Book of Us - Short Lesbian Love Stories

Saving You Even Though I Don't Know Why

Wake up. Coffee machine on. Make up on. Saskia pulled her black designer suit jacket over her cream designer work top. It matched with her black designer pencil skirt, shoes and skin-colour tights. Her beautiful, expensive watch showed her she had just ten minutes to catch her train.

She reached for her perfume bottle and sprayed around her neck, then smothered a little fragrance behind her ears with her fingers. Preparation for the day complete, she took a moment to pause as she looked at her reflection in the mirror. She took in a deep breath, held for two seconds, and then released, completely emptying her lungs slowly and gradually. She felt still, like a river that had paused in its flow.

Suddenly, her watch began bleeping. Her signal that it was time to leave. She hooked her handbag with her left hand expertly and left her apartment, leaving her stunning view across London's rooftops behind.

On the train she pulled out her work phone and ran through her calendar appointments. She had back-to-back appointments for much of the afternoon, and some time to answer emails in the morning. She smiled, satisfied with feeling so organised, and slipped the phone back into her jacket breast pocket.

Not a vain person, but with pride in her appearance, she took one last glance at her reflection in the train windows before getting out for her station. Long blonde hair cascaded down her head and over spilled on her shoulders, all the way down to her chest. Her makeup was expertly done, and her outfit made her look the part: a lawyer at a top London law firm. The large hazel brown eyes in the reflection met her real hazel brown eyes and they stared at each other. For a moment, she questioned if the reflection was real.

A train announcement interrupted her. She hooked up her handbag in on her left forearm and departed for her office.

In the elevator up to her desk's floor, male colleagues would press up against her. Sometimes on purpose, sometimes out of necessity due to the sheer number of people using the lift. She had divorced her last husband a few months ago, but being pushed up against ambitious young lawyer men was surprisingly of little appeal to her. At her floor, she gracefully squeezed out of the lift.

The clerk for the floor called "hi" as she graced in. Colleagues held hands up and nodded to greet her, but never quite made eye contact. Everyone was immediately busy as soon as they arrived so there was little time for pleasantries. She turned on her computer and savoured the brief minute it took for it to load. She looked through the windows over the expansive view of London and its river Thames. Warm, yellowy morning sunlight sparkled in her eyes. When she turned to her computer screen she saw her large hazel brown eyes again, staring at her, as if staring at a stranger.

She shuffled her shoulders, cleared her throat and forced a smile. What was up with her this morning? She scanned through her email inbox while also taking a flick through a mound of papers that had been piled on her desk. As she scanned she caught sight of a particular email, and froze. The subject read "Beatrice is in trouble" and was from an unknown sender. She immediately clicked the email.

Hi Saskia, we don't know each other. But I'm a...close friend, you could say, of Beatrice's. She's not doing too well. Her mother died. I don't know if you knew. But she wasn't there to be with her as she died. She didn't actually find out until months later when she saw the grave. Other stuff has happened, but I don't feel I should share anything else. I think you're the only person that could get through to her right now. She doesn't respond to me anymore. Maybe go see if she's ok...? I'd be really grateful

The email had no signature. For a full minute Saskia didn't move, stuck in a flurry of thoughts. She hadn't seen Beatrice in at least two years but she had been her first love, and a re-current love ever since. Beatrice had always been a bold, energetic, charismatic, excitable soul, so she couldn't imagine her closing up and needing help. But then again, her mother... she hadn't known about her mother dying, and she could imagine it breaking Beatrice's heart, especially if she wasn't there to be with her as she passed away.