Diva Dismayed: Chapter 6 – Exploration
The arrangements for how we would sleep that first night were simplified by Rachel’s shift pattern. This particular weekend she was on duty between the hours of 10pm and 6am so I would be able to occupy her bed and sleep while she was at work with the bonus that both of us could sleep in comfort. Even more fortunately Della had the same shifts which meant our neighbour wouldn’t be around. Accordingly, after Rachel had left for the hospital I could wash up in the bathroom without fear of interruption. Back in the apartment I removed my borrowed clothing and put on a little night-dress which my friend had loaned to me. There were flimsy little panties to match. I lay myself down to rest thankful that the tumultuous events of the day were behind me. I was asleep before my head hit the pillow.

My slumbers were not undisturbed, however, despite my state of near exhaustion. Perhaps it was the unfamiliarity of my surroundings but in the middle of the night I found myself wide-awake. Though it was completely dark, I couldn’t get back off again and lay tossing and turning. Guilty thoughts such as the degree to which I was imposing on my friend’s generosity and involving her in risk crowded in on me. Mingled with these disturbing reflections were strange, or not so strange, feelings which I tried not to give attention to. The bedsheets smelt fresh and inviting, they held a lingering scent which served as a reminder that only the night before Rachel’s beautiful limbs had been stretched out where I now lay. Soon they would be reclining there again. The perfume underlined how intimate we had become. One result was that my body was now reacting in a way that was all too predictable. A tent had formed in the front of my skimpy panties which was something I didn’t at all desire! She was supposed to be like a sister to me, after all.

Trying to regain some kind of control, I made the resolve that I would be sure to arouse myself (in the getting out of bed sense!) before my guardian angel returned from work. Then she would be free to have her much-needed rest unhindered by my presence. Having taken this decision, I felt easier in my mind. I turned over and managed to drift off again. However, unsettling dreams haunted me for the remainder of the night, the final one of which seemed to have been triggered by what had happened in that evening’s last encounter with my new acquaintance, Harvey.

I was standing before the young man, clad only in my under-things, while he was holding out some sort of dress for me to put on. I reached out my arms to get it over my head, but became entangled in its voluminous folds. Try as I might I couldn’t pull the dress down to cover my bosom. As I lay enmeshed, I could feel the warmth of a body up close behind me. That sensation felt overwhelmingly pleasant and I started to surrender to it. An arm encircled me from behind and cupped my naked breast. That felt comforting and in response I pressed myself back against the source. Dimly I began to wonder who the arm belonged to and at that point I woke.

The room was beginning to get light. Half-conscious, I discovered that the sensation of being tangled had been caused by my nightdress riding up across my face. In consequence my top half was fully exposed. It was just a dream, but not everything I’d been experiencing had been part of it. The protective arm was real! Half awake, I sat up in panic. I was no longer alone in the bed. “What? Who?”

The arm around my chest pulled me back down and held me securely. “You’ve been dreaming. Go back to sleep” a voice murmured. “I’m completely pooped.”

Dimly I recognised that my bedfellow was none other than Rachel. She must have returned from her shift and had slid into the narrow bed beside me while I slept. Thus reassured, I heaved a sigh of relief and allowed myself to relax in her embrace. I felt totally safe. Then I must have drifted off again because the next time I surfaced, it was fully light and the sun was streaming through a gap in the drapes. In my sleep I had turned on my back and Rachel had her head against my shoulder. She was slumbering in my arms like a baby. A lock of her golden hair had fallen across my face. The sensation of its tickling had probably woken me. I gently removed it and wondering at its lustre fondled the strand gently. My lovely companion responded to this caress by snuggling closer to me, but she slept on.

Her nightdress was a little strappy affair and one of her wonderful breasts was spilled across my chest and one of her legs was stretched over mine. To be this close to someone I’d idolised for so long felt wonderful. Surprisingly I found myself beginning to become really aroused. That was something that hardly ever happened these days. In her sleep she moved the silken thigh which lay across me and it brushed tantalisingly across my panty-clad groin. In response my arousal developed into a full-scale erection. Oh no! That couldn’t be right. Though it felt like heaven to be so intertwined with this sweetly voluptuous body, I knew that I had to do something fast if I wasn’t to lose control.

I summoned up my last reserves of self-command and deliberately but softly slid my bottom half from underneath her and edged it gradually toward the edge of the bed. So far so good! Next I somehow managed to inch my top half free without disturbing my bedfellow. At last I was able to raise myself first to sit and then to stand. At this point Rachel gave a great sigh and turned over. However I could see she hadn’t woken and feeling disproportionately pleased that I hadn’t disturbed her rest, I cautiously covered her up again with the bedsheets.

I retrieved my clothing and slipped silently into the other room where I could dress myself without risk of waking her. I could see by my watch it was now 7:30am and I intended that my friend should sleep the whole morning away.

Today I’d planned to wear the other of the two dresses which I’d been loaned. Its floral pattern was quite striking but after all today was a Sunday and back home Mom always insisted I wear something more elaborate to mark that day of the week. I spent what seemed an inordinate of time perfecting the shaping of the padding inside my borrowed bra. The process of filling it out to my satisfaction was quite tricky but a dramatic bustline was the result. This rigmarole would hopefully be unnecessary if my own familiar clothes ever arrived and I could revert to a less well-endowed shape. I’d borrowed a pair of sandals that could be adjusted to fit me well enough. They offered a more practical choice of footwear than my bridal shoes. Once fully dressed, I applied my make-up with practised attention to detail. Finally! I was ready and able to face the day.

I had reasoned that it would be politic to leave the building before anyone was about. Rachel might then sleep on undisturbed. Later in the day I might return in the guise of a visitor. After scrawling a hurried note so my friend would know where I was if she woke in the meantime, I stepped out of the apartment and quietly closed the door behind me. It seemed that our nosey neighbour was also in the arms of Morpheus, so I braved the risk of using the bathroom before leaving. I took the stairs down to the lobby and left without incident. Now, where to spend the morning?

I had spotted a drugstore and soda fountain close by when we arrived the day before. It was only two blocks away and I reckoned that it would be open for business. I had a little cash in my purse so planned to buy myself a coffee and while away the time with a magazine. As it turned out the hour was too early and the store was closed. Well, no problem. The day was fine and I would go for a stroll and get to know the neighbourhood.

In the early morning the sidewalks were practically deserted and after a little I became conscious of how alone I was in this strange city. An occasional car passed me as I walked, but that was all. Anxiety that I wouldn’t get lost began to overtake me. I tried to dismiss my fretting as mere imaginings, but then a delivery van drove past me and pulled over some yards ahead. When I drew level with its window the vehicle drove off again, but not before I’d caught a glimpse of the driver leering at me through the side mirror. The idea that I must be worth a closer look made me smile but this unsought attention left me feeling more than a little vulnerable.

I caught a glimpse of myself in the plate glass of a shop window and was startled by the impression my reflection made, what my mother would have termed an eyeful! The gaudy frock I had on was hard not to notice. My state of agitation grew. Here I was, arrestingly dressed, in a strange city, with hardly any money, knowing virtually no-one and entirely uncertain as to what my future might hold. For the space of a couple of blocks I was prey to all kinds of fears.

I came upon a church where they were getting ready for their Sunday morning service. Though I wasn’t tempted to go inside, just seeing that building was there and the door was open made me feel a little better. I walked on trying to count my blessings as the saying goes. I reminded myself that in Rachel I had one good friend to look out for me. There was also the strong possibility that I’d made another one the day before. By the time I’d walked in a complete circle and returned to my starting point I could see that the drugstore was now doing business, so I hastened to enter. What I needed was coffee, and fast!

Sipping my drink a few short minutes later, I felt a whole lot more composed. I perused the pages of my magazine idly but it didn’t really hold my attention. Instead I spent the time musing over my restless night. That one of my disturbing dreams included my new friend Harvey gave me pause. His being part of such a stressful day made his figuring in it inevitable perhaps, but what bothered me more was how my body had reacted after my embarrassing encounter with him on the stairs.

My own view of my orientation, and one which I’d so far been able to sustain, was that I was straight. I wasn’t into guys, right. I liked girls. Holding on to this view was sometimes a struggle however, and I had to admit to myself that there had been confusing occasions in my young life when the retention of it was shaky. There was a period when I’d even had a regular boyfriend! To begin with, as I entered my teens, there had been no conflict in my mind. I saw myself as all boy. Later I’d come to accept that the proximity of a good-looking male might trigger unwanted fantasies running through my thoughts but these I always did my best to ignore. Well almost always! Okay, I sometimes found myself enjoying strange feelings! So what. That didn’t make me gay. Did it?!

While I was preoccupied with my musings, I hadn’t noticed that I had become an object of interest to some of the drugstore’s clientele. I should have figured that
a young woman sitting on her own might invite curiosity. The realisation dawned when, after I’d ordered my second coffee, a snigger or two made me aware that a couple of youths on the next table were nudging each other and grinning. I was familiar with this kind of showing off in front of girls. Though it was aimed at myself it didn’t bother me at all. It even provided some reassurance in that they were convinced I was female.

I sipped my drink finding it easy to act as if they weren’t there. There was more to follow. I saw that I was an object of interest to a seedy middle-aged guy across the other side of the room, and that was less welcome. His face bore an ingratiating smirk when he repeatedly tried to catch my eye. It happened whenever I looked up from my reading. Studiously I tried to ignore him and his meaning smiles. The man needed no encouragement, however, and before long he traversed the room and sat himself down in front of me.
After several abortive attempts at conversation by throwaway remarks, to which I made no response, he introduced himself point blank. “I’m Walter.”

Wishing not to seem too aloof I smiled vaguely at him and returned my attention to my magazine.

He repeated the piece of information and followed it up with a direct “What’s your name honey? You sure are a looker. You can call me Walt, if it takes your fancy.”

It didn’t! Sensitised by my encounter with the inquisitive Della the day before, I was reluctant to give even my name to a complete stranger, especially one who punctuated his attempts at conversation by ogling my prominent bust.

“Now don’t be coy,” urged my would-be admirer. “A sweet little thing like you! You certainly got something. Looks like yours don’t come by every day. I can make things happen. You and me ought to get to know each other.”

In your dreams!

I started to panic. I wanted to get out of there, and fast.

“Sorry, but I’m late” I blurted, and, gathering up my purse and magazine, rose from the table as quickly as I could.

My unwanted acquaintance was undeterred and got up to leave too. He gestured me to precede him, smiling disconcertingly all the time. Doubtless he was intending to accompany me. How was I to get rid of him? I panicked some more. Then I hit upon a visit to the restroom. That would offer an immediate escape to somewhere I couldn’t be followed and would appear only too natural, so I made a beeline for that haven. Once safe inside I took my time in there hoping that I’d shaken the man off. When I finally emerged, however, I was dismayed to recognise him in the outline of the male figure which was discernible through the frosted glass of the store doorway. The guy was apparently waiting outside for me. I found myself idly wondering if my excessive popularity should be blamed on the padded cups of my borrowed bra, and more pertinently, was this was what being stalked felt like?

Help!

Making an effort to get a hold of myself, I pummelled my brain, thinking “what would Rachel do?” With her looks, my glamorous friend must have had to deal with the advances of the freshest of the male species nearly every day of her life. I had no idea how she managed, but there seemed to be no end to her resourcefulness. Despairingly I looked around me. Next to the restroom was a door which presumably led to the back of the store. With a quick glance around to check no-one was watching I leaned back against it and when it gave under that pressure, slid myself through.

I stopped and listened but there seemed to be nothing to alarm me so I was encouraged to explore farther. Tripping quietly down a short hallway, I passed a storeroom and a small office. Everywhere was deserted and in seconds I had reached what looked like some kind of fire exit. There was a bar to press to open the door. Next minute I was through into the open air. That felt better! My relief was tempered by the realisation that I was in a small paved yard and that further progress was restricted by an eight foot wall. I heard the door spring shut behind me and it emitted a loud click. There could be no way back, and neither was there any gateway in the wall.

Trapped!

To resist the panic which started to rise inside me once again I reasoned that there had to be some way to escape. If all else failed I could hammer on the door until someone came but that would be a last resort. Eagerly scanning the yard I lit on a wooden crate lying near the door. It was old and splintered but it might just take my weight. I dragged it over against a corner of the outer wall and stood it on end. With a silent prayer I slung my purse over my arm before scrambling up onto the box. Creaking ominously it somehow held as I clung to the brickwork. By cautiously standing I could now reach the top of the wall sufficiently to haul myself up. Moments later I was precariously seated up there.

The drop down the other side was easy enough for me to manage. A pair of refuse cans had been left immediately below my perch so I would be able to make my descent onto the lid of one without due difficulty. I tossed my purse down and then jumped down. Dusting off my clothing, I thought I could congratulate myself on the ingenuity of my escape. I’d even accomplished my getaway without tearing my dress.

My euphoria was to be short-lived, however. I trotted down the back-alley I’d ended up in and emerged onto the main street. I was about fifty yards from the drugstore. Even now I could see my would-be admirer lounging in its doorway. Furtively I walked away as quickly as I could hoping not to attract any notice, but try as I might, the clip-clopping of my heels seemed to echo through the still morning air. I was also forced to go in the direction opposite to that needed to return to Rachel’s apartment. I had no choice.

I hadn’t gone more than a few steps when I heard a “Hey!” behind me and, turning my head a fraction, sure enough out of the corner of my eye could see the man, Walt, walking briskly in pursuit. Were all the male population of this place completely oversexed? I glanced around in desperation to see if I could hail a cab but there were none in sight.

Inspiration dawned as I came level with the church I’d passed earlier. Here was a potential refuge! The sound of a hymn being sung accosted my ears as I darted inside. In the foyer an elderly couple had stationed themselves to provide a welcome. I straightened my dress and tidied my hair before approaching them. I could have wished I was wearing a less striking choice of attire but, apparently unperturbed, the woman smiled disarmingly. “You’re not too late. They’re only on the first hymn, dearie”.

I breathed a sigh of relief and thanked her somewhat over-effusively. Then to my confusion she continued “Oh my, but you forgot your hat!”

I recalled how it would be regarded as unseemly for a woman to enter a church without her head covered. I must have looked aghast. The woman merely laughed at the expression on my face. “Don’t you fret, my poppet, try one of those for size!”

She indicated the windowsill where among other items lay several berets. The available items of headwear looked clean even if they were rather worn. “God is good! People are always leaving their belongings behind and sometimes that comes in handy.”

Tentatively I rummaged and found a white one which might go with my dress. Well, a single girl has to be mindful of appearances even in the direst straits! The man handed me a hymn book and smilingly told me I could find a seat anywhere. I crept quietly inside the worship hall. The building was about two thirds full and a wide cross-section of ages were represented. I saw a vacant pew near the back which would be inconspicuous.
Phew!

After a second hymn, the congregation sat down to hear the reading. It was from a psalm and began “God is our refuge and our strength, a very present help in times of trouble”. I was forced to admit the aptness of that verse on this particular occasion!

After some time inside the church I felt a lot calmer. I wondered about this man Walter and whether I’d overreacted. I consoled myself that I couldn’t have mistaken his undoubted advances. All the same I needed to get a hold of myself if I was to build any kind of life in this city. During the rest of that church service, I became more and more relaxed. Gradually I fell into a kind of doze until I came to with a start when the sermon reached a close. There were some ensuing prayers and after they had ended, the people started to get up. I guessed it would be the final hymn. That was my signal to depart and I was pleased to be able to slip unobtrusively out of the building. I even remembered to leave my borrowed beret on the windowsill. Five minutes later I was climbing the stairs of the apartment block once more, having taken the precaution of checking there was no sign of my former pursuer before I entered.

I clopped across the landing and knocked loudly on Rachel’s door. The noise was for Della’s benefit. Hopefully she would be awake and get the idea I was just visiting again. That might help remove any suspicion I might have staying there. It was evident even before the door opened that my friend had been up and doing. The competing smells of toast, coffee and bacon combined in a gloriously fragrant cocktail which was balm for my frayed nerves. It smelt so good and homely that it was all I could do to stop myself bursting into tears all over again!