Coco gave her an understanding look and stroked Stella’s arm.
‘That all sounds very serious, Stella… Does all the fun really need to go?’
‘You know what, Coco, maybe you’re right. Maybe I just need someone to show me how to have fun again!’
‘Yes! And I am totally your girl! Do you think Jake feels like this too? Mr Van Ness is a lawyer too. I think he has a pretty good life. Everyday he is “entertaining clients”, while his Mrs Van Ness is stuck at home. Well, actually she is out getting her nails done most days, but I don’t think this makes her very happy. It is hard for women in marriage, no?’
The bus stuttered and stopped.
‘Oops, this is our stop! Quick!’
They tumbled into the street, laughing breathlessly. Stella was already light-headed from the vodka, so she was relieved to be out in the fresh air, able to breathe. It was starting to rain, and there was traffic everywhere. Taxi drivers pounding on their horns; people fighting over cabs as the weather set in; umbrellas knocking into one another as people rushed about. They weren’t dressed like anyone she knew. The men all had facial hair and heavy tweed coats. The women wore no make-up and she was probably the only woman within a mile who’d blow-dried her hair that afternoon. She followed Coco, a hand held aloft in a futile effort to protect her ‘do’ from the cold rain and wind, as she foraged for her umbrella in her handbag. They huddled together under the fragile umbrella and Stella quickly texted the babysitter to make sure everything was OK, then tucked her phone safely back into her bag. It was pouring. Stella could feel her feet getting wetter and knew her hair would be starting to frizz. They arrived at an unmarked door. It looked like a normal front door, so Stella assumed it was just a friend’s flat. But once buzzed in, they were ushered down instead of up. The hairs on Stella’s neck stood on end.
The walls were painted matt black and the lighting was minimal: small low-voltage bulbs hidden in red velvet shades.
‘Where are we?’ asked Stella. ‘Is this a dungeon?’
Coco laughed and they burst through a pair of thick double doors into a room thronging with laughing people, inviting ambient music and a mass of colours and styles. The atmosphere was like nothing Stella had ever seen outside a film. There were people in masks wearing headdresses of fascinators and feathers. Others were wearing long leather coats. There were bright tropical colours of turquoise and verdigris. Ana would really struggle with the dress code, thought Stella, wishing Ana was with her, but also knowing she wouldn’t be able to enjoy it in the same way if she was.
‘Welcome,’ said Coco. ‘Time to relax, forget about your worries and your strife!’
The room was decked out in vibrant colours, rich purples and deep reds. There were giggling, happy and quite frankly gorgeous girls everywhere. In the middle of the room was a circular bar, crowded but not crammed. People were just sitting and chatting on sofas that lined the walls. These were clearly Coco’s people, young, stylish, full of life – no wonder she was always so happy! There was such a relaxed vibe everywhere, no one seemed stressed. It was like being on a film set for the beautiful people. This was so different to the last drinks party Stella had attended: Jenny and Tim’s joint birthday drinks down the street – Prosecco and canapés. She’d nearly lost her mind at the banality of the chat: house prices, school logistics and local parking restrictions. She’d drunk too much and Jake and her had fought on the short walk home and he’d slept on the couch. But here she felt she could be anyone she wanted to be.
Coco returned from the bar with a ravishing six-foot blonde in silver pumps, Helmut Lang jeans and a sequinned top.
‘Enchantée,’ she whispered in the most sultry French accent. ‘I’m Renée.’
She must be a model, thought Stella. My god, those legs started at the floor and ended somewhere around Stella’s shoulder.
‘I was just telling Coco about my travel plans. I am thinking about Florence, it is such a romantic city. So much history and art and style. And the setting… the river, the bridges and cathedrals. The clothes and the food. It’s a feast of the senses, you know? Or maybe Russia!’
‘How amazing to have so many choices!’ replied Stella, making an effort not to sound bitter. ‘Russia and Tuscany though, two pretty big extremes. What are you looking for… in Russia?’
‘Do you know the Trans-Siberian railway? We read about it recently. Do you know it starts in St Petersburg and ends in Beijing? Three weeks of living on a train. Crossing a continent like that would be unforgettable.’
‘Crammed into a cupboard, sharing a sink to wash in, living so close together that you can’t escape!’
‘That doesn’t sound too bad. Of course you need to be with the right people,’ said Coco with a gleam in her eye.
They all laughed, and Stella wondered whether she’d missed some joke.
‘Well, I might as well do it while I can,’ exclaimed Renée. ‘Who knows what tomorrow holds. I’d like to think I’d try anything once.’
‘How do you travel?’ asked Stella. ‘Solo or in a group?’
‘No, no, I travel with my partner, Stef.’
‘Oh that’s great. What do you guys do for work?’
‘Oh, that is work. We’re travel bloggers,’ said Renée. ‘We get to do what we love together and get paid while we do it! We started it together, and it’s exceeded our wildest dreams. Now we just travel, take loads of photos and write up locations and issues. We are trying to persuade Coco to join us on our next adventure to spice things up!’
‘Wouldn’t three be a crowd?’
Renée laughed. ‘With Coco, no way. We’d love to have her along.’
‘Is your partner here?’
‘Yes, that’s Stef over there, the blonde under that tall Italian lamp.’
Stella’s eyes followed Renée’s gesture. Under the lamp was a petite silvery blonde, a waif with the body of a ballet dancer, dressed from foot to neck in shiny latex.
The penny dropped and Stella swallowed and quickly restored her interested and non-judgemental expression. So that was her girlfriend? Yes. They were lesbians. Yes.
They were such an unfeasibly hot couple. Like they’d been cut out of a Who’s Who column in a fashion magazine and placed together by central casting.
Stella steadied herself, took a sip of her drink. She was pleased to note she recognised it as a Negroni. ‘Cool, I see. Brilliant to have a partner who likes to travel as much as you!’ What a life they must lead, thought Stella. They were like a man’s wet dream, then realised that they must be first of all each other’s wet dream. She was, she realised, really out of her depth. Stef walked towards them and she grew more beautiful as she approached. Like a silvery Scandinavian elf with her fine features, her ice-blue eyes.
‘Hello, gorgeous,’ she whispered as she and Renée kissed. Stella saw her hand rest lightly on Renée’s arse. ‘Are you talking about me?’
‘Not exactly! Just discussing our plans.’
‘Well, you know my vote – I say we go hardcore and head to Beijing via Russia. The photos from Florence would be beautiful, if a little clichéd, but our readers will be way more intrigued by our experiences in the wilderness. Don’t you think?’