Out Late with Friends and Regrets Read Online Free PDF Page B

her mouth for emphasis. Fiona’s tension broke, and she flopped back into the soft upholstery, laughing.
    “You’re an idiot, Rosemary J. Carty.”
    “I know,” admitted Rosemary with a grin.
    “But can we change the subject?”
    “Sure. I didn’t mean to make you feel uncomfortable. But it must have occurred to you, surely? No, never mind, obviously not.”
    “My brain’s in freefall right now. I need time to get a handle on this.”
    “Right, no problem. So tell me how Anna’s getting on with her drama.”
     
    The Harford ringroad gave Fiona plenty to think about, as she looked out for her turning in the twilight rush of commuter traffic. But the elephant in the passenger seat waited its turn patiently, and glanced across at her when she was back on more familiar roads.
    “I’m not,” she said aloud. “I’m really and truly not.”
    She and Rosemary had parted on affectionate terms; Fiona’s momentary urge to distance herself wasn’t really about Rosemary. She just wished the subject hadn’t arisen. Never mind, Fiona would be hosting for a change in a couple of weeks, and by that time she would be able to smile the idea away, talk about it dispassionately; an amusing conjecture without foundation. She had definitely overreacted.
     
    Following an initial decision to give Lynn’s classes a couple of weeks’ break, she chided herself for being an idiot, and changed her mind.
    She struggled through aerobics for half an hour, then had to make an undignified rush for the changing rooms from the very visible pole position she had occupied in recent weeks; it made her exit horribly obvious. She sat on the bench in the little cubicle, shaking, red-faced, assailed by physical sensations which felt like a grotesque combination of panic attack and imminent orgasm. Trying to think herself down, she leant back against the partition with her eyes closed, emptying her mind, until her body quietened. She sat for a while. Then dressed, slowly.
    She was just checking for her keys in her kitbag   as she made for the outer door, when her classmates began to file in; “Hey, you OK?” and “D’you want to come for a cup of tea?” were offered with friendly concern. Then Lynn put her head round the door, and Fiona felt her face colouring again.
    “Are you all right, Fiona?” she asked, coming in and touching her on the arm.
    Fiona avoided looking her in the eye.
    “Just got my period unexpectedly, er, Lynn,” she replied, “think I’ll just go home and get to bed with a hot water bottle. Sorry.”
    “You take care now. Bye.”
    “Bye Lynn. Bye folks,” said Fiona, and left.
     
    “I guess it is a sort of crush. With Lynn, I mean,” said Fiona.
    Rosemary hadn’t mentioned it. She had arrived mid-morning, and Fiona had taken her for an energetic walk along the lanes, which gave them a good appetite for the lamb dish which she thought hadn’t turned out too badly. Conversation was animated, fun, fluent, just like it used to be at school.
    But over coffee it just came out.
    “You reckon?” said Rosemary, “You’re sure I haven’t talked you into it? I’ve been feeling rather bad about saying anything when you’re at a vulnerable stage of your life. I just thought you’d pretty well worked it out for yourself.”
    “I’ve been feeling very restless. I could be a bit gay, I suppose. It honestly never occurred to me. But now I can’t get the thought out of my head, and you know that thing where you come across an unusual word and then it’s in everything you read?”
    “Newspapers and telly full of lesbian gayness, you mean?” said Rosemary.
    “Yes. I can’t seem to get away from signs and portents and cosmic nudges.”
    “That’s because it’s lodged in your subconscious.”
    “I know, but how will I ever get to know for sure? Especially as most of us apparently fall into that great swathe between a hundred percent straight and a hundred percent gay. There’s no test.”
    “Oh yes there is.