As One Door Closes: Women Loving Women

By Susie Ray

As One Door Closes…

Jane is hoping to lay some ghosts to rest and she is convinced that walking the SW Coast-path will help her come to terms with her tragic loss – she used to walk it with her dad on holidays in Cornwall, but that was before…

She tries not to dwell too much on the past, but there doesn't seem that much of a future for her. That is until she meets Sally Smith, also walking the path for therapeutic reasons. Jane makes the most of Sally's company as it is only likely to be for a short while, but she reckoned without the weather – a storm expected to make landfall that evening, brings them close.

Both girls realise they have made some sort of connection, but they are unsure how to proceed. Will they find the way? Covid 19 Doesn't help, or maybe it will bring them even closer together.

 

Someone Believed in Me

Rushing into an early marriage with Jack, sees Jenny regretting her hasty actions, especially as she ends up in prison thanks to him. No-one believes her cries of innocence, and bang goes her intended career in Law, along with so many other prospects, but she toes the line whilst incarcerated and is released early. But, what to do now?

Social services are a huge help and enable her to get a foothold in normal life once more, but being a shop-girl isn't what she hoped to be doing for the rest of her life. Love was the last thing on her mind, but she should be used to life taking unexpected turns, when she meets Natalie, only daughter of one of the partners of the firm she now works for.

The potential of a new friend is just what Jenny needs, but will love get in the way? Life is complicated enough, but Jenny's future is about to take another unexpected turn, adding a new twist to events.

• Language: English
• Publisher: S-Ray Press
• Release date: May 1, 2022
• ISBN: 9798201706708

Susie Ray

Susie Ray Author bio I love to read and lose myself in stories conjured up by the written word – I am a mature individual, but I can still recall love’s first sweet kiss and the sting of rejection; the elation of being brought alive, by another’s caress, or tender words. I write sapphic stories for my own pleasure as well as hopefully that of the reader, and my head is full of ideas and storylines that are desperate to be shared. Admittedly, it was a freebie, but the first sapphic tale I read, left me feeling wanting and empty. I thought ‘I could do better than that’, and I did! My stories draw on a lifetime of experiences and places I have visited, so there is always a piece of ‘me’ in them. My preference is for short stories; tales, in bite-size portions, although some topics, simply require a novella to do them justice. I feel my writing skill has improved and grown with me over time and I am pleased to offer some of my work for your pleasure. Come lose yourself for a while, like I do when I’m writing…

Book preview

As One Door Closes...

Chapter one Jane

About the only thing that kept me going at the end of this, my final year at Uni was the thought of hiking the South West Coast-path, well the North Cornish part of it at least. Naturally, I would like to hike the whole length, but I figured that I can’t escape my responsibilities forever and I do intend to pay back my student loans as soon as humanly possible, but one month should be enough to get this wanderlust out of my system.

In happier days, we used to holiday in North Cornwall, pretty much every year as a family, and I promised myself, then, that I would come back one day soon and explore the remainder of the coast on my own. But as I mentioned that was in happier times and I know I mustn’t dwell too much on the past. This will be my own personal adventure before I accept the full mantle of a grown-up and try to get on with my life...

It’s not like I am just throwing myself into it without some experience of hiking and camping – I have been very active every available weekend, locally around Sheffield, where I attended Uni, and strangely enough, tramping paths across the moors helped me figure out my thesis and exactly what I wanted it to convey – I must say I am rather pleased with the result – I just hope the examiner is too. Generally, I see myself as rather a serious student, avoiding most of the frivolity that some of my peers seem to like to excess, so I know my subject – it’s just getting it across, which I hope I have managed adequately enough to gain a good degree, in materials sciences and engineering.

Since the accident... I have been morose at times, well initially, but I believe I have pulled myself up by my bootstraps and given my further education, my best shot – another reason why I think I deserve this month of pandering to my own selfish needs. I have tried not to feel too sorry for myself, but I am probably not the best judge to decide how successful I have been. – I know that if I just sit at home and await my results, that I might go crazy, so my intended trip is just the ticket on so many levels.

I have laid all my kit out and already had several practice-runs at packing away everything I might need, but something just had to go – clothes and shoes, mainly – the weight I have to carry is a big factor in how likely I am to complete my trek and I simply do not want to fail. It will be almost homage to my parents and brother, if I succeed... Sometimes, I wish I had made a good friend at Uni, who I could have invited along – I’m sure the hike would be much easier and more fun with another girl along, but it just wasn’t meant to be, so it’s just little old me. I almost see it as a rite of passage from young woman to adult, although I certainly had to grow-up quick at that god-awful time.

The map of my route, I have pretty-much memorised by heart – where I plan to camp, judging how much progress I might make each day. Of course, the weather will play a huge part in that, but the long-range forecast isn’t too bad and I’m hopeful that I won’t got drowned out that often – not the least because it’s devil to pack away a wet tent, as well as the extra weight the rain will add to my burden – no, I don’t want to think of this as a burden, otherwise there is no point in going, but wet equipment certainly weighs a lot more than dry. So, I have built in contingencies into my itinerary, hoping that they won’t be needed – I do so want to cover most of my planned route.

I think I may have become a little too serious in my resolve, planning how few pairs of knickers and socks, and how many bras, I will need between washes, and now I’m beginning to doubt the sensibility of having them hanging from the back of my rucksack to dry, as I walk – the socks aren’t a problem, but do I really want my underwear to be on full display to any and every-one I might meet along the way? I’m sure I will come up with an adequate solution as needs must. I mustn’t put obstacles in my way or else I might decide to cancel altogether. – I wonder if a muslin bag with my freshly washed items might do the trick and allow them to dry in the fresh breeze that always used to abound along the coast, back in the day?

By a stroke of pure luck, a class-mate, Alice is being collected by her family for a holiday down in West Cornwall and possibly because she owed me for letting her copy my notes on a few occasions when she was the worse for wear due to partying too hard, she has offered me a lift, if her parents don’t object. I hope they don’t mind my intrusion, as it will save me travelling expenses and allow me more money for my plan to spend a few odd nights in a B and B or a small hotel, particularly if the weather turns wet.

John and Margie, Alice’s parents seem very nice and accept me into the family fold for the duration of the journey.

Margie turned to me and looking over her shoulder from the front seat, asked, So Jane – do tell all – has Alice been a good student or was she partying at every opportunity, as we suspect?

I felt like I was in an interrogation, especially as Alice was almost cringing at what I might say.

Time to earn my lift, I thought and crossed my fingers before responding, When you work hard, studying, it’s inevitable that you might give in to the temptation of the occasional party – a safety release valve, if you like, but overall, Alice was very studious and always present in the classes we shared. Her results will be the true test! I didn’t want to lie and I hope that Alice will indeed be successful when the results are announced.

At least Alice was relieved that I hadn’t dobbed her in and I hoped her parents were reassured by my fib – they have come out of their way to drop me off at Kilkhampton, from where I am to make the remainder of my trek, on foot, making my way to the coast near a tiny, pretty settlement called Stibb, and whilst I am high in anticipation of beginning, the prospect is also daunting with so many miles ahead of me – just jitters, I guess as I know once I see the ocean I will be carried along by the magnificence of it all.

The two miles or so to the coast helps loosen up my muscles after spending so long in the car in one position and sure enough, when I round a bend to see the magnificent vista leap out before me, my heart was lifted, as it always was back in the day. Everything seems prefect – it’s a fine day without being too hot and the breeze is warm, but refreshing, and to add the cherry to the top of my metaphorical cake, the topography at the start of my trek is gently rolling with no sudden steep sections to test my legs so early on.

Even my backpack seems easy to bear, but I know it will begin to tell on me when I am feeling tired – I don’t expect to feel weary though, as new sights renew my spirits at almost every turn. In a way, I shall be glad to get my first night beneath canvas, under my belt, not that I am wishing my journey away, it’s simply that I am eager to establish a routine of unpacking and re-packing the tent and getting everything back in, balanced and ship-shape. My first planned stop is just the far side of Bude, a quaint little town that ordinarily would have required exploration, and happy memories flood my senses as I recount happier times.

At least I can think about my family these days, without eliciting a tear or two, well most of the time and in my mind’s eye, I can still recall my Dad telling me the ramblers’ code,

Take nothing with you, only memories or photographs, and leave nothing behind, but footprints!

I know I will honour that code, but judging by some of the discarded litter I spot, not everyone abides by that simple tenet – it always amazes me that ‘Joe-public’ can carry full receptacles with them to make their day more pleasant, but can’t be bothered to take their empties away with them when they leave. I guess it comes down to respect, or rather, lack of it for the abundancies that nature gives us. I for one appreciate all the splendour that is on offer on my trek and I will take my time to drink it all in.

Thinking about my Dad, brings other memories back too. He was an eternal optimist and used to urge Tim and me to be optimistic as well, often telling us, When one door closes, another one opens – life is about opportunities. Grab them with both hands.

I guess I can expect more memories to flood back as my trek continues without him...

Chapter two

Jane

I am certainly not a speed-walker – you just miss so much if you don’t take the time to see everything and let it all sink in – I expect to meet all sorts on my trek, but not today I seem to have the coast path exclusively to myself, except for the odd speed-walker. I see them in the distance, quickly closing down the gap between us before they are gone with just a nod, as if they are in a race, or something, and cannot even spare the time it takes to say hello. Each to their own – I’m not about to criticise what they do, just as I wouldn’t expect anyone to comment on my approach.

There are some stretches that I guess I’ll have to camp-wild, where there are no suitable campsites nearby, but I am spoiled for choice, just as I planned, around Bude. I’m not bothered by a bit of wild camping, it’s just so much simpler when the place I pitch my tent, has facilities, as well as the company of other campers. My first night and I am in high spirits – a pleasant hot meal will do that for me.

I have decided to ease myself in gently and not try to cover too much ground on these early days, as well as giving me ample time to get the whole coast-path experience. I slept well and I feel fit, but I am still torn between an easy hike to just the far side of Widemouth Bay, or push on to reach a little further, although there is no suitable resting place if I go further. I guess that makes the decision for me, and it would be good to visit the beach just beyond Widemouth to where a whale carcass washed ashore, some months before.

It’s not that I am macabre – I am simply interested in seeing the spot for myself, so that I can link the actual place with the television report I watched, when it happened. It’s pretty much a shingle beach except when the tide is fully out, but I wouldn’t have missed it, just the same. Next on my list on Day three is Millook, a small beach with amazing rock formations behind – almost in a herringbone pattern. We visited this place as a family and I was completely taken with how the geology of the land shows just how folded and crumpled that bit of the coast must have been, eons before my visit. It stands out in my memory – and I am not disappointed this time either.

As you might guess, the walk is the steepest I have encountered so far due to cataclysmic upheaval in ages long gone, but well worth the effort and I see from the contours of the map, that it levels out then, until I am due to reach Crackington Haven, a very picturesque spot and a beautiful beach when the tide isn’t high. A snack in the café, hits just the right spot, and I take stock of my progress so far. Whilst the distance isn’t too far, I have not allowed for the terrain, or how much slower progress I am making, as a result. A few enquiries and I have secured a room at the local hostelry, the Barton Arms Hotel, as there are no camp-sites close by. I figure that I have earned a little luxury and it will be great to sleep in a real bed again.

I am up with the larks and the weather is still holding, giving me confidence that I will be able to make the camp-site at Beeny, well before dark. When the mist burns off it is actually very warm and I am glad I brought my floppy hat along to keep my head and shoulders covered.

There is another speed-walker coming up fast behind me and I cannot be bothered to get my binoculars out to check them out, but at least I should get a good look at them from behind when they zoom past.

Sally

We thought we were being sensible and mature about it – neither of us dumped the other – we simply came to the same conclusion that we were just friends with benefits, which is pretty great, I have to tell you. But Cindy is 25 next-birthday, with me a mere baby in comparison at 22. She wants to settle down and have a child, which is hard enough given that we are lesbians, but to do so when we aren’t true-lovers in the purest sense, would surely be tempting fate.

Cindy worries that I might feel trapped and quite frankly I think she may be right, and while settling down doesn’t scare me – I don’t think I am ready for that kind of commitment. Perhaps it would be different if we really loved each other, but whilst we love being together, that’s as far as it goes, and we have decided to step away and give ourselves a chance to explore other possibilities. It sounds great, but I do miss having someone to share my bed – it’s two weeks on, now and I have decided to visit my parent’s holiday lodge down in Cornwall – a break away to take stock of my feelings. I always loved it there when we visited and I have a good feeling about it, so here I am.

I work for Mum and Dad, too so it wasn’t that hard to get the time away, and bless them, they dote on me and fully accepted my coming out, but I think Mum always sort of knew anyway – probably why I adore them too. I think Mum understands why Cindy and I split, even though there are times when I don’t quite get it myself. Mum has always wanted the best for me and supported all of my big decisions, like giving up the chance of a university place in favour of working with them to ease their burden – we’re just close that way.

I can still hear her parting words,

Take all the time you need, Sal, and don’t worry about us. Try and get your head sorted!

As I said, so here I am – now what to do first? Shopping! That has to be my number one priority, or go hungry, and Mum already thinks I don’t eat enough. Why is it, that there is something exciting about holiday shopping, even for the basic essentials? It’s all new – that’s what it is, like the beginning of a new adventure.

I immerse myself in my new beginning and I decide to try a few new different things – not just food-wise, either – I plan to explore my favourite part of the coast near to the lodge. Even thinking about some of the discoveries I made, gets me in the mood and I’m glad I packed my hiking shoes and wet-gear, just in case. The weather can be a touch unpredictable at times as I know to my cost in times gone by.

Dad always gave his all to our holidays here and he encouraged me to be an explorer, rather than simply an admirer of the fantastic scenery hereabouts, and just thinking about it reinforces my decision to head for Crackington Haven in the morning and re-kindle my memories and convert them into reality once more.

I must have slept really well, which is unusual for me and I am late starting out, but I have no real itinerary – just go out and enjoy myself. It’s a bit of a rush, but I catch the local bus that will take me there. The beach hasn’t changed much, except for the stream or river that feeds onto the beach – sometimes it runs straight onto the beach, while other times, it somehow forms a tiny pool that is partly held back by a dam of pebbles and rocks- I guess the strength of the tide has a lot to do with that. Today there is a tiny lake with the surplus water overflowing the dam onto the beach – dogs love to cavort in the ‘lake’.

But my mind is on the bigger prize, up past the tennis court and onward towards Cam Beak, the local headland. Soon, civilisation and sounds of children frolicking, slip away behind and it’s just me and the path, well apart from the birds singing and the gorse bushes, still in flower. I am interested to see if I might spot one of the local celebrities, a Soay ram – there were at least three that roamed hereabouts, having escaped the cull that accounted for the remainder of the wild flock that once proliferated after escaping from a nearby farm.

I hadn’t realised just how much I missed this – nature, the beauty, the isolation. The sea breeze carries wafts of strange scents, salt, heather and unidentifiable aromas that escape detection. Honestly, a day of this and I should be able to face whatever life throws at me – it’s