Dyke' was coined. Look, I took us there the first time precisely so we wouldn't be constantly interrupted by men hitting on you."

"There'd have been no danger of that wherever we went, I assure you," I tell her flatly.

"You are kidding, right? Sarah, you're gorgeous: beautiful, intelligent, fun, kind and caring. I was being selfish, taking you to La Gata Rosa, as I wanted it just to be us, without the male attention." I'm not sure I believe her assessment of my attractiveness but despite that, and despite my simmering anger and upset, I am flattered.

"And the female attention?" I ask.

"Sarah it... okay, the honest truth? I knew the people, the women there, would assume we were a couple. Most lesbian women respect each other's relationships; if you'd have gone in there on your own, it would have been different because you'd have been fair game then. I'm sorry, Sarah. I should have told you; I was going to tell you but your reaction to the idea of a woman as your Sneaky Valentine made me worry how you'd take it." Her head drops, awaiting my reply.

It all sounds so true and I want to just accept it all and get on with our friendship. But... there is that nagging question of whether she's gay. She seems very knowledgeable on the love lives of lesbians but then she may have gay friends and learned through them. She said that she's worse at relationships with men than I am; does that mean she's good at relationships with women? Would that make her lesbian? Does that question even matter? Would I really reject her as a friend because she's a lesbian? No, that's the sort of attitude I've always condemned, something from Mum or her generation. I look at her and remember us together: the jokes and laughter, the sharing and talking, her company and, more than anything, her on that Saturday morning playing on the PlayStation with Tina and Zoe and their three smiles as they turned to look at me... No, her friendship means too much to give it up.

Zoe looks up and I can see tears welling in her eyes. "I fucked up didn't I?" she says and my heart breaks at those words. Without speaking I step forward and pull her into a hug.

"Maybe a bit, but you're right: telling me that first week would have made me worry and I wouldn't have enjoyed the evening half as much. I guess not telling me the first week made it harder the next time... Zoe, thank you; thank you for putting up with me and my strops and tantrums and yet still wanting to be my friend."

Just then I hear the door open behind me and a moment later Zoe and I are being hugged by the girls. "And just how long have you two been listening at the door?" I ask sternly looking down at them.

"Um, would you be, like, really cross if it was, sort of, all the time?" asks Tina. Should I be angry? Zoe is their friend too, after all.

"Probably I should be very cross, but I know Zoe is special to the two of you as she is to me."

"Tina," Zoe interjects, "there are times when your Mum and I need to talk without the two of you there; had we known you were listening then we might not have sorted this out. Do you understand, both of you?"

"I... I think so. Sorry Zoe, sorry Mum."

"Yeah, sorry Mum and Zoe," adds Chloe, though with considerably less sincerity than her sister. "Not that we could, like, actually hear that much through the door anyway," she adds in a slightly aggrieved tone before changing the subject. "Mum, what's for dinner?"

"Oh crap," I swear gently, "I completely forgot about cooking, I'm sorry girls. I can't face cooking tonight so... pizza or fish and chips?"

"If we order pizza they'll deliver," points out Zoe.

"Good point. A pizza and a film sound so appealing..." I muse and get approval from the girls. "What about you, Zoe: fancy cuddling up in front of a film?"

"I'd love to," she replies happily.

An hour later, with the four of us squashed up together on the sofa watching 'The Princess Bride', Zoe and me in the middle and the girls either end and all under the duvets that the girls dragged downstairs, I feel very content and at peace after the emotions of the evening. Zoe has her feet tucked up as she rests against me and it feels very comfortable. I glance down and a disturbing thought crosses my mind at the feelings I have when I look at her: is this more than just friendship I feel for her?

Monday 2 April

Is it ever right to dream about you best friend naked? Fuck it, I'd settle for it not always being wrong. I can't deny though that the dream of Zoe stepping naked from the shower and pressing her wet, naked body against my own bare skin was irresistibly arousing. Even now, standing on the platform and having frigged myself to orgasm twice this morning, I can feel my body responding with a dampening tingle in my cunny.

Perhaps it's the effect of spending the whole weekend with her or maybe I'm in love with her; I certainly have a crush on her and what kind of admission is that for a thirty-four-year-old? Something seems to have shifted inside me, subtly but definitely changing me in ways I cannot fully understand. Despite this and above all, though, is the impossibility of anything really happening between us; I could never imagine sleeping with a woman and that's an end to it.

Though I don't manage to get a seat initially, one next to Zoe becomes available as the passenger alights at the next stop, which is unusual. Perhaps it is the aftermath of the dream but I am more aware than ever before of the press and warmth of her thigh against mine as we sit together chatting. I have to admit that it feels very pleasant, being so physically close to her.

Tuesday 3 April

Even with gloves, fur-lined trapper hat, scarf, coat and two pairs of socks on under my boots, I'm still cold. The forecast this morning said that there was a high probability of snow overnight tonight so I'll need to have a word with Patrick in case I can't make it in tomorrow, either due to the trains being disrupted or the girls' school being closed.

The carriage is a warm, snug space, particularly with so many bodies. Zoe gets up when she sees that I won't get a seat and comes to stand with me. Even without the mad press of people she rests up against me and I don't resist or try to stop her; that dream of her naked body against mine still hasn't faded. "Oh, nice hat," she teases, smiling.

"It's too bloody cold to worry about fashion," I smile back. "You can't say you don't feel the cold, you've got a scarf on, so where's your hat?" She looks down, bashfully before holding up a trapper hat that, apart from being black, is very like mine.

"You're right: it's too sodding cold and this is the hat I wear to archery during the winter."

"So am I unexpectedly fashionable or are we both equally frumpy?" I ask.

"Oh, definitely fashionable," she assures me, "especially if it starts snowing later."

In work, I do my best to get through the work and the morning passes swiftly. Now, though it is only two o'clock, it feels like nightfall; the sky is so overcast and dark that it leaves just a grey twilight. "Hey, it's bloody well snowin' out there!" Lisa's voice echoes across the office and suddenly there is a turn and lurch to the windows by a dozen or more people, all anxious to see for themselves. It is indeed snowing and heavily too, though it doesn't seem to be settling much. Just as well because I cannot leave until this report is completed or I might just as well kiss my career here goodbye; Patrick made that very clear that both our futures depend on this report when I talked to him about not making it in tomorrow. Damn. I phone Mum just to warn her that I might be late home if the snow gets worse. The news from Whiteton is not good: it started snowing an hour ago and is settling fast.

I try to push on quickly but there are charts and graphs that I need and Dave in Accounts hasn't finished them yet. Outside, the day seems slightly brighter and I think this is a good sign until I find that it's the light reflecting off the soft, white covering of now settling snow. Magical winter wonderland, my arse: it's going to be a bitch getting home.

Just after four o'clock and I'm finishing up the report at last and I just need to print and bind twenty copies once Patrick has checked the proof. Mum calls to say she's back home with the girls, all safe. They, of course, are out in the garden building a snowman.

Finally, at ten to five, I manage to escape and hurry, trudging and slithering in the snow, to the station where my heart sinks: it is packed. I look up and across the station concourse at the departure boards where the word CANCELLED appears again and again. I grip my phone, trying to figure out what to do and what I'm going to tell Mum and the girls, when I feel it vibrate and just about hear the beep of the text alert over the hubbub of the station. It is from Zoe:

R U OK? I'm stuck just inside Vic Stn. NO TRAINS!

I turn, wondering if maybe I can get a cab... and find Zoe stood right behind me, grinning with her hat on, covering her pink hair. Despite the chaos I cannot help smiling at her playfulness and, yes, the little skip my heart gives at seeing her.

"Sarah, we ought to get out of here: I overheard one of the station staff's radios and they've suspended the rail network for the time being and are looking to close the station."

"Maybe we could get a cab?" I suggest but the look on Zoe's face tells me that I'm being ridiculous. "A bus then?" I hazard.

"Sarah, apart from the fact that the few busses that are moving are all packed, the journey would take hours, even on a good day."

"So what are you saying? Are we stuck here for the night?" There's a touch of panic in my voice.

"I think we may be and so we ought to find somewhere to stay before everyone else comes to the same conclusion." Reluctantly I agree as we dodge and push our way through the crowding would-be commuters until we are outside once more.

"I have no idea where to go; hotels around here must be really expensive."

"Yeah, some are but one of the hotel chains has a hotel not far from here." She sees the look of concern on my face, "Don't worry, it's not that really cheap chain at which you and the twins had that horrible experience! This is the nicer one that's advertised by that comedian."

We hurry, at least as much as the snow allows, and fifteen minutes later we're at the hotel. It's bland but clean and modern and I'm happy to exchange style for comfort on a day like this, as my choice of headgear this morning proves. However, there are people ahead of us trying to do what we're doing, so there's a nervous wait. Finally, we're at the counter but the look on the receptionist's face is not comforting. "Bollocks," I swear under my breath, "Let me guess: the last room's just gone."

"No, madam, we have one left but, er, it's a double room." I glance at Zoe who shrugs.

"I don't mind if you don't," she says. Minding doesn't exactly enter my considerations, dominated as they are by the idea of sharing a bed with Zoe. I recall my saying to myself yesterday that I couldn't imagine sleeping with a woman: what a load of self-deluding bullshit that was!

"No, I don't mind and at least it's a room," I reply, and I hope they put the tremor in my voice down to slight apprehension rather than to the excitement I'm feeling in the pit of my stomach. We pay and are presented with two key cards and directed to the fourth floor.

The room is nice enough and the king-sized bed comfortable when we test it. "This bed's huge!" comments Zoe, "No chance of bumping into each other in the night." I am so tempted to reply, 'What a pity!' but I don't. However, I do not know what my face gives away because Zoe grins impishly at what she sees.

I phone home and find that Mum has been watching the news and knows of the train situation. "I've booked into a hotel for the night, so don't worry about me," I tell Mum. "Are you going to stay there with Chloe and Tina or take them home with you?"

"I'll take them home; I think I'd rather be with your Dad when the weather's like this."

"I don't blame you. Mum, thank you ever so much for this and all you do. I do love you; I know I don't say that as often as I should."

"Don't get all soppy, Sarah dear," Mum replies but I know she liked hearing that. "The girls want to know if Zoe's alright, so they do."

"Oh, let me speak to them, please Mum," I ask and there's a pause while Mum calls them to the phone.