Page 61 of Paradise Pride

“Don’t push it, junior,” Meghan joked. “Yes, I have gone there. I kissed a girl and I liked it,” she added, trying to relate to Ashton’s generation. “And I’ve done a lot more than just kissing.”

Ashton laughed too. “And you want more?”

“Not with just anyone. Not right now, anyway. As I said, I don’t really know why I’m here. I guess I’m trying to find myself or something.”

“That’s admirable.” Ashton set her beer aside and clapped her hands together. “And where is ‘the girl’ in question now?”

“Far away and she wants nothing to do with me.” Meghan shrugged.

“Ouch. That must hurt.”

“It does,” Meghan admitted. “But I wasn’t ready.”

“Hey, it’s not your fault. Take as much time as you need,” Ashton said. “You’re here and that’s a start. Welcome to the wonderful world of women, baby dyke.”

Meghan chuckled. “What does that make you? A foetus dyke? Because I’m pretty sure I’m old enough to be your mother.”

“It’s just an expression. You’re finding your purpose in life.” A blonde woman walked in, and Ashton followed her with her eyes. “And I think I’ve just found mine. Excuse me for a moment, will you?”

60

Florence

It was on days like these that Florence wished she had a car. Her mother, who was taking her to the airport, had clients today, so she’d asked Florence to meet her at her practice in Altea. Dragging her three cases onto the bus while balancing two weekend bags on one shoulder, Florence groaned as she searched for her bus pass in her pocket. As she pulled it out, her crystal fell out too, and for a second, she worried it was broken. A queue was gathering behind her, and as she bent down to pick it up, one of her suitcases fell over, blocking the aisle.

“Sorry about this. I’m moving,” she said in Spanish so the driver wouldn’t mistake her for a tourist and curse at her. She tapped her pass and pulled her luggage to the standing area in the middle of the bus, then let out a long sigh as she studied her crystal. Was she worried about it now? That was ridiculous, but the truth was, shehadbeen carrying it around with her, and just knowing it was there gave her a sense of comfort. It wasn’t chipped, and it didn’t look ‘injured’ in any way, so she gave it a stroke as a weird form of apology, then put it back in her pocket. She’d never admit to her mother it was growing on her; that would defy all the rebelling she’d done over the years. It would also mean she’d get bombarded by information she wasn’t particularly interested in, and there would be no end to it. No. Against all odds, this crystal would be her dirty little secret.

The bus drove past Paradise Hotel and bars she’d spent many nights in. She’d be back again, but saying goodbye to Spain was always painful. During the journey, she seriously considered Stella’s proposal to become part of the full-time staff at Paradise. If she did, she’d never have to start over, and she’d never have to go through this difficult and chaotic time of year again. She could find a flat, have a real home, settle down and build a life. There was only one thing pulling her back to London, and that was Meghan. Kim had called her and told her Meghan was still completely hung up on her, and she’d begged Florence to come to her birthday dinner tomorrow. Florence wanted to see her again, but she wasn’t convinced it was a good idea. Meghan would probably freak out the moment she saw her and fall back into her old habits of hiding. In fact, she was worried Meghan might freak out last-minute and avoid her own birthday party if she knew Florence would be there.

“Altea station,” the bus driver shouted as the bus came to a halt on the main square.

Florence dragged her suitcases out of the bus and pulled them in the direction of the small crystal practice located in a narrow street off the square. Apart from the occasional staff pizza night at Stella’s house, she hardly ever came to Altea, as she had no reason to, but she liked the small town that was riddled with antique stores and art galleries. Maybe she would move here if she accepted her contract. She’d be closer to her mother, and it seemed like a friendly community.

The crystal practice, calledPure Therapy, was wedged between a florist and an odd little gallery that sold portraits of dogs. Big chunks of amethyst and quartz were displayed in the window, along with a terribly dated photograph of her mother wearing a purple cape and holding a clear crystal in front of her chest like she was some kind of psychic. Nevertheless, she had a lot of repeat customers, and even some of Florence’s colleagues came in for a session from time to time.

“Hi, Mum,” she said, keeping her voice down as she let herself in and stowed her cases behind the till.

“Hi, honey. I’ll be right there,” her mother whispered from behind the curtain at the back of the store. Besides offering crystal therapy, she also sold crystals and crystal jewellery, and the small space was packed with display cabinets and tree branches that held bracelets and necklaces—or talismans, as her mother called them.

Florence picked up one of the silver chains with a single, green crystal attached to the end. It was simple and pretty, and she wondered if Meghan would like it.

“Thank you. I feel so much better already.” A woman appeared from behind the curtain, followed by her mother. “I’ll be back soon.”

“Anytime, Abby. Just give me a call.” Her mother took the woman’s payment, then waved her out. “And be mindful of your throat chakra. Try to hold a few days of silence. It will do you good after the session.”

“Silence? Are you telling her not to speak?” Florence stared after the English woman now conquering the cobbled street on her high heels.

“Abby gossips a lot, so there’s no harm in a few days of reflection. She might come to insights I can’t give her directly, as it would be rude to comment on her tittle-tattle.” Her mother smiled and gave her a hug. “I can’t believe you’re leaving already. This season has flown by.” When she stepped back, she noticed Florence was holding the necklace. “Do you like that one?”

Florence glanced at it and hesitated. “It’s beautiful, but it’s too much for me. I don’t wear jewellery apart from the small bracelets you gave me.” She held up her wrist to show the leather band with a green crystal she’d put on to please her mother.

“Still, you were drawn to it,” her mother said. “I could tell you all about which ones would be suited to you, but in the end, sometimes crystals choose us, not the other way around. It was calling to you, honey.”

“I’m not so sure about that,” Florence said. “I’d never wear it.”

“Then maybe you’re supposed to give it to someone.” Her mother took it from her, found a velvet pouch under her counter and dropped it in. “Take it. Do you know what it is?”

“Jade?”

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