“Poor Mattie resembles a drowned rat,” said Angie.
Nell’s pulse ticked faster. “Perils of the job.”
Angie turned the volume up. After ten days of abstinence, Nell was unable to resist. She turned and her eyes latched onto Mattie’s face, magnified on the TV screen. Nell’s breath caught. Mattie wore an expression Nell remembered vividly, open and keen as she spoke to the camera. That face, so familiar, one she’d seen lying on a pillow next to her, intimate and softened by sleep.
“Hungry?” asked Angie.
Nell dragged her avid gaze away from Mattie and turned to Angie, who was slicing a homemade spinach frittata into portions. “Hungry. Smells great.”
Angie placed a large slice onto a plate and pushed it across the breakfast bar to her. “I’m not talking about food.” She pointed at the TV with her knife. “I meant hungry for her.”
Nell’s mouth fell open. Had Angie taken leave of her senses? “What?”
“Just the way you were looking at her then gave you away. You weren’tlisteningto her. You weregazingat her like a starved woman.” Angie smiled gently. “And don’t tell me it’sbecause you’re suddenly fascinated with flood defence systems in the Midlands, or whatever they’re talking about.”
“I...um...” Nell ground the peppercorns onto her salad, the motion mirroring her torturous thought processes. Angie had worked it out. Sheknew.
Angie perched on a stall next to her and cocked her head to one side. “Look at Mattie’s shirt.”
Mute, Nell followed Angie’s instructions. She swallowed hard, and it had nothing to do with the spinach frittata.
“Either it’s a stunning coincidence,” said Angie, “or a certain award-winning journalist who was visiting here just a few weeks ago is wearing the exact same blouse that I gave you for your birthday.”
Trust Angie to notice. Nell had no idea how Mattie had ended up with her shirt, let alone be wearing it on national TV. She did, however, vaguely remember Mattie stripping it off her.
Angie tsked. “It’s a size too big for her. If she leans down too far, the nation will be getting an unexpected view of her cleavage.”
Small and perfectly formed. Nell tried to keep her poker face in place, but the heat warming it made it clear she’d failed.
Angie raised her eyebrow. “You’ve turned the colour of the queen of diamonds! So I was right. It is yours. How did Mattie come to have it, I wonder?”
“I wonder.” Nell’s lips curved into a reluctant smile at how pleased Angie looked. Anyone would think she’d solved the crime of the century. Oddly, though, Nell didn’t want to run for the hills. Angie knowing her truth was a relief. Wasn’t that a surprise?
“There was something between the pair of you right from that first evening in my garden. Mattie couldn’t take her eyes off you, and you were pretending not to look at her.” Angie smiled. “Then the tension between you was off the scales when I droveyou both to Dartmouth. Once I’d figured out it wasn’t work-related, sexual attraction was the most obvious reason.”
“Oh.” Nell’s fork clattered against the plate as Angie’s accurate observations took root. “Was it— Were we that obvious?”
“No.”
Nell gulped mouthfuls of sparkling water, desperate to stop her tongue gluing itself to the roof of her mouth. “I’ve never said anything about, you know, liking women.”
“Ten years ago, it wouldn’t have occurred to me, but my Rosie’s journey of self-discovery has opened my eyes to so much more.” Angie placed her hand on Nell’s forearm. “It doesn’t alter our friendship one iota. I understand, Nell. You’re a private woman, and I respect that you’re not one for shouting about your sex life.”
“Thank you.” Nell smiled. Angie’s vote of confidence made her heart soar. “I should’ve said something but, well, you know me. I’m more buttoned-up than a duffel coat.”
Angie smirked. “I suspect Mattie found a way of undoing some of those buttons.”
“Behave.” Nell tried and failed to sound outraged but being able to share this side of herself with Angie was so unexpectedly liberating.
Angie sobered. “It’s so much easier for kids who are Rosie’s age. You and I are of the generation where they/them were used as a plural and someone’s sexuality was straight, gay, or bisexual.”
Nell’s breath shuddered. “In the circles I grew up in, sexuality wasn’t an everyday topic for discussion. On the rare occasions it did come up, it came attached with a hugely toxic dose of judgement.”
Angie gestured at the untouched frittata on Nell’s plate. “That’s getting cold.”
Nell dug into it with a fork, surprised she still had an appetite. “Thank you. And I don’t just mean for the food.”
“Speaking of Rosie... She knows, about all of this,” said Angie, uncertainty about revealing the news obvious in her voice.
