A Roll in the Hay, стр. 38

Tess didn’t recall agreeing to giving up a huge chunk of her Friday to get ready for the damn event. How much time could it take to pick out some clothes, a bit of eyeliner, and some hair product? Okay, fine, so she was a little precious about her hair when she wore it down. That part was a little time-consuming.

It also turned out Babs wasn’t kidding about making it a group event. When Tess slipped in through the back door of the pub through to the living area, there was already a gaggle of women. Some she’d seen around the village in varying degrees of biker gear or full femme fashion, and a couple were strangers. In the blur of introductions, Tess didn’t retain a single name, but the drinks were soon being passed out, and that was invitation enough.

“You brought options?” Babs asked as soon as she swept in from the bar. “Because I don’t think work jeans and a T-shirt look like you’re making an effort.”

“The jeans are nice. Tight,” one of the new girls chimed in, but she was already coupled off, leaving Tess to take the compliment at face value and nothing more.

“There’s some stuff in my bag,” Tess said, sipping at the beer bottle that Babs had handed her. “It’s barely half-six; surely we’re not heading out already?”

“No, there’s time yet.” Babs had taken up residence in a grand old armchair. She was certainly glammed up for the occasion, in a dark green dress that put her considerable assets front and centre. Her nails were painted to match. “I’m surprised you didn’t bring Margo along for moral support.

“Oh, she wanted to come,” Tess replied, unzipping her bag to find a change of clothes. “But in her condition, a whole day on your feet is apparently hard on the swollen-ankle front.”

“Having a baby had to start slowing her down eventually,” Babs said. “Go on, bathroom’s through there if you want to do your quick change. It won’t be so scary out there, Doc. We’re all just going out to let our hair down.”

By the time she was dressed, hogging the guest bathroom for as long as she thought she could get away with, Tess quite liked the look of herself. Letting her hair down—literally—offset the roundness of her face more. At least the smoky eyes with a bit of lip gloss looked like she’d done it on purpose. Margo had still had some influence, since this outfit of black ripped jeans and a sleeveless top had been her pick.

Tess re-entered the living room to a round of applause and wolf whistles that didn’t even sound sarcastic. It was a bit of an ego boost, even as she waved away the attention. “Ready?” she asked the assembled throng that, at a glance, spanned most of the queer lady spectrum.

There was a collective raising of glasses and bottles in answer.

“Okay, one more drink, then we start calling for cabs, yeah?” Tess suggested.

The collective cheer said she was on the right track.

The pub was very nice, in fairness, and Tess could see why Joan had recommended it. Far more spacious than the Thistle, it also seemed to have been decorated at some point since the end of the Second World War. They were far from the first to arrive, and Tess was impressed that a relatively small Borders town could draw such a diverse crowd on a weekend.

As she waited at the bar, she realised that tonight was something of an event. People had come from miles around. Tess imagined it was an alternative to plotting overnight plans in the big cities of Edinburgh and Glasgow.

“First time?” the barmaid asked. Her hair was bubblegum pink, shaved on one side. The nametag on her shirt, Lizzie, was affixed to just about the only unripped or pinned bit of fabric.

Tess didn’t need to look past the hotpants and fishnets to be sure there would be a beat-up pair of Doc Martens. She knew punk when she saw it. “That obvious?” Tess replied. “Mine’s a pint of bitter, and I was going to order for my friends, but they’ve already wandered off.”

“Don’t worry. You’ll get the hang of it quickly enough. Just watch out for the barflies. They get here early, and they’re just looking for someone to pick up the tab. The baby dykes tend to colonise the pool table, so proceed with caution if you want a game.”

Tess shook her head. “And if I give you my star sign, think you could pick out my soulmate while you’re at it?”

“If I could do that at a glance, do you think I’d be back here cleaning glasses? Now, you always get a few straight-girl tourists, which is ridiculous.” Lizzie pointed to the gaggle at the door who were laughing into their cocktails. “They don’t tend to be much trouble, and it gives them a night out without being chased by men. You just here to scout the scene, or are you on the pull for real?”

“You…don’t mess around with the questions, do you?” Tess accepted her drink and took a grateful sip. “I’m not sure yet. My new friend basically dragged me by the hair, so we’ll see.”

“Well, enjoy. Anyone gives you trouble, you just flag me down. Most of them know better than to piss off Lizzie.”

Tess nodded and slipped away to lose herself in the gathering crowd. She wasn’t exactly scouring for potential dates, but a few women caught her eye as she passed. She might not have had that skinny, androgynous look that always seemed to be in demand, but there were some appreciative glances at Tess that suggested a curve or two was very much in favour around here.

And there was no shortage of sassy barmaids in the Borders, either. Tess saw Babs and Lizzie comparing notes over the bar, cracking each other up laughing in the process. All over the large venue, people were already pairing off or settling