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“It’s such a waste of money, Bernie. It isn’t as though we don’t have plenty of room, and we both have the week off, so what better time to get this sorted?”
“‘s not that expensive,” muttered Bernie under her breath, sounding to herself very much like a petulant teenager. She half wished she had never mentioned her storage unit to Serena.
When her marriage of over twenty five years had ended and once Marcus had turned particularly nasty, Bernie had hurriedly rented a small self-storage unit, hired a van and removed all of her personal belongings from her former family home as soon as she could. She felt like she no longer knew the man she had been married to, and didn’t trust that some of her things might not somehow, inexplicably be lost or damaged. As Bernie went from staying for a couple of weeks in a hotel room to a small, furnished one bedroom flat, it had been easier to leave the bulk of her stuff locked away behind the metal door of the little metal room.
Now, however, she had officially moved in with Serena. Her name was jointly on the bills, her new address formally registered with HR, the taxman and all the other powers that be. Serena Campbell was down as her emergency contact. This was real.
So, why had she kept largely quiet when Serena had mentioned how little stuff Bernie had brought with her? They had discussed kitchen equipment, both deciding that Bernie’s was nowhere near as nice as Serena’s and so everything was donated. Other than that, beyond her small selection of clothing, all Bernie had brought with her was her mattress and a couple of boxes containing some books, pictures and a few little knickknacks. The mattress, being a good one, and less than two years old, went on to the spare room bed. Everything else found its way among and alongside Serena’s books, pictures and knickknacks.
Bernie was all in with this relationship. Serena was her person. The love of her life.
This then begged the question, why did she feel as though she didn’t want to take up too much space? As Serena sat next to her, toe tapping, waiting for a response, Bernie tried a little self analysis. For all she’d had stuff in the former family home, she had never really felt like she belonged. It had been Marcus’s mum’s house before he had inherited it, and very little had been changed over the years. Add to that the amount of time Bernie was away working, and she’d never felt like she fitted in there. Serena’s house though? It was comfortable and homely and welcoming and Bernie loved it. And best of all, of course? Serena lived there.
“You’re right of course, my love. As long as you’re sure you don’t mind making room for my crap? Maybe I could build a shed at the bottom of the garden for it all?”
“Bernie, my darling, we are not relegating your possessions to the bottom of the bloody garden! Everything can go, temporarily into the garage while we work out what will go where, okay?”
Nodding a little sheepishly, Bernie cupped Serena’s cheek and leant in for a kiss.
“Mmm, now stop distracting me, Bernie, I need to search for a local van hire company.”
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It had been an age since Bernie had been in the two metre by two metre space that was her storage unit. It wasn’t as crammed full as she’d half remembered, thankfully. She could feel Serena, pressed up behind her, peering around her shoulder to catch a glimpse of what they would be lugging out to the rental van.
“Those were made for me by my grandfather. My mum’s dad. He made one for each of my brothers as well, but because I was such a bookworm as a kid, he built me a second one,” Bernie laughed and pointed at two, beautifully crafted low bookcases. “They were so jealous, even though they had barely a dozen books between them. Their shelves were used more for action figures and model cars.”
“What’s in the garment bags?”
“Dress uniforms.”
“Reallllly?” Serena drew out the word and wrapped her arms around Bernie’s waist, giving her girlfriend a squeeze, before letting out a little growl. “Rawr!”
Turing in Serena’s arms, Bernie huffed in amusement and kissed Serena on the nose.
“Behave, perv. Your uniform kink is showing again.”
“I’ve told you before, I don’t have a uniform kink, I’m quite simply a Berniesexual. Now give me a proper kiss and then we can begin tackling this lot.”
Bernie laughed, and pulled Serena in for a smooch. She didn’t need to be asked twice when it came to kissing the woman she loved.
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Serena walked out of her bedroom just in time to see Bernie emerge from the spare room. Bernie had sent Serena up for a nice relaxing soak in the bath while she finished emptying the van’s contents into the garage. There was something about the slightly guilty expression on the other woman’s face that made Serena pause.
“Bernie?” Just the way she said her partner’s name, accompanied by an eyebrow raise was enough.
“There were just a couple of things I didn’t want to leave in the garage in case of damp or temperature extremes,” Bernie’s attempt at a nonchalant shrug was not convincing.
Another eyebrow raise.
Bernie stepped back and opened the door to the spare room.
“It’s just my guitars, my love, nothing very exciting.”
“You play the guitar? I had no idea you were musical, darling. I’d say that bit of news is indeed very exciting. Will you play something for me?”
They both entered the room and Serena saw two guitar cases propped up in the corner. She perched on the edge of bed and crossed her legs.
“It’s been a long time since I played, so don’t expect too much, love,” Bernie mumbled as she unsnapped one of the cases and removed her trusty old Tanglewood acoustic.
Bernie sat on the stool by the dressing table, slung the guitar strap over her shoulder and began to tune up. God, she’d missed the feel of a guitar in her hands and she felt a bit silly not to have retrieved one from storage before. She let her fingers drift over the strings and went almost into autopilot as snippets of melodies she had played over the years came back to her. It was only her sore fingertips that drew Bernie to a halt. It really had been a long time, and her hands weren’t used to it any more.
“That was… that was beautiful, darling. Absolutely beautiful. Who knew I was living with a rock goddess?”
“Hardly that,” Bernie responded with a little snort.
“Well let’s just say, had I been wearing any, I would’ve already thrown my underwear at you. Now come here and give your number one groupie a kiss.”