Trying to Throw my Arms Around the World

Straight

Straight

“That’s Roz and, erm, dare I say it. She’s straight.”

“How straight?”

“Since when are there degrees of straight?”

“Since 1986 when I met this girl Cindy–”

“You’re not straight to any degree, Claire. Given the chance, you’d shag that fridge over there.”

“If you’re going to be like that, I’ll find out on my own.”

“Please do, but let me warn the poor woman first.”

“What’s going on here?” Lou entered the kitchen, her lips stained burgundy from the wine.

“There are some things you don’t know yet about your future boss, honey, but she’s hardly the discreet type so I’m sure you’ll find out soon enough.”

“Don’t listen to her, Lou. It looks like Lee is going sour in her old age. She seems to have lost all sense of adventure. Now, if you ladies will excuse me.” Claire squeezed herself between Lou and me and exited the kitchen.

“What was that all about?”

“She’s only going after Roz.” I craned my neck to see if Claire was heading straight for her target but Lou positioned her face in front of mine and planted a sloppy wine kiss on my lips.

“Some party,” she said while trailing her lips along my right cheek. “Thank you so much.” At least I didn’t have to worry about Lou getting upset about Roz’s presence anymore as she appeared sufficiently plastered. And Roz and Claire were grown women – although I was fairly certain Roz had something else in mind when she had said she wanted to see what Claire Burns was all about. “Let’s go upstairs for a minute.” Lou’s tongue was in my ear now, lightly jabbing at the inside, her teeth grazing the lobe. Something had made her frisky. I could only hope it wasn’t Claire.

“I’m hosting this night for you. I can hardly disappear for a quickie.”

“We’ll be back before anyone notices. Does this kitchen have a walk-in pantry?”

I re-entered the sitting-room fifteen minutes later, my face flushed and my lips folded into a silly smirk. I observed Eleanor immersed in an animated conversation with Theresa – something to do with feminism in the seventies and monogamy in the nineties. Roz sat in the far end of the couch, Claire propped up next to her with her eyes narrowed to slits and her lips puckered into their ultra-seductive pout. As long as she focuses on Roz, her attention is drawn away from Lou, I thought. I couldn’t help myself.

“Lee, come here,” Alex said. “I need your opinion on an important matter.” He was talking to Vic whose ghostly pale complexion was only showing mild hints of a blush. Either she was used to drinking or her blood was ice-cold. I walked over to them and Alex put his arm around me in a conspirator-like gesture. “You know them both best.” He pointed his chin in the direction of the sofa where Claire now had one hand on Roz’s shoulder. “Can I bet money on this?”

“The blonde seems a bit uptight,” Vic said. “I don’t think she’ll go for it.”

“You don’t know Claire Burns, darling,” Alex said. “She’ll stop at nothing.”

“I’m staying well out of this,” I said. “And how dare you, you filthy queen, wager on something like that?”

“Don’t look at me, Leesbian. It wasn’t my idea.” Vic’s porcelain-white cheeks dimpled with mischief.

“Where’s Lou?” She asked. “I haven’t seen her for ages.” At that moment Lou emerged from the kitchen with another bottle of wine. Vic waved her over. Just as I shifted my gaze from the kitchen back to the couch I saw Claire lean in for a kiss. Roz never stood a chance.

To be continued…