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  When You Know

  Kiki Archer

  Editor: Jayne Fereday

  Smashwords Edition - Copyright 2014 Kiki Archer

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  “When you know, you know.”

  xxx

  “When You Know,” is the sequel to Kiki Archer’s best-selling lesbian fiction novel, “One Foot Onto The Ice.”

  Chapter One

  “There’s a fine line between perception and paranoia.”

  Susan frowned. “Who said that?”

  Jenna nodded. “I did.”

  “No, I mean, where’s the quote from?”

  Jenna puffed up proudly and smiled. “Actually, it’s mine. I invented it and I even googled it once to make sure no one’s said it before.”

  Susan laughed. “I’m sure someone’s said it before.”

  “No, they haven’t. It’s mine and I’m claiming it, and I think it perfectly sums up what we’re about to go through.”

  Susan lifted her head and looked around the busy airport terminal. “Departures?”

  “No!” said Jenna. “I’m talking about your perception versus your paranoia. You’re paranoid that I’m going to run off with some ski girl, or barmaid, or chairlift operator—”

  “Or Amber,” added Susan, only half joking.

  Jenna shook her head and shunted her holdall forwards with her feet, moving fractionally closer to the busy check-in desk, aware that their queue had to snake around another four corners before they got anywhere near the front. “See, you’re paranoid I’m going to start something with Amber again.” She paused. “And I understand why. Your paranoia’s based on your perception that I sleep around.”

  “It’s not a perception Jenna, it’s a fact, and I’m not trying to be mean here, and I’m actually not worried you’ll sleep around, but you two have history. I’m worried you’ll sleep with her. Amber wants you, and not so long ago you wanted her too.” Susan took a sharp intake of breath. “Against the bar, on the bar, between her legs—”

  Jenna pressed her finger onto Susan’s lips. “Shhh. Susan, please, just shhh. You’re the one I love. You’re the one I want. You’re the one I can’t stop thinking about. You’re the one who’s given me the most memorable week ever.” She smiled. “I’m one hundred percent sure of everything.”

  Susan looked into Jenna’s deep brown eyes and sighed. “I want to believe you, trust me I do—” The finger was back, but Susan continued to talk. “I’m just a realist—”

  “Sorry, no, you’re muffled, I can’t hear you.” Jenna raised her eyebrows. “If I remove this finger will you listen? Just listen?”

  Susan noticed the gap in the queue that had appeared in front of them. “Fine,” she said, sucking her lips and bringing them back to life. “We need to move forwards anyway.”

  Jenna stayed still. “You’re the love of my life, and I’m not going anywhere.”

  Susan bent down and took hold of the bag, pushing it forwards. “Yes you are. You’re going to Morzine, for the next three months.”

  Jenna stepped in front of Susan and took hold of her shoulders. “Yes, to finish the season. My last season.” She shook her gently. “I’m choosing you, Susan. I’m choosing us.”

  Susan pulled her left arm free and checked her watch. She exhaled heavily and looked around at the crowded queue of holiday makers. Most were already wearing their big ski jackets and padded Moon Boots, eagerly anticipating their time in the snow. “You’ll be gone for three months. She’ll be there, as will all of your other lady-loving ski reps. I won’t.”

  “Paranoia, paranoia, paranoia…”

  “Maybe you’re right. But it’s not paranoia. I’m just worried. It’s a tiny niggling doubt in the back of my mind based on the things I’ve seen and the things you’ve told me.”

  “There’s a fine line between perception and paranoia.”

  “Yes, I get it, great quote.”

  Jenna grinned. “I’m teasing you, Susan. I’ve changed. You’ve changed me. There’s no way I’d ever jeopardise what we’ve got.”

  Susan took another small step forwards and waited for the latest loud echoing airport announcement to stop. She checked her watch once more. “And what have we got?”

  Jenna frowned. “We’ve got a blossoming relationship. We’ve got a shared desire to make this work.” She paused. “We’ve got love … haven’t we?”

  Susan sighed. “It’s been two weeks in total. Maybe this whirlwind’s blinded us. Maybe we should just use this time to step back from the whole situation and try and figure out what’s going on. Maybe—”

  “Whoa, whoa, whoa.” Jenna shook her head. “Stop. Where’s this coming from?”

  Susan was about to reply when she felt a sharp bang on the back of her heel. “Oww,” she gasped, looking down and realising the noisy family from behind had once again slid their skis too far forwards in the queue.

  “Sorry,” said the man, stepping over his family’s mound of luggage and bending down to retrieve the long bag. He stood back up, totally hot and bothered, all trussed up in his ski suit and hat. “Bloody check-in always takes too long. The wife told me to travel in my ski gear. She said there wasn’t enough room in the suitcase for all this padded stuff.” He looked down at Jenna’s small piece of hand luggage. “Morzine?” he asked with a frown.

  Jenna nodded. “I’m a ski rep. I’ve had a week off. I’m flying back out to finish the season.”

  The man stepped in closer, desperate for a break from his over excitable children and constantly complaining wife. “Sisters?”

  “Yes,” said Susan.

  “No,” said Jenna, at exactly the same time.

  Jenna looked at Susan and frowned. “You’re my girlfriend.”

  Susan blushed. “Sorry, I wasn’t thinking.” She coughed and lowered her voice. “But we don’t really need to announce it over the Tannoy, do we?”

  “Girlfriends, eh? You’re brave, love,” said the man, directing his attention to Susan, “letting her loose on the slopes. Haven’t you seen that programme, Snow, Sex, and Suspicious Parents? It’s always the ski reps who end up getting off with those young kids.” He grinned at Jenna. “But hey, what happens on the slopes stays on the slopes, right?” He nodded his head backwards. “I used to have a real life before my wife came along and put a dampener on things.”

  Jenna couldn’t avoid focusing on his perspiring red cheeks. “It’s my last season. I’m moving back in April and I’m re-training as a teacher.”

  “If you get accepted,” added Susan.

  “What? What is this?” asked Jenna, completely confused.

  “CARL!” The shout was loud. “Would you PLEASE get the passports out? We are NEARLY at the FRONT of the queue.”

  The man looked at Susan and Jenna and rolled his eyes. “She always does this. Makes me stand in this bloody queue, with my bloody ski stuff on, holding all of the bloody documents, well before we even reach the bloody check-in desk.”

  “CARL! It’s moving! Would you PLEASE get the documents out? AND the passports. AND we reserved our seats so you’ll need that evidence too. Jackie’s having a meal on the plane, and she’s asked f
or the vegetarian dish so we’ll need to show them the paperwork for that as well.”

  The man lifted his woolly hat and wiped his forehead. “Yes, darling,” he said, forcing his smile as he flared his nostrils.

  Jenna watched him clamber back over the piles of luggage before turning to Susan and shaking her head. “Sisters?”

  “We don’t need to tell strangers our business.”

  “We’re a couple, Susan. I’m proud to call you mine.”

  Susan pushed Jenna’s bag with the inside of her foot, rounding the final corner. “I don’t want to force you into anything.”

  “Hey! I flew over here, of my own accord, to give you that ridiculously expensive thimble for your really rather cute thimble collection, because I love you.”

  Susan shrugged. “It’s been two weeks.”

  “Yes, and when you know, you know.”

  “I know you’ve got three months of temptation ahead of you.”

  Jenna shook her head. “Susan, what is this? Should I take offence, or are you having doubts?”

  “I’m just trying to be realistic.”

  “Why haven’t you mentioned this before? Why leave it to the last minute?” Jenna dropped her eyes to her holdall. “Fine, you go off and play the field. Let’s see where we’re at when I get back.”

  “Is that what you want?”

  “No!” said Jenna. “But it’s sounding like you do!” She looked at the group of young men who were being called to check-in, obviously off on some sort of skiing stag do, and already rather merry. “We’re checking-in next and we’ve still got some time for a coffee. We need to get this sorted, Susan. We need to know the rules.”

  “So you do want flexibility then? You do want your final few months of freedom?”

  Jenna shook her head even harder. “No, Susan! I want you!”

  “NEXT.” The shout was high pitched and official.

  Jenna picked up her hand luggage, feeling incredibly flustered, wondering where on earth Susan’s outburst had come from. She tried to smile at the dolled-up check-in lady, but failed. “I’ve only got one piece of hand luggage,” she said with distraction.

  “Flying to Morzine?”

  Jenna took her eyes off Susan and nodded. “Yes.”

  The lady looked at both women. “Flying alone?”

  “Yes.” Jenna reached into her jacket pocket for her documents.

  “Did you pack your own bag?”

  “Yes,” nodded Jenna, handing over her passport.

  “Would you like me to check the weight of your hand luggage?”

  “No, it’s fine. I only flew over last week.”

  “We have a strict weight restriction of five kilograms for hand luggage.”

  “It’s fine, I always use this bag.”

  “You haven’t bought anything, or added to your luggage while you’ve been over here?”

  “No.”

  The lady handed Jenna’s documents back to her and pressed the button to print out the boarding card. “Departures to the left.”

  Susan angled her body away from the check-in lady and widened her eyes at Jenna. “The things,” she mouthed.

  Jenna frowned and mouthed back. “What?”

  Susan whispered. “In your bag. The things we bought. Maybe you should get it weighed. You don’t want them opening your bag at departures.”

  The check-in lady tore the boarding card from the printer but didn’t hand it over. “Everything okay?”

  “Yes,” said Jenna, suddenly catching on. “Actually, I’d like you to weigh my bag please.”

  “Did you pack it yourself?” asked the lady staring at Jenna, then Susan, then back at Jenna again.

  “Yes,” nodded Jenna, lifting it onto the belt.

  The lady pressed a button and tapped a long nail on the top of the digital screen which was flickering between 5.0 and 5.1. “You’re point one of a kilogram over.”

  “Hardly,” said Jenna, watching the numbers come to a final standstill. “It’ll be okay, won’t it?”

  The lady pursed her red lips. “We have a strict five kilogram limit on hand luggage. There’s a forty pound charge if you want to increase your allowance.” She tapped the screen again. “Five point one.”

  “What? That’s outrageous.”

  “Company policy.”

  “My ticket didn’t cost much more than that.”

  “Exactly,” announced the lady with authority. “The airline has a right to recoup its generosity.”

  Susan stepped in. “It’s fine. Let’s go for a coffee and we’ll sort through your bag. I’ll keep hold of some things if necessary.”

  “No, I need everything. I only brought the bare essentials with me.”

  Susan widened her eyes again. “I’m sure there are a couple of things I can take.”

  “Did you pack your own bag, Madam?” asked the lady once more.

  “Yes, it’s fine. I’ll get it sorted before I go through to departures.”

  The lady spoke haughtily. “You’ll only get sent back here, to the back of this queue, to purchase additional allowance. Is there anything in your luggage I need to know about?” She looked Susan up and down. “Has this lady asked you to carry something on board? Do I need to call security?”

  “No! Of course not.”

  “Would you mind opening your bag for me please, Madam?”

  “No, it’s fine, we’ll sort it out.”

  “Madam, open your bag please.”

  “Fine,” said Jenna, unzipping the worn holdall. She rummaged around and pulled out two items. “Susan, could you hold these please?”

  Susan gasped as the two different shaped dildos were thrust into her hands. “Jenna!”

  “There,” said Jenna, watching the numbers flash on the screen. She glanced momentarily to the left where the sweaty man from the queue was on his hands and knees at the check-in desk, shifting items of clothing between two open suitcases. Jenna ignored the temptation to listen to his wife’s latest lambasting, and turned to the screen instead. “Under five kilograms,” she announced with pride. “Departures to the left, you say?”

  The check-in lady was open mouthed.

  “Thank you for your assistance,” added Jenna, zipping the bag back up. “I’ll just carry these on.” She took the dildos from Susan’s shaking hands and thrust one in her left jacket pocket and one in her right, leaving the ends poking out like two cocks in a brothel. “Coffee?” she said, with a nod of her head.

  Susan stumbled after her, unable to form her words properly. “T-T-The blue one,” she said, eyes fixed on the action. “It’s, it’s on.”

  Jenna kept her pace brisk and her head high, ignoring the party in her pocket. “Just walk, Susan, just walk.”

  Chapter Two

  Susan shook her head. “You cannot possibly board the plane with two dildos sticking out of your jacket pocket.”

  “Why not?” asked Jenna, taking a tentative sip of the creamy mocha. “It’s no different to carrying on an iPad, or having a kid’s plastic toy in your pocket.”

  “Because you look like John Wayne with two pistols ready for the draw. Honestly, Jenna, you walked up to that coffee counter like a cowboy entering a saloon.”

  “They don’t bend. It’s not like I can double them over.” Jenna pushed Susan’s hot chocolate across the table. “Don’t let it get cold.”

  Susan left the cup where it was. “Please, we’ve only got ten minutes. I don’t want you carrying them onto the plane.”

  “Why not?”

  Susan blushed. “You know why. They’ve been—”

  “Everywhere!” Jenna started to smile. “That’s why I’m taking them with me. I want to remember this crazy, sex-filled week of ours.”

  “And you need to board the plane with those things to remember?” Susan lifted her eyes to the large departures screen. “Please, Jenna, they’ll be calling your gate soon and you’re not even past security.”

  “Fine,” sighed Jenna, drawing the tw
o dildos from her pockets and plonking them onto the table. “You take them.” She smiled cheekily. “On one condition.”

  Susan threw her arms on top of the toys. “Are you deliberately trying to embarrass me?”

  “The condition is, I want to see them at least twice a week via Skype.”

  Susan swept the toys onto her lap, coughing as she tried to disguise the squeaking noise of the rubber as it moved across the metal table. “What am I meant to do with them?”

  “You’re pretty confident already if my memory serves me correctly.”

  “Jenna! I’m talking about now. My bag’s too small and my pockets are tiny.”

  “Shove them under your jumper, walk to your car and put them in your glove box. When you get back to school nip into your apartment and get a carrier bag or something.” Jenna grinned. “Then tonight, when we Skype, you get them out and show me what I’m missing.”

  “I knew we shouldn’t have bought them.”

  “Bought them or brought them here?”

  “Both!”

  Jenna lifted the discarded plastic mocha lid from the table and pushed it back onto her cup. “You said we could sex-Skype and FaceTime-fuck every other evening.”

  “Is this all we have? Is this all we’re about? Sex? Just sex?”

  Jenna frowned. “What? Why are you saying this?”

  Susan pulled herself further under the table, hiding the weight on her lap. “We haven’t spent a single minute this week talking about the rules, and now we only have seconds before you disappear for three months.”

  Jenna reached across the table and took hold of Susan’s hands. “We haven’t needed to talk about any rules. We’re both on the same page. We love each other. We’ve found that magical thing that everyone always talks about. We’ve found true love. We’ve found real love. We’ve found the kind of love that catches you off guard and sends a crazy, warm, excited buzz straight to your heart when you’re least expecting it. We’ve found the person we want to commit to. The person we want to build a future with.” Jenna paused. “We haven’t spoken about it because we don’t need to speak about it. We feel it, Susan, and feelings always hold so much more power than words. I mean, listen to me waffling on. I can’t do justice to what I feel with words alone. It’s in my eyes, it’s in my heart, it’s on my lips, it’s at the tips of my fingers as I hold your hands. It’s love, Susan, and I’ve never felt anything as strongly or as passionately before.”