euphoria of the day’s action was tangible. The film crew was still around, and not even the news that the dozen women who had made it to the silos had been charged with criminal damage and trespass could diminish the high that had infected everyone.
But there was a change in attitude since Lindsay had first encountered the peace women. It was noticeable that far more women were advocating stronger and more direct action against what they perceived as the forces of evil. She could see that Jane and several other women who’d been with the camp for a long time were having a struggle to impress upon others, like the headstrong Nicky, the need to keep all action non-violent and to minimize the criminal element in what they did. Eventually, the meeting was adjourned without a decision till the following afternoon.
The rest of the day passed quickly for Lindsay who spent her time walking the perimeter fence and picking up on her new friendships with women like Jackie. Lindsay appreciated the different perspectives the women gave her on life in Thatcher’s Britain. It was a valuable contrast with the cynical world of newspapers and the comfortably well-off life she shared with Cordelia. Jackie and her lover Willow, both from Birmingham, explained to Lindsay for the first time how good they felt at the camp because there was none of the constant pressure of racial prejudice that had made it so difficult for them to make anything of their lives at home. By the time Lindsay had eaten dinner with Cara and Deborah, she knew she had made a firm decision to stay. By unspoken consent, Deborah took Cara off to spend the rest of the night with her best friend Christy in a bender she shared with her mother Josy. When she returned, she found Lindsay curled up in a corner with a tumbler of whisky.
“Help yourself,” said Lindsay.
Deborah sensed the tension in Lindsay. Carefully, she poured herself a small drink from the bottle on the table and sat down beside her. She placed a cautious hand on her thigh. “I’m really glad to be with you again,” she said gently. “It’s been a long time since we had a chance to talk.”
Lindsay took a gulp of whisky and lit a cigarette. “I can’t sleep with you,” she burst out. “I thought I could, but I can’t. I’m sorry.”
Deborah hadn’t forgotten the knowledge of Lindsay that six hectic months had given her. She smiled. “You haven’t changed, have you? What makes you think I wanted to jump into bed with you again?” Her voice was teasing. “That old arrogance hasn’t deserted you.”
Outrage chased incredulity across Lindsay’s face. Then her sense of humour caught up with her and she smiled.
“Touche. You never did let me get away with anything, did you?”
“Too bloody true I didn’t. Give you an inch and you were always halfway to the next town. Listen, I didn’t expect a night of mad, passionate lovemaking. I know your relationship with Cordelia is the big thing in your life. Just as Cara is the most important thing in my life now. I don’t take risks with that, and I don’t expect you to take risks with your life either.”
Lindsay looked sheepish. “I really wanted to make love with you. I thought it would help me sort out my feelings. But when you took Cara off, I suddenly felt that I was contemplating something dishonest. You know? Something that devalued what there is between you and me.”
Deborah put her arm around Lindsay’s tense shoulders. “You mean, you’d have been using me to prove something to yourself about you and Cordelia?”
“Something like that. I guess I just feel confused about what’s happening between me and her. It started off so well-she made me feel so special. I was happy as a pig. Okay, it was frustrating that I was living in Glasgow and she was in London. But there wasn’t a week when we didn’t spend at least two nights together, often more, once I’d got a job sorted out.
“We seemed to have so much in common-we liked going to the same films, loved the theatre, liked the same books, all that stuff. She even started coming hill-walking with me, though I drew the line at going jogging with her. But it was all those things that kind of underpinned the fact that I was crazy about her and the sex was just amazing.
“Then I moved to London and it seemed like everything changed. I realised how much of her life I just hadn’t been a part of. All the time she spent alone in London was filled with people I’ve got the square root of sod all in common with. They patronise the hell out of me because they think that being a tabloid hack is the lowest form of pond life.
“They treat me like I’m some brainless bimbo that Cordelia has picked up. And Cordelia just tells me to ignore it, they don’t count. Yet she still spends great chunks of her time with them. She doesn’t enjoy being with the people I work with, so she just opts out of anything I’ve got arranged with other hacks. And the few friends I’ve got outside the business go back to Oxford days; they go down well with Cordelia and her crowd, but I want more of my life than that. And it never seems the right time to talk about it.
“About once a fortnight, at the moment, I seriously feel like packing my bags and moving out. Then I remember all the good things about her and stay.”
Lindsay stopped abruptly and leaned over to refill her glass. She took another long drink and shivered as the spirit hit her. Deborah slowly massaged the knotted muscles at the back of her neck. “Poor Lin,” she said. “You do feel hard done by, don’t you? You never did understand how compromise can be a show of strength, did you?”
Lindsay frowned. “It’s not that. It just seems like me that’s made all the compromises-or sacrifices, more like.”
“But she has too. Suddenly, after years of living alone, doing one job where you really need your own space, she’s got this iconoclast driving a coach and horses through her routines, coming in at all hours of the day and night, thanks to her wonderful shift patterns, and hating the people she has to be nice to in order to keep a nice high profile in the literary world. It can’t be exactly easy for her either. It seems to me that she’s got the right idea-she’s doing what she needs to keep herself together.”
Lindsay looked hurt. “I never thought I’d hear you taking Cordelia’s side.”
“I’m not taking sides. And that reaction says it all, Lin,” Deborah said, a note of sharpness creeping into her voice.
“I’m trying to make you see things from her side. Listen, I saw you when the two of you had only been together for six months, and I saw you looking happier than I’d ever seen you. I love you like a sister, Lin, and I want to see you with that glow back. You’re not going to get it by whingeing about Cordelia. Talk to her about it. At least you’re still communicating in bed-build on that, for starters. Stop expecting her to be psychic. If she loves you, she won’t throw you out just because you tell her you’re not getting what you need from her.”
Lindsay sighed. “Easier said than done.”
“I know that. But you’ve got to try. It’s obviously not too late. If you were diving into bed with me to prove you still have enough autonomy to do it, I’d say you were in deep shit. But at least you’re not that far down the road. Now, come on, drink up and let’s get to bed. You can have Cara’s bunk if you can’t cope with sharing a bed with me and keeping your hands to yourself.”
“Now who’s being arrogant?”
Lindsay stood by the kettle waiting for it to boil, gazing at Deborah who lay languidly in a shaft of morning sunlight staring into the middle distance. After a night’s sleep, the clarity she had felt after the conversation with Deborah had grown fuzzy round the edges. But she knew deep down she wanted to put things right between her and Cordelia, and Deborah had helped her feel that was a possibility.
She made the coffee, and brought it over to Deborah. Lindsay sat on the top of the bed and put her arms round her friend. Lindsay felt at peace for the first time in months. “If things go wrong when it comes to court, I’d like to take care of Cara, if you’ll let me,” she murmured.
Deborah drew back, still holding Lindsay’s shoulders.
“But how could you manage that? With work and Cordelia and everything?”
“We’ve got a creche for newspaper workers’ kids from nine till six every day. I can swap most of my shifts round to be on days, and I’m damn sure Cordelia will help if I need her to.”
Deborah shook her head disbelievingly. “Lindsay, you’re incredible. Sometimes I think you just don’t listen to the words that come out of your mouth. Last night, you were busily angsting about how to get your relationship with Cordelia back on an even keel. Now today you’re calmly talking about dumping your ex-lover’s child on her. What a recipe for disaster that would be! Look, it’s lovely of you to offer, and I know she’d be happy with you, but I hope that won’t be necessary. We’ll look at the possibilities nearer the time, and I’ll keep it in mind. What counts is
