“Oh mothers!” Peter chided, “Rory and Gemma are like sisters. They wouldn’t be interested in each other.”
Gemma sincerely hoped her foundation was strong enough to hide any blush that might form on her cheeks. She could always put it down to the sun, she thought. Even though it was late spring, it was a blazing hot day, and she could easily burn if she spent too long in the sun. She gripped her champagne flute tighter. The last thing she needed was for the families to find out that she and Rory had slept together, even if it had been years ago.
“So, Rory, why don’t you tell us all about the exciting world of corporate law and mergers and acquisitions?” Gemma’s dad, George, asked. He owned a small solicitor’s firm in Larchester and had given Rory the push and introductions to get her started on her career in London.
“Oh well, there is nothing much to tell,” Rory replied. They had all moved to the table now and taken their seats. The fathers took the end seats with their respective wives to one side. The grandmothers sat on the side of the table in the shade, which left Rory and Gemma to sit next to each other on the side of the table in the sun. They were having their starters now and then would move on to the main course and dessert during the long interval. Rather than focusing on the delicious food they were eating, the families put both Rory and Gemma under the piercing beam of interrogation that only a family can muster, asking about their lives and careers in London. First, Rory spoke of hertime as a corporate lawyer specialising in mergers and acquisitions, and then Gemma was under the microscope about her work at a non-profit organisation.
Eventually, the grandmothers got bored listening about their granddaughters’ careers and got their heads together discussing something that neither Rory nor Gemma could hear. The conversation then fortunately moved on to the golf club, where the four parents were all members, and Rory and Gemma had a reprieve for a moment.
“Wow.” Rory snagged the bottle of white wine and filled Gemma’s glass up. “I’ve not been under this much cross-examination since we debated in law school.” She grinned, and Gemma felt her face light up at the look on Rory’s face.
“I know! I had to do an interview once for the telly about the non-profit and campaign we were working on,” Gemma agreed, “and it wasn’t half as bad as this was.”
“Oh yes, I saw that,” Rory exclaimed, “You did very well. I was impressed.”
Gemma felt herself blushing, unsure why praise from Rory filled her with so much joy. Her parents were often annoyed that she didn’t have a glittering career like Rory or some of their other friends, but Gemma was happy and proud of her work with LGBTQ youngsters.
“Where in London do you live?” she asked Rory. It felt odd that her friend was so familiar to her in many ways, but a complete stranger in others.
“Woodford, northeast,” she replied. “It’s not a bad commute to the office, although I don’t have to go in as much anymore. I travel a bit for the job and can also do a decent amount from home.”
“I share a flat with a girl in Croydon,” Gemma replied, “although she and her boyfriend are always talkingabout moving in together, so I may be looking for something else soon.” She shrugged.
“That would drive me potty,” Rory confessed. “It’s the main reason I bought my own home as soon as I could. I can’t stand the idea of moving and renting.”
“It’s okay.” Gemma replied, “Teagan and I took a while to get used to each other, but she is honestly like my best friend now.”
“I used to be your best friend,” Rory spoke softly, and Gemma strained to hear her. “I’m sorry I messed that up for us.”
“Don’t be. I was a big girl, and I knew what I was doing.”
“Yes, but.” Rory took a breath and checked that everyone else was still occupied by their own conversations. “I shouldn’t have left like that; I should have made sure you were okay. I should have stayed, I…” She took a deep breath, holding it for a moment before releasing it. “There isn’t a day that goes by that I don’t regret what I did.”
Gemma was stunned. Just as she was about to ask if Rory regretted the night they spent together or leaving her in the morning, the grandmothers piped up again.
“Why don’t we take a turn around the lake before the opera starts?” Mary asked no one in particular, “I could do with a leg stretch.”
“Oh yes.” Phyllis agreed. “I think a walk would be lovely.” Both grandmothers stood, and Phyllis waved a hand at Rory’s and Gemma’s parents. “You young ones can take care of the table, I’m sure. Rory, Gemma, why don’t you accompany us?”
Rory and Gemma smiled at each other at the thinly veiled instruction that was not a request at all. Each grandmother was a force to be reckoned with individually, and together they were a force of nature that accepted littlestanding in their way. Rory stood first and helped Gemma up from her chair. Gemma’s dress, whilst lovely and showing a lot of cleavage, was not the easiest to manoeuvre in, and she was grateful for the assistance.
Rory proffered an arm to Gemma’s grandmother Mary, who, thanks to a hip operation a few years ago, was the slightly frailer of the two. Not that either Rory or Gemma was brave enough to suggest that to the feisty woman, but it would be better for her to have Rory’s arm whilst Gemma accompanied Phyllis who needed no help thanks to her ongoing regime of walking two miles to the newsagent each day for her newspaper.
They walked together as a foursome, taking in the sights and sounds of the gardens as they went. It was still early, and the afternoon sun had lost none of its heat, so they went gently so as not to get too hot with their walk. Gemma loved being in the countryside again and loved the feeling of the hot sun warming her skin. The gardens looked incredible, and there was an excited buzz in the air as they walked. For many people, a trip to Larchester Manor Opera was a dream come true, an event they had been looking forward to for many months, if not years, and there was a happy, excited feel around the place. The lovely weather helped, and all around the gardens, people had set up their picnics.
Gemma took great delight in seeing the variety of picnics that people had brought. Some were simple plates of sandwiches, eaten whilst reclining on a rug. Others were more elaborate, with cutlery and crockery laid out on tables. Gemma smiled at a young couple who had arrived with little more than a couple of meal deals from the local petrol station and were obviously people watching as their eyes were bugging out and heads were swivelling around taking everything in. There was one very elegant group of women who had gone the whole hog and had candelabras andchina plates with silver cutlery and crystal glassware on the table. For every group, there seemed to be a different type of picnic and setup. What remained the same throughout was the feeling of togetherness and friendship that could only come from a shared experience and breaking bread together. It was a very pleasant way to spend the last few minutes before the performance started.
Gemma heard a bell tinkle gently through the gardens, indicating that the first act would start in ten minutes, and realised that they would need to return to the table and scoop up their parents. As Phyllis was more than content to walk unaided and indeed carry on a conversation with little input from her companion, Gemma had a moment to drink in Rory’s figure. She and Mary were walking just ahead, and Gemma loved to see how much care Rory was taking with her grandmother. Rory had proffered her arm to Mary as they walked around the lake, just as she had done earlier with Gemma, and she also positioned herself so that Mary was protected slightly from the undulations of the ground nearest the water. Rory’s head dipped towards the shorter, older woman, and she was nodding as if she was listening intently to what was being said.
Every so often, Mary would point at something with her stick, and Gemma could just imagine her grandmother pointing out some plant or other that she thought Rory should know about. Gemma’s eyes raked down Rory’s athletic body. She allowed her gaze to linger on the gentle swell of Rory’s hips and that gorgeous ass of hers before taking in the magnificently long legs that seemed to keep going.
When she had been a teenager, Gemma had loved to watch Rory racing around the hockey pitch in her very short shorts. Gemma had tried out for the team once, more as a way of spending time with Rory than any interest in the sport. But sheunderestimated the sheer amount of fitness that was required and was content to be an enthusiastic supporter instead. Unfortunately, she always had to share the touchline with Rory’s girlfriend, and it was Sarah who got to embrace a sweaty and smiling Rory after a victorious game or who commiserated with her after a loss. Gemma was always the gawky best friend who either had an awkward hug as an afterthought or a fist bump if Rory was too muddy. Gemma had lost count of the times that she’d had a naughty dream containing Rory and her hockey gear. As she’d matured, so had her fantasies, but they still featured Rory and those shorts but just got a lot more X-rated. Gemma gently shook her head to remove those thoughts from her mind.
“Do you know if Rory still plays hockey?” She asked Phyllis when the older woman paused to take a breath.
“Oh no.” Phyllis was almost dismissive. “I think she gave that up after university. You don’t get to be as successful as she has by wasting time running around hockey pitches.”
Gemma was sad. She had hoped that Rory would still play so there would be half a chance of going and watching her run around a pitch again. Attending a hockey game would have been a great excuse to see Rory again. Gemma smiled and allowed the kernel of hope that she and Rory could be friends again to grow in her chest. Now that they had got over the awkwardness of being apart for ten years, Gemma hoped they could make plans to meet up again after this weekend. In just a few short hours, she’d realised just how much she had missed her friend.
