The Club

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Table of Contents

ACKNOWLEDGEMENTS

DEDICATION

Prologue

CHAPTER 1

CHAPTER 2

CHAPTER 3

CHAPTER 4

CHAPTER 5

CHAPTER 6

CHAPTER 7

CHAPTER 8

CHAPTER 9

CHAPTER 10

CHAPTER 11

Epilogue

About A.L. Brooks

Other Books from Ylva Publishing

Nights of Silk and Sapphire

Heart’s Surrender

Don’t Be Shy (Vol 1 & 2)

Hot Line

Coming from Ylva Publishing

Just My Luck

Grounded

The Club

by A.L. Brooks

ACKNOWLEDGEMENTS

Firstly, I want to thank those wonderful women at Ylva for seeing something in my writing they wanted to publish—you made a girl’s dreams come true!

I particularly want to thank Astrid Ohletz for offering me this chance, Gill McKnight for her amazing project management, Gill and Jove Belle for editing the book to within an inch of its life, and Andrea Bramhall for her fantastic support and encouragement from start to finish.

Next, my beta readers—you know who you are—who gave me valuable feedback and also immense encouragement on this, my first novel.

Thirdly, all my wonderful friends and colleagues for being so excited about this on my behalf and never letting me forget that this is a pretty amazing thing to be doing. Though, let’s be honest, it’s not likely I’d forget in a hurry anyway.

And lastly—you, whoever you are, holding this in your hands right now. Thanks for reading, I sincerely hope you enjoy…

DEDICATION

For Y&T—you know why

Prologue

Brixton, 1993

Mandy grinned as Laura pushed open the cubicle door and pulled her inside. The main door to the toilets swung shut behind them, muffling the thump of the music coming from upstairs in the main room. The rave was in full swing, the dance floor jumping with the movements of hundreds of people all sweating out a good time.

Laura slammed the cubicle door shut behind them, and Mandy pressed up close against her in the confined space. She reached for Laura as she pushed the bolt across. Laura turned, and instantly her tongue was in Mandy’s mouth, hands pushing inside her tee shirt. She cupped the bare breasts, squeezed, and then groaned as Mandy’s nipples hardened under her palms. Mandy pushed up into her, breathing raggedly through her mouth. The air around them stank; the toilets here were not ideal, but sometimes there was no other option. When the need took her, as it had fifteen minutes ago when she and Laura had met in the middle of the dance floor, she made do with what was available.

Mandy had noticed Laura some time before they’d started dancing. Her bleached-blonde hair, cropped nice and short, smoking hot body, and those vivid green eyes that sparkled under the club lights… She was breathtaking. Mandy hadn’t been able to look away. The heat between them had been instant and intense, and when Laura had bent to Mandy’s ear and offered her a quick fuck with no questions asked, Mandy hadn’t hesitated.

Just as Laura’s fingers started to pop the buttons on Mandy’s faded Levi’s, the outer door opened again. Two women entered, chatting to one another. Laura didn’t pause, and Mandy ignored them in favour of concentrating on Laura’s fingers as they worked their way into her underwear. Laura ran her hand through the wetness of Mandy’s pussy and rammed two fingers straight into her cunt. Letting out a loud groan of satisfaction, Mandy threw her head back. It thumped against the cubicle wall, and she giggled at the sound.

Yeah, you like that? asked Laura, her eyes darkening to a deep jade colour.

Mandy panted. "Fuck, yes."

Oh shit, are you fucking kidding me? a woman said, followed by her hitting the partition, making the wall of the cubicle shake. Hey, fucking carpet munchers, take it someplace else!

Laura’s fingers stopped mid-thrust, and she and Mandy looked at each other, grinning. Then Laura moved again, and Mandy groaned again.

The woman hit the door, twice.

I’m fucking serious, lezzas! Get the fuck outta there. Some of us need to piss! The woman was angry.

Mandy twitched slightly. This might get nasty. Laura stopped moving and met her gaze. Her eyes held the same hint of the doubt Mandy was feeling.

Jesus, are you serious? Are they fucking in there? The second woman sounded younger and considerably more amused than the first.

Yes, snarled the first woman and followed up with a kick to the door.

Shit, murmured Mandy, and Laura nodded slightly. She pulled her fingers out of Mandy, and Mandy did up her fly.

Sorry, whispered Laura, shaking her head.

It’s okay; no point putting ourselves at risk. Sometimes you get away with it, sometimes not. Mandy shrugged and planted a kiss on Laura’s lips before she shifted to give Laura room to slide the bolt back.

They shimmied around the door in the enclosed space and met the glare of the angry young woman. She was tall, too thin, and wore her blonde hair pulled back in a tight ponytail. Her neck was covered in tattoos, and her face twisted in hate.

About fucking time. Disgusting cunts.

Oi, no need for that! snarled Laura. We’re going, all right?

Fuck off, lezza bitch.

Hey, get over it! snapped Mandy as she pushed past the woman with Laura right behind her.

Don’t know why you lot don’t just stay in your own clubs. Stop bringing your fucking queer shit to our places.

Mandy turned back to the woman. Laura carried on walking, calling over her shoulder, Leave it; she’s not worth it.

Mandy looked the woman up and down. Yeah, you’re right, she said with a sneer. As she turned to leave, the woman slapped her. Mandy saw it coming, but not quick enough to avoid it. When it connected with her face, it didn’t have enough power to send her to the floor, but it still rocked her back on her heels. Her lip stung as if cut, and a moment later, her mouth filled with the coppery tang of blood.

Jesus! The younger woman pulled at her friend’s arm.

Laura grabbed Mandy and yanked her towards the door.

Come on, enough. Let’s get out of here, she said firmly.

Mandy went with her, stumbling as she tried to get her brain to engage with the rest of her body. The bitch fucking slapped her! What the fuck?

She wiped the blood from her mouth with the back of her hand. The cut stung like fuck. People stared as Laura led her to the cloakroom upstairs. Mandy ignored them.

Where’s your ticket? Laura asked her. Mandy rummaged in her pockets, found the green stub, and handed it to the girl working the counter. The girl stared at Mandy’s mouth for a moment, and Laura gave her a dirty look. She hurried to retrieve Mandy’s bag and jacket.

Out in the cool evening air, they walked down Brixton Road towards the Tube station. After a few moments, they came to a bench. Laura tugged Mandy over to it, pushed her down, and stood in front of her.

You got any tissue to clean that up? She pointed at Mandy’s lip.

Still in a slight daze, Mandy nodded, undid her bag, and found a packet of travel tissues. She pulled one out and dabbed gently at her lip. After cleaning around the cut, she pressed the tissue against it to staunch the flow. It wasn’t bleeding heavily, but it was annoyingly persistent.

Laura ran her hands through her short hair and puffed out a big sigh as she locked her hands together behind her neck.

Sorry, she said, looking down at Mandy.

Mandy waved one hand in the air between them. Shit, not your fault. You don’t need to apologise. It’s a risk we take in places like that.

I know, but… Well, it just fucking annoys me, you know?

I know.

And she did know. Mandy didn’t like to take women home to her place—her flat was private, and she didn’t want strangers in it. But equally, she’d had one too many morning-after conversations when she’d gone back to other women’s homes. She wanted her sex life uncomplicated, no strings. The only way she’d found that worked was random encounters such as the one she’d been in the middle of with Laura, quick and hard in some secluded part of a club. Unfortunately, most times that meant mixed clubs, as there just weren’t enough lesbian ones available, even in a city as big as London. Mixed meant risk. The risk of being found, of being verbally abused, of being thrown out, or—as she’d discovered tonight—worse.

Look, are you okay to get home? Laura dropped her arms to her sides and shuffled on the spot, clearly keen to get going. Mandy couldn’t blame her.

Yeah, I’m fine. You take off.

Look after yourself, said Laura.

You too. See you around.

Laura turned and marched off, tucking her head down into the collar of her jacket.

Mandy shivered and pulled her own jacket tighter around her body against the wind that knifed up the road. She didn’t blame Laura for disappearing, but it did rankle a bit. Left on her own in the middle of Brixton with a bleeding face wasn’t exactly her idea of a great night out. But then, what did she expect? She and Laura had only shared first names and about five minutes of interrupted intimacy. She wasn’t pretending it was something it wasn’t.

She pulled the tissue away from her lip and then patted the cut tenderly with a fingertip. The blood seemed to have stopped, thankfully. She dipped into her handbag again and found the little tube of lip salve she always carried around with her. Using her fingertip, she gently covered the cut with the soothing balm and then stuffed it, along with the tissues, back in her bag.

She stood up, took a deep breath, and started for home. So much for an easy, fun Saturday night out. She was fed up with this—too many nights ended in disappointment these days. She was thirty-two, way too old to be slapped down by some stupid bitch in a toilet.

She needed a change of scenery.

CHAPTER 1

Manchester, present day

Kath held the steaming hot mug carefully in one hand as she flicked off the main kitchen light. By the soft light of the under-cupboard spotlights, she made her way out of the room and down the hall.

Mum, I’ve got your cocoa, she called and nudged open the door to her mother’s bedroom. She stepped into the warm room. The bedside lamp was on, casting its muted light in a small pool that left most of the room in darkness. At first it looked as though her mum was sleeping upright, but she was merely gazing off into space, eyes unfocused. Kath put the mug on the bedside table. Her mum slowly turned towards her.

Is that you, Kath? Her voice was tremulous as she clearly struggled to focus in on Kath’s face in front of her.

Yes, Mum, it’s me. Got your cocoa, she repeated; sometimes it took two or three goes for things to register.

Her mum managed a weak smile. Oh, you are a love, she whispered and tried, unsuccessfully, to push herself a little more upright.

Here, let me. Kath kept her voice light and cheery. She slipped her arms around her mum and gently pulled her up. Before resting her back against the headboard, she made sure the pillow ran dead centre down her spine.

Thank you, love, her mum whispered again.

Kath swallowed hard. Sometimes it really was just too much. The pain of seeing her mum like this and the energy Kath expended on caring for her… All of it threatened to overwhelm her. But what was she to do? Care for her mum fell to her as her brother refused to help.

We should put her in a home, he’d said. It’s too much for you to take on, and frankly, I don’t have the time to just drop everything when you can’t cope. I have a wife and kids. It’s not fair to them. It was your decision to take her in, your decision to leave the professionals out of this. His words, delivered in his usual clipped tones, rattled around her brain, their sharp edges catching her like needles. There was a lot right in what he had said. But the idea of her mum going into care was far too upsetting for Kath.

Her mum sighed and reached for the cocoa. Kath intercepted her.

I’ve got it, Mum, she said brightly. She held the mug close to her mum’s lips, letting her come forward slightly to sip, trusting she still had enough awareness not to gulp the hot drink too quickly.

Later, after her mum had gone to sleep, Kath tucked her in, switched on the night light, and left the room. She leaned against the wall outside for a moment and breathed deeply. Today had been a long one. She rubbed at the back of her neck, trying to ease out some of the tension that seemed permanently knotted there these days. She rolled her shoulders, pushed herself away from the wall, and walked down the hallway to the kitchen. As she passed the table, she picked up her fags.

She stepped out of the back door into the cool May air and plopped herself down on one of the plastic patio chairs. She lit her cigarette, inhaled, and let the smoke trickle gently out of her nostrils as she gazed up at the night sky. It had been a beautiful spring day that had left a pink tinge on the horizon with the streaks of cloud stretched like layers of a creamy cake across the sky. It was almost perfect, and sitting out here, experiencing it alone, made her heart clench just a little.

Maybe she should call Julie, talk a bit more about their plans for tomorrow. At the thought of Julie, she smiled. Julie, with the long black hair that draped so seductively over Kath’s face as she straddled her, riding out her orgasm as she thrust down hard on Kath’s fingers. Julie, who didn’t really understand Kath’s home arrangements and didn’t understand why Kath couldn’t come running every time she called.

She stubbed out her fag in the overflowing ashtray and walked back inside for a cold beer. She popped the cap and strolled into the living room. Her phone was on the sofa, right where she’d left it earlier. Glancing at the screen, she noticed one missed call and a voicemail. She checked the missed call—Julie. As she listened to the message, the sound of Julie’s voice made her smile. Then, as she took in the words, her smile faded. Key phrases zapped into her ears and ricocheted around her mind.

I need to end this.

Too difficult to find time to be together.

Found someone more reliable, more committed.

Sorry to do this.

Really thought we could have had something, but I can’t share you.

Kath hit the end key and dropped the phone. She was numb. Sure, Julie had been struggling with Kath’s need to put her mum first, but she hadn’t realised it had got this bad. Briefly, she considered calling Julie back, but then she replayed the words from the voicemail in her head. It was a lost cause.

They had only been dating about three months, but she, too, had thought they could have had something very good together. But caring for Mum as she did challenged Julie’s ideas of how a relationship should normally progress. Last minute cancellations. Too many nights settled in to watch a DVD rather than out on the town as promised. Quick sex sneaked into the few free hours she had.

She should have acted sooner. Instead, compressed under the weight of all she was juggling, she had hoped it would miraculously resolve itself.

Well, in a way, part of it had.

Kath exhaled, slumped back against the sofa, and took a long pull on her beer. Her brother’s words mixed with Julie’s and echoed through her mind. She had some difficult choices to make.

* * *

So, Jacky handed Kath her pint of lager, how’s the new carer working out for your mum?

They were in the Soldier’s Arms, their favourite haunt. Jacky was Kath’s closest friend; the one person she didn’t have a problem confiding in. Strange, as Jacky wasn’t the touchy-feely type at all. She was often thought of as all surface and no depth. But Kath knew differently. Jacky’s stocky, butch exterior, almost a mirror of Kath’s own, contained a warm heart and a lot of love for the people closest to her.

They’d not seen each other since Jacky and Tania got married back in April. Yet another reason why she’d re-evaluated her life, worked out her money and her priorities, and got in touch with a private home-care agency.

Leaning back against the bar, Kath took a big gulp of her beer and smacked her lips in pleasure as the cool liquid slipped down her throat. Great, actually, she said. They’re not cheap, but something had to give. So it’s worth it.

How many nights are they in? Jacky’s gravelly voice rumbled across the space between them.

I’ve got them four evenings a week, Tuesday to Friday, seven until eleven. Just couldn’t afford the weekend option, as everyone wants that. But this way, I at least get some time out. I can go to the cinema or hit the bars or clubs if I want to.

Jacky nodded. It’s good that you’ve done it. We missed you for sure, and Tania was getting so worried about what it was doing to you, cooped up at home all day and night.

Well, it did get a little claustrophobic, I must admit.

See, so it worked out okay in the end. I know Julie leaving was shit, but she kind of did you a favour; didn’t she? Jacky wasn’t one to mince words.

Kath nodded ruefully. Yeah, she did. Bit of a hard lesson to learn, but hey, I’m there now, and things can only get better, right?

Definitely. So, any hot chicks on your radar?

Kath snorted. Well, that’s the fucking irony of it. Ever since I’ve had all this extra time to play, I haven’t found anyone who interests me enough. Mind you, I’m still getting used to all this…freedom…so I’m not even sure I want anything serious anyway.

You should get yourself down to the Ace, find a little one-night-stand action. Jacky grinned.

Kath thumped Jacky in the arm, laughed, and mimicked a vomiting action with her finger near her mouth. The Ace was a cheap club tucked into the bowels of Stretford, somewhere she and Jacky had frequented years ago, before they knew any better.

Ugh, no thanks. The trash that goes in there, I wouldn’t touch with a barge pole. And anyway, you’re a happily married woman. What would you know about the pulling possibilities at the Ace these days?

Jacky smirked. Nothing at all. I’m just guessing it hasn’t changed.

Kath smiled. No, not one bit, so I’ve heard. She mock-shuddered. I have no intention of setting foot in there again. Still, a one-night stand would be quite nice, actually. It’s just knowing where to go to meet someone who’d be interested.

Ever done the chat room thing? You could always use it just to find out where all the women go these days. Or have cybersex.

Kath grimaced. No thanks. I want a real woman, hands-on, thank you very much. But yeah, maybe going online just to find out where everyone goes would be a good way to start.

* * *

Kath sat back in her chair and raised her arms above her head to stretch. She moaned loudly, the pull on the muscles of her back feeling so good. She’d been at her desk since eight thirty in the front-room-turned-office where she carried out her tax consulting work. It was now—she glanced at the clock in the top right of her screen—two in the afternoon. Although she’d looked after her mum’s needs during that time, she had neglected her own. Her water glass was empty, and she couldn’t remember when she’d last filled it. Had she eaten? Her stomach growled. Okay, that would be a no, then.

She pushed back the chair and stumbled to her feet, her legs wobbling from their lack of use. She did some more stretches and then headed out of the room to check on her mum. Kath paused at the doorway of her mum’s room, not wanting to march in if she was sleeping. Her mum was sitting up in her armchair, staring at the small flat-screen TV. Rather than stepping in and talking to her, Kath hesitated. She just didn’t have it in her right now, and from the looks of it, her mum was off in another world anyway.

Kath sighed, stepped quietly from the room, and headed to the kitchen. Sun streamed into the large room from the patio door at the back, and she took a few minutes to have a quick smoke outside before she made herself lunch. The garden looked as though it needed some work again. Maybe Saturday she’d help her mum out to one of the patio chairs while she worked out there. Maybe.

She pulled together a glass of orange juice with a thick doorstop of a roast chicken sandwich and headed back to