Church Steps and Clubs
Dear Mary,
Easter is shockingly pleasant here! Petunia is in England with Vernon and his whole awful family, so it’s just my Ma and Pa with me. I like that, I think. Things are quiet all the time, which I can’t hate. I read most of the times, or write letters to you that I take into town to buy postage for. I see Severus sometimes, down there. He doesn’t ever say hi anymore. I like that too. Mostly, I miss you loads. Laugh all you want from lively old London, but you’re the best thing on my mind! As much as I’m glad to be free of the lads and their escapades for a good while, I wish you were with me to enjoy it. Everything wouldn’t just be shockingly pleasant, but downright euphoric.
Thinking of you always,
Lily Evans
(P.S. That’s why I can’t wait for the summer.)
(P.P.S. Alone in the countryside, you and me.)
---
Dear Lily,
I find (with equal shock) that I agree with you! The weather has been lovely around here, especially for this time of year, and the triplets and I do our best to make the most of it. Julien, my friend- I think I’ve told you some about him, keeps me company when they drag me off to the park, or something like that. I can’t even complain about my mother, she has bigger thigns on her mind than finding fault in me these days. All this gives me time to find bits of you all over though, I reckon. I see you everywhere I turn. Julien gives me loads of shit for it, but can you blame me? You’ll love this city one day, when I give you my own personal tour. As always, this just means I miss you loads.
Thinking right back,
Mary Macdonald
(P.S. That sounds better than a dream.)
(P.S. London next, I promise.)
Easter service was a tiresome affair, most for the preparation that went along with it. Break was half over, and though Mary intended to treasure the rest of her time, she found it hard. The triplets took turns reading Alice in Wonderland to each other, as she did and redid their braids for church. They had on their white dresses, nicely pressed from the secondhand store down a couple blocks. Mary matched them, almost. Her dress was light green, green like grass, Josie called it.
Last night, her mother spent an hour in the shower sobering up under ice cold water. Once the girls were dressed, their hair all done, she staggered forth from the bedroom looking groomed and prepared to face the neighborhood. Her aches and pains hadn’t left in the night. The troubles that she usually soothed with drinking took a toll on her.
Mary reached out a hand to hold, if needed, but was swatted away.
“Ma doesn’t like it when we help her,” Susie piped up. “Says she’s good, says she doesn’t need help like that.”
“And I don’t want it either,” their mother added. A proud woman, through and through. She even smirked a little when she spat it out, right into Mary’s face.
“We have to be early to get our favorite spot.” Jane interrupted their showdown, tugging on her sleeve.
“Good then, we’re all ready,” Mary squeezed her hand. “Shall we?”
“Didn’t think you’d be so eager to go,” her mother cut in. She drew herself up to her full height.
“Everyone has something to pray for, Ma. Even if it’s different from yours.”
Out on the street, Mary found that to be true. The triplets cut a path across the crowded sidewalk, swelled with their neighbors. Service would be packed, she thought, as she watched a mixture of people file towards the church and away from it.
Some people she recognized. Adanna waved with a slight smile, holding to the arm of her newest man and walking beside her mother. This was the one, she heard. And besides, she was late. Maybe this one had to be the one. Niles tipped his cap, doling out lollies to the girls. His brother died the day after Mary got back in a drive-by. He never did get to say goodbye. Mary knew what they prayed for.
Some people were strangers. An old man clutching a walker. A polished fellow with a sharp beard. A young woman bouncing a child on each hip. They might have been unknown, but it wasn’t hard to wonder what they might’ve asked from God, too.
The sun was bright overhead, casting shade from the buildings onto the street. Winter was turning to spring, or spring was turning to summer, Mary never could tell. Still, it felt like a rare nice day in the city. Not a cloud in sight, nor the slightest hint of rain. The triplets skipped from one pool of light to the other, holding hands. Mary and her mother watched from behind. With a sight like that, they were unable to contain a smile.
Church, even when it made her sober up, agreed well with Ann Macdonald. Mary imagined she found peace in the idea that suffering would eventually mean something. When she felt particularly vindictive, she must enjoy the idea that Mary’s father would rot in hell.
But the act of worship itself made those vindictive moods go away. She smiled at Mary, in the sun, and looked like she really knew her.
“I hope they have a chapel at that school of yours,” her mother murmured. “It’s important, Mary. It’s always important to pray.”
“Sure, we get to pray,” Mary shrugged in reply.
“Well I pray for you, you know.” Her mother said matter-of-factly. “Every night and every day I pray for you.”
That meant I love you, in her own language. I see you, but I don’t want to look.
She smiled, nodding slightly. “So do I.”
The church was on the corner of the block that currently faced the sun. St. Anthony’s had their door thrown wide open, and as the hour turned the bells began to toll loud enough for the whole neighborhood to hear. Each of the Macdonald girls had been baptized inside that church. Her mother told an excellent story of first coming to London, back when she was very young. She remembered the church as an explosive pillar of light, one bright spot in leaving behind her home and her friends.
She threw herself into a devout life, after that. Or as devout of a life you could have if you couldn’t really afford one at all. Kids came with that, quick after a young marriage. Being left was more ritualistic than anything.
“Welcome!” One of the altar boys at the door, handed her a pamphlet, which her mother accepted.
They took a pew off to the side with some other friends. Her mother didn’t keep up with their neighbors, but that all changed when Mary came back. They gravitated towards her on instinct, based on a penchant for the unknown.
Adanna’s mother sat beside them, alongside Adanna’s older brother. He’d been in the service until a couple weeks ago. His eyes always had that far-off look. Mary hoped she’d never stare like that, not ever in her life. Adanna told her he hadn’t said much when he got back, nor had he laughed like he used to. She’d keep him in her prayers, now.
There were other families to be caught up with, on the other side. Adanna introduced her to her newest lad, a tough looking Nigerian fellow named Neil, before making the rounds to show her off to the other girls.
“You remember Mary Macdonald from school, right?” she asked each time. “She’s come home for this appearance, ya know.”
In the five minutes before the service, Mary must’ve met and re-met half the girls within ten years of their age. She must’ve been the first one of them to ever really get out. Most escapees were lads. Lads went off to university; lads got real jobs. Mary was the first one of them to go away for school. She was proud, and somehow ashamed. They didn’t know half of what she hid.
Finally, after she’d made her rounds, the congregation took their seats. Susie and Jane sat on either side of her, with Josie on her lap. There weren’t enough spots for everyone, after all.
The priest began to drone and the triplets quickly got antsy. They prayed for safety for their families, food on the table, and a safe place to sleep at night. They prayed for peace in the neighborhood and peace outside the city and peace in all hearts. The girls shifted back and forth, waiting for communion. Next year, they’d be old enough to take it all by themselves, but for now they revelled in their little alone time to goof off without reprimand.
She smiled widely, squeezing them closely, when Father Smith trailed off. Maybe they would be magic, one day. She could save them from all this.
After communion, the service came to its end. Josie nodded off, head slumped to the side, without about thirty minutes left. Jane followed about five minutes later, and Susan only managed to hold out for five minutes more.
Mary let them sleep, if only for a little while longer.
***
After the service, the girls walked their mother to her shift at the diner. Mary promised to be home for dinner, even if she went out later that night. Easter demanded ham for dinner, a nice big ham, or the memories and imaginings of one. Julien would pick her up for a Sunday night at the clubs once that was over and done with.
“Lunch?” she asked the girls, watching her mother’s figure recede into the seedy alley that held the back entrance of work.
“Yes please!” Josie smiled. “I’ve missed Mary lunches.”
“It’s been too long,” she agreed. Christmas break was two months ago, and even that felt painful. Maybe not to be away from the city, but to be away from her sisters. Sometimes, when the streets were safe and her mother was pleasant, she thought about how she would come to live here, one day. Or she imagined she would, if all went well.
“Can we get sandwiches?” Susie piped up. “Ma doesn’t let us get sandwiches.”
Jane laughed, “Too messy.”
“Let’s do it, then!”
The triplets took off in front of her, faster than she thought possible. They dug on the sandwich shop, alright.
***
Once their food was ordered and out Mary gathered the girls and took them to a park, maybe the only nice one around. They found a bench in the sun and spread out their haul on their laps. Susie and Jane split the salt and vinegar chips; Mary and Josie split the plain. Each girl had their own sandwich and a napkin tucked down the front of their nice Sunday dresses to ward off the mess. She felt happy, satisfied even, like the kind of feeling she’d write about in her letters to Lily.
“There’s no food like this at school,” she laughed.
“But I thought it was fancy?” Susie questioned.
“Fancy, exactly. This is something else.” Without shining silverware and nice linen napkins, food took on a different, somehow more satisfying quality.
“Are fancy things not happy?” Jane’s voice was muffled by a bite of ham and cheese.
Mary laughed, thinking of something like the Yule Ball, or stone courtyards that the girls couldn’t even imagine.
“When you do them with people you get on with, I suppose. And depending on who you are.” Slytherins rather got a ride on those sort of fancy things. Mary only did when Lily and Marlene were at her side.
“So you have people you get on with, then?” Josie finished their particular line of questioning with an inquiring glance. They liked to hear about her friends, who Mary described like the most fantastical fairytale characters. She couldn’t decide what she would go with tonight, over the top or something more simple.
“Sure, some more than others, I guess.”
“A lad?” Susan knew the real kick to it. She was smart like that, pretending to stare absentmindedly at her sandwich and disguise the somewhat evil smile behind her eyes.
“No,” she shook her head softly, sheepishly. “Not a lad, but someone else.”
“Someone else!” Josie laughed, elbowing both her sisters.
“Can there be someone else?” Jane finished.
She twisted Lily’s ring on her finger. It was still facing her, that heart firmly captured.
“You can fall in love with anyone,” she told them. Nobody ever told her that when she was younger. She didn’t know if it was right or wrong, to fall in love with anyone. “Or anybody can make you happier than you’d believe, I guess. If that’s what love is. I have a girl who makes me very happy, if it’s right or wrong.”
Josie hugged her halfway, wrapping her up with one little arm.
“I wanna meet anyone you love, Mary,” she piped up.
“Or anyone that makes you a little bit happy!” Jane added.
“Whoever they ever are!” Susie finished.
“Good,” she was close to crying, or something like that. “I love you girls, you know. I love you all so much.”
“We’ll get to meet her one day, won’t we?” Susie asked, speaking for her sisters too.
“Of course,” Mary smoothed their hair and pressed a light kiss to each of their foreheads.
Lily would visit one day, and they would all be happy. If she would come, that is. If she devised to want Mary at all.
***
In all the time she’d known him, Julien had gotten very good at leaning in wait. Outside the train station, outside her flat. After she’d tucked in the girls and promised to take them to ice cream tomorrow, her last day in London, she slipped past her mother on the couch and took the stairs down to the street to find him there, waiting under a street light.
It was warm enough that his clubbing outfits had taken on a life of their own. He wore a tight white polo that revealed his dark collar bones and tight jeans that showed off all kinds of other things. His sunglasses shielded his eyes, darker than ever in the night, so all the light on his face poured into a wide grin. He always made her smile, standing like that. More magical than anyone at Hogwarts, without a touch of the real thing.
“Your mother didn’t kill you, eh?” he snorted a little, tamping out his cigarette.
“Nah, she took the news straight off the chin, you know. Barely even beat me for it, and all.”
“Ain’t that the way!” he laughed wildly. Julien hadn’t lived with his parents since he was fourteen, or since some of his more questionable preferences had made themselves clear. He knew a little about being spat at.
“The girls took it well though. Or they tried to,” she shrugged, and they began to walk. “I’m not sure they understood what I was telling them at all.”
“Better than your ma, for certain.”
As they walked to the Underground, Julien whistled around his cigarette. He’d gotten them in at a very posh, exclusive club on this night, the kind that hosted rockstars and graciously pretended that they weren’t so posh at all to let some lower class folks have a taste of the life. One last hurrah, he said. A grand sort of goodbye.
It took them half an hour to make the ride to Earl’s Court, which they passed chatting about the city and their friends. Adanna and the girls didn’t take to gay clubs as much as Mary did because well, they didn’t see as much of a point. Julien came out to more regular haunts, when invited. They hashed out the night prior, all the drunken mishaps, so on and so on.
The streets above them were filled with men, boys really. The Catacombs, where Julien was taking her, was right around the Coleherne. She found the latter a bit too leather for her tastes, the Catacombs better suited for dancing drinks, and women all together. (The Brixton Fairies didn’t much jive with the Brixton Dykes, she found, not that she cared.) Julien could don his leather and hit up the Coleherne on another day, when Mary had returned to being a memory.
“Shall we?” Julien dodged a cop that was strolling down the sidewalk to tuck his hands in his pockets and nudge his head toward the restaurant that the Catacombs sat under. The bar wasn’t licensed to serve alcohol, so it could stay open far later than the pubs. (Which cops tended to get at anyway.)
Mary grinned, as mischievous as ever, “We shall.”
To be safe, they each took a couple shots in the back alley, before Julien gave the door guy a kiss on the cheek and got them inside.
Down through a staircase, past an older guy smoking alone and two younger men pressed up against the wall, Mary and Julien found their way. She felt more sure of herself, comfortable with what would come. She’d been through this before. She’d been laying down with another woman for months now, whether she accepted it or not.
Still, the Catacombs wasn’t like the last gay pub Julien took her too. There was no excess of light, no gunshot flashes that left her head feeling wrong. She felt the bass in her chest, the treble as a dull vibration that settled behind her eyes. The music met her ears like it belonged there, grating and hitting all the best spots. She wanted to dance, as she felt the liquor settle pleasantly in her stomach.
She leaned over, taking hold of his collar and dragging him closer to shout into his ear. “You know how to get it on, eh?”
“In five different languages!” he cackled.
Julien ordered them espressos at the coffee bar, which they both drank like pure lightning. Then, and only then, did her heartbeat finally match the giddy warmth gathering in her gut. They were playing “Love to Love You,” that damn song. The kind that made you wanna get all close.
She let herself be led out onto the floor. They danced along to the high hat kick, slow and close and somehow fast. They were close enough that it was obvious what they meant to each other, so close that they could only be friends, if they happened to be friends who’d slept with each other.
He was a good dancer, because of course he was. His life was built for it, his acrobatic ex-boyfriend and long days spent escaping from cheated-on husbands. All Mary had to do was move with his hips as a guide, and sing, of course. Julien didn’t have anything on Donna Summer, but Mary liked to pretend that she did.
I love to love you, baby, she laughed breathlessly, breathless in everything she did.
She felt it before anything else. That familiar pub feeling, heated up by where they were.
Julien dragged his hand against the back of her and ducked in to murmur, “Somebody's watching you, Mary.”
They wheeled around to the beat. She saw then, a woman with close cropped curls and dark eyes leaning at the bar. The kind of woman her mother spat at in the streets.
“Watching you close, I think,” Julien cackled.
Her head was far away from this place. The woman at the bar took a long drag off a fat cigar, no dainty cigarettes to be found. Mary was thinking of far different lips.
“Oh, Jesus.” She took that name like nothing else mattered. Nothing else did, at that moment, but being kissed by Lily Evans, or remembering a kiss like that.
“It’s the real thing, isn’t it?” He spun her breathless, catching her hand to give it a quick squeeze.
Her head wouldn’t quit thinking. Her eyes couldn’t be torn away.
“What?” Mary spluttered.
The woman at the bar winked at her, and made to whistle a little bit, over the music. She was handsome. Mary had never seen a woman be handsome like that, all charming and grinning. She would’ve been attractive, even, if someone else hadn’t been on her mind.
“You’re thinking about your girl,” he nudged her. “That, or you’re in love with someone else.”
“Shove off.” She bristled at the words, all sharp and prickly into the backside of her skull.
Julien’s hand fell limp between them as she turned around and made for the bathrooms. There was another shot tucked into her bra. Moments like this dictated a drink, or anything to get her mind off of the most recent blow. Still, Julien followed her. He always would.
“Hey, hey-” he called out. She tried not to hear, but she could. “I didn’t mean anything wrong by it, eh? Not that you’re in love, I mean. I just meant-” he huffed harder. They both slammed through the door, coming to stand breathless before the mirrored sink. “I just meant, it’s the real thing. Even an arse could see that blush.”
Mary gripped either side of the sink, staring at herself and him in return.
“You know I bury this all, back at school,” she laughed. “You tell me all these things and show me this whole life that might be mine, who knows, and I go back and I pretend like it never happened. Even to people that are like me.”
“Mary-”
“I don’t even know what I am to her. I can’t even admit to myself what she is to me. The dirt fills my throat and I can’t ever breath.”
Julien took her roughly by the shoulders and wrapped her up into a hug, practically tackled her. He held her tight, like it would last. She would remember that hug, for a long time that lasted far into school, and far out of it too.
“Then dig your way out, Macdonald,” he murmured fiercely. “You know which way the light comes from. Claw the rest of goddamn way there.”