CHAPTER 2
The evening finished with my pudding, of course, which brought giggles and snorts. Each bowl bore two pear halves, round side up, filled with the raspberry and ice cream mix, and perched on top of each upturned bit of roundness was half a grape, the whole slathered in chocolate sauce. I feigned puzzlement at the laughter.
“What? It’s something I first had in France; they call it ‘Josephine’s tits’, I just added the filling”
In the end, they ate them, so they served their purpose. Apparently, it seemed, and after all our guests had gone, they also gave Larinda ideas, and very new and nice ideas they were. Afterwards, we lay tangled together, and she was still playing with my ever-so-sensitive nipples.
“How do you feel about that sort of stuff, pet?”
“Put my hand out…or my tongue…”
“No, love. Look, we’ve been through this sort of thing, and you, you’re straight, aye? I mean…”
I indicated the puffiness that was starting to show itself on my chest. She sighed, and cuddled closer to me.
“Lover, it’s hard to explain. Those bits, they are part of you, yeah, the…person I love, and they obviously make you feel nice, and that’s nice for me, yeah? Just…look, I know you have to do it, I’ve known that for ages, that you have to get rid of this bit”
“Ooh”
“Yeah, and I have no idea what I will feel like when I get presented with a fanny rather than my fave pink oboe, but I do know one thing. Even if we end up without any shagging, of any kind, it’ll still mean we end up together, yeah? I just can’t see me without you. Ever”
So, she moved her hand, and then she did something else, and things were very good indeed.
I was trying to keep my eyes open for anything that would work for Jim’s brother, and in the end it was Stewie who came up with the goods. That crew were incredibly tightly-knit, and I got the impression that there was an awful lot more to their mutual history than I had yet heard. He called me one morning.
“Jill Carter”
“Hi Jill, Stewie. Alec was having a word with her indoors the other day, about that evil little sod from up your way. That was a compliment, by the way, not a complaint”
“Ah. You wouldn’t be looking at an offer of gainful employment for John, would you?”
“Not me, love. I am as manned-up as I can cope with. Not got the work for more staff, otherwise I would. It’s Annie, Annie Johnson. Sal had a word, and it seems as if Sussex are recruiting for the PCSOs”
That made a lot of sense. John was too old for the police, and perhaps too damned by his army scandal. A Police Community Support Officer, though, that might actually appeal to the sense of fair play I had finally come to appreciate he held to so tightly in his maturity. I remembered his comments about warzones: big men, bullies, shame.
“I can see him going for that, Stewie. If he got Crawley nick, or even Horsham, it would be a straight forward commute from Alec’s place. All we have to do now is find some pub that needs a landlord and isn’t going down the toilet already, and they’ll both be sorted”
He laughed. “Don’t ask me, I only know pubs from this side of the bar! He’s going to have to do his own research. They’re serious, those two, aren’t they?”
“Pal, I have never seen Rach happier. She was so scared at first, like, that he would end up all fists and gob, and he never was, not even as a kid, aye? Christ knows what it’s costing him in relief managers and fares, but he’s down as often as he can manage. Problem is, it’s his pub, and I don’t know if he’d settle to be a manager rather than, you know, master and commander”
“Ah, look. I have a number of friends who like pubs–stop laughing! We’ll see what we can do. Got to be something about. You want Annie’s number?”
He gave me a landline number, and then the website address for the PCSO recruiting drive, and of course it ended up with us arranging another curry night; the proper courtesies must be observed. I rang Jim’s pub that evening, and there was the usual noise of a busy bar. Whatever it took to keep a pub lively, Jim had it, and I wondered if he would ever be able to transfer that flair down South. He’d have to learn to speak English for starters.
“Hi Jim, your kid about?”
“Aye Jill, Ah’ll just shout him ower. How, John lad, Jill for thee”
There was some banging, and then John came on the line. “How, Jill. What can I do for thee?”
“More like what I might have for you, marra. Would your Alec fancy a man in uniform?”
“Go on”
I explained the PCSO scheme, and if it were possible I could almost feel his nodding.
“It’s not the best-paid job in the world, like, but it’s down here, and there are three or four nicks that are close enough for a commute. Even the airport, come to think of it”
“I thought that was in Surrey”
“No, just south of the border. That spur road from the motorway, that’s the split. About ten minutes by train from Redhill, quarter hour or so if you were to get a post in Crawley”
He kept silent for a moment, and when he spoke he was careful in his words. “Aye, lass, it sounds a good’un, just…look, I know wor lad told you why I had to leave the army. That’s dishonourable, aye? Will they let me in with that on me record? If it’s a problem, there’s no point in even speaking to them”
“Well, Stewie’s given us Annie’s home number. You could speak to her, like”
More silence. “I’d rather you did that, if you don’t mind, Jill. Just…”
He tailed off again. “John, is there more to the story than you’ve let on?”
A deep sigh. “No, that’s just it. A lad in another section, bit of eye contact in the netty, like, two lads having a slash and not putting percy away that quickly, and we’d both had a bit to drink, and he was actually paired up in a room, not open barracks, aye? And his roommate was off on a weekend pass, except he came home early, and we were a bit busy, and that’s it. No pervy stuff, no weird shit, just two lads a bit drunk and needing a bit of company. It’s just, well, I can say all that to you, but someone else, well, please; you call her?”
“Aye, John, I will. Odd, this: you’re not the lad I knew at school, are you?”
“Oh yes I am, lass, just the way you are the same lad I used to kick the shit out of. Just, like, neither of us had worked out why back then. Both of us, stupid little sods back then. So let’s promise ourselves we’ll try and be a bit more sensible before we die, right?”
I had to laugh. “Sitting where I am, marra, it all makes perfect sense now. I’ll ring you back, OK?”
“Aye, OK. Oh, meant to tell you. Wor lad’s off to an interview. He’s looking at a manager’s job with one or two of the big chains, sell this place, aye, move in with that Essex slapper you fixed him up with. Look, I’ll let you know how it goes, so…so I will wait and see what your copper says, aye? Speak to you soon”
I rang the number that evening, and she was in. That was my first reaction; I had assumed she was welded to her police station.
“Stewie told me, aye? Your mate, he’s a squaddie, should be a shoo-in”
“That’s the problem, Annie. Him and the army weren’t on the best of terms when he left”
“Ah, any dishonesty?”
“No, just, well, he got caught shagging”
“But he’s---oh! Who?”
“Another soldier. Didn’t lock the door properly”
She started to laugh. “Oh, Jill, I’m not being nasty, it’s just, well, you know what I am, aye? What we both are? I crapped myself with worry about the bosses, and the boss here, the Super, he thought it was bloody Christmas, aye? He’s one of these fast-stream types, all ethics and diversity, and there was me, aye, about as diverse as he had ever dreamt of. I can see him now: oh goody, that’s my gay box ticked, as well as my victims of homophobia one”
“You make him sound like a right tosser”
“No, he’s not that, just a bit earnest and a bit too obsessed with his little pie charts. I think he was a bit disappointed I wasn’t gay as well. No, leave it with me and I’ll find out where they are looking to staff up. If it’s Crawley or Gatwick it will work well. Both places we have someone who can watch his back. Anyway, how are you feeling now? No hangover from that nastiness?”
“No. Well, yes. Positive things, really, understanding that there aren’t that many arseholes about compared to the bulk of the population”
She laughed. “Trust me: do my job and you’ll realise there are a lot more than most people see, aye, but they are still a small minority. Just very vocal”
We said our goodbyes, and John put his application in that night.
Comments
Thank you Steph,
It is a wonderful world,but as Jill found out,there is a problem with some of the people
who live in it so I just hope that all goes well for Jill,Larinda and friends.A great story,
as always,thank you.
ALISON
Yep.
Yep as I said earlier in a previous comment. T'old bill has come long way, diversity, ethnicity, sexuality and gender. It's all out there and a good thing too.
One of my pre-op friends has just lost her opticians business, and her life was turning to s--t. She is a dispensing optician.
She was attacked in a city not far from here and she immediately reported the transphobic assault. When she got to the station with a split eye-brow and badly cut lip, the police had it already recorded on CCTV. They were impressed with her statement and offered her a Community Support Officer's role a few weeks later . Money's not brilliant but it beats the dole.
It's nice to see that homophobic victims are not pilloried any further once free of the armed forces. Although, even the armed forces are showing some improvements in that area now.
Nice chapter Steph once again exploring diverse aspects of LGBT life.
XZXX
Bev
I'm loving this one, hon
I'm so glad to see Annie again. And the whole bit with Larinda playing with Jill's breasts ... Nice.
story continues
Thanks Steph, for continuing this story I have read every chapter from the start and i will enjoy reading the ongoing story of Jill and her life and her journey into womanhood.
Hugs Roo/ Ronnie :)
ROO
Jill Stole That Recipe
From your "Cider" story. Is that called plagiarism? I guess not when it's the same author.
I have lots of trouble imagining all the changes to what were little country towns when I was a wee lass,
Joanne
Not at all
The recipe in Cider, AFAICR, is summer pudding, which I have also used in StD. I happen to like it, and the contrast between industrial British bread and the finished product is extreme.