Charlotte was surprised but relieved that her parents had agreed she could go to London to check out the Art College at Open Day. They’d said they’d pay for the bus, and they’d even provide some spending money.

Emma had spoken to Fiona who was delighted that they were going to come and visit and they could definitely stay with her for a couple of nights. Charlotte couldn’t wait to see Fiona again and had fallen asleep the past few nights with her hand in her knickers imagining their reunion.

The only dark cloud on the horizon was how they were going to find the two hundred pounds needed to pay for Emma’s abortion. Emma’s family had very little spare cash and there was no way Emma could ask them for it anyway. They were devout Catholics and while the shame of Emma being pregnant would be bad enough, the thought of her going for an abortion would have been ten times worse.

Charlotte had dug out her Post Office savings book one afternoon when she had the house to herself. While the fifty-four pounds and fourteen pence would go some way towards it, there was still a lot of cash to find.

“Fuck, it’s hopeless.” Emma slumped back on her bed and curled herself into a ball.

Charlotte was finding it harder and harder to keep Emma’s spirits up. The pregnancy and the secrecy were stressing her out. The blow-up with Deirdre had been vocal and very public. Charlotte still shuddered at the memory of when Deirdre saw Charlotte and Emma sitting together. While Charlotte was glad that she had Emma back as a friend, she knew losing Deirdre after years of friendship was tough on Emma.

“There’s only one thing for it,” Charlotte sighed. “We’ll have to sell our guitars.”

“We can’t. You can’t. You love your guitar.”

Charlotte shrugged.

“The band’s finished anyway. And there’s no other way we can get the money.”

Emma opened her mouth, then shut it again. She knew it too and nodded reluctantly.

“OK then, if you’re sure?”

Saturday afternoon and Charlotte felt tears prickling the corners of her eyes as the man in the guitar shop held her guitar up and twirled it, checking for scratches on the body and the condition of the frets. He’d barely glanced at Emma’s bass but was really taking his time checking out Charlotte’s imitation black Les Paul guitar.

“I can give you eighty for the Les Paul but the bass is only worth forty.”

“I paid you ninety quid for that bass less than two years ago,” Emma countered.

He bit his lip and looked at Charlotte’s guitar again. He was just opening his mouth when Charlotte butted in.

“Give us one hundred and fifty for the two of them.”

He smiled but shook his head.

“Go on, you know we’ll be back soon enough to buy new ones.” She smiled and tilted her head to one side.

“I must be mad,” he laughed, “but alright then. One fifty it is.”

Once outside, Emma hugged Charlotte, whispering thank yous in her ear. Charlotte could feel dampness on Emma’s cheeks. Finally, she straightened up and Charlotte suggested maybe they should pop into the library and phone and arrange everything. Emma sniffed, wiped her eyes with her sleeve and nodded.

Within an hour, everything was sorted. Charlotte and Emma would get the bus and ferry on the Thursday evening, arriving in London on the Friday morning. They’d go to the clinic and Emma would have the procedure and be back at Fiona’s that evening. They’d spend Saturday in London with Fiona and travel back on the Saturday night, getting into Strabane on the Sunday lunchtime.

“It all sounds so simple,” Emma whispered.

“Yeah,” Charlotte agreed. “And no one will ever know.”

As the day of the trip got closer, Charlotte felt her nerves were fraying. The morning sickness had started to kick in and Emma was worried that her Mum was getting suspicious. Some of her clothes were starting to get a bit tight around the waistband and she’d taken to wearing long flowing hippie skirts with an elasticated waist and leggings rather than her usual tight jeans or miniskirts.

Charlotte found her thoughts kept drifting to Fiona. Memories of the weekend in Belfast, the day in the graveyard and that first night in the car all merged together and swam in front of her every time she closed her eyes. She hadn’t spoken to Fiona in weeks as Emma had made all the arrangements with her older sister. Charlotte was excited to be going to London and see the Art College but was so scared for Emma.

Their mums waved them off from the bus station. Both girls were under strict instructions not to talk to anybody on the journey, to phone the minute they arrived in London, and Fiona was to make sure they were back on the bus on Saturday night.

They got off the bus at Larne harbour. The rusting hulk of the Sealink ferry loomed over them. The bus driver told them all to go through the passenger entrance to the terminal and he would collect them once they disembarked in Scotland. It was freezing cold and even when they got inside, it wasn’t much warmer. The doors at the far end were wedged open and a chill wind swirled around the fifteen or twenty people sitting huddled, waiting to board the ferry.

On entering the terminal, they were both handed a piece of green card and a pencil. Charlotte looked at it. ‘Prevention of Terrorism (Temporary Provisions ) Act 1989’ and a Royal Crest were stamped across the top. She read through the questions; name, address, date of birth etc, then stopped. Purpose of visit? She nudged Emma.

“Should we put down ‘having an abortion’ or ‘bombing London?'”

“Don’t fucking joke about it, Charlotte. If we are not on that ferry and I miss that clinic appointment because of you being a smart arse, I’ll fucking kill you.”

Charlotte lowered her head and filled out the rest of the form in silence. She watched police with guns walking slowly around the waiting area and it was only after two plainclothes policemen took up their positions at the security desk that the passengers were called forward. 

They read through Charlotte’s and Emma’s cards slowly. 

“Art College Open Day?” 

There was a contemptuous sneer as the policeman read the card aloud but he finally nodded and the two girls were allowed to get on the ferry. 

The journey was uneventful, though the bus pulled into Victoria Coach station almost an hour late due to a problem with the landing ramps at Stranraer harbour.

Emma uncurled herself and stretched before waving excitedly as she saw Fiona waiting for them. After the obligatory hugs, Fiona promised to get them some breakfast in the cafe at the Art College and the three of them sauntered out of the coach station.

Charlotte wasn’t sure how Emma would be around Fiona. It was the first time the three of them had been together since the night of Fiona’s exhibition and that was before Emma’s outburst about fucking queers. Fortunately, Emma seemed either oblivious to the glances Charlotte and Fiona kept sharing or had decided to ignore them.

When Emma headed to the loo in the cafe, Charlotte and Fiona shared a hurried kiss and a cuddle. 

“Do you think we’ll get any alone time while I’m here?”

Fiona laughed.

“Why? What did you have in mind, you naughty little minx?”

Emma arrived back at that moment, wondering why Charlotte was blushing a deeper shade of beetroot and what was so funny that Fiona was grinning guiltily at her.

Fiona stood up and after telling them she had a tutorial to go to and then needed to do some painting, arranged to see them in the bar opposite the college at 5 pm. 

“Now don’t get lost if you decide to go shopping, and don’t be late.”

Fiona gave them both a hug and headed off. 

“Fuck, I thought Fiona was going to be suspicious when I never ate anything but I don’t think she noticed.”

“Come on, let’s get you to the clinic anyway.”

They found the place easily enough. The woman had given them precise directions over the phone and Charlotte pushed open the black-painted door with the brass knocker and the two of them headed inside. The sound of their footsteps echoed around the walls as they walked down the highly polished parquet flooring.

A woman in a white nurses uniform and a black cardigan looked up from the reception desk. 

“Hello, ladies. Do you have an appointment?”

“I do,” Emma whispered. “It’s Deirdre McLaughlin.”

Charlotte suppressed a giggle. Emma had been worried that somehow her parents would find out about the clinic so they’d decided to use Deirdre’s name instead.

“OK, Deirdre. We have your details here. If you just want to pay now, we’ll get everything started.”

Charlotte and the nurse watched in silence as Emma counted out the two hundred pounds in ten-pound notes. The nurse gathered up the money and after locking it in a drawer, handed a form for Emma to sign. As Emma read the sheet of paper and scrawled her signature at the bottom, the nurse looked at Charlotte. 

“Do you have somewhere to stay this evening?”

Charlotte nodded.

“Good. You can come back to collect your friend at four o’clock this afternoon.”

“Can’t I stay with her?”

“No, we don’t allow partners or friends in and she will be asleep for most of the time anyway. It’s best you go off and keep yourself busy.”

Emma hugged Charlotte. Eventually, the nurse coughed and Emma unwrapped her arms and turned to go.

“Good luck,” Charlotte whispered as the doors swung closed behind them.

~~~

Charlotte was relieved when she got back to the Art College that the Open Day tours were still going on. She fell in love with the place. She wanted more than anything to go somewhere like this and just draw and paint all day. She followed the tour around the college and spoke with lecturers and current students about all the courses she could do. After a while, she felt her brain was going to explode with all the different avenues open to her. There were so many galleries, exhibitions, cinemas and theatres around the place that it seemed like another world to Strabane.

At four o’clock, she returned to the clinic. A different nurse was at the desk and when Charlotte told her she was here for her friend, Deirdre, the nurse told her to follow her.

Emma was sitting on the edge of the bed. She was dressed but looked deathly pale.

“Are you OK?”

Emma nodded but Charlotte could see the tears welling up in her eyes. She took the couple of steps necessary and wrapped Emma in her arms as the tears started to fall. A nurse came up with a box of pills in a clear plastic bag and told her to take two pills every four hours and to phone them if there was any pain or unusual discharge. She outlined to Charlotte that there would be bleeding but that was normal and shouldn’t be any more than a heavy period. When Charlotte nodded to show she understood, the nurse patted Emma on the back and wished her good luck. With that, they stepped back onto the street.

“Just like that. Easy, eh?” Emma muttered. Charlotte went to open her mouth but Emma raised her hand and told her she didn’t want to talk about it. She just wanted to get to Fiona’s and go to sleep.

~~~

They pushed open the door of the pub and saw Fiona across the room.

“Oh, for fuck’s sake. What’s happened to her?” 

It did not take a brain surgeon to recognise that Emma looked wiped out.

“She’s not feeling well. She says she just wants to go home and sleep.”

Fiona looked around the bar then back at Emma. Charlotte could see her thinking.

“OK then. Come on, we’ll take you home. You can see if you can sleep this off, whatever this is. OK?”

Emma nodded and they slowly headed to Fiona’s flat. Fiona was sharing with three other art students but the place was empty when they arrived. Emma collapsed onto the bed and Fiona covered her with a blanket as Charlotte unlaced her boots.

They slipped out of the room and Fiona closed the door gently behind her. She turned to Charlotte with a wicked gleam in her eye.

“You are so naughty, drugging my sister just so you can get some alone time.”

Charlotte opened her mouth to protest but Fiona took Charlotte’s face in her hands and kissed her passionately on the mouth. Charlotte moaned. She hadn’t been sure if Fiona would still want her or would have got another girlfriend or anything but as they kissed, Charlotte didn’t care, she just wanted Fiona. Now.

Fiona had her pressed against her bedroom door and Charlotte was worried Emma would hear them. But when Fiona slipped her hand under Charlotte’s skirt, she forgot about everything. Fiona’s fingers teased Charlotte’s slit through tights and knickers and Charlotte squirmed, her tongue in Fiona’s mouth.

“Fuck me,” she whimpered as Fiona moved her mouth to Charlotte’s neck.

“Such a needy little bitch, Aren’t you?” 

“Fuck. Yesss.”

Fiona’s fingers tugged Charlotte’s tights down to just above her knees.

“If you are going to be a proper slut, you’ll need to wear less restrictive clothing.”

Fiona tugged Charlotte’s knickers down as well.

“Yes, Miss.” 

Charlotte whimpered as Fiona dragged her fingers slowly over Charlotte’s slit. The middle finger slipped between her lips and Charlotte felt Fiona smearing juices over her clit as she bit her lip to stop Emma from hearing her.

Charlotte felt Fiona’s breath on her neck as she whispered in her ear just what she was going to do to her. How she was going to use her like a needy little fucktoy.

Fiona slowly pushed two fingers inside Charlotte. Her thumb drew circles around the clit as her fingers curled inside. Charlotte gasped. Fiona’s other hand gripped her hair and tugged it, snapping Charlotte’s head back. Charlotte felt teeth on her neck as Fiona’s fingers tapped on her sweet spot inside her.

Charlotte thrust her hips forward, trying to hump Fiona’s hand as she began to writhe and squirm. She felt the heat rising. She felt such a slut being fingered with her tights and knickers round her knees, up against the door, with her best friend asleep in the room right next to them.

Fiona’s fingers moved faster and faster, pressing in deeper and deeper with every thrust. Charlotte could hear herself squelch as Fiona took her. Charlotte bit her hand to stifle the scream as she came hard. She spasmed and shook as she writhed, impaled on Fiona’s fingers. 

Finally, it stopped and as she slumped against the door, Fiona turned her and laid her down on her back on the hall floor. Charlotte stared up at her, watching as Fiona slipped off her knickers and straddled Charlotte’s face. She’d pulled her skirt up around her waist like a belt and Charlotte buried her face in Fiona’s curls. She moved her face from side to side like a puppy with a bone as she licked and sucked and rubbed herself against Fiona.

She felt Fiona’s warm and sticky juices on her skin, and licked and lapped, wanting to taste more and more. Fiona gripped her hair and pulled her face in deeper. Fiona rode Charlotte, fast and hard. Charlotte had her tongue thrust deep inside Fiona and her nose rubbing her clit when Fiona tightened her thighs, squeezing Charlotte’s head tight and orgasmed.

She climbed off Charlotte and helped her up.

“Come on, we can go for a drink in the pub around the corner. We’ll bring back some chips for Emma.”

Charlotte licked the remaining traces of Fiona’s cum from her lips as she tugged her tights and knickers back up and followed her.

The pub was full of after-work drinkers getting the weekend off to the right start. Fiona and Charlotte squeezed their way in and slid onto a couple of stools that had just been vacated by two men in suits.

“Alright, Derek? I’ll have a gin and tonic and my friend here will have a cider and blackcurrant.”

The barman smiled at Fiona and got their drinks, ignoring the groups of men waving notes at him as Fiona introduced Charlotte.

“There you go, ladies. Anything else, don’t be afraid to shout.”

Fiona took the change and grinned as Derek slowly dragged his fingers along Fiona’s hand, staring into Fiona’s eyes and licking his lips as he did so. She watched him finally turn and go to serve the next customer before she turned to Charlotte and explained that he was the sweetest man in the world. Charlotte felt envious. It was clear from the way he behaved that he had a thing for Fiona and Charlotte felt the jealousy rising immediately.

“So,” Charlotte asked. “Are you and Derek an item?”

Fiona’s drink exploded as she snorted into her gin and tonic. Giggling, she reached for a tissue and mopped up the worst of the mess.

“Oh, Charlotte, Derek is so gay. You really need to get out more.”

After that, Charlotte relaxed and caught up with all the news about London and the course and everything that had happened since they’d last seen each other. They were just thinking about heading home when they got dragged into a discussion at the bar.

A young man in his early twenties was wearing a silver puffa jacket and trying, unsuccessfully, to defend his fashion choices.

“Look lads,” he argued. “This is the height of fashion. It cost me nearly a hundred quid. It’s designer and everything.”

Derek held up his hands to quieten the commotion as everyone questioned how he could pay so much money for that.

“No, no, he’s right. I’ve got one of those at home.”

Everyone turned to look at him.

“See,” said the guy. “Derek’s a man of taste.”

“Yeah,” retorted Derek. “ I keep it wrapped around my hot water tank.”

The whole pub fell about laughing as Derek wiped a tear from the corner of his eye. He noticed the two girls sliding off their stools.

“Are you off, Fiona?”

He came around the bar and gave them both a hug. 

“Lovely to meet you, Charlotte. Hope we’ll see you in here again.”

Charlotte smiled and looked at Fiona.

“I hope so too.”

Back in Fiona’s flat, with bags of chips in hand, they sat on the edge of the bed and offered some to Emma. Charlotte could sense Fiona was getting really suspicious. When Fiona nipped to the toilet, Charlotte told Emma to take a couple of the pills and eat some food. Emma sat up and scowled at her.

“I might feel sick but I’m not deaf, you know. Fucking lesbians.”

Charlotte rolled her eyes and was just about to tell Emma not to start this again when she saw her friend was smiling.

“You fucking bitch,” Charlotte hissed, reaching forward to give her a pretend slap just as Fiona walked back in.

“Well, I’m glad to see you’re feeling better. I was worried there. The thought of phoning Mum and her coming over and interrogating us about what you’d been up to was a scary thought.”

She raised an eyebrow at Emma who just lowered her eyes and stuffed a handful of chips into her mouth.

The next day flew by all too quickly for Charlotte. It seemed like only minutes since they’d arrived in London and already they were standing amongst the buses and breathing in exhaust fumes as they waited for the coach back to Northern Ireland.

When the coach doors opened, Emma gave her sister a peck on the cheek and a quick hug and bounded up the steps. Fiona turned to Charlotte and they had a much more leisurely hug and one last, long, lingering kiss before Charlotte reluctantly broke away and picked up her bag. 

“I’ll be back in two months,” Fiona told her. “I’ll be home for Christmas.” She ran her tongue around the edge of her lips. “And next time, I’m going to tie you to the bed and ride your face for hours.”

Charlotte could feel herself blush as she walked down the aisle towards Emma, who promptly fell asleep and didn’t wake up until they arrived at the ferry terminal.