Without turning on the light, Molly stood in the sitting room looking around at the space furnished only with echoes. The light and movement from the promenade cast shadows onto the bare walls. The features of the room, which were once so familiar with their soft curves and angles, had become foreign, exiled from the context of the life they were once part of.
Only a beanbag resting in place of the armchair offered a suggestion of life. Molly turned in the direction of the kitchen at the sound of the boiler firing and of the pop of the cork from a wine bottle.
“The beanbag’s a nice quirky touch to welcome the new buyer.” Molly joined Georgina in the kitchen.
“What? Oh, yeah.” Georgina shook her head and ripped at the tape securing one of the boxes set aside for charity. She pulled out two glasses and filled them with wine. “There was a brief moment where I wondered whether I could take it on the train with me, but thankfully sense prevailed. Here.” Georgina handed Molly her glass and leaned against the worktop opposite. “I kept a couple of bottles for myself from the wine merchant’s grasp.”
“Good idea. Thank you.” Molly rested her wine on the counter and climbed up onto a stool. “And I see Penguin’s still coming in useful.”
“Oh God, yes, I’m sorry, I should have returned it to you. I promise it wasn’t going to charity—there’s no way I was letting it go.” Georgina hung her head. “It was all I had of you.” She looked up at Molly with her eyes swimming with tears. “I can’t tell you how ashamed I am by my outburst and by my complete inability to see sense. But most of all I shudder at the thought of the things I said to you. In fact I don’t deserve for you to be talking to me.”
Molly shook her head. “I want to talk to you, and I can see how sorry you are. And in fact what you didn’t deserve was what happened to you at the opening. I’m not surprised you lost it—anyone would have done.” Molly paused. “It’s just, well, I thought…”
“You thought what? Tell me, please.”
“I thought you knew me,” Molly said. “More than that, though. I’m not sure I know how to explain. You see, for me everything about you felt right. When we kissed, it was like your lips were somehow meant for mine, it was so…I hoped you felt the same about me, and for a while I thought you did.” Molly fell silent with her gaze resting on her hands clasped together in her lap.
Georgina joined Molly, taking a seat on the stool next to hers. She rested her arm across the worktop, closing the gap between them. “I did. I do, Molly. Please believe me.”
Molly nodded. “I want to.”
“Then I have a confession.”
Molly’s stomach tightened at the word confession.
“I’d seen you many times in the square before we met.” Georgina glanced out to the hallway that led to the promenade and the square beyond. “You were the beautiful woman who in those last few weeks of my father’s life I found myself looking out for.”
“You did?” Molly tried to think of herself in the square and tried to imagine what Georgina might have seen and what she might have thought of her.
Georgina’s cheeks flushed with her confession. “Yes. One day you’d be feeding the birds or looking up into the sky. The next you’d be chatting away to a random person or Fran, of course. One time even”—Georgina smiled—“you were sitting in a circle with a group of schoolchildren drawing daffodils. They were utterly captivated by you.”
“I remember the daffodil day. It had been really wintery weather until then.”
“Yes, that’s right. My father had me open his bedroom window to let in the air. I brought up from his office the photo—you know, the one that he’d taken of his garden—and hung it in his bedroom so he could see it. He died a few days later.”
Molly rested her hand on Georgina’s knee. “I’m so sorry.”
“Don’t be, because it was the sight of you that brought me such comfort, and just the thought of you now keeps me believing that the world isn’t entirely bad. So”—Georgina’s voice broke—“not only does everything about you feel right, but you fill my life with hope. Hope and joy.”
Molly’s voice caught in turn as she swallowed down the emotion tightening her throat. “You know, when I first saw you, I swear my heart stopped beating.” Her cheeks tingled with the memory. “You were so striking. You were stunning. I almost didn’t think you were real. I’ve never wanted to reach out and touch someone so much.” Molly shook her head. “From that moment I couldn’t get you out of my head. And as we began to spend time together, I couldn’t wait to see you again, and then I swear I began to miss you even before we parted. I kept hoping you’d kiss me. Willing you to. So when you did…Thank God for Edith’s painting and for the Wright room for keeping you here.”
“You kept me here. I returned each time for you,” Georgina said with a calm and certain tone. “The painting was the excuse. You were the reason. You will always be the reason for me.”
Molly struggled to say, “No one’s ever said things like that to me before.”
“And I’ve never cared about anyone enough to want to say them.” Without another word Georgina kissed Molly with such urgency and passion that it left Molly in no doubt of the integrity of Georgina’s words and the conviction of her heart.
Georgina’s kisses were perfect, just like everything about her. Her lips, soft and urging, left Molly desperate for the taste of her, for the feel of her, craving Georgina with the madness of addiction. She broke away to ask, “We could go to my place? Now. If you wanted?”
“Yes,” Georgina said without a moment’s hesitation. “Or…” Georgina glanced out into the hall. She shook her head. “No, it’s a crazy idea.”
“I’m a big fan of crazy, just so you know.” Molly squeezed at Georgina’s hand, encouraging her to finish her thought.
Georgina laughed. “Okay, well, it’s just…I have a bed, not that I’m suggesting or indeed presuming—”
A bed? “What here? Really?”
Georgina nodded. “I should add it’s the bed from my childhood. It’s not quite a single and not quite a double, that kind of thing.”
“I don’t care.”
“I should probably add it creaks terribly.”
“I still don’t care,” Molly said, her heart drumming with excitement.
Georgina’s eyes sparkled in the brightness of her broad smile. “And I’d need to retrieve the sheets, pillows, and duvet from the charity bag.”
Molly laughed. “Fine. I’ll grab the wine. You grab the linen. Meet you up there.”
Molly waited in Georgina’s room lit only by the landing light. Even though the space was, all bar the bed, emptied of its furniture, Molly could still feel the presence of the teenage Georgina.
Had her father kept the room as Georgina had left it? Maybe with its posters of pop stars or a corkboard with its rash of pins hung above a desk and stickers perhaps on the wardrobe peeled off, the torn strips of sticky white paper left behind. And had a favourite teddy, love-worn and dusty, waited on the bed in vain for the return of the child who had loved it so?
Molly sighed at the thought of Georgina finding sanctuary in these four walls, distressed at her mother leaving, mistrusting and hating the world beyond.
She moved towards the window, her gaze tracing the curve of the crescent moon. A long garden stretched out into the darkness of early evening with its shape formed of shadows caught by the moonlight. It was grand and formal, and just like the house, silent and withdrawn with winter and no doubt grief.
Molly imagined Georgina as a young woman looking out from this window. Had she dreamed of her future and of who she might become and who she might one day—
“No curtains, I’m afraid.” Georgina leaned against the doorframe, her body silhouetted in the landing light.
“Right, noted,” Molly said, feeling slightly caught off guard at Georgina’s arrival. “I was just picturing you when you were young being in this room.”
Georgina stared into the space of her youth. Her attention seemed to have been caught by the light from the hallway which fell as it would likely have always fallen in long rectangles against the same wall. “My parents would leave the landing light on for me because I couldn’t fall asleep in the dark,” Georgina said, her voice hazy in the mist of remembering.
Molly moved to Georgina, reaching for her hand. “I won’t let the monsters get you.”
Georgina smiled. “Thank you. Although it was a long time ago.” She briefly looked away to the bed, and when she turned back to her, Georgina’s eyes seemed to sparkle with more than just moonlight. “I’m all grown-up now.”
“I can see that,” Molly said. “You did a good job of growing up, by the way. Perfect body.” Molly smoothed her hands along Georgina’s shoulders with her fingers catching at her collar. “Perfect features.” Molly lightly kissed Georgina’s cheeks. “Perfect everything. You’re so unbelievably beautiful.”
Her thoughts, let alone her words, evaporated into heady mists of arousal as Georgina leaned in to kiss her neck, the warmth of her cheeks pressing against Molly’s skin.
Molly held her close to her with her palms flat against the top of Georgina’s back as Georgina’s hair softly fell against her.
Georgina then awkwardly, with frustration it seemed, pulled at the sleeves of her blazer in an attempt to release her arms.
“The curse of the tailored suit, eh?” Molly teased, adding, “Let me.” Molly slipped Georgina’s blazer off her shoulders, her sleeves unrolling from her arms, leaving the blazer to fall to the floor. In a seamless motion Molly ran her fingers down Georgina’s shirtsleeves, pausing to unfix the button at the cuffs.
“Wait, just a sec.” Georgina switched the light off in the hallway, leaving the moonlight to light her way back to Molly.
“Good thinking.” Molly reached out her hand, guiding Georgina to sit with her on the bed. She turned her attention to the line of shirt buttons rising and falling against Georgina’s chest. She slowly released the top button. Georgina took a deep breath with her breasts rising against the edge of Molly’s hands.
“Tell me if you don’t want to,” Molly whispered. “If you’re not ready.”
“I’m so ready.” Georgina drew Molly ever closer. Their bodies pressed against each other. “I’ve wanted you for so long.”
Molly swallowed down the overwhelming sense of relief at finding the woman she’d longed for was here with her now saying the words she once could only dream of hearing.
One by one Molly slipped the buttons free to reveal soft white skin newly lit in the moonlight’s glow. “I can’t believe I get to do this to you.”
Georgina smiled. “That’s such a sweet thing to say when you could have anyone.”
Molly giggled. “Yeah, right. In any case I don’t want anyone. I want you.” She pulled her jumper over her head and brushed her hair away from her face.
Georgina ran her fingertips lightly down the straps of Molly’s bra, tracing the thin line of material from the curve of her shoulder to the lacy cups enclosing Molly’s breasts.
Molly trembled at Georgina’s touch as waves of arousal swept in, breaking ever more strongly against the shores of her control. It felt like her heart had swollen to fill her entire chest and that she might at any moment suffocate and drown in the swirling depths of sensation.
“Let’s…” Molly attempted to say as she guided Georgina to lie down with her, only to find that the exquisite weight of Georgina moving on top of her and the slide of her bare skin against hers stole the words from her lips.
Molly arched her back and gave a small gasp of pleasure as Georgina unclasped her bra, the material slipping away to be replaced by the warmth of Georgina’s mouth caressing her breasts and Georgina’s tongue teasing her nipples. An uncontrollable ripple of pleasure travelled along her body, igniting every nerve to fire and to burn with engulfing need.
She gripped Georgina’s body tight against hers, chest against chest, skin against skin, hips against hips, her hands slipping from Georgina’s back to the button of her trousers.
She paused breathless to ask, “Okay?”
When Georgina breathed, “Yes,” Molly eased her hand between Georgina’s trousers and underwear and over the dip at the base of Georgina’s spine to the swell of Georgina’s bottom. She squeezed the warm soft cotton of her underwear, feeling the shape of Georgina beneath.
Georgina gave a soft moan in response, pulling open Molly’s jeans, and in one unspoken action they slipped their hands between the other’s legs.
With her forehead buried into Molly’s neck, Georgina released a muffled whimper as they rocked their hips, hands underneath underwear, fingers pressing deeper with every movement.
Georgina’s breath became ever more ragged before her body tensed and shuddered. A warm wetness flowed against Molly’s palm as Georgina cried out. And then Molly stopped hearing anything. She was caught in a whiteout—engulfed in a blizzard of desperate need. She squeezed her eyes tightly shut, intense rhythms of arousal vibrating through her again, again and again, taking her to the edge, closer and closer.
The merciful sharp sweet pain of the bite of Georgina’s teeth at her nipple broke through the whiteness and sent her over to fall free with a cry of relief.
“Molly?” Georgina’s voice came into focus.
She opened her eyes. Georgina was looking at her, stroking away Molly’s damp hair from her forehead. Molly nodded, unable to think, let alone speak.
Georgina gently rolled away, her weight easing from Molly.
Eventually Molly found the breath to say, “That was…intense.”
Georgina held her close. “I want you to know it wasn’t just sex for me.”
“Me neither. It was…” Molly’s cheeks burned. “I want to say…”
“Yes?”
“Everything.”
“Then say it.” Georgina’s voice broke. “Say it, knowing I feel that way too.”
* * *
Georgina felt a ray of sunlight fall upon her face with its soft glow caressing her skin in a gentle embrace. She moved her arm, expecting to feel the warmth of Molly against her just as she’d been all night, her soft cheek resting against Georgina’s chest and her arm tightly wrapped around her waist, but instead she felt the coolness of the empty sheet.
She sat up and looked around her and blinked at the golden winter sun rising through her window, washing the white winter sky in hues of orange. She could just make out a brushing noise from the garden.
Molly?
She climbed out of bed and pulled on her clothes and went to the window.
What? Molly was sweeping garden debris into the middle of the lawn.
She unclipped the sash window and lifted it open. A shock of cold took her breath as she shouted down, “What are you doing?”
“I’ve made a Christmas star. For you. See!”
Molly stood back to fully reveal the shape of a star made up of leaf litter and finished with evergreen clippings of cedar and fir. Sprigs of holly with their bright berries had been placed at the tip of each point. It was so clever and so beautiful, just like Molly.
“What do you think?” Molly stared up at Georgina, her face bright with unmistakable joy.
“It’s amazing!” Georgina shouted down. “We need a photo.”
“Yes, good thinking. Come down and be in it with me. Oh, good morning, by the way!”
“Good morning!” Georgina turned back inside and hunted in her pockets for her phone. She could hear Molly begin to hum “We three kings of Orient are.”
Carols meant Christmas, and just the thought of it filled Georgina with a cold dread. Tomorrow was Christmas Eve. The day of the year eighteen years ago when the light somehow became duller and the rain wetter and the wind chill like never before. And from then on, joy was always tinged with sadness and laughter always ended too soon.
Georgina shouted down, “Sorry! I’ll be there in a sec.” In the last pocket she checked she found her phone only to be distracted by the symbol of a missed call. It was a Leicester number, and Georgina recognized it as her father’s solicitor. It seemed that he had tried to reach Georgina late yesterday when her attention was fixed on Molly. Only Molly. Georgina retrieved her message and held the phone against her ear. Georgina, this is Henry Fothergill. Sorry to disturb you so late on a Friday. We have been contacted by your mother with regards to the painting omitted from the bequest. I wonder if you could give me a ring back to discuss. Thank you.
Edith’s painting?
Molly arrived in the bedroom with cheeks apple red and her hair as wild as the garden. She went to the window and stared down. “On second thoughts, I think the photo may be better from up here.” Turning to Georgina she asked, “What do you think?” She looked at the phone in Georgina’s hands. “Bad news?”
“No.” Georgina hadn’t meant to sound so emphatic. She moved to Molly and retrieved a stray leaf caught in her curls. “No, not at all. Just my father’s solicitors. Loose ends and all that. I’ll ring them Monday.”
“You plan on ringing them back on Christmas Day?” Molly said with an amused frown. “Before or after the Queen’s speech?”
“Oh, right.” Georgina shook her head. “I’m so used to ignoring it.”
“You didn’t celebrate with your father?”
“He hated it just as much as me. We agreed long ago to keep things low-key when it came to Christmas.”
“So no turkey?”
“No lunch. After I moved out, we didn’t see each other over Christmas. All the Christmases before that we just made ourselves miserable thinking about my mother. So we made a pact to forget Christmas existed.”
“Blimey. Well”—Molly slipped her hand into Georgina’s—“I was thinking how about rather than ignoring it this year would you like to spend Christmas with me? We could have Christmas Eve at my place. I can’t believe you haven’t even been to mine. Anyway, it’s a tiny terrace. Think the house version of Daisy May.”
Georgina laughed. “I can picture it perfectly.”
“And then if you could bear it perhaps Christmas lunch with my mum and dad? I know it’s way too soon for you to meet the in-laws, but it’s not fair to change my plans with such short notice…” Molly shrugged.
Georgina choked back the tears of joy threatening like a swollen river from her heart. How long had she tried to convince herself that being alone at Christmas was a good thing? How long had she pretended that she didn’t care? “Yes,” she said. “I’d love to spend Christmas with you. Thank you.”
“That’s settled then,” Molly said, with a broad smile that left no room for sadness.
“Since we’re on the subject of plans.” Georgina stroked Molly’s cheek misted with early morning dew. “I wonder, do you have plans yet for New Year’s Eve? It’s just the Oberons invite me each year to their home to celebrate. If it fits for you, would you like to come with me?”
Molly said, with a voice bubbling with excitement, “Yes, please. That sounds amazing. Will there be dancing?”
Georgina nodded. “There’s supper, followed by a live band. And everyone at the party stops to listen for Big Ben and to watch the fireworks at midnight over the Thames.”
“You can hear Big Ben from their house?”
“Yes they live in an apartment on the South Bank overlooking the river.”
“Okay, as plans go, that’s properly awesome,” Molly said, wide eyed. “Thank you. I can’t wait to start the new year with you.”
That might have been the sweetest, most unguarded thing anyone had ever said to her. She struggled to say in response, “Me too.”
Molly reached for Georgina and kissed her. She smelled of the garden and of all that was natural and good.
Molly drew her lips away slowly. “It feels like there’s fireworks exploding in my heart right now in fact.” She rested her palm against her chest. “I’m so excited. Oh, wait, I nearly forgot my Christmas star. I hope the breeze hasn’t redesigned it. Oh no, we’re good.”
“I’ve got it.” Georgina took several shots.
“Fab! Shall we go for breakfast? And by breakfast I mean a Mr. Brown’s special.” Molly headed for the stairs and shouted from the landing, “Thoughts on me sliding down the banister?”
Georgina laughed. “Go for it. What the new owners don’t know won’t hurt them.”
In that instant Georgina’s heart ached and her whole body felt winded by the casual mention of the life of the house after her. She swallowed down the pain and instead thumbed through the photos. Her eye was caught again by the symbol of the missed call. Her thoughts turned once more to the message and to the question of what the solicitor had to say.
What are you playing at mother? Whatever it is it won’t work.