Easy As Falling Off A Bike pt 447.

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Bike 447.
by Angharad

I felt mortified, everything I’d believed about being discreet and proper was being undermined. I wasn’t at all sure I could do this, let alone wanted to do it. I wasn’t some bimbo pop star or wannabe, I was a serious researcher, a scientist looking to maintain that profile. I mean she’d practically suggested I do the filming in a swim suit. Stick my boobs out, hold my tummy in, waggle my arse about and speak in a seductive manner–if I did that in the street, I’d be done for soliciting. I was also engaged to Simon, would he want a future Lady Cameron to have such a reputation?

“You’ve gone very quiet, Cathy.”

“I was thinking.”

“About what?”

“About whether I abandon this project now or later.”

“Abandon it? Are you crazy?”

“No, I’m actually quite sane. This thing has driven me for weeks if not months. I’m sick and tired of it.”

“But it’s a winner, and what about your backers, they’re not going to be very pleased.”

“I’m not going to prostitute myself for anyone or anything.”

“You’ve lost me, you don’t have to sleep with anyone, so what’s this all about.”

“I’m not prepared to dress up like a street walker to make a stupid film. The film can go to hell. I’ve had it.” I felt the tears start and I felt stupid as well as weak.

“Cathy, you aren’t going to look like a street walker, it’s about selling your image as a sexy young woman.”

“I don’t want to be seen as a sexy woman.”

“What? Every young woman wants to be desired, wants to feel attractive.”

“Well I don’t.” I sniffed.

“What are you frightened of?”

“Who says I have to be frightened of anything?”

“But you are, aren’t you? Come on, you can tell your Auntie Erin.”

The tears were flowing and I was silently sobbing on her shoulder. How could I tell her I was terrified of being seen in such a light. That with the exception of Simon, I was scared of men. I’m not a sexual animal, well, not very. I love Simon, that’s why I can be intimate with him. I can see men as fanciable but to contemplate more than that, terrifies me. This is really why Des never got beyond first base–I was too frightened.

“Come on, Cathy, tell me so I can help you.”

“Please, can I go home now.”

“Of course you can. I’ll settle the bill and we can go.” Nothing was said in the car all the way to my house. When we got there she helped me in. I felt so stupid. I didn’t have the confidence or poise to do what she wanted me to do. Hell, I’d only been living as a woman for eighteen or so months. I’m not an actress, I’m a scientist but no one will listen to me.

I sat weeping in the kitchen while Erin boiled the kettle for a cuppa. She obviously wasn’t going until I either told her what the problem was or I agreed to do the film, or possibly both.

“Here,” she said handing me the mug of steaming fluid, “Now what’s the problem?”

“I don’t know how to do sexy, alright, you’ve dragged it out of me. I don’t bloody know. I’ve never done sexy, I’ve only been a woman for eighteen bloody months–how the bloody hell am I supposed to know how to do this like someone who’s been practising for twenty odd years?”

She sat there with her mouth wide open. “Oh you poor girl, I am so sorry.”

“I told you, I’m not a proper woman–now maybe you’ll believe me.”

“Of course, now I understand–we’ll just have to teach you, won’t we?”

“You just don’t get the message do you–I don’t want to frigging learn! I don’t want to be a femme fatale, I’m a friggin’ scientist. When I’m not doing that, I just want to be Mrs Simon Cameron, and look after the man I love. I don’t want to save the planet if I lose myself.” At this point I sobbed uncontrollably and she couldn’t talk or listen to me. Not that she listened to me anyway.

“This film is dead in the water then?”

“I don’t care, I just don’t care any more.”

“Do you want me to cancel Alan for tomorrow?”

“If you want, I really don’t care anymore.”

“I’ll speak to you tomorrow.” With that she left.

I took myself up to my bed and cried myself to sleep. Why did everyone want me to be someone other than me. My parents wanted me to be a boy, Tom wants me to be a dutiful daughter, Simon wants me to be a lady, and now this woman wants me to be a tart. Why can’t they just let me be me?

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This would have been posted last night, but I couldn't get on the site.



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