A Dangling Fish

Table of Contents

Part One: Welford, Yorkshire, England

Chapter 1

Chapter 2

Chapter 3

Chapter 4

Chapter 5

Chapter 6

Chapter 7

Chapter 8

Chapter 9

Chapter 10

Part two: The Island

Chapter 11

Chapter 12

Chapter 13

Chapter 14

Chapter 15

Chapter 16

Chapter 17

Chapter 18

Chapter 19

Chapter 20

Chapter 21

Part three: The Bungee Effect

Chapter 22

Chapter 23

Chapter 24

Chapter 25

Chapter 26

Chapter 27

Chapter 28

Chapter 29

Chapter 30

Chapter 31

Chapter 32

Chapter 33

Chapter 34

Chapter 35

Chapter 36

Chapter 37

Chapter 38

Chapter 39

Chapter 40

Part five: A Dangling Fish

Chapter 41

Chapter 42

Chapter 43

Chapter 44

Chapter 45

Chapter 46

Chapter 47

Chapter 48

Chapter 49

Chapter 50

Copyright notice

Copyright © 2015 (Copyright © 2022 This edition) Neve Fontaine. All rights reserved.

This is a work of fiction. All characters and many of the place names depicted herein are the product of the author’s imagination and do not represent any actual places or persons, living or dead.

This book is not for resale or redistribution.

Parental Warning: adult content

This book is for adults aged 18+ years of age. Contains references to sex, drugs and rock and roll.

About the author

Neve was born and raised in Yorkshire, England. She likes to roam and explore the depths and hopes to have travelled the globe before she leaves this world. She hopes this book inspires women to follow their dreams and dare to get out there. And to know that we all think and do crazy sh*t sometimes, and that not having it all figured out is part of the journey - Gabbi Sinclair, one of the main female characters in this book, demonstrates this with finess. Wink.

Northern wit combined with honest humour and a passion for storytelling and travel (and women).

To learn more about Neve, check out her website nevefontaine.com Please note: the website contact form has been disabled but you can email her at danglingfish@gmail.com or connect@nevefontaine.com.

Neve’s promised to try and keep her books priced at less than a pint and sometimes for free. Browse her website and see what offers she’s got running, and don’t miss her blog, it offers a glimpse into one wild woman’s quest for adventure and subsequent misadventures – all totally free to read and as entertaining as ever.

Okay, grab your beverage and snacks of choice, get comfy and enjoy x

Acknowledgement:

To Womankind (and Bruce)

Part One: Welford, Yorkshire, England

Chapter 1

Gabbi lost count how many times the flat pebble skimmed across the water, it went into reeds out of sight. She was sure it was a record. After glancing around to make sure nobody was watching, she shook her head, telling herself: a grown woman can still skim stones!

After reaching down to the water and tickling it with her fingertips, she recoiled her hand with a shudder. Stop teasing. Way too cold for swimming. In summer, it might be bearable if the day was hot enough. But it would also be busy, crowded by the masses: kids, dogs, drunks, designer everything, recreational toys and lots of noise. Plus a few near-drownings and general chaos. She stared at the gravy-coloured water in the artificial lake. No good for snorkelling, either.

Just as she was getting fidgety, two things happened simultaneously: a car’s headlights temporarily blinded her as it entered the unofficial entrance, and her phone rang.

About a teabag, really? James tried not to laugh.

The phone went quiet.

Gabs? I wasn’t poking fun... Are you there?

Sorry, I know you weren’t. It’s just that somebody’s pulled into the car park and, Gabbi’s phone rattled as she clambered onto a rock to get a better view across the lake. I thought it was Izzy, bu-

James cut in: Has she come to spy on you again?

Gabbi coughed a laugh. No, it’s not her.

He tried again, So, she started an argument about a teabag?

Well, it was more about a bin liner… Her voice trailed off as she angled her head to take another peek.

Who is it? Are they in the shagging corner?

She let out a small laugh, it was a notorious spot. After one last glance at the car, she jumped back down. Not sure who it is. Anyway, where were we?

He let out a deliberate yawn. Teabag, bin liner?

Don’t, J, it’s not funny. Gabbi looked down at her reflection on the still water and tried to pat down her out-of-control wavy hair, thought she looked frumpy, tired, and was absolutely sick of relaying the minutes of another argument. She’d find it funny as well – if it wasn’t her own relationship. In fact, forget about it, J. It doesn’t matter.

What? I didn’t say anything. Tell?

Silence.

Can’t have been nothing, Gabs, or you wouldn’t be in your hiding place.

She rubbed her face and let out a sigh. All right. If only for your amusement: Iz threw a teabag in the bin, and I’d forgotten to put a bin liner in. Then she starts going on about cleaning the bathroom mirror properly, and that spawned an argument about effort – who does and doesn’t try to make the relationship work. Honestly, J, it was unbelievable.

What did you say to her?

I told her to go do herself, then I came down here for some peace and quiet.

As the sun set behind the old pit stacks, the last of the day’s light bounced off part of the car roof, but it was mostly obscured by trees. The pit stacks were now camouflaged by young pines, but Gabbi could remember when they were huge black mounds. She’d zoomed down them on her BMX many times as a child. She ran her fingers across a scar near her right temple and thought about the time James stood on the back pegs and they both fell off. Her shoulders sagged as she realised how long ago that was. Feels like a lifetime ago. It was. How did I end up back here? She sat on a rock at the water’s edge and scanned the floor for a flat pebble.

Come to Zodiac later, Gabs. I’ll cheer you up. And don’t stay there too long, it’ll be dark soon.

I know, it’s not safe.

And don’t walk along the canal!

Gabbi rolled her eyes. All right. I’m hanging up now. Might see you later. I’ll see if Iz fancies coming, you know I’ll have to ask her.

She slipped her phone into the side pocket of her unfashionable khaki bag as it beeped, it was a message from her girlfriend. Before she got chance to read it, her phone rang, Izzy’s name flashed. The loud ringing caused a flock of ducks to fly up, they quacked and flapped and splashed as they tried getting into the air, half running on water. The commotion startled her. Giving two fingers to the flashing screen, she switched the volume to silent and tossed it back in her bag. Then she zipped up her black padded jacket, turned the collar up and thought about being somewhere warmer.

The season she worked in Greece in her early twenties, as if to magnify the drab dampness of the day, played as if it was last week: endless summer nights and midnight swims with overexcited tourists – supposed innocent Scandinavian girls with legs up to their armpits and cheeky giggles enough to wake the dead.

A noise came from dense trees to the right, Gabbi sat up straight and adjusted her eyes to the shadows. A crisp packet blew free from a branch, she exhaled a held breath and watched it flip and tumble until it got caught in a bramble bush. What the hell am I doing sat here? It was time to go. 

She walked along the old towpath by the canal anyway. The peace of twilight soon shattered by the irritating noise of a pimped-up car. It hurtled down the new dual carriageway which had sliced her childhood playground in half. Gabbi wasn’t a fan of fast cars, and only James understood her resistance to getting a driving license. She stood on the bypass bridge watching the whites and reds of car lights busying in and out of the retail park and call centres. She thought it seemed like only yesterday that the pit stood there, her feet on unbroken countryside and not a bare concrete bridge.

**

Reaching out her hand for the front gate, Gabbi paused. The living room light was off. She could see the glow of the landing light through the frosted glass panel in the front door. Is she home or has she gone to a friend’s house to complain what a terrible girlfriend I am? The ridiculous argument replayed in her mind. She wouldn’t leave it alone… Maybe I should have kept my cool?

After glancing up and down the street where it seemed more cars occupied the pavement and driveways, Gabbi couldn’t see Izzy’s car. She suffered her first bout of panick. She’ll be drinking tea and dunking digestives and saying how I don’t make an effort. Ha.

She pushed open the gate and then walked down the short path, contemplating the amount of grovelling required. Reaching into her bag for the door keys, she noticed her phone flashing. Missed calls and text messages.

While one hand fumbled for keys, the other swiped through the messages:

Izzy: When are you coming back? x  

Izzy: I can’t believe you’re not answering my calls. Listen to your voicemail, Arsehole! 

Gabbi, keen to hear her girlfriend’s voicemail message, gripped her phone between her shoulder and ear to free a hand and locate her keys.

The first voicemail was from her mum. Gabbi rolled her eyes, pulled her hand out of her bag and hit the ‘next’ button. It’ll be nothing important, she can talk a glass eye to sleep. It’ll be gossip about Lyn-next-door.

Second voicemail. Izzy: Hey, thought I’d give you a call in case your phone is playing up again and you’re not getting my messages. Where are you? When are you coming back? xx 

Third voicemail. Izzy: I found your diary. You really are an arsehole. Seven years of my life I’ve given to this relationship. You go do yourself, I’m off. 

The tone of Izzy’s voice wasn’t irate, wasn’t a scream. That might have been better. Normal.

Gabbi’s heart missed a beat and then stopped. She could feel the life draining out of her as gravity took over where the heart failed.

She began rambling: Off? Off where? No. No. No – surely not? Shit!

She retrieved her keys and tried to calm her shaky hand as she put it to the lock. Her heart pounding, making up for time, in overdrive now.

Gabbi took three deep breaths and, unzipping her boots, gave a quiet shout. Iz, you in?

Climbing the steep narrow staircase, the only sound was the dull creaks of thickly carpeted steps and the blood pumping around her head. The bedroom door stood wedged open. Gabbi put her hand to her mouth as she paced across the room and looked around. Her eyes settled to where Izzy’s vintage dresser should stand, now a lighter square of carpet by the window overlooking the garden, cherry trees, and the park.

A thud-thump-thud of music came through the bedroom window scented with cannabis. She closed the window with a slam. A garden was a rare thing to have, most terraced houses had shared concrete yards. A garden with cherry trees was an even bigger bonus. Views across the park sealed the deal for renting the place. The influx of teenagers to the park, after the youth club closed down, was another reason Gabbi said they should move, put their plans in motion like they’d talked about for seven years.

Absent of its headboard and frame, a bare mattress lay on the floor. On one side a screwed up pile of photographs of the two of them in happier days. On the other, the contents of Gabbi’s dresser drawers. She picked up a few pieces of a broken shell she’d smuggled from Australia, now scattered everywhere and trodden into the carpet. Purposefully positioned on top of the contents sat her diary, open and face down.  

She sat with her head tilted and tried to gauge where the pages parted. Has she read it all? Did she start from the beginning or from a random page? Gabbi sat crossed legged, her eyes fixed on it, her mind doing battle with itself. She listened to the voicemail messages again, and read back through the texts, trying to make sense of it all. She’s read my entire diary and then decided to leave me in the time I’ve been at the lake? 

It had been tucked away under Gabbi’s bottom drawer, not out on display calling to be read. She knew how nosey and suspicious Izzy got. Most of the time it was harmless. More like childlike curiosity performed with charming innocence: rattling presents and peeping in bags.

Gabbi reached over and picked up her diary, her eyes scanned the pages. She put her hands to her face and closed her eyes. It was an unforgettable date. It was the day after Izzy’s family had left after staying with them for one of their frequent visits. Her thoughts flickered back to that week. Even though it was almost a year ago it was still a touchy subject.

3rd September 2012, mood 3/10 

  Bet the curtains have been twitching next door. More shouting from our house. And now I think I’m coming down with flu or something. Izzy’s mother is the only person who can literally make me sick. There’s no wonder Ray remains in a permanent vodka-induced haze, poor bastard. She’d have been under the patio years ago if she was mine. And as for her sisters, especially Chloe, she might have a really nice arse but she does not shut up. I cringe every time she opens her mouth.

  Stephanie is definitely the nicest, married though, typical. I thought we had a moment once. Iz said she was totally wild until she met Brian. She’s a robot now… bet she’d loosen up if I took her to Zodiac and plied her with a few tequila shots. Her mother though, she’s horrible. She acts as though butter wouldn’t melt but it’s obvious who wears the trousers in their house, she even looks like a bloke. It’s a miracle any of them turned out half decent. Well, Iz isn’t exactly a head-turner. Wouldn’t be so bad if she made an effort now and again. Bought something that fitted her properly instead of blaming it on the washer.

  Anyway, they’ve finally gone. It wasn’t pretty. We had a huge row. Chloe was being rude to Iz, and making lots of noise banging stuff around on purpose to piss me off. I couldn’t cope with her any longer, her squeaky voice was going through me, so I politely asked her to shut the F up. Their mother was straight in yelling at me and saying some weird stuff. Iz stood there and said nothing as usual. Didn’t defend me at all.

  If the definition of insanity is doing the same thing over again and expecting a different result, I am insane. I don’t understand her family. She used to moan about them all the time. Now she gets angry at me for moaning about them. Go figure? I’ve never met people like them before. As time passes by and we argue more, I think Iz is more like her mum. They say girls often turn into their mothers when they grow up. If only I’d known.

After cringing at what she’d written, Gabbi sat slouched over on the bed for three hours. A million thoughts passed through her busy mind, some vivid, others abstract and mingled: Christmas morning, unwrapping presents and drinking Champagne for breakfast. The early months of their relationship when they couldn’t keep their hands off each other. Recent years when they argued over everything and nothing. Torment, ridicule and frustration. Rot.

Gabbi couldn’t decide if she felt relieved or devastated, felt she should cry, but she couldn’t. The nauseating throb in her gut searched for answers. She tried to ring Izzy, her phone went to voicemail after a few rings, like it had the last nineteen times.

Chapter 2

Numb was all Gabbi could feel as she staggered out of the ladies’ and shoved through the usual congregation of drunks, drug dealers and drag queens blocking the corridor to the well-seasoned Zodiac loos. The dull bass muffled then sounding clearer as she walked back into the main part of the bar, her arm brushing the old wood-chip covered wall, a hundred layers of yellowing paint on it, each layer holding a story of drunken debauchery. Her friends cheered as she emerged a little wobbly but still standing. She flung her arms in the air and took a bow.

Her best friend James was halfway to the toilets to check on her. He ran over and put his arm around Gabbi to steady her. You okay? You’ve been gone ages. Kel and Leah were going to come and check on you, but I talked them out of it. I thought you might do something to Leah.

I’m fine, J, stop flapping. Gabbi ran her fingers through her hair and tried to free a knot. "I can’t believe what Leah said. I can’t believe she didn’t tell me, she’s such a dick. Gabbi flopped down on a chair and summoned James to sit on the one next to her. So, Kelly heard from her brother, Karl. Karl who works with Brian, Stephanie’s Brian? And Leah knew?" 

James gripped his straw and slurped every last drop of his vodka and tonic. He flicked his curtain fringe to one side and looked over to the booth where Leah, Kelly, and his soon to be one-night-stand sat pretending not to lip-read.

Gabbi leaned over to block his view. "J, has Iz really gone to Greece? And with her, that, that woman?" 

James looked at Gabbi: all wide-eyed, looking the way she did as the vulnerable six-year-old little girl he met in the playground at school more than a quarter of a century ago, as she was keen to point out a few days earlier. He tugged at his tight T-shirt and composed himself before looking her firm in the eye. Gabs, it’s been going on for ages… James looked at the floor. I only just found out for sure. He put his arm around her and pulled her close to his chest.

How long? And, Gabbi pushed herself away from his embrace. "What do you mean you only just found out for sure?" 

James shrank a few inches shorter, his eye contact intermittent. I thought there was something a bit off before Iz’s birthday party. I thought I saw her getting out of Iz’s car, and there was a suitcase on the pavement – I didn’t know who she was then though, I thought it might be one of Iz’s sisters, and you never mentioned anything so-

"But, J, I can’t mention anything if I don’t know anything in the first place, can I? I can’t believe what I’m hearing. I’m so not cheered up!" 

And another thing… James squirmed in his seat.

Gabbi raised her eyebrows as she downed the dregs of her beer.

You know my neighbour, Handsome Rob?

She raised her brows again.

James continued at a quickened pace. You know how his boyfriend works with Iz, he said that Iz didn’t go on that Team Building Weekend. He said only five of them turned up, including the trainer.

Gabbi realised that weekend was over a month ago. She gestured for more, she could tell there was more by his tense posture. Purge, James!

He cupped his face in his hands. Gabs, I didn’t think she would… It was only after Leah telling me now that-

Gabbi cut him off, waving her hand for him to spit it out. Doesn’t matter. Hurry up and tell me, put me out of my misery, will you?

You remember when we went for that curry, and Iz didn’t come because you’d had another row. Well, after that creepy taxi driver dropped you off at mine, we had to drive past yours because there’d been a crash on Eden Road. There was an old Beetle parked outside, but I thought it was your neighbour’s daughter’s car and-

Yeah, she used to drive an old Beetle, I’ve seen it in a photo.

I know, I remember you telling me, was that the one with the perfect tits?

**

Oh my god, it’s Baltic. Gabbi linked James’s arm and pushed against him to keep warm.

He almost fell off the pavement. Gabs, you’re shaking. He opened his jacket to shelter her from the bone-chilling air. 

Thanks for walking me home. Are you going back to meet up with that guy?

No. I can’t be bothered tonight. I wasn’t into him anyway. James gave a quick rub to the back of Gabbi’s head. Where were we? Oh yes: Iz’s birthday party. He let out a cheeky laugh. "That woman. And to think you were checking her out."

Wasn’t! She gave him an elbow to the ribs.

Ouch. James laughed again. She did have a very nice arse.

Gabbi let out a whine. I’ve never seen a woman like her in real life. I hate myself.

Oh, don’t. She was quite stunning, and you are a lesbian so…

I bet that’s why I wasn’t introduced. They didn’t stay long, did they? I thought the woman she was with was her girlfriend. Obviously not.

None of us got introduced.

Iz said she was an old friend from out of town. I thought she looked familiar. Gabbi booted a can, it caused a chain-reaction of dog barks. Did you see Iz’s face when she was talking, all starry-eyed and smiles, she was mesmerised.

You were. Who is she then?

She met her at one of those summer camp things when she was a kid. Somewhere in Greece, funnily enough. She’s called Carrie. Gabbi looked up at James and shook her head. "Her first love. She was on both the photos that fell out of Iz’s drawer into mine. That one with the Beetle, and the other with the perfect tits. Iz only looked about sixteen. She might have been older."  

A nervous bite to the cheek accompanied thoughts about feeling a little jealous that Izzy ever went out with such a beautiful woman – and had now ran off with her. The problem was, Gabbi hadn’t been attracted to her partner for some years. It had become an issue. ‘Dead from the waist down‘ was a line reluctantly scribbled in her diary. 

Chapter 3

Gabbi spent most of the weekend drunk, hungover and depressed. Monday morning was an added insult to feeling like shit already. Although not a fan of breakfast, she force-fed herself scrambled eggs on toast to offset nausea until she reached work. A short trip across town was easy compared to past commutes across London where she’d managed a city bar. The only thing she’d liked about working in London was the salary. So when the company offered her a transfer to open a women’s bar in Leeds, for the same salary, but no flat like the one they’d paid for in Soho, she couldn’t believe her luck. Besides, James’s boyfriend had run off with another man, she wanted to be there for support, it was a no-brainer.

However, making fancy coffees for flamboyant rich old ladies in The Lanes Cafe on the outskirts of Leeds was a lot easier, and a lot less hassle, it was also a lot less pay, but Izzy didn’t turn up thinking she was shagging any of them. Best of all, she didn’t start work until eleven so the ghost-like face staring back at her still had time to look alive.

Gabbi looked herself straight in the eyes. Standing a few centimetres away from the mirror in a well-lit room at half nine, following an epic tequila session that ended around five the same morning, was not showing her at her best. She smiled, but her eyes failed to react. She tried again, they barely twinkled. She stared hard into them: hazel, not green, a dull mood. Gabbi’s eyes focused on the barely noticeable fine lines on her forehead, she thought they looked like ravines. She peered at each one, stroking them with her finger, and named them: I.Z.Z.Y. It’s all good. It’s all fantastically hunky-dory, Gabrielle Sinclair. She stood an inch taller, forced her shoulders back and chest out and looked at her face from every angle possible. You are better off without her.

Gabbi was halfway through the second brush of her teeth when she remembered her mum had left a message. Despite feeling delicate, she was in the mood to be amused by her mother’s ramblings, a familiar voice. One that wouldn’t begin with: ‘I’m sorry to hear about you and Izzy’. She reached for the ball of clothes that encased her jeans, hoping her mobile was still in the back pocket, and not in the bottom of a toilet in Zodiac. She yanked the leg of her jeans, the entire ball of clothes: T-shirts, jumpers, a hoodie and jeans, all linked together by entangled bras, moved. Her diary slid off the top and spread open:

6th January 2011, mood 5/10  

  Got an email from Lydia today, not heard from her in a long time. Must be over six or seven years since we saw each other. I wondered what she was up to these days and figured she’d be married, which she is, to Jeff and they have a little girl (yawn). They’ve moved to the island to help Jeff’s dad run the watersports business. She mentioned Young Hannah, said she was planning on moving there to open a bar. She said we should move there as well and then the old gang will be back together (like she was ever part of it).

  I’d go in a heartbeat, but Iz keeps stalling on the idea. It’s driving me mad, thought that was our plan, our thing, our bond. I absolutely loved it there. Great snorkelling. Lots of women (Like I’d dare look. Iz gets worse). It’s hilarious that Lydia and Jeff have moved there, bet he’s got her on a tight leash.

It was over two years ago since Gabbi received the email from Lydia. But still, she felt a little flutter in her tummy. As she threw the diary down on the mattress a photo fell out. It was of Gabbi, Jeff, Izzy, Leah, Kelly, Hannah, James and Mark. It was taken at Mark’s flat and was a dinner to celebrate Mark and James’s six-year anniversary. It was the last time Gabbi could remember the old gang together. She smiled as she looked closely, they all looked so young. She