Page 25 of Swiping Right (and other disasters)

“I’ve never met you.”

“No, but I know you only want the best for our Chrissie,” she said, her hand now moving back down, to her heart.

“She’s not ‘ours’. She’s definitely not mine,” said Kiera, feeling so brittle now that she thought at any moment she might shatter.

“You’re so progressive. You’re right, she’s her own person. Thank you,” said Athena, smiling warmly.

“You’re welcome,” said Kiera, the English reflex making her want to gag a moment later. As she turned to walk away the words ‘you’re welcome’ echoed round and round in her head. She wasn’t welcome, definitely not in her house or with her wife.

That evening she recounted her experience with Lou over a bottle of wine in the Vine.

“You actually said that?” said Lou.

“Yes, I know, it’s ridiculous, but I did.”

“She’s a total cuckoo, invading your life and taking it over. Not, I might add, that you’d be better off if you’d stayed with Chrissie. Totally away with the bloody fairies,” said Lou.

“Depressingly, that is how it would seem.”

“I mean, how dare they, carrying on as if you haven’t been pushed out of your own home.” After half a bottle of wine, Lou was on a roll, and launched into a tirade which included virtually every insult Kiera had ever heard. “Well, sod her,” she said, as her diatribe drew to a close. “You’re better off out of it.”

“I really am. But somehow I feel like I’ve walked away with nothing. I feel empty.” Lou pursed her lips and poured Kiera some more wine.

“You’ve walked away with your dignity and your freedom. Don’t allow her to make you feel small. You’re a superstar.”

Kiera allowed herself a smile. “Maybe a little one.”

“A huge one! You’ve managed to walk past that wretched house on your way to work for weeks now, and you’ve not yet chucked anything at the front window.”

“The thought hadn’t even occurred to me,” said Kiera, although now she was trying it on for size.

“You need to get in touch with your inner rage, hun. It will do you the power of good.” Lou drained her glass. “Come on.” She stood up.

“Where are we going?”

“I need a wee, and a kebab, in that order.”

“Deal,” said Kiera, laughing. Twenty minutes later they were walking along the High Street with their kebabs, leaving a trail of iceberg lettuce and sauce in their wake.

“Come on then, inner rage. I haven’t forgotten,” Lou reminded her.

“Well,” said Kiera, through a mouth full of meat and tomato, “I feel very cross.”

“Nope, not good enough. Come on, what would you say to her if she was right here, right now?”

“I’d tell her to fuck off out of my life.”

“And? Come on,” said Lou, ushering Kiera towards a bench in the small square by All Saints Church. “Look at that pigeon over there.” It was pecking at the droppings from their kebabs. “That’s Chrissie. Tell her what you really think.”

Kiera took a deep breath.

“Ok, ok. You are not good enough for me. You never were. You were on your best behaviour until you weren’t, and you don’t know how to love me. Or anyone. I gave you my whole life and you just discarded it as if it was worthless. Well, it’s not. I am better and braver and stronger than you and I will rebuild my life; you just watch me. One day you’ll see what you did and you will be ashamed. Once we’ve sorted the house and the paperwork and the divorce, you will never see or hear from me ever again. I won’t be your friend, I won’t condone the way you have treated me. I hate you and I deserve so much better than you, and I will get it.”

“Wow,” said Lou, ketchup dripping from the corner of her mouth. “That was amazing. You should totally say that to her when you next see her.”

“Ha. I don’t think so. Remember, she thinks I’m a toxic part of her life. She doesn’t care what I think.” Kiera looked down at her kebab. “I’m not sure I can eat the rest of this.”

“Yeah, they always smell better than they taste. Come on.”

---