Diva Dismayed: Chapter 13 – On the road again
Della’s ability to leave me speechless had proved second to none, once again! All I could utter by way of a response was a nervous laugh. I desperately needed to change the way this encounter looked like developing and fast. Searching around for a safe topic of conversation, I hit upon the previous night I’d spent going out. Accordingly I asked her if she ever attended the monthly dances and mentioned how much I’d enjoyed the one which Rachel and I had been to the evening before.

The girl seemed piqued. “Really? You mean you like that sort of thing?” she bridled. “I can’t see the point myself.”

“Well, it’s a great way of getting to know people. I made some nice new friends among the nurses.”

Della looked scornful at my assertion, but that was okay. I’d succeeded in diverting the direction of our talk into a safer path, so I carried on. “And… although there weren’t too many of the opposite sex there last night, it does provide an opportunity to meet… you know… boys!”

I rolled my eyes delightedly as I said this. Well I had to pretend more than I felt to make my enthusiasm believable, didn’t I?

“Why would I want to do that?” she snapped. “The last thing I want is a man in my life, thank you very much.”
Her resentment at my suggestion was palpable. “You are aware that they always make such demands on you and expect you to run around after them all the time.”

“Well, what if he were, you know… well not just any guy?” I teased. “He’d have to be good-looking, of course…” Why did the image of Harvey’s face flash through my mind just then? “…and devoted to me… I mean, to you.”

Phew! That nearly went wrong!

I continued more reflectively “Strong but gentle, with a kind heart…” I was getting carried away with the idea.

“Stop!”

Della shuddered and her face pulled a disgusted expression. “Ugh!” she winced. “The idea!”

I simply shrugged and smiled to myself. It figured.

She took advantage of the pause that ensued by reverting back to her earlier theme. She forced that smile of hers. “Now isn’t it much nicer the two of us being together like this. Just you and me. You must know that you’ve made quite an impression on me. I think your looks are really striking. I thought that the first time I saw you. Wasn’t the way we met a scream?”

She didn’t wait for me to agree but carried on insistently “I’ve thought about the circumstances of our meeting a lot since then. You know, any way you look at it, we became intimate straightaway. That must have been fated.”

I hadn’t felt any such bond myself. Personally I had put the way we met down merely to an overfull bladder, though I didn’t voice that opinion. My decided view was that the woman was too strange for me to want the sort of closeness with her that she was claiming to feel.

As I pondered this, Della’s manner became sly. She insinuated “Say, that shade of lipstick looks really delicious on you... I wonder if it looks good on me, too… let’s experiment a little more, shall we?”

I thought her remark was an odd one, especially since normally she wore only a little lip-gloss. I shrugged in response and reached for my purse to retrieve the tube in question, before the penny dropped.

The girl laughed knowingly. She leaned forward and put her hand on my knee. “You know that wasn’t what I meant” she insisted. “Now don’t you?”

She began to caress my thigh with gentle fingers. “You know, you’re really cute. I love that air of innocence you put on. You act the out-of-town little virgin really well!”

Her gesture could only be taken as meaning a lot more than friendliness. I was disconcerted by the directness of her advance which anyway was one I wished to discourage. I averted my head but something like an electric shock coursed through me. Despite my reluctance to get involved I seemed to be tingling all over. While I was wondering how to respond, Della’s caresses became firmer and more definite. My lack of resistance was being interpreted as acceptance of what could only be a sexual overture. Panic rose inside me. I had to do something!

Normally, such a direct come-on would be a welcome adventure for a sixteen year old male, even from someone as little attractive as I found the girl. But there was nothing normal in my situation and I had the gravest doubts of the direction in which the relationship might ‘develop’. It was impossible to predict how she would react to… well, what she would be bound to discover!

My desire to preserve the secret of my gender was always to the fore in my mind, so as things stood, one small mercy was that Della clearly took me for another female. That was crucial from a person whose discretion I regarded as not to be relied on. There was only one course of action left for me to take. I closed my legs firmly together and edged away.

“Sorry if I gave you the wrong impression, but I’m not what you think I am.” As I uttered the words the realisation struck me that the truth of this statement was far in excess of what I’d intended!

“Well maybe, maybe not. Perhaps you might be, but you just don’t know it yet. It could be fun to find out” she hinted. Her words were intended to be inviting and there was a powerful inducement, how unbelievably good a kisser Della had shown herself to be! I shook my head firmly, resolutely ignoring the temptation.

“I know there’s something different about you” she persisted. “You’re not what you pretend to be, I can tell. Let’s try a little action.” I got the alluring up-from-under glance.

I shook my head but Della had staying power. “You won’t get many chances like this one. If you think that that ‘Miss Perfect’ friend of yours will ever help you out, you’re in for a big disappointment.”

That crystalized my resolve. I didn’t like the way she’d referred to Rachel or what she was implying about her.

“You must have needs like anyone else. I can tell there isn’t a boyfriend, back home?” Della’s continued fishing was starting to become really annoying. However, here was a way to deter this amorous acquaintance. “Though I haven’t a boyfriend right now, I have had in the past. More than one.”

Although my words were met with a look of flat disbelief, I knew there was sufficient truth behind them for my assertion ultimately to carry credence. As reinforcement I added the qualification “Though not at the same time, of course. I hope you don’t think I’m that sort of girl!”

I spoke in tones of feigned indignation. It was hard to keep the humour out of my voice. I could have laughed out loud at the little comedy of errors that was being enacted here.

Though it was something of which I wasn’t altogether proud, there had already been several periods in my young life when I’d dated boys. Some of these dates were not altogether voluntary but, I have to admit, others had been. One regular relationship had lasted months, before he and I finally agreed to end it by mutual consent. That there was a degree of ‘physicality’ involved in all of them was also something I couldn’t deny. Even so I still didn’t regard myself as ‘gay’, which was the term which was then beginning to be used to describe that orientation. I was sure in my head that I was into girls, though not this one. It was complicated, that was all!

In the meantime my ploy had been successful. Della was now on the back foot and even apologised to me “Sorry, I wasn’t implying… Sorry. You misunderstood me, that’s all.”

“That’s okay” I replied magnanimously. “It’s probably time we were heading back” I added, creating an opportunity to escape my unwanted companion. “I’ve an early start for work tomorrow.”

Della got up and brushed down her skirt. “You needn’t mention any of this to… Not that I’m bothered, but things can get distorted. It could be awkward.”

For whom, I wondered?

“Don’t worry. No-one will learn anything from me.” I assured her. There was only one person I was likely to mention the incident to and Rachel had formed an accurate enough idea of our neighbour’s disposition already!

The walk home was uneventful if interminable. We admired the architecture of some of the houses and exchanged a few pleasantries. Though we parted outwardly as friends, an ever-present undercurrent of distrust remained. My instinct to be watchful when the girl was around had been reinforced. I decided to make very sure I need not depend on her in the future, if I could help it.

One evening a few days later, after I’d been away from home about a month, Rachel joined me for supper and her face bore a troubled expression.

“It’s my mom” she answered my unspoken question. “She’s unwell. There’s been some kind of heart episode. I’ve asked for leave to go to her this weekend. I really must see how she is for myself. With all the travelling each way it will only be a flying visit but… if you could come with me I’d feel so much happier. You would be more than welcome, if you can get the time off work, that is.”

My feelings over her words were mixed. Though I was anxious to help, I would have to stay with Mom. What sort of reception would I face on such a visit? I could only guess how my unpredictable parent would be with me? What else might I have to deal with? My face must have betrayed my doubts.

“If you had rather not, I will quite understand” my sensitive friend continued. “You’re probably unsure about how things are at home. Of course you can always use our spare room, if it’s too complicated to go to your mom’s, but I’m pretty sure she would be pleased to see you. Have a think about it.”

“I’ll come” I decided, and felt instantly that I’d made the right choice. “If I can take the days off, that is. Once I know, I’ll phone Mom and see how the land lies.”

Once I’d called Mrs Millward and explained why I wanted leave of absence, it was settled that I would go with Rachel. The next hurdle to surmount was tackling my mother. I made the phone call in the evening when I knew she would be relaxing after supper, hoping that she would be in a favourable mood around then.

It was my little brother who answered the phone. The way I greeted him sounded completely strange in my ears. “Hi Tom, it’s Jen… er… Rob.” Who was Rob?!
My sibling sounded just as uncomfortable as I felt. When he passed the handset over to my parent, my own confusion was echoed by him in a manner that was almost comical. “Mom! It’s Rob… er… Jennifer.”

My parent was quite self-collected however and sounded friendlier than I’d dare to expect. “Jennifer, sweetie, it’s nice to hear from you. It seems ages since we talked.”

Actually I had been phoning home regularly and as recently as in the previous week, but that occurrence had clearly not registered with her. After the opening pleasantries had been exchanged, I tentatively broached the reason for the call. “I was wondering, Mom, if it would be convenient… if I came home for the weekend.”

There was an awkward silence while she digested my request so I took the opportunity to explain the purpose of Rachel’s visit and her concern for her mother’s health.

“Well, I’m really glad she’s decided to do that. She’s such a thoughtful daughter! She never thinks of herself. I’m really quite worried about Wilma.” Mom went on to voice her anxieties on the matter. After some minutes in this vein she turned her thoughts to practicalities. “Well your old room is standing empty. The bed is already made up and everything’s just as it should be. If you get here in the afternoon, you can collect Tom from his after-school friend’s house, as I’m likely to be working. What time can I expect you?”

I was mightily relieved by the way Mom had received the call. I hadn’t been made to endure reproaches for my absence and I deduced that my visit was generally welcome. I ran up to Rachel’s room with a light heart to give her the news. It was flattering to see her relief when I said I would be able to accompany her. It felt good to be needed.

When Friday came I dressed myself with particular care, giving especial intention to my make-up, nails and hair. I knew the condition of these were likely to receive minute scrutiny from my ever-critical parent, as would my body-shape. She would probably be expecting that I had ‘let myself go’ as she termed it, without her presence to administer constant control and correction.

Rather smugly, I felt confident that she would find the opposite and felt incongruously proud of my silhouette. I planned to wear a figure-hugging dress on which I’d spent some of my hard-earned cash the week before. With the hemline just above the knee it boasted a skirt with vertical stripes below a contrasting top in a chequered material. All this geometry served to draw attention to my curves and in particular my ever-swelling bust. I’d asked Rachel to administer my second booster injection of hormones a few days before and it may have been my imagination but the effects were already discernible.

Having packed my clothing I prepared food for the journey; a thermos and sandwiches to eat along the way. When the elevator door opened to take me and my luggage down to the lobby I was amused to be on the receiving end of Noah’s approval. “My, my! Is you worth looking at, girl?” The old guy was actually ogling me.

I gave him an arch glance in response.

“There ought to be a law” he admonished with a wicked leer, as I exited.

I left him grinning lecherously and lugged my belongings out to Rachel’s car, in eager anticipation of our adventure. I waited for her to join me but instead I was greeted by Della who happened to be returning to the building at that moment. Her recent discomfiture in the park had apparently been forgotten, and for the next five minutes I had to fend off her usual nosiness.

Fortunately there was nothing about our forthcoming road trip that I had reason to conceal, but my wariness about giving out information to someone so inquisitive persisted all the same. My principle was that the less she knew about me the safer I would be. Rachel’s arrival put an end to her interrogation and we were left to load our baggage in peace. There was a surprising quantity to pack, considering that the trip was only a weekender but, hey, there’s no end to what girls might need on such occasions!

The journey itself proved to be interminably lengthy, requiring several stops, but largely uneventful. The route itself was straightforward to follow and eventually the increasing familiarity of the landmarks we were passing told us we were near to our destination. First, Rachel drove me directly to Mom’s house and after unloading me and my belongings, we took leave.

“I wish you were coming home with me, Jennifer, dear. I’m so worried about mother. I don’t know just what to expect and could really do with you there!”

I found it strangely heart-warming how necessary I seemed to have become to this self-possessed, glamorous creature. I gave her my warmest hug to reassure her and she clung to me like a little child. Then she was gone. I put my key in the lock of the front door and braced myself to face my own ordeal!

It turned out not to be an ordeal at all. I was met by my mother descending the stairs and while I may have been unsure how to look, her greeting was as friendly as anyone could have wished.

I’d taken the trouble, or in reality been prompted by my caring friend to do so, of buying a peace-offering just in case. There were flowers for my parent and a box of cookies for Tom. As might be expected, Tom gave a whoop of delight and had his gift open in seconds and was munching happily. I’d had doubts about the efficacy of the bouquet, but was amazed to see its effect on Mom who was evidently deeply touched. Her eyes filled up and before I knew it I was enveloped in a lingering embrace. “Oh, Jennifer! It’s so good to have you home again!”

I felt myself getting emotional too at this display of affection. Once I was released Mom stood back and gave me the expected critical scrutiny from head to toe. Apparently the result was favourable.

“Well, Jennifer, I have to admit I fully expected that your standards might have slipped a little while you have been away, but it seems that you were listening to everything I’ve been teaching you, after all. You are downright pretty… and your figure! That’s some improvement, let me tell you.”

Her examination of the curviness of my feminised body was so embarrassingly personal that I found myself protesting, “Mom!”

There was no disguising her satisfaction at my ‘development’.

“Now, make us a coffee there’s a dear, and then I want to hear about everything.”

Much as I was reluctant to give out any precise information about where I was living and my place of work, there was no hiding anything from my mother’s questioning. It wasn’t long before she knew all there was to know about everything; the nurses’ apartments, the salon, the course I’d be studying, Mrs King, Mrs Millward, the doctors, church, and, what she was most desirous of being informed of, my friends.

Try as I might, as usual I couldn’t resist this cross-examination. I tried to establish one condition before spilling it all and to this she offhandedly agreed. I asked her not to repeat any of what I divulged to Madeleine. I tried to impress on her the seriousness of my request but had to be content with the sketchy undertaking I received in response.

“Yes, yes. Of course I won’t mention it.”

I wished I could have placed more confidence in this assurance, but she was too intent on getting details of my relationships to give me any more satisfactory promise. By the time she had drug Harvey’s name out of me it had probably been forgotten.

“Well, who is this Harvey?”

It wasn’t long before she knew everything there was to know about myself and the unfortunate youth, with one exception. The meeting on the stairs remained my secret, at least for now! In any case how I was, or wasn’t, dressed seemed so far from the realms of possibility that even my mother wouldn’t imagine the likelihood of it occurring. The realisation of this made me re-evaluate that particular indiscretion. I’d assumed that a similar mishap could happen to any girl! Evidently not! Oh, and I didn’t refer to the incident on the bus either, the one concerning my ‘unmentionables’. Best they stayed that way!

By the time Mom’s interrogation was over I had a clearer understanding of my feelings about Harvey than before. They were now been etched in black and white upon my brain. The invitation to a drink together became established so firmly as an intended date in my parent’s judgement that I was unable to regard it in any other light. Well, what if it was a date? I would still go out with him. I’d had dates with guys before, after all. It didn’t have to mean anything. At least I thought it didn’t!

While my parent gave me the third degree in this fashion I couldn’t help observe that she herself was changed. There appeared to be a diminishing as if there was less of her than I recalled. I wondered if she had lost some weight or whether I had grown. Immediately I worried whether she was eating properly, without myself there to prepare our food. I felt a twinge of guilt that I had no longer been around to look after her. There were other changes too. The dress she was wearing was in a pretty flowered material, but its style was more revealing than I would have expected her to adopt. The hemline was a few inches higher than she was accustomed to wear, while at the same time the neckline was lower, low enough to show a hint of cleavage. Such a young and feminine look would have been unthinkable formerly.

My concerns for her well-being wouldn’t go away but soon there were other feelings which overrode them. When I told her about the medical consultations I’d had and the life choices which had been outlined for me, I half-expected her to experience some remorse for the way I’d been tricked into my regimen, but far from it. Not only did she express her approval of the programme of continued medication which had been prescribed for me, but she was clearly delighted when I told her about the booster injections. Her attitude was one of self-congratulation. It was as if it had now been confirmed that she knew best all along. When I gave a reproachful look over her deception she seemed oblivious.

Inevitably the subject of my ex came up. I took the opportunity to let her know that Madeleine clearly bore me some ill-will and even wanted to harm me. Mum’s response was not calculated to afford me any consolation. “Tomorrow, we’ll go and see her and sort things out. I think you owe her an apology. That will be much more effective than merely hoping that any ill-feeling will just go away by itself.”

That visit was the last thing I felt like undertaking but reluctantly I had to agree.

Help!