Highland Fling – An Extract from Chapter One.
“When did you last have a date?”
“Yes, a date. You know—agree to meet someone. Have a drink, meal maybe. Go back to theirs. Lez on.”
“Lez on?” Eve giggled. “Well, a couple of months back—you remember, Janie. You know, Gym Janie, who can lift her own body weight with one arm.” Eve proceeded to give an impression of someone lifting weights. “Although, come to think of it, it was less sexy than wrestle-y, one-er, two-er, three-er.” Eve shook her head at the memory.
Eve had always joked about the women she had fancied. On reflection, she could never imagine falling in love with any of them. Romances had ended before they had begun and Eve worried that she’d spoken with more affection about her childhood pet goldfish than any former lover.
It didn’t help that Eve was also absolutely oblivious to those who fancied her, prompting Roxanne to often tease Eve for her lack of gaydar skills. Conversations would frequently end with Roxanne exasperated, complaining, “What do you mean she’s just being friendly. She didn’t offer to buy me a drink.”
Seeing Roxanne’s I can’t believe you bought us cheese-and-onion crisps when I’ve just pulled expression, Eve said, “They’re my favourite. I’m sorry, Rox. I didn’t think.”
Roxanne shook her head. “That’s not your problem.”
“What’s not my problem?”
“Not thinking. You think too much,” Roxanne declared in a spirit of intervention.
“I don’t get you.” Eve crunched in reply.
Roxanne moved the crisps away. “You think too critically about the girls you like and not enough action. You’re too, how can I put it—”
“Appropriately selective?” Eve suggested with a shrug.
“You overthink things, mate—you seem to be looking for the one, when you should be looking for the many.”
“Well thank you for that observation, Nurse Barns,” Eve said, smiling.
“Don’t you go thinking that that advice is free, just because I work for the NHS. It’ll cost you a pack of plain crisps.”
Eve went a little quiet, serious.
“Look, I have a fab idea, Evie. Let’s list down what you want in a woman. You know—physical features, personality, et cetera.” Turning over a dog-eared beer mat to the less stained side, Roxanne divided the small card space into two, with looks on one side and personality on the other. “Right, what do you want her to look like? Her, of course, who is one of many.”
“I don’t know, Rox.”
Eve could discern a certain frustration in Roxanne’s voice. “Okay, well…I don’t know, maybe—”
“Spill,” Roxanne asserted. “This is no time for shyness.”
“I quite like an older woman.” Eve spoke the words into her beer. It felt very much as if she was revealing the details of a guilty crush…Highland Fling by Anna Larner