#lindiwe in camelot

[chancedarling]

Lindi does actually manage to surprise him again - spouting out a quick definition that definitely sounds like jargon by rote. Something she's memorised?

"Is it?"

He replies, appearing slightly incredulous as she strings out the quote about kidnapping. So where did that come from? Sounds like she's got a background where legal jargon and - precise - definitions came into it. Something in law, or the courts? Or enforcement maybe? As close as Chance ever really came to any kind of legality was his 'front' for the significantly dubious activities that fell into a rather 'murky' soup of legitimacy.

"N-no... I don't think anyone did. Does it still count as kidnapping if they let you go? Because... I mean... They kinda let us go... But... I dunno where we are... Is... Is that the same thing?"

Isn't that what… criminals do

Yep. (Well, he kinda does). Chance doesn't know whether she's correct, but he hopes that she is. He's very, very interested in meeting whoever is behind this. How? Why?

There's just a nod as she confirms the day - that part he was being honest about at least. Friday and pizza with a little online gaming... Maybe not the kind of online gaming she'd assume, but it's as honest as he needs to be in this moment. Either way... Chance is being his observant little self. She learns by rote. She's precise. Maybe involved in law or enforcement. She's also taking notes. Keeping track. Logging... Jotting down...

Useful. Her own little perspective on the situation and the people.

Chance, however is still giving his best rabbit impression, looking moderately uneasy at the suggestions, but appearing as though he's wholly buying into them. That she could be right about everything (and this point, she really could, he has no evidence at all to the contrary so every theory was viable until it wasn't).

But as she mentions pizza, he swallows hard. Makes a show of shaking himself off and bolstering enough courage to stand. Being very careful not to topple the cassettes again (even though it was hardly an accident in the first place) and he just nods, as though Lindi has provided him the perfect distractions from their conspiracy talk.

"Pizza. Yeah. I could definitely go f-for some pizza about now."

Clutching those scratchy linens close he stands. And he's not enought of an arsehol to go charging out, so he waits for her to leave first and pads along behind.

Buffet aside. She's definitely given him some food for thought...

FIN.

Lindi shrugged as Chance mumbled about his music taste, in that fake-rambling way that Paige and her teen friends did when they didn't want to explain to her why they were laughing so hard over a Cards Against Humanity card or an obscure TikTok featuring bizarre Gen Z slang. Maybe his music tastes were embarrassing. Like dubstep, or emo, or K-pop. K-pop wasn't that bad though, she could bop to Dynamite. But, whatever, Lindi was used to being in a state of constant anxiety, worrying about what other people thought of you, so she gave Chance an understanding nod and hum, motioning for him to flick through the tapes.

She also knew a thing or two about nerves making you fumble, so she gave a soft, "Oh dear!" when he sent the cassette tapes scattering across the floor. She crouched down to help Chance put the cassette tapes away, no longer worried about Chance's favourite tunes beyond the piece of small talk it had been.

Lindi turned over a cassette tape by Seal, idly humming the time of Kiss From a Rose, while Chance more seriously considered her musings about being kidnapped. "What are the other alternatives?" Lindi asked, smile tight. "Kidnapping is defined as being taken by force or fraud without consent or reasonable lawful excuse." She shrugged, looking about this warehouse. "I sure as hell did not consent to this."

Her next suggestion had truly shocked him, and Lindi almost wished she could grab the words and yank them back. She couldn't let herself spitball while considering the possibilities, not with poor Chance gawping like that, eyes wide and anxious. "I-I don't know…" She tried to reassure him, putting away the cassette tapes into the holder, taking the time to orgsnise them pleasingly by spine colour. "Isn't that what…" serial killers, "criminals do sometimes? Ingratiate themselves into the investigation, so they can stay close to it?" Lindi said, worried that she'd gone too far. Chance had a sort of glazed look to his eyes for a second there, like he was diving deep into this thought.

But he emerged, startled, revealing an informative, but extremely boring insight into his personal life. One which involved the memorisation of pizza menus and gaming with friends. A nerdy, geeky kind of guy who probably worked less than 40 hours a week but still made close to what Adam made as an almost partner barrister with his 80+ hours. Lindi did feel a brief protective urge for Chance, as if she had any ability to protect him here. "It's Friday for me too," she said, scribbling his name down in her planner on July 21st as a reminder. She didn't want to think on all of that and what it meant right now.

"Well, at least we know there's a proper boom box here," Lindi said, putting the last few of the spilled cassette tapes away into the container. Now it was a very pleasing blend of white to grey to black to red, purple, blue, green, yellow, orange and brown. Perfect. "I think I saw some pizza on the buffet? There's definitely garlic bread, and it's to die for."

[unathorn]

Closed starter for @lindiwe-in-camelot

The hornets are everywhere. Some people are limping back toward the hub bearing the wounds of savage encounters. Some seemingly stung, others cradling injuries from trying to fight them off. And Una had done her best to see that those who needed help got to the safety of their huts or to the crowding entrance of the medi-centre. Una is sure that the good doctor will have her hands full for quite some time... That is, if she'd managed to avoid an encounter with the flying death squad herself. It's a concern that gnaws at Una's mind.

She doesn't know where people are. The good doctor. Her friend, Baski. The weird Irish stoner. And that worry is something that keeps her feet moving. Even though these things can fly, Una is fairly confident that she has enough speed to give herself a chance of outrunning them (in wolf form) if she ends up in a sticky situation. But she doesn't set out like that... Most people hadn't encountered 'wolf-Una' yet, and she was probably as likely to scare them as the hornets were...

So she's barefoot as she pads quietly between the huts, looking out for anyone who may be injured or struggling. Ducking into cover as small swarms of the hornets pass by, as though patrolling the area. Searching for... What? She doesn't know. But she really doesn't want to think of anyone being suck out here alone and scared.

Moving past the hub, which seems to be a flurry of activity and is acting as something of a triage centre for those with more minor injuries, taking a circular loop back toward the warehouses. Almost passing them by when something catches her attention...

...A scent. So much fainter and harder to distinguish in human form. But with adrenaline pumping and senses on alert, perhaps the wolf part of her is a little more awake too.

It's definitely - human. And... As far as she can tell, there's no iron tang to the scent so... Hopefully whoever is there is unhurt. But maybe scared. And most certainly alone.

A few quiet steps to reach the door... Not poking her head around the corner in case whoever was inside was ready to whack a hornet, and they might just be highly strung enough to hit anything that came through the door unannounced. So she does, announce herself. Quietly.

"Hello? Hello in there? Are you okay? My name is Una. Do you need any help? Hello?"

[darcyxpalmer]

FMK: Adarsh, Lindi, Tej

"Fuck Adarsh - maybe give him some time to figure himself out but sure, he has a pretty face. Marry Tej - he is a gorgeous gorgeous man, I would not be opposed to waking up next to him during mornings. And we already have the bickering down to a tee, right? And then still kill Lindi. I don't think she'd disagree." @mc-adarsh, @tejvirani, @lindiwe-in-camelot

[panopticonrpg]

LINDIWE'S GENERAL MEETING

With only a slight flurry of chaos - typical of any corporate meeting (or corp mtg, for short), really - @lindiwe-in-camelot's hopes for organizing some plans and structure with her colleagues truly bore some tasty fruit. With one underlying, unspoken message: they were long-term plans. For survival, but also for living. Transcript is linked in the discord server for everyone to read! The final points in summary are below under the readmore. Shoutout again to @lindiwe-in-camelot for summarizing, in-character!

OOC RESULTS - what this means for the characters:

multiple tasks and activities were established in the meeting (under readmore). Please use these character-driven ideas for your own threads and plots for the dash!

optional: groups of 3+ characters can RP task plots, planned between muns. Multi-character threads can be RP'd in private over discord, then published in full on the dash once completed! This will count towards activity (details on Oct 1st).

Meeting results (aka, plotting ideas)

communal meals - preparations and cooking. They can be prepared in large quantities using the Hub kitchen and facilities.

food inventory at the warehouse. It's a comprehensive list on a hanging clipboard for anyone to access. There's a blackboard on the wall next to it, to add any shareable fresh game, foraging, warnings, etc.

inventory list for non-food items at the warehouse

publicly available power registry list for everyone to add their name and ability

mobile phone contact exchange for inter-island texting

have a public list of dangers encountered out in the wild

conduct some map-making of the various locations

form exploration pairs/teams to investigate what's out there

build a security perimeter against roaming large animals, possibly do patrols

preparation for safety concerns & possible acts of God: weather, cruise ship's precarious position, volcano, etc

blood drive for the Medicentre's supplies

supply runs on the Odyssey to build Medicentre's supplies (and other communal supplies)

volunteers to help at the Medicentre

further investigations on the technology on the island: the cameras, generators, etc. dismantling them to see what happens

build a 'containment' (JUST CALL IT A JAIL!!!) for unruly powers

fix or replace the bridge leading to the Tower, it is broken

[zaidshair]

location: the warehouse @lindiwe-in-camelot

Zaid had noticed Lindi the first time - her bunched in a messy topknot, expression pouted in serious thought - but she'd been so focussed on her clipboard and scribbling, he'd managed to duck back out of the warehouse without her noticing. Or so he assumed; maybe she thought he was avoiding her, but he'd soon alleviate any worries.

When Zaid returned to the warehouse about a half hour later (he had to make it special), it was with with a somewhat heavy paper bag.

"Alright love," he greeted, relieved that he found Lindi still in there. It would've been wretched if he'd gassed this up only for her to have moved onto other things. He held up the paper bag. "You care for a little break? I've brought lunch."

Zaid put the bag on a table, and stood in a slightly posed way. "Right. Do you see light around me? Still worried I might explode?"

Too soon to make jokes at poor Maria's expense?

[alexpanganiban]

location: the second-best bungalow costar: @lindiwe-in-camelot

"Hullo hullo hullo!!" Alex rapped on the doorframe, but that didn't prevent him from simply inviting himself inside without awaiting the formality of an invitation. He could see Lindi through the window, after all (and had overheard other people referring to her as Lindi instead of the full Lindiwe that he'd read on her paper back in the first bungalow, so Alex had immediately adjusted for better familiarity), so obviously she was at home.

"You're home! That's great, I thought you might have been out doing one of the things people seem gung-ho about doing here. Investigating or glowering or having an existential crisis." Alex waved his hands on either side of his head, smiling to show that he meant it as a joke and shouldn't be dressed down by any number of extraordinarily sensitive self-diagnosed neurodivergent people on social media, before remembering that ... wasn't a thing here.

"I thought I'd drop by for a cuppa so we could, y'know, touch base and laugh about our meet-cute at my home, and--" Alex paused, replaying that. "Home. Maybe it's a little early to be calling it that? But then again, where's the harm in people feeling a sense of being settled before we tackle the thornier questions? Home's as good a word as any."

[akhilaasthana]

Location: Beach triage @lindiwe-in-camelot

Akhila found herself back in the thick of it. For the most part, the dust had settled and those that had suffered lightly were out of her way. There were still a few that lingered, she was keen to see them as swiftly as feasibly possible. Ideally with minimal chatter because the pain had incrementally worked its way through the tension in her jaw. “You.” She barked at a young woman who’d been passing her at the incidentally, wrong time. “Come here and assist.” Through a hiss of teeth she added. “Please.” Because this was not her domain, and she had no immunity here. Akhila didn’t wait for the young woman to agree, or put down her ridiculous purse. 

She swiftly knelt beside a gentleman that’d arrived with a posterolateral dislocated elbow. “I’m going to need you to stand up, and lean over.” She told him, measured and without malice. Akhila assisted him up, and then glanced at the woman she’d summoned. “You, support him and don’t let him move.” This would be easier if they could lay him down on a bed but that simply wasn’t feasible. Akhila took ahold of his arm, skimming her thumb over his olecranon.

“If you’re squeamish, I wouldn’t recommend looking.” She did however need the woman to assist. Otherwise, this was going to be difficult she needed the assistance of gravity.

[little-baski]

CLOSED STARTER for @lindiwe-in-camelot location: AT THE HUB timestamp: EVENT 02: PART 01: THE DRONES

The buzzing was not fun. Not fun at all. Sure, Baskar knew exactly where the Hornets were, they knew where they were flying off to, what places they might appear in next, and so forth. But it was also far too much noise. Too much sensory overload that even if they were aware that if they headed to the left they’d run into a swarm of them, they also barely registered it. Running into the next group of them scooping over the area looking for a next target. What were they doing? 

They didn’t want to know. They wanted them to finish whatever it was that kept them busy and then disappear. There were tears in Baskar’s eyes. Their teeth gritted together, every new almost altercation left them five seconds away from freaking out. But intensity was something they could handle. It hadn’t ever left them unable to cope, survival mode was in their blood. 

So when they did run into the next swarm, they were quick to shoot away and seek a place to hide. Running past the hub’s kitchen and scooting low to disappear behind the bar. Not the most well-hidden spot, but hopefully a bit too crammed for the large robots to fly into. 

They weren’t alone in thinking it a safe spot. 

Despite not having been to the meeting - because it had been far too busy - they’d seen Lindi a few times before. They recognised her without needing to hear her voice. 

Though right now it seemed a good idea to keep quiet for a moment. They pressed their finger against their lips, because they could clearly still hear the buzzing. The never ending buzzing.

[elijahbell]

starter for: @lindiwe-in-camelot

location: the feast

"Well, I'll be damned." Elijah was pretty sure he'd never seen anything like this. That was not to say he'd never been to a banquet before, there'd been plenty, but there was something incredibly surreal about seeing beautifully arranged food on a ghost-town island with nobody in sight who could've prepared it. But there it was, sitting under the nets, clearly waiting to be eaten by the bunch of hungry survivors the waves had washed ashore.

Elijah's eyes wandered along the feast. Different, varied kinds of food, still steaming. The smells not unpleasant together. His stomach growled. "I don't know about you, but I'm starving. I guess being shipwrecked will do that to you. Not that I can say I have much experience with that - believe it or not, this is my first time I have been stranded on an abandoned island." Elijah said, turning his attention to Lindiwe.

Their meeting had been by chance, though everybody was bound to meet each other with how confined the shipwreck and it's count of passengers was. She'd been alone and Elijah figured both of them could use some company while checking out the feast that'd been advertised thoroughly throughout the loudspeakers. There'd been a bit of calm immediately after the disaster, though that was starting to wear off. "I'll be honest, I almost thought there wouldn't be food. Seemed a bit too good to be true. A little bit like heaven. Though- I love being wrong sometimes." He nodded at the table. "Anything catch your fancy?"

[lindiwe-in-camelot]

LINDIWE TYRELL || CAMELOT

About | Skele | Interview | Tags | Headcanons | Playlist | Powers

Lindiwe had big dreams when she was younger, become a lawyer and follow in her father's footsteps. However, her plans derailed following her father's sudden death. Lindi dropped out of law school, married her college boyfriend, Adam Tyrell and shortly after became pregnant with her daughter Paige. Lindi threw herself into being a stay at home mum, volunteering with her local school and community groups, while always wondering what could have been. In recent years Lindi preceded to ruin her own life by sleeping with a teacher at Paige’s school and then breaking up with said teacher semi-publicly. After being shunned from her community and friends, it was Adam who stayed by her side... Long enough to freeze their shared assets and serve her divorce papers to shack up with his pregnant affair partner. Lindi was just starting to find her own footing when Panopticon whisked her away. Is this to be her new beginning?

Written by Grey (she/her) GMT+13

[chancedarling]

'Come on, you have to tell me some of your faves, Mr Eclectic.'

Oh, fuck off. No. Because if he'd wanted to volunteer that kind of information, he'd have done it already. And why? Really, what's she going to do? Make him a fucking mixtape? Sweet baby jeebuz... He's definitely leaning toward delusional with this one.

But - he gives a quick 'rabbit in the headlights' look, before stuttering slightly in reply.

"Oh, man... Y'know when someone asks you what your favourite colour is and uh... your brain just forgets the entire rainbow exists. Uh... Lotsa stuff. Different stuff. Uh... Y'know, maybe if I flick through these, I'll see something else I like?"

He looks away sheepishly, then crouches down and starts thumbing through the other casettes in earnest, managing to drop the scratchy linens on the floor at the same time, fumbling slightly to grab them and knocking the box of tapes over in his flustered state...

(Not flustered. Expertly crafted. Be the blundering buffoon. The nervous nerd. The geeky gamer. The shy kid. The sweet but quiet one.)

"Oh, no... Oh... Bollocks... I'm so sorry, here, let me..."

And that is probably enough of an innocent distraction to avoid answering her question. Sorted.

He's busy scrambling to save the casettes and make sure nothing is broken, looking suitably distraught at his own 'clumsiness' when little Miss Delusional finally says something interesting...

"Kidnapped? Do... Do you really think that's what happened?"

'What if they're one of us? Or pretending to be one of us…'

Oh, even more interesting. It seemed as though she's actually engaged her brain now and is beginning to consider potential beyond the Spice Girls. This was starting to be more fun than he'd expected.

Chance hesitates then, looking up - hands full of tapes - letting his jaw drop open a little. A look of shock and a small peppering of uneasiness dropped in for effect.

"Ohmygosh. I... I hadn't even considered that. I... Oh my... I... I don't know? Why? I mean? Why would someone even do that?"

Chance would certainly have done that. Because what better way to observe than to be the fox in the hen house? The wolf in sheeps clothing. And yes, he has considered it... But without a deeper understanding and assessment of every single fucking person here, there was no way to know.

And if they could pull this off - getting all of these people to this island, none the wiser as to how they came to be here, then they are smart... Very smart. Smart enough to hide in plain sight? Oh, definitely.

He almost hopes that she's right. Because how he would LOVE to pitch himself against a mind like that. To see just how fucking clever he is against this invisible power. Can he sniff them out - uncover their secret...

Finally - a worthy adversary.

He blinks, wide eyed - glancing around as though the shadows around them would reveal some secret monster.

"Uh... It's... It was... It... It is... F-friday."

"Because it was the buy a 16 inch pizza get a free... Um... Garlic bread special. I... I was supposed to be gaming with s-some friends... So I ... I ordered pizza."

"Is it not Friday?"

Lindiwe had to remind herself that 'they're a bit indie' wasn't a widely known turn of phrase. It was an endearing inside joke, a rib, a mum joke that had Paige do that oh-so-stereotypically teenage groan and sigh because it's not even that funny mum. But it was funny, teasing Paige about her obsession with being independent and alternate and 'not like the other girls' in her early teen years, how she would play Lindiwe literally the worst music/TV show/movie that she had ever seen and haughtily declare 'oh of course you don't know about it mum they're indie.' In Lindi's opinion, it was less to do with Lindi being 'hip', and everything to do with those artists producing weird shit that catered to teens craving uniqueness and/or pretentious film students who wore musky tweed and smoked cigarettes.

Of course Chance didn't really know what to make of her indie comment. He had a self described eclectic music taste. "Come on, you have to tell me some of your faves, Mr Eclectic," she teased, if only because she needed to stop thinking about Paige, and how she'd silently sucked up the fact that she didn't really like Wet Leg because it meant she got to spend and afternoon in Paige's bedroom. And how she might not-

Chance distracted them further, though it wasn't with a pleasant bit of small talk. Leading on from the lyrics, he wondered whether their mysterious benefactor wanted to meet them. Lindi's heart jumped in her chest, squeezing hard at the reminder of… everything. This impossible day. Why did he have to bring it up? She was doing such a good job at finding music to jam to and trying to drown out the chipper voice blaring through the speakers and he had to bring it all back again.

Lindi sighed, turning her attention back to the cassette case. Why was there no Scissor Sisters when she needed them? "Oh, it's definitely mixed messages," Lindi breathily said, tucking free stands of hair behind her ear. She didn't want to talk about it, she just wanted a few minutes where she could let music carry her away to somewhere else…

But Chance had been so nice, and maybe he needed someone to talk this over with. Circumstances aside, it was nice meeting him as well. Lindi clenched her jaw, took a breath and gave Chance a tight smile. "I think there is probably a reason our gracious host is communicating with us through the speakers. Would you show your face to a group of people you had kidnapped?" she asked rhetorically, though that sparked a chilling idea. "What if… What if they're one of us? Or pretending to be one of us…" Lindi shivered. This is what she got for letting Paige show her indie horror films, which tended to be genuinely horrifying. She tried not to be obvious as she gave Chance a surreptitious once over. What sort of name was Chance anyway? It's always the white boys who look a little bit like Jesus... God, was she being a judgemental bitch? She probably was, definitely was, did that make her a horrible person? Chance was completely lovely, he probably thought she was the mole...

"How do you think they did it? Kidnapped all of us, I mean. Wait, first, what day do you think it is?" Lindi asked Chance, reaching into her purse to grab her diary, flicking open to the tabbed page. Her interview was highlighted on July 21.

[darcyxpalmer]

FMK: Lindi, Chance, Alex

"Fuck Chance - look at the man, he is fine, why would I not want to fuck him, right? Marry Alex - in sickness and in health and all that shit, but also, in marriages you are expected to be truthful and honest, right? So maybe if I'm his wife, he should be telling me what he knows, right? And then kill Lindi - it's the obvious choice, honestly." @chancedarling, @alexpanganiban, @lindiwe-in-camelot

[panopticonrpg]

CAMELOT

Name: Lindiwe Tyrell

Age: 40

Gender: Cis Woman

Power: Emotional Aura Reading

FC: Gugu Mbatha-Raw

You've always been the odd duck in your family, the one who trailed behind your friend group on the sidewalk, the afterthought for lunch plans among coworkers. People said they loved you, yet you were never anyone's person. You tell yourself that you chose these people, because you were sure they would stand by you too, in the end. It started with problems at work and your coworkers turned a blind eye. Then you had a personal emergency and no friend would pick up the phone. And then your family fell into trouble - everyone scrambling to help each other, expecting you to help them...but no one helping you. This was your last memory, before you wake up on a strange island. They say the real family is who you choose. Does that mean the people related through blood and a lifetime of memories, or these strangers who know nothing about you? Is this your chance to be noticed, or ignored all over again?

CONNECTIONS:

NARNIA: Meeting Narnia, it feels like meeting the best friend you always dreams of having. A person who might actually care about you when things go awry, perhaps a shoulder to cry on, a comfort during dark times. Does Narnia feel similar about you? You're not sure, and maybe you're willing to find out. ARRAKIS: Although they seem familiar, you're not sure if you've ever met Arrakis before landing on the island. Regardless, you feel a little afraid of Arrakis, who seems so unemotional and detached from reality. If you ended up owing them anything, how would you feel about it?

This skeleton is TAKEN

[zaidshair]

Task 002: *makes whale noises*

Zaid's accent to anyone outside of the UK is an 'English accent'. Within the UK, it's Sheffield/Yorkshire, with a rubbing of west London. And within Sheffield it was 'Pak-immigrant'. His tone is perpetually hoarse and soft-spoken, even when he gets testy and pissed. When he gets louder and more punitive, it's still deeply restrained. He's only really sing-song, casual, and playful amongst the people he...well no one at this moment (@tejvirani, soz babes). Closest he's got is with @lindiwe-in-camelot and @choihyejinx , and a touch with @lapsus-memoriae-gael. I love this film because Riz uses a Sheffield accent (UKers can tell how badly done it is LMAO) and it's exactlyyyyy how I imagine Zaid speaks:

For my body-language bonus, this is Riz doing spoken word/rap, but it demonstrates Zaid's body language. A lot of straight unblinking eye-contact, and restrained body-movement. He'll only move to punctuate something he feels strongly about. At the 3:10 point, he snarls, which is very Zaid expressiveness when he wants to get a point across.

[alexpanganiban]

location: bungalow row costar: @lindiwe-in-camelot

"Yes," Alex said, though he was by himself -- well, physically by himself, by himself in terms of nobody else was standing with him. But in a more accurate way of looking at it, he wasn't ever going to be by himself here, wherever, was he? Not with the regular studding of cameras around the place, providing constant surveillance for an as-yet-unidentified person or persons.

And very likely, there was nobody else who'd come off the Odyssey who understood what it was like living constantly in the camera's eye like Alex Panganiban. So!-- "Yes," he said again, with more conviction, "this will do very nicely for me." The corner bungalow had the best situation, and as Alex forged ahead into it, he realized with a rude shock that somebody else was entering from the other door. "HELLO!" Alex brayed, rushing forward into the little house. "I'm here! This is taken! Occupado!"

[akhilaasthana]

A Cambridge College alumni charity gala circa 2016

@lindiwe-in-camelot

Being back at their college was hard, seeing old classmates rub elbows with Adam and humble-brag about making partner or some difficult, high profile case they'd solved. And then they'd turn to her, Lindi, who had been on track to be in the top ten percent of their college, who had publicly dropped out and crashed and burned. Some friends, kinder, assumed she'd finished her degree later. There was no easy way to admit that she was a homemaker, bringing up baby-now-preteen Paige while Adam had the job at the top law firm. 

She'd needed a break, so she had excused herself and come to the green. It was a little too chilly to be out here without a jacket, especially given the silk blend, sleeveless, high-low floral dress she was wearing. The fresh air was just what she needed, after all of the empty smiles and big egos. Lindi took a deep breath in, catching the sound of a shoe scuffing against the tile. Someone else needed some fresh air too. 

Lindi saw them, an orange burn of a cigarette to the left, overlooking the garden. Lindi paused, old university temptations coming back strong. Fuck it. She stalked over to them, her heels clacking against the stone tile. "Hey," she said, putting all the warmth she could into that approach. "Any chance I could bum a fag?"

-

The assumption had been the event with be a tight, small affair and Akhila had still needed encouragement to come. It was a riotous affair of noise and the worst kind of socialising. Everyone appeared to be desperate to one-up the other. Worst still it wasn’t even exclusively her fellows—there were solicitors here. 

Akhila excused herself from a dull conversation pertaining to nothing of interest, and slipped outside. It was fresh, and Akhila was glad for the layers of her suit though she wouldn’t have minded her coat. She lit a cigarette, which would get her into some trouble later, and leaned against the wall. 

Quiet voice behind her. Akhila’s gaze drew back to see a young woman clad in heels and a light floral dress. Wordlessly, she offered the box of cigarettes to her flicking it open. She shouldn’t have these anyway—Hannah was going to kill her if she knew she’d bought more.

-

Step one of her naughty cigarette was complete. Lindi took a few extra steps towards the stranger, the haircut suggested they were a woman wearing a suit. Very practical. Very nineties. God, she'd had too much champagne. Lindi took one of the offered cigarettes. "Thanks, these sorts of nights drive me to smoke. Even if it's all in the name of charity." Lindi said, in the expected light hearted chuckle. "You got a light?" she asked, prompting the stranger to fulfil their sacred duty as bummer of cigarettes.

-

Akhila fished out her lighter, and to shield the flame from the light gusts she came closer. The desire to stub out her barely smoked cigarette was grew in strength. Akhila conceded in the end—one person was more tolerable than a crowd. “Wasting an evening drinking and eating in the name of charity feels a poor choice.” The line of her jaw was tight. She looked over the young woman, the light coming from inside had formed a soft halo around her head, so she looked away. She loathed herself for asking. “What do you do?”

-

She even managed to get a light from the stranger, though Lindi sincerely doubted without her prompting she would have been left with a useless, unlit cigarette. The stranger stepped closer, and Lindi got a flash of her face in the light from the flame. A cheap Bic lighter, that didn't suit her perfectly tailored outfit. Was she sneaking cigarettes she wasn't allowed too? Lindi tittered to herself and sucked in her first, tarry puff of smoke. She cleared her throat, slowly blowing smoke into the air above them. "Thanks, again." 

Finally, the stranger said something. Thank God. Lindi couldn't bear standing in the silence. "Isn't this event for starving children somewhere in Africa?" Lindi said wryly, wrapping one arm around her chest while the other kept her cigarette propped up in the air, within easy distance of her mouth. "Is it horrible that I don't know?" she whispered to the stranger, like a partner in crime. 

And then the stranger had to ruin it, with that stupid question that Lindi had been trying to outrun all night. So what do you do? Well, I wake up and try to wrangle a preteen out of bed and into her uniform and get her into school before first bell, then I go to a committee meeting about protesting the development of a motorway, then I make dinner, run errands, have my third existential crisis off the day and kiss my breadwinner husband on the lips when he comes home  and listen to his complaints about the commute and his boss and clients while I massage his feet and nod and coo and try very hard not to implode. 

She was so, so sick of that question. So, she decided to choose a different answer. "I'm a barrister," she said cooly, taking a drag of her cigarette. "Family Law. What about you? Let me guess..." About ten years older than her, smart suit, not a big talker. "You're an academic, in physics maybe?"

-

Akhila exhaled smoke over her shoulder, towards the green and away from the stranger out of polite pleasantries. The fundraising side of the evening was a farce. Theatrical show for the Cambridge alumni to put on and give themselves a healthy pat on the back for. That didn’t stop the stranger getting it wrong. Akhila chewed her bottom lip, holding back a cutting remark. Instead she took another drag. 

The young woman whispered to her, an illicit smile despite having just told Akhila she thought it for the starving. Silence hung between them and Akhila breathed it in, she could hear the subtle tick of her watch out here. A barrister, now she was regretting lingering this long. “Not even close.” Akhila answered, as she took a wild guess at who she was, what she did. 

Akhila really had no desire to get an earful on the difficulties of family law. Precisely why she’d enforced prenups. “I studied on the biomedical campus if that assists your guesswork.”

-

This stranger sure was a fan of long silences. Her joke about the starving children (which was in bad taste, yes) didn't even get a little rush of air through her nostrils. Lindi was just buzzed enough from the champagne and cigarette to not really give a shit. This was a lot more pleasant a conversation than facing her ex-classmates inside. Talking to a brick wall would be more pleasurable than that. This stranger was a tad better than that. 

Lindi took another drag as the stranger said she wasn't even close, but kindly gave her a clue. Studying on the biomedical campus. "Ah, a doctor then," Lindi declared, smiling to herself. "A psychologist? You don't speak much, give me all the pauses to speak into, just like my shrink." Lindi paused, just to see if the stranger would speak. Nothing. She smiled to herself and then continued, "But I can't see you sitting in a room all day, you can barely stand talking to me. Me taking to you... You didn't fumble with that Bic lighter and it always takes me about five goes to make the bloody thing work, so a surgeon then." Lindi deduced, puffing on her cigarette like she was Sherlock Holmes. "Good with your hands..." she added on, giggling to herself at the awkward flirtation. It didn’t mean anything, she was married.

"I hate hospitals," she said, after another pause. Her cigarette was nearly ashes now, she doubted the stranger would give her another.

-

Akhila pressed her tongue against her teeth, it wasn't just that the young woman was getting it all wrong, so often people did. She confused medicine with psychiatry, it was like looking at a beautiful contemporary modern art piece and declaring it romantic. Wrong. Akhila exhaled sharply, "psychologists do not--" But the young woman didn't stop there, she barrelled onwards. Taking little leaps and turning them into assumptions, at least this time she was closer to the truth. 

"Correct. I'm an orthopaedic surgeon." Akhila said firmly, tying herself up in small knots as to whether it was appropriate to elaborate. She came to the decision surely it must be, thus she ignored the young woman's proclamation she hated hospitals. "I deal primarily with sports injuries, and specialise in knees." The young woman's cigarette had burned out, much like Akhila's. She crunched the rest under the heal of her flats. Akhila held out the lighter and cigarettes to her. "Take them." She was going to be in trouble either way, there was no hiding the smell.

-

Lindi’s comment on psychologists had gotten a response from the stranger, but it appeared her guess of a surgeon had been correct. "A... knee doctor?" Lindi commented, unaware there were such things as knee doctors before now. How many things could go wrong with a knee? Surely it would get boring, wouldn’t it, staring at knees all day? 

Before she could question her more on the specifics of knee surgery, the stranger held out the cigarettes and lighter to her. Lindi paused, then took them from her hand. She slipped out another cigarette, put the box into her clutch and then preceded to try and get the fucking bic lighter to work. It only took her three times to light up her next cigarette. Too much too fast, fuck it. She deserved the second smoke. 

"Thanks. It's nice talking to someone who doesn't know me." Or people who thought they knew her. "Do you want a mint?" she asked, as if that would be enough to hide the scent of cigarette smoke.

-

"I'm a consultant surgeon," Akhila corrected. Her patience eroding with each lap of a careless comment. The young woman seemed, unawares, and probably had drunk a touch too much of the free champagne. Akhila felt a pulse of regret at giving her the cigarettes as she watched her fail to strike the lighter, getting it lucky only on her third chance. Tonight would be a night of regrets. 

A mint was a poor consolation prize but regardless, Akhila nodded. "I would like a mint." She had a small tin in her car, but she hadn't driven here tonight. They'd booked a hotel, taken taxi under the assumption they'd like to drink, but upon arrival Akhila had decided against that. She'd spent a good portion of the evening seeing how fast they could drive home tomorrow and whether she could make it to the hospital. The answer was firmly no but she'd thought it worth double checking.

-

Knee doctor, consultant orthographic surgeon, whatever. God, surgeons were just as pedantic as lawyers. However, the consultant orthopaedic surgeon was not immune to the temptation of a mint. Lindi smiled, opening up her clutch to efficiently locate the mint box carefully tucked into it's place. She'd gotten far too reliant on giant mum handbags lately, it had pained her to par down to her clutch. "Here," Lindi offered, tapping some mints into the surgeon's palm. Her hand was remarkably steady. "Extreme mint, watch out..." Lindi couldn't stand sweet mint flavours. 

"My husband's the lawyer, actually. He’s a solicitor. Corporate law," Lindi said with a mini-eye roll to accompany it. Such a fucking bore. "I'm the Cambridge drop-out." Lindi sighed, then stubbed out the rest of her cigarette with the toe of her shoe. "Is being a fuck up contagious?"

-

Extreme. Akhila should've heeded the warning because the sharp and intense burn of mint held it's own as she sucked on the otherwise innocent sweet. Hopefully it was intense enough to oblierate any stench leftover, but Akhila found that unlikely. "You aren't a barrister then?" Akhila asked, neither curious nor accusatory. She merely wanted a straighter version of the events that the young woman was seemingly playing out for her. "And who would you blame for your fuck up?" The source of her contagion as she put it. 

Though she understood to a degree, and it had been a very long time since she'd thought of him. Akhila chewed the mints, unsure why she'd accepted all three when one would've been sufficient. "Perhaps you have achieved elsewhere." Akhila said without much commitment, it was the sort of throwaway line that the young woman would find pleasing. If there was a husband, she suspected based on her age, there was likely to be children too. Allegedly, children were something of an achievement.

-

"I'm not a barrister," Lindi confirmed, like, keep up Dr Knee. "Which everyone else seems to think is contagious. Like the plague," Come on Dr Knee, ding ding ding, Lindi was patient zero for fuck-up-itis. She didn't want to talk about her baba dying to this woman, she'd had enough pity tonight. 

"Not in any way that matters to them in there," Lindi sighed, holding her arms tight across her chest. Jenny had already returned from maternity leave with her youngest, and Shenae was only going to take a year off for her bump. Michael had a stay at home wife, but she'd had to take the night off to take care of their youngest. They'd been quiet in that judgemental way when they'd found out that Adam and Lindi only had the one kid, like, why the fuck are you still at home then, Lindi? "They have kids and a career. Or just a career." Lindi envied Dr Knee that. 

"Sorry, you don't really care about all this. You just wanted a smoke," Lindi said, with another sigh and half laugh. "Does your husband think you've quit?" she asked, assuming Dr Knee had come with someone if she was so eager to get rid of the smokes now.

-

Evidently the champagne they'd been handing out was good, because she seemed to be enjoying herself. Whilst Akhila wasn't convinced her fuck-ups were contagious, a slight slip of a smile betrayed the young woman's other infectious habits. It all pivoted as she barrelled onwards about kids, careers and the people in there. Akhila exhaled through pursed lips, not invested in a total stranger's lack of self compassion. Nor was she interested in playing her shrink. 

"No, but her wife did." 

Akhila glanced over her shoulder in the direction of the voice, to meet Hannah's gaze, worrying her bottom lip with teeth. She stared, hoping to convey that she'd only smoked one. That somehow Hannah would sense the rest of her cigarettes were in this stranger's tiny clutch. Hannah came to stand like the intruder on a private conversation, loitering close enough to Akhila that she could smell the spice of her perfume. "Has Ms. Asthana told you all the juicy details of her latest paper?" 

"Hannah," Akhila said firmly, quietly. "She's a barrister in training, she's not interested." Akhila looked to the young woman as if offering her a rather meek olive branch – not debasing her, as she had done to herself.

-

Lindi jumped in her skin at a new stranger's voice butting into their conversation. Dr Knee's wife evidently. Lindi turned to see a blonde approach, a tall, athletic bombshell. There was something familiar about her, but Lindi found herself glancing back to Dr Knee, the way she had softened around her eyes. 

They were unbearably intimate, despite the fact that they didn't touch, or pash, or do anything but have a silent conversation with their eyes, 'you told me you were going to quit.' 'yes but these sorts of dinners drive me to smoke.' Lindi felt her heart quicken, her skin prickle as she looked at them. There were no lesbian couples in her village, not that Lindi knew of. God, was she staring? She didn't mean to, God, she hoped they didn't think she was a bigot, she'd cried when the marriage equality law had passed. It was just... She wanted... They were... 

"No, no juicy paper sharing," Lindi said, maybe a little bit too loudly. Barrister-in-training was a nice epithet from Dr Knee (she hadn't caught that surname). "I wouldn't know a sinew from a... a ligament?" Lindi said, chuckling at herself, waving her hand. A well practised dance at self-deprecation. "I'm sure it's far too technical for someone like me." 

"Would you believe me if I said I offered your... your wife," There was her heart again, pounding in her chest, "a smoke and she turned me down?" Unlikely, given what she'd overheard Lindi say. "Terrible influence, I am."

-

Akhila ran her tongue over the inside of her teeth, the young woman was inclined to putting herself down but she wasn't inviting Akhila to correct her. Though the temptation was there, it was an exceedingly simple difference that she was certain even a barrister-in-training could grasp. She said nothing of the sort though, and spared a glance back to Hannah, who clad in a sweeping light summer frock wouldn't be warm. Who was in turn staring down the young woman. 

"I would." Hannah said, with a smile that was destined to brighten even a gloomy Cambridge courtyard. "Well, you've clearly been spared a dull hour then... sorry, what's your name? I'm Hannah Moss, real pleasure to meet you, even if you are a terrible influence." 

The young woman seemed to be growing increasingly, twitchy? She'd gone a little wide-eyed in a manner that suggested some slight shock. She was also putting an awful lot of emphasis on wife. Akhila was content to ride the conversation as a passenger letting Hannah steer tended to be smoother, easier. 

"Would you both like to come inside? Awfully cold out here."

-

Lindi felt in the spotlight, the way the wife, Hannah, was looking at her. Her smile was warm, however, when she chose to believe Lindi's cock-and-bull story. "Paragon of resilience, there," Lindi offered to Dr Knee. 

The name Hannah offered was definitely twigging now. "Sorry, you're Hannah Moss?" she said, in a gauche sort of way. At these things it was much better to thoughtfully hum and go, 'good game at the Olympics,' even if you hadn't seen the match. "You must have excellent knees," she said, looking between the two of them, and only wincing at herself a beat later. She was being weird, so weird, they were going to gossip about her after. 'She was an odd one.' 'Yes, and a bit of a bigot, did you hear the way she said wife?' 'Yes, a very strange woman, thank goodness I'm not in psychiatry.' 'Oh darling, I love you, I can't wait to celebrate our third wedding anniversary now that we are legally married and not in a stupid civil union.' Lindi needed a drink. 

"No, you two go ahead," Lindi said, sure that they were looking for an excuse to be away from the strange, probably bigoted, not-barrister fuck up who had tempted Dr Knee to taking some cancer sticks. "Don't let me hold you back from the party." She was fucking freezing, but she wanted to be alone when she imploded from pent up frustration at how weird she was being, how she was drinking in every glance Dr Knee and Hannah Moss tennis star were giving each other. "There must be people in there you have to tell about your paper..."

-

It was not thoroughly uncommon for Hannah’s name to go unrecognised. Akhila had tried to reassure her one evening that it was the passage of time, Hannah hadn’t been on professional courts for coming up to a decade. But she knew the young woman’s reaction would be no small delight. “Actually—-“ Akhila had found her own moment to tease, even as small as it was but Hannah had already progressed to inviting them inside. She simply nodded. 

Hannah had moved back towards the door, and Akhila shifted after her. Stopping halfway to turn back to the young woman. “Good evening.” Which felt an apt goodbye to a woman whose name she still did not know. 

Hannah on the other hand, had already slipped back inside. The young woman’s optimism lingered with her, as the event after all was distinctly not balanced in her favour. Akhila found Hannah sourcing two glasses of Prosecco. “She seemed lovely, a bit repressed. You though, you I’m pissed off with.” 

This was not likely to be a night to forget.

-

Dr Knee had been about to say something, after Lindi's comment about knees, but Hannah expertly cut her off with the suggestion to move inside. Note to self, google Hannah Moss knees on the way home. Actually, maybe not. That was probably a fetish thing. Did Dr Knee deal with knee fetishists...? Definitely don't ask that. 

"Evening," Lindi weakly said, when Dr Knee turned to look back at her. And with a flash of light and noise from the gala, they were gone. Lindi was alone and free to bite on the knuckle of her first finger, because she was wearing a lot of makeup and couldn't touch her face and rub it all of. She was so stupid, everyone thought she was strange and a bit daft and they were probably right. Lindi allowed herself a self indulgent groan and then fetched her mints out if her clutch, chewing two rapidly to let the intense, cool heat ground her. She was fine, she was normal, just a normal woman who could act normally around lesbians without wanting to blurt out that she'd written multiple letters in response to the public consultation about supporting same sex marriage like some kind of freak. This was something she was going to have to unpack with her therapist, and she'd tell Lindi she was normal and fine, and no, she probably didn't need to go back onto Lustral…

Lindi waited until the mint had dissolved in her mouth before finally venturing back inside. A waiter walked by her with the free champagne. Lindi stopped him and took one glass, holding up the finger on her clutch for him to wait as she rapidly downed it, gave him the empty glass and then took a fresh glass with a gracious smile. Drink acquired. Another reason not to go back onto her anxiety meds, drinking on them was fucking awful.

By the time Lindi found Adam, she was a bit more levelled, calmer since the room was packed enough that she couldn't see Dr Knee and her hot tennis wife. Lindi slipped in next to Adam, who was in the middle of telling a story about how he'd negotiated a 'fuck you' clause into a company merger a few years ago, much to the ecstatic delight of their group of friends. Adam's friends now, she supposed. Corporate law, in Lindiwe's opinion, was equivalent to eating glass. Adam thrived in it, however, and Lindi was supportive of it and all the amenities it allowed her. 

She let the story wash over her, already knowing when to politely smile and chuckle during the highs and lows of this tale. She caught a glimpse of their reflection in the window. They looked perfect, her dress was gorgeous, effortless in that expensive way. Everyone's eyes were on Adam. He was shining, in his element, talking about all of the wonderful things he had done. He had shaved that horrible moustache off his face, thank god, and his brown hair hadn't lost any of its thickness. He was attractive, they looked good together. Lindi sipped on her champagne, breaking away from their reflection, and the way it was perfect yet made her heart squeeze uncomfortably in her chest. Just... Be normal, Lindiwe. 

There was another round of speeches (dull, completely uninteresting), a final thank you from the charity organisers (they must have hated this whole room of tossers wining and dining and rubbing shoulders all in the name of charity) and slowly, the party started to wind down. Adam was in his element, with no sign of slowing down. He was completely unaware of the way people were glancing at their watches, shifting their handbags on their shoulders. "Adam, darling," Lindi cooed, slipping her arm into his. "I can feel a migraine coming on," she lied, an easily used crutch. The migraine meds caught most of them now days, but it was handy when she wanted to go home early. Or to sidestep sex. 

"Right, then," Adam said loudly, squeezing her arm. "Better take care of the missus," he said, even though he knew she hated being called 'the missus.' Adam proceeded to shoot the shit with Michael for a few more minutes, before letting himself be guided back to the coat check and the massive queue that had formed. 

"You smell like smoke, naughty girl," Adam chided her playfully as they waited.

Lindi smiled weakly, thinking of the box of cigarettes in her clutch with a thrill. Maybe if she smoked them outside, then had a shower after, she could eke out the box to last her a week, two weeks, and Paige would be none the wiser and Lindi could continue to preach that Paige should never touch cigarettes were dirty nasty things. 

They took a few steps further forward, Lindi's feet aching from the heels. The couple who had gotten their coats came back against the line, and it was them. Hannah Moss and Dr Knee. (God, Hannah had even said her name, but Lindi had blanked it out in her previous adrenaline surge of 'I need to be a good ally.’) Lindi caught Dr Knee's gaze, and gave them both a timid smile and wave goodbye. And that would be the end of that train of embarrassment- 

Adam snapped his fingers, and Lindi felt her stomach drop. "You had a great run at Wimbledon... Moss, isn't it?" he said, and Lindi wanted to curl up and die. Of course, sports-mad Adam would recognise Hannah Moss, and be brazen enough to interrupt her when they were trying to leave this place. He was in his braggadocious, networking mood, nothing could stop him. "A sniper on the clay. Did you enjoy yourself tonight? Fabulous food." 

Lindi stood next to him, cleared her throat. "I didn't get the chance to tell you, Adam, I met Hannah Moss and her wife outside, while I was getting some fresh air." 

"Wife?" Adam said, glancing over at Dr Knee, he gave her a cursory glance, lingering on Hannah Moss. "Very modern," he said, and Lindi wanted to jump into a volcano after pushing him in first. 

"I'm sure you are wanting to get home, beat the traffic and all," Lindi said, feeling the blood rush to her cheeks.

-

There was no way out of the corner she had boxed herself into. Hannah drank both glasses, and Akhila quietly told her they could discuss later. All before an alumni that Akhila actually recognised swooped in, and she offered them a firm handshake. “I hear you’re a pathologist.” Akhila knew this because she’d religiously read the papers of all the alumni from her cohort that she knew by name. That was if they had papers. Some appeared to be less than fastidious in their post school life. Akhila spied out of the corner of her eye Hannah drifting, so be it. She’d have to make amends later. 

Later came much too soon, and far too fast. Akhila’s conversation dried up not long after realising Dr. Stanislas had nothing of interest to contribute. Akhila could feign no further interest in his new paper detailing a streamlined process in diagnosing microscopic colitis and eosinophilic enteritis patients from irritable bowel syndrome. 

She found Hannah close to the coat check. “Shall we leave?” Akhila asked, hopeful that the mood may have settled. That they could go home in peace and Akhila could kiss— 

“Yes. I don’t know why we came.” Hannah snapped, and Akhila knew this irritability that was often found at the bottom of her cups. “Coats?” 

They both joined the queue for coat check. Akhila straining not to give the obvious answer for why they’d come. Why Akhila had been talked so easily into coming tonight. The gala was in the name of a charity that sponsored young people, empowering them through education. Akhila found the title of benefactor an uncomfortable weight to bear, and so all donations had been anonymous. The night had also held the possibility of reuniting with fellow alumni of her school—but little such luck there. 

They queued in silence, Akhila busying herself with reading each new forum notification in detail. Until they’d gotten to the front and she handed over their tickets. Akhila helped Hannah into her coat, and then slipped her jacket on with ease. “I really fancy something disgusting and greasy…” Hannah informed her.

Akhila’s stomach writhed at the thought, but her attention flickered up. Catching the noise of someone who was trying to command attention in the queue. His gaze was locked on Hannah, ah, so he wanted her attention. Akhila nudged Hannah who was otherwise oblivious. “I think you have a fan.” Beside the unimpressive man was the young woman in a silk floral dress. She looked meek next to him. 

Hannah glided past the queue to greet him with a more generous smile than he deserved. “That’s me. Yes well sharp as you are, I did have better results in Paris. Absolutely, it’s been a terrific evening…” 

Hannah’s gaze was drinking them both in, whilst Akhila stood off to the side watching the ordeal unfold. The meek young woman spoke up and Adam latched onto the tidbit she offered. 

“Yes we always strive for modernity don’t we darling?” Hannah cooed, and Akhila hoped this might be over soon. “Well we have a long drive to go home, are you two lovebirds local? Here I was debating suggesting you come visit the club. Perhaps not if you’re up here.” Akhila cleared her throat. 

“We live on the south coast, just here visiting.” She had hoped she’d feel relieved that these strangers knew they were together, and not just friends. Akhila felt uneasy, she could feel the unsaid judgement hanging between them all. 

“Yes, come visit us in Brighton you’ll find it’s all very modern down there uh…sorry who are you?”

-

Adam was being an ass, and by association, he was making Lindi an ass as well. Because why would she be married to him if she didn't think the same as him? Hannah was prickly, Lindi could tell from the glint in her eye, the tilt in her hip. Adam, god forsake him, was undoubtedly checking her out. Lindi dug her elbow into his side, wishing she had said nothing at all about Hannah and her wife. Adam, full of confidence and wine, kept calm and carried on, oblivious.

 "Do you still play, at all? It would be worth the visit down south to watch you play live." There was a faint hint of voyeurism to his voice. He sounded like a fucking sleazebag. Of course, he extended out his hand, not able to hear the dripping scorn in her voice as she asked him who he was. God, it was like watching a train wreck in front of her, and she was married to the train. "Adam Tyrell, solicitor, working with Travers Smith," he said haughtily, as if he were wooing her in front of her wife and his own. 

Lindi dared a glance at Dr Knee, who at least looked awkward in her reserved sort of manner. She didn't quite match Lindi's mortification, her fervent wishing for the devil to come, open up a portal to hell beneath their feet and send them to eternal damnation. That at least, would be less painful, less embarrassing than this. What the fuck could she do? "Adam, look," she said, resorting to skills she had last used when Paige had been three. The line ahead of them was starting to pick up the pace. "We don't want to hold up the queue... And they will be wanting to get home..." 

"Say, what's the name of your club-" 

"ADAM!" Lindi seethed, abruptly loud in the quiet, chatter of the line. God, she'd made it worse, hadn't she? "Please... My migraine," she added on, feeling weak and foolish and pathetic. She glanced at Dr Knee and wondered how she had ever acted so cool and witty and fun around her when this, this, was what she was. 

Adam, fool that he was, looked absolutely affronted by her outburst. He shrugged, as if he wasn't being a voracious ass, and looked at her, and then at Hannah with a chauvinistic, patronising look. That's the missus for you... "Some other time," Adam boldly said, smiling at the two of them before taking his place besides Lindi, a firm hand to her lower back.

-

The man was foul, leering over Hannah as if she was an item to purchase and entertain himself with. Akhila stared, momentarily enraptured by the notion she could slap this awful solicitor. She did not, and she would live to regret that. Akhila cleared her throat. But it wasn’t her that interrupted them—this sweaty awful man making a blatant pass at her wife—the young woman all but screamed. 

Akhila’s attention sharpened to her and the shift from flapping wife, back into meek and mellow. How had she ended up with a man like that? Akhila viewed the illicit cigarette break in a different light. She pitied the woman, but it wasn’t her place to speak. 

“Yes, sure.” Hannah aired, looping her arm into Akhila’s. “Bye for now it was a pleasure meeting you.” Akhila didn’t have to follow Hannah’s gaze to know she was looking at the wife. 

Akhila said nothing, complicit in her silence as they departed for fresh air. “He was foul wasn’t he? And she…fuck me, I didn’t expect that out of her.” 

“I’m fairly certain he attempted to cuckold me and her.” 

Hannah laughed, they’d drifted out of one another’s arms to navigate the narrow pavements. “His mistake! What a joke of a man.” 

“Yes I do pity her…” Akhila tugged her coat, properly looping the belt through to hold it closed against the chill. 

“Thats! Because you’re a softie at heart.” 

Akhila chuckled, stopping ahead of Hannah to meet her luminescent gaze under the lamplight. “I thought I was in deep water?” 

“Not if you look at me like that…”

-

The other couple departed gracefully, swiftly, elegant and serene and unbothered by the muck of Lindi and Adam. Lindi's face was on fire, her forehead ached with tears that wanted to burst forth, but no, she couldn't, not here, not after that fucking outburst. She wasn’t sure whether her mascara was waterproof or not, and that was really all this evening needed to make it the absolute worst. What was wrong with her!? Lindi flicked open her clutch, picking up her case of mints with shaky hands, eagerly sucking on a painfully fresh lozenge.

"I don't know why you had to-" Adam started, whispering to her as they edged to the counter. He took a deep breath in, then let it out in a short burst. Frustrated, annoyed. "Why you had to cause such a scene," he hissed, and she suddenly realised that he was embarrassed. Embarrassed? By her? 

Lindi cracked the mint with her teeth, the air she breathed in through her nose icy fresh from the menthol. The silent treatment was petty, but effective, especially since all she wanted was to smile at the coat check, hand over the number she had kept in her clutch, and walk out of the stupid college hall with the scraps of her dignity intact. It didn’t matter that they did all of this with Adam standing there, silently fuming besides her. 

They had made it around the corner from the college, halfway to the taxi pick-up point, when Adam started again. "I don't know why you would act so jealous about a little thing like getting invited to a tennis club-" 

"I'm not jealous," Lindi evenly said through gritted teeth. Not now, Adam, come on... If only he'd stayed quiet until they'd gotten to the taxis, once inside the cab she could have wrung out the silent treatment until they'd gotten to the hotel because who wants to be the couple having a spat in the back of a cab and then when they got to the hotel room she could have played up the migraine card and oh my God was this what her marriage had been reduced to? "She was making fun of you," she snapped, before Adam could go on about how apparently jealous she was of him making a pass on a married woman who probably wasn’t interested in him anyway. 

"Making fun of me?" Adam scoffed, disbelieving, incredulous at the very suggestion. "Lindi, she was being friendly, more than friendly, I'm sure, inviting us to her club!" 

"She was toying with you," Lindi said, trying not to let the frustration into her voice. Adam always pick-pick-picked at her the moment she let her emotions get involved in their arguments. His emotions were always true and rational, somehow.

Adam huffed, then said, loudly. "She invited us to her club! Everyone at the party would have said that she was being friendly and courteous, until you blew up. Here I thought you liked queers." 

"You were being obnoxious!" Lindi snapped, stopping and turning to face Adam. "All night long, you were being a fucking, pompous bell-end! She was taking the piss out of you and you are too self-absorbed to see it!" 

Adam took in her agitation, her flared nostrils, her wide eyes, and something switched inside him. He looked, concerned, wry and knowing, and Lindi knew she had lost this argument. "Lindi, darling, are you being a bit sensitive?" he asked, and there was no defence from that position. Too defensive and she was hysterical, not enough and he had a right to be concerned. What if she said yes? Yes dear, oh you're so right, I was being sensitive, it's that time of the month, you know, and my hormones and Paige is growing up and after seeing all of our old friends again it made me nostalgic for our good old days in college and you know maybe I need to go back on the Lustral it's all been a bit much lately… 

He looked at her as if she was at the cusp of being Sectioned again. 

"I'm tired, Adam," Lindi said, defeated, and she meant it. "Can we go back to the hotel?" she weakly added on, because this conversation was only going to go in circles. He was completely normal, she was neurotic and oversensitive to other people's opinions. "I'm sorry," she added on, because she wanted this to be over, and the sooner she apologised the sooner they could put this behind them. 

Adam gave Lindi a concerned, husbandly smile as he wrapped his arms around her shoulders. She leaned into his warmth as they walked to the taxis. "Let's get you in bed, shall we?" he said, and Lindi nodded, wishing she could forget this evening.