So last night was a shit-show

The text punctured Anna's semi-sleep. It was 7.06am.

Anna grunted in surprise. Last night had ended disappointingly chastely, but it'd been nice enough until the abrupt end. Nonetheless, she'd already written off anything further with the woman, so hadn't expected renewed contact. She resisted her default inclination to apologise.

Bit of a let-down. It was your decision to leave x

She slid the phone back onto her bedside cabinet and – it being Saturday – turned over and re-addressed herself to the more important matter of her lie-in. She sighed when the phone buzzed almost immediately.

Didn't have much choice

Anna flushed with irritation.

Her date had been fun and flirty online, so Anna had had quite high hopes of their first meet-up. In person, the woman had been charming and disarmingly sexy. Anna wondered if she'd been too flirty and obvious back, and had scared her off? After a generally pleasant evening, it had somehow fizzled out as they were leaving the bistro where they'd eaten, and they'd gone their ways without even a kiss – or even agreeing to keep in touch. Anna was confused: after having made an effort to leave her first-date comfort zone and be more open to developments, she wasn't sure where she'd gone wrong. She'd even turned up prepared to break a habit and have sex on a first date, if it looked to be heading that way.

She knew she'd dropped more than enough hints in that direction, so the anti-climatic ending had sent her home feeling unwanted and slightly desperate. Seemingly, she could now add being made to feel cheap into that.

She'd deleted the woman from her contacts as soon as they'd parted, and she wondered what lay behind the messages now. She avoided confrontation, as a rule, but she also wanted the woman to know she was confused – and now rather hurt.

What on earth's that supposed to mean?

You have to ask?

Anna gasped, genuinely shocked and baffled, not a little offended. She slid the phone aside without answering.

She recognised that she was actually pretty desperate for physical intimacy, and currently felt particularly unwanted. It'd been five years since she'd had anything meaningful, and recently it had been worse – now she was comfortably past thirty, every missed opportunity, every inconclusive encounter, rankled. Every date which fizzled out seemed more significant for its failure. She'd even relaxed her potential-girlfriend criteria since moving to a smaller city two months ago. But she objected strongly to being made to feel cheap: it wasn't like she'd danced a striptease on the table.

Lying back, determined to move on (again), she wondered with self-recriminatory frustration where she was going wrong: if she played it cool, she obviously came across as not interested, or even aloof; if she tried to show she was up for it, she apparently scared people off. She snuggled down under her duvet with a groan of irritated sexual frustration, and eventually managed to doze back off.

*

Getting up late, she padded around the flat in her pyjamas, continuing to ignore her phone. Late-summer sunlight streamed through the living-room window when she threw open the curtains. She watered the pot plants on her small balcony, then leant on the railing for her leisurely first cigarette, enjoying the warmth on her face. She decided she would have a day of relaxed self-care: making a virtue out of not having anyone else to consider, and pleasing herself just the way she liked.

After a substantial homemade brunch and a large pot of tea, she curled on the sofa to finish a library book she had on loan, still in her pyjamas. As the clock ticked over into afternoon, she took her time getting ready to go out. Anna derived pleasure from looking nice for its own sake, and enjoyed the process of getting there. The end effect always made her feel good in herself, despite the risk of other people thinking it was for their benefit and not her own. She'd never understood why she shouldn't make an effort with her looks, as an assertion of herself in the world.

Some subtle make-up enhanced her otherwise very dark brown eyes, and highlighted her long lashes. Cerise lipstick gave some shape to her wide, thin mouth, and she matched it with nail polish, and an enamel-inlay pendant, of the same shade. Carefully arranging her chestnut hair into a loose, casual-looking side-plait, she left the strands of her fringe loose at the front. A favourite summery dress – knee-length, button-through, in pale blue with a cherry print – picked up and set off the cerise tones. Comfortable low-heeled sandals, and a trusty old denim jacket, kept the look casual.

By the time she caught the bus into town, she was restored to an acceptance of herself, and felt much more positive about another weekend alone. She had a constructive plan: explore the Old Town and the waterfront redevelopment properly, and browse the highly-recommended market. Then she intended to revisit the place where she'd had a pre-meal drink with last night's failed date. She wanted to reclaim the space for herself, in her own mind, and defiantly sit there with a good book and one of their excellent coffees.

*

On the bus, she noticed the woman had sent more messages. The first was sent after she'd gone back to sleep:

Sorry I guess that it ended the way it did

Then, as she'd been getting ready:

Was I wrong to just leave?

Finally:

You ghosting me now??

Anna tapped the phone on her thigh, pondering whether to respond (and, if so, how). At least there was an apology of sorts. She wondered about meeting her halfway and offering an apology of her own, but for once genuinely couldn't think of any way she would've wanted to act differently.

You're perfectly entitled to that choice, if that's what felt best at the time

Thought stepping back was the best thing

Fair enough. I'm just a bit confused. Might need to take a step back from this myself...

How so?

Confused, I mean?

I felt it had been going well. Right up until when it suddenly wasn't

It flipped pretty quickly

Wanna talk about it?

Anna thought the woman had some cheek, wanting a debrief on a date she'd literally walked away from.

I've made other plans for today now

She put her phone onto silent, and fastened it away in the top pocket of her jacket. She may be desperate, but she wasn't going to let that show again.

She felt the phone buzz against her breast, but she ignored it.

*

After returning her library book and getting another, she pottered around the Old Town. A trawl of the charity shops rewarded her with a pair of jeans, two pretty tops and a nice work-suitable skirt. She lingered for a while in the covered market, with its Victorian pillars and vaulting and its chilled mix of established traders and modern pop-ups, and treated herself to some quality ingredients from the food hall. Then she took herself off into the rambling cobbled streets of the waterfront development.

The city had had a big injection of regeneration cash just after the pandemic, and it was gradually bearing fruit. What had been, in previous centuries, the bustling, working heart of the once all-dominant docks was slowly but certainly starting to bustle again, with a range of funky independent shops and cafés, bars and venues taking over the muddle of post-industrial buildings. There was something for everyone, and Anna liked it. She smoked lazily for a while in the sunshine at the edge of the old fish dock – now a marina filled with the relaxed bobbing of various pleasure craft.

Her phone buzzed in her pocket yet again. She stubbed her cigarette out with a sigh, tossing the butt into a nearby bin, and pulled it out of her jacket. The first messages had been sent while she was still on the bus:

Meant by text maybe

Not ready to meet again just yet

Then the one which had just arrived:

What you up to then?

She sighed. Why was the woman being so persistent? Still, this was the most interest Anna had had since moving here, and she felt this particular failed date needed some closure.

Lazy day of self-indulgence.

Enjoying the waterfront in the sunshine at the moment. What are you doing?

She held the phone against herself for a while, expecting a whiplash-quick reply, but there was nothing. With another little sigh, she began putting it back in her pocket, when it buzzed.

Am chilling, usual place

Downtime ;) Work tomorrow

But I told you that last night

The woman had told her nothing of the sort and, as far as Anna had gathered, she had a straight nine-to-five, but she let it slide.

Where's your 'usual place'?

Chandlers obvs

Told you that last night too

Anna swore quietly. The Chandler's was the nice bar they'd had pre-meal drinks in last night. Where she'd been planning on going to sit for a while with her book and a coffee. The woman also hadn't betrayed any close connection to the place, beyond saying she liked it; she certainly hadn't let on she was a regular. Anna stared out at the estuary beyond the marina's lock gates and pondered what to do.

The woman was taunting her, possibly edging into gaslighting territory; Anna's hackles were raised. Any other day, she'd have sucked it up and found another place, and she was no longer bothered about seeing the woman again. But the effect of their previous flirting lingered as a faint yearning for a connection with someone. For intimacy: a kiss, a gentle touch. For at least a vague chance of sex. Also, she felt the woman at least owed her an explanation.

She hated trying to have a serious conversation by text – and the world and the woman could be damned if they were going to get in the way of her plans for her own weekend of restorative selfishness. Perhaps surprising the woman in the bar would be a chance to sort things out definitively. She buttoned the phone back into her jacket without bothering to reply, and stood up with a sense of wilful determination – it was time for her to manipulate someone else, for a change. For one thing, she'd been looking forward to her coffee all afternoon, and she felt disinclined to let anyone knock her off-course. She'd walk into the place like she was entitled to be there in her own right, and face things out.

*

The Chandler's was – unsurprisingly – in an old ship outfitter's shop: handsome brickwork inside and out; a large shop-front window and the original counter – or something like it – converted into a well-stocked bar; chunky wooden tables and an eclectic mix of seating. A real mixture of clientèle. The large storage facility upstairs was now an eating area and a separate events space. During the day it was more a licenced café, catering to passing shoppers or a small crowd of regulars just hanging out; the event space held regular games clubs and the like, and in the evenings was a popular music venue. It was known as one of the town's most gay-friendly refuges, as well as being welcoming to other diverse demographics. Anna had liked it the minute she'd walked in the night before, and had marked it down as somewhere to come back to. It was easily the sort of place a single woman could comfortably be by herself, without any hassle.

Nonetheless – in expectation of her encounter – Anna felt hyper-alert as she pushed inside, and hoped she appeared confident rather than self-conscious. She scanned the room quickly, and clocked a nice-looking tomboy-femme girl with unruly collar-length blonde curls, who was perched on a nearby bar stool. The girl looked away hurriedly, and Anna sensed she'd been checking her out. Not surprising, maybe, in such a gay-friendly place.

Like last night, the jukebox was playing some relaxed soul. No sign of her failed date, though.

Anna ordered coffee and twitched the girl a smile. She nodded back and returned to tapping her cheap lighter on the bar, while fiddling with her phone with the other hand. Anna found a small corner table with only one seat – a large, old armchair – and sank into the chair. It gave her a view of most of the ground floor, but she still couldn't see her date from the night before, even after a longer look round. She frowned to herself and took out her phone, moving it aside as the young barman brought her coffee over. Out of the corner of her eye, as she thanked him, she caught the bar stool girl glance over.

Anna crossed her legs away from the bar and the girl, conscious that her dress hem was an inch or two above her knee. All her attention was focused on the presence somewhere of her failed date, but there was no harm giving the girl on the bar stool something to look at if she wanted to. She nudged her phone awake. No new message. Anna wondered if Failed Date had noticed her already, and was now avoiding her. She decided, now she'd taken the initiative in coming here, it was time to push things along. She shrugged her denim jacket off, hanging it over her tote bag of shopping on the back of the armchair. She was vaguely aware of Bar Stool Girl noticing the action, and wondered if Failed Date also had.

She considered how best to go about baiting the woman. Maybe she hadn't seen Anna come in, or – even worse – hadn't recognised her.

I liked the Chandler's

Bar Stool Girl was still fiddling with her phone, so Anna could let her gaze linger on her for a moment without being caught out. The girl was cute and would bear flirting with, Anna decided – if she showed any further interest. After all, flirting wasn't desperate or cheap, was it? It was normal, surely?

Literally where we met

Anna twitched a frown: there was something about Failed Date's texting style today which was a bit off. It wasn't how it had been while they were connecting online. And while technically they had first met here last night, they'd 'met' online beforehand. She glanced around again, and satisfied herself finally that the woman was nowhere on the ground floor. As her gaze passed around the room, she sensed Bar Stool Girl giving her a quick but attentive full-body once-over. On the return sweep, she caught the girl just finishing a lingering look at her bare legs. Their eyes met for a moment, and Anna tightened the way her legs were crossed. The knowledge she was being admired gave her a tiny pulse of pleasure deep inside. Bar Stool Girl returned to her phone.

Anna always enjoyed the feeling of being checked out by an attractive stranger in entirely natural circumstances. In her present state of heightened sensitivity, it was particularly welcome: she felt wanted again, and that felt good after last night. She still yearned to be wanted, despite her issues with Failed Date.

She stroked a strand of her loose fringe, taking Bar Stool Girl in quickly: mid-twenties, with a gentle face under her messy hair; toned, curvy body in a vest top under an open man's shirt; good legs in a pair of skinny grey jeans; old but cared-for blue DMs. The shirt could've been borrowed off a boyfriend, but in the context Anna thought not. Bar Stool Girl seemed mildly aggravated about something, alternately checking her phone and discussing something with the barman, all the while tapping her lighter. Anna felt her curiosity stir, even as she thought the lighter-tapping could get a little irritating. She shifted in her chair, taking out her book and settling back to rest it on her thigh. Twisting her necklace round a finger, she used the book as cover to watch the girl surreptitiously, while continuing to scan the room for her failed date.

Bar Stool Girl definitely flicked her a glance or two, at least one of which was a beat too long. Anna was careful to appear not to notice, but subtly altered the angle of her body more towards the girl. When she noticed the girl glance back even more often, she made a decisive move in her chair, recrossing her legs so she was angled directly at her, and could keep an eye on her without being any more obvious than she wanted to be. She felt her hem move higher up her thighs, but deliberately didn't adjust her dress.

Bar Stool Girl also shifted in her seat, propping one foot on the crossbar of her stool and turning herself more in Anna's direction.

Anna smiled to herself, for responding to the girl while still feeling irritated at Failed Date's behaviour. Was she desperate? Yes. Was she unwanted? Possibly not, if the lingering glance Bar Stool Girl had just given her was anything to go by. Was she cheap? She wasn't throwing herself at anyone, so maybe not, but she wasn't sure where the line was.

Would she let Bar Stool Girl make a move on her, if it came to it? Absolutely.

Eventually, she remembered it was her turn to text. She rested the book on her thigh, using her little finger as a page marker.

Are you still in the Chandler's?

Obvs

Where else would I be?

Anna took another good look around the room, to no avail. As she and the girl crossed glances again, it was her turn to look away, but not before she'd noticed the girl had turned on her stool to face Anna's table more squarely. Anna swung her crossed leg back and forth a little, letting the heel of her sandal slip off her foot, and, as she sipped her coffee, took in the angle of the girl's legs. They were slightly splayed, and Anna got a good idea of the shape of her full, toned thighs in the tight jeans. The pulse of interest beat a little harder inside her, and she adjusted her legs under the table to point them directly in the girl's direction. She fingered the end of her plait.

Bar Stool Girl let the hand with her lighter dangle between her thighs, casually close to her crotch. Anna felt confident they were plainly responding to each other now, and felt a sharp kick of arousal. She wondered again where she'd gone wrong the previous night, because now, for once, she seemed to be reading another woman's signals correctly.

As one of the staff took a bowl of chips to another table, it occurred to her suddenly that Failed Date might be eating upstairs, which was why she couldn't see her. Maybe even on another date, a date with someone more chilled, less desperate. The idea gave her a flutter of irritation.

Are you in company?

It was hard work, trying simultaneously to deal with Failed Date's obtuseness and navigate a potential new opportunity. She glanced up to twitch a small smile at Bar Stool Girl, but she was bent over her phone again.

No. I'm not that cheap

Anna sucked her breath in sharply – the remark had hit a nerve. She needed a time-out on Failed Date.

She took her cigarettes out of her jacket and positioned them in plain view on the table. Then she slowly uncrossed her legs, drained her coffee and pulled on her jacket. As she'd hoped, Bar Stool Girl glanced over. Anna held her eye and tapped a nail on the cigarette packet, raising an eyebrow and miming operating a lighter.

Bar Stool Girl did a double-take then slid upright, grinning. Anna gathered her stuff, and stood up to go outside with her.

*

Anna unnecessarily cupped the girl's hands to shield the lighter, and stared into her eyes. "Thanks."

The girl lit her own, and leant back on the wall to check Anna out, blowing smoke upwards. "No problem." She had a fairly thick local accent, which Anna found quite appealing despite its general reputation. The girl bent her leg up, resting her foot flat on the wall.

Anna glanced over the girl's figure, and crossed her own legs at the ankle, pressing her thighs close together inside her dress. The anticipation of a developing encounter was swirling hard inside her. "I'm new in town, but was told this was a good place." She gestured with both her eyes and her cigarette to a Pride flag in the window.

Bar Stool Girl nodded carefully, and Anna knew she'd noticed Anna appreciating her as well as acknowledging the queer-friendliness. In return, she passed an unhurried glance down Anna, then cocked her thumb at the wall. "My second home." A puff, and a flick of the eyes over Anna's lips and breasts. "How new is new?"

"Two months. I moved for work." Anna leant back against a table, partially mirroring Bar Stool Girl's body language. "So new, I still have some things in storage, round the corner from my office. I had to arrange my flat quite quickly, and while it's very nice, and also handy for work, it's smaller than I'd expected."

The girl tapped ash. "Ah, aye. Which storage?" She gestured to herself. "I work in that line."

Anna told her, and how it was on the same business park as the small head office of the firm where she was now in charge of finance and administration. "The job's a step up, hence moving."

"Give over." The girl chuckled and named the business park. "That's where I work, that storage unit."

"Oh, right." Anna smiled. Any coincidental connection is welcome, when flirting. "I should really come and deal with all my crap."

"Come whenever you like, for me." The girl looked Anna over carefully and very obviously, and dropped her spare hand to rest near her crotch again. "And sort your stuff out, I mean."

Anna liked the girl's casually erotic teasing. On top of her promising body language, it heightened the sense of being desired, which she so badly needed at the moment. "Maybe we'll see more of each other, then. I'm Anna."

"Lee."

Anna nodded and dragged on her cigarette, eyes on Lee's face. "I was actually in here last night. We had a drink before going to eat."

"Ah-huh." Lee slid her hand into her jeans pocket as she also took a drag. "We?"

"First date. Started well, ended badly. She basically just walked off after the meal." Anna pretended to brush ash off her dress.

"What an idiot." Lee waved her cigarette. "I had a shitshow first date last night, and all. Not here. We went on into town." She gestured towards the main city centre. "We bumped into an ex of hers and...well...words were had."

"Ouch." Anna stood up straight. They were getting to the end of their smokes, and would soon have to decide whether to keep chatting, or leave things where they were.

"Aye." Lee inhaled deeply, then crushed her cigarette in an ashtray. "I slipped off and left 'em to it. Not my finest hour, like. But it was shaping up to get tasty. Bit of lesbian drama...fine...but I'm not big on actual slapping."

"Me neither." Anna made her cigarette last a little longer, to keep Lee talking. "Can't you leave it behind and move on?"

Lee laughed mirthlessly. "The bitch is now gaslighting me, just 'cos I made an effort to give her a chance to explain in the cold light of day."

"Some people are very weird." Anna smiled sympathetically. "Mine texted me way too early this morning, completely like it was my fault she'd led me on then walked off." It was nice to open up so casually about a failed lesbian date. "I'm sure you can do better."

"You offering?"

Anna flushed with surprised pleasure. She liked Lee's directness, and open interest. "Er...maybe." She crushed her cigarette in the same ashtray, aware of Lee's interest and how her body was instinctively responding.

"Like your nails, by the way. They match your dress."

Anna smiled warmly. "I'm making an effort for myself today. To cheer myself up after last night's rejection."

"Cheered me up and all, if I can say so. As a side-effect, like."

"You may definitely say so."

Lee pushed herself off the wall. "Can't believe she walked away from you."

"No?"

"I'd've..." Lee gestured vaguely. Slightly suggestively. "You're gorgeous."

"You don't hold back, do you?"

Lee reddened slightly. "Just saying..."

"It's fine. Keep going."

Lee shrugged, grinned. "I've been coming here since I was legal to drink, and I'm 26 now. So, eight years? You're easily the hottest woman I've seen walk in, in that time."

Anna stepped closer, brushing Lee's arm. "Well...I'm 32, and nobody's ever said that to my face before." Their bodies brushed lightly. "After last night, it's a very welcome thing to hear." Anna hitched her bag more firmly onto her shoulder. "Are you going back in?"

"Buy you a drink?"

Anna glanced at her watch, reluctantly tamping down the buzz of attraction. "Just the one." She caught Lee's arm as the girl began turning away. "Listen, more might be fun. But maybe we should sort out our last nights first?"

Lee ran a hand through her messy hair. "Aye. Maybe best to not start off with unfinished business hanging about." Their eyes met, and something seemed to slot into place between them. 

It'd have been very easy to kiss.

As their gaze held, Anna felt her insides twist pleasurably with the certainty that they would not only kiss but sleep together, sooner or later. She followed Lee back over to the bar. "Let me get these. Buy me one next time."

Lee perched back on her stool, tapping Anna's wrist as Anna ordered two beers. "That means there's a next time."

"At least one." Anna tucked her dress under her thighs and settled herself on the next bar stool along. "For now, let's forget about last night." She crossed her legs and pressed her knee between Lee's. "I liked it when you were coming onto me."

*

Two beers later, Anna reluctantly moved Lee's hand off her thigh, where it had been creeping subtly under her dress, and stood up. "This has been nice, but I should go." She pulled her phone out and noticed there'd been no new messages from Failed Date. She grunted. "Yours been in touch?"

Lee glanced at her phone. "Nope."

"Time to push things along, get it over and done with, then." Anna smiled. "Now we've got our phones out...can I have your number?"

Lee looked rueful. "This is a work phone, to be honest. Mine's in for a new screen."

Anna shrugged. It was unconventional, but Lee's relaxed attitude, and obvious interest, pleased her. She borrowed the barman's pen to scribble her number on a napkin, slipping it into Lee's shirt pocket. Her fingers brushed Lee's breast; she stroked it lightly, sensing Lee's shiver of pleasure match her own. "That's mine. If you lose it, I'll have to come and find you at work."

*

Anna spent her bus ride home replaying the way Lee's gaze and touch had made her feel desired. She was tempted to pick up their flirtation, but really needed to deal with the lingering issue of Failed Date first.

After making something to eat and opening a bottle of wine, she finally addressed herself to the task. Being a few drinks in, she was careless.

Where did I go wrong?

Maybe leaving when you did

That's rich. You left, not me. I give up

Don't give up. I'm not who you think I am

And that's supposed to mean...?

Just what I say, Anna

Stop gaslighting me

Apparently, you're saved in this phone as a client. Like I said, mine's kaput atm x

Sorry

Should've realised. Been flaming the wrong woman x

Lee?! x

Yup x

So we've been texting each other all day, over a situation that doesn't exist x

I guess. Wasn't you I slipped away from last night x

And you're not the one who slipped away from me x

Nah xx

Why would anyone not want you? Your failed date's an idiot xx

What about yours? Are you OK? x

Her number's in the other phone. I'm an idiot for using the work one. Anyhow this is better xx

Work phone worked out, then. I'm glad we're in touch so soon A xx

Yeh. All good xx

Anna felt a mixture of emotions flood through her: relief at being rid of Failed Date so easily, pleasure at being in touch with Lee. And the delicious sense of being so frankly wanted.

What time are you in for tomorrow? xx

Aww you noticed xx

6am

Why? xx

That's early x

Anna hesitated, then knew she was on solid ground with Lee: her touch, the undisguised lust in her eyes...

Want to come by here tonight? My flat's handy for your early start xx

Are you asking me round to yours? xx

Yes. Please. If you want

I was fantasising about you on the bus xx

Hot. I've been thinking all sorts about you ;) xx

Well, then... xx

I need an early night xx

Fine by me ;) xx

;) You really wanna do this? xxx

Yes! If you do? xxx

Hell yeh xx

I like...taking turns

That OK? xx

You're the one who has to work tomorrow. I'll let you sleep at some point xxx

OMG. See you in ~35 mins Lxxx

Anna texted Lee her actual address, then leant her head back on the sofa and savoured the anticipation for a while. Then she roused herself and tidied up for receiving a new lover.