Two strangers meet as the old one closes and the new begins.
If nothing else perhaps a New Year can restore hope.
I sat to scribble this afternoon and... it's a New Year.
Any errors, 'Italian' or otherwise are down to my failings.
This is a work of adult fiction.
No resemblance to reality should be inferred or expected.
Copyright KLS 2007.
A Warm Glow
By Kristina.L.S.
It was far too late to worry about what others might think. This night would determine if it was feasible and if that age-old question would be decided one way or the other. Was trying to go on worthwhile or should you just... surrender.
He had dressed carefully after all the preparations. Months and months of electrolysis and other treatments, practicing the voice and critically observing his own mannerisms and posture and constantly comparing to the women he passed daily. Finally, a tracheal shave and a nose job. And now 3 months later, New Years Eve, 'Anna' would see the light of day and brave the night. A crowd a million strong was supposed to crowd the harbour foreshores to eat and drink and cheer in the New Year with another no doubt spectacular fireworks display.
'She' looked again trying to see what others might until with a sigh she grabbed the large shoulder bag and the nylon hamper with travel rug, light picnic a chilled cheap bubbly and a bottle of water. Glanced quickly around the small bed-sit that was now home and with a double check of keys and id took another look in the mirror.
The reflection showed a rueful smile on a somewhat weathered face. A mannish face, which stood to reason, but not... too bad. Forty Two years of male hormones and family and stress and weather... had left marks. Lines that the last 12 months of injections and tablets had softened a little, but not eradicated. A little makeup and careful selection of outfit. The flowing calf length 'peasant' skirt, loose weave sleeveless crew neck top, soft wool shawl tied loosely at the waist as combination belt and wrap should it chill down later. Finally the strappy 1" wedge heeled sandals, 6' was tall enough already. A final brush of the almost shoulder length dark brown hair, not too much grey ... yet. Shook her head and snorted quietly, "Silly old cow, stop procrastinating and go." With a tense flutter in the belly hefted the bags and before the doubts could formulate a suitable objection, headed out the door.
The bounce of the gel filled forms was a feeling she wished was real. Doc Lucy had said it was unlikely that the meagre A cup that had ever so slowly developed over the last year would increase. Slender as she was, her chest was still bigger than most women and so... forms to jump two cup sizes. It all helped to aid in 'passing'. 'So, what if you get read by everyone that looks at you... what then huh?' Less than half a block down the road and the doubts were starting up. The voice of his ex-wife angry and derisory. The court order for maintenance of Emma.
Fourteen years old and about as self centred, sarcastic and cynical as any politician. There was a tinge of regret at the loss of relationship, the now thousand kilometre separation and the unspoken, 'don't keep in touch'. A couple of unreturned messages left on the machine, an 'unknown at this address' letter on a birthday, don't call us... we'll call you... but they took the money. Four hundred and eighty dollars a month which along with doctors bills, the face work and the small rent she paid would slowly eat away at the payout. Twenty three years at the one firm... still, at least they had all got theirs. Other companies had just folded and gone without the employees getting anything.
The short bus ride into the city was uneventful, if nerve wracking. But most were too wrapped up in their own affairs to wonder about some tall fidgety woman sitting alone. Even the group of teenagers that had noisily pushed past, blowing those curly paper whistle things as she disembarked, had paid her no mind.
It took half an hour of wandering to find a patch on the grassy slope that afforded a view and was not too close to the line of porta-loo's that would probably start to smell a bit as the afternoon wore on. Already the line was about 20 long and it would only get longer.
Spread the travel rug and set the hamper on the edge with her shoulder bag next to her pulled out the springy straw beach hat and pushed it into place and leant back to let Anne Rice' voluptuous vision of New Orleans take hold.
It was one of her regular scans of the surroundings and crowd and she spotted this man standing almost militarily erect next to the sandstone wall on the edge of the bay. He stood alone and oblivious of the surrounding multitude staring across the water, watching for...
An hour later as she felt the pangs of distress that signalled a need to use those fibre-glass cubicles that lined one edge of the slope. The man was still there, seemingly unmoved by the ebb and flow around him. She had left her rug with hamper and paper back and waited in line for almost half an hour. A few questioning looks, but nothing serious, she thought.
He was still there, oblivious of the world that moved around him.
She settled again and tried to regain the swirling romance of mystical New Orleans. But... the subtle calculation of those close, as to whether this 'person' was a threat. Stranger danger... predators. Modern paranoia of an ancient and immovable sickness. Raised by publicity to an almost social discussion point, "..met any paedophiles lately?.. Oh yes Johnny was approached in the park the other day... This strange 'man' was staring at Melissa as she played on the swing... Alice was followed home by a blue car..." Where did the line between ridiculous over protection and valid concern stop... and what parent could afford to make an error. The odds might be 500,000 to one... but what if your Billy was that one? Could you ever recover... forgive yourself... if. And so...
It was irrational and upsetting and yet, could Anna blame them. Difference and aloneness, an aberration in the swirling group of humanity of multiples or couples or family groups. She tried to ignore and exude... serenity... 'I am not a threat'... Eventually the surreptitious glances diminished and her thoughts returned to her book. Yet, her attention kept straying to that man.
He stood still, after 4 hours, occasionally sitting on the stone wall to rest and then returning to his upright stance. Indifferent and uncaring of his surroundings. 'Why?'
She put down her book and stared... He was, what, 60's, but something suggested younger. The crisp and neat suit and tie, rather incongruous in the casual almost debauched surroundings, suggested care. 'An old soldier? Sailor? Italian heritage she thought as the small tri-colour on the left lapel, below two... medals?, registered. His hair was thinning and his belt was strained by a slightly protuberant stomach. Five nine or ten, solid and seemingly still fit. No smile, or discernable expression lit his features as over time, hundreds filed past.
As the hours past she became concerned... he had not moved or drunk water. Other than an occasional sagging lean on the small wall, he did not move. It was after nine now and darkness had settled. If any noticed him they did not acknowledge it. Nor did any speak to him... just another stranger. The throng just flowed around and beyond.
Another half hour and the 'itch' began again as she glanced at the line and sighed. There were times when being male was a huge advantage. Sighing again, she rose and joined the queue.
It was 'only' forty five minutes and she hoped her rug and hamper were as she left them. Her gaze travelled to that section of wall. He was still there, looking slightly wilted and sun-blasted.
'Why?'
For no reason she could understand beyond curiosity she walked up to him.
"Please. You have been standing for hours. Come and sit with me. I'm alone and would welcome your company. New Years Eve is no time to spend alone and even a stranger can give some sense of sharing."
She was never more glad of the time spent on vocal practice as he stared at her for a moment. A certain rejection... and then with a tiny almost invisible smile, " Thank you segnora. Your compassion does you credit. Perhaps more humane than those that would claim superiority. I would gladly join you."
A sudden cold shiver hit as she took in his words. He knew... and yet, he had accepted 'her' clumsy invitation. With a bark of laughter he offered his arm to her and despite the surreal feeling she gently took it and led the way back to the rug, which was thankfully as she had left it. It seemed unbelievably odd to have a man, shorter than herself and a total stranger, sitting beside her on her first New Years.
He settled and after a few moments of polite refusal accepted some water and a piece of chicken. Grapes, cheese, crackers, salad. A small meal that he demolished in moments, oblivious of the fact that there was no more.
He settled back and apparently slept. She was reading when some time later he started talking. A tale of a life. Forced emigration, settling in a new land, unfamiliar and strange. Growing from a small child to an adult and becoming a 'native'. Holding allegiance to two cultures and acceding primacy to the New home. The place his parents had chosen as, far enough and therefore safe. Growing, learning, fighting prejudice. With a nod of respect, became a part of rather than apart. Had married and then when as his twentieth year approached, the call had come, he accepted. War... pain and horror. Changed, he returned and rebuilt. Children. Two, both dieing... drugs and an alcohol fuelled car crash.
His Sylvana unable to accept and blaming him had fought and lost to pass on five bitter years later. Fifteen years of guilt and anguish eating at his soul. Until the clench of pain had caused him to fold in half and turn white as a dead fish as the stab hit his gut. Tests, indignity upon indignity. Then a verdict. Passionless and direct. Cancer. Inoperable. Options... all refused. And now pain was a constant, but probably not for long.
She glanced at him then, watched his face as a small smile crossed over the tired features. A sudden grimace and then eyes still closed, the smile returned.
"So. Ma bella, how do you come to be as you are? Alone and insecure. A woman who is not and yet is, more than some born to it. "
He did not move or open his eyes as he lay on the rug seemingly at peace as her thoughts ran rampant. How dare he. Get off my rug and go back to where... Yet she said nothing. After some minutes she started to talk. A convoluted tale of pain and longing. Baffled indecision and gradual submersion as reality took hold. Marriage, disillusionment. Loss and solitude, leading to... a possibility. A chance to be. An experiment that should the night prove a failure would lead to... extinction.
At that his eyes cracked open and he almost snarled, " Do not surrender yourself to the expectations of others. You must be yourself and live. I see a woman that has heart and soul. More than many of the thousands that surround us here in this place on the cusp of a New Year. A dawn of possibilities. Be a new arrival, an immigrant. Seek your place amongst those that might scoff or scorn what they do not know. Do not... just give up!"
He was taken by a fit of coughing that knocked him back and left him gasping as she tried to offer water and comfort.
After some minutes he sipped and smiling relaxed again.
They sat and talked of nothing from time to time. As it drifted closer to that moment when old became new. A minute or two before and she opened the bottle and poured two plastic tumblers of bubbles and helped him to his feet as the count down commenced. They stood and watched the flare and spray of colour. The boom and mad spirals. Flowing spray of sparkling light as Pink Floyd echoed around the small cove. After twenty minutes they stood side by side and she realised he had wrapped his arm about her waist and did not mind. He whispered something like 'Grazzi ma bella... Thank you for you kindness to an old man.' And then slumped to sit heavily, pulling her down with him.
" It is a beginning Anna, do not waste it."
She felt him tense a few times as she tried to move and... do... what exactly? He pulled his arm tight and short of wrestling she could not pull free. Then only moments later his grip relaxed and he leant against her. She knew, even without ever feeling it before. He was gone. Yet it was not cold. The night... or morning, strictly speaking, was clean and clear and fresh. She grasped his loosening hand and pulled it tight as her other arm wrapped itself across his shoulders.
With a strange contentment and a warmth not fully from the still humid sky, "Sleep well John... Gianni... may you find peace as you helped me to." With her briefly loosened hand she poured another two tumblers and toasted...
And so another Year might begin, somewhere, sometime...
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It's sort of funny how a relationship can happen almost without you realising it. I mean sure the idea of it is nice, but you fear the loss even before there's something to lose. Self perception and esteem, or lack of maybe, has you second guessing in a vacuum. Yet almost despite that quiet longing that you think you hide so well, you want the affirmation. Someone to look at across a restaurant table simply sharing thoughts and feelings and maybe a spoonful of mango mousse. A connection to another, to feel a warm body against you, whether walking down the street, sitting on the lounge with a movie or… perhaps the ultimate vindication, in bed. To feel that person even when they're not there... has to be something, but is it love, or loneliness mixed with wishful thinking? And are you ever sure where their thoughts are?
It was just another contract job the agency was handling and there I was, one of a dozen girls working the room. Traditional black and white, skirts and heels. Not too high in the heels department in my case because I was already too damn tall. Sure I could mostly ignore the fact I was taller than most men, let alone women, but sometimes that difference poked me in the eye because I stood out in a crowd. That wasn't always comfortable.
Most people like things traditional and six foot girls fall outside that, but thankfully there are always exceptions.
I felt the eyes first and after a minute or two of smiling and being ignored by people picking sushi rolls off my tray as I circulated, I saw them.
Soft brown, almost amber, in a pleasant but not pretty face framed by wavy shoulder length light brown hair. A tailored charcoal suit and seemingly effortless casual stance showing a long lean body. Tall, but not my height, then as I already said, not many people are. Elegant and stylish and that small almost smile caused a little tickle in my belly.
An elegant hand plucked a roll and the other gently slid a business card into the waistband of my skirt as I strolled past and try as I might I couldn't ignore those eyes or that smile. Sometimes I miss pockets. It took some strength to wait until I was back toward the kitchen to look., hmmm... name, title, business and phones and email. On the back in a neat flowing hand, Pls call me, I'd like to know you.
That tickle again, dare I? Could I do that? Ah, a quiet struggle with desire and curiosity and a pinch of fear wrestling it out. It took me four days. I cheated a little and rang the mobile during morning business hours, sort of thinking I could leave a message and force a return call and also avoid any inquisitive secretary. Fair I thought, and I did and the message was a lovely silky voice and not some generic service. Of course I ummed and ahhhed and probably sounded like a moron.
But I did get a call and that silky voice set butterflies suiciding en mass in my belly.
We met up, coffee first and a brief get together chat that turned into a three hour session and then dinner and a soft kiss as I was settled into a taxi, a casual wave and that smile as I looked out the back window. Oh boy, can you fall in love just like that?
Suddenly there it was, that normal everyday thing that we all search for and take for granted when we have it, a relationship. Something I always doubted was possible for me. To have someone that looked past the not quite girlyness, the fears and insecurities, the occasional looks from passers by. Someone to share with, to hold and... just possibly... to lay with and… love.
Imagine that, doing couple stuff. Me! Hah, who'd a thunk it, sure as hell I didn't. But there it was an actual partnering. You know, lunches and dinners and movies and strolls in the park and gallery visits, market browsing, couple stuff. Days and weeks and I ached for the sound of that voice to see that smile to feel that touch.
Way past the third date, so I understood the late nights, the work calls that took precedence. The broken dates. I forgave it all at a word or a touch. So I ask myself can I make the twentieth into the third? Some alchemy of time and space to share what I had been afraid to. To give up something if that's what it would be, a gift and most likely it only really mattered to me. Imagine being a virgin twice, aint that somethin'.
So here it is the big night. A home invite and me doing the cooking and taking all the care and sweating over every ingredient. Vacuumed the place three times and wiped and scrubbed while trying to be super careful of the nails. Shifted that vase about a dozen times and it probably ended up exactly where it had been at the start.
Hours on the dressing, the lingerie, the dress, makeup... everything had to be perfect. Stir and taste and try not to sweat, it's just nerves. Set the table and finally sit and wait, because if you stress out too much...
It's time... and a call... oh, late. Okay. Well, still coming. Finally...
That silken voice.
"Hey my lovely lanky girl."
That gentle touch, a soft sensual kiss. A drink and small talk and we feed each other guacamole on corn chips as an entrée. Dinner... and the plates were cleaned before they went back to the kitchen. Yes.
Soft music and slow dancing as those elegant hands run through my hair and stroke my throat sending shivers down my spine and then slide softly downwards to cup my breasts. I freeze as silken lips replace the hands at my throat and slowly trace up my neck... and I gasp as the hands slide down and cup my bum, pulling me tight and those lips... caress mine.
"Beautiful girl, you taste wonderful, you smell divine Let me look at you."
At a gesture, almost part of a dance, I step back and slowly begin to strip. Anticipation wars with fear as I drop my dress to the floor, slipping off my shoes and with a twirl slink toward the bedroom dropping the bra as I go. Then, a turn in the doorway and I slowly slide the briefs down and beckoning step backwards, once, twice to the bed and those amber eyes and that smile follow.
The sheets are turned down and on all fours I crawl up the bed doing my best seductress routine and just for a moment as I glance over my shoulder to see the reaction, I feel in control.
Slowly, elegantly as I watch, the clothes are shed and I am joined on the bed. A touch and a kiss and I shiver. Lay back... and surrender. Tentative at first I try to respond and give as well as take.
Shudder and finally let go as my whole body tingles and small electric shocks roam from forehead to toes.
"Oh... that was... I... " I closed my eyes as a tear slipped from the corner of both. "I love you."
"My beautiful girl."
Lips cover my right nipple and suck gently... and slowly, but surely, with practised deliberation a stroke and a kiss and....
Eventually wrapped in a lovers arms, a place I had doubted I would ever be, I slept.
A gentle kiss.
"Hmmm, morning. Thank you, last night was wonderful."
"I'm glad, it was a lovely night wasn't it."
"I love you."
A kiss, soft and tingly.
"You're beautiful in the morning."
Another kiss and my blood seemed too thin somehow.
"I have to go. I need to get home and change and be at work in two hours."
"Do you have to go, it's so early?"
"Sorry gorgeous."
"I love you."
"I'll call you later, okay."
A touch, those smiling amber eyes and that small smile. A few minutes, dressed and leaning over, a kiss. I hear the door click shut.
Flat on my back, naked from the waist up I stare at the ceiling, but do not see it. The room seems smaller suddenly, colder and I pull the sheet up, roll to my right away from the doorway and bite my lip as the tears begin.
Cause I can't make you love me if you don't.~~
This little thingie inspired by this song ~~~
http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=KTLR3zHxnr8&feature=related
Cause I can't make you love me if you don't
You can't make your heart feel something it won't
Here in the dark, in these final hours
I will lay down my heart and I'll feel the power
But you won't, no you won't
Cause I can't make you love me if you don't.
I'll close my eyes, then I won't see
The love you don't feel when you're holdin' me
Mornin' will come and I'll do what's right
Just give me till then to give up this fight
And I will give up this fight.
Cause I can't make you love me if you don't
You can't make your heart feel something it won't
Here in the dark, in these final hours
I will lay down my heart and I'll feel the power
But you won't, no you won't
Cause I can't make you love me if you don't.
Reid/Shamblin '91M/strong>
This is adult fiction.
No resemblance to reality should be inferred or expected.
Copyright KLS 2009.
"Hello Carole, it's Lynne... Yes, I've decided to take next week after all. Things are quiet, so no problems hopefully... Yep, just the week and of course I have my leash, I mean my mobile if I'm really needed."
She had a small smile on her face with that line, a slightly wry one with the double-edged truth of it. But hey my girl, you chose this didn't you. Wasn't really a question she acknowledged to herself.
Carole, half talking to herself on the other end, noted dates in and out and then as an actual response said to, ... "have a good time and... relax".
Lynne could hear the not quite order in that last word. Yeah well, she needed a break as she'd already admitted, hence the tentative plans that had now solidified.
"Relax eh, sure Carole, how do spell that again?"
She heard the laugh as Carole replied "h-o-l-i-d-a-y" and chuckled herself in response.
"Okay, I get the hint, see you Monday week."
A genuine, "have a good time", came back as they hung up and she pictured Carole smiling but shaking her head at her idiot boss. Her own smile spread at that image and she turned back to the window.
Friday afternoon and the day was done. Most would be heading home or to various trendy bars to start the wind down for the weekend. Or maybe ramp up for the weekend depending on relationships or lack thereof. A wave of sadness washed over her lightly as she thought about cancelled plans... and yes, a relationship.
"Damn you Gary" she muttered quietly. Eighteen months they'd been together. Matched in many ways and the differences worked well too. They were ostensibly rivals but that had never gotten in the way. It was assumed by most that knew both that marriage would follow in due course. That's sort of what the planned weekend about to come had been for she thought. More than just another dirty weekend out of town at any rate. He'd given hints and she'd hinted right back and allowed her imagination to work on the how and where he'd ask and then the sex afterwards. Whooo, that had her twitching in her seat in anticipation, just a little wet.
But then just like that he'd phoned and said, "Sorry can't make next weekend; and it's not really working for me so... "
She'd heard the rest of what he'd said, but couldn't remember a word of it. Which was very unusual for her. But then that wasn't a usual phone call.
She'd left in semi shock that afternoon and only vaguely could recall the weekend. Sunday night she'd just sat in front of the telly and flicked channels spooning chocolate pecan swirl ice cream. Hmmm, Sixty Minutes, total crap half the time but sometimes interesting. Tick, tick, tick, tick, let's see huh.
She sat and watched and one story had just grabbed her.
Looking up Lost Loves. That first real romance that was never forgotten and how many, disillusioned after marriage breakdowns or unsuccessful relationships had decided to try and reconnect. Meet up again with the high school sweetheart or whoever it was that still sat in that dusty corner of their heart. A faint sweet memory that still: ten, twenty, forty years later, resonated. They showed men and women looking up and finding that old flame.
True to form they did the 'balance' angle by talking to a psychologist about the possible pitfalls and associated risks of trying to relive a memory. But finishing on a high note they showed two couples reunited and both looking at a possible relationship again and buzzing with a sort of winning the lottery joy.
Her thoughts had immediately turned cynical as she'd scoffed aloud and mumbled."Yeah sure, but you're all still the same people you were way back when, just older."
But... her own memory tumbled backwards and went straight to one person. Her first love and the confusion and hurt of how it had, just... sort of... faded out.
Nineteen, a little naíve and opinionated and still a virgin she grinned to herself. Even more surprising so was he as she later discovered. Both of them here at Sydney Uni, studying hard and mostly keeping on the outer edge of the party scene. Different courses so they didn't cross paths too often, still she'd seen him around, but a boyfriend? No that was not on the radar, at all, so...
Steve seemed to be a bit of a loner keeping very much to himself, yet every time she got dragged out by the other girls to, "at least have a drink or two", he'd be there. She went to the campus bar and he was there playing guitar in a sort of country band made up of students. Then again in a nearby pub and then a week later doing a duo thing with a girl keyboard player in a restaurant. For some reason she found herself listening closely to the soppy standards they were playing and thinking he was good and…cute. She watched his 'partner' and there seemed to be no connection beyond a friendly work feeling. No obvious closeness.
That had made her smile and she noticed, in a carefully offhand way, a few girls come on to him. She watched him smile and brush them off, keeping to himself. She realised that she'd seen the same thing happen several times before. Guitar player… and some girls try to get close, but he always stayed alone, "a sort of little boy lost thing", at least that's what a girlfriend who was in one of his classes had said. Plenty tried but no one got anywhere so some thought he was gay.
She'd smiled at Lynne with a twinkle and said," So interested are you? You could talk about how to stay single without really trying, you both seem to have that down. Zen and the modern celibate, there's probably a course."
It had been said with a grin but still stung a little.
Then a week later she allowed herself to be talked into going to a party. She was ahead on her courses so shrugged and went along. A big old house with two couples and three single guys sharing and Steve was one of them. One girl with too much eye-makeup was very obviously after him and he apparently just wasn't interested. The girl kept hovering close by and brushing her hands on his arm or chest as he talked and he just looked uncomfortable... and drank.
He stood to refill whatever it was he was tossing back and the girl stood with him and pressed herself against his side... he just edged away a little.
"You can touch me you know." She'd not quite shouted and a bunch of people looked of course.
He just looked at her sadly and said, "No I can't."
"Shit are there any straight men left in this fuckin' city?!!" She stomped off in search of someone to touch her Lynne guessed.
He filled his glass with Scotch and slumped into a bean bag chair, picked up the guitar that was sitting against the lounge and used it as a shield of sorts, plucking and strumming quietly.
A few people half listened and drank while chatting. He was good and Lynne felt... what, protective? He seemed alone in a room full of people.
At a pause in his playing she squatted in front of him. "Are you okay? You don't seem to enjoy this much."
He looked straight at her and smiled crookedly. "I hate fucking parties and I'm seriously pissed. Most of a bottle of scotch will do that I guess. Sorry shouldn't swear... not polite."
"You seem... I don't know, sad and this is your place isn't it, your friends? You don't seem drunk."
"Oh trust me I'm drunk, no way am I lying down for a while. My little room is out the back and I only know about ten people here, so... friends, not really. Think I'll go for a walk. "
"Do you mind if I join you? I'm not much for parties either."
He seemed surprised at that, almost afraid and stopped mid push up from the bean bag.
"Sure if you'd like a walk... it's cool out... but I need the air." He'd smiled a little but the eyes stayed sad as though he expected her to change her mind. Wanted her to?
"Just let me grab my jacket, okay." She smiled and pressed her palm against his upper arm. Again he seemed a little surprised but nodded and stood still. As soon as he saw her coming back he headed for the door, she caught up as he headed across the front lawn.
"Hey slow down a little huh, grass and heels are not a good mix."
"Oh... sorry. Sure, you okay?"
"Yes I'm fine... um..." Her eyes looked for a path across the slightly boggy ground and she slipped slightly. He grasped her right hand with his left as she stabilised and tip-toed across to the footpath and they kept strolling. Hands still clasped and no words spoken, though she was seriously tempted several times. As they walked she stole little sideways glances at him and realised she had no idea what he was thinking, but wanted to.
The long handled coffee spoon wobbled in her mouth as she shook her head at her own nuttiness. Damn girl, eat your bloody ice cream and stop fantasising about old boyfriends. Then another rueful shake of the head as she coughed at swallowing a cold lump. Yeah well… one particular boyfriend, so what does that say hmmm?
Her memories wandered about and looked on at meeting up and chatting a few times and how shy he'd been, almost diffident, but she knew there was a connection. Then after waiting for him to make a move and finally deciding he wasn't going to, she asked him out. Something she'd never even considered doing before.
A few evenings at little local restaurants and a few in trendy wine bars where he was playing. Within a month they were living together in a small flat and the sex had been fantastic. They'd both lied about being virgins. She was but had claimed not to be and he also said no, but she was sure, despite him being way more attentive to her pleasure than she'd expected, that he was too. The next year had been wonderful and they'd shared everything and she had no doubts at all he was her best friend and it was just possible she might be in love. Tall, lean, athletic, thoughtful and gentle, oh yeah, nice-looking too, what's not to like. Then seemingly out of the blue, well he'd always been a little introspective, but… he'd sat her down and said he had to leave, apologised profusely and with tears in his eyes, handed her two month's rent, packed his stuff and… disappeared. He'd left the courses at Uni and vanished, no one knew where. Some said interstate, maybe Melbourne. But no one knew.
It took six months before she'd even considered going out with another guy and if they even looked like they might own a guitar she walked away, fast.
And here she was almost twenty years and a half dozen relationships of varying intensity later contemplating going back to the beginning. You must be bloody mad girl. He's probably married with kids by now. What the hell would he make of some long forgotten girlfriend turning up to say hi? She snorted at her perverse reverse logic or whatever it was and almost without thinking stuck the spoon in the bucket and wandered to her little home office to grab a pen and pad.
So what do you remember about him eh?
Name, Steven Edward Janssen, D.O.B. 12th Aug '71, six months younger than her Feb date. She smirked at that, she'd copped some flack for dating a younger man, good natured teasing really. Last known address, 4/21 Agnost Ave Glebe, yeah Nineteen ninety bloody one ya daft bitch. Sheee-it, talk about current. Parents lived in the mountains, Wentworth Falls, no sibs. Attended Sydney Uni, Feb '89 through July '91. He'd done his vanishing act just shy of his twentieth birthday.
She looked into space and pondered, was that all? Well no, there were lots of little memories, general and personal, but that was the basic facts.
She let her mind wander and picture him as he'd been; tall and slim, athletic but not muscle bound at all. Soft blue eyes, which sounded sort of contradictory, but wasn't. The way he smiled, widely and openly with that gentle interested expression that could switch to curious or teasing in a blink. Listening intently even when she was ranting. The tilt of the head letting his somewhat long brown hair fall to the side. How he'd walked around the whole weekend once with it plaited after she'd done it for him. Those lovely slender artist's hands, musician's hands and how gentle their touch.
She shivered in pleasant memory and laughed aloud. Christ girl, get a grip, this is the dumbest idea you've had in god knows how long.
Much to her amusement and slight exasperation the idea had not gone away; so after tossing it about for a day or so she'd contacted a PI she knew and asked him to find Steve. Three days later she had a report with a couple of pages of info that perversely she hadn't read. She laughed at her own cowardice in not wanting to know any details, just where he was. She had an address, surprisingly not too far away from where she sat. Annandale, just south of the city and not far at all from where they'd lived all those years ago.
She slipped on her jacket, tucked the A4 envelope in her shoulder bag, grabbed its straps and her handbag, glanced around to check and flicked off the lights. Smirking at herself she recited aloud Carole's gentle admonition, "H-o-l-i-d-a-y. eh Carole, yeah sure thing. I'll see how that works out I guess."
The six block walk across through Darling Harbour to her Pyrmont apartment was usually spent mulling over the work of the day gone or to come. This time it revolved on a row of town houses a few k's away and a face she hadn't seen in a long time.
The weekend was spent in a flurry of cleaning and minor redecorating. Alternating in long introspective silences... sometimes memory heavy and other times laughing ruefully at her own insanity.
Does Alzheimers hit at thirty-eight very often? Perhaps not, but looniness likely didn't rely on age all that much. Never too young to be a raving nutter eh. Good thing no one's around to hear you laughing girl.
Or watch as she slumped into a lounge chair with hiccups and tears as the insane humour of the whole thing struck her. Curiously she found that her tears turned to a more cathartic plain old cry. Well there you go girl you have officially lost it. But she actually felt pretty damn good. Tomorrow she would see: well 'if ' things went to plan. She wondered how he'd look and had a twinge of doubt. What if he doesn't even recognise you? Or worse looks at you pityingly and plays the gentleman. That brought another short burst of laughter. Nuts. No doubt at all. Shaking her head she headed for the shower.
"Now I know I'm nuts. Bloody certifiable." she muttered to herself as she squirmed in her seat. The deep blue Audi S4 sat on a slight bend 50 metres from the town house where one S.E. Janssen lived. Memo to self, never drink coffee within days of needing to sit for hours in your car. Finally with another squirm she gave up and walked a little over a block to the bar on the corner of Johnson St and shamelessly used the facilities. It was a little after six and she'd been sitting for over two hours. The bar was nice in a subdued sort of way. A blend of earnest student types in woven caps and lots of scarves and the yuppie conservatives in various styles of inner city chic. She smiled at that last. You fit right in girl. Used to in one and now do in the other.
As she headed for the door a woman in the corner facing half away caused a small tickle of recognition, but Lynne was pretty sure she didn't know her. With a mental shrug she pushed through the door and turned back toward her car.
After another hour it was quite dark so she gave up and turned the key to go home. Tuesday's another day, so... tomorrow then. As she rolled down the road the woman from the bar was walking toward her. Tall, with an athletic build, just Steve's sort, wonder if he knows her. She slowed and pulled into the kerb to watch in the rear view as tall and trim entered that gateway and headed to that door, pulled a key and went inside.
"Oh crap. Now what Lynnette? He's got a girlfriend. Shit." The quietly spoken comment struck home emotionally and she shook her head back and forth several times to stop the tears. Didn't quite work, but opening her eyes wide she brushed them with a forefinger and bit her cheek.
Okay, so be it. Get it together and... no, not now. Tomorrow, knock on the door and say hello and then let it go if you need to. Stupid bitch, what the hell were you expecting? She's probably his damn wife and there's kids at footy practice or something. Twenty fucking years girl. That's a lifetime, why should his have stood still just to suit you?
Another deep breath, blown out slowly as she gripped the steering wheel at ten to two and pressed hard to shift the tension. She stared blankly out the windscreen for a moment, took her foot off the brake and pulled slowly away.
Twenty minutes later she sat slumped in her fave lounge chair and slurped a nice Pinot weighing whether to actually read everything that A4 envelope contained. It wasn't that much really she knew having glanced at it and stopped at the address in the first par, but it would tell her enough to know just where she might stand. But dealing day in day out with truth and then shading it to fit she didn't really want to. She could have done that a week ago, but hadn't because she wanted the fantasy to play out, one way or the other. The odds had now gone against a happy ever after, as she quietly admitted was always likely.
But… there was still a chance. Most likely... or, seemingly obvious was not always, so... she'd play it out. With that decision made she sipped slowly and tried to run alternate scenarios in her head. Gave that up with a bark of laughter and a shake of her head, flicked the remote and began to surf, ah... Master Chef, maybe I'll learn something.
The next day she dithered and stuffed around finding things that needed doing until finally with an exasperated cry she banged her head three times against the fridge door, growled at herself, grabbed her keys and bag and headed to the car before she changed her mind.
It was after five when she parked a little further up the road than the day before. Pretty much dark except for the streetlights and passing traffic and as she turned off the motor she glimpsed lanky closing the door and walking up toward her. Boot jeans, flat slouch tan ankle boots, heavy tailored shirt and a long creamy pashmina style scarf... and... that jacket. That sandy suede hanging to mid thigh with the skinny lapels and the tie belt jacket.
She'd been there when Steve bought it, a little recycle shop in the Imperial Arcade. Had kidded him about it being very Indiana Jones but he needed the hat, oh and the whip, don't forget the whip.
At which he'd replied, "Ooh you kinky bitch."
She'd blushed and laughed.
As lanky walked past Lynne got a better look... yep the same jacket alright, though looks like the waist had been nipped in a little. It hung loose with the belt flipping as she walked, Steve used to wear it the same way almost never tied or buttoned it.
She slid out the door, beeped the locks and followed almost without thinking about it.
A slow ambling window-shopping stroll that would, Lynne guessed, wind up at the little bar on the corner. Feeling awfully self-conscious she hung back as long and lean did in fact head into the bar. She watched from the footpath as a wine was sitting on the bar. Must have been poured as she was seen coming through the door. Hellos were exchanged and a bit of small talk before lanky took a table near where she'd been sitting the other day.
Lynne stood for a minute trying to work up the nerve to go in and say something. Jesus girl, what's the matter with you, just go and say hello. With a snort of laughter at the butterflies in her stomach, she did. As she got closer there was that tickle of recognition again and she shook her head, stopped a pace short...
"Excuse me, but....."
Long and lean turned and faced her with slight surprise and curiosity at being addressed, that changed in a blink to... what? Fear, shock, pain, sadness? Lynne wasn't sure, but then she gasped herself and sat heavily opposite with a half-formed sentence stuck in her throat and just stared dumbly.
A minute maybe, silence, except there was noise, just nothing recognisable.
Those lips quirked a little into a crooked smile and with a slightly sad look on that face, gazed across the table. "Hello Lynne, it's been a long time. You're looking good." There was a slightly resigned look in those eyes as the wine was picked up and sipped, "Can I get you one? You look like you've seen a ghost."
Nodded slightly in answer to the question when Lynne made no sound, stood and went to the bar.
Lynne's body swivelled on the chair as she followed with her eyes trying to connect this reality with the fantastical dream she'd harboured. Oh shit Lynne, Sixty Minutes never looked at this angle. Fucking hell, now what?
The slight bump as the glass was set down near her elbow stopped her introspection and she shook herself took a big sip and looked across the table. "Um... thanks, ah...."
"Steph. Stephanie Elaine, simpler keeping the initials the same."
"Oh, yeah, I guess, okay. I...." She shook her head and tried to get some semblance of rational thought working.
Steph sat quietly opposite just watching Lynne with a sort of sad, bruised expression on her face. As though waiting for some undeserved punishment. Seemingly resigned to it but not flinching.
Gulping her drink Lynne raised a finger in a wait gesture went to the bar and got two more after waving at Steph's table the girl serving had nodded and poured from a bottle amidst a dozen or so in the glass-doored fridge, a Tyrrells Vat 1 Semillon.
She returned to the table and sat, pushing one glass across as... Steph tossed the rest of her first down.
Just being polite, Lynne guessed. Her thoughts were a wild scramble, she had questions by the dozen, but where to start. So she sat for a minute or two, with her eyes never leaving the person sitting opposite, roving up and down trying to see similarities and differences.
The hair much the same yet cut with more obvious style. Brows slightly more arched, ears pierced with four centimetre hoops. Light makeup and the hands made more feminine with the shaped and painted nails. The evident bust shaping the heavy blouse, a faint hint of perfume. Posture, more correct. The carefully modulated voice sounding like a lady newsreader.
Lynne closed her eyes to bring the superimposed image in her head into focus with the reality seated in front of her. Stephanie, do I know you at all? Did I ever know you?
After several minutes there was a soft sigh from Steph. "So Lynne, just passing, saw the lights on?"
She blushed at that, "Ah, no... not exactly."
And she proceeded to get Steph up to date with her life, the relationship with Gary, then Sixty Minutes and the last couple of weeks.
"So you see it's a bit of a shock to the system and leaves me with so many questions I have no idea where to start. I mean I never had a clue and..." Her voice faded to silence and she shook her head slowly. "It bites a little that I didn't see something. I don't think I'm that clueless or narrow minded. Yet... I don't know, I guess I'm a little lost. I used to think you were my best friend along with lover, but you just left and never said a word, God that hurt. A little part of me wants to slap you one for that, yet I can see that there was a lot I didn't understand and maybe never will. If I'm honest though the thing that hurt the most was the kick to my pride. I don't really have a best friend anymore, haven't for a long time. Lot's of colleagues and acquaintances, but not many friends… and no one from years ago, I miss that. Maybe we could be friends again, or anew or something, I'd like that."
Steph looked steadily across the table apparently trying to get a feel of the situation. She sighed softly after a moment or two having it seemed reached some conclusion. "Alright I suppose I owe you a bit of a story at least; let's grab a couple of pizzas and some more wine and we can wander back to my place. Give you a chance to observe me in my natural habitat. Maybe we'll find out if we can be friends or not."
Lynne watched the emotions play across Steph's face as she spoke. Yes... 'she', strange as that is in a way, but yes. Damn, she seems almost afraid, but why? All the negatives she has probably faced at some point I suppose, What did it cost her to get to here? Okaaay, tread easy girl. "Okay that sounds cool. Pizza is fine, you do that as you know the places and I'll grab a couple of bottles. "
Steph smiled slightly and flipped her phone open, dialled and ordered a medium Supreme and a Marinara delivered, with a glance to Lynne who nodded.
A quick trip to the bottle shop and they strolled back down the road each lost in their own thoughts. It was only a few minutes walk. Steph led the way up the path and opened the door turning to face Lynne.
"Please, come in."
"Thank you." Lynne smiled widely, if a pinch stiffly and stepped past through the door.
She seems a little tense. More than just down to inviting someone into her home and hoping they aren't disappointed. I guess having a ghost from the past waft into your new life could put you on edge for a bit.
She was still having a little trouble getting her head around the whole Steph slash Steve thing. But working on it.
There were a couple of lamps on so Lynne could see pretty well. One standing in the corner angled up the wall showed a nice cozy lounge room with a mid size LCD telly in one corner and a couple of three seater lounges arranged on angles around a slim coffee table. The other was in the kitchen that she could see through an open servery bench where Steph placed her bag and scarf and hooked her coat on a rack in the corner.
An open wooden staircase angled up across the servery to the upstairs. Bedroom or rooms Lynne guessed. Everything was nice and neat if a little sparse. Not obviously girly or anything but she wasn't really sure what she'd expected. One feature did catch her eye and she stared at it for a minute. A lovely print beautifully framed of Gustav Klimt's 'Judith', it glowed as 'she' stared jauntily out at them.
"That is beautiful Steph; I love his stuff."
"Yes it is isn't it, I think it makes the room." She smiled that small half smile, " You turned me on to his stuff way back when, I've got a smaller, 'The Kiss' up in the bedroom."
"Really, hmmm." She realised she was miles away, galaxies maybe and started slightly as Steph's voice called her back.
"Here let me take those and open one; just drop your bag next to mine there."
She smiled and did as suggested watching as a couple of glasses were pulled from a cupboard, the second bottle laid down in the fridge and then as Steph worked the waiters friend like a pro.
"Cheers." Steph passed a glass right handed while holding the other in her left. "So, fancy the cooks tour then?"
"Sure, this is nice."
Steph waved her to follow down a short hallway to a nice little sunroom flicked a switch which lit up the rear courtyard and pulled the curtain on a wide pair of French doors to show a basically neat area with a round table with a collapsed shade brolly in the centre and a couple of chairs. The side showed an obvious in-progress gardening project, a long planter box, bags of soil and some potted ferns.
Nodding as the outside went back into darkness she sipped, glancing into what appeared to be a laundry come bathroom and followed Steph back to the kitchen and then…upstairs.
Another lamp was on... in the main bedroom Lynne guessed and sure enough. A nice slightly feminine room, more colours and light touches like cushions rather than frills or anything giving that feeling. The print on the wall to the side drew her eyes and again pulled her focus somewhere else for a moment.
"Second bedroom opposite, which is more a study come junk room and the main bathroom."
Again she nodded and looked around. Some junk room. It was neater than hers by far, only a cardboard box of books or something to give an out of place, unfinished touch. "No guitar anywhere?"
"Well I still have a couple in the cupboard there, but I don't play much anymore."
"That's a shame, you were good."
"Uh, yeah, thanks... so let's go sit shall we?"
They trooped back downstairs and Lynne was constantly trying to match the person here with her to the memories she had of Steve. She could see him and yet he wasn't there; it was mildly confusing. Her expressions and gestures were subtly different from the ghost image in Lynne's head, out of focus and blurry like a TV signal as a jet flew overhead. Yet there was a more natural easiness than the slight... what, tightness, tension that Steve had carried?
Steph gestured Lynne to sit while she grabbed a couple of tea towels for finger wiping and the open bottle from the kitchen. They both settled and sipped silently for several minutes, saved from their introspection by the doorbell.
Lynne watched as Steph grabbed the cash she'd pulled out ready and strolled to the door. Her movements were easy, loose and subtly female. There was a brief conversation and she returned with the two boxes. Set them on the coffee table and flipped the lids, "Tuck in then."
They each ate a piece and another, alternating, then more slowly a third, sipping through a couple of glasses partly spurred by the anchovies on the marinara, partly by mutual nervousness.
Steph emptied the remains of the first bottle into their glasses and went to get the next. A soft crinkle of foil and a light pop and she returned placing the bottle between the boxes and sat back with another piece of marinara.
"Okay Lynne, the story such as it is. I guess first why I left as and when I did."
Lynne nodded as Steph spoke, grabbed another piece herself and sat back to listen, promising not to interrupt.
"Well first, I did I think love you, maybe still do, I don't know. But... you remember that night a few weeks before I left when a bunch of us went to Newtown and had dinner then ended up in that Pub with the drag show on?" Lynne scrunched her eyes and frowned then nodded as she did remember.
"Well I guess we all got a little drunk and you and that really tall guy, basketball player I think, started slagging off at the girls in the show." Lynne frowned again but then blushed and nodded once more.
"Well the girls mostly ignored you but you two did get more than a couple of venomous looks. As you might now realise that struck me a little where it hurt and got me thinking about you and me. Didn't help that you kept bringing it up now and then over the next week or so, running 'them' down and making cheap not so funny cracks at the whole boys in dresses thing. I'm surprised you never caught the hints of pain that caused me."
Lynne winced.
"So... yeah, I started to doubt you and me could make a go or even be friends once you knew." She drained her glass and topped it up and Lynne's as she nodded and held it out.
Lynne sat back with a big sigh and looked at Steph who was trying to mentally juggle something emotional by the look of near tears on her face, "Go on hon, I'm not the same person in some ways I was then. Please..."
Steph took a breath and relaxed a little."Well the weekend before that Pub outing as you might recall I'd gone up to visit the folks. We'd done the dinner thing and were chatting about stuff when I told them about me. Sort of like walking into a bottle shop cold room on a hot Summers day, instant chill. Mum just sort of looked at me for a couple of minutes with these bruised eyes and then got up and walked out of the room. Dad sat not saying a word just looking at me and finally said, 'I think you'd best leave', so I packed my bag and walked to the train station and sat there for two hours waiting and trying not to cry. "
"Oh shit hon, I'm sorry. That..."
Steph waved her wait and continued, tears evident on her face as Lynne felt some of her own begin to well prompted by her own lack of insight as much as shared pain.
"Wednesday I got a call to meet them for lunch down in Glebe where we'd hooked up a few times in the past. Slightly strained and they pretty much threatened me with excommunication or the family equivalent if I didn't sort myself out and forget this stupidity. We got some pointed looks from the waiters as the conversation got a little heated here and there." Her lips twisted into a not quite smile at that memory.
With another sigh she straightened and continued. "I told them I couldn't just forget or stop and that I'd begun hormones and was seeing a shrink for the necessary eval, though that was untrue. A wish and a desire, but... They left with my mum crying and sending a 'how could you do this to me' look my way and my dad steaming at this idiot boy they had somehow raised." The tears were flowing now and Lynne wondered if they'd come around later on, looking at Steph it seemed they hadn't.
Shit that must have been tough.
"Anyway, you may have noted in passing on the news that night that the little bridge over the railway line there at Wentworth Falls... a fatal accident as a passenger car with two people in it and a small truck with just a driver had collided and gone down the bank onto the tracks blocking the line for twelve hours and killing all three. Traffic across the mountains disrupted through the night."
Lynne's eyes opened wide in shock as it registered what Steph had just said, "Oh Christ, you mean your parents...? " The gap as she looked at Steph across that coffee table was wider than Sydney Harbour and right then there was no fucking bridge.
"Yes. If you remember that week I was a bit distracted and distant and at one point almost suicidal, though I kept it all hidden for the most part… I blamed myself. Upshot I got a letter from the solicitor that handles... sorry, handled, Dad's stuff and I was left everything and needed to sort out a few things. Anyway I was a fucking mess so I bailed on everything here, and moved up to the house and just stayed there for two years as I gradually became Stephanie, Only took the train into the city to visit my Endo..."
There was a quizzical look on Lynne's face that prompted an expansion.
"Endocrinologist, a lovely old Doctor that prescribed the hormones and made sure my liver and so on was okay as things progressed. You wanna talk about personal exams, well… Psych as well, sort of mandatory, a much younger guy, initially every couple of weeks then every couple of months and after a while a time or two a year. Still see him if I get a bit messy, but not very often.
"Eventually I moved back down to the city and started to live again, this time as me. Sold the house and the few shares and invested that with enough aside to get myself sorted…Private Hospital in Concord in May '96 if you're interested, only one guy in Sydney does the op. And well that's the basics I guess. Fifteen years later almost, here we are." She sniffed and shrugged, drained her glass and waited, looking Lynne's way.
"Oh Steph I'm sorry. I had no idea about your parents; and I'm a little ashamed I never picked up on your... um, what... duality I guess. I was a bit narrow in some ways back then but I wish you'd told me. I might have surprised you. Still I can see why you doubted and all that... the rejection and then their sudden death and the guilt and pain... Shit hon I don't blame you, I really don't. I honestly don't know how I’d have coped if it had been me."
The conversation shifted then as Steph with some prompting told tales of electrolysis,
"Oh yes it's such a joy to get little needles stuck into your face and um… elsewhere with electric currents zapping the hairs. Just a wee bit er... uncomfortable, especially in certain places."
Various humiliations, small and large and black humour-tinged encounters and a few little anecdotes that were damn funny, if you looked at them the right way.
"There was this one women, little shop in Double Bay, she literally pushed me out the door and closed it against my back as I sat on the step a little dazed and then laughed. She stood there glaring at me through the glass which made me laugh all the more." Steph shook her head slightly at the memory and grinned at Lynne and wincing a little. "Hey it was better than crying and it got right up her nose."
Then the job she currently held and had for six years. Course co-ordinator and general dogsbody with a small private Sound Engineering college. An old Muso mate had literally bumped into her and after a few questioning looks as they dusted themselves off asked if he knew her. Initially stunned and then accepting as Steph told him. Actually his initial response was a bewildered, 'well fuck me', to which she'd wryly responded, 'Um, no thanks'. He'd almost fallen over again laughing at that. So some sunshine amidst the clouds it seemed.
"Geoff, that's the old Muso mate, was setting up after buying out the guy that had built the studio and he'd just got the accreditation with the Education Dept granted after jumping through assorted bureaucratic hoops but was struggling with the office side. He had the teachers organised and while I didn't have the current knowledge, in that area anyway, he knew I was good at details and methodical. So I could help here and there with the studio stuff and could sort the office and paperwork, records and the like, so... serendipity. Hey I like my job." She grinned.
Lynne couldn't help but smile. It's good to see you smile like that Steph. Maybe I can help with the clouds.
Steph told a few tales of school and the students, how earnest and... serious. Some bloody talented and focused and some absolutely useless with most in the middle sort of working on who they were as much as a career path.
Lynne looked across at Steph and realised they were both slightly drunk and their speech was getting that deliberate correctness that prefaced slurring if they kept going. She tried to process the whole tale and imagine some of the gaps and the fears and pain that must have been there now and then. Happiness too. She had a few small snippets but really wanted the whole story and that would most surely take time.
Lynne smirked and coughed a small laugh, "We're both pissed you know. So what else huh. I mean you look a little different." Laughed again at that most obvious of statements, well she did and she didn't and snorted as Steph looked at her with a crooked smile. "Hey come on I mean apart from the big one, what else did you have done?"
Steph just brushed her nose and throat.
"Ah nose. Yeah now you mention it, it is a little trimmer. Throat? What the voice? I mean you sound like you could do the news at seven on Channel 2 each night. Polished lady voice without being snooty. Hell you sound more 'lady' than I do and I had lessons."
"No, not the voice, I did that with a bit of work over a few months, some hints off a website and yes copying a few newsreaders for tone and inflexion. Just practice." She shrugged slightly.
"Well you sound great, husky and a little sexy, with polish. So, umm... oh right, Adam's apple huh."
Steph simply nodded.
Lynne grinned widely and did her best to put on an innocent yet curious expression, but there was a gently wicked glint in her eyes. "Hmm, nearly fourteen years with girl bits eh. So who was the first and how was it?"
Steph snorted and almost choked on a mouthful of wine.
After a moment or two Lynne was having trouble holding the innocent expression against laughter.
Stalling Steph reached for the bottle and it was empty. "Damn well I still have the cooking wine in the fridge." She stood slightly unsteadily and headed to the kitchen returning a moment later waving a cardboard box. "This isn't bad actually, Chateau cardboard, two litres of the finest Aussie Pinot Grigio, does the same job anyway." She squirted a couple of glasses from the little tap and sat the box on the table.
"Cask wine!" Lynne exclaimed in mock horror to lighten the moment. She grinned and slurped loudly, smacking her lips.
Steph shook her head and smiled that half smile again.
"Sex huh. You want to know if I was keen to try the new gear? Hmm, curious I guess once it was possible. But I never was one for a quick fuck, especially as I'd be the fuckee, well if I went guy… and I guess maybe also if it was girl, depending. I was bloody nervous about the whole idea though. Took me a few years to work up the nerve or find someone willing." She smirked a little and shrugged.
"Well actually I wasn't really looking and then I met this woman that was keen to try a fling with an ex-guy. She was nice enough and honestly I thought, well okay, so after we'd done the getting to know each other thing we did the sex thing and yes it was nice enough and we did it several different ways. Use your imagination… and after a couple of months she decided that she really preferred 'real' girls and kissed me goodbye. Year or two later there was a guy; nice, reasonably gentleman like, did that getting to know you thing again and then we fucked like bunnies for about twelve hours and I never saw him again. That's it, my girl sex life. Pretty wild huh?"
"Girls and guys eh. So you're bi? I think I'm not surprised and I don't know what I expected you to say, but um... how does it compare?"
"It's different." Steph paused and took a sip as Lynne did likewise. "See as a guy there's no way I could with a guy, just couldn't. Wasn't all that keen on women either, except maybe you." She shrugged and sipped and almost smiled as Lynne blushed. "As a girl I'm free'er to look at things and see who people are and it doesn't matter so much guy or girl it's the person and if they can accept me.... Better? Well to me it's better this way because it's more right for me. I'm a woman so it's better as a woman, that's all I've got. Crap I need to pee."
Lynne followed her with her eyes as she headed out past the kitchen and out of sight. Turning to look at 'Judith' she smiled a little crookedly and realised that somewhere over the last hour or two the TV signal had sharpened, that jet had landed. There was just Steph and though Steve was still there a little he was background. Her smile widened and she blushed. Damn girl what are you thinking.
A minute or two later a flush sounded and Steph reappeared. "Tell you one thing peeing as a guy is less hassle."
For some reason that caused Lynne to crack up and she slid off the lounge on to the floor with tears rolling down her face. She stumbled still laughing to the laundry bathroom and used the loo... coming back a minute later wiping her face and coughing small hiccups of laughter still. She walked not completely steadily across to where Steph sat, leant down and kissed her softly on the lips. "Been wanting to do that for hours."
A small, just slightly wicked smile crossed Lynne's face as she watched the surprise and the blush spread across Steph's features. Sliding into the seat to her left Lynne reached with her left hand to cup Steph's right cheek and gently turn her face to her own as she leant in. Bringing her right hand up she cupped the other side of Steph's face and brushed her thumbs across under the eyes to the cheekbones and holding there softly, leant in watching Steph's eyes closely for any hint of a no. Seeing none she closed the gap and kissed her, at first gently and softly then with more force and pent up passion.
Sliding her hands back into Steph's hair she pushed forward and down to the bared throat and heard a sound somewhere between a sigh and a whimper, felt it with her lips. As Lynne kissed down and across her neck and slid her hands down to cup Steph's breasts through the blouse she felt a tension beneath her as Steph tightened up and then with a slow exhale let it go.
Throwing her left leg over Lynne straddled the seated woman, kneeling on the couch and pressed her palms against the soft yet thick fabric and felt the nipples rise as she rubbed softly. Licking and kissing to the up tilted chin she reached Steph's lips and this time worked the kiss longer and harder and deeper and both of them were panting slightly a few minutes later as they broke. Steph's eyes opened with a slightly glazed look. Lynne smiled at that and knew her own baby blues were glittering with lust and she thought, imagined(?), a pinch of love.
Smiling a dark and not quite full smile Lynne muttered in a throaty voice, "Come on." She stood and took Steph's hands, tugging her ever so slightly as an inducement to stand and follow where she led.
Steph looked closely at Lynne for several seconds as her focus returned and then she stood and followed up the stairs. A two person daisy chain.
Lynne led the way into the room, grabbing the bedspread and whipping it down off the end to lie slightly crumpled at the foot as she pulled Steph close, kissed her again and began to unbutton the thick cotton blouse. Grinning and coughing a small laugh as she exposed the lovely pale lavender lace under-wire bra cupping small yet full and firm breasts. Sliding her hands inside the blouse and around Steph's back she hugged her close and kissed her again as their bodies pressed tight.
Lynne's hands slid back around the warm body she held and cupped the exposed lace as her thumb nails circled and pressed gently at the pointy tips. Ran them up and back to slide the blouse off the strong yet not too muscular shoulders and down to drop to the floor behind as she tugged past the wrists as the buttons caught.
Her nails dragged slowly up Steph's spine and felt the shivers as she dipped a little and kissed between the mounds. Flipped the hooks and slowly slid the bra down the slender arms, dropping it to the side as Steph stood still, panting slightly with a dreamy look on her face, half-closed eyes glittering.
Lynne pushed backwards as they stayed locked together and as Steph's knees hit the edge of the bed she slumped down onto it while Lynne held her hands and stayed standing.
"Get rid of those boots and jeans huh while I catch up."
Lynne slowly stripped down herself as she watched Steph pull her boots and then stand to wiggle the jeans off finishing in a nice lavender hipster panty that matched the bra. She kept her eyes focused on Steph's face as she sat again and watched as her own slow strip progressed. Standing naked Lynne was just out of reach. Smiling widely as Steph made no move and waited for her.
With a mildly predatory look she steeped forward and was again straddling Steph, kissed her hard while pushing back until she was flat with her legs trailing off the bed. She kissed slowly and softly over Stephs face and gradually slid down to nibble gently on alternate nubs for several minutes raising small gasps and quiet moans. Slowly slid down kissing and sucking as she went to catch the waistband of the lavender lace with her teeth then hooking her thumbs slid them down and off, noting in passing, Simone Perele, nice.
Grinning widely she gently pressed Steph's knees wider and softly scraped her fingernails up the inner thighs and ran them through the small tuft of hair, slightly damp and matted.
Steph shivered and groaned softly.
Now 'that' girl is a different view to last time you were here, not very wet either yet she seems excited enough.
Hesitating for just a second Lynne took a breath and leant in to slide her tongue up the slightly sweaty and tangy slit, pushing and wriggling to judge the response. Feeling a pair of hands slide into her hair and tangle themselves gently she smiled to herself and continued.
A couple of hours later, both thoroughly acquainted or re-acquainted with each other's bodies they slept after pulling up the bedspread to cover themselves, it was still cool.
Lynne raised herself on one elbow to look at Steph sleeping beside her, mouth slightly open and breathing softly, totally at peace it seemed. She smiled and slid off the bed to gingerly feel her way to the bathroom. On her return she stood for a moment in the doorway shivering and just took in the scene the vague light from the street gave.
Well damn girl, that was nice. Sure as hell not what you planned... or expected... but that view right there could keep you warm for days. Who knew huh?
Smiling widely she slipped back into bed and smirked as Steph mumbled in her sleep at the touch of cold feet as Lynne pressed in behind her to spoon the warm body.
She woke some hours later to find the bed empty, stretched happily and grabbed the robe that had been dropped across the foot of the bed, slipped it on and headed downstairs. Steph was sitting in the lounge, gazing into space and sipping coffee, which smelt wonderful.
"Morning Steph, you okay?"
"Hi Lynne," she responded softly, turning to face her.
She looks almost afraid again. Lynne stopped and waited.
"I'm okay, just wondering about last night and what it meant. It was nice but you were never into girls, so I guess I'm wondering what and why and all that stuff. You can laugh now, I..." Steph sighed and shrugged looking a little sad.
Ah, so that's the problem. She thinks it was a curiosity session rather than something more and deeper. "Steph, Steph, Steph. No, I never was into girls though I was into you. You are still you and maybe nicer and better than you were. Plus I'm a bit more grown up, so no way was that just curiosity or a one off unless you want nothing more. That would upset me." She paused and took a breath and gathered her thoughts. "Yeah okay I had a silly dream come fantasy worked out and I got the twisty version of it. But when I kissed you that first time last night I knew I still loved you and I felt maybe you still loved me. So lets see what happens huh. I really want to know you again, the real you this time eh?"
Smiling Steph stood and stepped across to Lynne and kissed her softly, "Coffee?"
With her own small smile growing on her face she nodded and gave a soft return peck.
Let's see eh. It's bloody weird but it could just be Lynnette ya mad bitch.
With her smile wide and open and light dancing in her eyes she looked into Steph's welling pools and laughed aloud.
"Coffee would be lovely thanks hon, it smells delicious." Who knew huh?
Back at work Monday was the usual scramble of catch up that results after time off. Lynne smiled her way through the calls and meetings, took a sandwich at her desk and sat looking out the window.
Well girl wasn't exactly a holiday, but it did ease all sorts. She chuckled softly and flashed on a bunch of little memories. It wasn't really possible to catch up on twenty years in a few days, but they'd given it a good shot. Her smile widened and she spun slowly in her chair and pulled her shoulder bag close to grab that envelope.
Bout time you actually read this, though it's likely all old news now.
One and two thirds spaced A4 pages with a very basic outline of a life. Her eyes flowed down through the typed words and grunted softly at the name change only a few months after the disappearance. A bare bones history, current address, currently employed, da da da…
She smiled again and laughed aloud at a hand written comment at the end.
~~ Well there it is Lynne. All in all a pretty average inner suburban Jane,
well if you ignore the former Joe bit.
Decent but ordinary
hope that's what you need
Paul ~~
She whispered with a smile in her eyes and voice. "Ordinary? Oh I don't know Paul, not all that ordinary from where I sit." Sure put a twist in my life. Ordinary? Yes and no, but aren't we all.
She swivelled again and gazed smiling out the window for a minute until the phone rang. Back to the coal mine. "Lynne Wilkins…" a smile evident in her voice.
Thanks to Angela Rasch, for looking at what is there or might be and sometimes pointing out the obvious… not an easy task, but you do it well. Your generosity is much appreciated.
No resemblance to reality should be inferred or expected.
Copyright KLS 2009.
By Kristina.L.S.
He straightened and looked about, vaguely wondering just how long he'd been sitting there. Judging by the stiffness and the dents his elbows had left above his knees, quite some time. His eyes wandered to the little coloured box sitting beside him all bright and shiny with fancy ribbons and everything and the tears started to flow and the hole in his life was as big as the open cut at Kalgoorlie.
Fifteen years he'd spent living in dusty outback huts and tents, driving beat up utes to places not marked on maps looking for the signs. Swearing at the latest advances in telecommunications that supposedly made contact clear and simple and yes there is a signal there... my arse. Testing and writing evaluations, then moving on to the next site. Then he'd been bumped to management and had to wear a bloody shirt and tie. Shirt was okay but a fuckin' tie? The most useless piece of clothing ever thought of and guaranteed to make you uncomfortable.
The price of success she'd smile at him and tell him he looked so handsome and he'd melt and would wear a bloody lead one with a silly pattern on it if she asked.
Jenny. He was suddenly on a deep mine cage lift and his stomach lurched at plummeting gravity. Or lack of it maybe... maybe he'd just float away.
One year, the anniversary and if he still felt uncomfortable, a fake in city clothes, the posh office with views to the harbour, she thrived. No dust and the chance to wear some nice clothes and have a circle of friends, normal hours. Every morning she'd adjust his tie and smile and give a small little kiss to send him on his way as she finished up to head off herself. Now that... that was no fake and his belly lurched again. More gold in a simple touch than came out of that bloody big hole in the ground, ever.
He looked about once more this time seeing his surrounds. The Hospital behind him, the one way street in front and the little park opposite with the fenced off bandstand come café. Idly wondered how long it had been closed off. He watched almost dream like as a girl, tall and obviously at the tag end of a long night out stumbled across the park, across the street toward him and down the driveway to his right, the emergency entrance. Steady drips of blood from assorted cuts, her lip and above her eye most obvious and he figured other injuries not readily visible. They pulled at him in a simple she needs help way, but he just watched and he wasn't at all sure she'd even seen him. She did shudder and flinch at a drunken shout that followed her across the park as she hit the road... 'fuckin' pooftah bitch'..., which didn't make much sense but...
Still he didn't move, didn't offer to help, he wasn't sure he belonged a part of the human race any more.
Hell why don't you just walk away, leave the little box here, maybe someone will take it. Then an image of a bomb squad robot wobbling up to put a rifle shot through it after someone called in a left package. Bloody modern paranoia, Christ what a world, but he sighed and sat and almost grinned at the absurd vision. Did they even have those robots here? He looked at the small box and felt the tears again and his eyes burned. Shit when did you last cry Stevo you big ugly bastard.
The day was done and everyone was heading home or out to wherever. He'd sent flowers that morning and they'd chatted on the mobiles after she'd got them and called to say thanks and how much she was looking forward...
His mind blanked for a moment and he noticed the girl had disappeared inside and he hoped she was okay. Another siren and lights ambulance turned into the entrance about fifty metres down on his right and he wondered what disaster and pain was inside and felt a little sad that he didn't really care.
She was looking forward to a lovely romantic evening with her Steven, her big quiet hero. He felt himself blush, how long ago was that? A lifetime... No, his watch told him it was seven hours. Her voice brushed his soul and caused a twitch as he stood there looking out the window and smiling at the ridiculousness of someone like her marrying a lump like him. Damn, such things didn't happen and yet it had. So they'd meet up downstairs she'd buzz him when she'd gotten into the city and parked at the station down the road and they'd walk down to Darling Harbour and have a wonderful seafood dinner looking at the bay and the lights and the people.
It was later than he'd expected when his phone rattled and buzzed as it moved about on his desk, he'd laughed at the silliness of it, almost like a kids toy. Saw 'Jen' on the display and pushed the slide... hey hon... But it wasn't her honeyed voice, it was a dull monotone man.
"Steven Walsh?... Mr Walsh, is your wife Jenny Walsh and does she drive a pale blue Volvo coupe?"
"What? Who is this?"
"Mr Walsh my name is Andrew Tontini, I'm a Sergeant with the Accident Investigation Unit, your wife..."
He'd heard what the man said, well he must have as a minute or two later once he could move he'd sprinted down stairs, though the lift was probably quicker yet he had to keep moving, if he stopped it would be real. It was a mistake, it had to be...
A taxi frantically hailed, he sat in the back and fingered his phone willing it to ring and her voice to be there. The trip through the city and up Oxford Street took forever, yet his watch crawled or ticked it's way around the dial and it was fifteen minutes and looped around to drop him right at the door, he'd tossed a fifty for a ten dollar fair and bolted.
He was amazed that the nurse behind the small window could make sense of what he said but she did and a few minutes later she escorted him to a door that swung open and a young Irish guy met him to rattle off… he didn't recall a word. He registered the boss man watching with his seen it all yet still caring eyes, hell every time hospitals got mentioned on the news they spoke to this guy, maybe he lived here.
There was blood and tubes and various machine noises and nurses both male and female in green scrubs checking and looking at things and two others with gowns tossed over suits hovering in the background like embarrassed ghouls as he shook his head and looked. Yes it was her, that lovely auburn tinted brown hair and the soft smooth cheek as his thumb traced her left eyebrow. His eyes flicked to the right side.
He couldn't see much at all. Bandages and the shape seemed wrong and he felt fear bite him hard. A uniformed cop hovered in the background and no one would meet his eyes.
The green clad women ghoul stepped forward and took his arm very gently and steered him to a chair across the room as the Irish kid stood and several nurses waited quietly pointedly looking not quite at him.
She spoke softly and steadily. The only one there seemingly with a purpose just this minute. A clipboard full of forms held at her side.
The Harbour Tunnel... But she never took the tunnel, hated it, preferred to see out, the sky and city and harbour off the bridge... but the traffic... and... she had. Two cars full of High School kids weaving and dodging had clipped and crashed, there were injuries but nothing serious. But she had been caught, bumped and spun into a tow truck.
The next half hour was a dull ache of words and explanations. She had signed on the organ donor register and he'd nodded, he'd known that, yet... If they turned things off she was gone, but others could benefit, she could help others to live and that was a great gift. Do you understand they had asked and he'd sat and cried and she had touched his hand with eyes showing understanding but a desire to do what Jenny had wanted, to do her job. He'd sighed so deep and long it seemed unnatural, then nodded and she'd thanked him softly with a squeeze and then a flurry of movement as he was directed to a small room and given the clipboard and pen and she came back some minutes later minus the gown. The next... block of time, he had no reference to say how long... he filled out and signed and numbly pondered scenes from CSI or Silent Witness.
She, Doctor Helen... something Greek he thought but couldn't remember but he had her card in his shirt pocket, had brought him a coffee and a sandwich and sat quietly as he signed his wifes pieces away. Did it help that others might see or breathe or have a heart that beat regularly or a liver that worked? No, it didn't, but they had in that responsible knowing it would never matter type way, talked about it. And so it goes... she goes, she's gone... in pieces, as part of others soon if not already. Did that mean she lived on? Not to him it didn't. But what benefit to shove in the ground or burn. Did the shell matter once the life had gone? The soul maybe if you believed in that. The energy that was, dispersed like steam from a boiled kettle, back into the air, droplets in an ocean on a planet a microbe in the universe. Did it matter at all? Humanity or something bigger, something beyond? Who the hell knows?
Hours... five he thought later he had walked out and sat on the bench and all that time he had held onto the little box. Why had he grabbed that as he raced for the stairs? A gift box of chocolate liqueur truffles. Something to go with the champagne after dinner, her favourite guilty treat. He pictured as she gently lipped and then with a twinkle in her eye bit slowly into the dark balls and moaned softly as the luscious filling flowed out and trickled across her tongue. A sensual and warm memory that was all he had left. God how can you think of sex just now you heartless bastard and his arousal shrivelled as icy self-disgust made him groan aloud. He shuffled and stood realising he was numb and glancing at his watch realised another four hours had passed. A stumbled step or two to see if his legs worked...
"Hey. Excuse me, are you okay, you left..."
It was her, the girl he'd seen earlier. Bruises now showing and bandages on wrist and calf a couple of little butterfly patches on eyebrow and cheek. Brownish stains of antiseptic on puffy lips and grazed jaw. She shuffled nervously as he gazed at her silently and took in the adams apple and slightly gangly build. Huh.
"Sorry, my... um, I'm not quite with it at the moment. Would you like them, I don't think I'll ever eat one again."
She looked at him sadly, compassion evident even though he'd ignored her earlier and that made him stand straighter and even smile slightly.
"I've had a bad night or... well I've lost... ah I dunno. But then I guess you've had better too."
She stepped forward with a sad look in her eyes and took his hand. "Yes I know. I was about to leave when I saw you there and I went back in and told the duty nurse that you'd been sitting there when I came in and that was hours ago. She came out and looked at you and sighed and told me what happened. Muttered that she hoped the psyches had cleared you to leave alone."
"Hey I'm sorry I ignored you earlier. I... well I wasn't quite here or I'd have helped, at least to get you inside. "
"I understand, really it's okay. But... um I need to walk back home as my bag disappeared last night and I can't get a cab. If you don't mind a slow walk I'd really appreciate the company."
He looked this girl up and down and saw the slight fear and the tensing as she expected him to say no. Maybe worse and he sighed at this small hurt. The sun was tickling the sky in the distance and he felt... what a need to feel and breathe and even a small thing as easing the fear of a stranger might help. Jenny would smile and nod he knew.
"Well my bums numb and I can barely walk but I need to so I'd be happy to. Let me buy you breakfast huh, I missed dinner. Probably better than getting drunk for three days. Sorry that was... "
"That's okay I know what you meant. Really, you'd buy me breakfast? Um sure I'd love that but are you sure I mean you must be hurting and I'm well..."
"You're a person that's hurt and a little scared and a small gesture from me will help us both and I'd appreciate the company. Steve, Steve Walsh, nice to meet you." He held out his hand and she took it with a shy smile and shook it gently.
"Nice to meet you Steve. I'm Kate, Katie Simmons, thanks I'd love to share brekky with you. Just nothing acid huh." She licked her lip wincing slightly and he smiled softly at the simple gesture. A shrug and move on to all the crap that might happen or had and would and you couldn't know or do anything about it. Except live.
He leant forward to pick up the box and handed it to her. "Maybe wait a day or so huh. The alcohol in those might sting just now."
"Yeah, thanks. What was her name, your wife? I can't imagine... but I can see what you feel for her and she must have been something to deserve that. I'll say a little prayer for her and for you. Good people."
He felt tears again and sighed and shook his head gently at her distress to see what her words had caused.
"Jenny and she'd smile at this scene. Much better person than me, so I have to try harder. Okay Katie let's get breakfast."
He held out his hand and she gingerly took it with her right, clutching the gift box in her left and they limped across the road toward the path across the park and the city beyond. Birds could be heard as dawn began to creep across the sky after the brief flirtation earlier.
And so it goes... life is what we have. Small is big and simple is not, the sun still rises even when we maybe briefly wish it wouldn't. Even a small connection can make that a good thing. And so it goes...
This one is a little more autobiographical than most. But don't take it as truth. If there is such a thing. Hey, everyone has 'history'.
Two people form a relationship that takes a few turns from where either of them expected things to go. No real kinkiness, sex or violence. A bit of sorrow and some shared emotion.
This one is a little more autobiographical than most. But don't take it as truth. If there is such a thing. Hey, everyone has 'history'.
Two people form a relationship that takes a few turns from where either of them expected things to go. No real kinkiness, sex or violence. A bit of sorrow and some shared emotion.
A few expressions and phrases may be unfamiliar to some. Where I thought appropriate I have marked with an asterisk and a meaning is placed at the end.
This is Part 1 of 2. Part 2 will follow shortly.
This is a work of adult fiction. No resemblance to reality should be inferred or expected.
Copyright KLS 2006.
Blues for C.
Part - 1 of 2
By Kristina.L.S.
1.
Jessica crossed the room at the Bayswater* and sidled up to Blue. As he spotted her his face lit up with a huge grin that transformed a slightly ugly and vicious looking face into a grandpa teddy bear.
He was in his mid forties. About 5' 10" and built like a tank. Blue was a moniker* that had been with him for over twenty years, when one of his old biker mates through a haze of dope, decided that he looked like a beat up version of Bluebeard the pirate on steroids. That is if Bluebeard had been an old Triumph riding, leather and denim wearing, antisocial animal. He had been a member of the tribe and was possibly still on watch lists in several states as an enforcer for the C---------'s. But when one of his rivals accidentally killed a young girl in a very public shootout in a hotel beer garden he had taken stock. Dumped his colours and set out to find work as a roadie.
Ten years later Nico Kokinos, a name almost no one used, ran a sound and lighting company and organised touring rigs, transport and personnel for anyone wanting to tour the country or just around Sydney and Melbourne. When not riding the office desk he mixed for local bands, supplied and set-up PA's and basic lighting. Tonight he was mixing for a blues based band that had pretensions of greatness.
He grabbed Jessica around the waist with one arm and lifted her off her feet as though she weighed nothing. With a soft yet booming voice "Hey there darlin'. You look as gorgeous as ever. Give old Blue a kiss and make my day."
With a laugh she grabbed his beard in both hands and kissed him softly on the lips, " So how's my favourite mean old biker dude? Just as ugly as ever. You can put me down now."
"Who you callin' ugly bitch?" His laugh boomed out and with a gentle smack to her behind dropped her back to the floor. They chatted amiably for several minutes as he adjusted and checked things. Then slipping a Robben Ford CD into the deck adjusted the volume to manageable level that let everyone know the band would be on soon but didn't drown conversation. That was the bands job.
She listened for a minute and nodded. "Nice, haven't heard this one."
"Yeah, pretty good. Been out a year or so. Class playing. Give these wankers* something to aspire to."
"Are they that bad?"
"Nah. Not really. If they could get over themselves they'd be pretty good. Just think they're the next INXS or something. Not a chance, short of some serious attitude adjustment. Anyway, the reason I rang you. When you asked about a guitar player to do some duo work with I thought of this band. I've done about two-dozen shows with them over the last 6 months. As I said, they're not too bad, just... anyway...
About 2 months ago their second guitarist OD'd and Chris got the gig. Now this kid is a class player and he can do this shit standing on his head. But he doesn't quite fit the image so I figure he'll walk shortly. In fact I think he's going up to Tamworth for the Country Festival* in 2 weeks. So they're a little pissed off with him. They're all probably out the back lane sucking joints while that's Chris over there", pointing across the room with his chin.
Her gaze followed the line across the room to a corner table where a slender figure, that at first glance she took to be a woman, was sitting legs crossed and sipping a glass of red wine. Black suede jacket, dark red shirt and black jeans and boots. RM's*, she made a bet with herself.
As she watched a young guy walked up to him and nervously started talking. Chris put his glass down, cocked his head slightly to the side as he listened and nodding tried to convey something with hand gestures. She got a good look at his face as he listened and responded to the younger man. Long blondish, reddish, light brown hair in a loose ponytail, almost delicate features and she thought, pale blue eyes. With a gesture he lead the way to the stage setup, handed the guy his electric, picked up the acoustic and sat on the edge of the stage. Then proceeded to demonstrate some technique on his guitar and pointed out the fingering on the other as the sudden student tried to follow. He did this 3 or 4 times till nodding the 'student' said, "Hey, that's really cool, thanks man." With a soft smile Chris took his two guitars and placing them on their respective stands, returned to his table.
"Well... whadaya know. A nice guy and if you can be trusted a good player to boot. If he's interested he'd be perfect."
"Yeah. Doesn't quite fit the Jack swilling, groupie fucking, muso* image does he. They'll be on in about 10. Toward the end of the first set Chris steps up front for a couple of songs. Wait and see what you reckon. Then have a natter* during the break."
"Is he gay? Not that I'm fussed, just wondering." She shrugged slightly in apology at the question.
"Wouldn't have the foggiest darlin'. He might be. I don't give a rats one way or the other. As you said he's a nice guy. And more to the point for you, he can play."
They reminisced for another ten minutes, Jessica keeping half an eye on Chris as he finished his glass and headed to the stage. He picked up an old Telecaster and switching on his amp ran through a few phrases. He set it down after satisfying himself with the tuning and sound and picked up the acoustic, a small body cutaway. He strummed a couple of chords, twiddled a pedal on the floor and then proceeded to run through an intricate finger-picking piece that sounded vaguely Irish.
After about five minutes the rest of the band wandered in, beer cans in hand and trailing smoke. Another few minutes to set up and they launched into a full tilt boogie number that she didn't recognise. They were pretty tight she decided even if the posturing of the lead guitarist and bass player/singer was a bit aggravating.
She concentrated on Chris as he played the second guitar role. He was concise and played with a subtle flair that didn't overpower the others but stood out if you were listening, as she was. After a couple more songs that she thought were probably originals they blasted into the old Ted Nugent song 'Stranglehold'. Great song if you were a misogynist cave man. Well, ignoring old Ted's philosophy it was still a great song and the band pulled it off really well. Hell, compared to some of the rappers around now old Ted was a 'snag'.
Another two originals followed by a bunch of old and more recent covers, mostly Seventies or Eighties stuff and generally pretty well done, the bass player announced, "our second guitarist Chris Cameron is gonna' step up front for a couple". With a brass slide on his left ring finger Chris eased into a swampy blues song that she thought she should recognise, but didn't. His voice was sweet and smooth, a little like Mick Hucknell she thought. 'Nice tune I'll have to ask who it is'. The second was an old Cold Chisel song 'Bow River' and both he and the band did it justice. As the applause started to die the rest of the band left the stage and it was just Chris and his Telecaster.
He wove a beautiful blues solo and gradually inserting chords, she recognised a somewhat different, but great version of Billy Joel's 'New York State of Mind'. She looked around the crowd and could see the younger guys watching his every finger movement, a few single girls and couples slow dancing and most of the rest just standing and watching, the tables temporarily empty. He had the 150 odd people spellbound. Applause and whistles greeted the last fading note.
"Thanks, the band will be back in 30. Get yourselves a drink and we'll be back." He wound his way through the crowd stopping occasionally in response to a word or pat on the back. After about 5 minutes he made it to the bar and got a tall glass of something then back to the corner table, which had a reserved sign and a road case sitting on it.
"Can I get you a drink Nic, I think I need to have a chat with your boy?"
"Yeah I thought you might. Good isn't he? Go on, I'm fine." He pointed down to near his feet where a plastic bucket full of ice held several long neck bottles. With a nod she headed to the bar and after a few minutes got a glass of NZ Sauvignon Blanc then headed over to the corner. As she got closer she noted idly that he sat quiet and alone with an almost graceful posture, and she thought, with his eyes closed.
"Hi. Mind if I join you for a moment?" She got her first good look at his face as he turned toward her. Slightly girlish and she was right, blue eyes, only darker than she'd first thought with little gold flecks here and there. What struck her then was that eyes his colour often looked cold but these were warm and very sad. She sucked in her breath slightly and wondered what pain he'd seen.
As he looked at her it took a second, his eye's widened slightly and with a small smile gestured her to sit.
"Jessica Wilson. Be my guest, it's a pleasure to meet you. I liked your last album. Better than the second one." He spoke softly and precisely, sounding more English than the usual Aussie drawl, but not at all pretentious. She was surprised to find that she was starting to like this guy more than usual, wanted to be his friend.
She laughed at his blunt comment, "Well I'm glad you liked that, it's my favourite so far." She grimaced slightly, " The second one was taken over by the producer. Got too caught up in his studio tricks and buried the music a little. Ah well, what's done is done. What did you think of the first one, too raw?"
"No, not really. It was a little rough around the edges, but that's not necessarily a bad thing. For your first time in a studio it was pretty good. Caught the emotion and power of your voice. Also it has one of my favourite songs of yours 'Missing the Feeling'. Any album that has a song that good on it deserves to do some business. Shame the second didn't really follow through. But I reckon you still did okay. And the third really put you back in the spotlight. Great songs, well produced, tight band..." With a slight shrug he stopped talking and took a sip of his drink.
"Thanks, I really like that song myself. Speaking of which, what was that first song you did? I feel like I should know it, but I'm pretty sure I don't. Really nice feel, the slide work was terrific." He almost blushed at that she thought. Not too many guitarists she'd ever met would blush at anything. And there were a few things that she'd seen on the road that had made her more than blush.
With a soft crooked smile he looked thoughtful for a moment, "One of my all time favourite songs. One of the first I taught myself. It's an old 'Little Feat' thing that no ones ever heard of called 'Perfect Imperfection'. It's on the last album they did before Lowell George died." He gazed into the distance for a second then returned his eyes to her. She was pleased that they went to her face rather than elsewhere as guys often did.
"Can I get you another wine? I need another mineral water. It gets a bit dry up there as I'm sure you know." He half stood with a gentle question in his eyes.
"Yes. Thank you. It's the Marlborough* Sauv' Blanc." She watched as he made his way toward the bar the red shirt easy to track. His walk was graceful and fluid, almost feminine. He probably is gay she mused. But she still wanted to be his friend and hoped he would agree to play with her. 'Maybe it was relationships that caused the pain in his eyes. People could be cruel to someone a little off the norm'.
Her view was suddenly blocked by a guy standing very close to the table. Somewhat drunk, he tried the worst pick up line she had ever heard. She actually laughed, which unfortunately got him very angry, very quickly. He grabbed her arm and dragged her to her feet knocking over the chair she had been sitting on. The table tilted and her glass slid to floor, shattering.
"Fuckin' stuck up bitch, give us a kiss", planting a slobbery one in the general vicinity of her mouth. She caught a glimpse of Nic heading her way from the mixing desk with a murderous expression on his face. This could get very nasty she realised. Then she was aware of the red shirt beside her and the faint clunk of a glass being put down a little hard.
"Let the lady go friend or you will regret it."
He spoke quietly but with authority. The drunks eyes flared for a second and he threw his bottle on the floor sending foam spraying madly, released her and turned to Chris with a sneer on his face. Chris just stepped in and grabbed his right hand, twisted in and up to the guys armpit then pressed forward. The drunks eyes flared again, this time in pain, as he dropped to his knees. Two bouncers grabbed him and dragged him toward the door just before Nic got there.
"Damn kid, nice move. Saved the pricks life. I was gonna tear him a new arsehole and shove that beer bottle up it. You ok Jess?"
She was a little shaken but nodded, "Yes, thanks Nic. Chris here stopped things getting out of hand. I shouldn't have laughed at him. But... shit. That was the worst pick up line I have ever heard... and he was much drunker than I thought."
She shook her head slowly and laughed. "Thanks guys, I thought things were going to get nasty for a minute there. You have to watch your temper Blue. If you'd hurt him the cops would be all over you. Not worth it."
She turned back to Chris intending to kiss him and thank him for saving her. But as she leant forward the movement changed from a light hug to a joint fingertip clasp with both hands and a gentle buss on the cheek, almost an air kiss. A pretension she couldn't stand. Blushing confusedly she mumbled a thank you and tried to figure out what she had just done and why.
Nic leant forward and grabbed the chair by the leg, flipped it upright and placed it next to the table, "Leave you guys to it. Talk to ya later Jess. Chris. Better get back before anything not nailed down disappears."
A barman appeared, swept up the broken glass, mopped up the spilt wine and beer and offered them both a refill, which he headed off to get once he knew what they were drinking, taking Chris' empty with him. He returned a few minutes later with the wine and mineral water, placed them and nodding headed back to the bar as they both said 'thanks'.
2.
They sat and looked at one another, Chris raised his glass saying, "well that was exciting" and they both laughed. The mood lightened and drinks were sipped as each quietly sized up the other.
"So how do you know Nic? It looks like you've known each other a while. He's a good guy, despite the hard-arse image he portrays. I only met him a few months back on another gig. It was nice to see him doing this one too. He knows his business and helps the band he's working with. Even if he doesn't like them."
Jess tilted her head and tried to decide how much to tell. It wasn't her story really... but Chris seemed pretty non-judgmental.
"Well... it was when I was doing the early shows for the first album. What, six years ago. Fairly low key, 4 piece band and Nic doing the sound and setting up. A simple sound and lights deal. I was initially scared of him. You know... big, gruff, nasty looking. But he made a point of looking out for me." She shrugged and smiled at the memory.
"Anyway there I was. A green 19 year old kid trying to play grown up rock star and starting to get a little 'Diva' type bitchy when Nic just walked over, told me to, 'stuff the prima donna act up my arse and behave like a human being and maybe people would respect me'. Well naturally I was furious and wanted him fired, blah, blah, blah. He laughed in my face and started packing his gear. Two hours before a show with foreign agents and Company PR people in the room already. Um... needless to say I swallowed my pride and apologised."
She laughed out loud and almost choked on her wine as it ran out her nose. A minute and 2 napkins later she resumed the tale.
"Anyway, he just looked at me for a second, sniffed and kept rolling the multi-core*. Now by this stage I was almost in tears and figured he'd give in. When I asked why he was still packing, he stopped and slowly turned around, looked me in the eye and said, 'well Little Miss Priss. When you realise you were wrong and actually mean that apology, I might. Maybe, accept it and keep working, until then...' and with that he finished rolling that main cable and started on the stands and mics."
"So... I probably stood there, fuming, with my mouth open for about 5 minutes as he packed the stands in a case and dropped the mic cables into another. When I realised he was serious, I did start crying. At which point he came over and handed me a small pocket pack of tissues. 'Ahah' I think; he's given in. But...nooo. He just turned away and kept packing. I was stunned. Another minute or two and I started laughing and sat on his mixing stool. He glanced across and I mouthed, 'sorry'. He just nodded and started putting everything back, never mentioned it again. We've been friends ever since."
Chris was smiling and shaking his head slightly.
"Yeah I can see Nic doing that. I have a hard time seeing you as 'Bitch Diva' but I guess if you say so. Nice to see you got over it."
"Yeah well... when everyone tells you you're the latest and greatest and you're still a kid... well, it's easy enough to believe it all. Nice often goes out the window. Now that I'm all sorta growed up and sophisticated like, I can smile at the memory. I am very glad that Nic smacked my bottom, so to speak, bringing me back to reality. Old Blue is a lovely guy, despite his rather... um, intimidating exterior. Do you know anything about him? His history?"
"No, not much. I hear he rode with one of the big bike gangs and was a pretty wild guy. Then he turned away from the nasty stuff and got into the roadie biz. I'm not quite sure how to take a few of the wilder stories. I can see the biker thing... but the other stuff. The guy I've met is not that guy. Still... " He shrugged slightly.
Jess nodded and smiled.
"Oh he was a bad guy alright. Very nasty. But it was all 'in house' as he puts it. You know, gang to gang or other assorted lowlifes. He was number 4 in the 'C---------'s and the main enforcer. Beatings, the odd shooting, intimidation. Drug dealing... Anyway it was all people 'in the life' until the pub shootout in the early 90's when a girl died. He says that shook him up seeing that kid lying in a pool of blood while mums and dads, just regular people, screamed and ran or tried to protect each other. He can still run through it in his head. See her catch one in the chest and just flop backwards as her mother screams. He says he just stood and stretched his arms wide calling, '..c'mon ya fuckers shoot me, not some kid...'. Tears running down his face he stepped across to check her and the mother just attacked him. Tore skin and hair, punched kicked and gouged for a minute or two until she just slumped on top of her girl, sobbing. He didn't move, just took it and then realised he still had his beer glass in his hand but that he'd crushed it and had bits imbedded in the skin. An ambulance girl fixed him up then spat in his face as he was arrested with about ten mates and another dozen 'B------'s. A few from each side were held but as he hadn't been armed and no one, 'put a weapon in his hand', he walked... and as he says, kept right on walking. And here he is."
She shook herself slightly and blew out with a long slow, not quite whistle.
"When he told me the whole thing a few years back, as he'd seen it. Well it was like watching one of those old Peckinpah films in your head and I was shaking and crying when he finished. When he saw how shook up I was he apologised for dumping on me and just held me till I got it together. He looked so sad... No, he's not that guy anymore. I'd trust him with my life."
"Wow. Guess I better be nice to the guy huh. No wonder a few people tip toe around him." Chris grinned, then turned more serious.
"I suppose he'll see that girl, that scene, for the rest of his life and even though it wasn't him he'll feel the guilt as well. That's hard... but at least something good came from it... scared him straight, so to speak. Something good from something horrible. Nic is a nice, gentle guy, but I can see the potential for violence if he's pushed." He paused and shook his head ruefully.
" Bloody hell, I sound like a pompous reporter on a tabloid TV show." They both laughed as the sombre moment was diffused.
Jess and Chris both straightened and tried to shake off the spectre of the young girl lying in a widening pool of her own blood in a suburban Hotel beer garden on a pleasant Sunday afternoon. One minute, fun in the sun. The next, horror and death.
They sat for a minute each picturing the scene and feeling very similar echoes of sorrow and distant pain. It was Jessica that straightened first and saw the distant wet eyed look in Chris' eyes. She was again struck by the pain that sat just below the surface and was sorry she'd taken the conversation down this path.
"Yes, not a pleasant story. I'm sure Nic would tell you if you asked. He doesn't hide who he was. Might even tell you some of the whys. Anyway..." She took a breath and watched as Chris pulled back from wherever and focused on her again.
"The reason I came over to talk... I rang Nic a few days ago asking if he knew anyone that might want to do some duo stuff with me. Get some new songs together and do a small tour. Sort of two up unplugged as opposed to band. He suggested I come here tonight and then pointed me at you. After hearing you play and now meeting you I think it could work. We'd need to get together and run through some ideas I have, work out parts etc. Then..." She shrugged and looked him in the eye as a slight smile crossed his face.
"So... what do think? Want to give it a try?" She hoped he'd say yes. But not knowing his plans or any commitments he might have in the next few months she wasn't sure.
"That is the best offer I've had in ages. I'd love to try out and see what happens. I have a couple more shows with these guys then a few casual gigs I'm sorta committed to in Tamworth... after that, assuming it works out, I'm all yours. So, three weeks and I'm free for whatever you have in mind." He grinned and toasted her with the mineral water.
"Well there's no need to try out. I haven't approached anyone else. I have a good feeling about you. I like your playing and I think I like you. I reckon we'll work well together. You seem like a nice guy. Fairly mild ego for a guitar player too." She grinned widely and toasted him back.
"Besides, I have enough ego for both of us. I'm a bossy bitch, just ask anyone." That got them both laughing.
3.
They sat and chatted for another 15 minutes until it was time for the next set. She joined Nic and stood with him at the mixing console.
The band opened up with a Stevie Ray triple, 'Couldn't Stand the Weather, Cold Shot and Change It'. Chris played the rhythm part while the lead guy did the histrionics, overplaying and almost ruining the chunky blues feel. That and the singer come bass player trying to pull all the attention had her completely agreeing with Nic's assessment and understanding Chris' decision to leave. She sat on Nic's stool for the rest of the hour and half set then went to help Chris pack up and see if he'd go for a pizza or something and try and line up a 'get together' in a few weeks time.
She made an offer to grab whatever and then maybe have a bite or a drink while they chatted. Chris just grinned at her and without a word wrapped up an extension cord, two guitar leads, closed the lid on an old Boss resin pedal case and tossed his channel switch, the cord and leads into a small leather duffel. And then leant a collapsible stand for each guitar on top.
He stood and smiled at her dusting his hands theatrically. "Voila. I'm a big believer in Keep it Simple. Once you've lugged a few Marshall stacks* you get a distinct taste for small combo amps and minimal gear."
Jess laughed, " Well I guess that might be true. I've never really had to, ah, lug, any Marshall stacks. So this is it... your live rig? Pretty basic, I thought you'd be more hi-tech. What, one little amp two guitars, an ancient pedal board setup and a couple of guitar stands. I expected a stack of rack gear and a big digital multi effect thingy. That's what my last guitarist had. Oh, and at least 2 amps sometimes more and four or five guitars."
"Ah... well sorry to disappoint. That's all very well if you have roadies on tap. But in the real world you mostly lug your own gear. Sure a couple of amps in a stereo setup would be nice. Different gear for different sounds... but mostly, you make do. I'll give you a list if you like. Amps... guitars... a couple of gorillas to lug it all about." He smiled to take any sting off the words and Jess laughed softly.
"What I have works for most things. A strat might be nice now and again for wang bar* work and a slightly different sound. Maybe an old Gibson for that mellow big jazz sound. But hey... my trusty old Tele covers most sounds and styles. A few pedals and a decent amp, serviced nice and regular. A nice acoustic. Keep it simple, easy lug, in and out." He smiled a little ruefully and shrugged as he caught Jess' slightly amused and exasperated expression.
" Sorry. Getting toward guitar geek stuff. You'll have me blabbing about pickups and this valve versus that and what amp or strings are best if you're not careful. Probably a little boring... Um... if you don't mind watching the gear I'll go pull up the car. Be back in 10."
Jess chatted with Nic as he shut down the desk and began sorting the bits and pieces into cases before starting on the cables, mics and other parts of his contribution to the nights entertainment. She kept an eye on Chris' gear to make sure none of it walked while he retrieved his car from probably a few blocks away. She remembered how it went before she was 'discovered' and proclaimed a star by an opportunistic and ambitious agent. Everything involved trade offs in one form or another.
She got a shot at fame and fortune. He made a name as a keyed in observer and mentor and others took their piece of the pie according to station and relative authority. 'Damn Jess, such cynical thoughts on a nice night. Where hopefully you've just made a friend. Good things to follow... you hope'. Her thoughts were slightly embittered by the users and parasites that infected the industry. It actually surprised her to think of Chris as an innocent, even though he was probably a few years older than she. But being on the periphery of the industry he was not exposed to the shit she faced. Constant expectation of a top 10 or better. Being 'told' that she was too fat or too skinny or dressing badly or dowdy or overly sexy or... it went on and on. Subject to gossip and innuendo, who she was seeing or had just broken up with. Was she a junkie or a drunk or a sex maniac. Did she spend a 'wild weekend' with what's his face from that band or TV show. Was she a closet lesbian involved with the hostess from that game show.
If it wasn't so insane it would be funny, It probably was amusing if you weren't the one being discussed.
She must have been daydreaming and probably sighed out loud. Was startled back to the present by a sharp smack to her behind and a gruff, " ..ah poor old Jess, the trials and tribulations of fame and fortune eh."
After a seconds dislocation she pouted and with laugh grabbed Nics beard and poked her tongue out at him.
"Since when is introspection a crime you callous ruffian." The rueful grin deflected any possible offence to her pompous wording, as Blue laughed heartily at her pretence of hurt.
" Ah, me darlin' I know your moods. Ya just have to look on the bright side, more than the dark. You're a sexy young bint doin' what ya love ta do and bein' paid damn well for the privilege. So don't get all woe is me or I'll have ta put ya over me knee and teach ya some humility." His grin turned feral and a wide smirk crossed his face, " Or it may be that ya'd like that from what I read in the papers ya kinky little thing." His laugh boomed out as Jess blushed deeply and tried to stop the grin creeping up her face. Which just got him chuckling even more... the bastard.
"Damn you Blue. I can't stay mad when you're teasing me like that. You do know all that stuff is made up don't you?" She actually seemed a little worried that he believed some of what was 'generally accepted truth' as decided by the women's magazines.
Nic's expression softened as he saw the worry and potential hurt hovering on her face.
"Ah Jess, c'mon we've known each other a while. I no more believe all tha' crap than I believe in Santa Claus. It's all money and the truth be damned. I know you aren't like that. Mind you... the idea of a nice spankin' does get me heart beatin' slightly quicker..." He managed to jump back from the laughter impaired swipe that followed his last comment and returned with a chuckle to packing up the gear. Jess smiled to herself at the juvenile nature of men and wondered if they were really that driven by sex or if it was an expected put on for the female of the species benefit. Some of each, dependent on the man, she decided as Chris appeared on her periphery and headed for his gear.
4.
Chris grabbed his amp, doing the bend ze knees, hoisted and headed back out. He returned a minute later so Jess bade Nic a good night, promised to get in touch in a day or so and grabbed Chris gig bag and stands as he took the two guitars. He stowed them in the back of an ancient pale green Land Rover ute* with a lock-able resin top on the back. The only modern concession to comfort beyond a World War two Jeep was that it had doors and a roof and thankfully padded covers over the thin vinyl seats. That and the wide tyres or it could be 1960's Africa going lion hunting.
Hiding the gear under a blanket Chris waved her to the passenger side then climbed in the drivers seat. Glancing at his watch he nodded to himself and turned to Jess.
"So you mentioned pizza or would you rather Chinese. It's only 1.30, there's a few places we could go. Did you have anywhere in mind? You cabbed it here so we could head toward Coogee, I remember reading somewhere that's where you live. Grab something, have a chat and then I'll drop you home. Your choice."
"Hmmm, Chinese sounds good lets swing down to Chinatown and pick up something. We could eat in or take-away and eat at my place. Um, where do you live? If it's too far you could stay the night, I have plenty of room."
"Well I'm out at Glenorie..."
"Glenorie! I don't go that far on my holidays. That settles it. You're staying the night. Lets get the food and I'll direct. There's secure parking so your gear will be safe. I can lend you a robe that should fit and isn't too girly."
She was slightly amused to see a slight blush creep up his cheeks as he nodded, started the car and concentrated on getting past the truck Nic was packing the PA into, he waved as he passed and Nic smiled as he slapped the side twice as they crept by.
"So why do you live so far out? It must take you over an hour to get home, after a feed this time of night that would mean at least 3 in the morning."
"Well I'm not really a beach slash city person. I enjoy coming in and playing but I like getting back out of the city and suburbs to the slightly open countryside. Trees and valleys and bush. Birdsong in the morning instead of traffic. It only takes about 40 minutes this time of night. It's more peaceful and relaxing than in here." He shrugged and concentrated on driving.
They drove down across the city centre to Chinatown in easy silence. Jess leant half against the door and quietly watched Chris as he drove. Smooth and economical with a certain 'polite gentleness' was the phrase that stuck in her head though what that meant exactly she couldn't say. He was aware of her watching him and had a small, she thought slightly embarrassed smile as he flicked his eyes to her every few minutes. Which in turn brought a smile to her own face. Gay or not he was an unusual guy. She didn't think she had met another quite like him.
They hung left and headed toward the centre of Chinatown, lucking a park only four blocks short, locked up and walked the rest of the way into the bustle of locals, both Asian and others and of course tourists. They picked a small storefront that both had eaten at before and ordered several dishes and entrée's to take-away.
They quietly sipped the tea that had been plonked in front of them by a smiling apron clad man that bawled their order in rapid Cantonese to the kitchen just beyond the swing doors less than 20 feet away. A quick single word response fired back and he smiled again and quietly said, "10 minutes" as he took the fifty Jess proffered and nodding again turned to the register and punched a key, deposited the note and handed her one back. Before Chris could even get his wallet out she stopped his arm and quietly whispered, "my treat, call it a business expense."
Chris held her eyes for a moment before nodding and settled back with his small tea cup. She watched him again for a few minutes until he grinned self consciously and looked out at the street. The image in the bar earlier came to her as he had dropped the drunk guy to his knees in a couple of seconds. No real violence just quiet surety. It seemed somehow not the same gentle and maybe slightly effeminate guy sitting opposite her trying to ignore her scrutiny.
"So Chris, I was just thinking how you handled that guy in the bar. Are you a black belt or something?" He turned back to her seemingly more embarrassed that earlier.
"Black Belt, no nothing like that." Her gaze invited further response and she waited patiently.
"Um, well back in high school I had a bit of trouble for a while and my older brother had a friend who was really into all that. I think he was a fourth dan in Aikido. He came over one afternoon a week for a few months and taught me some blocks, grips and throws, just enough to keep myself out of trouble and gave me some videos to watch and pick up a bit more. So, I know a bit but I'm a rank beginner compared to Claude. Aikido's basically reactive and gentle but if you watch a couple of high dans go at it you know they could kill you in a second if they wanted to."
"So..."
"So? What do you mean?"
"Well did it work? Did you 'keep out of trouble' after that? Best the bullies or whatever?"
"Yeah. I, um, dropped the main bad guy with an arm lock and told him I'd break it off next time. I guess he believed me 'cause I had no more trouble, from them anyway."
"What do you mean, there were others?"
"Uh, well it seemed that 'someone' let it be 'known' that I was gay. Lot's of quiet contempt and muttered comments." A slightly bitter half smile crossed his face. "I guess no one wanted their arm ripped off or something. I was left alone. Gave me plenty of time to practice guitar."
The pain that flitted across his face and settled in his eyes made Jess regret asking the question, but she wanted to know. She wasn't quite sure why but...
"So are you?"
He stared at her sadly for a minute then glanced over her shoulder as a plastic bag full of food was lowered to the table with a soft, "Your order. Enjoy. Please come again, yes."
Chris grabbed the bag and stood easily with that same fluid almost feminine grace that even though she felt bad for asking she was annoyed at the intervention of the order. Sighing softly she stood and smiling took his arm and whispered in his ear as they headed out," sorry it's none of my business and we hardly know one another. Please forget it."
His quiet "Ok" just reached her as they walked up the noisy footpath to the car, piled in and headed east toward Coogee and her apartment. As they came down the hill toward the beach she directed him into a side street and then a back lane that had the security door to the underground garage of her building. A small four-story block of two, two and then singles on three and four. He parked next to the burgundy Accord as directed and locked the car as she took the food and keyed the lock against No. 6, the top floor.
5.
As they rode up the few floors in the lift Jess apologised again for intruding.
"I'm sorry about before Chris. I like you and want to know you better. But that's no excuse for prying into your life. Told you I was a bossy bitch, or was that nosy." He nodded but made no further response.
The lift stopped and the door opened into the foyer of her apartment. She led the way to a large open kitchen. Gesturing for Chris to place the food she bent and got a couple of plates some cutlery and a couple of glasses.
"Fancy some wine Chris. I feel quite excited and up and I'm really looking forward to you and I getting together." She stopped as she saw the laughter just below the surface on his face. After a second she laughed and threw a washcloth at his head that he caught easily.
"Sure, a glass or two would be nice." Humour evident in his voice and eyes.
"Bastard" she muttered, laughing, as she searched for the opener.
They sat and chatted easily as they ate. Switching from entrée's to mains as the mood took. A splash of soy or dash of plum sauce. But as ever there was food left when they were done. So a quick wipe down and stuff the leftovers in the fridge, probably to be thrown out in about a week as a container was opened and that rhetorical, question was asked, "I wonder what this was? Yuck."
Chris settled on the lounge and gazed out the window at the view across the skyline and beach north and east of Jessica's apartment. He sat for a minute before kicking off his boots and tucking his legs up under him. Squidged (I made that one up) slightly to settle himself and holding his wine glass in both hands took in the ocean and lights displayed below.
Jess walked across from the kitchen and paused as she took in Chris sitting as he was. She could not help but smile and shaking her head slightly joined him, flopping into the lounge against the arm at the far end.
"Oh just make your self at home won't you." Jess smirked and poked her tongue out as Chris smiled slightly but didn't even look her way. She glanced at the boots, yep, RM's.
Jess smiled to herself and sipped silently just watching this guy sat on her lounge in a rather feminine pose without any self consciousness at all. She liked him but was not 'attracted' to him. Wanted to be friends but thought more in talking and relating terms than nights out and waiting for a call.
'Did it matter if he was gay? No it did not, it would answer whatever questions she had. Maybe.' She still wanted to be friends and more than that? Wanted him to play with her. A relationship, of sorts. 'Probably more meaningful than any she'd had in years. Ah, the price of fame.' The snort of laughter that followed that thought caused Chris to look her way with a questioning expression on his face. Jess shook her head with a smile and he turned back to the view with a small smile of his own.
"You know, this is nice. Plenty of room, great view. Probably a great investment too. But... well, you seem, I don't know... a little... alone. Beautiful, successful rock chick like you and you're picking up strange guitar players in bars and bringing them home..." He shrugged and waved his glass at Jess with a smile.
"Hell... happens to me all the time. But... ok I lie. It's been so long I forget how to spell sex. Let alone remember what to do or how... so that means you actually do want me to play guitar with you, which is very flattering and I would love to."
Jess went from surprise to mild anger and back to surprise, mixed with slight amusement.
"You're what... two years older than me, maybe three. So I doubt it's been all that long, relatively. As for picking up strange guitar players... well you might qualify in that respect, the strange bit I mean. But seriously I like your playing and I like you. Sex, well it's been a while for me too, but it never crossed my mind. Tonight was a work night and I'm serious about my work. I think you are too. So..." She poked her tongue at him and pouted sulkily.
Chris smiled and shook his head, "Yeah. You're right. Sorry. Didn't mean to imply anything. Just getting defensive I guess. Us strange guitar players are like that. Oh, it's two... not three."
They stared straight faced at each other for possibly a minute and then each succumbed as the other tried to hold back and soon they were both laughing madly with tears running down their faces. After about three minutes they had recovered enough to be smiling inanely at anything and nothing.
"What... the hell... are we laughing at?" Chris spluttered as he wiped his face.
"Who knows, but it felt good." Replied Jess, carefully wiping tears from under her eyes.
They sat sipping wine and stared at the view in peaceful silence.
6.
Jess gazed quietly at Chris and tried to decide who he was. Was he gay? Slightly feminine in manner and appearance. Maybe a couple of inches on her 5'6, but he could look after himself. Slightly sarcastic, but smart and thoughtful. And a damn good guitar player, which was the main point after all. If he became a friend... well so much the better. She hoped so, but it wasn't essential as long as he was professional, which she didn't doubt.
"So tell me oh guitar geek. Is that one you play really an oldie or is it one of those new made old repro's they do now?"
Chris smiled and turned to her, "Well, bit a both actually. The body and neck is '64, nice and light and mellow. Everything else is pretty new. It used to be red but... well I'm not crazy about red as a guitar colour so I stripped it back and oiled the bare wood. Has the added benefit of softening that sometimes 'sharp' Tele sound, which is also the reason for some of the other bits. Graphite bridge and nut takes the twang off a pinch and the pickups are noiseless Kinmans*.The tortoiseshell pick guard is just for the look. So, it's a hybrid, customised to me. Does what I need most of the time." He shrugged slightly and grinned, "Techie boring enough for ya? You did ask."
She smiled back, "It's cool, I followed no prob. And I understand what you said and the why. What about that acoustic, is that custom? Looks like it and sounds good."
"Yeah that's a custom Gilet*, he's over in Botany. Had it made a few years back and then got a fishman* fitted under the saddle. No pre-amp, that's why I use the graphic* pedal. It's a European spruce top with Tassie* Blackwood back and sides, Brazilian Rosewood bridge and fingerboard, the neck is Queensland maple. That ancient pedal board belonged to my brother. He gave it to me when he left school and got a real job. He's 10 years older and that's how I got into all the seventies stuff. Got me the current gig, 'cause that's what they're into. The amps a Rivera* 55, used to have a Boogie* which had more grunt, but this one is a little smoother. There ya have it, my gear in a nutshell." He grinned slightly apologetically at her and she smiled back.
It was good to watch him talk like that. The eyes sparkled and that sadness disappeared. 'Boys and their toys'. Tools maybe in this case, but the same thing basically. Still, the hand gestures and posture were very feminine. She could imagine him having a hard time with some people. If you stick out you can be a target for distrust or worse. Her musing was broken by a return question.
"So what about you. What are you using these days?"
"Well I get it given to me. Yamaha keys', um CP 300's, pretty new, nice touch, got 2 of them, one in the office here. Taylor guitars, ah, 800 and 900 series Grand Concerts. Different woods and degree's of fancy, you'd probably know better than me and Sennheiser mics." Jess sighed theatrically, "The price of fame I guess. Top quality gear at no cost beyond a, 'I use blah blah', in an add and visible brand names on stage. As long as it does what it should, no problem. I've got one of the Taylors in the office as well, if you want to see?"
"One of... just how many do you have?"
"Um, four I think. A real fancy 900 my manager keeps in his office, two others with my stage gear and the one here. I like the smaller body style like these. Pretty similar to yours in looks, not sure how they compare, but these are pretty nice."
"Yeah the good mass market stuff like Taylor is good gear. Especially the upper level lines. Probably isn't much between them and mine at all. Minor differences in styling and personalisation. Talk to the guy that makes it as opposed to a guy in a shop."
Jess got up and went into another room and came back carrying a guitar.
"Here, try it out, the strings might be slightly old but they're ok."
"Hmmm. Cedar top I think, which will make it a little more mellow than mine. Mahogany back and sides, rosewood board..." He strummed a few chords and picked a line. "...pretty nice, I like mine better. But this is good."
"Yeah, you make it sound better than I could though, no great surprise." She watched as he picked a lead line and blended chords into a smooth instrumental piece. Then grinning at her began to pick some slightly jazzy chords that after a moment or so she recognised as a re-voiced version of her own 'Missing the Feeling'. She listened as he ran through a couple of times to get the tempo and feel, which was slower and a more jazz gypsy style than the originally recorded solo piano.
Then as he ran through from the start he nodded to her and softened his playing so she could croon the words...
Saw you there across that room
And I just had to walk away
Feeling sad and oh so lonely
Wondering where did I go wrong
How could it just have faded
Like smoke into the night
She has your arms to hold her
A place I once knew well
That gentle touch and whisper
It was something oh so strong
A place of peace and safety
I could reach and touch the moon
***
Ohhh Oh missing that feeling
The gentle pressure in the night
Soft and sweet that bump and sway
Oh I'm missing that feeling
The way you'd hold me tight
Yes I sure do miss that feeling
Caress and touch to reach the light
Beauty in a simple movement
Oh I'm missing that feeling
It all just slipped away
***
The distance seemed so sudden
All at once the gap was there
Where once was easy pleasure
Now a stretch could barely touch
The simple became harder
And the harder was too much
***
repeat chorus
***
Oh I'm missing that feeling
That sweet and gentle touch
Yes I'm missing that feeling
It's awful lonely now at night
Hmmm I'm missing that feeling
Wish I could make it right
Oh yes I miss that feeling
(Slow)
Hmmm missing that feeling
I really am ohh yes I am
I am Missing That Feeling
(repeat from slow)
As the wavering final guitar notes faded they looked at each other and grinned like idiots. Their thoughts probably almost exactly the same, at least initially, '...damn, that felt great. That really worked...' Then, well, each to their own.
7.
A glance at the clock showed past 3 am, time to rest the weary.
Jessica showed Chris the spare room and got him a towel and a robe. A nice big fluffy towelling robe in pale blue. The towel matched, of course. Not too girly as she had said, but... not real macho either. Chris smiled ruefully and took it in good grace as Jess smirked at his discomfort. There were two bathrooms so, no problem there. After a quick shower she tossed his clothes into the drier to lift the smoke smell and set the timer.
"Hey you look real cute in that robe ya know. Baby blue is just so you." She noticed it was tightly belted and wrapped and the hem sat at his knees. There seemed no visible hair on what she could see of his legs. Or anywhere else, except his head and that was still ponytailed.
His reply surprised her and made her laugh.
" Well I always go darker blues, but in this case a nice rich yellow would have been more appropriate. It's summer and I am a Leo after all."
He grinned at Jess' surprise and turned with a very feminine strut and walked into the spare room, as he waggled his fingers over his shoulder. She had to laugh which she was sure was expected. But, also had to wonder, how much of that was a joke. Shaking her head she headed to bed and as the light clicked off wondered just who this guy was. He sure kept a tight hold on the real Chris, at least she suspected there was more than met the eye. Sleep came quickly.
It was after 11 when she emerged to find Chris dressed, his bedding and robe in the wash, coffee and croissants ready and waiting. He looked fresh and neat, no 5 o'clock shadow as she had expected. She wondered again just who this guy was.
But coffee and a croissant distracted her thoughts. A rich Blackberry jam, ah, bliss.
They chatted easily and swapped mobile numbers and e-mails. She agreed to follow him out to his place as the discussion had turned to rehearsal space and Chris had suggested his own sunroom. For a duo setup in comfort it worked well he assured her. So, she would have a look.
A little after 1 they set off Chris leading in the old Landie and Jessica following in her Honda. They headed across the Harbour bridge and followed the M2 until the turnoff and up Pennant Hills Rd to New Line and the Old Northern to Glenorie. Shortly after 2 they pulled off, Chris into a carport and Jess into the dirt lay-by off the road to the front of the old weatherboard cottage set about 30 metres back.
She helped as he unloaded his gear and then had a look around as he made coffee. It was a small 2 bed, 1 bath, lounge/dining and kitchen, probably forties weatherboard. Neat and well maintained. It was the sunroom that made the place and she knew straight away it was perfect. It stretched the full width across the back of the house, about 5 by 12 metres and faced down the valley behind. Glass enclosed, bright and airy. A small amp and a battered old Takamine guitar on a stand sat at one end. An old comfy looking lounge was centred and faced the valley, a couple of pot plants, a beat up old Persian rug and a stereo at the other end, that was it.
She sat and sipped coffee, nibbled some shortbread as Chris played a demo instrumental. He stopped took a few sips and said, "close your eyes". She did, as he ran through an easy fluid Santana-ish solo thing as she listened to the room the reverb and brightness as the sound bounced around. It had a rich 'old hall' live feel and she could see why he had suggested it. They could even record the demo tracks here for the studio sessions and she started to get excited. This was going to the best album she had done to date, she knew it. She and Chris would make magic or close to it. She just knew.
A few more songs to give enough choice. That was almost done. She would have Nic drop some gear over. A small PA, her keyboard and guitar, some effect gear, mics and stands, a mixer and a laptop with cubase* to record all the demo's to hard-disc and then CD. Her mind starting running the details and ticking off notes to various people. A few minutes later she became aware that silence reigned. Chris was standing with his elbows cupped in each hand above his guitar and his head tilted slightly as he watched her think. A small smile on his face.
"So. I assume you agree. This will work. Yes."
She grinned like a maniac in response and nodding jumped to her feet to pace. A sure-fire indicator she was energised and working the old grey matter.
Chris had to guess at it, but that was not particularly hard. He lifted off the guitar, sat it on the stand and tossed back the last of his coffee as he sat to watch her think.
She rattled off her thoughts as she paced and Chris had to admire her focus and skill at mental organisation. After several minutes she dropped onto the lounge beside him and giving a tight hug kissed his left cheek.
"Oh this is going to be great. I can feel it. We will be terrific. Another 3 weeks", she glanced at him for confirmation, " then we get down to it. Oh I can't wait, well I can. Gives me a chance to brush off a couple more tunes for working on and then, mid Feb we hole up here each day and work our little butts or fingers off."
Another hour and Chris waved her off. They kept in touch by phone and often multiple daily e-mails. Chris finished up with the 'Blue Ringers' and headed to Tamworth and the gigs that he had set up, with friends mainly. Jess fulfilled her 'contractual obligations' for interviews and appearances and by the second week of Feb was practically itching to get going.
She had spoken to Chris everyday and really appreciated his easy accepting manner and willingness to let her run things. She was a control freak and knew it. She was however smart enough to know that if he did question or object it would be worth listening to. He was back in town and ready to go. Tomorrow they would begin. Nic had dropped the gear at Chris' place and all was a go. She wondered if she'd sleep, but she was out like a light. Up equally early, raring to go. She had said 1, after lunch, but well, 'let's get this show on the road'.
8.
Jessica pulled the Honda into the lay-by in front of Chris' house. She was two hours early and wondered if he'd even be here. Instead of knocking on the front door she headed down the side intending to check if anyone was there and if the gear was set up. She didn't really doubt, it was just, well... As she headed down the path the angle of the sun caused a reflection of the whole room on the side glass. She could see the two guitars and amp set up with a boom stand and mic just in front for Chris. Her Yamaha keyboard and Taylor acoustic were setup a little way away with another stand and the small Bose PA bracketing it all with a rack of gear to the side. Her appraisal had taken maybe 30 seconds, as she took another step the light changed and the view dimmed as a woman walked into the room. Curious she stopped and took a back step to see more clearly this woman that was in Chris' home.
As Jess watched she leant down and switched the PA to live and flicked another switch to start some music playing. It was loud but no one else was closer than 200 metres, so, Jess shrugged gently. It took a moment for the funky beat to register. She hadn't heard the live version. It was Boz Scaggs doing some classic stuff from his old albums. As she watched the woman began to sway and dance slowly. Arms above her head she danced to the beat then stepped in to double on the backup vocal parts. Her voice was husky but good. She crooned her part then stepping to the beat spun gently for more space to dance some more. Her timing was spot on and the line she added worked well with the original recording.
Jessica had been there for perhaps 4 minutes watching as this stranger sang and danced, theoretically in private. Something puzzled her about this woman. What? Her clothing? A short skirt, strappy heels and a long sleeve T on top. She was relatively under-endowed. Her hair was loose and wavy, dangly earrings glinting in the light. No make up at all as far as Jess could see. Then as she turned directly into the light the face fully illuminated, eyes closed in pleasure as she danced...
Jess flushed hotly as a feeling of guilt washed through her for gazing on a private moment not meant for other eyes. The woman was Chris. Biting her lip softly Jess backed up and walked back to her car. Damn, she should have known. She sat for a minute, her mind blank. Then started up, backed out slowly and drove the 2k back to the café she had passed earlier. Ordered a cappuccino and settled with some magazine to kill the time, plus a bit, before she would resume the trip.
Thoughts wandered back and forth as she tried to piece the clues together. 'So. Maybe not Gay, exactly. Did he want to be a woman? Was that the source of the pain in his, or was it her, eyes? How do you ask a question when the person is trying to keep it private and you should not know? But you do, damn.'
End Part 1 Part 2 to follow shortly.
*
Bayswater — The Bayswater Brasserie, a music venue/eatery in Kings Cross, Sydney (now defunct)
Moniker — a nickname or name
RM's - R M Williams - a famous Aussie 'bush' clothing Co. They make boots among other things
Wanker(s) — derisory term for anyone considered to be a bit full of themselves, better than the rest. A jerk. From the slang for masturbation ie to jerk off or wank.
Tamworth (Country Music Festival) — a town in central north NSW Australia. A yearly week long festival of Country Music is held in late January (sort of an Aussie Nashville in miniature). Awards, buskers, lots of music and a fair bit of drinking.
Muso — short/slang for musician
Natter — slang for a chat/conversation
Marlborough — a wine region in New Zealand famous for, especially, Sauvignon Blanc.
Multi-core — the main cable that connects the stage speakers/monitors to the mixing desk/ amplifiers.
Wang bar — the tremolo arm, for vibrato or dive bomb type sounds. On, in this case, a Fender Stratocaster or Strat for short. Tele (Telecaster) is an earlier, simpler model guitar also from Fender.
Marshall stacks — Marshall is one of the most famous guitar amp manufacturers. Their head and quad box setup practically defined seventies rock. The head is the separate box containing the electronics, a quad box is a 4 speaker cabinet. Often 2 would be stacked 1 on the other and head on top.
A combo is a smaller self contained unit. i.e. speaker(s) and electronics in one cabinet.
Ute — Short for utility vehicle. What in the US would be called a pickup.
Chris Kinman — a Brisbane Australia, pickup maker. The best Strat or Tele retrofits going.
Gerard Gilet — a luthier(guitar maker) working in Sydney. Makes nice instruments.
Fishman — an under the bridge saddle(where the strings end on the body) slim, permanent fit, pickup. Needs careful fitting.
Graphic — short for graphic equaliser. In this case a pedal, used to adjust/taper the sound.
Tassie — Tasmania, the southernmost, Island state of Australia
Rivera and (Mesa)Boogie — relatively small U.S. 'boutique' Guitar Amplifier companies.
Cubase — a sound recording software program
Any thoughts or comments I can be contacted - [email protected] Anything short of abuse welcome.
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Part 2 of 2.
This follows directly from Pt 1. The continuation and conclusion of the tale.
Two people form a relationship that takes a few turns from where either of them expected things to go.
There is a bit of violence here, but not too graphic.
A few expressions and phrases may be unfamiliar to some. Where I thought appropriate I have marked with an asterisk and a meaning is placed at the end.
Thank you to Dimelza Cassidy for much needed advice on 'Blues' bike. Any errors are down to me not asking the right question.
This is a work of adult fiction. No resemblance to reality should be inferred or expected.
Copyright KLS 2006.
Blues for C.
Part - 2 of 2
By Kristina.L.S.
1.
Jessica sat and let her thoughts wander where they would. 'Did what she 'maybe' knew change anything really? No. Except, perhaps, in the details'. She liked Chris and whether he was... a gay he, or, what was the word? ... Well if he felt like a she. No, it didn't really change anything. Chris, boy or girl could play and that was what she needed. The fact that she liked, ah, Chris did not alter that. It would possibly fuel the rumour mill if she started appearing with a female guitar player, but that would happen regardless, so...
On the up side it could be fun. Having a 'girl' friend on tour, as opposed to all guys. She snorted at the thought of 'playing' big sister slash mentor. Sure there were girl musicians, but not many, some in the PR side and for big promos/tours, makeup, choreography, wardrobe and the like, but generally...
Then of course there was the question, 'did she know what she thought she knew?'
Was she over-interpreting? It could be that Chris just liked to dress up from time to time. But she had the feeling it was not that simple.
This was going to be a pretty low key, in numbers, tour, so... what? Phil, her manager and no doubt his PA Liz. A sound and lighting guy, with an off-sider or two. Blue, she hoped. Herself. Chris, as boy or girl. A driver when outside the metro areas or interstate and that was probably going to be it. It might change the logistics a little, but beyond that...
She glanced at her watch, 'forty-five minutes, oh well... another coffee'. Her gaze returned to the immediate surroundings and she noticed a gawky kid that looked like one of those 'Bratz' dolls, without all the makeup, standing nearby clutching a CD and looking very nervous. About 14 she guessed. Jess smiled at her, "Hey there, cute outfit. Is that for me?" She glanced at the CD and smiled again.
She blinked and then grinned, "Ah, yeah, sorry. I saw you sitting here and I... well I only live up the road... and me mum said I was mad and if it was you not to bother you... but would you sign this it's your latest. I think you're great."
She put the CD on the table and pushed it across using both hands, " Um, my names Tracy, Tracy Wilson, maybe we're related, ya think? That'd be cool."
"Well I don't know Tracy, but it's possible I guess. Do you have a pen? No... never mind I'm sure we can borrow one." She got up and went to the counter and a ball point was passed over.
Slipped the inner sleeve out and across the photo wrote, 'To my dear cousin Tracy who will make the family proud - hugs and kisses Jessica Wilson'.
Jess returned the pen as Tracy read the inscription and smiling widely, "..hey thanks so much, that's great..", and bounded out the door with that slightly gawky, coltish run that young girls have.
Jess sat again and shook her head with a soft smile sitting on her face. The lady that leant her the pen placed another coffee on the table, "That was nice of you. Coffee's on the house love. You're alright." She smiled at Jess' thanks and returned to the counter.
Her mind wandered again as she sipped and sat for several minutes just space gazing. Then with a slight shake tossed the coffee down and with a smile and wave headed to her car.
She was still early, but... well, 'let's see shall we'. This time she knocked. Well ding-donged actually, she could hear it and picked up a slight creak of floorboards as footsteps headed her way. There was still music playing but not as loud as earlier. She stared at the old door, etched glass panels in a painted wood frame. It rattled a little as it opened to a smiling Chris. Barefoot, cotton drawstring pants and that same long T, no obvious breasts. Could she see the outline of a crop top? His hair was pulled back as usual. Funny, she'd never noticed the small diamond stud in his right ear, just the hoop in the left.
She must have taken too long to respond to his, 'Hi', or maybe it was the blush that spread up her cheeks. Whatever, the smile dropped and he went pale. Just turned and walked away through the house.
"Shit! Chris... wait." She followed his trail and saw him head out through the sunroom to the back door where he headed down the steps and sat in an old sun chair under a tree and gazed into the valley. With a sigh Jess returned to the front and closed the door. Then set about making coffee and tried to figure out how to do this.
Jess sat two coffee's on the small round table and took the second sun chair. There was no acknowledgement from across the table, so...
"Um, Chris I won't pretend I understand at all. I, well, I came here earlier but I didn't knock. I wanted to be sure things were set up, so I came down the side. When I saw a woman walk in and start singing and dancing, pretty well too, I was curious and watched for a minute or two and then I realised it was you. I'm sorry I spied on you, it wasn't intentional. I thought you had a friend in, until.... I... well I like you and I don't really care if you're Chris or... what... Christine, it doesn't matter except in how you feel. I wondered about you being gay and stuck my nose in. Now I'm really doing a Pinocchio and to be honest I'm not sorry. That night at my place I wondered, your manner and when I saw you in the robe, you seemed almost hairless and didn't need to shave the next morning. And well...I would rather know the real you than have a wall sitting in the way. If you want to be a woman and play as one I don't care. You're good and that doesn't change with a few clothes or whatever. So just be yourself, be honest with me, trust me if you can and we'll go from here." She started to say something else but instead lapsed into silence and just sat, waiting and hoping.
There was a soft sigh from the other chair. "You know, I nearly told you the other night. But it's not really the sort of thing you blurt out to relative strangers. So I figured I'd play it by ear and see where things went. Whatever else I could do the tour and album, get a bit of money together and maybe do the switch to full time after. If we became and stayed friends you would probably find out sometime and that bothered me a bit. I haven't seen or spoken to my family in over 6 years and the only 'friends' I told haven't been back, so I'm a little wary."
He paused for a minute to gather his thoughts and Jess waited silently not wanting to break the flow.
"I've known since I was 6 that I wasn't quite a regular kid. Didn't fully understand it of course, but I pretty much knew. You piece bits together as you go along. Look at this or read that. So... a few years back I headed off to just wander and try to figure myself out. Finally I started seeing a psychiatrist. Weekly for a while, now a coupla' times a year. I spent about 12 grand over two and a half years getting my face and a few other spots zapped to remove hair. I use a mousse and a retardant fortnightly to keep it gone everywhere else. About a year ago I started on hormones. I plan to start living full time as Christine in a few months, depending... Still, the timings fluid, if not the desire... hmm not the right word but..." The story jumped around a bit as Jess' expressions suggested further clarification was needed and thoughts that hadn't been vocalised much, if ever, were put into words and tasted. After about half an hour as Chris lapsed into silence...
"Chris, I mean this, I don't care... that is, if you want to be guy or gal, it's cool with me. I watched you this morning and 'she' seemed comfortable and happy. With him there is always a slight distance, maybe that will go if she comes out. I like you and I want to be your friend and I'm selfish enough to say I want you to help me make an album, a very good album." She smirked and laughed as an image came to mind. Then turned a little serious.
"Just be aware that Christine will almost certainly be branded my lesbian lover as soon as we're seen together. Um, I guess if you're wary of your 'secret' coming out you need to consider that. Press scrutiny can be a real pain, so, open and honest I think. If you can handle that... well, we're good. I rather like the idea of having a girl friend around. The biz can be a bit, ah, male at times. But don't take it lightly, it can get nasty." She was slightly annoyed and a little surprised to see a wide smile, almost laughter on Chris' face.
"So are you? Gay I mean?"
It took a moment and then she spluttered and laughed herself. " You bastard, um, bitch. Well ok, I guess you owed me that one. Am I gay? Well... no, but then maybe I haven't met the right girl." She smirked back at Chris as he, she, smiled softly and sipped the coffee. Only to pull a face, "Yuk, cold. Back in a minute."
2.
Jess sat and relaxed. 'Phew, no worries. Thank god.' It only needed to be seen whether Chris would stay as a guy or slip into the gal role. As it was his plan anyway she thought he would go with 'gal', but that probably depended on all sorts of things she knew nothing about. In a sense it didn't matter at all from her perspective. But she thought she would like to be around and maybe even help Christine. With 'Chris' there was always a slight distance, a fear of letting people in and then getting hurt. She had noticed, when he glanced her way, that the sadness in his eyes had faded as he talked and hoped that would continue. The closer you were to your band mates the easier it was to know where the others were going. Became almost instinctive and that led to great music. But... she frowned at past memories, get too close and it can wreck everything. She must have sighed aloud...
"So what's the big sigh for? If you want to stop here and find someone else..."
Chris sat and with an expression somewhere between pain and longing looked at her face, switching from eye to eye, trying to 'feel' an answer.
She sighed again and smiled ruefully, " No Chris. I don't want to find someone else. You may not be perfect, but you'll do." She grinned and then turned serious.
"No, I want to play with you. I was just wondering whether that would be with 'Chris' or 'Christine'. It doesn't really matter but I admit to finding Christine 'easier', I think. Chris has a distance and sadness that 'she' doesn't. But then I haven't really met her... So, it's fine either way. And then I started thinking about friendships and bands and how close is good but too close is disaster." She lapsed into silence and Chris pondered things he'd heard and read.
"You mean your first manager I guess. That ended pretty badly, public slanging matches and court cases for royalties and then an assault charge. Not much fun I would guess. But, ancient history and none of my business. Unless you want to talk about it. Seems to me he used you and tried to rip you off. Control you by having a relationship and then smacked you one when you rebelled. I don't know the details but... that about sum it up?"
"Yeah. Not too far wrong. I was naíve and stupid. Trusted too much and thought I loved... Well as you say, ancient history. So, whadaya reckon, Chrissie gal, shall we go make beautiful music together. I want to meet her properly so let's go get you slipped into something more comfortable. Lose the crop top at least. Then, we'll have a look at the charts* and listen to the rough copies I did on disc."
Chris looked a little uncomfortable as he?... sat and sipped his reheated coffee. Then with a slight nod, "Ok. Come on then, let's get to it."
They climbed the steps into the house and Jess headed to her car to get the charts and CD's as Chris headed for the bedroom. She came back in, closed the front door and headed back to the sunroom to find Chris standing, waiting. She looked her up and down. Same clothes, but... hair loose, dangly earrings 'the same ones?', still no makeup, soft flats on her feet and small breasts now obvious on her chest.
She smiled nervously, " Hi Jess, nice to meet you."
Her voice was a little softer and a couple of tones higher, noticeably feminine and natural. Jess found herself wondering what 'she' looked like in just her underwear and before she even thought about it asked the question.
"Hmm, you look nice... um, could I see your body? Not fully... just underwear. Shit, sorry, I'm being thoughtless, forget it." They were both blushing hotly by now. But Chris just gripped the hem of her T with opposing hands and flipped it up and off, then dropped her cotton pants and stood in just lacy Royal blue brief and bra. Jess eyes wandered up and down. 'Pretty nice figure, slightly thick in the waist, small bust. But... pretty nice. A very slight bulge in her crotch if you looked close.' She shook her head and blushed again as Chris fidgeted nervously and proceeded to slip her clothes back on.
A slight waft of perfume reached Jess as they sat on the lounge with the charts scattered on the pulled up coffee table and looked them over as basic piano or guitar and vocal tracks played in the background. It distracted her, so she asked, "Nice scent, what is it?"
Chris grinned, her self-consciousness seemingly gone, " 'Beautiful' Estee Lauder, nice and not too expensive. Hey I'm just a stugglin' muso gal, not a rich bitch rock star like you." The poked out tongue and wide grin took any sting off and Jess nodded and smiled.
Shook herself again, "Sorry this is just a trifle weird. I mean I've seen a few drag shows... But I've never sat and chatted with someone like you. I was right though, you're more comfortable and once I get over my, ah, sense of..." She waved her hands trying to find the right word or phrase.
"Do you go out dressed up often? I mean you look good and I doubt you'd have many problems but... was it scary the first time?"
Chris smiled and sat back in her seat.
"Yeah, I go out a bit. A few times a week or more, shopping and whatever. Just normal stuff. The first time... that was about 6 months ago and I was scared shitless. Roamed a big shopping centre mainly browsing and did a bit of basic food, makeup and undies at the supermarket. No doubt had security types following me suspecting a junkie thief or something. I probably gave off waves of fear. But, hey I survived and it got easier. I get clocked* occasionally, but as long as you're honest and treat people nice it's seldom a problem. I steer clear of drunken crowds with lots of guys though. Got thrown out of a boutique once, but..." with a shrug she smiled and sat back watching Jess.
Jess smiled at her and just looked back, taking in the ease and naturalness as Chris sat. It was a girl she saw. If you looked closely you could pick up a few signs that all was not what it seemed, but... overall, a girl. She grinned and nodded.
"Well, honest and nice it is. It'll be good to have a girl friend on the road who understands music and such. What is the appropriate word anyway I can't think of it?" Chris looked puzzled for a second then smiled a little crookedly.
"Oh, you mean Trans-gendered. Transitioning from male to female. Used to be Transsexual but I guess that's not PC enough any more, same thing though. I guess I need a label or a badge maybe, '...Yeah I used to be a guy...', shit."
"I'm sorry, didn't want to upset you I just..."
"No, it's cool. It will probably come up, so... I guess that's what I am. Face it as it comes. I'm sorta used to it anyway. So... let's get back to the music then eh."
They sat and worked their way through the charts and songs, defining each others parts, substituting chords and setting the tone for each individual piece. After about 6 hours they had reached a basic understanding of each others perception of where each song would sit and how it would be presented. A basic list of 15 with another 4 probable out-takes. Hellishly boring if you weren't involved but hugely involving, satisfying and to a degree draining if you were part of it. And then there was the buzz once it got recorded and you could hear it back. Now they just had to start the process of getting it down on 'tape' or hard-disc/CD as the case may be.
Jess stretched and pondered the current situation. She was thrilled with the afternoons work and really energised with the idea of a real friend that understood the game and the creative side. If she could help the slightly sad and introspective Chris evolve into the more easy-going Chrissie so much the better. The idea of having a true friend there on the road was a release she hadn't known she needed.
She glanced across and grinned widely at Chris as she tried a few variations on a chord sequence for the last song, nodded to herself and noted it down on the chart. She looked up suddenly and blushed at the scrutiny, "What??"
"Oh nothing, just admiring your work ethic. Come on let's have a quick shower, get changed and go out for a feed and a bit more get to know one another. My treat. I want to see Chrissie out in the big wide world. Come on, a meal, your choice. I'll drive, so you can party on if ya like. Just don't go pickin' up any stray guys or you're on your own." She laughed and almost fell off the lounge at the expression that crossed Chris' face. Then laughed again at the sheepish expression that followed with an, "Ok, sure that would be good."
They had decided Jess would stay at Glenorie for the week or two rather than drive back and forth to Coogee. She had enough packed to last the time and looked forward to it as an almost working holiday. After a quick shower they both dressed simply for a quiet night out. Jess had to whistle as Chris appeared.
Strappy medium heeled sandals, tight jeans, a fitted halter style top and light makeup. A small clutch held almost protectively across her stomach in both hands. Jess' own outfit was very similar. A silk sleeveless blouse and slightly more skilful makeup the only real difference.
"Come on hon. Let's go knock 'em dead. Where do ya fancy then?"
"Well lets duck across to Newport* and have some Indian, there's a really nice place then we could go to 'The Sands', Dee Why or Manly, see what's playing. Just take it easy and see how we go."
"Ok, girl, let's go. You direct and we'll have a girls night out together. It'll
be nice."
They both climbed into the Honda and as Jess backed out Chris inserted a CD into the player and sat back with a slight smile. It started with a carnival barker calling for tickets, then punchy guitar... and away it went.
"Ok. You got me, who's this then? Hot playing, but I have no idea."
Chris grinned and mimicked guitar playing, " My latest hero after Larry Carlton. The real king of the Tele, unfortunately he killed himself a while back, but he left some killer music behind. That's Danny Gatton, one of the hottest guitarists ever."
Jess could not help but laugh at the enthusiasm and sheer joy as Chrissie listened and almost unconsciously made the hand gestures of fretting a guitar. The disc played all the way south and down the highway and across to Mona Vale then north to Newport. She smiled all the way as did Chris. And she had to agree the guy was one hell of a guitar player.
They parked a couple of blocks short of the restaurant and walked up chatting easily and Jess had to shake her head at how natural it seemed. She'd only known this guy a couple of weeks and here he was at ease and happy walking down Pittwater Rd for all the world a mid twenties woman going for dinner with a friend. The thought intruded that it would not always be so easy or happy. A thought she shook off as smiling at Chris they climbed the stairs to the 1st floor to be greeted by a bowing Sikh that directed them to a corner table and with a flourish of napkins seated then both, left menus and a wine list and returned in moments with a big basket of papadums and a jug of iced water.
They ordered a Yarra Valley* Pinot Noir and then selected a special mixed entrée for 2 and a couple of mains. The beautiful sari clad waitress smiled and bowed and never considered mentioning that the two young ladies would never eat all they had ordered.
Two hours later they admitted defeat. A noble effort but as usual with Indian the quantities defied their efforts to finish. Leaving part of a bottle of red and bits of entree's and mains they waddled down stairs and headed to the beach for a stretching head clearing stroll. Stripping off their shoes they walked barefoot, arm in arm, chatting easily and naturally. Just two young women enjoying the evening on the soft golden sand. It was nearing 11 and both agreed they were not really up to carrying on, so back to the car and a quiet drive home to Glenorie. A cup of tea and turns in the shower and off to bed after a quick hug that Chris held just a moment longer than necessary. With a soft kiss to her left cheek Jess wished Chris a good night and see you in the morning. They both lay back a little after midnight and thought through the day, back and forth. But despite that, both were asleep quite quickly and dreamed their own dreams.
3.
Chris was up a little before 8 and headed outside to do a light Pilates workout. The noise of coffee making and general puttering around drew Jess just after 8.30. She noted the camisole top and cotton beach pants Chris wore and the ease with which she accepted, girl. For her part Chris tried to act as though nothing out of the ordinary was happening but did not quite succeed.
"Ok, what's up? You were at ease last night and now you're all tentative and shy. We're friends I hope so, spill..."
"Ah, well I had a dream last night about you and me. A bit of a..." The blush that spread up her face left little doubt as to what sort of dream. Jess couldn't help but laugh.
"Oh Chris. I'm flattered. Never jumped into bed with a guy-gal, could be fun and would certainly be, ah, interesting. Probably better if we keep it to friends though eh?"
Chris nodded and relaxed, looking a little sheepish. But both had slightly distracted expressions on their faces as they sat to coffee. It took a few minutes, but the conversation started and flowed fairly easily as they chatted back and forth. Neutral stuff that ultimately led to music, of course.
Taking another cup each they headed in and Jess sat at the keyboard, tinkled and switched from 'electric piano' to 'natural' while Chris grabbed her acoustic and set the PA to low volume and tweaked the EQ* a little to adjust the balance of each instrument. They ran through a song intro to get the feel each listening closely to their own and each others. They each posed tweaks and after a little fiddling settled on a nice balance that worked for both.
They had four songs to run through initially and over the next few hours worked them up till they were both happy. A few adjustments here and there. One of the four ditched as it did not seem to fit and the other three pretty much defined to each others satisfaction. With only coffee and bathroom breaks they worked through till 4 and called a halt. They switched to 'electric' and worked another two until 7. They were both smiling as these just fell together and sounded great.
As the sun faded Chris set about chopping and sorting the bits for a soft Thai style chicken curry while Jess ducked down the road to the closest Bottle Shop for a few wines. She came back with a mixed dozen of whites and reds, depositing them on the corner kitchen bench and putting a couple of whites in the fridge. She shrugged a little ruefully at Chris' raised eyebrow and unspoken question.
"Well I thought it would save a few trips and keep us in booze for the next week or so." She poked a tongue out at Chris bemused headshake and exasperated, if somewhat exaggerated, sigh. They both laughed as Chris handed her the opener for the pre-chilled one she held. A final stir, the pan on low and the rice cooker into the microwave, "...twenty minutes, let's sit."
With a nod to Jess at the taste of the crisp Riesling Chris sat and sipped
quietly as Jess relaxed in another chair. There was soft Miles Davis playing in the background as they sipped in companionable silence. Finished the glass and refilling, sat to eat. The night flowed gently and a little after 12 they mutually called the day to a close.
The next four days were pretty much carbon copies. The songs changed as did the menu, but otherwise... Finally, they were both satisfied with the song selection and had even decided after a bit of experimentation with 'Perfect Imperfection' and a few others to include a soulful 'torch' version of the old Beatles thing 'Oh Darlin'. The original plaintive almost screaming of Paul McCartney was changed to a muted and much more introspective feel, both having agreed that to just copy it was not on. So 13 originals and one cover.
Jess was really thrilled with the whole process and more than happy with the feel of each piece. The way Chris had taken to the songs and on a couple of occasions rearranged them had been such a different experience she was at first a little taken aback. But after listening to the re-chorded and tempo-changed version of one she relaxed and realised that she now had a friend and collaborator that she could trust and respect. And that was worth gold.
For her part Chris was thrilled that Jess listened to the ideas she had, rather than jumping on them as she suspected had been her first inclination. They were after all her creations. Chris was just the hired hand, at least at the start. But perhaps now they were becoming true friends and she thought Jess saw it the same way. They were beginning to get that almost instinctive feel for each others ideas and mental directions, both musically and personally. If they did argue it was not too heated and one or both soon adjusted position as necessary to settle things. The near hysterical laughter that had ensued as Jess had posed the comment, "We've become an old married couple in only a few days". To which Chris' questioning response was," Who was the wife", had dropped them both in tear riddled laughter that held up proceedings for almost an hour by the time they had fully recovered and stopped giggling at the slightest look or word. Then they both sat and tried to think through what had actually occurred and just what was so funny and what the hell did it mean. Apart from a few friendly kisses and hugs there was...
With coffee and a much more sober mood they had continued for another few hours but the spark had dimmed and they halted for dinner earlier than normal.
They had agreed to take the weekend off. Relax, go brunching at café's, see a movie, listen to a band or two, dine out, lie on the floor listening to CD's, whatever and wherever the mood took them. The only break from their agreed mutual 'holiday' from the music was when late Saturday night as they relaxed with a wine and Diana Krall live in Paris on DVD, Jess had grabbed a pad and sat writing and thinking. Over the next hour or so she jotted bits and pieces until finally closing it with a smile. She refused to let Chris see or hear the new song she had just written. After a few attempts at cajoling and then pouty sulking Chris resigned herself with a melodramatic sigh to waiting. She'd 'see' it eventually and she knew from Jess' expression it was a good one, so...
Monday they were set to 'put down' the demo's and Chris fiddled about setting up the microphones. Three vocal mics. One each at Jess' guitar and piano position and one for her. Separate ones angled close up for the two acoustic guitars. One each for the two instrument amps, one each side for the PA speaker stands and two for background ambient sound. That with the DI's* took almost all 16 tracks on the mixer which was, with a few noted tweaks for individual songs, pre set and ready to go. They had, with a bit of fiddling and experimentation worked it out over the last week. Just the final nerve induced fiddling.
So they set about the basic recordings for the new Jessica Wilson CD tentatively titled, 'Keep it Simple'.
Over the next four days they worked over and re-did each song several times, putting everything onto the hard drive and backing up to CD's. They had already decided to do it all 'live'. No overdubs or add-ons. Only what they could do in a live situation, just the two of them. Vocal and two guitars, or vocal, piano and guitar, depending on the song. By Thursday night they were pretty much done and very happy with what had been put down onto 'disc'.
They were sitting listening to some of the tracks when the doorbell went. Neither heard it. It was only when the familiar figure of Blue appeared at the side window that they realised they had company. He waved at Jess and wondered why she and the other woman looked almost scared at his arrival.
Chris had a sudden flash of fear, which she was sure reflected Jess' reaction to some degree. But with a slight tightness in the belly, she got up, turned the volume down and called him to come around and come on up.
He climbed the steps and smiling glanced between the two women trying to figure the nervous tension coming from them both. Especially the girl closest to him, he nodded to her as be spoke and then focused on Jess.
"Hey love, how ya doin'? Jess. So where's Chris then? I expected..." He stopped as the whole scene suddenly came into focus. Turned and looked closely at the now, even more nervous woman who stood straighter and looked him in the face almost defiantly.
He stared closely at that face for perhaps a minute then let his eyes wander slowly up and down the whole figure. A bemused grin slowly spread over his face as he blew out equally slowly and nodded to himself as much as the others. He stood and waited for long seconds as the woman he now realised was Chris relaxed.
"Ya coulda' said somethin' guys. I only look like a nasty ol' troll. I'm just a big pussy cat really. Ya wound me with this grievous slur on me character." He hoped the ridiculous speech and sorrow-full expression he was doing his best to produce would ease the remaining tension.
Chris exhaled the breath she hadn't realised she was holding as Jess jumped to her feet and with a few steps hugged Blue and whispered a quiet "sorry" in his ear. He winked at her to show he understood and smiled at Chris who now seemed somewhat easier.
"So ladies. I was on me way to meet some mates but I think a coffee and a little chat is in order eh. Up to you of course, but I won't bite and I am a little curious how this happened in the last coupla' weeks. Though I guess it's been percolating a bit longer than that. So white and two thanks Chris love. Jess can start while you do the honours. Unless you don't want... in which case I'll leave ya in peace."
Jess and Chris exchanged a quick glance and nodded to each other, " Sure Nic. Take a seat. Coffee for you Jess, I think I will?" She nodded back again and headed to her seat as Blue spread himself on the lounge and cocked an ear at the still running disc they had dubbed the probable 'for release' tracks onto.
"Sounds good Jess. You two work well. So...?" She outlined how she had 'discovered' Chrissie up to the sitting in the back yard. Chris came back at that point and handing each a coffee sat in the other chair and tucking her bare feet up under her took up the story. Giving Nic the same rough outline that Jess had gotten a week or so earlier.
They all sat sipping cooling coffee as Nic digested what he'd heard. After a few minutes he roused himself and with a smile glanced to Chris and then Jess.
"Ok, that's not a problem. It's your life Chris and I respect the choice and admire your guts in going with it. Appearances to the contrary I am not totally a chauvinist arsehole, just when it suits. So I understand your reticence to open up but I hope we're cool now. I have come across, ah, others like you in the past. Some are fine, some are hopeless parodies, some...well. You seem comfortable and natural with it. I thought Chris was a nice guy and I'm sure Christine will be a nice girl."
He stopped and clapped his hands, "Anyway, the reason I dropped in. I'm meeting a few old mates down Wiseman's Ferry pub. As it's on the way, thought I'd drag you two away from your work and maybe get a few tunes outa ya. There's a duo playing that I know and I figured they wouldn't mind you borrowing the guitar and piano and demo'ing a coupla tunes for old Blue and his friends.
4.
"I was gonna ask Jess. But seeing... How do ya fancy bein' an honorary bitch for the day Chris?" He managed to hold a straight face for a little under a minute as Chris' face reflected surprise and anger and slight shock and general embarrassment. At almost the same time Jess spluttered aloud as she gave up trying to hold the laughter back and walked over to give the confused and slightly hurt Chris a hug. Jess was still laughing as she squeezed her friend in reassurance as she forced a smile.
"Hey, it's alright. You're among friends. This... bastard pulled the same trick on me a year or so back. I almost hit him as he back-pedalled. Apparently that's
what passes for biker humour. Anyone riding double is 'the bitch' or 'sitting in the bitch seat'. Puerile I know but there ya go." She poked her tongue out at Blue and with another light hug returned to her chair.
"Yeah, sorry about that Chris, but I just couldn't resist. But the offer is genuine. I'd like to take you for a ride and show you how great it is. I'll go gently and I do have a helmet for you. This... bossy bitch, can follow in her car. Far too good fer the likes of us commoners." He winked at Jess and turned back to Chris, "So fancy a ride on my baby. Assuming you can bear to wrap your arms around a big smelly ol' rough nut like me. I think you'll enjoy it. I know 'herself' over there did, once she'd finished tearing me a new one. Shrewish is what comes to mind..." He mock ducked as Jess mimed throwing her coffee cup at him.
The momentary hurt had dissolved and Chris smiled at this pair of idiots. He knew Jess was a friend and it seemed Nic was comfortable with 'her', which was a relief.
"Well I have to say I've always liked the idea of bikes if never really getting into the whole scene. What do you think Jess, shall we go with this buffoon and entertain his mates with a couple of songs. They're yours, so it's up to you."
"Sure, why not. I've probably met a couple of these guys before and a little impromptu show gives us a chance to see the reaction to a couple of new ones. So bitch, let's do it huh."
The smile was not forced this time, " Ok bitch. So Nic, what ya got, a Harley?"
Mock outrage lit his features, "Oh wash your mouth out. No, they're fine, but I have an '82 Triumph. Bought it brand new in another life. Come on out and have a look." Both women rolled their eyes at his boyish enthusiasm.
" Men!" both muttered not too quietly through crooked grins. All three cracked up at that point as Chris led the way through the house and out the front door.
Chris walked across to the bike that sat in partial shade. Gleaming chrome, spoked wheels and a glowing dark red fading to black paint job as it seemingly merged with the ribbed vinyl seat. One helmet perched on the upturned end of the handlebar and another tied near the taillight. It was obviously not a new machine and just as obviously meticulously maintained. She smiled as she traced a cursive 'Blue' in white a little back from the fuel cap. The tail of the 'e' curling into a small heart.
With a raised eyebrow and a smile she turned to Nic. "Had to be a woman painted that there." It wasn't really a question. Blue smiled widely.
"Oh yeah, she was that alright. I'll be dreaming of her as I take my last breath. Gorgeous, smart as they come and actually seemed to think I was ok. Amazing. She died of breast cancer 6 years ago. Not even 40, damn, no justice in the world. Still, some great memories, she was a wild bitch." His eyes had softened as he stood reminiscing. With a slight shake he nodded to the "sorry" that came from both women. "Ah well, ancient history. So what ya think. She's beautiful aint she." That wasn't really a question either.
Chris smiled and shook her head as Jess stood back and watched the two of them with a small smile of her own. The slender Chris in black jeans and a faded red singlet top standing beside the taller barrel-chested denim and leather covered Blue. The smattering of grey through his long dark hair he had pulled into a short plait and the almost silver beard. Both were smiling and seemed comfortable in the others presence. 'Good', she hoped they'd be friends.
"Ok Nic. I'll ride with you, but lay off the 'bitch' thing if you don't mind. I know it's a joke but..."
"Hey, no prob. It's probably not funny anyway, more a bad habit I suppose. So, got any boots and a jacket you can put on? It gets a little cool from the wind even if it's warm like today. Ready when you are my lady. Your chariot awaits." He bowed from the waist with a big sweeping gesture and grinned evilly. All three laughed at that as he half sat, leant, on the bike and rolled a smoke. A crooked smile greeted the questioning looks from the two women.
"Every now and then I get the urge. Basically given up, but shit, ya need some vices. And it's tobacco, nothing funny, though just as anti social these days."
Chris and Jess headed inside. "You get your boots and jacket and head on. I'll lock up and follow you down in a few minutes, ok. Enjoy, it really is fun and Blues a good rider. He'll look after you."
"Ok, sure. I'm actually looking forward to it, never been on a bike before." She headed into the bedroom and pulled on some shortie cotton socks and her RM's. Grabbed an old jean jacket from the wardrobe and slung a small shoulder bag bandolier style. She called a, "see you shortly", to Jess and headed out to Blue.
He looked her up and down as she came toward him. The slender figure a little boyish but still feminine. Thick, soft, reddish, shoulder length hair blowing slightly in the breeze. No make up he could see and the eyes hidden behind oval shaped sunnies. He nodded at the outfit and handed her the black open face helmet.
"Yeah, I think you'll be fine. If I didn't know Chris was a guy... Well it suits you. Seems natural. Let's go shall we?" He straddled the seat and settled himself, "Jump on and wrap your arms around me. Try and go with the movement and it'll be smoother. I'll go easy till you seem comfortable and then we'll 'ride' a little. I hope you enjoy it. Ready?"
"Yep. Let's go, I'm looking forward to it."
Blue waited till Chris seemed settled and kicked the starter, the soft rumble unmistakeable as anything other than a motorbike. Eased the clutch and gently pulled out for the 25k cruise down to the ferry. He took it very easy until Chris shifted closer and her grip seemed easier, then he opened up a little and let the bike flow along the road and through the gentle bends. Fifteen minutes later he pulled off and stopped under the trees just past the old pub. There were already another dozen bikes there and a group of perhaps another twenty gathered on the grass two hundred metres down with laughter and general noise wafting up to them.
Chris jumped off pulling her sunnies and the helmet as she did so. Shook out her hair and turned to Blue.
He smiled as he saw the sparkle in her eyes. She grinned and let her eyes roam the scene and then returned her focus to him.
"That was great. Thank you. So what is this baby of yours, are you a tinkerer or is it stock?"
"Ah...it's an '82 Triumph T140E Bonneville 750, 5 speed. Tops out at 180k. Gets a little hairy at that speed though. Saved for 18 months and bought it new when I was 23. Basically stock, but I do 'tinker' a little. In that other life I mentioned I was an electrician. The electrics on these are crap, so I rewired and waterproofed. Switched the carbies for better ones and cut down the front guard a little. Other than that, as was."
"Well, I know nothing about bikes, but I like it. You obviously look after it. Bet you do all the work, don't you?" The wide grin was all the answer needed. He was an, 'interesting' guy, but she liked him.
She smiled and let her gaze wander and take in the scene. There were about 40 people sitting under the side awning with the two groups of bikers sitting, lounging might be more accurate, on two big bench tables to the far end. A small PA with keys and a guitar set up near the building. A couple sitting near the gear waved to Blue who returned it. She guessed they were the muso friends he'd mentioned. A few eyes drifted her way form the group at the end and she felt slightly uneasy at the scrutiny.
Blue noticed the slight tension as a few of the 'guys' directed their gaze her way. There seemed little doubt in his mind that 'her' fitted. He recognised most of the guys and was only worried about a couple. He was surprised to see Jake.
He whispered to Chris, "The guy heading this way. Basically a cool guy, but definitely not one to get on the wrong side of. Jake's the head honcho."
He headed across. The two heavies that shadowed his every move swivelling their eyes to take in the surroundings, and while not following, they missed nothing. Blue would bet that though it was very illegal, both would have a gun, probably automatics, hidden under their jackets. He chose not to mention that.
Chris watched as the tall, dirty-blonde haired guy rose and headed across toward them. As he got close he pushed his sunnies up onto his forehead and lifted Chris right hand to kiss the fingertips softly. His mouth quirked into an almost smile as his pale blue eyed glittered with amusement. He took Blue in a rough hug.
" So how's it goin' brother? Been a while. Not quite your usual chickie. Switchin' out are ya?" The smile got wider at his own humour and he laughed at Blues scowl.
"Hey, don't sweat it dude. Just teasin' ya. Seems like a nice kid, just curious."
Blue took a deep breath and shook his head. "You can be a right shit can't ya Jake. This is Chris, 'she's' a friend, alright. She is also Jess Wilsons guitarist and a damn good one. Jess'll be along soon and maybe give us a few tunes off the new one. So be nice."
Jakes grin got wider as Blue spoke, "Ah, you know me Blue. Life and all it's little quirks amuses me. No harm meant. Sorry if I offended you Chris. What you do with your life is your own business and if Blue here vouches for you... good enough for me. Plus I like Jess. She's a ballsy gal, cute too. "
Chris nodded at the semi apology and watched as his mouth quirked again and he strolled back to his seat. He moved like a stalking cat and left a mild feeling of... unease?, fear?, in his wake.
5.
Her musings were interrupted as Nic dropped an arm across her shoulders and gave a gentle hug, "Sorry about that. Come on let's meet Robin and Pete. It's their gear you'll be using. I've already asked and they're cool. So, as long as you guys are happy..."
He led the way to the couple she had noticed before as they, smiling, watched the approach. They made introductions and Pete showed Chris the gear as Robin and Blue chatted. It was a small JBL rig with an old Roland keyboard and an Ovation shallow bowl-back guitar. Two, battered, Shure '58's on stands for vocals. A simple, but good, setup for a duo. Chris thanked Pete for letting them use the gear, he smiled and handed her the guitar to see if it felt ok. He liked light strings, which was fine with Chris. She might have gone a fraction heavier, but hey... She settled on the stool and ran a few lines to get the feel then switched to chords. The PA was on standby so it was only acoustic, but it sounded and felt fine. Pete nodded as she said so and took it back to the stand.
Blue headed in to get a beer and a wine for Chris and Jess who would be along shortly. He had not long sat on returning when Jess pulled in and parked a hundred metres up and walked down as Chris waved her in. She thanked Blue for the wine, gave Chris a light hug and shook hands with Pete and Robin. They chatted easily for a few minutes until Blue excused himself saying he had to catch up with a few people and would be back in a while.
Chris watched as he made a beeline for one guy. Older, probably mid 50's, with thick silver hair in a pony tail and a patch on his right eye. They grasped right hands tight and pulled each other close to hug with the left arm. They held for over a minute, which definitely got Chris thinking that this guy was someone special. The two men talked for several minutes and repeating the hug, broke as Blue began greeting others, but none with the same emotion.
She was about to return her attention to those close when a skinny guy with dirty long straight brown hair pushed into Blues face and seemingly made some joke, that obviously Blue was not amused by. The tight body language was evident even at a distance. With a visible effort Blue laughed and pushed past to talk to someone else. The skinny guy scowled and made a 'wanking' motion to a pronouncement of some sort that got a few scattered chuckles. Blue paused, but did not turn around. She watched for another minute, then turned to the people she sat with. She noticed Jess grinning at her and then a wink that for some reason got her blushing. That raised a laugh from Jess, as Pete and Robin smiled knowingly.
With the distinct feeling that she was missing something, Chris pointedly ignored them and sipped her wine. All that achieved was to have all three laughing at her. Which just deepened the blush. The others just continued the discussion on equipment and music, ignoring the confused and mentally stumbling Chris. It was another few minutes before Jess jabbed her in the ribs to bring her into the conversation. She smiled and focused on what was being said, still unsure of what it was she had missed.
The conversation flowed and she became animated and comfortable. This was a subject she knew and could talk on. Maybe 10 minutes later Robin and Pete finished their drinks and headed up to switch on and begin the next set. She leant lightly against Jess as they sat and listened as the duo ran through a bunch of popular covers. Nicely done, and easy for the early afternoon crowd. Chris found her thoughts wandering as Jess headed in to get them another glass. The thought intruded that Robin and Pete where nice people and not bad musicians. But it was mechanical, no real emotion or feeling. And that was a shame she thought. Emotion, feeling, that lifted the whole thing... She was roused from her introspection by Robin, as she announced that they had a surprise for the lucky people today. Jessica Wilson and her guitarist Christine Cameron would play a few songs off the soon to be released album...
The whistles and claps that greeted that, as ever, caused goose bumps as Chris followed Jess to the 'stage'. Jess sat and ran her fingers over the keys to get the feel as Chris dropped the strap over her shoulder and strummed a chord. Both fiddled for a minute and made vaguely musical noises as they adjusted and reset things to 'their' ears. Then with a count in from Jess they sailed into 'Why' probably the opener for the new CD. For the next four minutes they concentrated on the plaintive question from an abandoned woman, that ultimately came to 'well screw you' as they hit the final chords and Chris ran through the end break and bent the last note back and forth. It was far from perfect as the exact nuance was lost on the unfamiliar gear. But the crowd seemed happy. And that was a big part of it in the first place.
They ran through 4 other tracks with equally enthusiastic response and then just for the crowd did 'Perfect Imperfection' and a mildly raunchy version of 'Oh Darlin' which got the biker dudes on their feet with raised glasses, clapping and cheering from the rest.
Jess wrapped Chris in a hug as they passed the gear back to Rob and Pete. She had that post show high, even after a short 40 minute set and was thrilled with the response. She pulled Chris close and kissed her on the cheek, " Ooh. I love that. The feeling after a show, even a short one. When the crowd just responds to the music. It's almost sexual." She hugged the taller woman and smiled at Chris' laughter.
They were invited down to join the group in the park area. With Blue as backup they felt fine and agreed. The next hour or so was easy as they mingled and were generally treated well by the group. There were a few women but they maintained a distance for the most part as Jess and Chris chatted to whoever wandered up. Blue kept an eye on them as he caught up with old mates and as the afternoon progressed, relaxed. As did everyone else.
The shadows in the valley were lengthening as the day headed to evening. Chris suddenly felt herself grabbed from behind by a smelly and drunk guy. A moment later she realised it was the skinny, lank haired guy that had baited Blue earlier. Reacting almost instinctively she grabbed his wrist and twisted out and down. This raised a howl and after a moment some sarcastic laughter from the assembled gang. With a flush of fear Chris realised she was in a somewhat precarious position as 'skinny' climbed to his feet a little unsteadily and glared at her.
As she watched his expression went from angry to malevolent.
"Well fuck me, it's a guy. The little poofter girly boy is not up to a bit a fun. Fuckin' peace a shit. Should be put down..." the snick as the knife blade flicked out was easily audible in the sudden hush. Chris braced for a lunge as she focused everything on the slimy bastard in front of her.
She almost missed the enraged growl that came from her right as suddenly a blur of denim and leather slammed a boot into 'skinnies' left knee and as he buckled with a howl, grabbed the right wrist and twisting dropped the knife to the grass a few feet away.
The following moments were a blur as Blue punched, drove an elbow to the throat, slammed 'skinny' to the ground and then reached, stabbing the knife to the hilt in the ground, snapped the blade off. He stood and stepped back as 'skinny' hissed and unsteadily got to his feet with a glint of insanity in his eyes. He was about to lunge when Jake stepped into the path and smiled at him. It was not a smile any sane person would wish to see and Chris shivered as she watched. Blue relaxed and stepped back as Jake nodded to him and turned to 'skinny', "Ah Weasel, what am I gonna do with you. Lets go talk, I've got a party tomorrow night..."
The voice faded as he lead Weasel away and Chris shivered some more as reaction set in. Jess wrapped her in a hug as Blue turned and asked if they were ok. They began to make plans to head home as Blue made a walk through to say goodbye to a few mates.
The sharp crack was a sudden and shocking slap to reality. Jess and Chris both saw Blue snap his head and a spray of blood as the bullet hit him in the throat. They ran forward but were beaten by the silver haired eye-patch guy. As he wrapped a cloth around blues throat and checked whatever you check in that situation the two girls were held back by unseen hands as someone whispered, "let old Patch sort 'im out. He was medic in Vietnam. He knows what 'es doin'."
They stood back and held on to each other for dear life as death hovered over the gathering. It was almost half an hour before the ambulance arrived and loaded Blue in. Jess managed to get a, "Well whoever looked after him till now saved his life. He should be ok." Before they headed off with sirens blaring.
It was another 4 hours before the police finished half-heartedly questioning the gathered witnesses or curious and finally let everyone go. They sat in the car and shivered with after shock as both considered mortality. Chris ran through the sequence as she had turned at the 'crack' to see 'skinny' pointing a... she guessed, cut down rifle. The paramedic had posited to Jess that if it had been other than a small calibre steel jacket... probably a twenty two, well... She had watched almost numb as Skinny had glared and practically danced and then turned at a bark from Jake. The gun was twisted from his grip by one of the minders. It then disappeared.
Both of them jumped as the dirty-blonde haired figure tapped on the glass. Jess reluctantly lowered the window to the pale blue eyes.
"I want you ladies to know. I'll take care of this. Blue is a brother and I look after my friends. We've had our disagreements... You will not be bothered again and I apologise for any upset." He passed a card to each of them. It held a mobile number. Nothing else.
"If either of you ever need anything, contact me..." He nodded and disappeared. The two minders shadowed without a word or sound.
Several hours later they sat at home nursing coffee and taking comfort from each other. Jess had finally managed to get onto the registrar at Royal North Shore and had been assured that 'Nico' was comfortable and should make a full recovery.
That night they shared a bed and neither moved nor pulled away until dawn crept in.
Sometime during the night Blues bike had appeared in the carport, in front of Chris' old Landie.
6.
It was a long quiet stretch of road. The Kenworth semi, with a big steel roo bar fitted up front, idled quietly on the verge. The driver sat up straight as he saw the car lights coming and checked the mirror. Yep, the old Ford ute pulled in behind, right on time. He jumped down and nodded to Jake, who slid from the passenger side of the car seemingly without moving. They passed without a word. It had all been said earlier. He jumped into the back tray of the old car where Jakes two hard eyed associates sat next to a giggling joint toking rat faced guy who seemed oblivious of his surroundings.
'Fuck, how did I get into this?' His thoughts made him nervous so Driver gazed out at the passing bush trying not to think as they cruised about 2k down the road and pulled off. The two hard-cases helped 'rat face' out and handed him a can. He took another pull on the joint and tossed the remnant. Then took a big pull on the can and burped loudly. His hair hung lank as ever and his eyes were bloodshot and even more squinty than normal.
"So where's the fuckin' party. WHERE's the Chick's! Hey, where'd Jake go?"
Hard-case one glanced across with a bored expression and rolled his eyes.
"Won't be a minute Weasel old son. Jake'll be right back. And then we party."
"Oh YEAH, fuckin' A!" 'Weasel' squinted and tried to make out his companions. Both the hard-cases put an arm around his shoulders and led him to the centre of the road. Where he wobbled slightly and giggled again in anticipation. The two just glanced at each other looking bored. They turned their gaze down the road as the sound of an approaching engine got louder and waited, timing it easily. After another 6 seconds they disconnected and with a nod to each other moved to either side of the road.
Jake glanced at the speedo and checked the scene in front. '140k, so much for speed limiting to 100, crooked bastard'. The half smile almost reached his lips. It never got near his eyes. He gazed indifferently down the road in front and nodded to himself. The single figure wavered alone in the centre of the bitumen strip. Another few seconds.
The wet thud just carried into the cabin. Driver scrupulously stared away into the bush. The two hard-cases just watched with bored expressions.
The truck slowed and pulled off a few hundred metres along and Jake hopped down with that effortless grace with which he did everything. A short whistle pulled Drivers gaze back to the ute and the hard-cases indicated the back as they jumped in themselves. Whoever was driving pulled out and cruised down the road, stopping alongside the Kenworth. Jake nodded again as Driver climbed up and settled himself with a shiver. Put it in gear and drove slowly away. He was passed a moment later by the Ute which tooted twice and then accelerated and slowly disappeared. He could make out the three languid figures in the back.
Driver pulled over a moment later, jumped down and lurched to the roadside. He gagged twice and then threw up with a coughing groan. Wiped his mouth and chin and using a knuckle to each, blew and cleared his nostrils. Took a deep ragged breath and climbed back up. After another few minutes when the shivers had subsided he put the truck in gear and drove away. The first chance he got was a coffee stop and a pressure hose wash, in that order.
It took another five minutes before the night sounds returned and the first tentative creature sniffed out whatever the predators had left.
************************************
Two weeks later they were doing an open air show to several hundred when Blue appeared beside the stage. He was helped by the silver haired guy that had almost certainly saved his life. Other than the moniker Patch his name was Steve. Both women gave him, almost, as big a hug as Nic got. He was not unappreciative.
After they ran through the set and had done an encore of covers and then, 'Missing the Feeling' Jess nodded to Chris to take the mic. She vocally stumbled, cleared her throat and then..." A few weeks back the guy that does our sound was shot. Many years ago a guitar hero of mine was shot in the throat, as was Nic. He almost died and came close to losing his playing ability. But he recovered and still makes great music. Nic, our friend, is also recovering and we thank god or whoever. This song was written by that guitarist, Larry Carlton, it's called 'Emotions Wound us So' and this is for Nic, better known to his friends as Blue."
They both pushed the mics away. This was instrument only, no vocal distractions. Jess tinkled the open arpeggios for the lead in as Chris wrapped her right pinky around the volume knob of her Tele. She closed her eyes and let the feeling guide her. Gently rolled and returned the volume knob to approximate the swells and peaks that 'Larry' achieved via a volume pedal. For the next six minutes Chris was lost in the emotion and feeling of the piece as Jess provided the back ground counterpoint. She squeezed and plucked the notes to wring every last tinge of emotion as she tried to reach the ideal that forever remained just beyond... with the last wavering bent note she turned and stared straight into Jess' eyes. They like her own were filled with incipient tears and held far more than could be said in public. Jess flicked a hand to the tech and the lights dropped as though a sudden sunset had struck. Silence was momentary as a roar of approval swept the stage. The two women met mid stage, in darkness, and hugged as though they were entirely alone. Blue smiled from side stage with 'almost' tears running down his face.
- The End -
*
Charts — Rough song outlines with tempo, key, chords and breaks marked. Not as detailed as a manuscript. Sort of muso shorthand.
Clocked — recognised.
Newport — a suburb on the northern beaches of Sydney as are Dee Why and Manly. 'The Sands' is a hotel at Narrabeen (between Newport and Dee Why), once known as 'The Royal Antler' an old stamping ground for Midnight Oil and INXS among others. Coogee is Eastern(city-side) beachfront. Glenorie is outer Nth west.
Yarra Valley — A wine region in central Victoria noted for cool climate wines. The Yarra is a river that wends its way south to the sea at the Victorian capitol, Melbourne.
EQ — Short for equalisation. The knobs on a mixing panel for setting the boost or cut within a defined frequency band range. Low (Bass), Middle and High (Treble). Each is twisted to sweep through the frequency range, boosting or cutting as desired. A good ear and a pinch of magic is desirable here.
D.I. — Direct Input, from instrument or amplifier to the mixing console.
For those interested the 'Home Studio' used by Jess and Chris to record "Jessica Wilson —Keep it Simple :: was A Mackie 16 Channel console and Yamaha 200W power amplifier. Bose 802 speakers, oldies but goodies. TC Electronic Graphic EQ, DBX compressor/limiter, Lexicon reverb and Digital Delay into a Sony Vaio running WinXP Pro using cubase software (Pro Tools is an alternative and possibly more popular).
Mics — Vocal Sennheiser MD431's (sponsor supplied), AKG 460's for the acoustic guitars, Shure SM57's for the amps and PA, AKG C3000's for the ambience
Instruments —
Chris - '64 Telecaster and Gilet custom acoustic. Rivera R55-112 Amp and a 'relatively ancient' Boss pedal-board inherited from 'her' brother.
Pedals(left to right), GE7(graphic), DD-3(Delay), Bluesdriver(Distortion), CE2(Chorus), CS2(compression/Sustain),Power supply and tuner.
Jess - Yamaha CP300 keyboard and G100 Amplifier. Taylor 812CE Grand Concert guitar (all sponsor supplied)
D A'ddario custom light and XL 110 guitar strings
All listed equipment is quality and professional. Often a case of what the user/operator is familiar with and readily available (or perhaps sponsor supplied) rather than what might be the latest and greatest. It's all subjective after all. So so, can sound brilliant when used with skill, feel and emotion. Music is often the same. One gals aria is another's guitar break.
With love
Kristina
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~Late 90's, Sydney Australia~
Honestly he'd let things slide for a year or so. It had been his world for years, the outside interest that held him. The thing that pulled and nudged and brushed up against him wherever he was. Music.
More specifically the guitar and modern pop, rock, blues. Time and place he supposed. An older brother that played and introduced him to all sorts of things kids his age didn't hear often if at all. Eight years difference which might not seem like much but was a lifetime at that age.
His high school years were a waste in many ways but yet he learnt. A heard song led to the what made it, led to the chords to the rhythm, to the melody. And that led to how it all fit, what made it work and how do you.... play it.
An all boys school and while he ostensibly studied music it was really of little interest as the curriculum had it. Still it filled a hole in the schedule and there was some...were? Whatever, pieces that grabbed him, history that spoke. But mostly his attention wavered and wandered.
School was not a place he enjoyed, not anymore.
Yet he did learn, just things not specified and knowledge that while in some ways well above where he needed to be to pass, where it counted he failed, badly.
So it was. He was a student of music and by the time he ah...graduated? Well honestly he couldn't say that. While smart enough he didn't even make the half way mark, A few teachers had taken.. a minute or two to question him. To cajole. To berate.... But a minute or two over years doesn't equate to much.
So it was. A mutual failure and no one to care.
He left and worked. Nine to five jobs that after.. months.. left him... empty. Multiple jobs, late nights, early mornings, no time to think. Just move from one to the other. Mindless. He did it for two years and then sitting at the dining table at home told the parents he'd quit. Dad looked at him quietly and nodded, he'd sort of expected it. Mum was... well she tried to be cheerful but worried.
"What will you do?"
"I'll do something part time and I'll play music. And we'll see." he shrugged. There was more to say but now was not the time. So when will be you gutless jerk?
So he had the basics. Where to start? What do you do to get some performance practice when no one wants a beginner? You need to be part way there when you walk in. So....what....?
He had the guitar, a cheap Takamine Acoustic Electric and the basic knowledge of how to put songs together. The where was tough. Music rag ads and notes on shop boards got no response worth mentioning. So.... the streets, the time honoured...cough...troubadour tradition, begging by song if you were feeling unkind. Skill levels of great variety and fluid apathy and indifference as the barrier. A challenge.
So, gear. He had a guitar. He could play. But... was that enough. Streets, especially busy city streets were noisy places. Everyone was in a hurry and 'beggars' were..... an obstacle on the way to...wherever.
He read various websites on the pitfalls, and problems. The expectations and the realities. Phew, not easy, not at all, and yet.....
"Life is a risk" he muttered to himself, "You could get hit by a bus tomorrow and then where would you be... so to speak." He laughed softly to himself at that bit of looney introspection. Nuttiness will out or something.
So, what do you need fella. Basics. Guitar....check. How to be heard. An Amp? What? Something portable, simple but tough. Sing? Shit, you have to be kidding, but...oh hell, yes probably. Now that complicates things.
Budget? Crap... not a lot. A few hundred. Six at a stretch. He browsed he asked he watched he pondered. He asked a lot of bloody questions and pestered a few staff at a couple of shops that he'd decided had decent prices and... didn't call you dude. Polite and pleasant rather than surly and black, clothing that is, skin didn't matter.
Funny in a sort of vaguely obscure way how hard that was to work as a criteria.
But he did..... so...Amp a light and good and loud enough Roland Street Cube. Quality and tough. Red or black? Hah, what ya got, but.... Now microphone. Stand and mic...hmm, static, boring... but probably simpler and cheaper, but he asked...what were the options? Move, rather than stand. A headset. Shit, lets vogue or something equally ridiculous. But..... a headset, yeah maybe. Shure? AT? Sennheiser? How much?
So the nice man in the music shop smiled and searched and yes... the Amp, the mic the ….ah crap the power supply?? But yes, Rechargeables. The guitar the mic pack the Amp, yep all 9 volts or double A's. So.... check the budget, work it out. Yes, you can do this....
Amp? Yes, do that. The man nodded and paused. The Mic? Yep go the AKG.. with the belt pack. The man nodded again and made a call. Time.
He sighed, "Okay, a few weeks that gives me time to work up some songs." The grin was pensive but... straightening he grinned and nodded back.
"Thanks, see you in a couple of weeks. I'll be in the shed."
The man laughed and glanced to the screen and rattled of the number to double check. Yep, that's the one and he left.
So...bloody practice. Work. Sigh, suffer for your... 'art', you wanker. He chuckled quietly to himself and ran that chord change again, sang the notes and worked the progressions and ran the scales out and back. Up and down.
Make the playing automatic so you can sing on top and maybe it will connect. Maybe you cause a few to pause and listen. To think and maybe feel. To connect a memory perhaps. Toss a coin... or a note.
He worked and struggled and swore. But after a few months he had a setlist. Um, a songlist, a bunch of things he could play and move and sing and work and hopefully pull a dollar or two. Standards, pop and rock, a few folkie things, some variations on the theme. Twenty, forty, sixty songs of mixed genres, stuff he could stand to play and fiddle the order and the tempo and the feel. Who the fuck was 'traditional' anyway? They must make a shit load in royalties.
He explored and sussed the competition, checked the spots and the people flow.
So, let's give this a go huh. Bloody hell, nerves are a bastard. Now there's an insight you dozey prick.
No... enough coffee, pissing in a bottle in the Pitt Street Mall is probably frowned upon. Income disruptive at the least. Shit should have sussed where the nearest public loo was. I guess there's always McDonalds or the nearest pub even if they frown at the duffle bag and guitar case. Railway station? Crap, you have to go past the ticket barrier. Strap a bag to your bloody leg? More bloody expense.. but no thanks. McDonalds I guess... hey maybe the food courts in the centres? Yeah.
Set up, seed the case, fifteen dollars broken into assorted change, so any of that size and that, up to... made it easy to see if you made anything. Then you had to watch as sometimes people dropped in and took at the same time. First week he made thirty seven dollars and on two days lost four and six.
The streets are no place for the faint of heart eh. Or the gullible and slow. Jeezus, people on mass are a cold thing. Maybe, sometimes... settle....
Weeks, a month..or two... and he learned and improved and now he could read the street and the flow. Knew what songs to play when and when to move and walk and...thank god he wasn't tied to a Mic stand... play the soppy love song or the folk or pop standard. James Taylor or Creedence or Clapton or Bonnie Raitt or Coldplay or Waltzing Matilda.... change the pace and the style. Pull out the classic Zep or JoJo Zep outa Melbourne or Summerrrtime... or whatever.
Anything he knew or could wing if someone called out. Hear the opening, get the key, know the chords and run with it. Simple... cough.... well not that hard really but you had to work to get there and he had. Almost 5 years now if you looked at it that way. Graduated suma cum what the fuck street bum musician. Hey beats working for a living, except he might have to if the punters, the great unwashed yuppie passers by didn't dip into the pocket or purse just a little.... okay a fair bit more.
Work it girl...err guy. Make them love you. Make them pause and drop.
More weeks, and they did slowly start to dip some more. Thirty a day, fifty, eighty... an hour here a couple there, move it in a loose circle around the city centre. Don't wear out the welcome, keep it pleasant. Don't bad mouth the arseholes. Make friends with the shopkeepers.. if you could. Three...four hundred a week... modest, but an income. Beats workin' for a livin' beee-itch. Hah, well you could be sitting at a damn desk in some airconditioned shithole of a cubicle. Christ count ya bloody blessings.
Expenses... shit... strings, twice a week, by in triples at a discount, makes it twenty per. Train fare. Lunch... if you make friends you can get discounts, nice...he'd even had a few free hair trims. Not to mention coffees, had to watch the bloody coffee though, that was a weakness and time out to break down and move if the crowd was hot really sucked. But bladder waits for no loo, or something. Ya gotta go when ya gotta go, the alternative could get damn embarrassing. Thankfully...
Then there was the wardrobe. Look sorta loose and cool and vaguely Muso-ish in a slightly androgynous way so you keep your sanity such as it is...er was.. might have been once upon a time.... Whatever, it's all relative. Or something.
Jeans mostly, or loose baggie combats, just no bloody camo patterns. Cushioned shoes, basketball type for support and comfort. Hours on your damn feet with a guitar and singing and smiling gave ya aches....damn, imagine doing it in heels. Singlet tops that sort of covered the buds, loose shirts in colours and a scarf here and there. Not too girly mostly, but.... A cap or hat if out in the sun, sometimes you had to. Hah, and you thought smiling at customers was tough. Water bottle, wallet keys, spare chords, strings, tuner..duffle bag with shoulder strap for quick move when nec. Guitar in one hand, duffel on the other shoulder for balance, quick getaway. Bloody rangers, some were cool, some worked for Goering. Fines he didn't bloody need.
So.... there he was, that day...
A nice crowd, a working crowd. About thirty with stragglers floating in and out at the back. Enough stepping up and tossing a coin... even the odd small note. Always nod and smile, even five cents.... that's ennn-terrr–tainn-ment. Just for fun he segued into the old Benson thing 'on Broadway' and shuffled into the vocal. One or two smiled and a few more coins bounced into the case.
Smiled and joked and moved and grinned.
"Ah thank you my lovely." She giggled as did her friend. He did his best not to roll his eyes, hey she was just a kid she can giggle. Just cause you can't... a kid yeah, right. She must be what... two.. three years younger than you. Yeah, but there's years and there's years aint there....
"Can you play Madonna?" , he mimed horror and shuddered, swell at least she laughed.
"Okay..." she looked at her friend and frowned, got a raised eyebrow and a giggle in response and turned back pulling a five from her small shoulder bag. "Okay, how 'bout the Beatles then, they're old.. like you..." She laughed and waved the note.
"Ah darlin' ya wound me, old is it." The rough Irish accent got a laugh. "Yeah well my Liverpudlian is crap okay." His eyes roamed and noted the smiles and interest. Cool keep it up girls.
With a bow he eased into 'Yesterday' and as he sang and wove softly more coins tinked and the crowd grew a little. Smiles and the girls hugged each other and giggled and as he finished she dropped the note into the case.
He bowed, "Your name wouldn't be Michelle would it love?" He shrugged at the rough Liverpool accent and smiled and the crowd returned it.
~~Michelle ma belle... ~ more coins and this was cool and felt good. Finished and strummed a couple of chords hard and fast before....
Then some raised voices in the background. Harsh male, mocking. The object of the mockery turned and moved left to avoid and they the three of them formed up and blocked escape. Not too overt and nasty, almost subtle in a street tough sort of way.
So, she paused and looked and moved into the small crowd. Close in to the centre space. The girls shifted and looked and then giggled again. They and the crowd shifted slightly. Maybe it was catching. She was tall and a little gawky and the slight trace of beard shadow....
The taunters stood smirking and loose at the rear. "Ya know Lola then?" The three of them laughed and the mood shifted as a nervous ripple spread.
Crap
"Naw, we're doin' Beatles stuff juss' now. I have one might just fit." My best McCartney, hey I didn't say it was great, but not too bad.
The small crowd shifted and the taunters smirked, the tauntee looked like she'd been punctured somewhere, a slow leak.
"Hey there love, give us a smile then eh." I grabbed her left hand and lifted it, her eyes followed slowly. I mouthed... trust me...
She smiled weakly and shifted and then stood straighter. I let go her hand and strummed a few chords.
" Now then, where were we.... oh yes, the Beatles, right then. One for the lady here." I strummed the opening and moved and looked at the crowd and smiled and winked and tsked at the scowls in back. And they loosened up. The girls relaxed and so did the crowd.....
" Oh oh Darlin... please believe me... I'll never do you no harm..... believe me when I tell you.... " he moved and dipped and sang and winked and smiled. And the crowd relaxed and the snotty bastards at the back scowled and muttered and left.
Phew
More coins and another couple of notes, the girls clapped and she stood straight and smiled as she tossed a coin of her own.
Finished with a flourish and a bow. Lifted her hand and kissed the back with a wink, "..there ya go Darlin' all yours."
She smiled at that and a few more soft claps. And a few more coins. Every bit helps. He bowed in acknowledgement, raised her hand again and then let it go gently.
She reached out and took his, "Thank you, you have no idea.... just, thanks." She looked just a pinch misty and to be honest he felt his eyes moisten too and smiled wide to hide it.
"You're quite welcome.... what's your name?"
"Maureen." she looked down and took a breath, then softly, " yes, Maureen" and she smiled wide and stood straight. "and you?"
There was a pause and he leant in a little..... "Kristina, pleased to... meet you."
There was a momentary hush and a 'pregnant' pause, then some soft chuckles followed by a few more coins and some quiet applause.
He rolled his eyes and smiled ruefully at Maureen, "Ooops, bloody microphone." Blushed and winked.
~~ Breve~~
- a musical pause — till another day. Yeah well, so... it's a longish pause.
I have I'll admit taken a liberty or two here. Some of the gear quoted did not come to be for some years and the personal history has been...messed with, but that is the 'authors' conceit if you like. We take bleedin' liberties. So.....
Comments, questions or criticisms welcome.
By Kristina.L.S.
It's a curious thing how a friendship can develop, grow from nothing. Something small you say or do... or in this case, write... that affects or touches someone. No rhyme or reason to it really and you can never ..'do it' .. if you try, it just has to evolve on its own. Grow from that small seed and become something... or not. And if it does it may be amongst the most precious things you can ever have, a friend, someone that gets you and doesn't judge too much and … lets you be you despite their own fears and worries. Listens to your whining without shouting and generally backs you up. Perhaps ascribes strength or knowledge that you can't, because … well .. 'you' .. know what a jerk you are really and strong... pah. They become part of a loose handful that are now your family as those that might have been are not any more. More precious perhaps because of that.
So it was a nice surprise to be sitting on the lounge at home, Saturday night...what a party animal huh... watching a pommy serial about a lady soldier in Afghan. Not bad really, she was pretty cool in a slightly daffy way and tougher than you might think.
Anyway... Ten'ish and my phone rings... I glance at it curiously as that doesn't happen that much.. especially not at night and on a Saturday, 'Sal Home' it read and a little smile crept across my face. Tried to work out, what time is it there, early afternoon I think. Swiped a couple of times...ack, why does one swipe never do it... "Hey hon, how's things in sunny London...."
We chatted for an hour or two...cough, you know, girls and phones.... I guess it was one of those things where we didn't have many people we could chat to and just let it hang out.
In 'her' case circumstance, timing history Sally had never been quite able to be 'herself'. So there she was a pretty successful legal type working throughout Europe and Asia as a hard case negotiator for companies of all sorts. There was always that 'hidden' sadness that her life was not quite full, or perhaps correct. Even though married for many years and with a son. That girl inside had never left. Regrets and fears of loss if... so she was still Simon. But to me she 'was' Sally, easy peasy as they say.
We'd 'met' about Four years ago after I'd posted a thing on one of those writing sites. Stories about guys being girls in all sorts of ways, some unpleasant some fantastic in the true sense, some wonderful and uplifting and some grittier and real if not always pretty. I'd written a couple of things over the months since I'd found the place, but this one was different. Sort of autobiographical, slightly dark, but it was part of my life. I'd had a comment that was a little..ah... disparaging. Out of the blue I got an email. Thanking me for posting and praising my courage. Bemused at being called brave I wrote back.
Sal later told me that it amazed her that I had responded and thus started a correspondence. We learnt of each others life and slowly opened up; histories and fears and joys and failures. She told me of her travels and some of the 'quirks' of her clients and the 'joys' of assorted international legal systems. My mundanity and occasional slapdown. Family and such though in my case it was no longer a 'blood' one but a chosen one, people I'd 'met' and knew and trusted and yes... loved. A handful, but how many do you need to hold you even long distance when you get a kicking from the world at large. A kind word by email can mean a lot.
After some life 'moments' I had gone rogue... err, girl almost ten years back and it had cost me plenty, but hey, I was me and basically happy. Scrimping and saving, docs and therapists and, all that to 'present properly' sigh. Just for the record.. I hate electrolysis and 'group' is almost as bad. Now working as Lyn finally being 'complete' and if waitress had never been my life's ambition it beat the hell out of various alternatives. So.. the brave thing? Well... I had done what she had feared to. Not the same I always thought but I did get it and it didn't matter, she became 'family' too and maybe that was something that mattered to her.
Well I know it mattered and if there was a pinch of vicarious living in there that was cool too. Time and place and such I could and did she was stuck and didn't. So it goes, choices and timing. Life's a bitch, well I am now, hah. You have to poke a tongue out at the world now n then I reckon.
Oh yeah... the phone call, reminiscence mode off, snort..... funny how memory works, a few seconds of flashing thoughts to cover years.
"So Lynda my love, I'm in town down your way next week and will be free on Saturday. Wondered if you fancied catching up, you know a chance to dress posh and indulge in a bit of girl time outside work. Get waited on for a change eh."
I coughed a little laugh, "Sally my dear I would love too, but I'm not cheap, bring your Black Amex won't you."
"Bah, I'm just a middle aged working stiff, a regular Mastercard will have to do."
"Oh bugger, so no Royal love story then huh, I'm pouting. Not sure I could do that whole royal thing though so maybe for the best. But dear me.... I have nuffin to wear...."
"I'm sure you'll manage, I've seen a few pics of you dolled up. So just dress up a little you tart, I will not be seen with some floozy. I can't have my rep sullied by a ditsy trannie acting out a variation of the Pretty Woman shopping scene, the grapevine would have conniptions."
Laughter bubbled across the line.
"Oh sure, you probably own that joint you work for by now. Senior partner and all that. You n Mrs Clooney."
"Not at all, she's in a different line, damn good though and you watch too much American telly, I'm a silk in a chambers and don't forget it you snotty child. Actually, I left some months back, so I'm a free agent. Sublet chambers in another firms rooms. Don't worry I have plenty of work, I can still afford to give my favourite Sydneysider a night on the town. Tell you about it when I see you."
Her slight English accent sounded amused so I knew she wasn't upset by things. Wow twenty years or more... wonder what happened.
"So my dear I will be in the Park Hyatt under the Bridge there and I have Bennelong booked for Saturday night at Seven thirty, we can stroll around the Quay and watch tongues loll at our gorgeousness. I was going to do ARIA but I know Matt is out of town whereas Mr Gilmore is in house at present. "
"Bloody hell, okay I'm tuggin' my forelock your ladyship. Matt is it, whoo weee, Hyatt and Bennelong right you are, I'll try not to dribble or swear too much. I promise not to slurp my wine but you will have to show me which fork to use." This said with a put on Eliza Doolittle accent.
"Quite right too, no dribbling or slurping and swearing in genteel feminine style only. What was it...move yer bloomin' arse.. hah. Forks, well buggered if I know, just wing it."
We both laughed at that.
"Okay see you in the Hyatt bar next Saturday about Five okay. You can do classy just fine, don't worry about it."
"Sure, cough cough, classy bloke in dress, standard Hyatt fare I'm sure. No worries."
"None of that you cheeky cow, you'll be fine, gotta go, see you then."
There was a slight growl in that line that made me smile. Shrug, well it'll be an experience anyway. She'd left her firm... sorry chambers, my my, that was a surprise, I wonder why.
The following Wednesday just as I got home my phone rang, a mobile number I didn't recognise. I debated answering as a Super come Insurance type had been bugging me lately, but this was a different number, well the first few were anyway.
"Hello", said just a little tentatively.
"Hi there Lynda my love, how are you."
"Oh... Sally, didn't recognise the number. You got a new one then and a local too by the looks."
"Yes my dear, I am a new customer to that large Oz Telco conglomerate that everyone whinges about but has the best network, thus captures the biggest chunk of the market. So this is my new on the move contact now. All flash and modern too, it's probably smarter than me."
"Oh I doubt that... but... local..? You starting a colonies branch then?"
"In a manner of speaking. The house in London is on the market, should sell no problem and I am now the owner of a large and slightly overpriced apartment in Brisbane on the river. I'll give you the address when I see you, perhaps a tour some day too. That would be nice."
"Okay... uh, wow so you've shifted completely. I imagine there's a bit of story in all that so we shall certainly have something to talk about. Kept that bloody quiet you bitch. Not even sure what to ask just now."
"Really dear since when did we lack something to talk about. I have the phone bills to prove it." She chuckled gently and I could not help but laugh. "Never fear, all shall become clear. It was a good move for me, so don't worry."
"Okay if you say so.. that's good... and the old tyranny of 'long distance' huh, send me the bill you bloody cheapskate."
"Hah, you couldn't afford them my dear. I on the other hand am an unscrupulous overpriced legal type and thus can. But we shall be closer from now on so you can ring me on occasion. Most of my work these days is in Asia; Hong Kong, KL or Singapore primarily.. plus my son lives in Brisbane... so..."
Grinning and shaking my head I replied, "Ohh...Kay, that makes sense but I am really intrigued now. You might not be totally happy with life but you loved that job and I thought the firm you were part of.... I don't get it."
"Well my dear, things change. Events over the last year or two caused me to reflect." There was minor pause, a muttered few words off phone.
"Sorry my dear, I have to go and do some follow up with my lot on this case. Hopefully we can tie it up tomorrow. A Malaysian bunch trying to plump up a done deal on some South Coast Dairy property to my Shanghai client is out of options, they will have to settle."
"Pah, more foreign exploiters of the poor local farmer, you imperialist... ah enabler... bugger, couldn't think of a suitable insult." I knew she could tell I was joking by the almost laugh in my voice.
"Oh yes indeed, as I said, overpriced and unscrupulous and do add very clever. They're screwed." she chuckled evilly. "Besides it pays my bills and allows me to take a weekend and meet up with my favourite adopted daughter, so see you Saturday my dear.. " ...off to the side she spoke to someone else, 'yes coming in now'... " I have to run, see you at five-ish in the bar."
"Yes mother dear, I'll see you then, no way will I miss this, I won't sleep in the meantime ... oh and I remember, posh up, hell the bar bill for a few glasses of wine in that joint will probably be more than my whole outfit."
"Oh stop pouting, nothing but the best my girl, I'm sure you will look lovely" , laughing as she responded, " see you then, bye." The screen flicked and that little phone symbol faded off.
Well damn hon, I muttered to myself looking at the blank screen of my phone... I have no idea what you're up to but it sounds like a whole lot of changes all of a sudden.
Huh... oh the mother thing, Sally...well okay, Simon was in 'her' early Fifties to my early Thirties with her son a few years younger. So after a little while and we got to know one another she'd claimed me as a surrogate daughter of sorts. Something that made me feel pretty good to be honest. Hey I got a younger brother, that I'd never met.. an Optometrist and recently married. Long way to go for glasses though... hah. Still, to have someone I loved and trusted 'adopt' me like that meant quite a bit. I did sorta think though that Mad Auntie suited her better. Ya daft 'bitch', what is going on? Hey... maybe I get to play mad auntie some time in the future... now there's a thought.. eek.
Late Winter in Sydney which meant mild days mostly with coolish nights but we almost never had any of that pesky white stuff to mess about with, you know snow. Hell if we had more than the odd little flourish of it here the world was probably about to end. So as things went, pretty easy on the dressing front.
So of course I went with a sensible outfit with an eye to the style.. hey I was told posh okay. Who am I to argue... and of course when you get the chance....
Clean undies natch, just in case of that wayward bus. So knickers and bra, plain old white this time out, so it goes. A new cream shift style dress, crew neck sleeveless with an A line slightly flared skirt a bit below the knee. Brush stroke flowers in black and fuschia scattered over. Some smokey almost black hose, pair of 2 inch heel pumps, soft black. Hell, I'd love 4 inchers but when you're my height not whacking the head on the door frame takes precedence. Not a good look and it hurt. Makeup neat and not too OTT, smokey eyes, nails and lips in a plum, well it was Fuschia-ish enough for me. Black smallish shoulder bag and a brushed cotton Charcoal Trench over the outside, the flared 'skirt' of left enough of the dress skirt showing for nice contrast. Worn open of course the belt tied at the back. There is a limit to function over style you know. It did add enough warmth for the chill air and looked cool which was mostly the point. Brush the just past shoulder length hair, put in the dangly silver earrings. Quick spritz of 'Beautiful' and good to go. It is nice to dress up now n then..... Taaaxxi.....
It was just on quarter past five when I was dropped outside. Gotta lurve traffic. Bang goes Thirty of my sixty cash, good thing Sals paying tonight. Phew..deep breath, this is posher than I usually manage, hell, posher than I've ever managed. But hey, I'm worth it, I think that's an ad campaign by someone. Just hope the doorman doesn't brush me.. nah, they're too polite these days unless you're really out there... Nice, a little nod and wave and a point the way to the bar... cool...
Wandered down a short corridor and across in front of a staircase from above. Nice open area with views out to a small courtyard and across the Harbour. I strolled slowly along the length of the bar and scanned the room. No real crowd, a few tables and groups all chatting and intent on themselves. The barman glanced my way and went back to stacking cool to front and warm to back in a fridge.
Hmm, no Simon as I ran my eye back across the room taking a little longer this time, the only person on their own was a woman to the back near the windows looking North rather than the 'posh' views East to the Opera House. She was nicely dressed in a soft black trouser suit and pale blue silk blouse, nice hair and she smiled as I looked at her.
Picking up her glass she lifted it my way then stood with her left hand out open to the side. My eyes ran back across the bar and returned to her as she smiled widely and then laughed.
I refuse to admit my jaw dropped, 'goldfished' as some might say. Nope didn't happen. I will admit to mouthing audibly.. " You Fucking Bitch." as I walked toward her. The smile got wider as she put her glass down and widened her arms. As I got close enough and completely composed, yeah right, she laughed again.
"Come on then Lyn dear, give your Auntie Sal a hug."
Which of course I did and held on for a minute or two wondering where the big white rabbit was and who exactly was Alice. As we let go and looked at each other there were tears in her eyes. I spoke first.
"I say again.. you fucking bitch, you never said a bloody word. That's... I dunno, but damn. You may need to push back dinner, several drinks and a bit of talk is in order."
"I do apologise my dear and it was a little rude of me not to say anything over the last year and I suppose to spring it on you like this. I hope you'll forgive me. A drink first and then yes we will talk of course. What will you have?"
"I'm tempted to go a triple scotch or maybe a posh bottle of bubbles but a glass of Riesling will do thanks."
"Right you are my dear."
I watched as she strolled to the bar and ordered from the smiling barman who poured efficiently and smoothly. Took a little more notice as she strolled back and everything I saw said successful modern business woman. Nice suit, a light wool probably, high soft black pumps with dark hose, pearl drops in each ear a single string around her throat the open silk blouse. Hair carefully but simply styled and just sitting on her shoulders a few strands of grey visible in the dark brown. Makeup neat and understated and a nice manicure with soft Rose colour. Elegant, no question.
She handed me my glass as I noted the tears had cleared and she was smiling again, sat and swivelled on the stool to face me.
"Well... what do you think?" a small flourish of the hands looking completely feminine.
"You're still a fucking bitch but you look terrific, elegant and stylish and maybe I hate you."
She laughed gently, "No you don't and thank you."
"No I don't and you're welcome. So talk.. this is... a surprise."
She raised her glass and sipped as I saluted and took a sip of mine then glanced at the glass... nice. And waited.
"Well my dear, how is it I sit here with you like this. You know well my thoughts on who I am and why to date that was not the public reality." I nodded sipping gently.
"After Elizabeth died I was at loose ends emotionally. You know how dealing with such can ... mess you about, cancer and the inevitable is not much fun. Anyway, you know all that. Short version is I began to ah, express my feminine side a little more here and there at home and then at work. It was noticed."
"I imagine that was a load of laughs, you legal types can be a stiff arsed lot."
"Quite, perhaps more in London than here, but maybe not. Anyway my small dalliances with makeup and certain clothing, blouses and more feminine suits prompted a gentle approach that I needed to maintain the standards of the chambers."
She paused and took a long sip obviously running through a memory. I nodded and sipped myself just watching and saying nothing, trying to picture that scene and smiling a little.
"None of that was a surprise but my staff were. I am the only QC in chambers that had an all female staff, clerks and solicitors, they were wonderfully loyal." I raised an eyebrow at that and Sally smiled.
"Ah no, that was not the surprise, I was sure they would be loyal, I pick well and carefully." She paused and took a sip with a smile.
"No, the surprise, though really why it should have been I can't say now. They of course knew almost immediately that I was dressing a little more femininely and didn't bat an eyelid. The surprise was that they all had pondered on my nature over time, my thoughtful understanding of the female as one put it. I can tell you my dear and I think you know, that made me cry and they applauded my tears."
She teared up a little as she spoke and I smiled, reaching to hold her left hand. Yes I got that one okay.
"It was then and there that I decided to stop hiding and become Sally for real. Of course I had to tell my son, which I feared, though he was rather sanguine when I did so. Almost casual, just laughed over the phone and told me he had wondered about me on occasion himself. Damn, you can't keep a secret from people anymore it seems. Makes all the angst seem faintly ridiculous."
She grinned at that and took another sip, noted that her glass was empty and with a glance to mine which was half full and I shook my head, she stood and headed for the bar.
I ran through what she had told me, an edited version I was sure, but fair enough for now. I suspected things were not quite so rosy at some point though, I mean she was here, seemingly permanently. I wondered at that as she strolled back.
"I can see the wheels turning my dear, you are no fool. Of course things were not always quite so pleasant. I did the rounds of assorted Therapist types and Doctors to see what was what and so on. I shan't go into that, you know it all I'm sure. My fellow silks were less than impressed with my decision when I... ah, came out to them some months later as things became more obvious. Curious expression that, coming out. Suffice to say they made things very difficult. I stuck it out for as long as needed, finding my girls good positions and then quit the chambers. It was surprisingly easy."
"Okay I think your glossing a little but that's okay we'll get to it eventually. So umm.... " I waved my hands up and down in front of her and blushed. " So where are you so to speak."
Laughing at my slight embarrassment she grinned, " I have been on hormones now for just over a year. My breasts are my own and came on rather nicely." It was her turn to blush a little. "It was a little.. odd, going through a sort of puberty at my age and the, sensitivity was awkward at times. Wonderful though I will say." She grinned and poked her chest forward, "A full B cup in just over a year, probably as far as I shall go, which I am quite happy with. Seems I came on faster than most. I know it took you somewhat longer. My body has shifted a little, but as yet no surgery. That will come but probably another six months or so."
"Hmmpphh" I groused to a sheepish grin from Sally and then I grinned myself. " Yeah it did take a while but I'm a long skinny thing, it sorta goes with the territory. I won't hold it against you."
"So here I am. I tidied up as needed in the UK. Sorted my documentation, which is not nearly so complex these days as it was. Moved lock stock and lingerie to Brisbane and set up office. I still have some work back there so shall be back and forth. But here I am to stay. I have enough work, live comfortably..." She paused and with a small shake of the head, grinned at me again with a tear in her eye.
"You inspired me my dear. I always said you were brave although you poo poo'd it every time. I still don't know if I would have done this if not for you so I am eternally grateful. Thank you for being my friend and my child in spirit."
Oh crap, tears filled my own eyes and I blinked big time for a second or two.
"Oh piss off ya silly old moo, I didn't do nuffin, and brave, don't make me laugh, I'm just a perverse thing that likes to mess with people a bit. Umm, it is what it is, brave has nothing to do with anything." I fell silent not knowing quite what to say.
Sally smiled and shook her head gently,"I know better, so allow me my beliefs. It takes courage, even for the likes of myself. Easier perhaps when you can financially look after things without problem. You had it a little tougher."
She grinned and leant forward to give me small hug, "Another glass I think, I know I need one."
I waited till she returned and we drank and chatted. She told several slightly amusing anecdotes of the bemused and shocked encounters of her fellow professionals to this extraordinary transformation in their midst. A few slight sadness tinged ones as well, but then how would it be otherwise. It aint ever easy.
A while later, we nodded and rose. A quick visit to the loo... together, hah that was slightly weird for a moment.
"So my dear, shall we stroll around the Quay to Mr Gilmores place of business. I feel the need to eat well and spoil you a little." She offered her arm and I curtseyed gently and threaded mine through hers. With a nod to the barman we strolled out into the evening and off to one of the better restaurants in town.
"Does he do fish n chips then this Gilmore bloke. I'm bloody starving"
She stopped dead for a moment then laughed aloud, " The best bloody fish n chips you ever had I wager, You snotty child."
Laughing we wandered enjoying the cool air and people watching as we were in turn. Sometimes things work out just fine, good to know. Here's hoping.
( Matt Moran and Peter Gilmore are two of the most highly rated Chefs in Sydney or Australia for that matter. Known internationally and part of that relatively modern sensation the celebrity chef. Both seem reasonably unaffected, thankfully )
Any thoughts, comments or questions welcome, I'm not too precious, though answers might be harder to come by.
This little thing was inspired, if that's the word, by a recent get together with 'Sally'. I hope she approves and if I'm a little rusty, like old guitar strings left on too long, maybe it stands up okay. Might even try to finish a few things that have been sitting about in a dusty corner of my Stories file for a few years.
For Sally and all those in a similar position, a modern 'fairy tale' of sorts. Cheers.
Kristina
By Kristina L.S.
No resemblance to reality should be inferred or expected.
Copyright KLS 2010.
By Kristina.L.S.
Part One... Blossom... def... bloom, unfold.
It was a chilly and drizzly early Winters day which didn't really fit her mood. Sure she was a little sad but basically her thoughts spun on the idea of freedom. She could not in all honesty say she was sorry he'd died, not at all, though she probably would have the odd moment where she would think fondly of him. Especially as she was his sole heir and the pathetic old queen was damn rich. Not BRW rich list rich, but after 20 mill who's counting. Some might she guessed, but it was enough for her.
A small hiccup sounded as she bit down on a laugh at the image she must present. The grieving young widow, except she wasn't grieving or widow and she wasn't really a she, though that was near enough now. The black ensemble, below the knee dress, stockings and heels, careful makeup. The hooded Issey Miyake cashmere coat. She eschewed a brolly though the dozen or so mourners mostly had them. Lifting her face to the cool mist she stared into the grey feeling the droplets on her eyes and skin and smiled slightly. Most here had known him as one thing and thought her to be something other than she was. Two men to her left knew much more.
The coat hood lay back on her shoulders and droplets glistened on her glossy dark brown hair and the rich fabric as she nodded to the few whispered condolences and waited. Which one she wondered and turned to face them, the last two at the grave side. Here to see off 'Solicitor'.
The taller one, 'Judge', aristocratic of bearing, the perfect tailored suit and styled silver grey hair. Craggy features that looked stern and serious even when he smiled. His smiles still chilled her years later... and those cold grey blue eyes that held no hint of warmth. How did no one see she wondered not for the first time and shrugged at the pointlessness of reminiscing and whatif's. What is, is and what will be...well. The second, 'Inspector', not as tall or as stylish, though seemingly warmer on the surface and with a very useful little glint in his warmer blues, coupled with a soft and gentle manner. Ah he had fooled her at first, but he too was a monster, two of many. Another memory flitted in, she was sitting on the lounge some years back watching a movie with Mr Wilkie, it was 'Aliens' and the little girl had stated very matter of fact to Ripley... people say there aren't really monsters, but there are aren't there... and she had burst out laughing and could not stop as tears of mirth ran down her face. Mr Wilkie had got in a huff as she shook her head and refused to explain and just laughed until finally he had turned it off and left her there, walking out as she kept laughing almost hysterically as she brushed absently at remembered bruises and past welts.
Fear stroked her as these two reptiles looked her up and down and she shivered and smiled, times and people change don't they. Well she had, others she doubted could or would. A small shiver crawled up her spine as their eyes crawled over her and she smiled slightly at the perverse pleasure it gave her. Like brushing through spider webs in the dark. Which one?
Judge stepped forward... ah, might have known... his voice just above a whisper still cut through her like a razor and as the shivers grew so did her smile.
"Well my dear, look at you, a picture of dutiful mourning." His expression didn't change though she could feel the sneer.
" I really don't understand why Robert kept you all these years. Not to mention indulge your whims. Still he always was a little weak. I don't see the attraction myself but be that as it may. He kept the faith with the group and we... allowed his indulgence. So my dear you may do as you will and live your life quite comfortably I believe. Don't be a fool and we will ignore you, I'm sure you understand. "
She stretched and let a small moan escape her lips as the terror washed over her, he mistook it's meaning of course as he stopped almost against her. His right hand pressed against her dress and cupped the last remnant of who she had been.
"No I don't really see the attraction, still it could be an interesting diversion. Sadly that loss of innocence is irreversible and now neither one thing or the other... tsk, Robert should have disposed of you years ago " he made a small sound like a cough and his face showed his contempt as his hand squeezed and a small cruel smile twisted his face and lit a flame in those eyes.
Nothing showed on her face as he increased the pressure and her right hand lifted slowly to his left that rested on her arm in apparent sympathy. Without any change of expression she gripped his pinky and wrenched up and out, smiling as a squeal of pain and outrage greeted her. She released his hand and her arm continued its arc and the edge of her elbow smashed the bridge of his nose, dropping him stunned to the ground at her feet. She stepped back to avoid getting blood on her coat and turned to face 'Inspector' who had begun to move.
Raising a finger in a stop gesture she flicked a DVD to him. He caught it and glanced at the 'post it' stuck on the front. It read.. touch me this goes to every editor and Current Affairs producer in Sydney. He glanced back at her and as she had guessed he would, stuck it in his jacket pocket and kept coming. The raised compact pistol with the long cylinder on its pointy end stopped him. She smiled again and shot him in the left foot. He made no sound but dropped to the side gripping his bloody shoe and glared at her.
"Come after me, I will kill you, all of you. If I so much as see one of you or even catch a cold I will kill you. All of you. Do you understand?"
"Fuck y.." he didn't finish as the second phhfft smashed into his foot again, this time passing through one of the hands wrapped over it. He groaned softly and glared at her.
"Do You Understand?"
He nodded trying not to show the fear as she stepped forward crouching and pressed the muzzle to his groin noting absently the small wisp of smoke as the fabric singed. She pressed and stared into his eyes.
"I am no longer afraid of you, any of you. Nor am I your plaything any more", this with a glance to 'Judge' watching from a pace away.
"Leave me be and I will ignore you... come after me you die. Try to cover things or perhaps manage to kill me you will be destroyed. Mr Wilkie left me very comfortable and knowledgeable and I am not the lost and scared child you once.... played with. "
Judge spat through the blood, contempt warring with fear as she lifted the pistol his way and stood, stepping back.
"Robert was a weak fool, we should have buried you years ago. Stalemate, leave us be and you will be left alone. You have my word."
"Ah such benevolence, it is so tempting to leave you both lying here with your brains leaking into the dirt. But yes, mutual, a stand-off. Keep your word and I will. Goodbye."
She pocketed the pistol and turned away lifting the hood and without a backward glance strolled into the misting rain.
…. to be continued... if there's interest. I'm winging it as a way to try and write, so... as there's something dark in the water of late I thought I'd toss this in the back of the wagon and watch it bounce around..... possibly 5 pieces.
No resemblance to reality should be inferred or expected.
Copyright KLS 2010.
By Kristina.L.S.
Part Two... Creation... def... genesis, conception.
The soft misty rain dampened everything except her mood. Her thoughts returned to that day where she had truly been born. An abstract, a conceit, still incomplete but the funeral and the events immediately afterwards had set things in motion to where she stood at this moment. A small wry smile that she should think of that now, the weather she supposed, the rain triggering a memory link. Not much was the same other than that.
She turned and to any observer casually checked the street and the entrance to the bar ahead before crossing the road.
"Just the chrysalis that day Cassandra, a fledgling, but well and truly matured now", she whispered to herself, with a wry smile. It occurred to her she had been wearing this very coat that day six years ago. Quality and style she smiled to herself and fluffed the lapels against her cheeks, entered the doorway scanning the room with a casual glance... game on.
A cursory glance showed little had changed from her recce earlier, the small magnetic collar clipped over the coaxial cable made the black plastic dome on the ceiling useless, there were a few more people and a bit more noise. But that was good for her. Her target was still seated in the centre section with small partitions breaking it from the surround, a bunch of tables but this one on the edge, perfect. Four early to mid thirties women getting slightly tipsy as they gossiped and laughed together. Friends, but one with a secret.
Bad for her. Too late for her.
" A glass of the Pipers Brook Pinot please." She dropped a ten and smiled at the barman, tasted as she surveyed the room and noted movement... or lack of, gestures and body language. Sipped casually for a few minutes and just... felt the surroundings. All good, no wrong vibrations. Judged the timing and space. Smiled softly as her eyes ran back and forth, measuring... counting. Set the glass on the bar and moved as things aligned... counting. Three steps, the small Beretta with a silencer that doubled it's length held in her left hand and angled across her body. Masked by the flowing coat she gripped the silencer through the coat pocket with her right. Four more steps and measured the angles as her target began to rise to buy another bottle it appeared, laughing at some comment. A small cough missed in the background noise and a gentle exclamation from someone at a seeming stumble. The women rose to help their friend as she slipped and fell. Bustle and talk as people circled to help or look and it was eight seconds before the first small scream as she guessed blood had been seen.
Stopping on the footpath outside she heard the level of commotion increase as it became clear to those at the scene something more than a simple fall had... happened and the ripples spread outward. With a quick survey behind using her compact she touched up her lips, noting the guy rather agitatedly gesturing and blathering at a mobile that stumbled out behind her. A few steps to be clear and smiling she slid the compact and then the Beretta into her shoulder bag slung underneath her coat and casually walked away. Her gloved hands gripped the coat lapels against the evening chill and she shivered as the tingle of released tension crawled up her neck and across her scalp.
Ten minutes later she sat sipping the same Pinot in her hotel room and gazed at the lights in the park opposite. Six years, and much to her surprise she had seen no follow up from the Judge or Inspector, or any others of the group or those working for them. She had, if she honestly thought about it, been disappointed. They had not contacted her or as far as she knew tried to hinder her. Though admittedly that would have been very hard. Their own blind conceit made it very unlikely that they even knew her name now, she had to all intents and purposes, disappeared. Cassandra Shade, apt as she was a ghost in a very real sense. One of their victims before her, unwanted and not missed, like most that they took and used. Age almost exact, a forgotten name, except to Mr Wilkie who had kept records of everything. Now it was hers. The only memorial the lost girl would ever likely have.
But earlier, she had another, a boys name. Nine years old and unwanted. Taken from care by a seeming gentle man. Mr Wilkie, though once beyond sight he was not gentle, not in the slightest... and his friends even less so. Terror and pain had been his life for four years... humiliation and shame. But everything changes. Others had come and gone, boys and girls though mostly boys, something he did not understand at the time and she still didn't. Always children, eight, nine, ten years old. By the age of twelve he had been left alone as Mr Wilkie no longer looked at him the way he once had. A thing that saddened the child for some reason and even more strangely shamed him that he was sad and that had made him cranky. Mostly he was just.... quiet. The others of the group largely ignored him except on one occasion to muse idly as to why he was still alive and living comfortably in Roberts house, something no other had managed, there or elsewhere, as he knew from personal observation. Luck or something like it, death was no unseen thing here. He probably should have been chilled at that conversation, but it was really only of passing interest, everybody dies, some earlier than others. Just how it was, it didn't really matter and nobody cared, that he knew.
Mr Wilkie had muttered about the the boy helping him about the house. 'What a maid?' Judge had scoffed and a few days later his clothes disappeared and uniform skirts and blouses with 'the maid' embroidered across the left breast appeared. Stockings and heels and makeup with strict instructions to look the part of a female, just like a girl working in housekeeping at a big hotel. So 'she' had. Over time Mr Wilkie had come to rely on her and she became almost invisible, especially she took care to be so to the others. She learned and grew and by the age of nineteen with his contacts was almost fully female. She did not understand why he had kept her, allowed her to learn, even less made her his heir. Perhaps it was to assuage his guilt at what he had been part of and still was.
For her part she used his indulgence to train herself and learn, everything. Unsurprising perhaps she leant heavily on the art of survival. Martial skills of all sorts and the most talented tutors that money could provide. Languages and finance, she was an apt pupil. He had set her on a path and watched her master it. She wondered not for the first time if he perhaps wished for a slightly different outcome.
Shrugging slightly with a bark of laughter at foolish memories she leant down and slid her laptop from the bag against the chair leg. Opened, switched it on and waited for it to boot. Logged through the encryption program and checked into the secure mail. Contract finalised, payment of account complete. She logged into the secure server of the Cook Islands bank where her Nauru registered Company Chiaroscuro Consulting had it's account. A small smile curved her lips as she noted a fresh twenty thousand deposit. A few minutes later she had transferred Five thousand to a small bank in Hong Kong. Commission paid, sent a brief note and shut down the computer.
"Nice work if you can get it eh Cassie", she smiled to herself and toasted the universe. It was an interesting journey. The old expression , what did not kill you made you stronger, seemed true enough. Money and knowledge had made it possible. Once probate was complete she had liquidated all Mr Wilkie's assets and fourteen months later had disappeared to reappear fifteen months later again as Cassandra and completely female and gorgeous as Singapore surgeons could manage.
Not sure you balanced the books there Robert Wilkie, but it's a start. She raised her glass once more.
A small laugh bubbled up as she sipped the soft red wine. It was curious what Oleander sap could do.
"Cheers Solicitor."
... to be continued... if there's interest. I'm winging it as a way to try and write, so...
No resemblance to reality should be inferred or expected.
Copyright KLS 2010.
By Kristina.L.S.
Part Three... Crease... def... overlap, wrinkle.
She patted aloe gel into her left cheek and examined it carefully. A little puffy but it might not bruise. Damn that kid was quick. The pair of them, young triad punks lined up by Master Chung as he tried to set them straight, keep them out of the gangs. She couldn't help but have a wry smile at that one, she might not be directly gang related but she was hardly straight. Still they probably didn't know that, not many did. The walk back up from Chinatown was a little slower than coming down and a hot shower was definitely in order.
Clicked off the blow dryer and fluffed her hair, fixed her make up, checked the cheek and shrugged. Adjusted her clothing and scanned the room quickly. That had been a hell of a workout, those two macho little punks were good but she guessed slightly less condescending than they were now. She was damn good too. It was good to catch up with Master Chung, he was an amazing man and had helped her a great deal over the years. He might be in his sixties but no way would she take him on for real. Training sure and he kicked her arse, she chuckled at that. Getting ones butt kicked was good for you now and then. Character building, kept you on your toes.
The Sheraton Doorman swung her C63 AMG Mercedes onto the apron of the hotel and with a sigh opened the door to climb out, he saw some nice cars but this one would really suit him, he doubted he could afford the steering wheel, let alone the car. Navy blue rather than the more common cream, silver or black and not this exact model, all style with a kick. Just like it's owner, damn she'd suit him too, but no chance.
She slipped her laptop bag into the rear passenger seat well and closed the door, turning to the porter and handed him a ten as he placed her two bags in the boot and gently closed it and then the doorman a twenty as he handed her the keys with a smile then turned slightly to look enviously at the car. She almost laughed.
"Nice isn't it."
"Oh yes, I wouldn't mind one at all."
"It was a toss up, this or the BMW 520 M, this is 'darker', has more kick, zero to a hundred k in under five seconds. A wolf in sheep's clothing, rather suits me I think."
"Oh hell yes, baa baa blue sheep, dark works for me", and he chuckled and bowed to her.
With a delighted laugh she smiled as he tipped his hat and pursed his lips at the growl from the exhaust as she hit the start button, a hundred and fifty grand and it's yours me old mate. She smiled again and pulled out slowly into the Elizabeth Street city traffic.
Flipped the control for the sound system and blinked as ..'.I'm a single lady, I'm a single lady oh oh oh... oh oh oh... '…., after a couple of seconds she flicked the toggle again and took a deep breath as she was washed by the soulful strains of Miles Davis from In a Silent Way. Bloody car park attendants, radio, I left it on CD. Damn... that song, ack, maybe I should make a quick trip to LA and shoot that silly bitch. Come on Cassie, relax girl... The slow traffic split and she veered right at the end of the park at St James Station to swing up onto Macquarie Street and sat waiting for a light just at the corner.
Gazing casually across to a group of men standing back a little near the statue in front of the church and the law courts pathway, she squinted slightly and focused.
"Well, well, look who's here." she muttered softly to herself.
Her eyes roved around the group and the surroundings. Judge, Surgeon, Clerk and Barrister and coming toward them about five metres away Inspector and she was amused to note the limp and the stiff left hand. The sudden itch of anger surprised her as holding Inspectors right hand and seemingly a little sleepy was a small boy. Trainers, hoodie, a T and baggy jeans. Damn that could have been you girl, fifteen years ago. Then another, Nurse joined the group carrying a knotted half full garbage bag and took the boys right hand. Wonder what the word for a group of lizards is? They all seemed jolly, if lizards in the sun could do jolly.
With a quick fumble in her bag she pulled her new phone, imagine carrying an android round in your handbag she mused. Lowered the passenger window as the traffic began to move and snapped three shots as she cruised past. The window rolled up and checking the mirror none of them had noted her she was sure.
So why are you surprised girl, you know what they are. The anger, the tunnelling of vision, that was... unexpected. Hey... not my problem. She turned up the music and headed down Macquarie, onto the Bridge headed north and up the M2, cut across to the Western Freeway and began the climb up into the mountains. An hour and a half after leaving the city she turned West off the old Highway at Blackheath and wound down a narrow road to her home. A two acre property set on the cliff top overlooking the Megalong Valley. The gate swung open and the garage door rose and then they closed in turn behind her.
It was only early afternoon, a light and pleasant if chilly day, the mountain air crisp and invigorating. For some reason she was at odds, unable to settle or decide what to do with herself. A stroll down into the valley perhaps...yet it would be slippery and damp so not ideal. Thoughts kept floating in and out, memories old and new. Last night... she ran it through and it was as near perfect as mattered. The morning workout and those two smartarse punks. Near adults and as tough and vicious as any hardened gangster. Both quick and nasty, their willingness to go full out and hurt her had surprised her at first. The bigger one had got a shot in and knocked her sideways as the smaller tried to take her legs and stomp her once down. It had taken a very quick and agile skip and kick to stop that one. They gained a lot more respect over the next ten minutes and had a few bruises of their own to think on. All in all a nice hard workout.
A slow motion image of that group near the statue and the boy. Past images of them and others... with a grunt of exasperation she headed through to her bedroom and stripped, changing into workout gear and light dance slippers. She headed down to the basement and circled for a few minutes before attacking the wooden man and working up and down for several minutes, slow and gradually faster until her hands blurred and sweat ran into her eyes. Gasping she stepped back and paced some more getting her breath then stepping into a matted area with a half dozen angled speed balls at different heights she spun and punched and kicked, bouncing and dancing and dodging the swinging blobs and the elastic cables that held them. After half an hour she stepped back exhausted and sodden. Watched as the balls settled into place again and were still.
But her thoughts were not.
...to be continued... if there's interest. I'm winging it as a way to try and write, so... might not be my greatest effort but it's something.
No resemblance to reality should be inferred or expected.
Copyright KLS 2010.
By Kristina.L.S.
Part Four... Assail... def... incursion, offence.
Her thoughts kept spiralling back and forth like some sort of weird video loop or maybe a crazed slinky. The face of a small boy, dull and sleepy... and past faces... long lost faces. Faces no one remembered, no one knew to miss or mourn, a brief flicker of light before snuffing out, the universe was a cold indifferent place. Next her own dull eyes staring back as 'he' sought some spark in the mirror, some reason as to why, as if that mattered, there were no reasons. There was no spark for several years because it did not matter and no one knew... or cared if they did... and then a small, glimmer and later a quiet fatalistic flicker that finally became something resembling a sparkle as she broke free. A dark flame in a cavern of memory where small lights blinked and dimmed in turn.
"Aarrgghh." she growled aloud and paced in exasperation. "What is the fucking point of this girl, the world turns and people die in their thousands every bloody day and no one gives a shit. So what has it got to do with you. FUCK... nothing... that's what. Just another kid that never had a fucking chance and the lizards like tender meat." she stood staring out into the valley and saw nothing except a dark cave where a foul creature lived and small lights winked out as it's tongue slithered out and licked them.
"Oh for fucks sake Cass, get a grip. Twilight zone meets the fucking brothers Grimm. Shit!" she paced through the house not knowing what she was looking for and not finding it and finally, realising she stank, headed for the bathroom.
A long hot shower and then a small lunch, but her thoughts kept running in circles. Those eyes were dull and lifeless, she knew those eyes, if not the owner in this case. That was just an incidental, those eyes were her and many others. Just another of many and no concern of hers she tried to tell herself. But it seemed it was not that simple and exasperation warred with a quiet anger. A soft burning outrage that these creatures could be so brazen, so totally uncaring... yet how should that surprise her? She knew what they were, what they did and as far as she knew of the perhaps two dozen kids she had met or known of only she had survived. That only due to some quirk of fate and the possible guilty whim of a twisted benefactor, if such a word could apply here.
She dressed for movement, sports bra and briefs, stretch bodysuit and ski pants in a soft black and soft tan city walking boots over cushion socks and a thigh length soft wool camel trench style coat. The carefully fitted blonde wig set in a pony tail and the slim dark framed clear lens glasses changed her appearance notably. She smirked at the name on the drivers licence and the picture, blondes have more fun huh... not likely girl. The soft brown tote she lifted with a jerk to test for rattles and feel was a little heavier than it looked but nothing outrageous. With a look around she laughed aloud and wondered if she would see this place again, set the alarms and headed out the door without a backward glance and at a medium pace started the three k walk to the train station.
She day-dreamed on the trip in, if such 'dreams' were that, perhaps day-mares fitted more closely. Though to her they were nothing to fear, just memories and memories could not really hurt you, but maybe the actions they nudged you toward could. It wasn't the dragon in the dark that hurt you, it was tripping over the rug as you stumbled awake. With a shake of her head she grinned at just how prosaic such things often were and yet here she was on a train chasing the bloody dragon after kicking the rug aside. Righteous indignation? Jeeezuss girl, you have lost it.
It was a short walk to the small line of five garages she owned and rented out, the income into a local account. They backed up to a group of small businesses in a slightly rundown looking area of the city outskirts. After a quick look around she rolled up the door and checked the car. It was registered in another name again and while in one sense clean in another it didn't exist, being a blend of probably half a dozen similar cars pieced together and worked up to suit her needs. A fairly plain looking ten year old Audi A4 Quattro in a nondescript silver grey. Nothing flash and yet it would be quick and agile as needed, the engine and exhaust carefully tuned to give quiet power. She disconnected the timed trickle charger and shut the bonnet with a gentle thunk and after a another quick visual check partly emptied her bag, tucked it up against the passenger seat front and placed the backups in several plastic bags in the back seat and her spares under a rug on the floor.
There was a momentary whir and cough before the engine caught and settled quickly into a quiet burble, not silent but close enough. Checked the tyres while the engine warmed, pressure good, then pulled out into the laneway and locked the door. She squirmed a little in the seat, settled and adjusted the belt and checked the mirrors and rechecked the seat and steering wheel settings which with a brief chuckle she acknowledged to herself as pure tension induced nerves. Daft bitch, come-on lets go say hi to Nursie and see what's up. She'll be thrilled I'm sure. That thought caused a loud bark of laughter as she slipped the handbrake off, palmed the gear change and pulled away slowly.
It was a little after four and getting dark as she parked just up the road from the small cottage in the inner west and suddenly wondered what she would do if no one was at home. Shit girl, what was that PPP thing, piss poor planning... crap... whatever, you live, you die, who gives a shit. Lets see if we can pull the lizards tail a bit and maybe break a circle. Karma or some such crap... hey, who knows huh.
The knock rattled the stained glass in the door slightly and footsteps could be heard heading along and the door swung open. The almost pretty face of Nurse looked out impassively that changed to a glare suddenly.
"No thanks I don't fuckin' want any so go bother someone else." The door began to swing shut so she stepped into it and pushed.
"Hey, what the fuck...get out of my...." the words trailed away as she stared at the small black pistol held in a gloved hand that pointed her way.
"Don't remember me then Nursie love, I'm hurt. Ah no matter, where's the boy?"
"What boy, what are you on about, who are you?" It was almost amusing watching the confidence return as she thought she could bluff it out. The picture on the prepaid phone screen held up to her face stopped her cold.
"That boy." She grinned as Nurse blinked and licked her lips as her eyes darted about looking for some answer or response or maybe escape.
"Count of three Nursie dear. Where? Judge, Barrister, somewhere else?" The flick of the safety seemed quite loud and was pure melodrama.
"One, two..."
"Okay.... You're too late whoever you are." The lunge was given away by her eyes and Cassie without a blink stepped slightly back and watched the bullet hit her just to the right of the sternum. Nurse stopped cold and slumped backwards and then dropped with a cough to lie stunned on the floor with a small trickle of blood on her lips.
"Where and I call an ambulance, otherwise I guess maybe ten minutes and you drown you cold bitch."
Another small cough brought a further trickle, "…. Builder... Builder has him, work site... Sussex Street car park... please..." The cough of the pistol sounded louder than it was was and nurse looked up accusingly and then her eyes dulled.
"I lied."
Placed a clear plastic wrapped bundle on the hall table the red curly ribbons and small card with 'to whom it may concern' written on it. Visible was a couple of slim CD cases and a folded sheet of paper. She quickly searched the house and left quietly closing the front door softly behind her.
Twenty five minutes and she parked up a block down from the site, it had taken a few minutes cruise up and back around to pick which car-park and it was a renovation site seemingly shut down for the day. But a gate was open and a quiet compressor could be heard. It took a minute of careful observation to spot Builder looking down casually and gazing about from a walkway one level up. She slipped in as he turned and paced making a call and made her way to him, the slight sounds masked by the compressor noise.
He was leaning again as she got close, he stood abruptly and blinked in surprise.
"What are you doing here lady this is a closed building site, you can't be in here, please leave." As with Nurse his attention was suddenly taken by the long but small pistol she waived is his direction.
"Hello Builder ", he blinked at that name, " Nurse sends her regards, I'm looking for the boy."
His face went a little pale and he glanced down and to the side where some pre-set form work was slowly being filled by a concrete pump , the compressor sound she realised.
It wasn't until she stood over him and heard the dull click that she realised she had emptied the five remaining rounds into his face and number eight pull on that mag hit empty. With a deep breath she looked about and noted the spray of blood, fortunately none on her as the angle was wrong. She hadn't been close enough until that last empty shot. Damn girl, get your shit together, it's done.
Grabbing his left arm she flipped him sideways and with a shove sent him with a slither followed by a dull thud down on top of the form work he had been watching. Someone had obligingly swept up and she kicked the loose cement dust and dirt over the marks she had left, it took a few minutes to find the shed and slip on a nylon cover suit and with a bit of effort pushed his body between the gaps of the wire twist tied metal rods and took care to fit him centrally so he would be fully surrounded and hidden. There was no sign of the boy, but she didn't expect any. It took almost an hour for the cement to fill the wall space and she killed the compressor and using a plank of wood smoothed the surface to match the neighbouring section.
She stripped off and pushed the nylon suit into a garbage bag, left another plastic wrapped package on the desk in the site shed and left. The garbage bag went into a skip bin up the road at another site. It took her a few minutes to figure out what she was feeling, a cold churning in her stomach.
Settling into the drivers seat she took another deep breath and exhaled slowly. Then deliberately refilled the empty mag and slipped it back into place and swapped with a cold weapon from the spare pair in the floor rug stash.
"Ah Cassie girl, emotion, there's no place, it gets you hurt. Lets go pay a visit to the lizard lounge eh." she muttered quietly shaking her head at her own insanity. Fancy that, a bloody 'lounge', who'd a thought. Maybe some bastard was taking the piss on Wiki, but hey, who was she to argue, it fit.
"Clock's a tickin' girl", Game on... she smiled coldly, started the car, flicked on the headlights and pulled away.
…. to be continued... if there's interest. I'm winging it as a way to try and write, so... might not be my greatest effort but it's something. Sometimes you need to play in the dark, so it doesn't bite you.
No resemblance to reality should be inferred or expected.
Copyright KLS 2010.
By Kristina.L.S.
Part Five... Nullify... def... abate, void.
She could probably have driven there blindfolded. This house she knew well, having been there many times, although not for years. Memories washed through like a tumble washer video stream and none of those memories was pleasant. Pulling up a few blocks down the road she switched off and sat for a moment. The image of that boy on the footpath surrounded by feral lizards and she now knew he wasn't sleepy, he was drugged and had only hours to live. Older than he looked so she'd got it backwards, he wasn't on the way 'in' he was heading 'out'. Anger at herself flushed her, very closely followed by a quiet rage at those monsters hiding in plain sight.
Here she sat in a quiet Woollahra street, an upper crust suburb on the Eastern edge of the city centre and the respectable façade she knew hid horrors that would shock the neighbours. A small crooked smile crossed her face and she shook her head at what she cynically believed would be short lived outrage and the inextricably linked morbid curiosity. Gazing into the middle distance she thought of her own upbringing, unique as far as she knew in this almost surreal alternate universe, only blocks away and a stray thought as to how the old place looked now, she hadn't seen it in 6 years. Checked the mirrors, scanned the surrounds casually, patted her coat pockets and stepped out to head up the street.
Judge lived in a Southern French style villa surrounded by two metre high brick walls on a for this area, large block of land. A fair sized garden, bloody palm trees, why always palm trees and a driveway parking area for several cars in addition to the double garage behind a large sliding gate. That gate she noted on the drive past had been open as it always was when he was home, only closed late in the evening after all business or whatever had been finished for the day and the court appointed gate guard left. He was there, just outside the gate on the footpath looking bored and uncomfortable and she knew he would never, unless in some emergency, go further inside the property than the small outhouse attached to the side of the garage just inside and left of the gate. She used to wonder if they knew, but was convinced they didn't, that would keep this one alive.
There were motion sensors and lights she knew but no alarms or cameras. For some reason Judge hadn't wanted cameras around his home and especially the entrance. The ordinary lights were on up the driveway and she mentally pictured the front entrance and the side patio area. Judge would be inside the sitting room there or perhaps his upstairs study she guessed. Idly her thoughts passed on Mrs Judge, she knew there was one but had never seen her and had no idea what she looked like, separate lives she believed and wondered what she got from the deal with a mental shrug.
As she drew closer the guard turned her way and casually eyed her up and down in a typical male appraisal, no doubt rating various parts of her anatomy on some scale of desirability and as she drew level gave her a wide grin and a nod as if to say 'wouldn't say no', she would, but objectively he wasn't bad looking and at least didn't have a gut.
Her right hand blurred as it swung across her body and drilled the heel of her palm just below his solar plexus. His eyes widened in surprise and then bulged as the breath left his body with a grunt and he began to slump as she stepped into him and slammed her left elbow just under his left ear, catching his weight across her shoulder as he sagged unconscious. She hissed in effort as he dropped on her and grabbing his right arm that was draped across her back, spun sideways to manoeuvre him around the gatepost and allowed him to slide off her and slump boneless to the ground against the front wall. She winced in mild sympathy as his head bounced and he bit his tongue, took a moment to zip tie his ankles and wrists, pulled off his tie and shoved it in his mouth and waited to be sure he could breathe. With a soft nod she turned her attention back to the house and at a casual stroll crossed the driveway and headed toward the side patio area.
Carefully she stopped just on the edge of the glow from the inside lights that spilled out the French doors and scanned the room. To her advantage the lights inside made her almost invisible but allowed her to see in clearly. A wide grin split her face, well, well... three for the price of one. Seated on lounges in front of a small fire were Barrister, Judge and Surgeon. She imagined to most people looking at this scene it would seem a lovely warm inviting room. She however saw numbed children being quietly led downstairs... to the sumptuous room next to the wine cellar, their hearts thumping like a demented dance mix. But here and now the three sat, chatting, sipping from chunky glasses and looking very comfortable, pleased with life and their place in the universe.
She scowled at memories overlaying current reality and mentally shook herself.
Judge looked older, though still fit, she supposed he would be near sixty now. Surgeon was a little pudgy which fit his self indulgent manner. Barrister, was an oddity in a way. The looks of a male model, voice of a radio announcer, fit and athletic, a bit of a gym junky. Reaching out slowly she turned the handle and smiled as it moved. She pulled the pistol from her jacket pocket, tugged the door toward her and stepped through, they turned in matched surprise at the sudden movement and whirl of cold air. The sudden blur and deep growl raised hackles as she spun towards a very large and upset Rottweiler charging her from its spot to the right of the fire.
"Holy shit." she spun using a standing lamp as a pole, kicked the dog on the shoulder and used the lounge back beside Surgeon as a kick board to spin over and past. Snarling the furious animal slid on the floor runner trying to turn, she kicked its rump as she dropped knocking it off balance and out onto the patio. Just managing to pull the door shut with a loud rattle as it crunched snarling against the centre frame.
Distracted she didn't see the movement until something slammed into her left side numbing that arm as pins and needles rushed up and down and the pistol dropped from her right hand in sympathetic reaction. Barrister had reacted and shoulder charged her and was swinging a kick that would take her legs out and leave her down and vulnerable. He obviously expected her to go for the gun as the others sat still frozen, but she spun on her right foot and stepped past and over his kick, using her still slightly numb left arm as an ineffective club. It distracted him slightly and reaching into her jacket with her right she pulled a small throwing knife with a leaf shaped blade and cord wrapped handle. Twisting she hissed and plunged it into the side of his left leg just above the knee, horizontal to the thigh bone. Felt the jar as it bit bone and he dropped with a shrill squeal as she pulled it loose. As he moaned clutching his bleeding leg the others had finally managed to stand. Shaking her left arm to restore circulation she bent and retrieved the dropped pistol with her still tingling fingers and wiped the blade a few times on the back of the lounge as she stood upright and stretched. A quick check showed it clean enough so she slipped it back into the slim pocket.
With an admittedly slightly theatrical flourish she transferred the pistol to her right hand and was pretty sure Judge had figured out who she was by the sour look on his face.
"Good evening gentlemen", scorn and insincerity evident in her voice.
"Who the fuck are you..." Surgeon blustered and then stopped as she turned and without a word shot him between the eyes.
"Shut the dog up Judge, I don't want to have to shoot him." The snarling, scratching and rattling at the door was loud and constant.
Judge paled and after two failed attempts to work his voice snapped a little hoarsely, "Simba....Hush...Sit." The dog backed up a pace and peered toward the voice of it's master. Then dropped its rear legs and the slid down on its front paws to stare inside panting and dribbling. Typical she thought, the bastard actually cares about the dog.
"What do you want?" Judge tried to assert himself and look stern and in control but did not quite succeed.
"Want? I don't want anything... just doing what I should have done years ago."
Without another word she shot him twice through the heart and as he slumped turned and shot Barrister through the right temple as he turned and with a load high pitched squeal tried to scramble away. Sudden silence and she glanced at movement as the dog stood and tilted its head trying to get instructions.
After a few deep breaths she stretched again and clenched her hand a few times to aid blood flow to the nerves. Placed another plastic wrapped package on the sideboard next to the open Armagnac bottle, looked about carefully to be sure she'd left nothing else and stepped to the doors. The dog growled softly as she opened the door a fraction....
"Come on Simba, good boy."
The big head tilted toward her in curiosity and he pushed through the door toward his master with a soft rumbling growl. Taking a deep breath she pushed the pistol into her coat pocket, slipped out and closed the door behind her. Walked slowly across the driveway and stopped to bend down to the guard, still unconscious on the ground. She reached down with a gloved forefinger and pressed the SOS button on the two way radio clipped to his belt. A small blue light began to blink as she stood and casually glancing up and down the street headed out the gate and down toward her car, there was no one around as she walked easily if slightly hunched, hands in pockets against the chill despite the adrenaline that flowed through her and kept her immune to its bite.
One more stop across the bridge to visit Clerk. Should still have a few hours at least and then watch the shit hit the fan eh girl. Be nice to take them all, but near enough will have to be good enough. She rolled her left shoulder a few times and guessed it would be sore tomorrow as she used the key to open the car door and slipped into the drivers seat. Took a few minutes to let the breath cycle with long slow ins and outs to cleanse her. Clicked the belt, twisted the key, flicked the lights and indicating pulled out and headed for the bridge.
Clerks town-house was dark and quiet, the let down of not running this one down had her on edge, irritable and tense at her own failure. She stood and looked up and down the quiet side street just off the main drag through Neutral Bay, she could wait she supposed, but..... then a figure turned out of the small lane heading her way. Clerk looking tired and carrying a takeaway bag of Chinese food was coming home late. With a sigh she grinned at the Gods sense of humour and noted he was almost to a bench seat bus stop. A few quick skip steps and she was level as he got there...
"Hey honey how was your day." She embraced him lightly and leant in as he, surprised, stumbled a pace backwards and sat on the seat, the plastic bag of food beside him. He looked shocked for a second as the almost silent shot hit him. Sitting a plastic wrapped bundle on the seat to his left she tousled his hair and skipped off up the street into the lane.....
Back across the bridge to the edge of the city she left the car on the apron of a dark workshop. As she walked away her bag slung over her right shoulder she heard the door rattle up behind her. Its replacement would appear in the garage in a few days she was sure. On the walk to the train station she dropped a few more little packages in mail boxes. It was after midnight when she let herself in with a sigh and headed for the bathroom, she needed a soak. Three days later the Current Affairs shows were bleating about Child Sex scandals and vigilante killings.
Cassie smiled and wondered if anyone would knock on her door, very unlikely, but.... Humming softly to herself she stirred the sizzling beef strips and vegetables and spun the wok, reached for the glass of red and sipped.
"Cheers Solicitor."
… a finish, of sorts. Life seldom ties up neatly, there's always messy threads left hanging.
' Where does she go from here, the path is not at all clear. Pain and loss and fear shaped her, but what will the future bring. Is emotion a curse or a blessing. She held herself apart to live. But is that what she did. To live is to feel, to be human. Perhaps now she can be who she is. '
Last bit, thanks for those that followed it. Maybe I'll write something else sometime.
A bit of fun on the First of May. That's what everyone seemed to think, well mostly,
but is what you see always what is there?
I started this when the competition was announced. Time and stuff got in the way but I wanted to. Then it morphed and became something totally different. The title changed so this weekend being rainy and miserable I sat and figured out what it was. We shall see…
Author's Note: This is a work of adult fiction. No resemblance to reality should be inferred or expected. Copyright KLS 2009.
"Mayday, mayday, mayday."
Oh crap. She remembered. Do you know it's almost impossible to stop a blush creeping up once it starts.
"First of May tomorrow honey bunch, come and find me after Bill does his 'Brothers Unite' speech and we'll get you sorted. " Luisa was leaning over my left shoulder and whispering none too softly in my ear.
I was the kid in the office, one of a dozen or so paper pushers that kept the ins and outs more or less under control and helped the company to keep the main group down on the warehouse floor in meaningful labour. The company was BTW (Bush Track Werks), which was an after market auto bits manufacturer. You know, suspension, engine and body bits and pieces to the after market, er… market. Most of the biggies optioned some of our stuff… Mitsubishi, well, used to… and GMH, Nissan and Toyota. Ford used anther mob, snotty bastards.
Started with suspension and moved on and out and up. Tuff for Aussie conditions and all that who hah. Considering ninety percent of the population is city based and even the Four Wheel Drive owners, or SUV's if you prefer, the vast majority never venture offroad. Mummy in the big 'tractor' clogging the roads at schools out time is an urban joke. I mean do you really want to scratch up your eighty grand Land Cruiser on some rough bush track? Let alone the Range Rover with the computer aided suspension and the six grand paint job, or the Beemer or whatever. Lets face it most of those owners were semi rich poseurs from the trendy suburbs, but still enough regular types harboured the rugged outback dream to make it a goer. It was all image after all.
Oh, sorry, got sidetracked there. My name's Nate, well it's Nathanial actually. I ask you, who'd call their kid Nathanial? I think Mum had a thing for the character in Last of the Mohicans, or maybe just Daniel Day Lewis. Anyway…
See Mayday, which we were assured by Bill in his thick Irish accent was an historic day for the labour movement and should be remembered by all that took good working conditions for granted, not that there wasn't room for improvement he'd add with a glare at the boss. So, first of May had become a bit of a management kowtow to the Union with a Barbie laid on, assorted drinks, essentially a holiday. I guess the bosses figured it was a trade off for good relations and even if most paid lip service to Bill and his rants they'd take anything on offer if it was going their way, or seemed to be. Human nature I expect.
It had become something of a tradition that a few of the girls would don maid outfits and play serving wenches for the day. I suspect the 'maid' look rather than a more traditional colonial wench outfit was down to one of the management blokes, as they picked up the hire tab. Funny how sex works it's way in almost everywhere isn't it? Short black satin and heels beats long linen and cloth cap, from the guy point of view anyway.
Sorry sidetracked again. Upshot this year, hang on, step back… a month or so back one of the sales guys, John maybe during the mid morning coffee BS session made some comment to Sally, the sole girl in Khaki…oh the showroom sales lot did khaki, an outbacky adventury look, sort of Steve and Terri Irwin with trousers and who looked better sort of depended on your orientation or gender or something.
Anyhow 'whoever' said he was looking forward to seeing her in ooh la la mode as he put it. She'd cracked back that she'd be happy to if he did as well, which of course precipitated a general, mostly good natured argument about how crap he'd look compared to her with the guys siding with him. And just on principle the girls mostly backed Sally saying if they had to put up with the heels and general ogling so could a guy or two.
Then someone said, 'well Nate would maybe look okay with that hair of his. Not sure about the legs though'. So suddenly I was in the spotlight and the joking turned to me. Mostly teasing or joking about either how cute I'd look or how silly, guess which side was which?
Then my good mate Luisa sidled up and did the hair twisting bit around the finger and the little girly voice, "Ooh Natalie, you don't have a problem being one of the goils for a day do you? We'll protect you…won't we goils, these beastly nacho I mean macho studdlies are just sooo insecure." There was a chorus of yeses in similar girly voices and Sally and a couple of others sidled up and formed a little semi circular chorus of support and solidarity, which in theory should have pleased Bill but I think this reality perhaps didn't.
Whereupon the boss man wandered out to suggest maybe some work should be done and after a quick reading of the situation asked Luisa to organise 'five uniforms in appropriate sizes'. It took about three seconds before everyone realised that was four girls and one boy, me. Another second or two and I had multiple kisses on both cheeks from the four girls and a few possibly slightly sarcastic 'good on yer's', from the guys, while John strutted off with a laugh, waggling his left hand in the air and singing '…just a sweet transvestite….', I guess I was trying to figure out something clever or semi intelligent to say but took too long.
A slightly louder, '…work, hmmm?', from boss man prompted a mass movement to desks and so on leaving me contemplating satin and heels and the various permutations of good sport or killjoy and one or two others. Sigh.
Damn Bill's a boring fart, raving on about bloody comrades and worker solidarity when all anyone wanted was to get a few bits of work out of the way and get into the food and booze.
Luisa and Sally sidled up and took my arms and led me toward the back file room which was doubling as a change room today. There were a few whistles and cheers from a couple of the guys as they watched and some of the girls clapped which probably pissed of Bill as he wasn't the centre of attention anymore.
Nervous? Crap, I was scared shitless, I sort of did and really didn't want to do this but somehow it had gone past a point where I could say no.
"Um, Luisa I'm really not sure about this, I'll look like a complete dick. I mean how many six foot French maids with knobby knees do you see running about? I'll be laughed out of town or worse. "
"Oh relax Nate. Sure a few might laugh, but it'll be good natured teasing, anything nasty Boss man Frank will stamp on, you know that. We all think you'll look pretty good and we're itching to play dress up with you. It's all organised so just go with the flow and have some fun. We will." She poked her tongue out at me and laughed, but it was a friendly laugh.
Sally piped in with a, " We all think you're great for doing this. It makes us girls feel much better about this sexist bullshit if one of the guys is willing to go along. Oh, you'll be six three in heels, so watch the door frames huh, you Amazon you." She laughed and gave me a hug and the others were smiling too, so how could I piss on their parade. Didn't stop my stomach churning though.
"Heels! Oh crap." All four laughed as Luisa started unbuttoning my shirt.
"All part of being beautiful and sexy Natalie. Here run this over your face." She peeled my shirt off and handed me a rechargeable razor.
"Not too hairy on the arms, good…" Luisa turned away and started to pull bits and pieces out of a bag next to a garment bag on a hanger. A few minutes later my face was smooth and she ran her hands over my cheeks and gave me a peck on the lips.
"Okay hon, let's get you dressed. Here strip down and slip these on, we'll look away." She handed me a pair of black lycra briefs. Glancing around they were all smiling and it seemed no intent to embarrass, so… Flicking off my shoes I peeled off the socks and then my pants and finally turning into the corner, my jocks. Then quickly slipped up the briefs and tucked myself down to get comfortable.
"Now leg up." As she grabbed my right calf and lifted as Sally slipped a stocking over my foot and gently tugged it up past my knee. Repeated with the other foot and got me to slowly get them up over my hips. Then a second pair, Sheer to waist extra tall, beige it said on the packet. Then a second pair of briefs.
"Oh Natalie, this is the bit that might be a little uncomfortable. We need to pull your waist in a bit. You might be slim, but not quite enough. Breathe in deep and hold it."
She wrapped a black satin nylon thing with laces and straps around my waist and then tugged it tight. "There we go hon, your dress should fit now. Here, arms front." She slipped a black bra over my hands and up and hooked it closed in back, stuffing the cups with some rolled up pantyhose. A few squeezes and squishes and she was satisfied.
"Right you are Natalie, you ready Kel?"
"Yep, sit yourself here Nate and I'll do your face." Kellie finished dusting and with a flick to an eye and a blot to her lips turned to me with a smile and patted the chair next to her.
She pulled a bunch of fat rollers and twisted them into my hair and then sprayed with a mist bottle of water and slipped on a plastic cap. Various creams and lotions were applied and assorted pencils and brushes swished here and there. A couple of false starts on the eyelashes but she got there. Ten minutes later and she pronounced me done. I glanced about to see the others finishing makeup and adjusting garter straps, they all smiled my way.
Stockings were next, carefully rolled and stretched to keep the seams straight. Lastly the little black satin dress with white lace on the short sleeves and collar and a ruffley little frilly bit under the short skirt which made it sit out and bounce as you moved. I couldn't help shivering as the zip was done up. Last a lacy little excuse for an apron was tied round my waist.
A quick blow dry of the hair and Debbie handed me the shoes, which I slipped on and tentatively took a couple of steps. A slight wobble but not bad.
Luisa stepped up and clipped on some dangly gold hoops as I noticed the others were all wearing similar. "There you go Natalie hon, looking good eh girls."
There was round of soft whistles and general approval. My mouth was so dry I doubted I could whistle or spit.
"Right, we ready girls?" Nods all around and Sally and Luisa took my arms again and Debbie and Kellie took their's on the outside
Debbie flicked her phone shut, tossed it into her bag and called, "All set, let's strut our stuff."
Just as we filed through the door they again linked arms with me in the middle, well I was easily the tallest. Then the PA started pumping that old Robert Palmer thing Simply Irresistible
I did my best to match the stride as they led the way across to the tables while the assembled mob whistled and clapped and cheered. Calls of come to daddy and dust me please and how much is the doggy in the middle.
The next few hours were sort of fun as insults were traded and my bum got slapped and pinched as often as the other girls. The lassie go home jabs did bother me a little though. As did the barking, even if done with a laugh.
I guess inevitably as the light began to fade and the booze took a toll the insults got a bit more personal and my sexuality and ancestry was called in to question more than once. Various groping and pawing while meant in fun really wasn't. The last straw was a, 'bend over and take it doggy', accompanied by a vigorous hip thrusting. Sure we were both fully dressed and nobody was paying attention except someone that called, 'get a room', but it bothered me. Everyone was paired off or chatting in groups so I pushed him off and headed outside to think.
It was practically dark now, so I just sat on the bench in the courtyard and stared at the night. The words of an old Bonnie Raitt song running through my head,
~~ 'I know it's hard sometimes - and things seem larger than they are - But if you need to tell someone, that's what I'm here for - Cry on my shoulder, I'll help you rise above…'~~
"Oh, there you are. I was wondering where you'd disappeared to. Needed some air or maybe to rest the feet huh?" She was grinning as she approached him from behind and veered to come up on his right shoulder.
He was staring out into the dark and had not moved or acknowledged her in any way. She'd sort of expected some crack about stoopid womens shoes. But as she stopped and glanced down at him seated crosslegged an air of sadness struck her as she noticed the tears rolling silently down his face.
The whole day flashed backwards through her mind as she registered small ticks and mannerisms in response to the sarcastic jibes tossed his way. The dressing room… Oh hell… I read this all wrong right from the start. Why didn't….
Moving behind him she leant gently against his back and rubbed his shoulders slowly, "Oh hon, why didn't you say?"
Strength or weakness is sometimes an elastic concept. It's easy to judge at a distance. Should you try to hold on to that fleeting bubble of beauty and joy or human warmth despite the pain that may accompany it?
This is a work of adult fiction. No resemblance to reality should be inferred or expected.
Copyright KLS 2012.
Emotional Appraisal
By Kristina.L.S.
"Are you okay, need a drink of water or anything before we start?"
"No, I'm fine... well, I'm okay to talk anyway."
Senior constable Rachel Deaks frowned slightly as she looked at my face and the hugely puffed up lip with nine or maybe twelve stitches, I wasn't sure about the number but could picture the tugging as the Vietnamese Doc stitched it up. Weird, not feeling it but aware and the needle that caused the numbness wasn't too bad either. He'd stopped and looked and lifted my chin a few times, checked inside and again the alignment and then grunted, somewhat satisfied.
Three hours in emergency until I'd been patched up and X-rayed to check on a possible broken nose. A small fracture they decided and other than a bit of swelling no problem, unless it bled internally; they thought not. It should heal okay they decided. Shame really, I sorta fancied a bit of a bob, but no go.
Glanced down over the blood spattered dress and long cotton cardie while running my tongue gingerly along my teeth and felt the prickly stitching. Nothing else busted up thankfully. Lip and nose was enough.
My thoughts wandered to Mike, where was he and was he sorry. I pictured the expression just after the punches landed. The anger dropping away to be replaced by pain and sorrow as he reached...
I'd reflexively flinched backwards and he stopped, looking sad and turned away. That was when the banging at the door started. Calls of... "Police! Open the door please, we need to make sure everything is okay in there."
A womans voice and the insistent knocking and repeated "Police, open the door." I knew her name now. I didn't know her much larger and male partners but had sort of watched numbly as I flicked the lock and they had pushed in, she taking me by the arm and shoving gently to the side, swiftly looking around the room. Her eyes stopping cold on Mike as they hardened and her nose flared.
The partner had followed and with a nod grabbed Mike and roughly shoved him to the floor face down as he had muttered something about "... an accident, I didn't mean it.." His arms were twisted up behind his back as the monologue went on and the cuffs were clamped hard on his wrists. They stayed there together on the floor no further word after the cop had muttered darkly.."Shut Up.." his knee pressed into the small of Mikes back and a hand pressing the back of his head.
"Okay, so what happened here?" as she let me go and pulled a small black notebook and waited for me to gather my thoughts and speak. She asked for clarification once or twice as I had to repeat things, scribbling with a pencil in a small book while standing was I suspected an acquired skill, but not a speedy one.
It took about ten minutes as I stood there with a tea towel stuck against my lip and ran my thoughts back and forth while wondering if I could get the drops of blood out of the rug. She'd had a quick look and grimaced, " We'll get you to hospital shortly, that'll need stitches."
She bent down and gruffly muttered, " You, are under arrest. Assault occasioning actual bodily harm." Then to her partner, " Get a van, I'll take her to the hospital as soon as they get here."
He had nodded and grabbed the mic on his left shoulder as she turned back to me.
"I'll take you to the hospital and stay while you get patched. The we'll head back to the station and take a statement. He can cool his heels and reflect a little on hitting women."
There'd been a roughly muttered, "She's not a fuckin' wo...." and a grunt as his head was bounced on the floor not too gently, followed by another, darker, "Shut Up."
I'd nodded slightly numbly and looked down at Mike and the cop crouched slightly above him his weight pressing down on his left knee on Mikes pelvis holding him still. Just stood staring into space, thoughts awhirl as we waited. Maybe ten minutes as my mind churned and then settled on the memory of the day... well I thought it was after midnight now, so yesterday.
We'd fought at breakfast, angry words and insults as I tried to be the woman of the house and play wife. He was under pressure I knew as I had lost my job and had not found another just yet. Three weeks after the cafe had been sold and the new owners did not want someone like me dealing with their customers. They didn't say that of course, but the quiet distaste was not too hidden.
I guess I'd had a false sense of optimism that I was more or less accepted as a woman and could find something, but so far.... Money, always a problem but now tight and he got ribbed regularly for being a little swish in fancying a 'girl' like me. Very PC and encompassing his mates had mocked somewhat unsubtly. They were polite if a little cool toward me and a couple of the girlfriends were worse, though one or two were nice and somewhat friendly.
The spiral had started after he left with a grunted apology but no kiss. I'd pottered about tidying and dishwashing and only realised the tears were running down my face when I noticed the drips in the sink.
What fucking use are you you useless bitch. Not even done, so you can't even give yourself like a proper woman. A bloody joke is what you are, a pathetic excuse of a woman. Hah, some woman. The dress I was wearing had torn slightly as I had roughly tugged at it to stand in front of the bedroom mirror and after stripping the undies stare at the ridiculous figure thrown back at me.
The slightly too deepset eyes and large nose to the mildly square jaw, long face and the shoulder length hair pulled back with a couple of cheap plastic combs. Small breasts just starting to sag slightly after the extended childish perkiness. Somewhat thick waist and that silly little thing slightly shrunken that still reared it's head at odd moments and reinforced just what a sad excuse for a human being she was. She, oh sure... only in your tiny little mind fella. The tears had come again about then, softly and silently as she... yes, she... though not a very good she, stared almost unseeing and in a fog of desperation that felt almost warm if dark.
After... some time, she was not really sure how long, she had roused with a slightly odd smile on her face and glanced out the window. It was a nice day if a little cool and the thought came that a paddle would do her good, work the muscles a bit, see if she could reach Vanuatu maybe. She snorted at that thought and knew she could not paddle that far, but so what.... Out the heads and paddle North East, maybe she'd bump into Norfolk Island, she could have tea with Colleen McCullough if she was home. That brought a laugh, but her face did not move nor her eyes light.
The royal blue skin under a light dress and sandies on the feet. An odd smile as she grabbed her bag and headed out to the car and grunted slightly to lift the kayak onto the Outbacks racks. Stretch and hook to tie and took a good look around and sniffed the scent of the yard.
Parked up at a spot down on the waters edge on the bank of the river near Gladesville. About a fifteen k paddle to the heads she figured, that would work the kinks even taking it easy. Dropped the kayak on the bank and locked the car laughing a little hollowly as she slipped the key into the pocket on her hip. She'd pondered the ipod but decided she didn't really need a soundtrack for this.
Spent a few minutes braiding her hair somewhat proud of having mastered such a girly skill.
Slipped in and gently nudged off and just drifted for a moment letting the initial push carry as she looked around just noting odd things. The woman picking up after her little fluffy while tugging on the pink harness and retractable lead. A pelican sitting on a marker buoy its wings lifting now and then to balance as it watched. The small ferry maybe a k in front heading across the river to Greenwich she thought. The odd windsurfer and small yacht flipping and skimming as she began to paddle slowly and evenly side to side. Gentle even strokes, she was in no hurry after all.
Twenty minutes maybe as she edged into the Western edge of the Harbour proper and found a good deal more 'traffic' though nothing more troublesome than a dickhead water taxi leaving a large wake as she headed for the Bridge. Again she took the edges and eased along noting the scenery, the city and Opera House on her right. The Prime Ministers Sydney house on the left and on past inlets and the houses mixed into the bushland, the odd jetty and past the Zoo. She could see Manly away over on her left as she took a bit more of a pull on the paddle and stepped up the pace a little. Wouldn't do to get run over by a container ship or something, that would be embarrassing.
The chop building up let her know, if the increase in wind and expanse in front did not, that she was edging toward the ocean. A much darker blue and the thought popped in, how deep was it just here? Deep enough she was sure. She took a long slow breath and looked around, just a little spec on the water with nothing close and the rough brown cliff sitting back over her shoulder making no comment.
With a harsh grunt she planted the paddle hard and leant into the stroke pushing and swinging side to side as the waves bounced under her and the small spray tips flicked her face and an occasional curious gull dived and squealed as if mocking her efforts.
The fin startled her and a sudden surge of fear bit before she recognised the rounded shape and smiled slightly as another four surged up around and rode her little wave for a moment before vanishing. She felt just slightly bereft to be alone again and laughed aloud pushing harder, leaning deep into the swing and bite of the paddle.
How long..... she was unsure but her lungs ached and her arms and legs burned as she gasped and sucked hard to get enough oxygen to stop her vision swimming. Stopped just bobbing on the light swell, drifting for a minute as she tried to get her breath and with a glance when she was able looked behind and tried to guess how far off shore she was. Two three k maybe, the cliffs were still visible so at water level she wasn't far out, but far enough, that's for sure.
As the burn and gasp settled she looked around just smelling the sea and tried to imagine the depth below and the height above and then the deep dark unimaginable distances out from there to... the swirling cloud of whatever was there, or maybe just emptiness as the bits of space just thinned and stretched out to nothing at all.
She drifted for a while just trying to fit the little microbe of herself into the universal immensity and felt small and meaningless yet untroubled by it. It didn't matter after all, did it.
The feeling of lifting struck a sudden fear as she pondered earthquake and then laughed feebly and with a brittle edge. The water was rising under her and she vaguely wondered if her thoughts had roused some alien space ship from the depths and then muttered at her own stupidity. Flailed slightly to stay upright as she slid to the side in a wash as a huge grey blue barnacle crusted bulk slid scratchingly under her. The spout that followed with a spray and a sour musty smell focused her thoughts as she paddled to the side in a semi circle and edged alongside the huge bulk that raised a mammoth fin as though inviting a scratch on some itch or maybe a wave hello.
It rolled and she wobbled and had to concentrate on staying upright again and noted the smaller though still about five times her size creamy blue grey calf that had emerged behind Mum. Another spout, smaller with a slightly sweeter smell followed by a loud grunting warbling cry unlike anything she had ever heard.
They both, in wide circles seemed to nudge and play with this little bath toy thing they had discovered. Fortunately they did not drop on her after a roll or swat her with a fin the size of her car. Even babies was bigger than she was and would have hurt for sure. Or cracked the kayak in two, it would be a long swim.
Maybe ten minutes before they slid with a last spout and echoey squeal into the dark water, vanishing completely in seconds. She was totally covered in spray and had a huge smile on her face and a vague thought that the greenie wardens would be planting tickets on her kayak for interfering with a migrating whale or some such crap had they seen. Hell, she was the duck in the bath tub here. No one would believe this, but she was glad she had not had a camera to hand.
With a laugh and huge grin on her face she turned and paddled slowly toward the brown line of the cliffs in the distance.
Her mood had lasted all the way home and she had hummed while making a nice dinner after spending some time tidying and at least doing her bit toward making home comfortable and pleasant. Her man would be home soon and she wanted to be ready and apologise for not being quite what he needed her to be and let him know she was grateful and would try to be the woman he wanted.
He had smiled a little ruefully on arrival and apologised for being snarky that morning and they had chatted and had a drink while she puttered about serving dinner and they sat and ate and it was nice. Gentle conversation enquiring after each others day and smiling and nodding at little things though for some reason she did not mention the kayak or the paddle she had had.
They sat watching telly and she had rolled her eyes at some comment he made about a show she liked and he thought was stupid. His face had twisted in anger and the barked insult was so sudden and brutal the tears had come which brought on the cold mockery.
She retreated to the kitchen as he channel surfed in the background. Cleaning up and wiping though she had done that hours earlier and he had helped some too.
She tried once or twice to talk and then just sat silently while he watched some inane American comedy with canned laughter that jarred her nerves as though a broken tooth was warring with fingernails on a blackboard for attention. The shiver of irritation had been seen and he had barked out...
"What, too fuckin' smart for this shit are you you useless fucking excuse for a woman. Why do I fucking stay here if I am such a lowly piece of crap to Mizz High n Fuckin mighty wannabee woman. Shit you are a poor excuse for a girlfriend I must be fucking daft. You can't even give over like a real woman can you, it would probably be like fucking a rubber doll. Shit a doll would be more fun." He had spat and glowered at her and then sat staring and sipping his beer waiting for some reaction.
She just sat still and flinched every time he moved and the fart caused her to cry out so sudden and loud was the noise. He had laughed and jumped up standing in front of her and bent down right in her face and let out a huge thunderous rolling burp. It smelt and she turned sideways grimacing.
"Don't you turn your face away from me you fucking pathetic not even bitch." he growled sneeringly his face almost touching hers.
That anger had sprayed her both literally and figuratively as she flinched and let out a small squeak of fear. She barely felt the punches too stunned to move or cry out. It was a minute or so later she had wondered who had called the cops.
She held the statement on her lap and tried to read it. Rachel gently coaxed her to .." take your time..", just read it through and once you agree that is what you said sign and date there at the bottom.
She had tried three times as the tears had started to roll. The male copper had left and come back a minute later with a box of tissues and handed it to her. She smiled in thanks as he expressionlessly returned to his seat opposite.
Took a deep breath and clenched the pen tight in her hand as it shook and she tried to think this through and do what she had to do.
Sat it down on the desk and slid the sheet of paper alongside it with a sigh clenching her hands together tightly in her lap as she shook slightly before raising her chin and looking Rachel in the eye.
" No, sorry."
" You What. " The other cop blurted. Rachel put her hand on his leg as he went to stand and he stayed put grinding his teeth.
" I can't. He's not bad really and I... I mean he deserves better doesn't he..", as Rachel sat stony faced unmoving but her eyes sad.
" You don't understand. I Need Someone, don't you see, Everyone needs someone and what other chance do I have. Who would want me. I... I know he's sorry, it will be fine." I was crying again now though not really aware of it and sad that I had let this woman down. I muttered a quiet sorry and stood. She followed and led me out.
I turned and looked at her as she stood silent, her thoughts hidden behind the sad eyes.
I tried twice to speak and then blurted out, " What other chance does someone like me have at a relationship."
~~ perhaps an end of sorts, imperfect though it is ~~
This is not auto-biographical though as ever there are bits of me in there. Just a few ideas that bobbing about in the back of my mind coalesced into a story idea that morphed subtly as the final line came to me while half watching telly one night. I originally had it titled The Price of Love but that was a bit blunt, so... Anyway, something to think on maybe. Everyone is at least a little different and perspective is a curious beast. I do hope no one recognises too much in this.
Written over a few hours on a slightly cool and overcast Saturday afternoon.
Any thoughts, comments, questions or criticisms welcome. Just be polite.
by Kristina L.S.
So how did he end up there, wherever there is…
Lonely roads and lost towns. Quiet places where you can think.
Not that that necessarily gets you anywhere.
Space is what it is, as are people.
This is a work of adult fiction.
No resemblance to reality should be inferred or expected.
Copyright : KLS 2007
Escape to Yourself - Before
By Kristina.L.S.
He sat arms on knees and watched as the road train pulled away, slowly gathering speed and gradually disappearing into the heat haze. Pulled himself to his feet and looked toward where his hat had sailed after being tossed Frisbee like from the drivers window. His small leather duffle sat only a few metres away, covered in soft red brown dust. He patted himself down a little raising clouds of dust. Crossed the road and after a minute or so found his hat snagged on a piece of brush, slapped it twice on his thigh to clear dust and maybe a bug or two and jammed it back on his head.
Re-crossed the road to his bag and searched for a patch of shade, to sit and gather his thoughts. A few dusty eucalypts offered some small respite from the heat so grabbing the shoulder strap of his bag he wandered the few hundred metres along the road and sat on the sparse grass against the trunk.
The view was slightly uninspiring, a few scattered farm buildings away to his right across the road. He briefly considered heading there and asking for… what? He had two one and half litre water bottles tucked in his bag, he'd eaten only a few hours before and unfortunately had drunk coffee. Expecting to be riding in the truck cabin for a few hours the diuretic properties had taken a back seat to warm pleasure after the post dawn chill. He shrugged slightly, he'd walk and see where the road went.
Slipped a little more upright and into a cross-legged position, absently pulling the hat from his head and the elastic tie with it, shook out his hair. Running his fingers quickly through it a few times to shake loose a bit of dust and grit. His gaze wandered the other way spotting a big wedge tail sitting on a fence post some hundred metres or so up into a paddock, slowly and deliberately pulling pieces from what appeared to be the carcass of a small roo. As he watched he almost unconsciously finger combed and slowly plaited his hair twisting the tie to hold its end between his shoulder blades.
Every so often the Eagle would hop slightly, stretching its wings for balance, to resettle itself and adjust the position of dinner. He tried to judge its size and guessed the wingspan would be wider than he was tall. That brought a small wry smile to his lips, 'outclassed by a bloody bird'… impressive though it was. He sat there for a while just daydreaming and half watching the bird feed. Eventually it launched itself lazily into the air, the remainder of its food clutched in the talons and trailing out behind and below. As it slowly gained height and drifted almost effortlessly off toward the distant hills, his thoughts returned to the immediate past.
He'd been dropped at a crossroads, the taciturn, fortyish driver of the old Landcruiser seemed troubled by his near silent passenger.
The quiet, semi question, "I can take you as far as Taylors Rd, if that's any good…"
He had no idea where Taylors Rd was so just nodded and climbed in. The ride had been completely silent after that until, the Toyota pulled over, "Well this is far as I go this way. You take care ok. Not everyone's as easygoing as you might hope."
"Thanks, I'll be careful." He'd climbed out as the guy watched silently sucking his teeth as though trying to decide something. Then blowing out softly he nodded through the open window and with a languid wave, headed on to wherever he was going.
He stood for a minute watching the Toyota kick up the dust on the dirt side road and then turned to head along the edge of the tar strip heading vaguely north. Walked for an hour or two waving off a couple of cars that slowed as if to ask…'lift?' Finally as dusk approached he had come across one of those semi official truck stop lay-bys. Seven rigs pulled off the road forming a makeshift camp. The drivers, all men were either sitting on small folding camp chairs waiting for the water suspended over the fire to boil, or doing end of day checks before settling down for the evening.
As each became aware of the lone figure they had stopped talking or doing and silently watched, making those automatic assumptions we all make and asking silent questions.
As he got close the question was called, "What the hell are you doin' walkin' around out here on yer own girl? Come in and have a cuppa."
Another small folding chair was produced and he sat with a silent nod as they all gathered closer and watched silently. The conversation slowly resumed as they quietly watched from the corners of their eyes. As the water came to the boil each poured their preferred poison, a cup was produced as both tins were waved in question, 'tea or coffee?'
"Coffee, please." A Long life milk carton and a small container of sugar were nudged with a boot toe to indicate, 'help yourself '. He fixed his cup and sat, leaning forward elbows on knees, sipping… silently aware of the unasked questions.
The conversation rambled on around him as he half listened and half daydreamed. Memories of old battles, scars both emotional and physical for some reason seemed closer than normal tonight. He was peripherally aware of the quiet scrutiny of those around the fire, but it was distant as he gazed into the flames, sipped his coffee and remembered.
His thoughts flashed back and forth following no logical pattern as dreams often did. Did that apply while you were still awake he mused to himself… seemed so.
People and places he'd been and met, names he could remember and many he could not. Confrontations and an occasional pleasant scene.
His Father, slapping him hard enough across the face to drop him to the ground because he had dared to argue. His Mother shaking him violently back and forth and screaming at him… enough with the questions just do as you're told. The spittle sticking to his face and the feeling of it drying… still vivid, as was the memory of her tears.
School days; being chased, over under and around by those deputised to bring him to the teacher, until he had finally stopped and given himself up. Later being beaten and teased until he had reacted violently when confronted by five of his main tormentors. The taunts and images still rang clear years later; that day when one of his adversaries had stopped him on the way to class. Surrounded by his peers he had held out his clenched fist as the mob slowly surrounded…'kiss it'… and when defiantly he had, then licking the knuckles and spitting on the ground, that fist had smashed into his face bringing stars and a small trickle of blood. And so it went until his retaliation had gotten so frenzied and violent that no one was willing to deliberately chance his wrath.
From then on the taunts were lessened and the abuse almost stopped. The odd 'freak' loudly whispered as he passed, an occasional slap to the back of the head when it was impossible to determine who out of a dozen. But, generally he was left alone… and that was how he liked it.
Jobs and relationships, none lasted and all were left either puzzled or saddened or angry. For him it was another question, 'what did they want that he could not give?' And so it went.
He had gradually developed a system to take menial jobs as and when to fill his account as much as possible, before heading off again in search of… what?
His thoughts were shaken back to the present by the stamping of feet and the general busy-ness of bedtime preparations. It seemed he had been dreaming for hours. His quiet request to be allowed to bed down near the fire had been laughed at, his blush and obvious anger even more.
A hand on his shoulder had caused a jump to a fight stance that had startled them all.
"Hey come on there. Easy lass. No offence was meant by the laughter, we are all bedding down here in the open, but take the cabin"… he waved to a nearby truck with a sleeping alcove behind the seats. " No one will bother ya, you have our word. Sleep easy and we'll see where ya headin' and what may be done in the mornin' eh."
He had after a few minutes accepted the invitation as genuine and after a dark behind bushes toilet break, climbed into the cabin and slept till near dawn.
The first noises of the new day had roused him and he had crept out intending to start the fire and get water boiling. It seemed though that the owner of the truck had beaten him to it. A softly spoken, "Never you mind lassie, go have a pee and coffee will be up in a minute. Then we'll see about where ya's goin'."
And so he had washed his face in the night chilled water from a small tank, re-plaited his hair and relieved himself behind a bush. Feeling slightly revived he returned to hot cup and an unspoken question.
It was perhaps another hour before all were up and about and ready to depart. After failing to get any definite destination they had all decided he would ride with the owner of the truck he'd slept in, getting out when and where it suited.
That had been fine until the questions started not long after they had set out. At first he had refused to answer. The questions became more pointed and more personal. Until finally the driver had stopped in the middle of the back country road.
"Listen you stupid little bitch. I don't care about who you are or where you are not going to. I just don't want to hear about you raped and dead in a ditch somewhere. I don't want that image in my head, do you understand. So just give me an answer to a question, why is everyone your enemy? Most people are kind and good given the chance. But you don't let anyone get even close do you."
He had sat glaring and slowly getting angrier as his passenger just sat glaring back looking to be ready for a fight.
Eventually he had grabbed the hat from the dash and flung it out his window with a yell of rage and frustration. He jumped down and stormed across the front of the truck, grabbed open the passenger door and pulled the still silent passenger out and dumped her on her arse in the dust beside the road. When she still made no sound but simply glared at him, he reached in grabbed her bag strap and flung it backwards over his shoulder.
"You stupid little cow. I hope you get your head on straight before some lowlife kicks it in. But what little I've seen of you I doubt it. Grow up before you lose the chance."
With that his anger seemed to fade and he simply stood looking at her sitting where she been dropped. When after a few minutes there was no response save a sullen glare he yelled again in an inarticulate mixture of frustration and muted anger. Raising both arms above his head fists clenched he had stared into the sky for a moment before his arms lowered slowly and he stood again, just looking. Still there was nothing but a stubborn stare. With a soft guttural grunt he had turned and rounded his truck, climbed up and slamming the door hard, headed away with a slight crunch of gears.
It was he guessed mid morning and the heat was well up. He had been walking for a few hours he supposed and had almost emptied one of his water bottles. Another car had just driven past with no hint of stopping…
This took slightly longer than the first bit. I don't think there will be any more.
Any thoughts, comments or questions
I can be contacted [email protected]
Anything short of abuse welcome.
A few hours on a Saturday night, so what ya gonna do...
Lonely roads and lost towns. Quiet places where you can think.
Not that that necessarily gets you anywhere.
Space is what it is, as are people.
This is a work of adult fiction.
No resemblance to reality should be inferred or expected.
Copyright : KLS 2007
Escape to Yourself
By Kristina.L.S.
He really had no idea where he was and surprising as that may be to some, he welcomed it. Being nowhere was good. Every-time he was somewhere; there was trouble. It wasn't like he wanted to be a trouble magnet but that seemed to be the case. All he had to do was, be… wherever and the shit hit the fan. So he avoided people. Kept away from the mobs, anywhere that so called fellow humans gathered in any sort of number.
The heat shimmered in the distance, causing everything to dance and sway to some off time beat.
Another car; the second in… nearly an hour he thought… probably should get a watch… wizzed past; windows closed, air-conditioning on max, against the heat. Not even a turn of the head to acknowledge the upturned thumb. The lone figure out here, in the middle of wherever the hell this was, slight and carrying nothing but a small duffle. Hardly a threat, there was nowhere for a gang of accomplices to hide, but still it was a risk. I mean who wants to take a chance and invite… well whatever evil no doubt lurks in the mind of this… person. Shit, I mean who would choose to walk alone… here.
The thought intruded itself… time mattered. 'Oh please, don't start that crap again. Time, what a load of shit.' All a clock had ever meant to him was failure.~ ~You were too slow. You're late. Stop thinking, just do it like I tell you. The rules are there for a reason. Time waits for no man. Get it into gear son, clocks a tickin'. ~~ There was a whole bunch more but what difference did it make. Time and him did not get on.
For some reason he had never quite been able to explain, the question, 'Why?' always hung in the air in front of everything. Since he was old enough to ask it, it had been there. At first people where pleased or amused, 'what a delightfully precocious child'… ' if only others would ask'… But that soon changed to irritation. The smile became a frown and if only became, just do what I say.
His introspection was interrupted by a strange sound. It took him a moment to realise what it was… a car was slowing to a stop beside him. Now that was odd. Here he was hands in pockets his whole body clenched against the heat, not making any attempt to bum a ride and this lunatic… stops.
The battered old cattle truck slowed and stopped just behind him. Martha took in the slight figure that she had first thought to be a girl, but now was not sure. Why on earth would anyone be walking out here? It was miles from anywhere and you could die here within hours.
She watched as the figure took another few steps before registering that the truck had stopped. Watched as it straightened, stretched slightly and turned toward her.
She… well, she had expected a smile of gratitude. But instead she got a stare of… emptiness? Total indifference? For some reason she shivered and could not think why…except… ' Was this a man or a woman? And anyway what the hell was whoever this was doing here? '
Her eyes roamed the figure that stood, what five yards away, just looking at her. Waiting for what? A bloody invitation for Christ's sake? Shit. It was 46 fuckin degrees; enough to fry a bloody egg on the dashboard. Well come on ya daft little shit, whatever you are. Get in here out of the damn heat.
Martha rolled the window down just enough to call…"Well come on then I didn't bloody stop for the fun of it, get you're arse in here. It's fuckin' hot and I wanna get home. "
Even then the girl stood as if unsure whether she wanted to get in or stay where she was, walking out here in the desert. Christ, a nutter, just what she needed. Still couldn't leave the stupid fool out here to die.
The slight figure in faded denim jeans and shirt with a light tan cotton jacket hanging loosely on her frame stood quite still. A dusty brown leather duffle slung over the left shoulder and just as dusty and similar coloured boots pointed her way. A faded and sweat stained akubra tilted low over the eyes hid the face somewhat.
Martha decided she would make one last offer. "Well are you gonna stand out here and bake or get in… and tell me your name?", that last muttered near silently.
He stood silently appraising this woman and her offer. It was a simple human gesture of help he supposed. Yet nothing was what it seemed anymore. Everything always depended on explanations and assumptions being met or dismissed. He sighed silently, ... 'why couldn't it ever be a simple, I can take you this far and then I'm gone, no questions.' ... Well that wouldn't be human would it? People have questions and want answers. Doesn't matter at all whether you want to give them or not.
With an almost unnoticeable shrug he moved toward her and Martha suddenly had a twinge of fear. 'What the hell was she doing? Picking up… whoever this was in the middle of nowhere.'
The door opened and a soft voice…"Thanks for stopping. I figured I'd be walking all day."
She squinted a little trying to decide who she had picked up. 'Was it a girl or a guy?' Her eyes roamed up and down and her mind spun trying to make a decision.
He slammed the door not too hard and stuffing his bag between his legs turned to the woman that had called him in. The question on her face was as plain as a sign. Who or what are you? He closed his eyes and sighed softly.
Opened and looked straight at her, "Does it matter?"
She jumped as though shocked.
"What? What the hell do you mean does it matter?" 'Christ who is this and why the fuck did I stop.' Her thoughts were spinning. Maddened murderers, sex fiends, alien invaders. 'Bloody government, should keep loony's locked up instead of letting them roam wild.'
He sighed again, this time out loud.
"If you could just drop me anywhere near a town… wherever's convenient."
She looked at… her. Eyes closed and seemingly no threat. Yet, she was afraid. Martha put the truck in gear and headed toward town.
The ride of perhaps forty minutes was silent except for the whistle of the air around the truck and the quiet whir of the tyres on the road.
He stirred from a semi sleep as the truck pulled to the side or the road. Missed the first part of the woman's statement.
"…'s a nice little town. A few hundred people, easy going. Might find some work if ya's lookin'. Anyway, this is as far as I go, I'm off thataway…" she gestured with a vague arm wave. The still slightly puzzled expression on her face told him she had not made any decisions… either way. Good enough, he thought. At least he was free to go for now.
"Just a few k down the road an' ya's there. " There was a slightly hopeful expression on her face as she looked at him. Her gaze flicked up and down, trying to decide.
He nodded to her, "Thanks for the ride. I appreciate it." Climbed out grabbing his bag and softly slammed the door. Stood there as she looked at him through the glass and then without a gesture beyond a slight shake of the head, pulled out and headed away.
Martha's eye's flicked to the rearview as she pulled away. The girl just stood there looking in the direction of town. Not even glancing at the truck as it pulled away.
"Well that is something weird. Better off out of it Martha old girl." Her eyes flicked forward toward home and with them so went her thoughts.
His ears told him the truck had pulled away and once again he was alone in the wilderness. 'A few k to whereverville huh. Oh well, no better, no worse probably.'
He shifted the bag on his shoulder and pushed the hat a bit tighter on his head. 'Let's see what the future brings.'
He didn't even glance left or right, the silence told him nothing was close. Crossed the dirt verge and the strip of tar and back onto dirt and kept to the left side as he headed into…
…don't ask for answers. I probably don't have them.
Any thoughts, comments or questions
I can be contacted [email protected]
Anything short of abuse welcome.
A road into a small town that leads…
Lonely roads and lost towns. Quiet places where you can think.
Not that that necessarily gets you anywhere.
Space is what it is, as are people.
This is a work of adult fiction.
No resemblance to reality should be inferred or expected.
Copyright : KLS 2007
Escape to Yourself - After
By Kristina.L.S.
The heat hadn't gotten any less not that he had any real problem with heat. It was just there and as long as you weren't stupid was not a problem. He guessed he'd been walking about long enough to see some sign of the town shortly. If it was really a few k as she said. Distance was sometimes a bit vague with people out here. A few k might be 50, but he guessed not in this case. 'She seemed to expect a short walk would get you there, so it wouldn't be long now', he thought.
Of course the question of, 'what then?' wafted in and settled in his head like a fat fly in a shop front window.
It was only a short while later when the tar ended at a sign, 'Little Creek' with an old single lane wooden bridge over the small winding gully that was presumably the creek. Non-existent was probably more accurate, the few stunted and droopy acacias and dwindling brush following that wavy line in each direction making it plain that water was not abundant. As he crossed his gaze wandered up both ways following the creek, not even a small puddle could be seen. But a strange whining up and down buzz seemed to drift closer.
He had just come off the wooden planking and onto graded dirt when a screaming whine from his immediate left caused him to stop and turn to see a green and black and silver thing fly up from the creek bed straight at him. Adrenaline surged as he threw himself flat as the thing soared maybe waist height above, landing a metre or two away and spinning in a swirl of dust, before stopping and then… silence.
As the dust slowly settled he rolled sideways and sat on the roadside looking at the slowly dissipating cloud. When it had cleared enough to see he realised he'd been 'attacked' by a giant hunchbacked praying mantis. The black goggle eyes stared blankly at him and then the figure straightened and he realised it was a fancy dirt bike, mudguards, tank and wrist guards all lime green, a smattering of silver alloy here and there. The rider in dirty black and green leathers and the insect head helmet.
It took another few seconds before the helmet was pulled off and the figure shaking out long dark brown hair stomped over to him and stopped almost standing on his toes.
"Shit you scared the crap outa me. I thought I was gonna die when I seen you standin' there on the edge a the road. Lucky I didn't run ya skinny arse over, eh." Then she burst in to laughter. "Damn girl, you shoulda seen your face. Ya gotta brown patch in the back a them jeans or what, eh?"
He sat looking this lunatic up and down as her eyes did the same to him. Her smile was infectious and he couldn't help but return it.
"Do you always run over visitors to your town?"
"Nah not regular like. Some people get a bit shitty if ya use their arse as a bike rack, eh. Not sure ya can call this little shit pile a town though. So what ya doin' walkin' along out here, puttin' me off ma ride? I can see the road and there's dust from this side… didn't expect some skinny arse girl to be walkin', that's fer sure. You gonna sit there all day, come on…" she held out a gloved hand to help the dusty girl to her feet.
He took the gloved hand and felt the strength as she almost pulled him to his feet with a soft grunt. The wide grin that could easy sell toothpaste was still there, set off a little by the light brown skin.
"So blondie what ya doin? Ya don't say much do ya?"
Rather than answer he looked around for his hat and steeped across to grab it up and again slap the dust off. His duffle was still slung bandolier style over his shoulder.
She was still standing in the same spot… waiting for some sort of answer he guessed.
"I was hoping to get a bit of work for a little while, top up the account before I head on. " He shrugged slightly and stood looking and waiting…
"Huh, might be ya lucky day blondie. Me Uncle Jimmy runs the pub in town. Could use someone on the bar at night. I help out, but still a skinny arse white chickie would go down well with the local blokes. They all know me and I don't take their shit. A bit a fresh meat will cheer 'em up no end." She laughed at her own joke and he had to smile.
She might be mad, not to mention a chatterbox, but she seemed ok. 'As long as she doesn't ask too many questions.'
"So come on blondie, jump on the back here and I'll give ya's a lift, show ya the sights an all, eh."
She remounted the bike and he gingerly climbed on behind and at a prompt hung on tight. She grabbed his hat off and stuck it under her thigh…and took off.
He did manage to get a look at the town as they passed through to the far end. A church hall, with a smaller church next to it. A dozen businesses or so, a bank with a for lease sign on the door. Garage with two pumps out front and that was it.
She dinnn, diinnnn, diinnnnnned behind the pub and shut off the bike. Both climbed off and he looked around casually.
"Just so's ya know blondie. Jimmy is me Uncle and the owner licensee. He's half Irish half blackfella. Me Dad got his head kicked in a few year back after a drunk and me mum took off. He was full blackfella she was a blondie like you. The old ladies in town call me coffee oh lay with a click a the tongue. I think they want me ta be embarrassed. Screw that… I like, me." Her grin was wide and easy and he could not help but smile back.
"Oh Jimmy don't drink by the way. Reckons grog an' him don't get on. Seems funny him runnin' the pub an' all. Oh yeah…I'm Genna."
She took him by one hand and led him to a large corrugated iron shed.
"Don't wanna offend ya or nuthin' blondie but you stink. So get ya arse in there and have a shower huh. You do have a change in ya little bag, right?" He nodded dumbly.
"Good, so get on, I'll be back in a bit. Gotta go tell Jimmy I've picked up a stray. He'll laugh. Oh…you are eighteen aren't ya?"
"Um…what's the date? "
"Shit, I don't bloody know. Mid September somewhere. "
"Well my birthday was late August, so I guess I'm eighteen."
"Good, ya's legal. Saves complications with the license. Get on then, I'll be back in a bit."
He sniffed his armpit and shrugged… well it had been a few days. Pushed the swing door open and dropping his hat and bag on a wooden bench, began to strip.
Hair loose he twisted the taps and soon had steam billowing. With a delighted shiver, walked under the steaming water and soaped up, didn't want to be long.
It was only a few minutes and he was rinsing off, when the door swung open, letting in a swirl of cool air.
"Figured ya might want a coupla towels blondie. Ya could tell me a name one a these days too I guess…" She stopped with a slightly puzzled expression as he stood stark naked, with nowhere to run.
Her eyes roamed up and down a few times before she threw him the towels.
"Shit girl, skinny thing aint ya. Or is that boy? Nah, me seven year old cousins got a bigger mushroom than that, eh. You're a girl, not much up top though. Come on then. Get dressed I need ta shower meself and Jimmy'll get in a snit if we's late fa dinner. "
Hope this does the trick. It told itself to me during the day and story knows best.
Any thoughts, comments or questions
I can be contacted [email protected]
Anything short of abuse welcome.
A knock on the door brings memories full circle.
Can you choose to get off the merry go round?
Just a short note about... stuff.
Some names may have been changed to protect...
Copyright KLS 2006.
Family Circles
By Kristina.L.S.
1.
It was a gentle Sunday morning and all the chores were done. Puppies brushed, clothes washed, house vacuumed, coffee made. Time to noodle on the old laptop.
But then a ding-dong echoed through, not a common thing on Sunday morning or most other times either. The tall solid guy standing there with his back to the door surprised me, until he turned around. That same bushy moustache and almost crew cut. Those same gentle, pale blue eyes. Seeming sadder than normal, but then he wouldn't be here after 14 years if there wasn't a reason.
His gaze wandered up and down, pausing briefly, before resting on my face. It occurred to me that my eyes were darker, wonder why that was, they used to be identical. We did the hi how are you stuff, all without names, as I invited him in and did the quick tour and then coffee... tea? Sat and looked and measured.
His gaze paused again, the old grandpa shirt hung in places it never could 14 years ago, and no doubt there were other differences as well.
"So I assume there's a reason you're here. I mean to track me down wouldn't have been hard but..." I shrugged as I stopped and waited for my brother to say whatever he had to say.
"It's dad... he... He is not well has been in hospital most of this year and well... it doesn't look like... It doesn't look good and I figured you would want to at least see him."
My thoughts roamed back over the years to good and then not quite so good memories. There was never any overt distaste or violence, just a quiet refusal to acknowledge. A 'universal', it's not really true so just pretend it isn't there. A not even hidden mothers disappointment that her boy could be, one of those.
And so at 22 I had left. I no longer had a family, letters to mum and dad, brothers and sister in explanation of feelings and beliefs had brought no response, so...
Johnny talked me through the recent history, of illness and hospital. Of missed diagnosis and then transfer to larger and finally an answer and treatment. But he was weakened and could not take the full dosage and so...
Conversation switched to others Joseph and Ginny, both now married with kids, as was John. I was the only hold out it seemed. Mum was fine. Then neutral topics, music, a shared love, once a binding thing. Now? Another difference? Esoteric musicians and discs, names were tossed around as a few titles found there way to the player as a distraction.
He left an hour later leaving me with a letter giving ward and such if I wanted to visit. I said I would as he left with that same sad eyed smile, no contact or name, same old same old.
He rang the next night. I gave him home and mobile and e-mail, now thought that maybe that wasn't a good idea. I had a life of sorts. Would it now devolve to what it had been 14 years ago? Was I enough myself to say no at a given point?
I was going out Friday morning I said. Alone I said. But of course...
The next night another call, he would come with me if that was all right, had taken the day off. So how could I say no. He would pick me up and drive out.
The 45-minute drive was kept conversation free by the CD playing. Just a, "hello, ready?"
No name, no comment on clothing. I gazed out the window and tried to imagine...
John pointed with his chin across the room to a corner bed. An old man, mouth and eyes partly open, head tilted to one side unmoving, wispy white hair. The occasional attempt at swallowing or opening his eyes the only evidence of life.
Close up unshaven raspy bristles against the back of my hand as I brushed the cheek. Uncovered an arm and finally recognition. Yes those were dad's hands. The pale watery blue eyes were not as they were. Lacking spark or knowledge. He mumbled the odd disjointed phrase as I tried to connect.
The Doctor had come and outlined the stages of treatment. Almost apologetic at previous failure. Had he been able to take... but now... unstoppable, was progressing still... terminal. Consider palliative care... soon. Two, six, a year, who knows.
Finally, recognition, the eyes lit slightly, a mumbled name, one that hadn't been used for years, " knew he'd come back", half joking mixed with nonsense, yes this was dad. Same old same old. Why didn't I feel sadder? Nothing changes; it just goes around in a circle. He drifted in and out, was not in pain they said. A few hours later we left, with decisions endorsed and options looked at.
The CD played again as I gazed out the window. He dropped me home with a, " well keep in touch, we'll talk later."
"Yes I will. I'll go out again. Talk to you later."
I went inside not looking back as he drove away. The puppies bounced and greeted me as puppies do. Made coffee and sat on the back step, with memories and possible futures wandering in and out.
Finally the tears started, but who were they for?
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No resemblance to reality should be inferred or expected. Except this time.
Copyright KLS 2010.
By Kristina.L.S.
I wasn't with her that day as she took another trip in across the city to the Docs at St Vinnies. Several appointments with various doctors and assorted tests and scans to find out why she just didn't feel quite right. So, I don't know for sure how she took the news. A pinch of shock I suspect mixed with a dose of hard nosed... 'huh, well we'll see' and a dash of, not exactly orthodox religion type, spiritual... so be it. I can picture the scene, the doctor looking all serious and a little sad because he liked her and it was never easy. Cancer, inoperable... terminal and likely to be so in a few months. Just the thing to brighten your day. So she troops off back to the train and heads home and I meet her up at the station after work.
"I've got some bad news for you..."
I've known her all my life and she was always the slightly eccentric one. A bit of a black sheep in a gentle sort of way. The fun loving gypsy in a crowd of conservatives. A caring and gentle woman who everyone wanted to be friends with. She did have a temper though, a tongue that could tear strips off people, as she mixed facts to suit the current argument. Mostly though she was sweet and kind and generous with a big dose of wide eyed little girl innocence.
We'd bumped into each other quite by chance one day as she was coming down and I was going up a staircase in an arcade in the city. Hadn't seen her for years, so we did coffee and chatted a bit and discovered we only lived a few k apart. Walking distance, go figure.
Ah... see, I was still in guy mode back then, mid nineties a sort of struggling doubt phase, though just a wee bit on the girly side for a regular guy, it was was often surmised I was gay. People do tend to go with the more obvious choice, a girly guy has to be gay, simple. Shrug, so it goes.
But she didn't really care about that sort of thing and so I started to wander round to her place and talk and listen to music and then one night as I was lying stretched out on the floor leaning on one elbow, she made an observation.
"You look so cute lying there with your hair hanging down. Almost like a girl."
So there was the moment... just hanging there. Just a teensy bit loaded as I'd been there and done that with the family a few years earlier and that had gone real well, cough. Do I tell her or just smile and shrug it off?
"Well, funny you say that Auntie C. Um I don't suppose you've heard about me from mum or someone in the family, you'd have said by now, but...."
Gist of it is I told her and she was cool, even offering some of her older daughters clothes that she had tucked away. They'd probably fit she said even though I was a little taller. So here she was the 'mad' Auntie, just going with the flow and not flustered at all. I can say and maybe you get it... that meant quite a lot.
Regular visits and phone calls and we became friends more than rellies and as I made my way to Kristina she backed me up quietly and never worried about other people. Quietened my fears with phrases like.."Oh you're so lucky to be so lovely and tall.." And .." I love your hair, I wish I had that blondie red and those lovely blue eyes.."
Still as I said, she did have a temper and we fought at times like cat and dog, or cat and cat maybe, whatever. She might have been slight, but her tongue could strip wallpaper. Had the knack of being able to find the vulnerable spots to cut deep. Vicious and hurtful and even as you recognised the broken logic and half truths she used it still brought tears often as not.
But she very rarely held a grudge and any tantrum would soon be forgotten and if I might sulk for a few days and not talk to her it would all blow over once the initial outburst was past. Just how she was and yes, I've deservedly been on the receiving end a few times. She was always quicker than I to react and let fly if she felt it needed. Different generations and personalities and when I'd question her as to how she could be so hurtful she would reply, that she never really meant it and she did love me but sometimes she needed to and sometimes I needed it too, plus... she was allowed, but if anyone else said or did anything they'd face her and she meant it. You could never really stay angry or upset for too long.
We kept in touch as I moved a few times and she went through a couple of changes in hair style. Always with the fluid gypsy, almost hippie style clothing. All the scarves and Indian bangles and soft bright cottons. She'd taken some grief over the years for being a half caste. Anglo Indian, well a quarter I guess, her Mum was half darkie and half whitey and Dad was a German, Czech, Brit blend. What did that make me? About an eighth, though it didn't show, I got all the Anglo colouring from my Dad, a Scot. Anyway she loved all the flowing clothes and silver jewellery and she had that lovely dusky skin that I envied as it held the years at bay.
She'd tell me stories of the old days in India, the beauty and noise of it, the poverty and richness. Servants and 'wallahs' mostly Mohammedan's, she never heard the word Moslem till years later. India before partition, trains up into the Punjab and trips into the Hindu Kush. Catholic boarding school in Rawalpindi and the easy cruelty of the nuns. She was protected some by being the daughter of an English officer but being not quite of one race or the other was never easy. The whites looked down on you and the locals treated you with suspicion. She was there when Ghandi was shot and with her mother and sister, were trapped in a shoe shop for two days as the rioting went on.
The holy men in saffron robes and conflicts with Catholicism. Incense and colour, the smells and stories of a different world, one that had never been mentioned as I grew up. As the brothers moved away to Canada and left India behind never to mention it again. Oh dear, did she get in trouble during a trip in the late eighties when she told the nieces and nephews of their heritage. It did in part I suppose support my ages old desire to visit Northern India and Afghanistan, something unlikely to happen now the way things are. She visited South America for several months, another dream of mine. How could I not love her and envy her.
The story of the choice after the war, Canada or Australia and the journey by ship. The amazement at some simple things like vacuum cleaners or a milk shake. Different worlds.
I was interstate doing the muso thing back when she did that big trip to the Americas and so missed a lot of the background stuff. She came back to a murder of her older daughters hubby and a somewhat poisoned relationship and her younger was into drugs, again. Half sisters to different fathers, the elder a beautiful European blonde and the younger a stunning dark exotic beauty often teased at school for being a Philippino, though of course she wasn't. There's a photo I have of Auntie C when she was about sixteen on the back of her brothers motorcycle and she was gorgeous, but a lot darker, I used to tease her about how she'd faded over the years.
Yes there were stories and blame and anger and silence. Black sheep like I said, so we did sort of fit together. Hasn't seen the elder since and only a brief get together with the younger a few years back during the short failed marriage. Estranged from her children and basically her brothers and sisters and exes too. Pride and stubbornness and keeping secrets, generally not talking... Don't ya love families. Nope not a question. Wonder why we fit?
It was a funny sort of relationship, friends and family and supporters and jousters all rolled into a not so simple mixture, but it worked. Mostly we loved each other in that gentle easy you be you and I'll be me way. We worked and chatted and kept up as we moved and became each others support network. She was as I said a tough old thing and never looked her age, pretty much Aussie but never quite completely. She'd get asked all the time... 'where are you from...' Manly or Ryde or Blacktown she'd say, with mostly humour but just a pinch of annoyance way in the background.
And there we were a few years back, she was suddenly alone in a large house and I had to move...again. So.... simple and yet it never is, is it? Mostly it was fine and we were good together. Then again, we had to move, stressful? Oh yeah, but we did it, this time with my two puppies are her two kitties. Hah, they got on, even if the puppies did like to chase and the kitties never quite saw the humour of it. Watching the four of them eat side bay side after sniffing each others food was fun in a bemusing sort of way.
Still, there we were. Another house and okay but she seemed to be getting tired, not dramatic, but there. Maybe she felt worse than she let on, I don't know. Quite possible though, she was like that. I think I'd have picked it up, we'd gotten pretty good at reading each other. A year and at the end she knew, we had to move, somewhere smaller, more manageable. So we did, reasonably straight forward as moving house goes, it's never simple and I was really sick of it, so was she. A tough choice, the kitties had been adopted out, space and..well not a simple decision, but we both agreed. At least they still had a good situation, the puppies would not have fared as well.
So a new place, clean and simple, comfortable close to everything and yet tainted. There in the background the knowledge that she at least would not move again. And it began, that slow slide from active to barely being able to walk up the street. Trips for radiotherapy, stints in hospital, a slow and gradual slip from who she had been.
She stayed at home as long as possible and I helped as much as I could while still going to work a few hours a day. District nurses and home visits from the GP kept her comfortable and ...well, happy? Can't really say that, but she was there and the puppies were with her and me and you make do don't you. Simple things.
But finally, she was no longer able to stay at home, needed more care than I could give or the visiting nurses provide, and so....
A hospice, not too far away fortunately. They were mostly good, caring and thoughtful, but I will admit at times as I dealt with the 'system' both there and previously at home, there was the odd moment where I would like to take a word bubble of bureaucrateese and shove it where the sun don't shine. But I am quite sure that dealing with such a thing as palliative care cannot always be easy, from any side.
I'd visit every day, sometimes with a puppy in tow and she was usually grateful and not too demanding. There were also occasions where I could cheerfully strangle her and likewise I'm sure, frustrations and inadequacies bumping into hard nosed reality.
In her own way she fought and challenged and wrestled with fears and pains which will make anyone a little narky at times. The trouble is of course that no one else can truly understand exactly what another is going through. They can approximate it, within their own experience and empathise up to a point but it will always be unique and personal.
I watched her go from that fit active lady that could run rings around people half her age to a thin and frail old woman and that was not easy for either of us. Then out of the blue one of the pups died, the big bumbly beautiful boy had a massive stroke and died in my arms on the lounge room floor. Horrible and made worse in that looking back I missed a few symptoms, misunderstood... would it have made a difference? I don't know, the vet later said probably not and I don't think he was just being kind. Sigh I debated the next day whether to tell her, checked how she was and sat and chatted for a while.
She seemed okay so I did and she was shocked but fine. It took a couple of days to register properly, I know and she felt it then, perhaps equated it to herself I really don't know. Mostly lucid she did have times where she jumbled memories from years ago with the past day. Not always easy to piece together and impossible for someone that did not know her well. Upsetting but.. not so much, it's all relative. Mostly we joked about it.
She was aware and with it right to the end and if she perhaps tried to hide her fears and pain from me to a degree she was not always successful. I told her a year ago she would see her next birthday and she did, just. I wonder if that was a target to aim for and for my benefit more than hers? Whatever the case she did, plus a month, and then gave up as it got too much.
That last Wednesday afternoon she was pretty much out of it but still knew who I was and in the midst of general bits and pieces of conversation asked me to write a letter for her to 'thank all the girls' for helping look after her. I know she meant all the staff and consultants that made her last month or two easier than it might have been. I did, though I didn't mention names because I was damn sure I'd forget some.
But I knew then... she knew, she was done. She could fight no more and at a suggestion I went outside and there were a few tears, as there are now as I write this. I went outside and sat with the puppy and came in and out a few times, but she was in and out of sleep, or dreams or something and after a while I went home. Several hours later, at two forty five the next morning I got the phone call.
So now, in my own long winded and somewhat inept way I am writing something sort of as she might have wished and based on that original letter. It's worded a little differently than she would, but she would expect that. Would she expect this exactly? No probably not, but she'd understand it.
Thank you to all that give the care and friendly attention, that show to all that come through that despite money problems and bureaucracy and human inadequacy it can still work on that basic level.
Sure there might be 'moments' but aren't there always? I know she greatly appreciated all that was done to help her and to a lesser extent me. Yep, even there, right at the end she was trying to organise things. Three months later I know she did all she could to make it easy. There's fights and drama and petty officialdom, but I can look at it all now it's mostly sorted and I can't help but smile.
An end? Yes perhaps, might depend what you believe. One way or another she's still around.
Thanks for reading.
Kristina
The rain pelted down seemingly heavy enough to bruise but that was probably a misconception. Surprise that she could imagine a four syllable word, let alone make sense of it brushed across her mind. How the hell could she think like that and not know who or where or what… what the hell was happening?
She stumbled again and flipped the straps of her... slingbacks, that's what they were... huh... off and continued on down the road constantly brushing her sodden hair out her of her eyes and mouth. Laboured breathing and various pains and aches slowed her.
A reflection stopped her cold as she passed a shopfront window and the man… she knew him she was sure... but... his eyes bugged out and fear showed plainly and he seemed to want to scream and yet there was no sound beyond the wind and hammering rain.
Spinning she looked in a wide circle and back, but nothing, well... no one. There were a few parked cars and lights in Unit blocks on the other side of the road. But, there was no one and certainly not some near naked man with terrified eyes. Shuddering she continued on, limping suddenly at the pains and sting of grit and god knows what as her bare feet were assaulted.
But she couldn't stop. Where was she going anyway and what... why was she carrying a stumpy little revolver and was it still hot even dripping wet? Where was she? Oh yeah… Old South Head Rd and there was the pathway. The path and down a bit was The Gap. The famous? Was famous right? Seemed wrong maybe... what was it, yeah infamous that's better, infamous suicide spot. Those wonderful sandstone cliffs with the little fence easy to climb and the hundred foot or so drop to rocks or the ocean if the tide was up. A good place to throw a gun. Who's gun and why was she carrying it? Had she shot someone?
A shiver ran through her and her brief silk slip dress swished as it glued itself to her and shifted and slid as she moved. She blew rain drops off her lips and shook her head adding to the spray which was lost in the steady pelting downpour.
Stumbled onto the path, baked clay, though a sort of murky muddy creek at the moment and she fell as a hidden rut almost twisted her ankle and a shot of pain brought a memory.
A man... that same man. Did she know him? She must if she was in that room, apparently right next to him but off line of the mirror he looked into. The shock and sudden reflex duck as a glass shattered on the wall just above his left shoulder. Turning both in fear and anger to see an elegant women in a light twin set, her face distorted with rage and hurt.
"You bastard. You miserable fucking bastard! You lied to me. I trusted you… took you at your word that you wouldn't. And what do I find when I get home? This.. You... You, prick! Well that's it, no more. You and me... We are done. Done!" The woman wailed and tears were flowing and she stormed out of the room, slumped a little and slammed the door closed behind her.
She spun about there in the rain and yet seeing that room and he was gone and she groaned aloud. Did you groan if the wind and rain drowned it and no one heard? Where did he go and what was going on? Who's house was this... um, that? Who was he and who was the woman? His wife? Was this a ménage a whosis? Had she been the bit on the side? God why couldn't she put anything together and why did her stomach hurt so bad?
She remembered yelling, a fight, the woman, wife? Throwing things and screeching as the man blubbered and mumbled semi coherently and she apparently just watched. She made no sound and was ignored by the other two. They stormed through the house and the wife pushed and threw vases and stands, a decanter shattered on the stairs. He alternately cried and blubbered and roared defiance and clenched his fists in impotent rage. Backed the wife to the bedroom door as it seemed he might hit her. She cowered momentarily and he backed down as she twisted the knob and almost fell backward tripping on the Persian rug within. Glorious rich colour rendered almost black and white by the mood of all.
His face twisted and tears fell as he stood over the wife as she lay on the floor looking up with an expression of almost insolent contempt. He wrenched at his clothing, tearing and ripping and tugging until he was practically naked and then began to tear up the room. The wife suddenly lurched upright and spat on the floor sneering at his silk boxer shorts and mocking mismatched styles, as he ignoring her proceeded to pull books from shelves and rip clothes from walk in robes.
Reaching the phone the wife dialled a short number spoke rapidly and held it out so whoever could hear his yells and cries and the banging as he slammed and swore. Smirking and with a triumphant look the wife threw the phone, hitting him on the shoulder. He bellowed, lunged forward to her and with a backhand knocked the wife backwards across the room. He let out an almost painful cry as he reached and seemed to regret and then he turned and ransacked a shelf lifting up a small box.
She swapped the gun from hand to hand and slowly clenched her right fist and felt some pain and noted the cut knuckles. No blood as the rain washed everything, just a couple of puffy ridged knuckles and stiffness.
The man stood there staring into the small box oblivious of the wife's muttered curses. Silence then as the stubby pistol was lifted out and held aloft. A hint of fear in the wife's eyes as he stood still and indifferent to his surroundings.
She saw all this and felt the rain and her feet hurt and her hand was sore and her stomach… her stomach ached and burned and was cold at the same time. Who were these people and why did they not acknowledge her at all? She stood there seeing everything and it was as though to them she did not exist.
Blue and red flashing lights blinked through the bushes from the road and she heard voices and torches flashed. Terror stabbed through her system and she ran and slid and almost fell. Pushed on and did slip to one knee, felt the skin tear and a vague pink swirl as she crawled to her feet and with a cry as of a small animal in pain stumbled on toward the cliffs. She had to throw the gun out to sea so they could not find it. But why? What had happened?
He laughed, a loud and off key laugh that made her shiver and his wife cower in fear the rage forgotten as she trembled.
She stood watching as the wife wrapped herself in a self hug and followed him with her eyes as he paced and muttered.
The boom of the shot was horribly loud and her ears hurt as the flash in the semi dark room made her blink. The smell was like some hint of damnation, did fire and brimstone smell like that? The wife jumped and squeaked in terror as the mirror on the wall shattered. He glared at the wife and the smile if you could call it that reminded her of Jack in that hotel caretaker thing. The phrase, 'honey I'm home ' rattled in her mind and she imagined thunder and lightning but there was just rain. Cold and heavy and wet and she ached all over.
With a shudder she ran on half slipping and sliding along the path almost falling several times. The torches were getting closer and she knew she didn't want them to catch her. She had to get rid of the gun. But she couldn't think why, could not connect this now cold piece of steel with the flash and boom and tinkle of broken glass. Except she saw….
He turned, his face twisted and she wanted to cry out to plead but she didn't. The wife cowered back and away and held her hand out and gestured to push him back though he was well beyond arms reach away. He raised and squeezed and a vase exploded and again into the light fitting as he laughed a manic laugh, gleeful of the destruction and strode across the room oblivious of the shards of glass stabbing his bare feet.
She winced as he left bloody footprints but still said nothing.
Then he stood face to face with his wife and mocked her narrow minded intolerance. He pressed the gun against her belly and laughed as she went white and seemed to shrink.
"Boom" he barked into the wifes face and laughed again a wild and ragged laugh as she jumped and began to cry as the fear loosed her bladder.
She cried out in sympathy though it was a silent cry and neither of them so much as blinked. Both too busy looking at the small puddle that formed on the glorious rug at the wife's feet, their expressions greatly different. His, a glowering triumphant glare and the wife with a downtrodden humiliated tear bleary stare.
She watched as silently they stared and glared at each other, neither moving nor blinking. Time had no meaning and she was powerless to intervene or even speak out. She just watched and that puzzled her as much as anything else.
A sudden wrench as she slid one foot wide and pulled a muscle near her hip with a cry like a small child being slapped.
Everything hurt, her feet ached, her hand that gripped the gun was stiff and she knew it was there but could no longer feel it. Her stomach felt hot and cold and empty at the same time and her lungs burned as she stumbled and moaned her way to the small wire fence that marked the edge of the lookout. The jump point for many a desperate soul. What drove them here she wondered. What pain or fear or loss caused the blackness to be seem warm in comparison?
She stood barely aware of the surroundings even the rain still pouring down did not intrude on her thoughts.
She blinked as he threw his head back and roared with laughter and waived the gun in the wife's face. Almost in reflex the wife slapped his arm and threw herself at him pinning the gun between them as a dull boom and a grunt and then all was still.
She watched her heart in her mouth, her face almost touching theirs she was so close and had to be kneeling on the floor yet she did not recall doing so.
Then a pounding at the door downstairs and… she screamed and pushed and groaned. He must have rolled to the side as her frantic glance missed him. She leapt to her feet and was aware of the wife staring soundlessly after her as she fled the room and down the stairs to the side door. Terror led her but just why she was so afraid she could not say.
She flung it open with a grunt of pain and became aware of the storm and the rain as it struck her face startling her momentarily. A cry like a gull diving to the surf burst from her throat as she ran, down the few steps and the driveway. Aware of shouts and the pulsing blue and red lights on the odd bulbous shaped van as the two blue and black figures yelled and pointed, one pushing the door and disappearing inside the other following her, one hand clutched to its face. Running after her though they, it, was metres behind.
She cut through the garden and across the lawn down a stepped landing and out a small wrought iron gate that led to the street. How did she know the way? The figure was nowhere to be seen and she gulped a breath as fear lifted a fraction. Another stab as adrenaline struck full force as a car pulled up and two more blue and black figures emerged the pulsing lights on the roof turning a surreal scene even more so. These two moved slowly and stiffly hands clutched together at arms length in front of their hips as they stalked... yes, stalked she thought... they're hunting.. they're hunting me, but why?
She ran.
She no longer felt the wire of the fence as it bit into her back and she looked into her lap as a hand reached down and slid the pistol from her grip. She heard, distantly though he had to be right on top of her so that made no sense, the radio crackle as he, this blue and black man spoke.
"Yep got him, Gap lookout gunshot wound to the abdomen, Pulse thready. He needs help soon as. ... Right, quick as ya can eh."
She heard it and what was said made no sense and she blinked as he pressed something against her stomach and another draped a fluro yellow green jacket across her shoulders.
Another voice, a woman this time.
"This him? The domestic up the hill in Vaucluse?"
"Yeah, seems there was a fight and he got gut shot, exactly how we’ll have to figure out."
What? Who got gut shot... I'm so tired...
The woman spoke again.
"Cute boxers, almost bought Jake a pair for his birthday, but thought the dick might get the wrong idea. I could just here him offering to let me rub Homers belly and see what happens."
"Yeah, and what would you say? Doh?"
"Nah something a bit cruder than that. This guy gonna make it?"
"Maybe, it'll be close."
This guy? What? They think... but that makes no sense... Oh...god, I.... The tears squeezed from under her lids and they did not stop though were barely noticeable in the rain and she sobbed quietly as another two fluro yellow people touched and lifted and strapped her to a rolling trolley thing and she stared into the sky and heard the piercing cry of a lonely gull from the dark. She slid into the back of a white truck and the doors banged cutting off the rain and the sound and the flashing lights were back and a raucous wavering yo yo sound in her ears.
Her eyes were clenched tight as she tried to blot out the sounds and light. All she could see was the face of the man, his terrified eyes reflected in the shop window. Pain and sadness as she cried and wondered... why.
~ Not really an end ~
I'm curious how many need to read this more than once. Confusion is a fluid POV, but then perhaps that's the point sometimes.
This is a follow on to Luciana. It would help if you've read that.
Can someone who is not who they were be trusted? Will retracing your steps solve anything, when nothing is the same... and should you try? It is not always possible to walk away even if you want to. The past is always there.
There is some darkness, violence and general nastiness... so as before, be forewarned.
Apologies if the Italian phrases are not exactly correct. Blame Google.
This is a work of adult fiction.
No resemblance to reality should be inferred or expected.
Copyright KLS 2007.
Joanna
By Kristina.L.S.
Prologue
... Closure A simple word, but pathetically inadequate when placed against the pain and suffering it was meant to assuage. Did it mean anything when measured against individual suffering? Almost certainly not. It was a word that was tossed about by those that had no empathy, or even remote understanding of what it was supposed to represent. A pithy and useless expression of the generally accepted, '...well that's finished, so get on with it'. Utterly useless and insensitive. But it fitted with a 90 second grab on the evening news.
Pain as Jo knew very well had few limits. Time might soften the effect, but it did not end it. Only death could do that. The ultimate defeat. No one escaped. It was only a question of when you surrendered or were defeated. But then there was the possibility that that very surrender could be welcomed with open arms as the alternative became impossible. To live, a generally accepted imperative, excepting religious zealots. The fact that almost all religions decried suicide or martyrdom as non-doctrine was irrelevant. If you chose to believe... it was true. The problem was Jo no longer knew whether what she believed was what 'she' believed.
And so she sat on the large flat rock 30 metres from her own back door and looked at the relatively simple mechanical device that could expel a steel projectile at more than 700m per second into her brain and thus STOP... everything.
A simple squeeze to the point that a given pressure was established and the mechanism released, driving a metal point against the centre point of a metal cartridge igniting the contained mixture of powdered chemicals.
And so... perhaps not quicker than thought... but quick enough... perhaps...
The silky black head that insinuated it's way under her right armpit, closely followed by the soft warm tongue licking her cheek pulled her thoughts back to something resembling sanity. She sucked in breath with a choked off sob mingled amidst the inhale. Her eyes lifted to the sky across the shadowy treetops and she guessed it was around 4.30. There was just the faintest tinge of light to indicate dawn was approaching. She hefted the Sig and weighed it in her hand, sighed again and headed into the house. She emerged a few moments later wearing a crop top, old track pants and seemingly older runners.
As the just visible dog danced and spun in anticipation she stretched for a few minutes and then with a soft, "Come on Sab, let's see if a run will chase away the ghosts", headed slowly at first down the path and picking up speed began a familiar circuit.
1.
It was a cool spring evening and her clothes were not particularly conducive to keeping warm. They had one purpose, to attract potential punters. The 3inch heels, short flirty skirt and tight lycra top were for the viewers benefit, not the wearers. Joanna paced the small stretch of 'the wall' that she had been allotted and swore under her breath. This was not what she had expected when Justin had convinced her to rejoin the team. This was not what she did. A lowly street hooker con game. Shit, this was rookie stuff. Some raw kid straight from the academy wanting to get a foot in the undercover door, that's who should be standing here. Not her. What galled even more was the assumption by 'the powers that be' that 'she' was perfectly suited for this case.
Jo snorted quietly as she remembered Justin's face as he laid out the sting. As he became more flustered and embarrassed as she became more angry and embarrassed. As he, almost, apologised for putting her in this situation.
Shrugged, he had no choice. Nor did she if she wanted back in. Implicit was the higher ups distrust of 'her'. It was plain without being said that 'the powers that be' were not sure she could be trusted, at all. She was not who she was. She had been under 'outside control' for nearly a year. She, was, not, who, she, was. Who knew what she would do in a given situation. She had to prove herself.
And that was where her anger dissipated. If the truth be known she was not all that sure either. It had been 6 months since she had been 'repatriated' and the whole surrealistic situation would have had her scoffing... had she not lived it. The nights were the worst. Bec had been, understanding... at first. It was not as if she had not tried to adjust to Joanna. She had done everything anyone could expect and then some, but...
Her mind drifted to a night a few weeks ago. The wee small hours when demons walked and those without hope gave up... as always the realisation of another in the bed...Pete smiled to himself and stretched as the ultimate spontaneous expression of male lust and given the 'other presence' love, intermingled with desire so that one was indistinguishable from the other. As he revelled in the rampant expression of that desire, felt the tension of his thrusting member almost demanding accommodation; he began to reach to gently rouse...
...and that was when reality intruded and 'she' stumbled from bed, shaking and drenched in fear. Sobbing with loss and an inexpressible anguish at what would never be again. Memory as painful as a hot iron pressed to tender flesh. How did you fight your own mind? Did 'she' even own her own thoughts anymore? It might seem a ridiculous question, but in her case, perhaps not. Bec had done all any one person could do. She had comforted and held tight as sobs wracked the tall muscular woman... but after a dozen, twenty, fifty such nights she had crept to another room and tried to sleep. And though that had hurt more than any dream or remembered pain, could anyone blame her. Jo most certainly could not.
During the day though things were different it was not that big a thing. Minor differences in clothing; underwear that no one would see. Make up; a pain, but accepted as necessary for 'appearance' sake almost despite the subconscious urge to be... perfect. Subtle changes in others perceptions and expectations. Feelings, modes of expression. Different, but not that far from what had been.
But at night, when she slept, battle would commence.
In truth she no longer knew what was her and what had been imposed. Even looking back at what had gone before, decisions and unquestioned choices now were filtered through a; is this really me or..., type process. And as she had been told by Dr Franklin, that way lay madness and destruction. But even he had admitted to not fully knowing, let alone understanding what 'Pete' had gone through. Talked about post-traumatic stress and pondered various medications, something Jo railed against. But facts had to be faced. Pete no longer existed. Either Joanna acknowledged a different reality or succumbed to a self-imposed purgatory and that lead to madness or self destruction. Should that occur... 'they'... 'SHE', would have won. No second prize she sniffed unconsciously, with a self-mocking sneer.
Her thoughts were dragged back to the present as the 'girl' she suspected was behind the robbery set ups lead a slightly nervous business type into the small Private Hotel that 'provided' the facilities, namely a bed and a bathroom. There were several 'suites' that the girls used. Jo shadowed and as soon as she was sure which room they were headed for made the signal to the two back ups in the car down the block and followed up. If this followed the MO they had figured out through interviews with 'victims' there would be a few minutes discussion to work out the details of what and how much, after the initial contact outside.
Occasionally at this point the punter got cold feet or was too cheap and it ended there. It was as she hung his jacket in the walk in robe that she would lift his wallet and scan any ID, cards and licence and as he poured a drink or got comfortable on the bed she would also make impressions of any keys she found while theoretically touching up the lippy. This was not essential, but it did help confuse the issue if there was no 'break in'. Just a robbery or maybe an insurance scam? Cops being suspicious types liked simple greed as a motive. Whether a thief or the supposed victim was often the first question they asked themselves.
The team had already done their work and every move in that room was covered by 6 separate cameras simultaneously recorded on a split screen with each able to be pulled up and viewed as desired. This time they were ahead of the game and once they had the 'film' evidence they could appraise the punter and gently coerce him into cooperating with them setting up the same surveillance in his home. Then... seldom more than a few days later this could be wrapped up. All bar the legal crap of lawyers and trials anyway. Dot the I 's and triple cross your T's and hope nobody farted at the wrong moment and gave some slimy creep a chance to say... 'see, it was all a set up'. But that wasn't her job. It was end-phase for her involvement. Three weeks of strutting around and picking up other cops, who usually didn't manage to hide the smirk, to keep her cover as she studied the layout and narrowed the field to this point, sting time. After tonight... once more. To make an arrest. A small dot on the urban landscape, a point of difference that might make it worthwhile. Assuming everything else went as it should.
Regardless of her thoughts on the why's of what she was doing in this instance, there was still that buzz of entering enemy territory unseen and unknown. Blending and observing, making it possible for the rest of the team to do their thing and ultimately catch the bad guys. Small time in this case, but still worthwhile. She snorted again, ' ...sure just tell yourself that you make a difference. Soon you'll be back at the top', as she made sure that everything went to plan. Everyone was where they should be. She made her way out, brushing past a would-be suitor with a leery, "...sorry lover I've got an appointment". She signalled that all was a go and headed away to the rendezvous, a small café two blocks away.
She sat and sipped a cappuccino and ignored the contemptuous looks of the conservative matrons at a nearby table. It was almost an hour later as she sat daydreaming that Justin sat opposite and smilingly nodded and confirmed that all was well. With a sigh she nodded back and they headed out. She grabbed his elbow as he turned to respond to a rather cutting remark from one of the 'ladies' regarding sluts and their conquests. They drove back to 'the office' in near silence and then with minimal conversation and a short dictated de-brief she changed clothes and headed home. Once again she over-road the desire to stop and get a bottle to anaesthetise the night.
Bec was not home when she got there and she was angry at herself for the slight relief that knowledge gave. Another wave of self induced contempt washed her as she shut off and flicked the stand on the old Honda 500. 'Self pitying cow, get it together or you'll lose the best... maybe only chance at being happy...'. As she pulled off the helmet Sabina surged into view and danced in circles until she knelt and received the obligatory licking and led the way inside. It was little after 8 and the last of the suns rays were hanging in the air as she set about prepping a light meal for the 3 of them. It would be another hour before Bec got home. Salad and Tuna for her and Bec and a rice, Science Diet, trim off cut mix for Sab. Then breaking all the 'head of the pack rules' fed Sab hers and sat and half watched half daydreamed as she ate.
2.
The half formed desire, need, to return to work had caused more than a bit of friction. Bec was terrified of losing Jo to that amorphous entity she had worked for. A shadowy offshoot of the Federal police that demanded complete obedience and loyalty to any that chose to serve. Strange hours and often extended 'tours', that wrought havoc with any home life that might exist. That alone was enough for Bec to fear. But the burden of knowing what had come because of that devotion, impacting Bec and 'Pete' to twist and abuse their lives without a backward look and then show suspicion... almost contempt at 'her' desire to continue with what she knew. What she knew she was very good at. That lack of trust burned and yet...
There had been no overt displays of anger or threats of departure. At first Bec had been supportive, even happy. This after all was what Pete had done for years before they had met. So despite some trepidation caused by 'history' she was happy when Jo had finally said yes to Justin and gone through the various tests and evaluations to rejoin that small group that had been her life for many years. But the incremental feeling of isolation and mistrust, fear even of what had befallen a comrade, had slowly eroded Jo's joy at being accepted back. Slowly Bec had almost against her will come to detest that which had in the past sustained Jo. And for Jo the gradual slide into a meek acceptance of a 'lesser' role grated and against her will Bec had borne the brunt of it. Discrimination, glass ceilings, subtle condescension had all been hypothetical theories... until suddenly you found yourself on the wrong side of the fence and had to live it.
Even Justin, her closest friend within the agency and the person largely responsible for her being back had shown a propensity to see 'woman' rather than 'agent'. Certainly not one that he had known and trusted, more than once, with his life. When Jo had called him on it he had at first denied... and then slumping slightly in his chair conceded it was probably true. She was not Pete. Whether she was good, or not... she was a woman and therefore needed more... help, looking out for, caution in speech and action. It wasn't quite them and us... but that was part of it. A macho bastion that did not know what to do with an interloper, especially one like her. Even knowing, acknowledging it, did not change anything. She was not Pete. Pete was one of the guys. Now Jo was one of a very few front line women in the field and the geological shift was a long way off.
Her thoughts wandered... at the first tentative steps of rejoining they had both been nervous. But both, for probably different reasons wanted to see Jo back, living and 'participating' as part of the society that both gave and sheltered and rejected and hurt. Once the decision had been made to dip a toe in the water the first problem struck. Home was not convenient to 'the office' and Bec used the car most days to get to and from the school. A casual stroll through town one afternoon had shown an old bike in the corner of the workshop where everyone got fuelled or repaired. A 70's vintage Honda needing work and registration. The idea of solo travelling appealed, not to mention the price... which was only $800.
After a bit of haggling it was loaded onto a trailer and deposited under a temporary tarp strung from the corner of the house. A manual, some hired tools, lots of phone calls to sympathetic 'bike nuts', assorted skinned knuckles and copious swearing and finally, it was ready. In the meantime she had passed the tests and had a provisional license. A once over with a few adjustments from a good mechanic and she was on the road, 'born to be wild... shit, what a crock'.
Peace. That was what it meant. Especially late at night. The almost fluid roll and sway as the bike effortlessly cruised the roads from city to home. Relative quiet. No music or distractions from others. Once the mechanics of riding were somewhat ingrained and her natural observational skills kept her out of any likely trouble from other road users it was almost like meditating. Similar to flying she thought... and in no way comparable to riding in a car. At least part of the title of 'that' book made sense even if the rest was a mess.
Her mind roamed for another half hour until the noise of a car pulling up out front drew her back from wherever she'd been. It was another few minutes before Bec appeared in the room, tired but as always energised by the interplay with the 'kids' she taught. This was one of the regular drama nights. Outside the curriculum but part of the program to develop young minds and bring about thoughtful, intelligent and hopefully educated young adults. The mostly 14, 15 and 16 year olds doted on their teacher and friend. There were a few that drew back or requested another... particularly after the relationship with Bec and Jo had become known. She had done everything she could to keep Jo from knowing of the occasional 'attack' she had endured. She had not completely succeeded but had expected that. She was able to downplay the few incidents that had caused some hurt... she was far more concerned with Jo's state of mind. A few mindless idiots attacking her character was nothing. Most were either accepting or indifferent, which amounted to the same thing... no problem. The few... well...
Jo became aware of a figure standing and looking at her.
"Hey hon. How was the Shakespeare?"
There was no immediate answer and she raised her eyes to look more closely at Bec's face. The obvious pleasure of her night was muted with worry that etched small lines around those soft blue eyes. The tension and guilt Jo felt was wiped by a sudden sadness that she could inflict this on the one person she loved beyond all others. 'You self centred bitch!'
The words flashed through her mind as she rose and hugged the smaller woman in an attempt to reassure and connect. Somewhere in the back of her head was a stray thought that despite everything she actually thought and referred to herself as female. Which was sort of strange considering. It was and was not... true.
Bec hugged Jo tight for a moment and then pushed her back to arms length and searched her face for a sign of... what? Peace, acceptance? The worry and fear she tried to hide was not hidden at all and Jo felt a wave of revulsion that she was the cause. Bec deserved better than this sham of a relationship. Despite the protestations Jo could not believe that this... what, 'lesbian' pairing was what Bec wanted and likely needed. She wanted children... and that was no longer possible, at least with Jo. Adoption was not even considered. Neither wanted a child that had no connection to them beyond a vague desire to feel wanted, perhaps needed by someone, something that had to go both ways.
Besides... what agency would even consider them with such an 'odd' relationship. After all, successful, heterosexual, carefully vetted couples had enough trouble. Let alone a strange 'gay' pairing that had other problems.
Bec was the first to break the tense silence.
"So... how did it go today? Catch the bad guys in the act? Make the city safe for us law-abiding citizens? " With a shake of her head she pulled back.
"Sorry. That sounded really bitchy. I know you need to do this and it is worth doing. I just have a little trouble believing the people that demand so much of you and give so little are worth it. And I'm not so sure that the vast majority of those same law-abiding citizens would not agree with the suspicions of your so-called superiors if they were asked. My faith in the general goodness of human nature has been just slightly shaken in recent months." She sighed and took a deep breath as Jo gazed at her face with a mix of pain and sorrow taking turns at washing her features. Bec swore under her breath realising a touch of hysteria was creeping into her voice.
"Live and let live, what crap. The vast majority neither know nor care what you might have done or suffered on their behalf. They just see one of 'those', a weirdo that thinks he's a woman. Utter rubbish of course. I mean what sane man could even think such a thing let alone believe it. And a woman thinking she's a man... utterly preposterous. Genetics and nature don't lie, not to mention God. Delusional psychos the lot of you. Grow up Joanna... be a man. That's what you are after all."
The tears were running down Bec's face as she tried to stop herself. But the pain and fear... and oh yes... anger, was too much. Jo gathered her in a hug and tried to touch her with thought as well as physical presence. Bec squeezed her lover tight as her emotions ran rampant.
"Those sanctimonious bastards. They use you and almost get you killed. They blithely sit back and say your loyalty is now questionable. Never mind that you were brainwashed and almost killed not to mention physically abused beyond what most could survive. You are damaged goods because their intelligence system failed. They dropped the ball and it almost killed you. But of course it's your fault. How dare you let yourself be taken. I mean aren't you trained to avoid that. So they're obviously right... you are no longer up to it. You useless bitch... sorry bastard. Sir not ma'am despite appearances and general physical reality."
Bec pulled away and tried to still her thoughts as she wiped her nose on her sleeve. She paced back and forth as Jo watched sadly. She knew it hurt, Jo's expression told her that very eloquently, but she was powerless to stop now the dam had been breached. And a small part of her wanted to hurt Jo... because some tiny part of Bec and maybe whatever was left of Pete was agreeing with the twisted logic of it all.
"They use you, demean you, relegate you to beginner status and waste all your skill and knowledge because they fear you. I mean if you can be twisted and broken down to a 'lowly female' what chance those pathetic desk jockeys should anyone ever question their masculinity, let alone.... And now they want me to resign because I'm a bad influence on the minds of growing children. Living in a gay relationship with a deviant who isn't even a real woman, which somehow makes it worse. God damn them all to hell!!"
The anger dissipated like fog and she slumped sobbing against Jo who had taken two paces and wrapped her in a hug, shushing softly as tears ran down her own face.
'So', thought Jo as she tried to ease Bec just by holding her. 'Someone has decided the best and one of the most popular teachers they've had in years was now suddenly a bad influence on impressionable minds. All because of her. All the rest was there in the background but now the whispering cowards that pretended moral superiority had attacked the core of Becs being. She was a teacher. It was part of her and had been since childhood. And they sought to take that because they found her morally questionable.' What they thought of Jo was probably not repeatable.
"Come on hon. We'll work it out. You can beat them just by being who you are. There will be some who can't or won't see anything outside a narrow view of what is or is not 'acceptable behaviour'. But most know better or at least will not just react blindly. You are one of the best in that place as most acknowledge. As long as I stay in the background it should be fine..."
" Yes! That's just the damn point isn't it. You... we, have to pretend and play the game just to placate some... ideal. A false reality to reinforce an imaginary comfort zone. I just..."
"Come on Bec let's have dinner it's all ready. We don't have to fight them all at once. Nor do we hide. Just go gently and try not to rub anyone's face in it. I guess we come under the 'Gay couple' banner. So public accommodations have to be made unless you want to spend your life fighting prejudicial battles. Those that might have accepted would likely go to the other side if things become uncomfortable. When you're outnumbered thousands to one, direct confrontation is usually not a good idea. We just have to accept certain limitations on public affection or ultimately, they will win."
"Yes. I know you're right, but... It's just not right or fair, or..." Her voice trailed off as she took a breath and nodding, half smiled, although it had a tinge of bitterness to it.
"Oh Jo, I know you're right... and usually I can roll with it. Just when I saw my whole career being threatened because of something you or I did not want and could not control... well. It just tore me up. I tried to hide it from you, but... I know you have it harder than me in most respects. Those dreams tell me that if nothing else. It seemed we were going to be Ok... and then the last few months it's begun to fall apart. I, ah, actually started to think we might not make it and that lunatic bitch would win after all. I love you, but... sometimes I wonder if that will be enough. It's just so hard."
Her eyes locked onto Jo's and silently begged for the strength she knew was in that body. The blend of athleticism and mental discipline that had allowed Pete to survive at all. She saw the battles Jo went through with memory and what would normally be mundane trivia that an average girl would just shrug at. But of course this situation was not 'average' in any sense. Jo was largely together and sane, which was in itself a miracle, but... Her eyes begged Jo to hold it together and become who she now was, wholly and without reservation. Dr Franklin had talked to her at length that that was the key to Jo becoming whole and free of the horror. She whispered and Jo only just heard..." please Jo accept who you are now. Be free of it and love me."
She whispered back as she gently pulled Becs head to her chest, "I will Bec I will. Somehow we will be Ok. Come on..." she softly kissed the tears from Becs eyes, lifted her gently and carried her through to the bedroom. Dinner would keep.
3.
Jo awoke as the first hint of light drifted through the window, almost 5am. She stretched gently so as not to disturb Bec and gave a quick peck on the cheek which raised a soft mumble and slight reposition in her sleep. Jo slipped out to find Sabina waiting and ready to run. Donning her gear she mused on the previous night... They had made love... slowly, languorously and she had made sure Bec had felt everything she could make her feel. Her own experience was... less, but still enjoyable. If she could truly let it all go just maybe this could work. At least there had been no dreams to destroy the nights mood.
She ran through a slow kata to get the blood flowing as Sabina sniffed her way around the yard impatiently. After about 20 minutes she began the familiar circuit down along the dirt road and into the bush tracks that surrounded the property with Sabina bounding along joyfully.
He lowered the rifle and placed it in the shaped foam bed of the guitar gig bag as the tall one disappeared into the trees. Sniffed the air and mentally measured the breeze. Almost dead still. 'As they said goodbye for the day at the car, in approximately 2 hrs,' he decided. Set the buzzer alarm on his watch and settled himself to doze and simply relax. Tense was no good... but this would be all too easy. A simple shot of 250 metres. He once again pondered his brief. Quite specific, if a little unusual, but the money had been paid so... 'his not to wonder why...', he smiled to himself. After just 14 days, which was nothing for this sort of job, he would be done in a few hours. His initial survey had found the lay-up, routes in and out, checked the distance and within days had procured an ex army L1A1 which he stripped and rebuilt with great care. Subsequent test firing had proved that a grouping of 5cm at 300m was attainable and that was quite good enough for this assignment. He settled himself and was in the instant action, semi sleep mode of experienced combat troops in moments.
She paced the clearing in the front of the house as her breathing settled and she stretched gently. Sabina was flopped on the grass with her tongue hanging out and a big grin on her face. "Sab, sometimes I think you find us humans all too amusing. You're probably right. Come on, brekky." They both headed inside and Jo started the makings of an omelette while Sab supervised from the floor in the corner. Bec had been finishing in the shower as they came inside so she would be ready to eat in a few minutes.
It was 10 before Bec came into the kitchen and gave Jo a hug and kiss to the cheek. She looked more closely at the taller woman and smiled, "You seem more at ease this morning than you have been for a while. Now if I can just get you to let go completely in the bedroom it'll wash over into everything else." She grinned as the blush spread up Jo's face. "Hmmm... tonight it's my turn to be in charge missy. I'll have you screaming yet you slut." This time she laughed out loud as the blush on Jo's face deepened.
With a crooked smile Jo put 2 plates of omelette and 2 mugs of coffee on the table as Sabina tucked into the scrapings over a bit of dry food.
"Ooh, boots and a whip huh. Can't quite see it somehow. It was nice last night Bec. It was good to be needed and offer comfort... and I almost felt comfortable loving you like that. I don't really know why I have trouble. I mean it's not as if I haven't had a while to adjust. I suppose it's the hangover of the dreams and we pushed through that fog last night. So... maybe we're closer. Or me anyway. I know you had doubts at first but you seemed more able to get past them."
Bec reached out and gripped Jo's hand.
" Well I loved Pete and you are him even if you look and act a little different. All I had to get past was a slight hang-up of being with another girl. Nobody messed with my mind and body... so I had it a little easier. I did mean it when I asked you to marry me. I'm still a bit upset we can't... but we're committed and we love each other. So... we'll work it out. I just hope this is a breakthrough and we can share a bed again. I've missed the closeness."
They chatted easily over breakfast and kidded each other about bondage fantasies and who got to wear the boots and do the sneering. Both knew that if they ever did explore that at all it would be totally open and sharing and pretty innocent, not some humiliation game. Neither could even begin to understand that side of things nor did they want to.
"Ok hon. I better head in. Got a few things to set up and a quick test to workout. " They cleaned up the dishes and rinsed the cups as Bec grabbed her bag and headed for the door with Jo and Sabina following.
"Are you going in today?"
"Yes, but not till lunchtime. Got to type up the report from yesterday and check up when the final sting is likely to go down. I'll only be there for a few hours so I'll be back before you. I'll do the lamb curry, the meats marinating now."
They stopped beside the car and with a quick hug and a peck to the cheek. Each saying 'love you ... see you later.' As they separated the side window of the car exploded showering them with glass. Sabina flattened herself in terror and Jo reacting on pure instinct, grabbed Bec by both arms and flung her across the bonnet of the car as she screamed in fear and possibly pain at the assault to her body. As she slipped off onto the ground on the far side Jo turned to look in the direction the shot had come from. It was definitely a shot. The crack had registered as she had grabbed Bec. It took a couple of seconds before she zeroed in on the figure standing and looking straight at her through a riflescope. She knew roughly where he was and even if she didn't die in the next few seconds there was no way to get to him quickly. She tensed and wondered would she even feel it. Then to her surprise he shouldered the weapon and gazed at her for a moment before stooping and rising again a few seconds later with some sort of bag slung over his shoulder. Then he turned and without a gesture or acknowledgement of any sort, walked away into the trees.
4.
It had taken 22 minutes for the team to get there. By which time Jo had wiped Becs scrapes and put her right arm in a sling. She suspected the wrenching throw had fractured the collarbone that had been broken the year before. Bec had stopped shivering and Jo had full control of her hands once more as the adrenaline shock wore off. Sabina was pressed against her leg, giving and receiving comfort. Justin had slipped in without a word gun drawn at his side. A quick outline from Jo had sent two team members and a tech to the shooters hide while the Doc checked them both over.
They were both sitting at the kitchen table sipping coffee when Justin walked in a little over an hour later. Bec would go with Doc to get an x-ray while Jo would go into the office. They hugged silently and then Bec followed the Doc out to his car taking Sabina with her. They would stay at a safe house for the next week, until...
Without a word Jo made 2 more cups as Justin sat at the table sitting a shell casing upright in the centre. A few minutes later she sat and they both sipped. Both of them looked at the single brass shell sitting upright between them.
"Well your cars had it. The bullet shattered the console after doing the window. We got it... or what's left. Found the lay up easy enough. He's been there a few days, probably scoped things out a week or so earlier. Definitely a pro. We found that casing sitting upright on a rock, but apart from an indent where he slept, didly. He took everything, even his waste with him. No doubt has military, probably covert training. 762 mill which lends itself to the military theory as well. It looks as though he meant to miss. No way you or Bec would be standing otherwise. Which means..."
"Yeah. Someone wants me to know I'm in their thoughts. Two guesses, mad Italian Doctor or mad Italian Doctor."
"Yeah... So..."
"Yep."
"Me and Ted are in. I'll clear the time, there's nothing we have to be here for. The other guys can wrap up the hooker thing. This needs to end."
"All we need to do is find her."
"She's at the Bolzano house." He shrugged as Jo stared at him. "We've been keeping an eye on her movements since that last encounter. She's been clean as a whistle as far as we know, but... Anyway that's where she was day before yesterday." He got up and rinsed his cup and turned back to Jo.
"I don't suppose you'll let me and Ted go in and take her out. Three days and it would be over without you getting anywhere near her. She may still have some hold on you. Doc Franklin admits he has no idea what she did to your mind, or what might still be sitting there. Just let us do it."
He sighed as Jo shook her head back and forth. He'd known she wouldn't go for it. That she would have to be there. He thought about ordering her to stay and let them do it. But figured she would only go off on her own. If it was Pete sitting there he would not have intruded beyond wishing him luck and maybe offering to help. But Jo was not Pete. She might be as good, maybe more than him, once she was fully together again, women had some skills men did not after all. And Jo was a woman now, no question. He had difficulty at times connecting Pete to Joanna and he had known Pete very well. Joanna was tough to be with sometimes. She carried a haunted air, which was hardly surprising, and the threat of mental collapse or regression had worried him and the Doc despite allowing her back in. They hoped she would be helped in rehabbing herself by being back on the job. They kept her away from some jobs for that reason, but that had seemingly had the opposite effect. And now this. Maybe they could close it out for good and Jo would be back to what she, well Pete, had been. The best.
He sighed again as Jo gazed into space only turning her eyes his way at the slight sound.
"Ok Jo, I figured that's how you'd see it. Ted and I are flying out to Milan tonight. You're booked for 12.15 tomorrow. So, assuming we've called this right Thursday morning we go in and finish this. I hope you're up for it. Are you sure you can face her again?"
"Yes I'll be fine. Whatever she did to me that hold is gone. There are some lingering programs that push me to be the perfect girl, but generally I'm fine. I know exactly when the conditioning kicks in, it's sort of a discomfort compulsion thing that increases until I fix that broken nail or whatever. I can fight it if I need to and I don't believe she has any hidden triggers to turn me into some robot. Once the drugs were out of my system her hold was gone. I am what she made me in some ways, but I am also me, far more than she wanted or intended. I'm pretty sure meeting her will affect me to some extent, but I won't freeze up or drop to my knees in supplication."
"You hope." Justin muttered almost silently. 'Well, we'll see I guess.' He dropped a travel document pouch on the table that Jo opened and skimmed through with a small smile forming as she did.
"Ok then. I have a connection at Beretta for weapons so that's sorted. You'll be in Milan tomorrow evening, check in and then go to that address ask for Jorge. There will be a couple of Cougar 8000 compacts with one waist and one shoulder holster, 3 spare mags for each and suppressors waiting for you. We will already have picked up one of the new Storm carbines and a 92 each, the mags are interchangeable carbine to pistol which is nice, 5 a piece of those, holsters and slings as appropriate, suppressors all round. It's about a 6 hour drive to Bolzano, we'll get kitted out when we arrive and check the intel. Ted will be point and will head straight out, laying up Tuesday night near the house. I'll be your shadow when you arrive. Then we'll see.
Wednesday he and I will compare notes and update one another by phone. When I join him Thursday morning... we take the house and finish Luciana once and for all. We can adjust the timing on the run if needs be, but that's the initial outline. We can't touch her legally so this is it."
Jo nodded as she took a deep breath and let it out slowly. Just the thought of 'her' was putting her on edge. She looked at Justin and he nodded as her eyes showed that same intelligence and purpose that he knew from jobs past. She was not Pete but just maybe this would bring her back to where he had been. He hoped so.
"You know this could finish us. You don't have to, you or Ted. I need to, otherwise I might never be whole again but you guys... You know I can do it. I won't like it, but it's better than living in this purgatory of hers just waiting till she decides to play again. The wills up to date should I fuck up and then it's only me that goes down." She winced slightly at the feeling of discomfort brought on by her use of an expletive, very un-lady like.
"You know the answer before you ask it. You can't do this alone. We are in because we owe you and we want this over, for you and Bec. And because she messed with one of us, Pete was and Joanna is. Then there's the why..."
"Yeah. There is that. If we've called this wrong..."
5.
She booked into the small hotel just outside the city centre, had a quick hot shower to wake and loosen up. It was a nice evening so she chose to stroll the few blocks to the small shop that specialised in the clothing, accoutrements and shotguns for hunters or skeet shooters. Basic weapons for the casual or less well heeled to highly customised special order pieces for the nobility or the simply rich. The bell tinkled as she opened the door to a tall and elegantly dressed man checking the balance of a beautifully engraved and polished over under, he casually undressed her with expressionless eyes. The shorter man in the apron smiled at her and murmured, "Un momento signora", gesturing he would attend to her shortly.
She stood still and quietly returned the customers appraisal. Tall, slim and dangerous she decided. The shotgun was handed back, placed on the counter between them and a brief mumbled conversation was held. He must have felt her gaze as he turned to Jo and smiled a small amused half smile, bowed to her with a flourish and walked out the door, his movements fluid and smooth despite a likely 50 plus years. Jo could not help a small smile of her own, 'Yep dangerous alright, in more ways than one'. She liked Italians but the next guy that pinched her bum was going to get his arm broken.
"Come posso essere di servizio signora?"
"Sto cercando Jorge. Sono Joanna Collins, Justin Williams suggerito io parlo lui."
He smiled and bowed slightly, walked to the door, flicked a closed sign and the lock, beckoning her to follow he headed through the shop and down a flight of stairs.
"Your Italian is quite good but I think English, yes?" He spoke over his shoulder as they descended.
"Yes that might be best." A slight smile crossed her face as she chuckled.
He led the way to a long soundproofed room with a large workbench against the near wall. There were guns of all varieties scattered upon it. He reached for a pair of mid sized automatics that had several magazines and two holsters beside them.
"The Cougar 8000 with custom suppressors. A fine, accurate and compact weapon, perfect for a lady such as yourself." He appraised her clothing, low heeled leather ankle boots tight jeans and a long figure hugging cowl necked sweater a 6cm wide belt at the waist. A wine skin shaped bag hung loosely on her left shoulder from a long strap.
"The hip holster will work, the other you need a jacket for. We will adjust for fit though... please try a few rounds to get the feel. All the magazines have been freshly loaded." He waved at a silhouette at the far end of the room. Perhaps 20 metres.
She went to slip a pair of muffs over her ears as Jorge shook his head and smiled. Shrugging she raised the pistol, judged the balance, shifted her stance and fired. A small cough and a light snick of the slide was the only sound. Any background noise would mask it easily. Her first shot was slightly off, but after a half dozen she was spot on, an under 5 cm grouping.
'Impressive', she thought. 'As nice as the Sigs she was used to and a fraction smaller and lighter. And that suppressor... wow.' She repeated with the second pistol and after 4 rounds nodded, happy. Jorge smiled at her obviously favourable impression. He quickly cleaned and reloaded both weapons as she slipped on and adjusted the shoulder harness. He handed her one of the pistols, which she slid into the holster. When she had it sitting and adjusted just right she slipped it off and handed it to Jorge who placed it and the enclosed pistol into a small leather pouch, the spare mags followed. The other, fully loaded he handed to her in its waist holster. Nodding she took it and after removing her belt clipped it just right of her spine, bunching the sweater a little to hide the slight bulge. Glancing in the mirror on the wall she turned and made sure it was not obvious. Slipped the pouch and belt into her shoulder bag and turned with a smile.
"Does my bum look big in this?" She grinned at Jorge' obvious confusion.
"Thank you Jorge they are perfect, I am extremely grateful. Justin said you were the best. He didn't lie." He beamed at her praise.
"My pleasure entirely Signora. Any friend of Signore Justin... I am surprised we have not met before. He said you were old friends and had worked together for many years."
"Ah, well I work mainly undercover, whereas Justin is more visible. So he has far more direct dealings with other agencies than I do. You have obviously dealt with our lot before... you are affiliated? Sorry, don't answer if that is a problem."
"No. Not at all I have connections with several local and foreign agencies. Indeed your presence here is overseen by the Gruppo." He smiled at her look of incomprehension.
"The Gruppo di Intervento Speciale, a branch of the carabinieri. Something between Swat and Criminal Intelligence. Not dissimilar to your own SAS but with considerably broader local powers." He shrugged, "Your presence is condoned... unofficially. The Doctore has overstepped more than once and has lost her protected status. But of course, I never said that and you were never here. You need not worry about the weapons, they are untraceable, discard freely if needs be. May I offer you an espresso...? I have this delightful blend..." He kissed his pressed together fingertips and flared them wide, gesturing her ahead of him, up the stairs.
They sat in his small office adjoining the showroom and she smiled politely as he flirted almost unconsciously. He was charming and made a fine coffee, if a little strong. He sighed melodramatically as she signalled she must leave, thanked him again as he bowed and theatrically kissed the knuckles of her right hand. She laughed aloud as he smiled widely, showed her to the door and with a flourish closed it behind her. Still smiling she headed up the street, back to the Hotel.
6.
She had gone only a hundred metres, turned the first corner and was instantly aware of 3 figures angling in from different sectors. 'Corsicans... Algerians... Union Corse? In Italy?' She stopped as another larger figure stood centred in the street ahead, a large pistol pointing straight at her. She ducked, dropping her bag and rolled to her left, pulling the pistol from her waist. She caught the spark of the dart as it struck the cobbles just beside her as her own pistol spat. The large man buckled and dropped silently. She spun again to confront the other 3 only to see 2 down and the other sprinting away down a narrow alley. Justin swung his weapon in an arc to shoot only to see the third man drop and slide into the alley wall.
Both glanced at each other to assure all was well and with a question. That was answered as the tall slim man from the shop appeared from a shadowed doorway, pistol held at his side. He smiled at them both and then waved several times as though brushing them away. Justin smiled and nodded.
"Come on Jo, let's go." She glanced between the 2 men and with a small nod of her own, holstered her weapon, brushed some dirt off her sweater, picked up her bag and recommenced the interrupted journey.
Neither said a word until they were back in Jo's room. She ordered a light supper for 2 and a local bottle of red. Then turned to Justin with a questioning gaze.
"Well... it seems we were right. She was expecting you. Those thugs just didn't expect you to be that alert... and they certainly didn't expect me. That, ah, gentleman you just met is Colonel Silvestro Santini, one of the top boys in the Gruppo. I knew he was aware of us... didn't expect him to be roaming about in back alleys though."
"Hmm, he was at the gun shop. Headed out as I came in, so I guess he was watching and maybe wanted a look at me close up. Jorge mentioned the Gruppo and that they had given unofficial sanction to our presence." She stopped as a wide smile spread across Justin's face.
"What?"
The smile widened. "You mean you got more than three words out of Jorge? Damn... you must have, ah, impressed him." He laughed aloud as Jo scowled and blushed at the same time.
The conversation was interrupted by a knock as their supper and wine was delivered. While Jo dealt with room service Justin stood on the small balcony and made a phone call. She laid out the food and poured 2 glasses as Justin returned to the room flipping his phone shut.
"Just spoke to Ted. There's been virtually no movement at the house. She is definitely still there along with about a dozen others. At least 8 of those are combatants, probably armed." He paused while Jo let that sink in. After a moment she nodded and he continued.
" He also says he has a way in. Rigged a door bolt and rewired the alarm switch. We can be inside in under a minute, almost certainly unobserved. I figure you go in the front door all piss and vinegar while Ted and I will sneak in the back way. If the Gods are looking our way we can finish this in a few hours tomorrow morning. Ted's snoozing as much as possible but he'll be wide-awake if there's any movement... or tomorrow morning. I'll join him at dawn and you can go in any time after that." He paused and measured his words carefully.
"Are you sure Jo? I know this was in the game plan but..."
"Hey come-on Justin. I can do this... no problem. This bitch needs to go down. And I owe her. It'll be fine." She poured confidence into her expression until he nodded and turned away sipping his wine to gaze out the window. Had he been watching her expression as it turned inward and flashed with fear he might well have called it off and asked for an air strike or something equally ridiculous. Jo's emotions rolled and thrashed like a cat cornered by a pack of dogs. Fear she knew... but this was something else. Somewhat irrational and unexplainable, but all too real, not incapacitating, but...
7.
The hired car was parked to the side just up from the door. She had dressed carefully to show elegance and style while maintaining comfort and ease of movement. A charcoal pantsuit, she couldn't help but smile... it was Italian, over a cream silk roll neck blouse, small black shoulder bag and the same flat-soled black ankle boots. Both her holstered pistols were concealed under the tailored jacket. Spare mags clipped to her waist belt and the right under-arm strap, the remaining 2 in her bag. Overkill she thought, but better safe than sorry. If it came to a shoot out, any more than the twenty rounds her pistols held between them was likely pointless. She would probably be dead before that. Or otherwise out of action. At that thought she shivered.
A smartly dressed maggiordomo answered the door at her rapping of the large lions head knocker. He showed no expression as she introduced herself and asked to see Dr Alvi... on personal business. She pushed past him and headed for the house. Startled it took a moment for him to catch up, he ushered her across a large courtyard, to a side door and into a library or sitting room.
"Se lei soddisfarebbe l'attesa qui signora." He bowed stiffly and left, closing the door behind him.
She pulled a compact and checked her makeup and smiled as she finished a touch up to her lips, 'perfect'. That last thought followed by a rueful shake of her head, she slipped the compact back into her bag and half turned as the door opened. Two large black suited men entered and spilt to opposite sides. The first tracked her expressionlessly, the second stopped suddenly and his eyes flared as he recognised her.
He reached for his armpit as she spun and in the same movement flicked the pistol from her waist to shoulder height and fired. It caught him centre chest before his hand had cleared his lapel and the snagged weapon discharged into the chair beside him. The other, caught by surprise, dropped and rolled to a table and smacked a button on the underside. A steady, not over loud, but intrusive ring echoed through the house.
He took that momentary distraction to pull his own and fire at this deadly woman. He was not a good shot... it smacked the wall a metre to her left as she swung her own, tracking his roll and dropped him to the floor with a head shot.
"Shit!" She swore loudly at this turn of events. She hated killing, but they had agreed, in fact Justin had insisted... no prisoners. If guns where drawn anyone even vaguely threatening went down. No second chance, no fancy tricks, no mercy.
At almost the same time she heard shots echo in another part of the house followed by a quiet stutter, the carbines she guessed. Shrugging mentally she dropped her bag and stalked out the door and began to search. Ted and Justin were very good... much better than these jokers... she hoped. Whatever the case, she and they were on their own for the moment.
She searched several rooms before returning to the central foyer and looking up the stairs. Every minute or so there were a few more shots followed by another of those stutters. They seemed to be slightly separated so both were still active and hopefully gaining control.
She climbed stiffly, almost in slow motion, arms out, the pistol tracking side to side, breathing regular and slow in time to the movement. She had a slight hiccup of laughter as she thought how this would look on film. 'Stupid, that's how'. But then no actor had people firing live rounds at them that were intended to kill... 'Stuff style'. The fact that no one was in sight and no one was shooting almost made her laugh out loud, '...so I look like a goose... I'm not a cooked one... yet'.
She reached the top and paused, took a deep breath and spun across the hall and into an open door. Quickly searched the room and then the one next door. Something drew her to the large double doors at the end of the hall. 'There...', she knew it.
She crouched outside the door and listened with every cell in her body. A small creak just inside to the right, shoe leather she guessed. 'Tsk, tsk... shouldn't wear new shoes to a gunfight'. She drew her energy and exploded it with a screamed ""Kiai!!"" The shuffled sidekick to the central lock shattered the mechanism and flung both halves of the door inward. The right side caught the guard she had heard move on the shoulder and his gun spun away across the room, she dropped him where he stood with two shots to the chest. She turned to the second but was not quick enough. He slammed her against the doorframe, stunning her and causing her own weapon to slide across the floor.
A forearm smash to her neck dropped her to the floor. As he went to stamp on her she spun and flipped upright, catching him in the groin with her shoulder. He rose to tiptoe and then dropped with a wavering cry. She allowed him to half rise, spun him back to back using his own weight for leverage as they both knelt on the floor, then with her arms locked across his throat over her shoulders, tensed and surged upright and forward. The snap as his neck broke was audible. As the body dropped to the floor she vaguely registered movement of someone reaching and pulling swiftly back and down to her left. She spun breath rasping in her throat to find Luciana lunging at her with a blazing expression of... hatred?
A piercing fire burst from her belly as Luciana hit her with whatever she had grabbed. Joanna stood still as pain spread up and out from the point of impact. He hands grasped at... what the hell was that?
"Oh... shit... you have got to be fucking kidding?" She rasped the outraged exclamation in an exhausted whisper, the ingrained pain at the expletives overridden by numbness. Her eyes roamed the wall to see the coat of arms and a single sword. The other was currently stuck through Joanna's body and seeping bright red. She slumped to her knees and clinically noted it was not pumping dark arterial blood, so... maybe.
As she dropped to her knees she looked straight at Luciana who stood with an almost contemptuous expression, glaring at Jo.
"Ah Petra my dear, such a waste. I dearly wanted to have a proper chat. Get reacquainted. You left so suddenly last time. We have business to discuss, but alas..."
She shrugged and poured a brandy from a decanter on the sideboard, gazing indifferently at Jo as the breath wheezed painfully from the kneeling woman. Sipping she crossed her arms across her chest clasping one elbow and holding the glass just below her mouth in a loose fingered grasp.
She moved as though to sit and watch Jo die, when her head cocked at another stuttered burst, just down the stairs it seemed. Muttering under her breath, she reached for a dropped weapon and moved to Jo to give the coup de grace.
Those madly flaming eyes locked on Joanna's and a feeling of inevitability and futility washed over her. She watched as Luciana sneered and raised the gun to fire point blank at her forehead. Another stuttered burst, closer this time momentarily distracted Luciana. As her gaze switched to the door Jo had a flash of Bec being hit by the car and then being sprayed with flying glass as the car window exploded. A remembered 'I love you...' echoed in her mind Jo screamed and with a gasping drawn out groan pulled the sword from her stomach. Dropped it to the floor and drunkenly swayed upright.
Luciana was so surprised she just stood transfixed as Jo lurched forward and with everything she had left punched the chin of the wavering taunting figure that stood over her.
Luciana stumbled backwards, tripped on a bunched floor runner, crashed through the glass French door to a small enclosed balcony and flipped over the low railing.
Jo dropped to her knees again, breath rasping, totally spent. She had no idea how long it was before she dragged herself to her feet and lurched, more sideways than straight ahead, finally through the shattered doors. She stood wavering as consciousness threatened to leave and looked over the edge at the whitened fingers and glaring face of Luciana. The burning hate and madness in those eyes caused Jo to suck in a breath and sob aloud.
At that sound and a slight shift downward as the finger hold slipped those burning eyes cleared. A sad and slightly puzzled expression flitted across the beautiful features momentarily. Almost as soon as it appeared it vanished as the flickering insanity returned. Her grip failed as Jo stood utterly unable to raise a hand to help. The blazing eyes fell away silently and Jo watched as the shadowy figure bounced and flipped as it fell down into the valley several hundred metres below.
She stood on wobbly legs for a moment more and gazed out at the mountains beyond.
"Physician... heal thyself..." she mumbled and slumped to the floor. She was vaguely aware of Justin and Ted moving to her as though in slow motion. Ted ripped her blouse to shreds and wrapped her waist in the torn strips, laying her flat as Justin screamed into his phone.
Darkness engulfed her.
8.
Jo gazed out the window at the shadowy eucalypts waving languidly in the slight evening breeze. She felt an unaccounted nervousness, Bec was up to something. It was her 34 th birthday and that little blonde devil had promised a present to remember. It was two months since her return from Italy and apart from some tenderness and residual stiffness in the puncture points she was fine. She had been relieved to hear that Becs collarbone was not broken, only sprained. Her mind wandered as she waited for whatever evil scheme was hatching in the other room to be revealed.
It seemed the Colonel had been surreptitiously backstopping them. As Ted had attempted to stop the bleeding and Justin had dialled there was an unmarked ambulance with 2 paramedics on the way. As soon as he heard Justins voice it was moving as was a team of his own... just to begin investigations, of course.
She had woken in a strange room to find the Colonel sitting in an armchair and reading the paper. He glanced up to see her awake and made a disparaging remark about clumsy foreigners. Folded the paper and stepping across dropped it on the bed inviting her to read. He then bowed slightly and with that same sardonic expression she remembered form the shop, left. A nurse had bustled in and in broken English had explained she was in a Private Hospital under the auspices of the Colonel, which meant the Gruppo and had been treated by a top surgeon and should recover fully. She would remain here for a probable 2 weeks. "If you need anything..." gesturing at the small wired buzzer as she left.
Basic questions answered Jo fumbled through the paper. Reading was tougher than speaking and she didn't speak all that well. It seemed she had been here for 3 days. A piece on page two described the Carrabinieri investigations into a criminal raid on the villa of the renowned Dottore Alvi, resulting in her death and the deaths of several business associates. Promising leads, dah, dah, dah, early arrest likely, dah, dah, dah. No mention of clumsy foreigners or the Gruppo. She lowered the paper and shook her head softly only then becoming aware of the vase of flowers and a small card sitting on a table to her left. She stiffly slid out of bed and carefully stepped to them and read the card. 'Signora Joanna I drink an espresso in your honour. Get well soon. Jorge.'
Smiling she had stumbled back to bed and slumped gratefully. 'No walking just for the moment girlie.'
Justin and Ted had visited a little while later and filled in the blanks. Everything was covered, they were clear. Bec was fine and back home. They flew out that afternoon. It was another 12 days before she followed. The Colonel had driven her to the airport, said barely 2 words. As she turned to head for the boarding gate he spoke.
" Avere un Collins di agente di volo piacevole. Lei ᨠbenvenuto qui in qualunque momento." He bowed deeply and walked away without another word.
Home. Soon, she sighed and settled into her seat.
The following 2 months had been quiet and gentle. She recouped and they were happy. The car had been fixed, better than 'new' and Bec was back teaching and loving it. All apparent sins forgiven or forgotten. Joanna was off for another month... and then, back in.
Her thoughts returned to the present as a clip clip sound coming down the hall reached her ears. The vision that greeted her eyes caused a gasp of astonishment. Bec stood in the doorway wearing what could only be described as a Dominatrix outfit. High, spike heeled boots, glossy tight lace up dress, all black. Dark red lips and nails, hair slicked back into a tight bun. She had a stern expression on her face as she slapped a riding crop against her thigh.
"Well missy. I did say I was going to make you scream next time."
It took another few seconds before Joanna could react and she did. Laughter erupted as she shook and almost fell off the lounge. She gasped as a small stab hit her middle and tears rolled down her face, more hysterics than pain.
Bec to her credit held the pose for almost a minute before she too burst into laughter and gently threw the crop at the by now floor sitting Joanna.
"What? You don't like the new look? I wonder if I can get my money back from the hire shop. Can you believe they even have a Dom section?" She managed to gasp out between bubbles of laughter.
"Oh Bec... I do love you. But I have to say... you, ah, make a lousy Dominatrix. Attitude dear, you need attitude." The laughter bubbled for several more minutes as they cuddled on the floor and wiped each others tears. Eventually Bec led the way to the bedroom, the crop left unnoticed on the floor, took charge and... well if not a scream it was a moan... of pleasure.
Some time later, more than a little dishevelled they lay in each others arms, at peace.
"Happy 34 Joanna my love. I think we're going to be fine. Just fine."
~~~ FINI ~~~
Any thoughts or comments I can be contacted - [email protected] Anything short of abuse welcome.
This rambling little thingie inspired by various 'conversations', readings and general musings over recent months.
The letter? Oh yeah, that's in there somewhere.
This is a work of adult fiction. No resemblance to reality should be inferred or expected. Sort of.
Copyright KLS 2007.
Letter to a Friend
By Kristina.L.S.
So what's all this then? Well it's sort of a rambling monologue stream of consciousness thing. I wrote it some months back... well actually I wrote this right now over an hour at 8 o'clock on a Saturday morning, but the letter, well I'll get to that.
It's a funny ol' world innit? I mean who are all these ODD people that come here and read and maybe comment or God forbid write something, having just that pinch of ego enough to say, ' well here it is', and expect to be taken even remotely seriously.
Now, I can see those that see my name on something and roll their eyes muttering, 'Oh Christ... not her again. It's probably some middle-aged bloke with an identity complex anyway'... Ah, fair enough, each to their own thoughts and welcome to them.
So, where's the letter? Oh... I'll get to that. It's sort of a ramble. Yeah I know I said that already.
I chat at various times to people far and wide, sort of the reason for it all in the first place and friendships can and do result. Some might be regular correspondents and others infrequent... and maybe some of it's in my mind and they're indifferent, but hey I can dream.
So even if it's not a regular thing it's still there, at least I like to think so, so leave me to my dreams already.
So here I am taking myself waaay tooo seriously but someone will prick my balloon for me I'm sure. All sorts that come here will at times wonder about who and what these 'others' are, truth and fiction meld quite readily. Sometime a bit of truth might filter through, perhaps depending on how open said writer is... or maybe how clever.
Clever?? Me?? Oh do be serious. I'm a semi-literate, uneducated fool at the best of times. Open? Well maybe, sometimes. In a sort of self exploration, demon wrestling sorta way. Ok, crap sentences... I did say I was semi-literate.
Oh get on with it.
Hmm parts of this have been inspired as I said by various 'conversations'. Some might even recognise bits, others, perhaps not. But there's all sorts in here, so even if you don't see yourself( there's that ego thing — assuming someone will actually read this) rest assured you're here somewhere. Even those I've never 'spoken' to. Those readers and writers that come and go. The stories that sit forlornly begging comment or response, but sadly at times may not get it... or what was wanted maybe. I feel bad at times, but then there's too much sometimes and it might not be my thing and so...
But then that's the point of it all isn't it. To give that space where anyone (almost) can try their hand and hope to be well received, which mostly they will be. Each to their own and all that, space to breathe and grow. It's nice to see the gradual ease and confidence that comes as people get comfortable and think... 'hey maybe I'...
So?... the Letter?... exasperated sigh in the background. Oh yeah, sorry.
Well it was inspired by a 'gal' friend that seemed rather down at the time. I may have over-interpreted a little but she seemed to be edging too close. So I wrote this as a sort of... 'well I know at times it's hard, but it beats the alternative'...
Now she will probably read this and blush and or go cold thinking...' how could you put that up there?'... (and what's with all this little 3 dot things?!) But then maybe she'll accept why. Sort of the same reason I wrote it to her in the first place.
Now the events loosely described herein happened some time ago, so need not be a source of fear or worry. And of course it's a personal thing... (so what the hell are you doing putting it up here then?)
Ah, good question.
Well there's been all sorts of discussions about motivations and life and philosophy and self and this vs that and...
It's, I guess, an affirmation. That no matter if the world stomps on you at times it's the only one we got. Not taking into account various beliefs on the afterlife and what that may or may not be. You have to live for now. So if that insensitive jerk calls you names and hurts you, or that guy or girl smiles and nodds as if to say, 'hey... that's cool, just be you'... or that batty little old lady that pats your cheek and calls you a loverly boy even though you're standing there in a skirt and top, made up and looking simply wonderful.
Ya gotta laugh.
Not always easy though is it? But still, it's all there is, maybe.
So you wander along 'doin' the best ya can' to paraphrase a song and even though things might get you down at other times there is beauty and joy, so it evens out mostly.
The LETTER?!?! Oh ok. Sorry, got carried away.
Here...
Let me tell you a story.....
Many years ago there was a young man. He was smart enough but uneducated and perhaps a little chip on shoulder conceited or arrogant. He fell in love. A lovely young girl that seemed to love him in return...but he had a secret.
One night she went on a girls night out and came home late and confused as to why she wanted to go with the rock star that propositioned her…
even when she said she had her period... he still wanted her. She was upset and confused… but he knew… she didn't love him. She thought she did, but…
And so he drank and wrung hands and listened to Jim Croce (a lot) and then broke down and told her. He loved her, but...
He was really a girl... or sort of...
And she cried… 'I've lost you' ... 'No, only if you want to…'
Which of course, in the light of day...she did. So some months later she began to see a hairdresser that needed a model for an 'expo' and so... she came home very late… and so... he knew for certain... could they be friends? .. he tried ... but no... that didn't work
It was his 22nd BDay and he got home after a day of flat hunting and job seeking to find a card on 'his' bed in the second room of their flat. He did not open the card. He sat and cried and the loss of family and now love (or something like it and...) He dropped his keys on the bed and left the flat. No goin' back, ya know. Bought a bottle (Sthn Comfort.. his first drunk at 15 (that's another story), can't stand the stuff now… funny that) …and walked the 10k to the beach.. a small island attached by a little bridge and a view to the heads and the ocean beyond. Sat on said island and DRANK. Many thoughts and a few hours later he wobbled to his feet and waded to his knees while looking at the ocean. He stood there crying and looking at the wavy silky sea... waiting…for what? And if he swam for moments before sinking...what then? What does he miss? Does anyone miss him?
Needless to say he returned to the island. People can be thoughtless and unkind. Sometimes even cruel. But we are who we are and so we must be.
I have found the result of 2 that could not continue. I will never forget the people that were. I do not yell at them, nor anyone else, it just is. I do not ever want to be there again. Nor will I ever put someone else in that position.....I think. But.......
People see what they see and feel what they feel. I am 36, but I have lived for near 30 years as a male, sort of, and that cannot be re-written. And then even if I was to have surgery I would still not be a woman, not really. And yet....
Now here's the bit I could regale you with humorous tales of having to break in through the boarded up doggie door, but…
Oh the lady in question never knew. She came home briefly on the Monday, but…
'Ooh yeah, life goes onnn, long after the thrill of livin' is gone' ,
apologies to John Mellencamp.
****
I have a pretty bad record in taking in or accepting or maybe being accepted by groups of various sorts in the TG/CD world. Almost all my experiences of the group or institutionalised type setting have been very negative. That scene in 'Silk Purse' of the group session was in a renowned charity/half way/ help whoever place in Kings Cross Sydney. It was as I described it an unbelievably negative and off-putting experience. It scared me enough to try and muddle through for another 5 years. Had I been less together I might have given up and done something rather desperate and final. I think because I had already fought that one I held it together and kept going. God knows what happened to some others that wandered in as I did. I saw a bit of it some years later and that is more than enough for my lifetime thank you very much.
(Oh... this bit was actually written to someone else, but it sorta fits, so...)
I'll have to have a look at Tri Ess...I suspect it's similar to The Seahorse club that operates here. It was suggested to me way back by my Shrink that I connect with them. He saw a little resistance and dislike on my face and said it is only as a means to become more comfortable or acceptable as a female, not a statement of who you are. I accepted that...but still never looked them up. In retrospect it was probably not a bad idea. It would have helped with the public acceptance thing.... and that is a BIG one to get through. You said you have gone out dressed once or twice…so you know just how terrifying it can be. And just when you start to get comfortable or at ease something happens to dump a bucket in your lap. Unless you've been there you can never quite understand how scary it can be.
****
So there it is and what's the point you may ask and why post it un-proofed and rambling and you’re a crap writer and that bit's wrong and doesn't make sense and you spelt...
Sorry, self-indulgent crap. But I'm allowed and maybe someone will get something from it.
I mean hey, this is BC the home of all sorts of nutters and loners and would be 'writers' and why not. Because that's what it's all about.
Acceptance. Difference. Take your pick, dip and weave, lurk or join. It's all good in it's own way.
Just be true to you, OK.
Respectfully yours
Kristina
Any thoughts or comments I can be contacted - [email protected]
Anything short of abuse welcome.
A former undercover cop is forced to re-visit his last and toughest case. It wasn't much fun the first time. He certainly didn't want to meet that lot again.
This gets a little dark and nasty in places so be forewarned.
It has been sitting for many months, almost abandoned more than once, as others explored similar themes. I decided to finish it, so...
A former undercover cop is forced to re-visit his last and toughest case. It wasn't much fun the first time. He certainly didn't want to meet that lot again.
This gets a little dark and nasty in places so be forewarned.
It has been sitting for many months, almost abandoned more than once, as others explored similar themes. I decided to finish it, so...
For Anne... a friend, not always an easy thing. Thanks for the support.
This is a work of adult fiction.
No resemblance to reality should be inferred or expected. Copyright KLS 2006.
Luciana
By Kristina.L.S.
1.
Pete Collins suppressed a laugh as the thought wafted through his mind. He appraised his reflection and smirked.
"Bloody hippie", he muttered to himself.
Since his 'retirement' 2 years ago at the ripe old age of 30 he had relaxed just a pinch. The rigid self-discipline that has served him well for over 15 years was now not quite the Bushido style code he had lived by since discovering aikido as a skinny kid. He still practiced for 2 hours every morning, was as lean and probably fitter than he had been at 20. But he drank a little, coffee and wine. Red meat, yeah ate that too and the hair. Two years with only slight trims it now hung past his shoulders, when not pony-tailed. The rest of the squad would shit if they saw him now. That or break down in hysterical laughter. But he was as lean and deadly as ever. Well almost.
He finished shaving and turned stark naked to find Sabina sitting in the doorway with an amused grin on her intelligent face. The soft brown eyes watched him closely. He reached down and grabbed a large flat hairbrush.
" Come on then Sab, let's give that hair of yours a good brush."
The eyes sparkled as she jumped up and headed out the door. Stopping only to check he was following. It took 10 minutes and when he came back with a coffee, milk and sugar, he couldn't take it straight, she was waiting for him. He sat beside her on the back step and looking down the valley draped his arm over her shoulders and gently tugged on her right ear. She lent into his hand to encourage him.
" You like that huh. Belgians have the best ears. Very tuggable."
She responded by pressing her head into his hand. Laughing aloud he looked at her with a big grin.
"Are you sure you're a dog Sab. Not some alien pretending to be a dog while studying these weird beings called humans."
She turned slightly while keeping the pressure on his hand and he could almost swear she winked. The long, silky black coat glistened with health.
"Spoilt bitch", he muttered and then laughed again as she butted his hand for more attention. Obligingly he continued as his thoughts wandered.
Two years ago he had finished the longest and most dangerous case he had ever been involved in, three and a half years start to finish. Finish being a rather loose definition. He was out because he'd be dead otherwise. Sure they'd shut down parts of the operation but they certainly hadn't 'finished' it.
Hundreds, probably thousands of lives. Torn apart, for lust and profit. Human trafficking in young women and boys from all parts of the world to all parts of the world. Prostitution and drugs.
He'd 'gone in' in Singapore as a wandering mercenary. Followed the trail for months slowly edging inwards. Thailand, the UK, France, Spain, Germany and finally Italy where he met her. The number 2 or 3. Luciana Alvi. Embittered plastic surgeon, psychiatrist and cold, heartless bitch.
If any of the girls or boys needed a touch up or a little conditioning. Off to Luciana. Mentally and physically she changed them into what was desired. Compliant, beautiful play things for the rich and depraved. Depressingly there were many.
He should have killed her that day when they raided the clinic. Could have but tried to preserve his cover. A futile gesture. She knew it was him anyway and it cost the life of a good cop. Another 6 months to wind things up and he was out. Mentally and physically drained. He had hocked himself to the hilt and bought this old cottage an hour out of the city. Semi rural and peaceful, 5 acres of near virgin bush in a sloping valley and a river, well more like a creek, at the bottom. He'd been here 6 months doing the odd handyman job to stop from getting bored. Was almost back to normal. Then he had met Bec.
She was blond and blue to his brown and brown. 5'7 to his 5'11. Smart and tough. Soft and bubbly. Gentle and loving. Perfect. The first meeting was not particularly auspicious. A car full of young would be lovers had crawled along beside as she walked down the footpath. Coming out of the local general store he had caught the tail end of their not so subtle entreaties and watched as she had stopped and told them to piss off, with a very un-ladylike manner and accompanying gesture.
When she suddenly had 5 very angry and apparently drunk young men surrounding her, poking and pulling her clothes, she blanched in fear. His stepping in to hopefully diffuse things had simply pulled the cork. They spun and circled, one producing a knife.
He had gone into automatic cold and clinical combat mode. A gentle word to walk away had failed, as he knew it would. As knife man postured and took a half hearted swipe he had stepped and grabbed, twisted and spun, out and down.
Knife man flipped under his own weight, his wrist snapped and shoulder dislocated. Moaning on the ground he was out. The suddenness and viciousness of his response had stunned the others and Bec. She watched horrified as the other 4 had charged en masse. He had spun and ducked and put all four down in seconds. Mainly bruising to flesh and ego. One probable broken nose from a palm strike he had pulled.
Initially he had been charged. But after Bec's statement and then when his name started red lights flashing he had been released. All charges dropped. With a sigh he had headed out. It was all very well to save the lady from the dragon as long as she didn't see you doing it.
As he went to cross to his car a hand had gently pressed his arm. Startled he stopped and realised just how woolly he had gotten. He had stared into those blue eyes and nodded at her thanks, apologising for the violent nature of his intervention. She had shrugged and with a soft kiss to the cheek and another thank you, wandered off. It took another month before he had the courage to ask her out.
Eighteen months later. Well maybe tonight we'd see.
"What do you reckon Sab. Could you handle another girl about the place? Of course you would still be number one. Bec will understand once you explain it to her. I know you like each other."
Sabina pressed her head up into his armpit forcing a hug then shifted to get his hand in the right place. With a rueful smile he laughed and nodded.
"Yep, she's an intelligent woman. I'm sure she will acknowledge your obviously superior position."
Sabina turned to face him, Licked his face all over then trotted down the hill to do dog stuff. Or perhaps contact the mother ship.
He stood and went inside to rinse his cup then grabbing his guitar headed out to the verandah once more. One of his aims on 'retiring' was to get his playing worthy of the instrument a 'retirement gift' from a Chinese luthier. He had been 'asked' by the local triad chief to 'amend' his shipments of exotic woods to import drugs. Pete had been the spearhead in cracking that one.
It was a small body cutaway style. A finger-picking special. Rare Brazilian and European timbers formed into a beautiful and resonant shape that rang like a bell. Maybe in another 2 years if he worked at it he'd be good enough to own it. He ran through a few songs he liked then began working on 'Romeo and Juliet' the old Mark Knopfler thing. After an hour attempting to get the new chord changes fluid he packed it in for now. A few things to take care of, then the classic dinner and movie with his girl. Well hopefully his girl after tonight.
They met up at the theatre entrance. He, soft cotton jacket over t-shirt and jeans. Bec, a flowing cotton dress with just a touch of flirty sass to it. Perfect. It was a pretty good chick flick if you believed the reviews. Easy going fun whatever, a little sappy maybe, but not bad. But then sappy was good for tonight. Patted his pocket with the tickets for a later session as they headed arm in arm toward the car park and a 10 minute drive to the restaurant.
It was casual and they had eaten there before. Good food and atmosphere. A nice secluded table where a nervous guy could do the bended knee thing without attracting too much attention. He nervously flicked at the small red box in his coat pocket.
A short gust caught the old ladies hat and whisked it away from her. He disengaged and four quick steps caught it. Handed it back and turned to see Bec standing at the edge of the footpath wide eyed and happy as she mouthed 'my hero'. Ten yards as he felt the sting. Saw the car mount the kerb and hit, tossing up and over and down to roll once and stop. Like a discarded toy thrown down in anger. The car had stopped as 3 men grabbed him and smoothly as a secret service phalanx picked him up and threw him into the back seat. Slammed the door and faded away. He saw the driver turn. Long black hair, pale skin and bright red lips.
"Ooh you are gonna' be one sorry little man when we finish with you. Shouldn't mess with the big leagues."
She laughed and started smoothly away as he faded out.
2.
Bec awoke 48 hours later to find a large black man in smart casual clothes watching her closely. Starting slightly she winced in pain. He smiled gently and explained he was a former colleague of Pete' and hoped she could help them. She had already been told she was here for probably a month. Then, physical therapy for 6 to a year. Shattered left femur and tibia. Fractures to both clavicle', concussion. Sundry bruises and abrasions. Lucky they said.
He studied her as though debating something. The story she told. The hat. Pete turning her way. Slapping a hand to his neck. A large man walking toward him with a big pistol at his side. Then the swirl of confusion and blackness.
It fitted. She wanted to know what he knew.
"We think Pete was grabbed by some people connected with his last case. Very professional, very dangerous people. We will try everything to get him back. But..."
His voice trailed away as he wordlessly handed her a small red box.
"If you need anything please call me."
He sat his card on the bedside table and silently left. She looked down at the box in her hand. Opened it to see a gorgeous diamond and buttery gold ring. Trembling she lifted it out and squinted to read something written inside the band. 'Bec love forever Pete'. With tears rolling she mentally wandered future could be's and refused to acknowledge impossibility.
"I'll be waiting Peter."
Nine weeks later she drove Pete's old Subaru wagon up the track to his place. Thankfully it was Auto with power steering or she couldn't have done it. Sab was in the back.
Dad loved all dogs. He was less sure about that now. Sabina was a hyper puppy. Too much for a 60 year old even if mostly well behaved. She needed attention and lots of exercise. Bec could barely hobble. But on home ground she would exercise herself, mostly.
"Here we are girl, home. We'll keep things ready for Pete, eh Sabina."
As Bec straightened on her cane Sabina dived out the window and ran in circles for a minute then spun and rushed back. Lunged upright on her back legs and landed both front paws on the woman's stomach. Her balance was perfect as Bec took almost no weight at all. The flash of fear faded as she realised Sab knew she was weak and adjusted accordingly. She leant slightly forward for a lick as Sab stretched and was off again down the valley. Watching with a smile and light giggle Bec turned and limped up the steps and inside.
3.
Bright, almost painful lights, glaring through his closed eyes. He sensed no one close. Swung his legs up and sat. Sluggish and slow. How long? A plain concrete room, barred window with an angled louvre giving a view of sky. A metal cot frame bolted to the wall. Thin cotton mattress. No bed linen. No furniture or fixtures. A large prison cell.
Took stock physically as he stood, stretched and tried a slow kata. Off balance and uncoordinated. Something tight wrapping his waist, hips to chest. Pinching and diminishing movement and breathing. Skin strangely smooth and hairless. Something caught in his hair.
Slowly felt all over.
Huh. Earrings. One in each. Nails, long, filed and rounded. Hair softer and silky. Stitches below his.... 'Oh shit!', empty scrotum. Fear struck like a baseball bat as he slumped back on the bed.
'No little Pete's now. Fuck!' Bit back a very uncharacteristic sob. He knew what Luciana could do. He was in big trouble.
Checked the room thoroughly. Nothing he could use. Surprisingly, no cameras or mic's unless they were embedded somewhere. The room looked older than that. Still a possibility, but unlikely. Technology moved fast. The view panel clattered open and then slammed shut. Ten, fifteen minutes later she waltzed in.
"Ah. How is our lovely guest today? Feeling refreshed Petra my dear." She laughed at the flare of anger in his eyes.
"Stand pet!"
He glared and didn't move as she lifted her hand with a small remote car alarm type device. Her smile got wider as she pushed the button. It struck deep inside. He curled attempting to clutch at a pain that was part of him. Radiated out from his gut. Slumped to the hard floor at her feet. Tried to hold back the moan he knew she wanted.
"Painful, yes? I am assured it is excruciating and very effective. There will be no insolence. All key personnel have one of these and may use them freely. You cost us a great deal of money Judas. Or is that Judacia now? You have been here for 43 days. Your body is now hairless permanently. Your little gonads are gone. No interference with the implants that will smooth, soften and... well perhaps later. More than the initial treatments have already. Muscle tone is 'improving' nicely. Those rough little stitches you can still feel. That is where this marvellous little device is fitted. Nestling against your prostate. Very efficient. A few more shocks and impotence is assured. Not that that will be an issue for long. Another few months and you will be ready to start to repay."
She reached over and stabbed a small syringe into his upper arm.
"A relative of curare that causes temporary paralysis. I need to work on your face this afternoon and I don't want you to miss anything. Nose, brow, chin, lips and larynx, you will be just lovely. I am an artist after all. You will be conscious and aware. 'Feel' the knife, chisel and hammer, each tug on skin or muscle, each cut and stitch and yet there will be no tension to interfere with the end result. Primitive can be very sophisticated don't you agree. Well, perhaps you can't quite appreciate it at the moment, we will talk again tomorrow."
She smiled widely and walked out as he tried to move.
Slow and robotic. Panic threatened to take hold. Taking as deep a breath as possible he sought balance and slowly withdrew to a quiet place deep inside. He was lifted bodily and dropped unceremoniously onto a gurney. The man wheeling him was one of those. That day when Bec...
Each time he had slipped into the dark he had been revived. She had sliced, pulled and injected. Hammered and filed. Finally stitched and bandaged. No anaesthetic then or later. The 'feeling' of having your facial bones reshaped by the tools used was truly more than anyone could deal with. If this was meant to soften him it would most surely work. That or drive him insane at which point it would no longer matter, to him anyway.
The 'pleasant' after surgery visit was almost worse. As the pain rolled over and through him in waves, the simple 'solicitous' conversation had him shivering in fear and barely suppressing a sob more than once. As he lay securely bound in bandaged darkness his mind wandered into dark and lonely places best left unexplored as she teased, provoked and tormented.
"Sleep well Petra dear. Soon you will be ready to pay your debts. As gorgeous and willing a plaything as anyone could wish. That fit and capable body coupled with your agile and treacherous mind will be a challenge. One I will cherish greatly."
He could not see but he could 'feel' the beatific smile as Luciana whispered in his ear and then clip clipped from the room.
Terror washed him. Drenched him. He was certain any animal predator would be sniffing and slavering in anticipation if they were close enough to smell his fear. Could he somehow win by evading her in death? Was that the way beyond? It had been 12 days she had said as she cut the bandages away and delicately as a mother with a newborn, wiped salves and ointments into his healing skin.
"A few more days for the swelling and bruising to fade completely and you will see Petra dear. You will be so pleased. I do very good work. You will be just lovely."
4.
He had tried to hide the shock that first time when he had been stripped naked, the wrapping on his waist cut away, his face wiped clean. The large wall mirror reflected an alien image. Intellect said it was him, but the emotions stirred by the image where enough to prompt a near faint. Oh sure, he had guessed at her game plan, but... The confronting reality was...
Forcing himself to look he took a deep breath. His mother might recognise him, from a slight family resemblance.
His face. Nose, chin, throat. All finer, more, 'delicate' looking. Skin smooth and clear. Brows, arched and... feminine. Lips, pouty and full. Hair silky and thick, like a 'Cosmo' cover shot. It was his face, but a younger more feminine version. His gaze wandered lower... chest and shoulders, thinner, with swollen nipples and slightly protuberant pecs. Budding breasts? A slight shiver followed that thought. His waist seemed to nip in. Not quite wasp like, but much trimmer than his previous 30 inches. And that exaggerated his hips and slightly fuller backside as he swept his eyes down his legs… smooth and slim. Slightly knobby knees, but still... feminine. His feet had always been slim and small for his height, which had made getting proper fitting shoes a slight chore. He actually wore women's runners half the time as the lasts changed and the makers catered for wider feet. US 8, 8 and a half, narrow, flashed through his mind...
Closed his eyes and shook himself, trying to centre. Slowly he opened them and allowed the whole image to soak in. A tall, athletic, small busted woman. Fear struck again as he realised that the only spoiler was his shrunken penis, hanging limp and useless between his legs. He knew that would be... rectified, soon.
Almost as the thought reached his nerves to fight the pain struck and dropped him to the floor. He dimly heard her laugh as the needle jabbed his thigh and floating he was once more dropped on a gurney and wheeled toward...
He stirred to find small pads and wires stuck all over his body. The movement and soft groan had been noticed as a short time later she waltzed in.
"Ah Petra my dear, nice to see you back with us. You will be pleased to know that I have rectified your little protuberance problem and all is as it should be. It has been 14 weeks since we last spoke. Those pads and wires have been keeping you toned as we fed you intravenously. Such a bother, but then nothing but the best as we strive to reach our goal together."
She paused and smiling, stepped back to get a full view of her charge. Then tut-tutted softly.
" Oh do forgive me my dear. You are not up to date are you? Your little, ah, problem... down there, is all better. Fully functional, as a few of our staff members will attest. Yes I know, you missed it. But there will be other times and one of... oh my.... such a large.... I actually had doubts, but all was well. We do know your limits now in one sense at least. I really am very good, you will be so pleased."
She shook her head gently and smiled as she walked slowly around the bed.
With great effort he kept his eyes straight up to the ceiling and refused to follow her movement. She stopped just behind the head and he could feel her lean forward and then blow across his chest causing a strange tingle and tightening to flow inwards as the slight sweat dried suddenly.
"Oh yes, I almost forgot. While you where, ah, sleeping it off, I took the liberty of, well, fixing things up top. Just my artistic nature I'm afraid. Symmetry. Balance. Aesthetics is such an individual thing. But I pride myself in having a fair grasp of such. Yes... much improved. I know you will be thrilled. Not too big and yet more than a handful. Was there a children's story? Never mind. Wait till you see. Is that tears of joy? Gratitude? Not necessary Petra my dear. My reward will come in seeing you happy and fulfilled in your chosen role with us. Soon my dear... soon."
"Now, let's get these little sticky pads off and wipe away the glue. I'm sure you want to see the new improved you."
She walked back to where he could see her and gestured two nurses forward who proceeded to peel away the pads and wipe the areas with alcohol swabs and then with soft moistened cloths. He closed his eyes to avoid showing the mixed shame and fear as they gently wiped him all over. Taking, it seemed to him, just a little more time than necessary between his legs and on his chest. From the feel of things reality had shifted slightly.
Knowing and accepting were two entirely different things. Could he stop thinking 'he' and acknowledge what his own body told him? Did he want to? In which direction did salvation or madness lie? Did he have a choice anymore?
A picture of Bec mouthing 'my hero' popped into his head and he watched again as the car struck. The jolt of vicious anger flooded his system and his whole body tensed. Deliberately and slowly, 'she' exhaled and gained the centre. Opened her eyes and sat up slowly, with a cold smile on her face.
"Oh yes, I know your skills Luciana. I am sure you have done yourself proud. May I see?" Only slightly surprised to discover his voice softer and higher.
He caught a momentary flash of surprise on her face at his... no, her words.
Adjust. Survive. And when you can... fight! Stepped, slid, off the bed and trembling slightly turned to face her, stark naked. The weakness served to mask the anger that flowed easily just beneath the surface.
Luciana watched with a slight smirk.
" Oh but of course my dear. Please follow me. There is a mirror next door you may recall. Don’t worry about clothes, nothing we haven't seen before after all. Come."
The smirk still evident she turned and without pause led the way out the door and around the corner.
Each step confirmed difference.
They seemingly passed dozens of people, though probably only 10 or so. 'She' forced a proud and almost arrogant walk and ignored everything around her. Then stopped and stared at the alien reflection. A jolt of sheer terror flooded her system with adrenaline and she clamped her eyes shut in an attempt at regaining her composure. After perhaps a minute she opened them and slowly took in her new form.
Almost no trace of Pete, a tall, slightly muscular woman stared back. So... She stood for several minutes trying to assimilate the knowledge that the image in the mirror was... her. Fear roiled and then settled itself as a living presence in her stomach as the realisation that life as 'she' knew it was over. She clenched her will and thought... survive... Stand tall... win!
A soft chuckle was the only warning as pain struck and she collapsed to the floor. But this time it was not short or followed by a numbing injection. Seeming to rise and fall, pain washed in, rose and crashed, to recede and then come again, again and again. A strange keening sound could be heard and was the only point of reference outside the small orange flooded point that was the universe. Time passed and at a lower flare the thought intruded, she was that orange point, that keening noise and then all colour, all sound, left. To be replaced by a drifting soft blackness. Nothing. Was this death?
She woke to find herself back in her 'cell'. Bright, glaring light. Had someone painted the room gloss white in his... her, absence? Slight movement caused her to focus on the glare at the foot of the bed. A figure became visible and then clear. Tears formed and trickled down her face. Bec, exactly as she had been that evening stood smiling down at him... her, her... Oh God!!
'Hello Pete. You look tired... I miss you, come back soon. You owe me dinner.'
No sooner had her presence registered than she was gone. A sob blocked his cry as 'she' reached toward..."Bec... please!" Half falling she stumbled off the bed toward where... nothing... just the room. Her cell.
5.
It had been... days? Food was pieces of fruit left on a plate just inside the door every few hours. A soft plastic jug with one cup was always full on the floor at the end of the bed. Fresh, cool water. A constant as the world seemed to recede and drift. Was it days or...?
The door clattered open. Luciana breezed in flanked by 4 men carrying 2 cardboard porta-robes.
"Petra my dear. I certainly know that recovery can be an uncomfortable and embarrassing time, but it has been several weeks. You can't stay naked forever. Much as these fellows might enjoy that idea, it is bad for the women on staff. Lowers the bar. So. A gesture toward your acceptance as one of the team... a choice. One robe has some lovely frilly things, should you wish to explore the... ah, little miss. Or, on the other hand, some more grown up things.
Skirts blouses and shoes... much more suitable I think. But, that is your choice. Whatever you feel comfortable with my dear."
She laid two separate outfits on the bed.
One was a white cotton dress with lacy frills at hem, sleeves and collar, white knee socks and gloss black, flat soled, round toed shoes with straps across the instep.
The other was a white sleeveless blouse, dark satin skirt, lace top stockings and a pair of high-heeled shoes.
No underwear.
She waved to the men who removed the porta-robes to the corridor.
" You need to join us in the cafeteria my dear. Time to meet your fellows. I will be back in half an hour. Do be dressed, appropriately. Oh, no mix and match. You need to choose a style of your own. One or the other, see you soon."
And she was gone as 'she' gazed at the bed with a vague unease and a desire to wear clothing. To feel... normal, less exposed.
She looked at the choice. A little miss muffett blancmange or slightly tarty grown up. With a shiver and a small sigh she reached for the sleeveless blouse. The rubber strip on the stay up stockings, felt... odd. The shoes, a little awkward. Careful steps caused a slight, but controllable wobble. At least it seemed like a fairly normal outfit. The high slit on the left thigh of the skirt caused some small 'discomfort'. Better than being paraded naked, which was doubtless the choice. That, or, pain until she acquiesced. Or, Alice in Wonderland frills. 'Chase the bunny with the big fob watch', a wavering giggle started and was abruptly cut off. Humiliation was a relative thing, sanity as well. Sighing she set to getting used to the shoes. Measuring and adjusting her steps, trying to keep the movement minimal and the slit less obvious. It took about 20 seconds to realise that short of ridiculously short mincing steps the slit would open as she moved. With another sigh she acknowledged the inevitable and kept practicing. The sense of accomplishment seemed somehow wrong and yet...
Presumably half an hour later the door opened. Luciana clapped her hands and held them together in front of her lips.
"Oh yes. I knew you were an adult. Please twirl for me, let me see you properly."
She stood and watched as 'Petra' did a brief, slightly clumsy, twirl and then blushed, dropping her eyes.
"Just lovely my dear. A little work on your grooming and you will be ready to start work." She reached and lifted the girls chin and gently patted the face.
"Come, my dear. Your new workmates wish to get a look at the 'new girl'. Soon you will be one of the team. I am sure you can't wait to start your 'new career' can you. Let us go, you will make a good first impression. I have no doubts. Just a little while longer and you will be ready." Turned and led the way.
The walk down the hallway was a mixture of pleasant anticipation and a vague, twisting unease. She was meeting her new workmates. Good... yet, something seemed... wrong. They stopped at the door.
"Ready my dear. Don't worry. They are all looking forward to meeting you."
Everyone was really nice... As she was introduced around to the 20 or so people they stood to greet her. The women kissed her cheek, or hugged lightly and smiled a greeting. The men took her hand and either kissed it or with a light squeeze held on as they stepped back and gave her a lingering look head to toe. Everyone smiled. Everyone was glad to meet her. She felt welcome.
They sat and had coffee. She tried to match Luciana's posture and gestures. A few people wandered in and out. Any that hadn't met her as yet were called over to say hello. She was treated like a lady. She felt welcome.
The walk back to her room was pleasant as she and Luciana chatted. Just two women, walking the corridor at work. If she measured her steps she didn't flash herself with every one. At the door she hesitated...
"Yes my dear was there something? You did well by the way. Just a little work on your presentation and you will be ready."
"Um...well, thank you for the clothes..."
"My pleasure. I am so glad you chose to be an adult. Children can be a nuisance. There is a small wardrobe assembled in your room. A dozen changes in keeping with your look, which I fully approve by the way... Was there something else?"
"Ah, I was just... underwear." She blushed and looked at the floor.
A hand reached out and lifted her chin and she looked into Luciana's eyes where a small light danced. Her smile seemed too wide...
"Oh do forgive me my dear. Yes of course, I will attend to it immediately. I know just the styles to suit. Quality, with just a touch of the risqué. Must create the right impression. Oh, I almost forgot. You will find a small vanity with basic grooming materials... cosmetics and the like. Adele will be along later to start teaching you. Do apply yourself won't you my dear. The quicker you can present a professional image the quicker you can commence work. I must go. I have another new charge to see to. Be good, don't disappoint me."
She waved and was gone as the door clicked shut.
She stood and looked at the new additions to her room. But did not really see them. Why did she feel tense and afraid? Sat on the bed and tried to gather her thoughts...
6.
Adele was a gentle and skilled teacher. After a dozen 3 hour sessions Petra was deemed ready to take up her new tasks. She was skilled with makeup and basic hair styling. A quick change of look was easily accomplished. A touch up here, a twist or pin there. Posture and deportment, most satisfactory.
Staff Liason Officer. It was her job to see to the lowering of stress and generally keep morale high. Busy 'executives' needed to unwind and lay back. A dozen men and a few women would call on her for private consultation or public companionship, just to talk or whatever. She was to be at their disposal. Luciana as CEO of this division had sole discretion as to whom, when or for how long.
At first she was puzzled. Luciana introduced 2 men. She had met them before she thought, but... had dressed carefully. Skirt, stockings, heels and a soft silk, cap sleeved, wrap blouse. Makeup and hair, just so. As the men stood watching her expectantly 4 others carried in and set up a queen size ensemble while another fitted a dimmer knob to the light switch in the hall that controlled her room. A trembling boyish-girl carried a bundle of linen and made up the bed and practically fled as soon as she was done. Luciana watched it all with a slight smile.
Ten minutes later.
"There, all set Petra. Time to earn your keep. You belong to these men for the next 4 hours. Do try to please, won't you my dear. I expect glowing reports of your dedication to the firm."
She spun a small key-ring with a remote on it about her middle finger. Smiled widely at the slight fear in Petra's eyes, nodded to the two men and left closing the door.
The first dropped his trousers and beckoned her forward without a word. She watched, both horrified and fascinated as he grew erect and stroked himself lightly. Almost against her will she walked to him, dropped to her knees and began to 'ease his stress'. The other began slowly undressing as he idly watched the vaguely erotic act taking place a few feet away. Fully undressed he moved across and sat on the bed, several minutes later, gesturing for her to join him. Perhaps forty minutes later he rolled to the side and the second man joined them. They began working their way through positions and techniques they had read or fantasized about.
After they had left she lay naked, a distant, somewhat vacant expression on her face as she hummed what might have been a tune.
Her eyes flicked to the figure that sat on the bed. It was the pretty blonde girl. She looked sad as she took in the figure on the bed and sniffed at the aroma surrounding her. The sad look became one of distaste as a tear ran down her face. Petra reached to... nothing. There was no one there.
Days? Weeks? She was praised and greeted warmly by everyone she met. Luciana was pleased and that made her happy. She kept her room and particularly the bed clean and neat. Took care of her appearance, presentation was important.
Each time she finished with a visitor the blonde girl would stand just inside the door looking sadly at Petra as she hummed quietly and turned a glassy eyed gaze her way. Petra couldn't bear that sad face, looked away. When her gaze flicked back... nothing, no one. Who was she? Why did she look so sad?
He zipped up and patting her on the head left her kneeling on the floor licking her lips. She swayed slightly humming some nameless tune. A strange smile fixed in place that did not reach the glassy vacant eyes. Another figure stepped into her foreshortened view. Tall and slender. Black tight trousers above black pointed Cuban heeled boots. She stood slowly and slightly drunkenly. Smiled at this pale skinned woman with long black hair and bright red lips a slight frown crossing her face. Did she know this woman?
"Well look at you. Such a perfect little slut. Do you remember me sweetness? We met briefly, oh, 8, 9 months ago. Sorry I haven't dropped in before now but I've been busy. This is the first chance I've had to sample that magic mouth of yours. Just rinse out for me please, I don't want any mans seed on me."
She waved to the basin and proceeded to strip as she watched Petra gargle and wipe herself all over with a washcloth, quickly touch up her makeup and spritz lightly with perfume. She settled herself and watched as Petra slunk up the bed and kissing softly gradually reached her goal and set to her task.
"Oh that was really nice, thank you sweetness. You really don't remember me?" As she finished dressing she beckoned Petra to her, they stood face to face. She searched for some recognition. But all she saw was a glassy blankness. An easy going, aim to please, mindless slut. Smirking she kissed the end of Petra's nose.
"I drove the car that day. The look on your face was priceless. A pity your girl never knew what hit her."
She looked closely and saw a flicker of emotion.
The pretty girl stood on the footpath looking back at... her? Then numbness and the girl flew up and down as the car hit. A face turned and said... something. This face... this woman. Bec! Anger flared as memory flooded in. Saw the smile widen as the woman realised that 'Petra' knew. She looked at her hand and stared at the soft manicured fingers. Trembling she frowned, bent her fingers inward at the middle knuckle clenching it tight to form a blunt flat fist.
A slightly puzzled expression flitted across the pale woman's face as she watched the hand movement. Her eyes and nostrils flared as she saw the anger blazing from Petra's eyes.
With a scream of anger and pain the hand blade plunged straight out and slammed the pale throat just above the collarbone. She had seen the hand reach the button and felt the pain as she dropped but refused to close her eyes as the woman flipped backwards to the floor, thrashing and grasping at her crushed larynx. Rode the pain as she watched the thrashing weaken and then cease as the last few kicks of her heels on the floor signalled defeat. When finally the woman slumped and settled in death she crawled slowly to the bed and wrapped a sheet around her naked body as the pain washed and flowed and then she slipped into the warm blackness once more.
7.
She did not hear the klaxons, as those that could, fled the group of black clad raiders, who pointed at the slightest hint of aggression. Stumpy fat barrelled weapons that spat with quiet viciousness. Several dropping as though hit with an axe, before the rest fell to their knees and locked hands behind heads to barked commands. Zip ties secured wrists and ankles as the black raiders rolled in a fluid overlapping motion through the building. Searching each room until after a long 8 minutes the 'clear' call came over the headsets from all teams.
The leader, a large and imposing black man responding to a call came to a room where a woman had been found curled naked, wrapped loosely in a sheet. Unresponsive to voice or touch she lay on a crumpled bed with the body of another, this time fully clothed woman, lying on the floor nearby. He glanced at the trembling figure and called for a medic. Then turned his attention to the body. Self induced scratches and a deep crease in the throat showed the cause of death. Puzzled he stooped to her hand and found a small remote control. Finger locked on the button. He prized it loose and from the corner of his eye caught a slight slump in the figure on the bed. He pressed the button and noticed the figure stiffen again. Released and saw it slump.
Sudden shock flooded through him as he swore and flung the device across the room. 'Who was she?'
"Jesus... where's that fuckin' medic?"
He turned as another of his men came in and stopped suddenly just inside the doorway staring at the woman on the bed, a ring binder clenched in one hand. He was about to shout a rebuke when the stunned and deathly pale expression opened with a whispered, "Oh Christ... it's... "
The man turned to his boss.
"That woman... is, uh... was... Oh, sweet Jesus That... is Pete Collins."
He wordlessly waved the binder as all 5 men in the room turned shocked and disbelieving gazes on the naked figure only partly covered by a crumpled sheet.
8.
They stared through the two-way mirror at the figure gazing vacantly into space and humming softly. Dr Franklin glanced sideways at the imposing black man.
"Just who was this L.A. After reviewing the records you brought with her this is... well, brilliant applied medicine. The blending of drugs to obtain unorthodox results. After seeing these I can recognise the genius of it. I doubt many highly skilled doctors would even recognise the combinations and dosages as ultimately being responsible, even in this twisted manner. Not to mention the subtle hypnotic suggestions. If you hadn't found that CD I would not have even considered it. This person was brilliant but almost certainly insane."
It seemed as though he would not get an answer until, in an almost whisper...
" Luciana Alvi, nee Boucher, born May 1962 in Somerset England. Bright, intelligent, gifted. Studied at and obtained degrees, from Oxford, Edinburgh, The Sorbonne and Bologna. While completing there, she met Professor Joseph Alvi the famous plastic surgeon and interned under him. She became his right hand and in house counsellor. Excelling at the Psychiatric and practical cosmetic sides of the practice. They married in '94. In '98 he turned the practice over to her and entered politics. A rising star. Then in 2000 he was kidnapped. A pretty standard ransom, pay-off deal. But the local carabinieri chief was not happy with his cut and decided to play hero. The professor died in the 'rescue' attempt. Apparently, the surviving Dr Alvi received a visit a few days prior to the funeral, a local 'boss'. He apologised and explained the entire operation and how it should have gone. The good police chief vanished for 2 weeks shortly thereafter. He was found lying naked on the bonnet of his car, minus his genitals and tongue. He is quite well if you ignore the fact he was neutered and rendered mute. He has not, ah, spoken of it to anyone. Dr Alvi practices in five different countries and consults in dozens of hospitals and clinics. Private and otherwise. She is quite brilliant and very personable I believe. She is also a cold and calculating monster. A very clever one, we have virtually nothing. There are dozens... ah, never mind. What about..."
He nodded at the glass and the figure beyond.
Dr Franklin shook himself slightly. The brief story had brought memories of headlines and professional meetings. He had in fact met both the Professor and his lovely wife. She was charming and beautiful and now evidently... unethical didn't begin to cover it. Probably quite mad as well. He sighed deeply.
"Ah yes, your former colleague. Well physically 'she' is fine. Mentally, well I suppose a disassociation from the current reality to protect the core, would be the simplest explanation. When the pain and horror of a given existence becomes too much the mind pulls back into a protective shell. 'She' needs a focal point of previous happiness to begin the road back. From what you tell me Ms Collins is a very capable individual. Mentally and physically tough. If someone or something can connect to the core personality... well given a bit of time the prognosis is quite good." He shrugged gently and sighed again.
Bec almost broke down as she looked through the glass at what her lover and fiancé had become. The tall, attractive, but damaged woman was Peter. The shock had brought a gasp and near faint as Captain Williams, the big black man she had met before, stopped her from collapsing. She had been told days earlier what had happened and had thought she was prepared. But the physical reality was... took a deep breath and opened the door.
Petra had a dreamy smile on her face as the door swung open. It was the pretty blonde girl. But she was dressed differently. That lovely dress she always wore was now jeans and a t-shirt. She still looked sad, was actually crying and her hands were shaking.
The tears ran down her face as Bec looked into her lovers eyes. They were the same, if glassy and brittle looking. She searched for recognition and saw only a slightly puzzled frown.
"Pe... um, Petra is it? I'm Rebecca, Bec, may I sit?"
"Petra... no, I don't think I like Petra..... What happened to your dress? You always wear that lovely dress."
She turned back to the glass to gain a toehold on reality and think. 'What dress?' The voice was a shock as was the up close presence of sexual female. How could this be Peter? And yet the eyes...
"Bec? Yes... but you... " Her face tightened in thought as she tried to connect a stray idea to...
"Oh... you brought a friend."
Bec glanced quickly about the room. No one else was here and the door was still closed. Pete... 'she', was looking fixedly at a point at the end of the bed. 'She' began to speak and Becs heart broke as sorrow and fear washed over her.
"Hello... Who are you? Have we met before somewhere, do I know you?"
Petra thought the tall brunette looked familiar as she sat cross-legged on the bed smiling at her, brown eyes sparkling with humour. There was something...
'Yes. We've met before, a long time ago. I'm your sister... Joanna. Your twin sister... remember.'
She sat staring at this woman, conscious of the pretty girl... Bec? Bec was looking at her. She seemed so sad. The brown haired woman leant forward and placed her hands on Petra's knees... no, not Petra, but... A shock of recognition washed her leaving her flushed and panting softly. Yes... her sister. It was her twin sister, but...
"You're my sister... but... you died. You were stillborn, 2 minutes before me. They thought... I would be too."
'Yes. That's right. So... listen to your big sister. You were Peter, but he has gone and cannot come back. So... I give you... my name. We will live on as Joanna Louise Collins, or at least you will. You need to join them now. We will meet again. But for now, you must live... Joanna, be strong and live. Or big sister will be angry.' She smiled even wider and looked into her own eyes, her little sisters eyes and saw the glassiness start to fade. As it did... so did she.
Bec looked on in terror at this one sided conversation, 'Joanna... sister... oh god... he... she was mad'. She started to sob and slumped onto the bed, looked up several minutes later expecting to see the same glassy eyed vacant stare, resigned to the loss. But was instead met with Pete's soft, warm brown gaze. A look of love she thought gone forever. Trembling, she reached and clasped the hand that reached to her.
"Pete??"
Those eyes crinkled at the corners, which brought a louder sob. But the hand clenched tighter, squeezed gently.
"No Bec (tears trickled from each eye) not... Pete. Pete is gone and can't come back. But I had a twin sister who... She died in childbirth, a few minutes before I was born. Her name was Joanna Louise and she... is now me, or I am her. So, J-o-a-n-n-a. I hate Petra. She is a mindless bimbo. Nice enough, but stupid. Joanna will do... nicely. Jo even, if you like." She smiled at Bec and held her arms open wide. The core looked solid on the surface, but if Bec cringed or pulled back that core would crumple like a sand castle hit by a wave.
With a half sob, half laugh Bec slumped forward into those arms. Both women were crying silently, tears running down their faces.
Behind the glass Dr Franklin turned to wipe a tear from his eye and caught the reflection of Captain Williams unmoving form as tears ran unchecked down his otherwise emotionless dark brown face.
9.
Bec was tense and Sabina could sense her unease. The sound registered on her ears long before Bec noticed and she was out the door and barking at the strange vehicle and the person that emerged. The other waved as Bec came into view and backed away leaving the woman and 3 suitcases on the path. The person walked closer and Sabina growled and braced. The figure stopped and seemed upset, unsure, water ran down its face. Then the growl stopped, Sabina cocked her head and whined softly, stepped stiff legged, closer, sensing. She circled the person and leant in closer. Seemingly puzzled by contradictory messages. Then with a sudden yip she jumped paws resting on hips and stretching began licking at any exposed skin. Joanna leant forward and had her makeup ruined in seconds as the soft warm tongue lapped and tasted. Dropped and spun happily, barking and jumped and licked again. Tail wagging almost frenetically.
Joanna stood and looked at her home. Bec. Sabina. Emotion swirled and rose then crashed to the rocks below. A soft warm day, her dress crisp and light, matching sandals with a low heel, no hose. Careful makeup now ruined, at least her nails were perfect. Hair neatly styled and a light spray of Givenchy. 'Appearance was important', but...she felt good and yet. Fear had washed her as Sabina confronted the seeming stranger then a wave of relief and joy as she was recognised. Sabina danced and trotted in circles glancing between the two humans.
Bec stood on the verandah and felt a blend of joy and fear, as Joanna looked her way. 'What did she do now?' She had been given an outline by Dr... Franklin, that's right. It was felt that little was to be gained by keeping 'her' 'locked up'. That recovery was more likely in familiar and comfortable surroundings. She had been warned that mood swings were likely and deep depression a possibility. Phone advice was available 24 hrs and intervention in a half hour if needed. Indeed, daily phone updates on her observations were desirable, no mandatory, to head off possible crises. Before they became emergencies.
She needed to be vigilant, but just her presence and support was the main thing to bring Joanna toward normal. He had pointedly asked if she could be physically close to the new 'woman' after their past and now lost relationship. Could she be a lover to the person Joanna was now. If not they had to know. She had stared, indignant and swore that yes she could and would... but now. Doubts assailed her. Was she up to the task of confidant and friend or... lover? She had never thought of love or sex in partnership with a woman. But now... could she hug, kiss... make love with this... person. Did she know this woman? Would Joanna want to be with her or did she want men? How much of Pete remained after what she had been told had been done to him? It was almost a year... She closed her eyes and took a deep breath, opened them and limped down the stairs to hug the tall, nervous looking woman, standing in the driveway.
Joanna stood and watched as the pretty girl... no, it was Bec. As Bec came toward her, looking nervous and she didn't look her best thanks to that dog ruining her makeup. Sabina, it was Sabina, the dogs name, her dog, her home... her...She, he, it, what, who...
Bec... she closed her eyes and shook her head gently trying to clear her thoughts. Memories washed and floated like wispy clouds on a breezy day. Any shapes that became visible and solid shifted and changed as she tried to focus.
She needed a mirror, must look a mess. Shivered and opened her eyes as Bec hugged her tight and she gently returned it, not quite sure what to do.
"Welcome home... Joanna. We, um, Sabina and I did our best to keep everything ready for you. It's just as you left, well except for the bedroom, I've... been staying here. Um, I moved my things to the spare room. Thought you might... need some time to..."
"Sshh. Yes. I do need to... I am, um, not myself..."
She actually chuckled at that, shook her head as her mind wandered again. Bec...
"Bec, thank you for being here. This, ah, can't be easy for you and I... I need a little bit of time to settle my thoughts and stop them wandering. Dr Franklin said it would take from a few days to several weeks. If you are uncomfortable around me at the moment, I understand..."
Her thoughts started to drift as she mentally shook herself again and concentrated. Bec was looking at her sadly
"Sorry, drifted again there. Bec I don't know... anything at the moment. Who or what I am even. I would love you to stay, but I understand if..."
"Oh, Joanna. Can I call you Jo, please?"
That brought a small crooked smile that was so Pete she almost cried.
"Sure Bec, please do. It's, um, confusing isn't it?"
"Confusing? No, not confusing...just, I see bits of Pete and I think how horrible and yet. You look great, just not... Not who you were and I wonder about... everything. What might have been and what might be. It is hard, but I can't begin to know what you..."
Her voice trailed off as she sobbed once and bit her lip.
Joanna reached out a hand, which hung there for several seconds as they looked at each other. Then slowly, tentatively, Bec reached out and grasped it firmly. They turned, headed up the steps and inside as Sabina trotted from the heels of one to the other and then dashed inside ahead of both.
She sat, smoothed her dress and crossed her legs as Bec made coffee. They chatted like two old gal friends that had just discovered one was sleeping with the others boyfriend and neither was sure just how much to make of it. The conversation stopped as Joanna turned slightly as at a noise of some sort. Placed her cup and fluidly rose, walked out the door and returned with 2 cases. Placed them in the bedroom and repeated the trip this time with one. Took a pouch into the bathroom and emerged some minutes later, freshly and immaculately made up. Then sat and smiling resumed the conversation as though no interruption had occurred.
Bec watched and tried to understand. It was like meeting a formerly wild girl friend that had been shipped off to finishing school and was now, at least superficially, the perfect lady. As the near truth of that struck home she began shivering and then sobbed aloud, "Oh God..." as tears ran down her face.
Joanna started slightly at the soft exclamation. As she watched, Bec could see through her tears the brittle fixedness return to Jo's face as she sat unmoving and erect as though afraid to show a laxness of posture and then suddenly the whole façade crumpled as sobs erupted and wracked the tall woman. But still she retained her erect posture.
Sabina jerked upright and tried to sense what was wrong, crept close and nudged one and then the other. Getting no response she retreated about 10 feet and lay head on paws with her eyes flicking back and forth, her ears erect and alert as she tried to understand how she had failed, what was wrong.
Each sat with their own thoughts and mentally wandered down whatever pathways their thoughts took. The distance of a few paces seemingly an ocean wide. Eventually they shifted and took turns quietly settling and straightening and then retreated to individual bedrooms as Sabina settled herself on the lounge to guard, alert to the slightest sound.
The next few days were uncomfortable. Almost like a friend trying to be there for a recovering mastectomy patient. As one tried to deal with the mixed shame, fear and guilt as the reality of disfigurement settled and the other tried to behave 'normally', give support and thank God it wasn't her.
Contradictions as personal demons whispered and fought little internal battles. The outcome of which always seemed uncertain. Tentatively they began to renew a friendship, each wondering if it could survive and if so was anything more desirable or even possible.
10.
The routine had gradually established itself over several days, each taking turns at preparing meals or cleaning up. Joanna frequently took long walks with Sabina and began to relax, slowly sought a new balance both mentally and physically. Early morning runs followed by a repeated, gradually more fluid, jo kata and another similar, but two sided, defence and then attack sword kata with the hard pine bokken. Then a fluid freestyle full speed 'fight' and a gentle wind down followed by a period of meditation. She sat 40 paces from the back verandah just letting the universe flow over and through her. The large flat rock overhung the gully and afforded a view down to the creek below. Trees, birdsong and a misty blue light, filtered by the whispering eucalypts.
Bec had her first attack of nerves and near panic as Jo had come in from one such session. Sweaty and intently focused she had gone round the house gathering the four concealed pistols and proceeded to strip, adjust and clean them. Finally, satisfied, she returned them to their hiding places. Bec remembered when Pete had shown her where they were and explained about spring tension in the magazine being the major cause of jamming. Had shown her how to clean and fire the Sig two twenty nine that the agency favoured. Laughed as he frowned at others fondness for the plastic Glock. She hadn't known what a glock was at the time.
She hadn't given the guns a thought and knew she couldn't just move and hide them now. Jo would know and would guess why. She debated mentioning it in her check in call, but eventually said and did nothing.
The sudden crack of a shot one morning caused a stab of fear. She had rushed to the backdoor not sure what she would see. To find Jo standing in a classic firing posture both hands cupping the pistol, left foot forward as she aimed and fired again at the large knot on the old eucalypt about 30 feet beyond the rock. She had watched as Jo had gradually loosened up and began to shift and pace before spinning and sending another round into the tree. The first dozen had been off and sometimes missed completely. Gradually she loosened up and the shots centred in. By the third ten round magazine each shot was within the blackened centre of the knot, roughly a 3 inch circle.
It was 3 days later when a knock at the door found Bec face to face again with Justin Williams, the smooth black face emphasising the white of his smile. Jo and Sabina were out on a run as she sipped coffee in the kitchen. She smiled at his cheerful greeting and after a brief hug invited him in, glancing curiously at the bag he carried at his side. After the initial greetings and general how were things had passed he had begun to probe her thoughts on Jo's general outlook and recovery. Explaining that she had called him a few days ago with a request for some ammunition and 2 holsters. A standard hip and the shoulder harness modified to accommodate a woman's bust. He had grinned, slightly embarrassed, as he mentioned it was not a request he had ever expected to receive. They chatted peaceably once he had been more or less reassured about Jo's mental state and sat sipping coffee until Jo and Sabina had returned and joined them.
It was almost funny. A bit like watching a child whose attention was drawn to the packages under the Christmas tree as Jo had tried to maintain a conversation but her eyes would drift to the bag and snap back guiltily. Eventually Justin had boomed a laugh and slapped the table, which caused Sabina to jump and bark, necessitating an apology.
"Come on then, lets open your present Joanna and show me what you got."
They had drifted outside. Bec and Sabina staying on the verandah as Justin, carrying the bag, and Jo with one of her Sigs headed down to the rock. The next few minutes was cause for much mutual embarrassment as Jo had slipped on the shoulder harness and then with Justin's help had adjusted the straps to obtain the correct positioning. Something neither of them had ever envisaged doing with each other. The nervous fumbling might have been comical in other circumstances. Justin had then stepped back and watched with a very critical eye as Jo drew and fired, gradually gaining in speed until it was a fluid easy motion with another round into the black knot hole. Smooth and accurate. He nodded to himself, turned and walked up to Bec, gave a quick kiss, bade farewell quietly and left with a silent wave.
11.
Weeks drifted by as the mutual discomfort slowly dissipated and they got to know one another again. Jo slowly began to regain her natural fitness and with the exercise and physical integration her mental unease slowly lessened.
There had been one dark afternoon when she had picked up her guitar for the first time in... ages. Had tried to finger some chords and stretch her fingers. Stopped almost immediately and stared at her slightly long and perfectly shaped and polished nails for several minutes. Stood and returned the guitar to its stand, slowly walked back to the verandah and sat staring into space for over an hour until Bec had coaxed her in to eat. That night the guitar had been put back in its case and placed in the corner by the wardrobe.
After a couple of months they made a trip into town together. The first time Jo had done so. Of course the rumour had got around about 'him' having a sex change and the two of them living out there together. Bec had struck some animosity on her trips in. Some of the stories that confronted her were, amazingly imaginative, but for the most part people just shrugged and treated her much the same as ever. Would that change this time she wondered.
With the exception of a few terse, 'your kind' remarks and a lot of not so subtle curiosity things went as normal. Jo had been very tense at first but gradually relaxed and answered a few 'polite' questions with the modified 'true' story they had agreed on. After all who would believe the truth. Better they think she had wanted this and was happy. The interaction with people that knew 'Pete' gave her a new appreciation regarding the reality of perceptions and a new respect for anyone that did this willingly. Something she had not thought much about in the past. Basic truths of personality and self were generally taken for granted. You had to respect anyone willing or perhaps having to shake that tree and see what fell out.
And that train of thought brought the beginning of acceptance, not quite peace, but close. Maybe that would come.
12.
A few days later they had been sitting side by side on the small lounge on the verandah, peacefully watching the day fade. Sabina was stretched out nearby occasionally glancing across to make sure she wasn't missing anything.
After some time Joanna became aware of a slight tension in Bec and cocked her head to the side.
"Are you ok Bec? You seem a little tense all of a sudden."
The question seemed to poke a nerve as the smaller woman stiffened and then very deliberately relaxed. Jo kept her peace and waited for Bec to say whatever was on her mind. After perhaps 2 minutes she turned to Jo and with a rueful smile pulled out a small red box from the pocket of her light cotton jacket and held it out.
Jo paled as she realized what it was. She hadn't thought of it in over a year. Presumed it to be lost along with what it represented.
Bec cleared her throat and spoke nervously, explaining how Justin had handed it to her in hospital when they had first met after the 'accident'. It had been found lying on the footpath and handed to one of the officers that first arrived. She wordlessly placed it in Jo's open right hand and placed the left on it and both Bec's hands resting on top.
" I kept that as a talisman for months, waiting for your return so you could place it on my finger. Then, when I got word about... you being found and what had happened I put it away and tried to forget. The last couple of months I have tried to work out my feelings and what I want, plus what you might feel now. Maybe need, that I may not be able or willing to provide."
She took a deep breath and clenched her hands on Jo's as her mouth went dry.
" I have tossed this around and looked at it from every direction I can. But when I just let my thoughts go I come back to one thing. I ask myself, what is the most important thing in the world? And the answer is, to look into the eyes of the one you love and have them look back and say, 'I love you', and mean it. Once you're there everything else can be worked out. I love you Joanna Louise Collins. Please look at the engraving in there, I had it changed a little."
Trembling slightly and with tears in her eyes making reading difficult, Jo opened the small box and lifting the ring read the inscription, 'Bec love forever Jo'. With shaking hands she placed it back in the box and tried to regain her suddenly lost emotional balance. Then another shock presented itself as Bec dropped to one knee and clasping Jo's hands with her left held a small blue box out to her with a whispered...
"I love you Joanna, please marry me."
Joanna was trembling as she took and opened the box to see a fine plaited triple gold ring with an inscription on the flattened inner surface, ' Jo love forever Bec'. With tears running down her face she realised she was holding her breath. She took a deep one to settle herself and looked into Bec's eyes to see the fear and love mixed on her face. She switched her gaze from one eye to the other and slowly calmed her rampant thoughts. It took maybe a minute for the calm to settle but she thought it must seem like hours to Bec. Jo smiled wryly at this unexpected role reversal. Bec looked terrified as Jo gripped her hands gently.
"Rebecca Jane Adams, it would be my greatest wish and a privilege to marry you. It's just possible there might be a few, ah, legal challenges to overcome, but yes, I will. I do love you."
It was almost amusing to see the slight slump of relief as Bec realised she had said yes. They were both crying gently as the rings were placed on fingers and Sabina licked and butted at them both, knowing something had happened and sensing it was good.
They sat all three pressed together on the lounge as the sun set and the fire faded spectacularly from the sky. Peaceful silence broken only once as Joanna stared into the middle distance and darkly whispered a single word.
"Luciana".
With a slight shiver, the spell broken, they released each other and stretched. Time to go inside, it was getting cool.
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Stage fright? Are you kidding? Yeah... I know I can do it, but can 'she' do it and cut it instead of him? Let's see what real people think eh.
I've been a bit absent for a while, whole buncha reasons, but there's a glimmer of light on the horizon so I feel able to sit and scribble. Sunday afternoon, sun's a shining and the weather is Fine... This sort of follows after 'Busking' but is not exactly a sequel. Just a spiritual follow on if you will. Read that if you're interested but it is by no means essential. I hope a few think this is okay
This is a work of adult fiction. No resemblance to reality should be inferred or expected.
Copyright KLS 2012.
~Sydney Australia in the recent past~
Ah, so the practising the playing the planning and yes the spending of a bit of hard won. Damn, it comes to this... can you do what you do and be you or do you have to go elsewhere and try something different? Some question.
"So you. Yeah, it comes to this... Miss...or is that Mizz, hah, yeah I reckon Mizz suits better, I missed the Miss thing by an accident of birth so yeah, Ms it is. Wonder if I can get away with a single name, yeah me and Beyonce, Nuh, I don't think so, I suspect we diverge politically just a smidge. Hmmm, so I guess it's time to see if image trumps ability. Hell I already know the answer to that one. Question is can I make a go even allowing for the 'not quite cute enough'. "
Mirrors really don't do well as sounding boards in case you were wondering. Apart from... was it Snow White, they have a tendency to be very close mouthed buggers. Or Bitches maybe, do mirrors do gender? A fantasy philosophy question, jeezuss you are crazy.
A wave of regret and sadness washed through like a wave, as time lost and chances blown and anger and pain mixed with a chill of fear. The shiver shook me loose and I looked again at that mirror. The old scraped and chipped frame found in a demolition recycle place that 'he' had wandered into one lonely Saturday afternoon.
Lost and alone and trying to get a life together in a small flat with nothing but a bit of gear and a bean bag. Not for the first time the question as to whether the pub job picking up glasses would survive the advent of 'her' wandered in and squatted like an Occupy protester.
Then if this night worked maybe 'she' could get a few gigs and it wouldn't matter. Shit, yeah and if you were a sexy sixteen year old bean pole that could sorta sing you might take what people offered and believe what they said. And who was more screwed? Damn you are being philosophical this evening.
Still one thing about Op shopping for furniture, you learn what a bit of sandpaper and glue can manage. A nice little cafe setting type dining thing. Two chairs and a round table. A bed frame with some new castors... shame about the old futon mattress, but lumps were liveable, stains minimal and she weren't no princess to worry about bleedin' peas.
Yeah 'she'. Stop doing the 'he' thing. You've blown years and lost time and if you don't the fear and regrets will kill you, so suck it up princess. Hah, yep me and Mary Donaldson, doubt some bugger with a black Amex is gonna take me away from all this. Christ he'd probably be some psycho macho prick with a horse that did nothing but bite and shit everywhere. Holy crap girl you do have a weird mind, gender fundamentalists meet the Princess bride. Damn.
So where were we? Oh yeah. Open Mic. The one major regret was the loss of the old Tele. Sold to finance a bunch of stuff and even if it was the holy grail player type instrument and to hell with the snotty collectors, I mean seriously was any old bolt together guitar worth fifty grand no matter who played it? Not bloody likely.
That still hurt, but on the bright side it financed a few purchases and some clothes and things bought online. Australia might be a wonderful place but it really lacked in niche business. Not enough bodies, economies of scale and all that. So clothes that had some style and really fit a long body were few and far between. Yeah you can get by most of the time, separates and careful selections where sizing is not critical and sometimes even 'guy' stuff where it was suitably unisex.
I might not be the most girly girl type but I do like stuff that fits right and looks good and at least makes a statement about who I am. Not that my forays into the wide world thus far have mattered really. But time waits for no girl or something, so this is it kid.
What's that bloody Bowie song... Ch Ch Changes... yeah well, not really, but then I'm in here. It's the other buggers looking on you have to worry about isn't it. Sure, they might be strangers and it doesn't matter, but if you have to live and survive and... well just be.. in the world outside the door yeah it does bloody matter.
Sigh of relief that long fit cute little leather jacket from that pommy website had turned up and.... it actually fit and looked pretty darn cool. The little ankle boots from the US were fine too. Hey the Gods must be smiling or something. That nice soft royal blue jersey dress a friend had donated should do nicely. Scoop neck and the calf hem, a nice plaited black belt suitably hinting of girly rock chick, and then she does Gershwin. Huh, Alannah Myles or was it Melissa Etheridge, Somebody give me some water.. with a pinch of black velvet, whoo hah. Maybe that scarf with the subtle stripes and hint of glitter, yep that'll work. Tights or bare... and jewellery? Decisions decisions.
But.... I wanted the Tele back. Yeah right, no way was that gonna happen. Gone and refitted with vintage bits and painted and sold at triple the price as gen-you -ine one-nine-six-four Fender Tele-caster with a B-yoo-tea-full refinish in the O-rig-ee-nal blonde translucent finish. Look at that oak grain. Shit. You don't know what you've lost till it 's gone... oh hell you don't, but needs must or some crap.
So you read and ponder and try to learn and wonder, can I do that? Put a guitar together from parts. Okay it won't be the 'One' but at least you can with a bit of care and effort get close. Well close-ish. Near enough's good enough right? Ummm. Sigh, it will have to be.
Light? Yep that's dear, One piece Sthn Swamp Ash with nice grain and vintage spec. Wonder do they have trained gators to go out and fetch the logs? Weird mind alright. Matching neck. Assorted parts to fit the style and look. Hey I have the pick ups so that's a saving...cough. Soldering iron? Hell I know I have one somewhere.
Talk to the nice man in the paint shop. Danish oil with some stuff called terrabine mixed in to aid drying time. Get Cabots the luthier guy suggested, so I did. Took the recommendations off the website forum where there were a lot of suitably nutty but nice guys mostly to offer advice and opinions. The opinions were sometimes a bit eye rolling but then the world was like that wasn't it.
Paint, dry, sand and repeat. Took a week hanging on the balcony by a coat hanger hook. A dozen coats and only a few little hairs and marks to growl at. Sorry, I meant pout at.
Drill neck holes, gulp. Phew... is that straight?? Oh thank God. Tuner screws. Oh Fuck it all to hell!! You little bastard screws..... oops, sorry. Shit that maple is tough stuff. Now what did I read about snapped screws? Ah, okay. Mini plug cutter from a piece of brass tube, Hobby shop off cut and some wood filler.
Oh thank you God... hmm, you and I need to talk one of these, but thanks all the same. I was not a happy bunny there for a while. Not even visible. Then maybe it was just the assembled knowledge on an internet forum, the old been there done that, mysticism be damned. We still need to bloody talk though. What's your number again? Hey I try not to burn bridges okay. I mean I might want to play nice in about fifty years so I don't piss on the old spiritual thing out of hand. Pragmatism thy name is woman or maybe that's just me. Oh sure.
Took a few weeks but all good, strung up more or less where desired but I don't have the tools or the skill. So local guitar repair guy to cut the nut and dress the frets. A decent but cheap soft case and a bit of a fiddle with the intonation and I know why Leo changed from a butt end to head stock truss adjust. That pull the pickguard thing is a pain in the bum, but it does look cooler. Over a few days.... ahhh, that's not bad. Might not be a lived in oldie but it'll do. Besides if I bomb this..... well suffice to say minimal investment is good. It was a fun challenge anyway. Girl power.. ya dopey shit.
Oh fucking hell. If my hands tighten up anymore I won't be able open the car door let alone play. Well assuming I don't get laughed off before I even get there. Okay then ya dozey cow, lets do this.
The car was parked in a hopefully safe spot. Puppy gave me a look as I climbed out and I opened the door to give her a chuck under the chin and kiss on the nose. Oops sorry pup, vintage plum is not right. Wet finger wipe. Oh holy hell, do butterflies come in condor size?
Check the gaps in the window, quick scan, nothing visible worth stealing. Fluffy kiddie might even deter if they didn't look at her face and know she was a teddy bear. Sigh, get on with it. Grab the bag. Huh, gotta get used to that one. Matching too, now don't roll the eyes girl, this shit matters.
Guitar shoulder sling and the gear bag with Street cube and stand and mics. Keep it simple but good and have your own stuff.
" Wish me luck Bub, won't be long, promise." She'll be right for a couple of hours.
Puppy grinned at me and then settled as I turned away. She didn't give a crap what my name was and that had helped me stay alive.
The girl doing sign ins smiled and looked me up and down. I'd wimped out slightly and driven a bit across town to the Marlborough in Newtown, a bit of a gay centric area, lots of female type gay persons and a general bohemian feel. But still enough regular types to give you an idea of the wider world reaction, albeit slanted by inner city trendiness and University diversity.
"Oh Hi... yeah that's me there. Umm, how long?"
"Hey Kristina, looking good girl. You're number four of six so about half an hour. That's number one about to kick off. You need anything at all? Got your own stuff by the look but there's an amp there and a CD MP3 hook up if you need it. "
She was looking me up and down appraisingly and didn't seem put off.
"No, I'm good thanks, got a little Amp, Guitar and stand with Mic so all self contained, thanks." I tried to be cool and nonchalant, but I suspect I fell short just a touch. The stammer might have given me away. Nervous? Nah.
She reached out and touched my arm in a friendly, hey relax, way.
"Don't worry, even real shit acts don't get too stomped on here at these things. I some how doubt you'll be shit so don't sweat it huh. Wednesday nights are pretty mellow and who knows, you may just get a following. Lanky chicks like you do okay, but might depend how you swing." She grinned and laughed mouthing a 'relax' as she turned at a call from the bar. I missed the name.
Ever noticed how a long glass of lemonade lime and bitters is dry as all shit and not very long at all when you're nervous as hell and trying not to look or think or notice anything. Dumb or what, but you had to be there or something.
Then over the PA, my mate from earlier calls... " Right then Peoples, we have a lovely lanky lady called Kristina up next. She's doing a solo to a nice old classic and I know she's a little nervous so give her a hand as she sets up and then I have a feeling we're gonna enjoy. Come on up girl."
Oh Fuck. But I did manage to walk across and not stumble. Took a moment as a whistle or two and some applause wafted about to set the little amp and the settings. The stand adjusted and hook up the sennheiser, check the cable and plug in. Strum a couple and another adjust, switch to the neck pick up and tone down a pinch. Hum into the mic to check the levels. Okay. Then I look out and there's people looking at me and I'm on a little stage and yeah okay I've been here before but 'I've' never been 'here' before.
"Haven't figured out yet what you got there honey but play us something eh and we'll see" A female voice from the back, loud and with a touch of what are you mixed in. Or maybe that's just what I heard. There was a ripple of laughter and a bit of jeering but nothing heavy. My throat didn't go completely dry.
"Well... ah... I guess to some extent what you see is what you get. I've done this before but I haven't exactly done this before. So I'm a little nervous, I hope you like this. It's a version of the old Gershwin thing Summertime and even if Sydney hasn't dished up a Summer so far maybe this will help huh."
There was a whistle or two and some applause as I strummed a few gentle chords and did a bit of humming to the melody.
" Hey I don't care what you got, buy me drink huh and hum me to sleep after." Some guy called from the right side of the room. He was grinning so I let it flow.
"Nah, that's not how it works hon, you buy me a drink then I decide if you're gonna buy me dinner and then maybe I'll hum to you later."
There were cheers and Oh Yeahs from the girls in the place and the guy laughed and raised his glass. "fuckin mercenary bitches, fifty fifty then?" The whole place laughed and I was suddenly relaxed, the tension was gone and my hands moved smoothly.
The intro chords and picking flowed...... " Summer- time... and the livin is easy.... fish are jumpin'..... and the cotton is hi---gh..... " it flowed just as it should and my voice was smooth and the pitch was good and... just maybe.....
Whistles and cheers and applause. The woman in the back called out... " Fuck girl I don't care what ya got under that dress, I'll buy ya a drink." That got the cheers up a notch and my boy friend from earlier chimed in, "Hey wait your turn, she might be straight." That got another round of cheers and applause.
My lady friend at the back called again, " Hey Tina, she got time for another?"
The lady that checked me in nodded to some more applause. Yeah okay they were a fun crowd and a little pissed and having a laugh, but damn it felt good to me.
Things went quiet as attention turned my way. " Oh, okay I hadn't planned more than one but something I guess... well it's Feb so coming up on this one so a reminder to the SO's out there, treat your girl right eh. Bit of old style romance never hurt anyone."
I suddenly had a blank and strummed aimlessly hoping for divine intervention, yeah okay God I shouldn't mock, so just give huh. Don't be a bastard.
I laughed at myself then and there it was, " this is for the lovers out there...." some gentle fingerpicking and semi smooth jazz styling.... "My funny Valentine.... Sweet comic Valentine...... You make me smile......... " It flowed nicely and felt great and got a nice round of gentle applause and some more whistles as the closing notes trailed off.
"So then red, which way you swing then boys or girls? Does he buy you a drink or do I?" My lady friend at the back called as my boyfriend stood and straightened his shirt. There was gentle laughter and some cheerful betting.
I turned back to the mic, .."ah well I have a girl waiting for me..." the whistles and cheers drowned out any response so my boy bowed to the fates and my lady raised her glass and cheered.
Just as I finished packing my gear Tina wandered up and said, " Not bad girl, we have your number so if you fancy a show some night, as long as you can do three forties over a three hour you can come back. Call me tomorrow okay."
I looked up and thought frantically, oh shit, can I do this, will my voice work... Oh crap..... " Okay thanks, I'll call you tomorrow"... I looked around the room and smiled... "Yeah... might be fun."
Tina nodded and headed away with a smile, making a note on her clip board.
Oh yeah...... I stuffed the gear in the back and opened the car door so she could jump out and bounce about, maybe have a pee. "Hah, ya big kid..."
I danced slowly and sung quietly to myself as she relieved herself on the grass verge... "Somebody bring me some water, Can't you see I'm burning alive. Can't you see my baby's got another lover.... Oh dear, wouldn't the guys at the pub be disappointed. Hey Bub, ya miss me, I had a great time, let's go home huh."
The tail waggled frantically and she leapt into the back seat as I reopened the door. Had to get a lick or three as she stood on the front seat before jumping in the back as I slid in laughing.
Hey, full moon, Creedence anyone.... ? Nah tonight was too good for bad moons.
Comments, questions or criticisms welcome. Just be Polite eh.
People Are Complicated
by Kristina L.S.
This is my first effort, with a few minor tweaks. Some of you may have seen it at FM some months back. For those that haven't...
The follow up will be posted in a few days.
His wife's infidelity forces a young man to re-evaluate his life. A gentle tale of self realisation.
This is a work of adult fiction. No resemblance to reality should be inferred or expected. That said I don't think it's too far out there. However you be the judge. Copyright KLS 2005.
People are Complicated
By Kristina.L.S
1: Introduction
I was sitting there waiting for the receptionist to call me. Eighteen years old straight out of school with a lousy final grading, nervous as hell. I wanted this job.
Not that I was a dummy or anything. Up until high school I was up near the top of my class and had been called on a few times to read to the younger kids when the teacher needed to leave the room for a while. I'd enjoyed it too. There had been a few occasions when I didn't quite mesh with the world around me. But I guess most people feel that from time to time.
Things changed when I got to High School. I just couldn't fit the mould, got distracted, daydreamed and generally didn't try very hard. Due to a bit of drama in the first few months I got a rep as being Gay; but not a snitch. So for the next few years I was virtually friendless. Then in my final year I fell in with a couple of girls who treated me as a friend. This made a noticeable difference in my general attitude and things started to improve, socially and academically.
Then came the 'accident'. In Hospital for 2 months, missed the exams. Once I was discharged I had to sit them while still sick and weak. Bombed badly. Schools out, my parents moved interstate and I was on my own in a crummy little flat rapidly running out of the 2 grand they'd given me before leaving. I think I disappointed them.
"Mr Williams, Mrs Johnson will see you now." Well here goes nothing.
" Andrew good to see you. Please have a seat."
"Thanks Mrs Johnson"
"So young man, you would like to work for me would you? That is, for The Johnson Agency. You will find I'm very hands-on. I take an interest in everyone that works here, professionally and personally. So even a raw kid straight out of school has a chance to improve themselves through dedication and a willingness to help out when needed."
There was silence for a few seconds as we looked at each other.
"Your final grades are rather poor, yet you seem an intelligent young man. Would you care to explain that?"
With minimal details I gave her an outline of my inability to adjust to high school, then how the accident had disrupted my final year just as I was getting things together. "Hmm I see. What do you know about this Agency?"
I went on to give a run down of what I had researched. "Ah, the agency was started by your husband Graham Johnson and his partner Bill Adams. Adams & Johnson was born. Um, this new ad agency gradually became well known and respected within the industry. Then with you, Mrs Johnson, guiding the proposal, the two partners agreed to diversify into a full, one stop shop. Covering all the stages from creative concept, through marketing then on to production of the finished campaign. Ah, if and as required you would sub-contract any and all models or other outside personnel."
"Umm, you then went on to organize the purchase and renovation of two turn of the century houses set side by side on a combined 1.6 acres of ground and connected to each other by a covered walkway. These houses, or offices slash studios I should say, became known as the East and West wings. East being production and design, housing all the arty types. The West being home to the management, sales and legal side, all the good wardrobes in other words."
I was briefly interrupted here by a sharp muffled laugh. At a gesture I continued.
"Umm, shortly after that with everything looking pretty rosy, both the main partners were killed in a plane crash, sorry ma'am. Following this disaster a major downturn occurred. What with legal wrangling and business manoeuvring the Agency was in trouble but you pulled things together and took full control. You held most of your existing accounts and gradually pulled ahead again."
" So that brings us roughly up to date. Ah, sorry if I missed anything significant. So just 5 years later the Johnson Agency is back up top with me looking to come in at the bottom of the East wing as a junior whatever."
She looked at me for a couple of seconds then laughed and said, "I see you've done your homework. That's a pretty good summary of the Agency history. It must have taken a bit of effort to find all that. There may be hope for you yet. You're references are O'k, but don't really sing do they. I see your doing the communications diploma at night."
"Yes ma'am, I'll be done in 3 years. It will be tough. But having this job would sure help... (Another laugh) ...I'm willing to do whatever needs doing to get my foot in the door."
"Well young Andrew I have another to meet yet. But you have managed to impress me so there is a good chance." She paused for a moment giving me a long steady look. " Hmmm, Ok then. I will be in touch by the end of the week Andrew, one way or the other. Thank you for coming in."
" No thank you for seeing me and hopefully employing me."
Another laugh. "I'll be in touch."
As I went past the receptionist smiled and said, " You got her to laugh which is a good sign, good luck." I thanked her and left.
Tuesday morning at The Johnson Agency.
"Frank?"
"Yes Mrs J. "
" I have two job applications that need vetting, nothing too serious, just a basic background...Yes pick up the files from Helen this afternoon. ...Thursday would be fine.... thanks Frank see you then.. .. about 2? .. good."
Thursday afternoon.
" Hello Frank, come in. How did you go? Anything interesting on our two lads?"
"Nothing out of the ordinary on Simmons, pretty much as described. Williams however..."
"What, he seemed perfect?"
" Well, I suppose that depends on what you want to make of it"... he handed her the file and pointed to a paragraph half way down. She read for a moment then went through it again, then looked up..."I see. Interesting. Still, not enough to ruin his future by my standards."
" Just thought I should point it out. Seems like a nice kid that's had it pretty tough. Your decision though."
"Hmmm, yes, thanks Frank. I think he'll do." Frank smiled, nodded and left.
Friday morning the phone rang at quarter past nine. "Hello?"
"Andrew Williams?"
"Yes speaking."
" Andrew its Gale Johnson here. I'm pleased to offer you the position with us. Could you be here at my office 8.30 Monday, we have a busy week. I will show you around and introduce you, then you hit the ground running, Ok?"
"Yes ma'am, that's great thank you, I'll see you then."
"Andrew, please call me Gale, ma'am sounds so old."
"Yes ma'.... Gale, thank you. I'll see you Monday."
For the next 3 years I worked my butt off days and nights. Got to know the business, especially the creative side. Got my diploma. Got promoted steadily. Made friends with most of the people here, with a couple of exceptions. Then met Kate. She was gorgeous, smart and tough as they come. Straight out of law school with top marks and at the age of twenty-three already handling 50% of the legal stuff for the Agency. Damn I was impressed.
Despite everyone thinking we were total opposites we got on famously. Six months later we were married. I got promoted again to head of the East wing. Life was looking good.
2: Revelations
"Andrew, Kate, thanks for coming to my little end of year do."
"Our pleasure Gale, we wouldn't miss one of your parties for anything." She smiled and kissed us both on the cheek and invited us through.
Gales end of year parties were legendary. Held at her house on the hill looking across the valley just north of the city. Ocean visible to the east and the city to the south it was a mansion that took 20 people full time to maintain. She always said it was too big for 1 'old' woman to rattle around in on her own, so the staff gave her a little company. Five of them lived in. It had been Grahams dream home so she stayed rather than sell up. At forty-three she was hardly old and looked great.
We mingled, nibbled and sipped champers. The whole crew, with assorted partners were here. With business associates, band and caterers that meant about 300 people. Not a bad little get together. We smiled at each other then separated to mix.
About forty minutes later, holding an empty glass, I'm not much of a drinker, I headed to the kitchen to refill and find Kate. It was almost sit down time.
Refilled my glass. Bollinger Grande Annee, nice. Then I heard Joanne from sales voice. She's a friend of Kate, but I have to admit to being a little disapproving. She had a reputation, which she cherished, as a real man-eater. Still she was nice enough.
"... so Katherine dear, how's married life treating you a year or so down the road. Still sticking with that wimp of a husband after comparing what, 6,7 seriously masculine contenders over the last few months. I'm sure he's a nice guy and all ... but seriously, after John and Bill there how can you compare. Be honest now... against those 2 alone, any comparison?"
" God you know how good those two are.... in a purely get down and dirty physical sense... no comparison at all. Then there's Tim from legal at Thompsons'... hmmm .... unbelievable!....still..."
I froze. Everything stopped.... My wife had just admitted multiple affairs. With guys from work and other companies we dealt with. I headed back through the kitchen, grabbing a bottle of vodka on the way. Totally unaware of the tears running down my face, I headed back out, getting a couple of odd looks that barely registered. Then headed around by the pool grabbed a bench and started drinking. It was half a bottle later that I registered someone was standing beside me. Gale looked at me for a moment, then sat beside me. She put an arm around my shoulders and wiped my face as she took the bottle. Setting it beside her she looked closely at my face...
" I've never seen you drunk before. It really doesn't suit you Andy. Tell me what happened." After staring into the middle distance for a couple of minutes I did. She sighed, then helped me back inside to the kitchen. Two coffees later and feeling vaguely like living, we headed back to the party. Half way there I slipped and fell to one knee, then threw up on the tiles. Kate came running and Gale suggested she get me home and not to worry about anything here.
"Are you sure you're Ok Andy, you don't have to sleep here. I'll keep you warm in our bed..."
"No Kate thanks, if I have to get up to the bathroom I don't want you awake all night too. The world is still revolving slowly like one of those animations of distant galaxies but I'll be fine, really."
She gave me a worried look..."What happened? I've never seen you drunk before, you had me worried when you fell with Gale."
" Just stupid, you know I don't drink champagne much. What with no lunch it just hit me. Sorry to ruin your night as well."
She looked concerned and felt my forehead..."You know I don't care about that as long as you're OK."
" I'll be fine, you go to bed. I'll sit up for a bit to make sure I 'can' lie down when I want to ", this said with a rueful smile. She smiled back, said 'Ok see you in the morning' then after a quick kiss went next door to the main bedroom. I lay there on the bed feeling awful for about 20 minutes till the light went off in our bedroom. Then I grabbed a pad and pen and started writing.
I packed for about a week. My clothes were in this room as the main closet was overrun with Kate's clothes. Propped the note against the toaster. Then headed for the garage.
Kate roused slightly as she heard the garage door open, Andy's car back out, then the door shutting. She frowned, glanced at the clock... 2am. Mumbling to herself..." Hope he's not still drunk enough to get pulled over... Probably going for Chinese... he hasn't eaten all night." She sighed, then went back to sleep.
I drove to the beach and walked and thought for hours. Then sat waiting for the sun to come up.
Kate was up at six and got ready for her run. Poking her head into the spare room she frowned at the made up and empty bed. Heading downstairs she checked the garage, Andy's car was not there. She was getting worried as she headed back to the kitchen. Spotting the note she smiled to herself. Typical she thought beat me up and out, probably wants to meet for coffee and act contrite but superior. Laughing she reached for the note..." Oh God!".... as she collapsed into a kitchen chair. Tears started to run as she read.
"Dear Kate. Sorry I couldn't face you this morning. I've packed enough for a week or so. I'll buy extra, as I need. Last night you asked what happened just before going to bed. Well, I walked into a conversation between you and Jo just as you were discussing my merits as a husband versus several other men. Seems I don't come up too well in the stud department.
It felt like I'd been stabbed in the guts, I do know what that feels like by the way, by the person I loved and trusted the most. You have no idea how much that hurt. Then I grabbed a bottle and proceeded to drink, hoping to erase things. Didn't work.
I'm moving to a motel or something to think for a while. See you at work on Monday, I wont tell anyone what's happened.
We'll talk in a week or so, when I've had a chance to sort my head out.
Love Andrew
"Oh Christ what have I done." Her run forgotten Kate sobbed at the kitchen table tears staining the note.
After thinking for about an hour Kate grabbed the phone..." Hello Gale, it's Katherine Williams...ummm... that's why I'm ringing... yes.... could I come up and have a word.... Thanks see you in about 45. "
".... so you see he left this note and I think I've blown the best thing I've ever had for the sake of a few tumbles with macho studs that I don't, for the most part, like very much!" the self disgust she felt was evident to Gale who was watching her closely.
"Kate you have fucked up badly. I'm very annoyed with you." Gale got up and began to pace back and forth in front of Kate as she watched the older woman like a rabbit caught in a spot light.
" I found Andy last night out near the pool after a couple of people told me he looked a mess as he left the house" ...taking a deep breath Gale continued..."he was sitting on a bench by the pool working his way through a bottle of vodka. You know how little he drinks. That's how upset he was. I got the bottle form him pretty easily. Getting him to tell me why was a bit harder. But he did.... I like Andy a lot. He was a kid when he walked in here straight out of school five years ago, living in a dump of a flat because his parents had basically disowned him and moved interstate. I don't think he had a friend in the world. But he had a brain and impressed me. I think he's probably one of the nicest guys I know, period. Everyone here at the agency, well, the east wing anyway, would kill for him." Pausing she waved the coffee pot, Kate shook her head mouthing "No Thanks"
Taking another breath Gale continued, "He is worth his weight in gold to the agency, therefore to me. I don't want him messed up. Damn!" she paced some more.
"Do you understand the reference to knowing what it feels like to be stabbed in the guts? "
"No I don't. He's never said anything like that before" Kate looked miserable.
So she bloody well should, thought Gale.
"I didn't even know about his life before here, I thought his parents were dead. Will you tell me? " Obviously upset Kate started crying quietly.
Gale looked at her hard for a second, then sighed and sat beside her. "He is a very generous man. It is not my story to tell. I only know because I did a standard background check before employing him. The same as I do for everyone." Kate looked up eyes wide with an un-asked question.
"Yes you too. Anyway my investigator found something he thought interesting about Andy's last year at school. The accident that cost him 2 months in hospital and screwed his chances of a decent mark was not an accident." Surprised Kate went to speak. Raising her hand Gale said," No sorry, you'll have to ask him. Its not mine to tell."
She paced some more then said," What It would mean to you I'm not sure. I've never told him I know. I think it would embarrass him, perhaps hurt him unnecessarily."
Frowning, Gale sat sipping coffee silently for a minute. Then looking at Kate,
" Katherine you're a smart girl and I respect you for what you do. I hope you two can work this out. But don't make me choose sides, you may not like where that goes."
"No Gale. I know I do good work for you, but if it came down to a, him or me, I know where that would fall. I'd think exactly the same. There are plenty of decent lawyers out there. But there are not too many people that could handle Andy's job. I don't think there's even anyone internally you could promote without a lot of work."
"I'm glad you understand that. I have no desire to loose either of you. So please work this out if you can. Short of a major blow up both your jobs are safe, OK?"
Smiling ruefully Kate placed her cup on the table nodded and said 'thanks Gale' as she left.
3: Repercussions
Weeks went by, then one month, then two.
Andy's thoughts had been running wild. Circular arguments bouncing around never stopping or reaching an answer.
"Christ ... I need help." Looking up his old diary he found the number and dialled. " Hi ... yes ... my names Andy Williams... no not the singer I think he's dead.... Ummm well I haven't seen the doc for about 5 years... Yes that's me...5.30 Wednesday, great thanks."
For the next month he saw Doc Overton 3 times a week.
"So Andy are you clearer about your future now. I know this is hard but you're tough. Still plenty young enough to create a life from where you are. At a guess I'd say Gale would support you 100%."
"You know Mrs Johnson"
" Oh yes for a long time." He paused, thinking for a moment, then continued.
"What exactly your wife will make of this I don't know. But from what you've told me you have a pretty good chance of at least maintaining a good relationship, even if a divorce features in the not too distant future. She's a smart woman, whom you believe loves you, despite your supposed shortcomings as a man. I have no evidence about that either way, as we've never met. This will probably hurt her a great deal; but love may find a way." Smiling he glanced at his patient and saw the indecision and fear on his face.
"Whatever happens you owe her an explanation. Secrets like this do no one any good over time. They just poison any possible goodwill. Please be honest with yourself and with her. What happens will happen. Yes I know, easily said. But still true. People are complicated they never cease to surprise me. You must be true to yourself before you can be any good for others. That is on a personal level at any rate. Take a little time to order your thoughts. Then sit down together. Good luck. You have all the necessary referrals. I'll be here as needed. See you in week or two."
To say I was nervous is a gross understatement. I hadn't spoken to Kate for nearly three months except for some basic work related stuff. All at work. This was going to be tough.
It was just after 7.30, I figured Kate would have finished dinner by the time I knocked on the door.
I took a long look as she stood there not sure what to say or do. She looked tired and... what, sad and maybe a little afraid. I smiled a lop sided smile, "Can I come in Kate?"
"Oh... umm... sorry, please, it is still your home too."
I handed her a bottle of the soft Italian red that we both liked, "I thought we could talk over a glass if you've nothing else planned."
"No. No nothing, have you eaten. There's some there if you'd like?" She looked at me hopefully...for answers or a distraction of some sort?
" No thanks Kate I've eaten earlier; please..." as I waved the bottle at her.
"Oh yes... sorry, just be a moment." As she went into the kitchen I looked about. Everything looked pretty much the same, just slightly neglected. I felt guilty at that. I'd just left, 3 months ago and she didn't know if or when I was coming back.
" Here you go", as she sat the bottle with two glasses on the coffee table, poured and sat back with her legs tucked under her. I smiled at that totally natural gesture and relaxed a little myself.
" So...", we both started at once.
" No you go..." we both started again. Laughing we both sat back then.
"Ok Kate, we both know what's happened up to now. But despite the hurt you caused me that night I don't really blame you."
"What... " she started.
"No wait, please let me finish. You cheated on me", she winced at that but nodded,"... and that hurt like you wouldn't believe."
" Oh I think I would," she muttered... "...these last couple of months...not fun."
"No I bet. I'm sorry about that. I need to explain why I just didn't front you then and there. Have a good screaming match and sort it out on the spot. Quite apart from airing our dirty laundry in public; in front of all our work colleagues no less, part of me understood and accepted what you'd done." She looked puzzled at that.
"How could you... unless....?" She suddenly looked upset.
" No Kate it's not that. I've never cheated on you." She slumped back looking sad and hurt.
"Kate look I have never been the jock slash stud. At five nine you stand an inch taller. Wearing heels you tower over me. It never mattered to me, but obviously at some level bothered you." She started to object...but I held up my hand in a stop gesture.
"Kate please think about it, I believe you do love me in a way, but perhaps not quite enough. I am in some way not quite man enough for you." She squirmed in her seat at that and took a big sip of wine.
" You may have subconsciously picked up on a part of me that is well hidden. But we have been pretty close for the last eighteen months, so... "
"What are you saying ... are you gay?"
"No Kate, I'm not gay ...exactly."
"What does that mean?" Kate was crying now and looked a little angry.
I took a deep breath. " Do you recall in the note I left you. About being stabbed."
She nodded... " Yes. I realized I knew almost nothing about you before we met. I thought your parents were dead."
I started at that.... "How...?"
"Gale knows about whatever happened. She does background checks. She knew your life story before she hired you."
I was just a little surprised at that and Kate noticed, sat back and waited for me to gather my thoughts.
"Ah... sorry Kate that threw me a little. Anyway, back in school I was a skinny little kid. First year: 3 months in, my best friend and I were singled out as faggots. There was no real reason. We spent a lot of time together, had known each other since the age of four. Our birthdays were a week apart. Anyway we were teased, taunted, shoved; hit and kicked occasionally and generally treated like dirt for two months. He couldn't handle it. He cracked at home one night and spilled his guts to his parents. They rang mine who knew nothing. When I confirmed his story they were shocked. Why didn't I say anything? ... Anyway that destroyed our friendship. I spent the next five years pretty much alone, with a bit of hassling thrown in now and again. Then in final year a couple of months after my 17th a couple of girls got friendly. It seems they thought I was perfect to round out their trio. The three musketeers or something like that. Anyway I started going around with them, just as a friend. Then they wanted to dress me up as one of them. With not too much persuasion, I agreed."
I stopped for a minute for a sip of wine and to catch my breath. Kate was sitting back looking at me with a sad, wide-eyed expression.
"Okay where was I. We started going out as three girls. After a little initial nervousness I had a great time. Suddenly not just my two girlfriends thought of me as someone interesting. I went from being a total pariah to being desired, a heady mix. Three months before the final exams we were at a local club having a good time. I went outside to get a breath of air when I was grabbed from behind.
'You little bastard gay faggot.... Your going to die you scum...' I remember that very clearly. They beat and kicked me to the ground. Three, I think. Then one rolled me onto my back. My vision was blurred, slight concussion. Then he said slowly... '...die you piece of shit', and pushed a knife into my belly. I can still feel the slow burn as it went in, then a cold spreading outward from that point. I passed out. Apparently one of my friends came out and found me there in the car park. I woke up two weeks later, minus a couple of feet of bowel including my appendix. Yes that's the scar on my right stomach. I was there for 9 weeks before they released me. Nearly died from septicaemia and almost lost my right kidney, it got nicked by the knife.
Big scandal. High school transvestite stabbed in lovers spat. Hah... The cops didn't look too hard. No one was arrested. I was generally considered a disgrace. Banished to the outlands as it were. As soon as possible after my eighteenth birthday my parents handed me 2 grand and took off interstate. I don't know where exactly. So here we are."
I took a long slow breath in and out a sip of wine then looked directly at Kate. She was weeping openly with compassion mingling with anger rolling across her face.
Before Kate could gather her thoughts I continued. "Kate you should know that part of the reason it's been 3 months since the party is that I've been seeing a psychiatrist. The same one I saw five years ago. With his help I've resolved my identity crisis. In short; I, um, I ... I can't be your husband anymore, because I've decided to undergo gender reassignment to live as a woman."
Stunned she just stared at me with her mouth open.
"So you see why I can understand that you would need to seek something outside our marriage. You may very well love me. I know I love you a great deal. But you like men and I'm just not quite man enough." Then under my breath "...people are complicated. Shit!"
It hit me then, I put my glass down wrapped my arms around myself and started sobbing quietly. Blinded by tears I didn't see Kate move, just felt her as she sat beside me, wrapped her arms around me. Crying also but saying, "Shush baby, shush, it's all right my love. It'll be all right. We'll work it out."
4: Resolution
I moved back home, initially to the spare room, then at Kate's insistence back to our bed in the main room. "God I've missed you."
"Likewise..." I said with a slight smile on my face. With tears in both our eyes we settled into sleep.
The medical, slash, legal process to get me to where I was going, plodded along. I told Gale and she offered her full support. After about three months I began to look a little more femme. Hair was longer and softer, as was my skin. Electrolysis was just about finished. Thank god my beard was light.
I talked it over with Kate then with Gale and agreed that I would announce to the assembled masses in the east wing, everyone else would know in about 20 seconds, my intention to begin dressing next week as a woman in the lead up to Reassignment surgery in about 12 months.
Kate and I, once I got past my nervousness, spent the weekend shopping for clothes etc for me. 4 grand later I was all decked out. For now, said Kate.
Phew... couldn't do that too often.
Over the previous month Kate and Andrea (yeah that's me) had gone out several times. She coached me. Cajoled me and generally helped me along. We became in one sense closer than ever. But apart from a bit of kiss and cuddle, no sex.
Feeling reasonably comfortable about things on Monday afternoon I called Jenny, my secretary, friend and personal lifesaver in. "Jenny I consider you a friend and I need your help."
She smiled and nodded as if to say, 'yeah ok, I know already, get on with it'. Slightly flustered I continued as she chuckled at my discomfort.
" Umm... anyway I have to make an announcement to the gang here this week. When is everybody likely to be here?"
Without pause she smiled and said, "Everything's set up for Wednesday morning 9.30."
Seriously flustered now I blushed bright red, then said, "Ah thanks Jen. I suppose you know more about this than I do."
" Oh I doubt that. But you're a good boss, so I try to look out for you. I've noticed the last couple of months or so touches of makeup and polish. Ears pierced. Softer more feminine look overall. Your good to work for as a man, I'm sure you'll be just as nice, maybe nicer as a woman."
" Nicer...? " I said with raised eyebrow.
"Sure you seem to be more at ease lately, less stressed. I figure you've taken a load off with the decision to go with this. So yes.... Nicer I think."
"Ah... Ok thanks you're a sweetheart. Anyway... Ah... next Monday you start to work for Andrea officially...."
" Cool..." she kissed me on the cheek as she left. Blushing, but with a big smile on my face I went back to work.
Boy did that week drag. The big announcement went over with hardly a raised eyebrow, let alone any drama. Anyone that wanted to discuss anything with me was welcome to drop in to my office anytime. Two of the girls did just that, straight away too. Just hugs and kisses.
" Hey I'm still your boss!"
"Oh pooh. Welcome to the club hon. You'll make a cute girl.... boss." I scowled as they scuttled out laughing. Then laughed myself and called out "Thanks guys."
"Your welcome..." chorused back across the office. Every one else just nodded or gave the thumbs up sign.
Even Phil the house photog just said in his laconic way, "No worries ... uhh ...Andrea everything will be sweet." I blushed again at that which got a general laugh from everyone close.
The weekend came with another, though less intense, shopping trip. Which included the works at the local salon. Wax job (legs bikini brows underarms), nails, facial, massage and hair. Overall very nice I could get used to that.
Kate laughed and said, " Lovely isn't it, wait till you see the bill though." She was right, that took the wind out a little, but only a little.
Kate and I went to the beach, late Saturday after any crowd had left and wandered arm in arm along the sand. " You know Kate..." I started...
" Shush", she said. We walked a little further. Then, "Um... you know Andy" then laughed, "Sorry; Andrea.... No I guess Andie is still fine isn't it. Still works for Andrea."
" Yep. No one can hear the spelling." I said with a smile.
"You know..." then laughed shaking her head. "Some vocabulary, 5 years at law school and still can't come up with a fresh opening to a sentence, sheesh. Anyway, you know, I think you're nicer this way. As a girl, I mean. You seem more comfortable with yourself. Which makes everyone around you more relaxed as well. Including me."
" You're not the first to comment."
"Jen?" she asked smiling.
"Jen." I confirmed.
We walked along some in silence. "You know.... Arrrgh! Ummm, I haven't had sex since the ahh... Gales party. First it was guilt and you being gone. Then oh, I don't know, it didn't seem important. How about you? What do you think; men, or women still?"
"Jesus Kate! I don't know. I haven't really thought about it. To be honest I can't see myself bar hopping with you and Jo. Much as I'm curious about the whole business from the opposite side so to speak. It will be months yet before it's more than a moot point. Even then I have no intention of rushing out to check out the new equipment."
"Yeah. Sorry I didn't mean to make you uncomfortable. It's just with you starting to look so girly. Umm. Do you still find me attractive?"
I stopped dead, totally floored. Kate stopped a couple of paces further when she realized I wasn't beside her.
Then regaining my composure,"... I never thought of it as something you might consider. I know you like men and though the idea of lesbian sex doesn't disgust you, it's not something you want either. I thought."
"Hey you, you are my husband, well sort of, I do still love you. So I wondered if you wanted to try."
"What right now, with me wearing makeup and a dress. Here in the sand dunes."
" Sure why not. No time like the present. A little bit of wicked never hurt." She walked up close, pressed herself against me. Cupped my bum in her hands then with a wicked smile kissed me hard on the lips.
With a slight moan I melted against her. She carefully lowered us both to the sand never breaking the kiss. After a minute or maybe an hour. Who knows? Kate broke contact. Then looking deep into my eyes she kissed me again. I jumped as I felt her hand brush my left nipple. She pulled back for a second, looked at me with a smile then continued. The feelings she aroused in me were heavenly. Jolts of pleasure shot from my nipples to my groin and all over. For the first time in about 2 months I had an erection. Kate took control and made love to me. It was beautiful and loving. The first time in months we'd been even remotely this close.
" Well how was that?" she asked with a grin, looking at me while propped on one elbow in the sand. I just lay there on my back with a smile on my face.
Blowing out with a slight tear in my eye, I replied. "Kate I don't think I've ever felt closer to you. That felt amazing."
With a twinkle in her eye she kissed me again, "Yep, definitely a lesbian." then laughed and flopped to her back next to me.
" How about you Kate, how did that feel? I know it's not the complete les experience... but...ummm ...well?"
" Nice, probably not enough to give up men for." she said with a grin, "But it is you and I do love you. So maybe we can keep things together when it becomes necessary to dissolve our marriage officially. I'm not looking forward to that you know"
"No. Me either but it's the law, no way round it."
"Yeah I know. Intellectually I understand it. It's just emotionally I have a little trouble..."
"Oh hell Kate I'm sorry to do this to you."
As the tears started, Kate hugged me saying "Hey it's alright you need this for your emotional sanity. As I've said before. We'll work it out."
"But what if we can't. You like men and I'm not sure I can face you going off with some guy while I'm in the same house. It may not be fair but there it is. I'm sorry."
Taking a deep breath Kate looked at me, kissed me then said, "Well you always were honest. We'll just have to see how it goes. Won't we lover? Come on let's get home."
5: Progression
Monday morning I was a nervous wreck. Gale greeted me from my office with a bunch of flowers. "Welcome Andrea, good to meet you at last." With a kiss on the cheek she smiled shook my hands gently with both of hers then headed back to her office.
" Thanks Gale I appreciate it." She smiled and waved as she headed out. With a general round of applause I was greeted to the office. Then blushing deeply said "...thanks everyone, back to work Huh."
A moment later as I got settled Jen walked in with a soft whistle. "Damn I knew you'd look good. A skirt suit and heels huh. Trying to raise the tone here are you. I'll have to start dressing up. Can't have my former male boss showing me up. Wouldn't be right."
"Thanks Jen, but your making me blush again, so back to work eh." She laughed waggled her fingers at me and headed out.
The week flew by. With a few minor disasters that we managed to pull back I didn't have time to worry about things. Using the mirror to touch up my makeup seemed completely natural and apart from a couple of slightly amused smiles, no comment was made. The time just flowed by, everything pretty much as normal. The only glitch in my composure came from two of the guys in sales. Yep you guessed it. John and Bill both saw fit to compare rather pointedly.' ...Kate is one hot piece of arse. How the hell can she stay with that pathetic little sissy boy? Jesus he was useless as a man. As a woman... god ... not worth a look. Should be put out of his misery. Let her get on with a real man. ...' , you get the gist.
I heard later that Kate blew her stack very publicly at that. "How could I have ever been so stupid as to look for something worthwhile in either of you? God, the sweetest most decent human being I have ever met both loves and believes in me. And I betrayed him. With you pieces of shit! Christ I should be shot for that. You're not worth the spit off Andy's old shoes. I'm ashamed of myself for even thinking there was something worthwhile in either of you! Andrea is a better man than either of you could ever be!"
She stormed out of the west wing and paced the garden for about a half hour before she was cool enough to get back to work.
Gale called her in, when she came back inside. " Feel better," she asked with a grin.
" Sorry Gale that was unprofessional. But hell, those two got to me."
"Quite alright my dear. I understand. I'll sort those two out later believe me" and her grin turned feral. "Now, how are things between you two these days."
" Well not bad actually. We pretty much understand each other. There is still love surprisingly. I'm not sure I deserve her. Nothing is set in stone; we may still split when the time comes. That will be hard if it happens and I know I'll be the villain there again. But should it happen it will be friendly, although very sad."
"Well I'm glad that at least there will be no bad blood. I don't want to lose either of you. Please treat her gently. This is a very hard thing for anyone to go through. I'll help if I can."
"Thanks Gale you're a peach."
As the week came to an end I started to feel down. Friday as everyone gradually left was worse. When I was alone I just sat at my desk and started to cry. Suddenly a pair of arms wrapped around my shoulders from behind, "Hey what's up
gorgeous, no crying you'll wreck your complexion." Jen whispered in my ear and handed me some tissues.
"Thanks Jen, sorry about that."
"No prob, but what brought this on, I thought the week went great?"
"Well as the week wound down and then this afternoon as everyone left I started feeling so alone. That I had to be insane, even to contemplate this. It's unnatural, perverted if you will. So what does that make me? At the very least screwed up."
"Well that's probably a discussion for your psychiatrist. But from where I sit you seem pretty well adjusted. A little too introspective sometimes but then nobody's perfect. From a work perspective, you handle people and situations better now. You're more at ease generally, so there's less potential conflict.
Not that that was a big deal before, just... well it's subtle." With a big smile she looked at me and said, "You're, well, nicer this way, told ya." Then she poked her tongue out at me, which got a cough like laugh. "Come on Boss. I'm meeting some friends at Buchananns, go fix your face and come with me."
"Umm, Ok Jen let me ring Kate, and then I'll get fixed and come. Oh and thanks again."
Jen looked at me again with a serious expression on her face. "What..?"
"It's what I said about you being nicer. We could never have had a conversation like this 4 months ago. You make a very attractive lady. If I were into girls you would be in trouble here, 'cause you're pushing all my buttons. So go get fixed up, I'll meet you in the car park", and with a peck on my cheek she headed out.
I sat there for a minute with a bemused expression on my face. Then with a mental shake, picked up the phone.
Buchananns is an upscale bar not too far from work. Jen was greeted by a group of about 10 people. A couple looked vaguely familiar. She introduced me then whispered in my ear, " Don't stress, I've told them roughly about you and they're cool. So relax Ok."
She handed me a glass of wine then started chatting with her friends. I found myself talking with a gorgeous blonde that I felt a tinkle of recognition for. "Umm... sorry but do I know you?"
She smiled and said, "Slightly, I did the last 3 shoots for Sabina Designs with you guys. I remember you quite well. Though you're looking a whole lot nicer today than I recall." This last was said with a wicked twinkle in her eye.
"Ah, well things have changed a little in the past few months." I shifted a little nervously.
She smiled softly and put her hand on top of mine, "Look my names Shelley if you didn't catch it before. I know all about you. I liked you as a guy, almost enough to turn straight for. But I heard you were married." With a shrug she continued, "So you don't bother me at all in that sense. I've worked with girls like you, so no biggie."
I'd recovered myself by now, so with a glint in my eye said, "...almost enough huh."
With a big smile on her face she responded, "Oh yeah. But you're much nicer now and if not a free agent yet, you soon will be. I can wait." She lent over and kissed me lightly on the lips. A slight electric jolt shot through me at that. "Besides I'd rather wait till your complete and settled in yourself. Doesn't do to rush these things." That got me blushing like you wouldn't believe. Shelley turned aside and started chatting to someone else. Jen caught my eye and raised her glass to me. I smiled and nodded back. It was a pleasant couple of hours.
As I excused myself to leave Shelley slipped up and handed me a card, " That's my number. When you're ready, give me a ring. We'll go out some night, no pressure. Just a get to know you. I'm unattached for the time being, so call me huh." With a one handed hug and a peck on the cheek she turned back to the group. Something to think on that's for sure.
The months flew by. Work was going well and I was pretty comfortable en femme now. Barely even thought about it most of the time. Kate was leaning against my car on the Friday night. "You know Gales big party is in two weeks. We need to go shopping. Got to get yourself organized girlfriend." This said with a chuckle and a gentle elbow to the ribs. With a soft kiss on the lips she continued, "I feel I still owe you for last year. So lets head out tomorrow and find you a dress. My treat."
"Kate you don't owe me anything. Last years debacle was more my fault for reacting as I did. So on that level we're square. Ok."
With arms crossed a stamp of one foot and a big pout "Well I don't quite see it like that. So I insist."
Laughing I surrendered, "Ok, tomorrow, thanks Kate."
Kate made a beeline for an exclusive boutique and dragged me behind her.
"I spotted the perfect thing for you the other day," turning to the assistant,
" could you get the dress held for Kate Williams please?"
It turned out to be an absolutely beautiful Colette Dinnigan navy silk and lace confection. When they saw it on me, both Kate and the assistant had big smiles on their faces, "We're not going to better that one hon. Trust me." And so it was.
Next were the shoes. After 4 attempts we found a pair of 3-inch strappy Sergio Rossi sandals that matched perfectly. "Well that was a success. I'm already sorted with basic black. The appointments are made at the salon for next Saturday at ten. So no partying Friday night, Ok."
Saturday morning as I emerged from the shower Kate was lying on the bed looking at me. "You've really blossomed in the last couple of months hon. What's your waist now?... 26...cute buns ...I'd say a full B up top. With that sandy auburn mop of yours, a really nice package. Almost makes me wish I was gay."
I don't think I've described Kate before, so: picture, athletic slim body, 5'9, C cup, great legs, thick shoulder length rich coffee dark brown hair. Face a slightly tougher Monica Belucci. An absolute stunner. Hmm must be a little bit of male left yet.
Kate smiling pulled me down on top of her, "Ah... Hon I can't really do anything anymore you know?"
" I'm sure you'll think of something." I did. About 40 minutes later Kate swatted me on the bum chuckling, " Definitely a lesbian, go on back to the shower you slut. We've only got an hour." Laughing I complied.
The party was a great success, helped greatly by the salon and my gorgeous outfit. John and Bill got frozen out, but their dates were separated and shown a good time. One of the best nights I've had, ever.
6: Conclusion
Over the next month or so everything started to come to a conclusion. I had my two Psychiatric assessments clearing me for surgery. The medical side, bar the final op was complete. That was booked for late March. Legally Kate and I were no longer husband and wife, although still living together. My one year RLT was almost up. Over several weeks and many bottles of soft red, Kate and I decided our future. She was to keep the house and I would find an apartment. We both had hols' booked for 3 days before and 3 plus weeks after my surgery. She would see me through this at home. Then we would split with a good deal of sadness but no bitterness.
I began a half-hearted search for somewhere to live. Then mid Feb found the perfect place. A nice two bed + sunroom w' balcony and bush view. Nice kitchen. En-suite and 2nd bathroom. 2 secure car spaces. Bright and airy. Perfect. All this in a nice block of 12. With a sigh and some regret I signed the lease. We both got a little weepy that night. Only two weeks before I moved out of our home for good. Well, barring a brief recuperative visit in March.
Andrea was by now fully established. My voice which had been a bit rough for a while, had now after a lot of practice settled into a nice sexy (so I was told by Jen and later Kate) contralto. A week before I was due to leave for surgery Jen presented me with a bottle of perfume. " I don't think you've sorted a personal scent out yet so try this one. I think it's you to a tee. Then you're joining us on Friday at Buchananns. Shelley keeps asking after you." This last added with a slight smirk. I wasn't quite sure how to respond to that.
Jen left smiling. I checked the bottle, Giorgio, dabbed a bit on my wrists and sniffed. Hmm.... not bad. Later as I walked by, "You've got nice taste Jen, I'll be there Friday. Thank you."
"Sure thing boss." With a big knowing smile.
I was more or less settled in my new place. Kate had helped with the expenses, furniture and such. It was a little lonely at night but starting to feel like home. Jen quietly told me one morning that Kate was dating. There was no hard edge to this as there might have been six months previous. I sent Kate half a dozen white roses with a note wishing her well. Several hours later Kate wandered in, walked up without saying a word, kissed me softly, then turned and walked out, with I think a tear in her eye. Wishful thinking perhaps.
Friday I was dressed in another suit and heels combo as Jen called them. Dark Rose suit, dark tan shoes and bag with a cream sleeveless, collarless blouse and silk finish nude hose. Not exactly risqué but hell I was still trying to come to grips with all this colour co-ordination. Then there was the makeup. Christ it was sure easier as a guy, but just maybe not as much fun.
Same basic group as before with maybe a couple of extras. Shelly's eyes sparkled when she spotted me. Jen gave me a playful swat on the bum," Go on, get re-acquainted then."
" Bleedin' liberties, you'll get yours missy." We were both laughing. Shelley walked straight up and kissed me full on the mouth. That little electric jolt struck again and I let out a very soft groan. She smiled like the Cheshire cat and drew me to the booth they had appropriated.
After a drink and some general get caught up chat round the gang Shelley neatly slid me into a neighbouring booth. "So only a few days to rebirth eh. Nervous, scared?"
"Sure a little of both, mixed with a big slice of anticipation. This lot hasn't really worked for months anyway." My vague downward gesture raised a grin.
"Look I really want to get to know you properly, would you be willing to skip this joint and have dinner somewhere. Just the two of us?" Shelley seemed for the first time slightly uncertain.
"Don't suppose you have somewhere booked do you?" I was playing a hunch that raised a blush, which made me laugh.
Jen glanced over at that, and then laughed as she caught Shelley's face. Jen gestured me close and whispered in my ear, "Shelley is really good people. I would never hook you up with anybody not worthwhile. As long as you're both honest there's a better than even chance. For both of you. She's been through a few disasters and after I mentioned your situation. Well she said she remembered you from the photo shoots we did. And that she liked you even as a guy. Which for her was a big admission. Anyway. Go for it and best of luck eh." With a thumbs up gesture to both of us she turned back to the gang.
We bade farewell with a wave, then headed a couple of blocks down, to a nice little Italian place with a rear open air bistro. As we were shown to our seats Shelley brushed her hand across my rear in a proprietary manner. As I raised an eyebrow at her she just blew me a kiss, which got a blush on my side.
" Ok we're even" I said with a grin. The rest of the meal went just as well. Lots of pleasant conversation, food, wine and more than a few laughs.
As we finished up Shelley announced, "My treat. If there's a next time you can get it. Ok." When I nodded she continued, "Would you like to come over to my place. It's three blocks over..." for the second time tonight she seemed a little nervous.
With a slight smile I said sure and linked arms. Then rolling my eyes, "Lead on my lady. I can't wait to see your etchings." That got another blush and a laugh as she led the way.
Shelley had a nice place, larger than mine as there had been up to four people living here but they had all moved on over time. It was done out in a gypsy caravan style of décor. Not sure that I could pull it off but it worked here. Made you feel right at home. Mind you the company helped. Two bottles of wine and four hours later we each had a rough outline of each other's lives to date and a slight buzz on.
Then Shelley leaned over and looking deep into my eyes kissed me hard on the mouth. That little frisson struck again, causing me to groan slightly. She pulled back and raised one eyebrow in question. When I explained, she beamed at me and kissed me again, while gently massaging my right breast. Some minutes later she led me by the hand to her bedroom. Gently stripping me to my underwear, while maintaining a wide-eyed gentle expression. Bra off she reached for my pants.
I took her hands and shook my head, "Not 'til...after. Ok." She smiled gently, stroked my cheek softly with the back of her fingers and then smiling, proceeded to strip slowly.
We made love for the next, ...well... hours. I fell asleep spooned into Shelley who hummed softly in my ear as I nodded off. The next morning was easy. Shelley was not a morning person. So I borrowed some sweats, pushed my hair into a scrunchie and headed down to a bakery I'd spotted on the way here last night. Armed with croissants and butter. I headed back. Shelley had coffee; I'd checked that before leaving. Warmed up the croissants and made the coffee. Plunged. Then headed back to the bedroom with a tray.
"Damn. If this is the treatment you give every morning, you can move in tomorrow. Nice outfit by the way."
After a pleasant breakfast, we shook the pastry out of the sheets and remade the bed. We talked easily for about an hour. Shelley lent me a dress and we walked down to the local markets. Browsed around and generally did the lazy Saturday thing. A few knowing looks came our way. Especially from one big West Indian, maybe Jamaican with a food stall. He gave us each a wrap of meat and vegetables with a rich chilli sauce and a "Shelleee me honn. Nice job dat one dere."
This, with a huge wink and crude gesture at me. We both cracked up at that and waving, walked away. "That was Jules. He fancies me. But cries out for me to find a 'nice girl' and settle down. He's outrageous, but great fun. These wraps of his are great by the way."
"Yes I know." I replied around a mouthful. We both laughed again and kept strolling.
We spent the rest of the day easily and pleasantly. Enjoying each other and the weather, which was mild and gentle.
Shelley dropped me home after a light dinner about 9. I gave her the cooks' tour; she acted impressed. Then went quiet. I stopped and waited for whatever she wanted to say.
" Um. Ahh. Andy. Andrea. I like you a lot. I liked Andrew and there aren't many guys I'd say that to. But Andrea is, well. Shit." She sat on the lounge. I sat as well but further down. After staring at her toes for several minutes, she took a deep breath. Looked over at me with tears in her eyes.
" You are just about my ideal girl. Smart, sexy, slightly submissive." This last said with a slight laugh. " You turn me on like you wouldn't believe. I find that just a little ah ...disconcerting. I know you have a dick. But hey nobodies perfect. I really want to get together with you and...um...I don't want to push too far. I have a habit of taking control. Some of my 'friends' find that a bit much at times. So..."
I shushed her there, "Shelley. I like you too. Ok. Jen's recommendation counts a lot. You haven't fallen short. I have no problem with a slightly bossy girlfriend. I was married to a lawyer. If you push too far I'll let you know. But I won't bite you to do it. I have to leave for hospital in 3 days. So you won't see me for a couple of weeks at least. Then I need to recover. I'm doing that at Kate's house. So in about 5 weeks we can get together and as long as you go gently ... I ah.. have it on good authority that chances are you're in there girl."
At that Shelley let out a whoop that buzzed my eardrums and jumped on me. After a big kiss she stood up and paced like the energizer bunny. " That's great Andrea I ahh ... I'll call you in about 40 days. Ok." She grabbed her bag and keys and headed for the door.
"Ah, Shelley. Andie is fine. Ok."
"Great call me Shel if you like." She jumped back and kissed me again, then bounded out the door humming. I stood for a minute with a silly smile on my face. Then with a mental shake started straightening up.
Surgery came and went without complication. If you're reading this I'm sure you know the general methodology. Kate was a great nurse come teddy bear. She was also greatly amused at my antics with the stent and wanted to know why it had to be that hard. 'Surely a nice rubber dildo of appropriate size would be better'. I said I'd ask next time. Which got a big laugh.
I met her current beau one night. This surprised me by only causing a slight stab. When she apologised I assured her it was fine "He seems like a nice guy."
I explained about Shelley, which got a big smile, "Yup, definitely a lesbian." I threw a lounge pillow at her. After two weeks it was time. With a big long hug and a few tears I headed back to my apartment.
Shelley called up about 4 days later. We hooked up for dinner a few times. The little frisson was still there. We got close. Talked about moving in together. I wasn't quite ready for that... yet. Still getting established as it were. We got keys to each others place and pledged one to one. As long as we were honest and trusted each other we'd be good, fine, maybe great.
Two weeks later I went back for the final little minor touch up. Forgot to ask Kate's question, too embarrassed, ah well. Got a green light for two weeks, 'but go easy'. When Shel and I finally hooked up for the big one; candle lit seduction, Diana Krall playing moody in the background, a few wines. Well it went really well. Make that fuckin' fan' bloody 'tastic. She said if she didn't know and apart from a slight lack of natural lube, she wouldn't know.
7: Epilogue
Six months. Shel and I are going great guns. Happy as Larry or some equally silly expression. Love, yeah could just be. No surgical complications.
Work is going really well. Jen teases me constantly. So I blow raspberries at her and generally behave like a juvenile idiot. Maybe it is Love.
Anyway work is good. Gale is happy with the whole gang. John and Bill both left and were replaced by a woman who bettered their combined sales within two months. She's nice too.
Joanne seems to have toned down a little.
Kate has been through a couple of guys, poor choice of words maybe, but assures me she's happy enough. Ah well hope springs eternal or something like that. I tell her she should try a threesome with Shel and me. Which gets a laugh. I don't think any of us really want to go there. So, that's the end of this little missive. Always seems bigger and longer when you put it down on 'paper'. It can run through your head in about a quarter of the time. Anyway life goes on.
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Hi there, second time around.
This is partly a continuation of the story; I've combined it with another idea that has been running around my head for a while. Relationships need understanding and effort. Ya' gotta talk... and listen. Is submission, weakness?
Both parts are self-contained but complement each other. It is probably better to read Pt 1 first as an introduction.
This one is atypical in that it gets somewhat kinkier than the first, but the existing characters seem to fit so... Don't worry its not too twisted.
This is a work of adult fiction. No resemblance to reality should be inferred or expected.
Copyright KLS 2006.
People are Complicated: Pt 2
By Kristina.L.S
1. Adjustments
"Heyyy.. hon. I'm home, did ya' miss me?" Shelley dropped her bag just inside the door and jumped on the lounge to give Andie a hug and kiss.
"Mmmm, yes I missed you. Why didn't you call I'd have picked you up."
"Naaa.. it was safer this way.."
"How do you figure?"
"Welll.. if you had picked me up I would have been forced to ravish you in the car. The potential for disaster would have been un-acceptably high. Not to mention the embarrassment of all those innocent bystanders that might find overt displays of same sex affection disturbing."
"Ok.. that sounds fair and reasonable... " Several minutes later, after some serious kissing, cuddling and general messing about with each others clothes.
" Damn Shel you look great. Two weeks sun and surf and calendar shooting sure seem to agree with you. You even smell beachy."
"That's just wishful thinking on your part babe. I haven't been near a beach in three days and I even showered in the meantime. Couldn't upset the cabin stewards or my best girl by coming home all sandy and smelly now could I?" This last with a laugh and tickle to the ribs.
"Ok it's probably just the tanned and relaxed look combined with whatever cocoa butter cream you've rubbed on. I am glad to see you though. This big apartment gets me lost at night. Maybe the ghosts object to me poaching on their turf. They want you all to themselves."
She swatted Andie with a lounge pillow then kissed her again hard and long.
"Mmmm you taste great. The ghosts probably like you better anyway. You're a nicer person than this snotty, bitchy model girlfriend you've hooked up with."
"Yeah you're probably right they do like me better and every one knows girls can't read maps..." Another swat with said pillow.
" Shit hon' it's only three bedrooms instead of two. You're not sorry you moved in are you?" she said with a worried frown.
"Relax Shel I am so glad to be with you it's not funny. I just needed the last six, eight months to sort myself out as my new individual self. Not everything has been peaches and cream these last few years but meeting you has been right up the top of the list."
"Andie, I love you more than I can possibly say. I know I can be a bossy bitch sometimes and can be my own worst enemy. That has blown more than one relationship in the past. Most people, especially guys, can't handle a 'dumb' blond model telling them how things should be ... "
" Shhsh.. you are a bossy bitch..." another hit with the pillow, " but you're not a dumb blonde. A model yes, but no-ones perfect, even if you look it. For your information I love you too. I certainly wouldn't be shacked up in your place, which you own, not paying any rent and generally playing the kept woman, my own job not withstanding if that wasn't the case."
"We've been through that. Your divorce, although amicable, cost you a lot. Kate kept the house which you were on your way to owning. I understand the reasoning but still you should have been up for a payout of some sort. Not to mention paying off that medical loan."
" Come on Shel you know how hard it was for Kate to lose her husband the way she did. I couldn't take any more from her and she did help set up my apartment that I no longer have thanks to the bossy bitch I'm in love with." Another swat with the pillow and an accepting chuckle.
"Are you sure you're happy here with me. I'm three years older, had relationships with a dozen different girls and guys. Mostly girls. And I'm a bossy bitch. You've only been with Kate and that as a guy. Then me. You don't want to play the field a bit, maybe try it with a guy?" Shelley now looked depressed and sad as though saying or thinking things can make them real. She was amazingly beautiful, confident and loving. But several destructive bouts with a cupid that had a perverse sense of humour had left her doubting her desirability beyond a quick fling. That coupled with some good old Catholic guilt about being gay kept her double guessing everything where relationships were concerned.
"Shelley please, trust yourself. Trust me. I'm the one that should be worried about honesty and feelings. A transsexual has limited possibilities for acceptance at the best of times. To find someone this quickly... who is beautiful, loving and understanding... well it means more than you can possibly realise. I am so glad to be with you, bossiness not withstanding, that I would be totally lost if you suddenly said you couldn't or didn't love me. I'm just mushy enough to need someone like you to hold me sometimes. So give us a hug cupcake and don't fret so much."
Several hours later. "It's times like this I think I should smoke ... Hell after the last couple of hours a bypass is on the cards anyway."
" Shelley, Shelley, Shelley. How many times do I have to tell you...?"
"Yeah, yeah, I know. I should get up early and go running with you. Yeechh. No thanks." They lay there together in companionable silence. Then Andies thoughts started drifting again.
"Ok Andie out with it. That's the third time in the last couple of hours that you've zoned out on me. I believe you, it isn't me. So give, maybe I can help."
As she slowly came to the here and now Shelley watched as she gathered the wool and knitted a turtle neck or two or three.
"Hmm. Oh, sorry Shel. No it's nothing to do with you..."
"Hey anything to do with you concerns me. So who do you want me to kill?"
Laughing ruefully she gathered her thoughts, " Sorry. It's just... Shit. Um. It's Kate. I'm worried about her. Since we split she's been going through the guys like there's no tomorrow. Even a couple of girls, if the rumours are true. I suspect she feels lost to some extent, in the house on her own. It is definitely nicer having someone to share with. Anyway I feel somewhat responsible for her situation. Eighteen months ago she was married and looking forward to life with maybe a kid or two down the track. Then bang, suddenly her husband turns into a girl and runs off with the first cute blonde he finds. Has to mess up your plans just a little eh?"
" The first cute blonde huh. Who were the others then?" She lightly tickled Andie, then sat back, "Have you talked to her. I mean she was your wife for a couple of years and you do love each other. That was always obvious. I guess that's partly why I'm a little defensive about me and us. You care, sometimes too much. But that's also partly why I love you. Plus she's gorgeous."
" No. That's just it. Every time I try to get together she makes some excuse. I even went to the house again the other night and she wasn't home. Since she left the agency and went into partnership with whatshisname she seems distant. From what I can gather she's raking in the money. But... I don't know ...she's not herself...It's as though she's trying to rich herself out of feeling for anyone and that hurts me. Especially if, as I believe, I'm partly to blame. Yes I still love her. I always will. To see her becoming some obsessed workaholic makes me sad. Even sadder, that she doesn't seem to want to talk to me anymore. I know remaining friends after a bust up is hard but we seemed to be fine... then suddenly a couple of months ago she just cut me out. Even when she changed jobs everything was Ok. Now ... I don't know." The thoughts started running around Andie's head bringing tears to her eyes.
Seeing her tear up Shelley reached over and wrapped Andie in a hug. "Hey come on. Kate's a big girl. She probably is feeling a little lost at the moment. Maybe even blaming you for a few things, rightly or wrongly. Would you like me to try talking to her? It wouldn't be so close talking to me, so I could try if you like. After all I'm not doing much for the next couple of weeks. I could front her at work and see if she's willing."
"Would you. That's nice of you to offer. After all it's not really your concern..."
"Hey don't start that again, what concerns you concerns me, Ok!"
That got a grin, "Thanks Shel I appreciate it. You're both bossy bitches so maybe it'll work. Dom to Dom eh?"
" You better believe it slave. Now roll over, cuddle up and let's get some sleep."
2. Regrets
"Good morning, may I help you?"
"I hope so. My name is Shelley McManus I was wondering if Kate Williams could see me at some stage. I don't have an appointment but she knows me."
"Just a moment ... Ms Williams there's a Shelley McManus asking to see you ... I don't know ... yes ok, I'll pass that on... Ms McManus, Ms Williams is tied up with a client for the next two hours. But said that she could meet you for lunch at 1. She suggested 'por favor' two blocks down if that would suit you?"
"That's fine, please tell her I'll meet her there."
"Shelley, how are you? Is Andie ok?"
"Hi Kate. Interesting place this. Mexican, Cambodian, Vietnamese and probably a bit of anything else you could name. Andie; well she's ok I guess. Except for being worried silly about you that is." The waitress showed them to a booth and both ordered a corona with lime. While they waited each sized the other up. When the drinks arrived they sipped and looked at each other.
"So Shelley, what can I do for you? Need representation?"
Smiling Shelley looked Kate up and down, "No Kate I'm fine in that department. You look tired. Still beautiful, but tired and Andie doesn't think it's work. Now having seen you for the first time in months I agree with her. What's wrong? Andie has told me everything about her life and most of what you two shared. She also gave me carte blanche to discuss anything with you if you were willing. Andie still loves you and always will so please don't feel threatened by me."
"Oh sure, the winner being magnanimous. Please."
"Kate, I don't want to fight with you. Andie is concerned that you are cutting her out and becoming a workaholic. We both love her. So when she asked if I would try where she had failed, I agreed. Apparently we're both bossy bitches so should understand one another."
With a snorted laugh Kate drew breath, "Sorry Shelley that was rude. I... um ... yes Andie's right. I am cutting her out. I'm a stupid slut that destroyed my marriage for a few cheap fucks. Caused Andie more pain than she ever deserved. Fucked up my own life in the process ...Shit. Lets eat." The order was taken. The food was eaten in near silence.
"Shelley, would you come back to the house with me. We can talk and get smashed. I'll blow off my afternoon appointment if you're free. Please?"
Shelley looked at the other woman. In the time she had known her Kate had never looked so vulnerable or unsure. Andie was right to be worried she thought. Something is definitely bothering her. Maybe after a couple of wines she'll talk.
"Sure Kate. I'll meet you there, my car's down the block." As Kate walked in the opposite direction talking on her phone Shelley pulled her own, " Andie, hi hon... yes just had a very quiet lunch ... yes something is definitely bothering her...we're going back to the house to get smashed... yeah I know might be a long one so don't wait up eh. ... hey I love you so no problem, one drunken afternoon with my lovers ex won't kill me. Might get some dirt on you ... yeah ... I know, talk to you later, bye."
During the drive over Shelley pondered on what was bothering Kate. Andie was involved to some extent she thought. But her instincts said there was something deeper going on.
"Thanks for coming Shelley. Come in please...Make yourself comfortable while I grab a bottle; red or white?"
"White please, red gets me dopey in the afternoon."
"White it is, back in a minute." While she waited Shelley looked around, expensive rugs on the floor, new LCD screen and sound system. A couple of flashy paintings that hadn't been there 3 months ago. Plenty of money being tossed about, but it seemed empty somehow.
" Here we go. Take a seat, please."
Both women sat and sipped a nice Sauv' Blanc.
Kate looked at Shelley. She could see why Andie fell for her. She was gorgeous but there was strength there, brains as well. After the way I treated him, her, she deserves someone like Shelley. She could take up the masculine edge that Andie could not. So perhaps she's right, we are both bossy bitches.
"So. Shelley I appreciate you coming to see me. I'm surprised you didn't slap my face when we met today." Shelley's eyebrow lifted at that.
" Andie didn't tell you did she ... About a month ago, you were out of town for the weekend. Andie came over for dinner. I was between lovers and at a loose end, so... anyway, I got drunk, as I seem to do a lot lately. Andie tried to get me talking. I tried to get her into bed. She refused and I threw her out. We've hardly spoken since. Not that she hasn't tried. I just can't..." Tears started to flow slowly then.
Shelley sipped as Kate cried quietly and tried to organise her thoughts.
"Kate please. We both love Andie. You are very important to her and I like you. So please talk to me. I won't tell Andie if you don't want me to, she'll understand. But please open up, if I can help I will. I assume it's not money. That leaves relationships or lack there of. From what you've said I guess quantity isn't the issue. So ...quality?" She filled her glass and sat back wriggled a little to settle the cushion and gazed expectantly at Kate.
Kate blinked at that, blew out and took in a deep breath. She wiped her eyes with the back of her hand and looked across at Shelley with a crooked smile.
"You have won you know. You didn't know you were fighting. And I didn't know I was losing, until I lost ... Did Andie tell you about the first time I seduced Andrea?"
"On the beach?"
"Yes, it was that night I started to really question myself. Andie had no idea what was going on with me. I'd just given her a lot to think about regarding being a woman. Meanwhile I was buzzing like a swarm of bees ... I'd just seduced a woman who was my husband and it felt so good to take charge of things the way I had. On top of that was the male slash female side of Andie plus that slight submissive streak she has... well it just got my head spinning."
Both women sipped quietly for a minute. Shelley was content to let Kate talk at her own pace.
"Then there was the Saturday morning before the end of year party at Gale's. I got Andie straight out of the shower to go down on me. It was like being made love to by a girl. A girl who was my husband and she was fantastic. Closest thing I'd had to a lesbian experience at that time. We both joked about it but my mind was spinning. I knew Andie had met you and that you had kissed her at that bar where you meet up. She described you perfectly and when she described the effect your kiss had on her I wanted to kill you. Understand that we told each other everything. Andie believed that I was only interested in men. I had to let her go. You know the old, ' if you love someone set them free, if they come back...'. Well she didn't come back. It was my own damn fault."
Kate was on her fourth glass by now. She got up and went to the kitchen, no unsteadiness, yet thought Shelley. A minute later she was back with a fresh bottle.
" Hmm that's nice. Where was I ... well things rolled on ... Andie had her operation. That time with her here as she recovered ... we were closer than we'd ever been. I tell you, watching as your husband stretches his vagina with a dildo is one for the books. I found it so erotic I can't describe it. Shortly after that you two got together and I knew I'd blown it big time. I dated off and on. But nothing, no one got to me. Even tried a few women just to see. Nope, no good either... then ... well..." tears started to flow freely down Kate's face.
Shelley knew they were close to it now. She got up and sat against Kate hugging her gently. " Hey come on I can tell we're almost there get it out huh."
The mood shifted and Kate started small talking about work, hers and Shelley's. This continued for about two hours. Then, "Hmm I'm hungry fancy some pizza?"
Pizza arrived and they ate and chatted. Another bottle of wine, Kate was on her eighth glass. Shelley her second still. Then Kate roused herself.
They were still side by side, Shelley prompted her with a polite, "Please Kate, you were dating with no joy..."
"Oh boy. Um ... well it seems one of my conquests wasn't... quite pure. I got chlamydia. No symptoms for a while then suddenly... yuck ... then pain. They treated the main problem and that seemed to be that. But they didn't quite get a secondary infection... by the time they caught it my fallopian tubes were badly scarred. I am probably infertile and it's sure no eggs can get down where they need to go. I may have to have a hysterectomy."
" Oh shit Kate. I'm so sorry. I know you wanted kids at some stage. Are they sure it's hopeless?"
" Oh yeah. Believe me I've spent some money in the last few months hoping... but no joy." They both sat back. Shelley went back to her seat and sipped a little. Well that would explain her behaviour to a degree but there's still more she thought. Maybe Kate doesn't know what herself.
They both sat and drank for a few minutes each wrapped in their own thoughts.
"So you can see why I've been a bit stand offish with Andie lately. Not only does the man slash woman I love, love someone else. She's not going to be a father."
"Did you know Andie; while she was still Andrew, had some sperm frozen so I could have our child when ready. She would help with maintenance or whatever. Well won't happen now." The tears started flowing again. She finished her glass and poured another. Her voice was just beginning to slur.
" I think, no I know. If you had expressed an interest the little wrigglies would have been available to you too. Andie asked me shortly after you two hooked up if I objected. I said no problem. Had I been bitchy she would never even mention it to you."
"She was my husband and now your girlfriend. Because the boy part was with me she would have kept to that and you would never have known. Still wouldn't, except for me blabbing.... Shit... Anyway where was I... the only time I get excited now is at a club I go to occasionally. Dominica's ever heard of it?"
'Shit', Shelley thought to herself; Dominica's. Yeah she knew it. D and S, S and M. A little more than her own tastes flew but a friend of hers was into it big time. Heavy duty. She guessed Kate was into the Dom stuff. Phew, Andie would not be happy with that.
There was a slightly evil smile on Kate's face at Shelley's expression. " I see you do know it. I thought you might." The smile faded became sombre again.
" Yeah I've been there quite a few times lately. Tried the sub side just to see. Wasn't my thing, I'm more a Dom, as I'm sure you know. We're much alike." She sat back and finished her glass. Her eyes were a little unfocused and her voice was slurring noticeably. Poured another, " So before I get too smashed to talk. I have discovered that the only thing that turns me on anymore is being Dom to a fem slash sub guy. Like Andie, only more so. But like a great sage once said, ... ' without love it 'aint much ', Prince I think. Anyway unless the gods toss me another beautiful sissy boy I'm screwed so to speak. Don't go to the club anymore, work is it. Then I come home and drink. Making a fortune but it's empty. Pathetic huh?"
They sat and finished their glasses, Kate's twelfth and Shelley's third.
" You know I didn't recognise it at the time. Only recently in fact. But when Andy and I were together and I was playing the field. What made it worthwhile was having Andy to come back to. Now I realise that I wanted him to accept that as part of our relationship. He might have too if I'd handled things better. No, that's not quite true. I expected him to accept it. Oh damn..." tears started again, " Your welcome to stay if you've had too much. I know I have. Anyway thanks for listening. You can tell Andie if you wish, I don't mind. Sorry I have to go. Then to bed. Spare room... you know where... or see yourself out. Um."
She wove across slightly unsteadily to Shelley, hugged her and with a kiss on the cheek thanked her for listening. " It has helped surprisingly. Thanks again. Goodnight."
Shelley felt saddened by the situation and wondered if she should tell Andie everything. Yes she thought. Andie's probably tougher than both of us put together. She checked her watch, just before nine. She finished her glass rinsed it and Kate's. Turned out the lights, made sure the door was locked and drove home.
3. Serendipity
Michael checked himself in the mirror. A flush of sorrow washed across his face as he looked at his naked body. Getting a little closer he thought. But when will it be right. He needed someone. But who and where? He dressed and headed to work at the bank. Junior clerk. No perks, not much money, but at nineteen with no great skills he couldn't complain. He wondered how much longer before the gossip started to affect his ability to keep working there. Oh well, cross that one when we come to it.
Kate needed to pick up some statements and documents from the bank. One of her clients wanted some details of their trust account she had set up. She could have asked Vanessa to get them but decided to walk down herself. As she approached the counter she noticed the young guy sorting some paperwork at a desk nearby. Very swishy she thought, has to be gay. He's so girly looking. "Excuse me...yes, could you see if there are some documents in that pile for Fleiss and Williams?"
He looked startled she thought, embarrassed even.
Flustered Michael looked for the documents that Ms Williams asked for. She was the fantasy girl for just about every guy in the bank. A few of the girls too he thought. He thought she was beautiful but way above him. Why would she even look at him? "Here you go Ms Williams, I think this is what you are after."
"Yes that's it, thank you...? "
"Michael."
"Thank you Michael." Hmm he was even prettier up close, I wonder...
He stood there on the outer edge of the group from work. Drink in hand he was barely part of things, but at least they'd asked if he wanted to join them.
Kate met her client in the back booth he favoured. She hated meeting in bars, but he always wanted, where possible to meet here. Still it wasn't too bad she thought. Comfortable crowd and plenty of space.
She was turning from the bar with a drink in each hand when her left elbow caught a woman in the breast, just a nudge fortunately. As she turned to apologise she stopped dead. It wasn't a woman. It was that kid from the bank. And he was seriously embarrassed this time.
Oh shit he thought, she knows. He could tell by the way she had suddenly stopped cold with her mouth open. Mumbling an apology he put down his drink and hurried out. Why did it have to be her? She'll hate him now for sure.
As she watched him hurry out Kate's mind was spinning. Well that was interesting. I'll have to meet young Michael outside of work. Hmmm...
As she sat waiting Kate ran through her options. Just approach him and ask to talk she decided. She spotted him as he left the building and hurried to catch up. "Michael."
He stopped and looked like a startled deer.
"Oh, Ms Williams was there something..."
"Yes there is. Please Michael may I talk to you." Now that she was standing here she wasn't at all sure where to go next. It must have shown.
"Umm ...Ms Williams can I help you. I'm not sure..."
" Michael please. I know I embarrassed you the other night. I understand what you're going through. You see my husband. That is, my former husband, is a transsexual. He is now living and working as a woman. Perhaps I can help you in some way. I, ah... due to my own short-sightedness I hurt the relationship we had. I would rather not see that happen again. So please, can we talk? Coffee or whatever. I'll drop you home after..."
"... so you see I do have some experience of this, ...ah, stuff. When my elbow connected with what I took to be a female breast. Then when I realised it was you and what that meant. Well I had to talk to you. You seem somewhat lonely and unsure of yourself. Perhaps you need me as much as I need you."
They were in a small café not far from the bank, each with a coffee and Danish. Michael was almost jumping with nervous tension. What he had just heard was unbelievable. Her husband now a woman. She knew all about him. Had a detective check up. His hand was shaking as he tried to take a sip of coffee. Ughh cold.
" Would you like a fresh cup Michael? I really want to be your friend. Please believe what I've told you. It's all true. You aren't the only one in the world although I'm sure it feels that way. Particularly in the circumstances. You're not yet twenty. Alone. No family. Probably a dead end job. With the probability that as you're appearance becomes more, ..femme, you may lose it. I know you're already looked upon as rather shy and girlish. Some of your... ah, workmates treat you rather badly don't they. If you had some backup that may lessen somewhat. I do know a couple of the managers in your branch. That may help a little." She watched as his thoughts whirled about and then he relaxed slightly with a small smile.
" I believe you. You know too much about this not to have had some exposure to it. I really don't know what is going to happen with me. Sure I can take the hormones. Which I am. But I barely scrape by week to week as it is. I have no savings and no great prospect of suddenly coming into wealth. Hell I don't even own any girl stuff, so... I um would love to have someone as smart and beautiful as you to talk to. I need a friend..." He looked down with a lost expression.
Kate found herself feeling almost maternal. His family had abandoned him. Not too different to what Andie had gone through at the same age. But Andie was stronger than Michael, more focused. Michael needed guidance. She reached a decision. This would set the terms of their relationship for some time to come. If she'd read things wrongly then this would finish it. If not... Well then maybe they could help each other.
"Michael will you do something for me. Will you, tonight, put down in your own words what you would wish from a relationship between us? Everything. Do not shirk any embarrassing desires. I will not laugh at you. I will be disappointed if you hold back. Or I believe you are. Then you will drop that in my file pickup at the bank marked personal to me. Will you do that Michael? "
Two days later as she sat down with a wine at home Kate opened the envelope that Michael had placed in her file. Her eyebrows rose in surprise as she read. Wow, he didn't hold back that's for sure. She wasn't at all sure she could live up to Michaels wishes and desires. Some of it would require a lot of self-control on her part. Some would be almost against her personal beliefs.
He wanted her to take complete control of his life. Total. Prevent any possibility of sexual gratification via his penis. Use him sexually or in any manner not causing disfigurement she chose. Body piercing. Corsets and lingerie. Maid fantasies, light bondage. This kid had been reading far too many twisted sex stories. Oh Boy, like an indentured slave or worse. She sat and pondered for hours. Then with an internal shake, a shiver of fear and a dash of anticipation realised she had made a decision. She would take control of Michael Hennessy. But she would temper his desire for domination with her own, she hoped, more empathic style. Not quite what he said he wanted but near enough. She just wouldn't let him know he was not her slave.
She met Michael in the same coffee shop three days later. They sat away from the other tables but it was possible they could be overheard.
"Michael. I want you to listen to me. I will be your, friend. But in return you must agree to accept my word as law. You will acknowledge me as your guardian. If I suggest something you will follow that suggestion. Do you understand?"
Michael slowly looked up with a dawning comprehension. He stammered for a moment. "Umm, ah... you mean you. You want me to be your um.. servant? Slave?"
"That is a little overstating things Michael. I want you to agree to follow my direction in all things. I will not do anything that I believe is against your interests. That is, to facilitate your transition from male to female. If you are willing to surrender yourself to me, I will in return bring you into my home. There you will perform any and all tasks that I may set. You will do your utmost to fulfil your obligation to me. I in return will do everything in my power to aid your transition. That may involve some tasks that cause you discomfort or embarrassment. You will not shirk these requests. Do you understand Michael?"
Michael sat for a moment with a stunned expression on his face. Then as he gradually realised what Ms Williams was offering his face lit up with joy.
" You... you...you mean you will take me as your property and make me into a girl?" He had tears running down his face with a huge smile lighting up below.
Kate watched the emotions run across his features and nodded to herself.
"Michael I cannot do anything of the sort. You are already under the care of a physician and psychiatrist. They with others will make you into a girl. What I will do is aid your transition. That is; help you adjust your life to a more feminine style. This will involve a good deal of work on your part and mine. But as we progress you will become more comfortable in your chosen role. I will also assist you financially in lieu of reimbursement for any tasks you may perform for me. I will push you and make your life very uncomfortable at times. But you will come out the other end, I expect two years perhaps sooner, a stronger more mature person. A confident and attractive young woman. You will not be my slave. You may leave at any time with whatever funds have been placed in trust to that point. But if you refuse me, that is the end of our agreement."
Michael suddenly realised she was waiting for his response. "Yes. I will do anything you ask. Please take me."
Kate nodded, "Do you have a fem name you use?"
With a shy downturn of his head he replied, " I um, I call myself Michelle. Obvious maybe but I like it."
"Ok Michelle it is." She pulled a document from her briefcase, " Please read this power of attorney and initial here and here and sign here." Michael quickly read it through and signed.
"Very well Michelle. I will make arrangements tomorrow to close your room. We will go there now to pick up anything you need or want tonight. Now. Repeat after me, ' I, Michael Hennessy, surrender myself body and soul to the care of Katherine Williams." He did.
" I will from this day be known as Michelle and refer to myself as female, with the exception of current employment." ... ...
" My owner will be referred to at all times as Ms Katherine." Stuttering he did so.
"I agree to my total subjugation to the will of my owner Ms Katherine. This will as was stated in my letter of intent." He did.
"I further acknowledge that I may terminate this agreement at any time by refusal to comply with a request from Ms Katherine." ... ...
"This would constitute a breach of agreement and void this arrangement".
"If this occurs I will leave her house as soon as practical with whatever funds are in trust in lieu of wages."... He complied.
"Very well Michelle, finish your coffee and we will go pick up your things."
There was a flutter of nervous tension in her gut as Kate watched him, no her, finish her coffee. What was she getting into here, was this something more than she could handle. Oh boy. Andie would shake her head in disgust if she knew. Well time enough for that. "Come on Michelle let's begin."
"Ok, um I mean, yes Ms Katherine." With a nod to her charge she turned to leave. With a mixture of fear and hope he followed.
4: Undercurrent
"Gather whatever external clothing you wear to work. No underwear or casual clothing. Only those personal effects you want to keep. Give me the key, everything else will be disposed of."
As he gathered a few possessions and his work clothes Kate looked around. She hadn't been inside before and was saddened by how squalid it was. H'; she would be glad to leave she thought. Ten minutes later they were on their way.
"Ok, only a quick stop at a shopping centre to get you a few things. Here's $100 head in and get everything on that list, then meet me here. I'll be waiting."
With a deep breath and a mumbled "Yes Ms Katherine," she headed into the store. Right; a dozen pair of cotton hi leg bikini briefs, 'medium' night shirt, 1 pack of hair ties, crá¨me beige foundation, facial moisturiser, ivory translucent powder, bronzer, clear lip-gloss, soft black eye-liner and mascara, cleansing lotion, shampoo, conditioner, two shower caps, body moisturiser, perfume free deodorant, toothbrush, hairbrush, two tubes of depilatory mousse.
The girl at the checkout barely glanced at him.
Michelle got back in the car and handed the change to Kate.
" There, wasn't so hard was it?"
" No, Ms Katherine, slightly embarrassing but only a little." With a nod and a slight smile Kate started the car and headed home. Starting to get my confidence up she thought. This could be just what we both need.
Michelle was shown her room and the rest of the house. Then instructed to shower and use the shampoo and conditioner. Then put on a cap and use the depilatory mousse, every-where, below the neck. When he had finished Michael wrapped a towel around himself flicked his hair a few times and headed downstairs to Ms Katherine as instructed.
" Ok Michelle let's have a look at you."
Slightly nervously he dropped the towel and stood naked in front of her. "Hmm not too bad, a little thick in the waist, 28, ok nice skin tone and features. Full A cup. This won't be too hard if we both work at it. You'll be sexy young thing in no time." Taking further measurements Kate jotted down sizes and some general observations.
"Ok Michelle, it will take a few days to get used to each other. We have the weekend to begin. As for work you will continue as before, as Michael. But I will supply your underwear and instruct you on general appearance. When we have become comfortable we move to the next stage. Ok."
With a shy nod, "Yes Ms Katherine."
Smiling Kate thought to herself. Yes this might just work. "Right then. Go and dress in what you find on the bed in your room. Assuming everything fits ok, that is what you will wear at home at all times from now on. The only exception is going to or from work, in bed or as otherwise directed. Go on shoo." With a clap of her hands and a pushing wave directed him up to his room.
Smiling Michael hurried upstairs.
As he gazed across his bed looking at Michelle's clothes a feeling of peace stole quietly over him. She did understand he thought. Not quite what he expected but close. Probably deliberately so, he guessed correctly.
Laid out on his bed was a cream linen over-bust corset with suspenders. A white short sleeved open neck blouse. Navy blue pleated skirt a couple of inches above the knee. Sheer black stockings, no seams and finally a pair of 3 inch navy kid leather pumps. He jumped as Kate spoke from the door.
" The shoes are a nine, I think you're about 1 size up from me. If they don't fit I can change them tomorrow. Everything else should be good. The skirt is a 24 waist so you will need the corset." She handed him a length of cord with a knot at each end and a blunt metal hook with a toggle handle.
" With the corset on pass that cord around your waist, when the knots meet, 24 inches. The hook is for the laces. The mirror in your closet swings out with one side flush like so. That way you can see what you're doing. Alternate, top to bottom, keeping the opening even and work toward the centre. When the knots meet wrap the laces once around your waist and tie off in back with a bow.
Dry your hair first. Then get dressed. I'll meet you downstairs."
That'll keep him busy for the next hour or so she chuckled and headed downstairs.
Trembling slightly Michael reached for the corset. Then stopped. 'Hair first', he thought. 'Then the clothes'. Fifteen minutes later hair fluffy and dry he slipped the corset over his head and settled it on his hips. Ok let's see about this then. Struggling a little he followed Ms Katherine's instructions. About forty minutes later and breathing very shallowly he tied off the strings.
Glancing in the mirror he shivered with excitement at his figure and the lace edged cups accentuation of his small breasts. Next, stockings. He greatly enjoyed the feeling as he slipped them on and adjusted the garter length slightly. He then pulled on the blouse and buttoned it, leaving the top two undone. Then with another slight shiver slipped the skirt up over his hips, buttoned and zipped. Sitting on the bed he slipped the shoes on his feet. They felt just a pinch tight but he guessed that they would loosen a little as he walked. He stood and looked at himself for several minutes. Very Catholic schoolgirl he decided. Embarrassingly he felt an erection beginning. There were no panties to help conceal things, again on purpose he guessed. With a sigh he headed gingerly downstairs only slightly unsteady on the heels.
"Well, well. Don't you look lovely. Very demure. Just need to straighten up your hair and adjust the front of your skirt a bit. Then make up." At her gesture he twirled slowly as she watched.
"Ok I can see why you wanted your penis restrained. Here slip this on then get a pair of the panties you bought earlier. We will fix that in due course."
He was handed a tight flesh toned brief, which did a pretty good job of hiding things. Then pulled on a pair of the cotton bikinis he had bought.
"Right sit here at the table and lets have a go at your hair and face." As he sat feeling almost light-headed Katherine ran her fingers liberally coated with mousse through his hair then brushed and tied it in a high ponytail.
"Ok now makeup. We are keeping very basic for now so look in the mirror as I watch over your shoulder. Now just a little moisturiser on your finger tips and gently massage over your face and throat. ...Yes that's it right into the hairline, down to the collarbone, yes gently around the eyes. ... Okay good. Now foundation, use the sponge, same thing, very gently." Kate watched as he did this. "Hmm very good have you practiced this before?"
"A little, some time ago. I haven't been able to afford any for myself."
"You're doing well. Now a light brush of bronzer on your cheekbones, no a little higher, that's it. Just a touch, good. Now same on your eyelids up to the brow. Yes that's it. Now eye liner and mascara. Go slowly and gently. Don't be heavy handed. No. Hang on. Start just in from centre of the bottom lash line very lightly move out then across the top. Yes good. Now mascara. Go slowly with the brush on the eye side working out and up for the top and down for the bottom line. Hmm... not bad. Lips just follow your natural line with the wand. Again not too heavy, blot with the tissue and repeat. Very good. Now a light dust with powder to set everything and your good to go."
Not bad she thought this will be simple. Well maybe not simple but they were both enjoying things so hopefully everything would run smoothly, fingers crossed.
"Right then, Michelle put your makeup in that pouch there, a few tissues, house key into your purse here. Done. Ok lets go meet my ex and her girlfriend shall we? I rang while you were showering to check they were home. Come on then, move it."
Michelle stood paralysed. One second he was on top of the world now he was terrified. Kate looked at him for a second with a slight smile. Then tightening her face barked, "Come Michelle, they won't bite. Trust me or leave!"
With a start she realised this was a test. Mentally shrugging she followed to the car.
After a short drive they arrived and parked downstairs in the third spot for Shelley's apartment. Her soft-top Merc against Andie's four door Audi and Shel's immaculate 20 year old Range Rover. As the lift climbed the two floors Michael became more and more nervous. When the door opened at the top floor Kate had to almost push him out.
"Michelle. Stop being childish. Andie has been through this herself and Shelley knows everything about her, so... come now. Behave yourself." As she pressed the bell Michelle shook himself and tried to hold himself together.
The door was opened by a tall, gorgeous, honey blond with big dark blue eyes. With a crooked smile she looked him up and down slowly, "Just a touch nervous are you sweets. Come on in we won't bite. Hi Kate. Andies in the kitchen doing the dishes. You know what a good little house frau she is." She laughed and beckoned them both inside.
As he looked about his expression softened and he started to loosen up.
Kate watching him with a chuckle nudged him to the lounge, "Nice room isn't it Michelle. You just want to curl up in some of those pillows and dream happy dreams."
"It's lovely. Like something from the Arabian nights."
Shelley had a big smile on her face now, "You're alright kid. Come, Michelle, Kate sit down. What would you like to drink?"
"Mineral water for Michelle, I'll have a glass of whatever's open." Noticing the slight frown she glanced at Michelle then back to Shelley. "Don't worry Shel I have an outside purpose now. My binging is over. Ok."
Just then Michelle saw another woman walk into the room. She was a fraction shorter than the other two with light reddish brown hair and soft hazel eyes. Not quite as obviously beautiful. But she was elegant and attractive in jeans and a soft cotton blouse. Much the same as Shelley she thought. This must be Andie.
With a look of happiness and curiosity on her face she walked straight to Kate and hugged her tight for several minutes. Then with a whispered, "I've missed you", turned to Michelle with a smile.
"Hi you must be Michelle. I've heard almost nothing about you. Please sit. I won't be a moment." She laughed lightly and headed back to the kitchen.
A minute later both women returned Shelley carrying four drinks and Andie with a tray covered in sliced cheeses, fruits, grapes and crackers. Noticing Michell's expression of hunger Shelley laughed, "See what I mean about the house frau bit Michelle. Help yourself, no dinner yet I guess."
With a playful swat to the arm Andie grabbed Kate and Michelle's drinks and placed them on the coffee table in front of them then took her own red wine. As she settled on the other lounge Shelley sat beside her and Kate sat beside Michelle. With a quick glance at Kate Michelle started nibbling.
The conversation flowed for the most part fairly easily. Drinks were refilled and nibbles topped up. However when the situation between Michelle and Ms Katherine became clear, things got a little heated.
Shelley with a bemused smile shook her head slowly from side to side, "Jesus, ... Ms Katherine. You're determined to go with this Dom thing eh Kate."
Andie with her arms crossed under her breasts was pacing back and forth with an angry and hurt expression on her face. Michael watched her with a tennis match type fervour and a feeling of fear. This was his mistress former husband. She could cause him to be thrown back where he was if she objected strongly enough.
Andie was fuming. "Kate! Damn it! You were my wife I still love you. How can you do this to an impressionable young girl? Guy. Whatever! Shit. You know how tough I had it at eighteen, nineteen. To take over and force situations that could be traumatic, perhaps dangerous shows a very shallow understanding of the precarious situation many trans' people are in. You may be able to shelter her some of the time... shit... There are a lot of otherwise reasonable people that get very upset, even aggressive regarding gays, or even worse people who have crossed gender lines. ...This is too close. ...I can't see clearly enough and you've hurt me by your attitude. I thought you were back to yourself,... but now... ".
Michael, realising that this was a potential no win position, dropped to his knees in front of Andie halting her pacing.
"Please Mistress Andrea don't send me away from Ms Katherine. Please. I'm not as strong as you. I need Ms Katherine to be complete. I am not being led down the garden path. I know some times things will get um, precarious. But please I need this. Accept that your wife. Sorry, ex wife, is a good person doing what I want... No, need to happen. Please don't judge too harshly yet."
Andie looked as lost as Shelley had ever seen her. She held out her hand to her.
"Please Andrea. Accept a situation that is outside your experience. Kate is your love. Trust her to do the right thing by Michelle. Even if that seems perverse or even twisted to you. I don't quite agree with all this. But I do acknowledge that for some it is the way. I've seen it. Don't condemn yet on an incomplete idea of what is involved. Your own fears and demons are not in play here necessarily. Please let it go for now."
Kate was watching this byplay with no small amount of angst. Was she doing the right thing? Was she no better than a child molester?
Andie stirred from her semi trance staring at Shelley, reached and lightly grasped her fingers. She had heard her lovers plea and recognised the expression on Kate and Michelle faces. Closing her eyes on the imminent tears she turned to Kate.
" So help me Kate I hope to god that you are right here. This seems so wrong from where I stand. But I hold no great or universal knowledge of what is right for every trans' person in the country. But if you fuck this kid up by trying to find your own sexuality I will never forgive you. I love you so make damn sure you have this right or it will cost us both dearly."
She then turned to Michelle, " Michelle I can't point you in any direction that seems wrong to you. Perhaps this is right for you. If you need to talk to me at any stage I will be here to listen. Okay." She crossed her arms under her breasts and left the room with tears running slowly down her face.
Everyone watched until she vanished from view into the next room. Michael sobbed quietly to the room in general, "I'm sorry. I don't want to cause any trouble."
Kate stared into the middle distance with a sad expression on her face. Shit she thought. No one can push her buttons the way Andie can. Had she misread the entire reality here? God I love her.
She turned to look first at Michelle then Shelley who was sitting unmoving where she had been for twenty minutes.
Realising that someone was staring at her Shelley roused. She first looked closely at Michelle then turned to Kate. "Michelle I understand that you may very well need someone like Kate here to fulfil your own personality. It happens I know. I've seen it before. If that is true, just follow your heart. It will tell you what is and is not the right path."
Sipping she paused momentarily to organise her thoughts, "Kate. Um. You and I are in a way rivals. But not in Andie's reality. She loves us both. You have tonight pushed a few buttons that she would rather not know existed. She recognises, at some level, the same imperatives that drove your romance and marriage. She and Michelle here are not too far removed from one another. That doesn't mean that they're the same. Just... similar. Both are passive personalities in a sexual sense. Andie is stronger than most. But still vulnerable. Michelle here needs to grow somewhat. Only time and experience can do that. Please do what you believe to be right for Michelle. If you do, even if mistakes are made Andie will come around. She does love you, always will. Deep down she trusts your judgement. Don't disappoint her. Okay."
5: Reformation
They drove home in silence. Each lost in their own thoughts. As the garage door closed behind them Kate turned, "Michelle I apologise for how tonight turned out. I will live up to my promise to you. So don't worry about what was said in that regard. Okay. Do think on everything that was said as it impacts on your own identity though and we'll be fine. If you wish to discuss anything with Andie or Shelley, that's fine also. We have to trust one another." Michelle nodded at her and headed inside. "Come on lets get to bed, I'll help you undress and we'll talk in the morning." Half an hour later both were in their own bed thinking their own thoughts and wondering if they were right.
The next morning Kate coaxed, "Michelle up and at 'em. Come on kiddo. Things to do, people to see. Shower and dress, I'll do breakfast this morning."
Forty five minutes later a slightly groggy Michelle walked into the kitchen.
" What time is it?"
Kate stopped and stared at her. After a minute she realised what she had said and blushed under her makeup, "Sorry Ms Katherine. Its early... I don't usually get up early on Saturday."
"That's alright. I'll let it go this morning. It's 7.30. We have some shopping to do and an appointment for you at 9.30 and another at 12.
They ate then headed out. First stop groceries, with the back seat filled they headed for the next stop. After a discussion with the stylist Michelle had a wash and trim, much the same as Kate had done it the night before but with deep auburn highlights in her dark brown hair. Manicure and pedicure. Then a facial and brow shaping and her ears were pierced with small silver sleeper hoops.
With her shoulder length hair loose rather than tied back as she usually wore it they headed for the second appointment.
This one puzzled Michael. It looked like a doctors surgery. But another room that could be seen through an open door had a bench with tools and metal turning machinery.
"Katherine please come in, this must be Michelle; charmed." The small elderly man took first Kate's then Michelle's right hand and brushed the back with his lips. "I have the design you suggested worked out. Everything should be ready in about a month. Certainly by 6 weeks when the initial piercings are healed fully."
"Excellent Mr Abraham, please continue."
"Michelle, please disrobe completely and then lay back on the chair here."
Michelle glanced back and forth between Kate and Mr Abraham. Both just gazed indifferently at him. Realizing she had to strip right here she began to undress. She was tingling with anticipation. She was about to be pierced, plural. What or where she wondered. Some of the stories she'd read that contained body piercing had really turned her on. Others had disturbed her.
She finished stripping, stepped up and lay back in the gynaecological style chair, trembling slightly. The decision had already been made she realised, she swallowed and tried to calm herself.
"As we discussed?"
"Yes. Eleven rings sized as agreed."
Eleven! thought Michelle. Oh Shit.
"Excellent I have the template right here. Please check the placement and I will get started."
He then proceeded to strap Michelle's arms at wrist and elbow. Legs at ankle and just above the knee. Another across the chest just below hr breasts. Checking that his patient was secure...
"Now Michelle this will not hurt. The straps are just to prevent you jumping in anticipation and spoiling a piercing."
He pulled on a pair of gloves, spread Michelle's legs wide and reached below his scrotum showing Kate, who watched closely, the first position. After receiving a nod he continued. He then produced a plastic cover that looked for all the world like a beetle carapace. Approximately 4 inches long, roughly triangular. The back or 'wing' end was about 2 1/2 inches across with rounded tips and the 'head' tapering to about 1 1/2 inches, rounded and bent downward. Maybe 1/2 inch thick at the centre. Like a refined athletic cup he thought.
"This is a full scale model of the finished device minus the lock and arm mechanism."
He then squirted a small glob of lube on his hands and rubbed over Michelle's penis. Then put the 'beetle' down 'wing' end at the upper edge of his penis. He then pressed the flaccid member into the centre of the 'beetle' where a tunnel was located. With a little twisting back and forth he showed Kate where the 'head' was now placed and folded the form down against her groin covering the genital area completely.
" You can see that stimulation or erection would be impossible. In place it will be undetectable except at close inspection. Urination is possible in a seated position through this hole here. This lower, second hole is where the key enters. Once locked it should be good for at least a week provided that basic wash and dry precautions are taken. Just a flush with warm water and blowing dry will suffice. Removal every week or so at your discretion to ensure proper cleanliness and depilation is desirable."
Kate nodded she understood and watched as he marked 4 slots down each side inside the edge of the 'carapace' and the bikini line. As he removed the template Kate nodded again at his glance. He then moved to the chest and after raising the chair more upright marked each nipple side to side. He swabbed all the marked areas with a dark brown disinfectant and showed Kate a packet of various rings.
"These are temporary, sterling silver, much like ear ring sleepers. They will stay in place, turning and disinfecting each daily until the sites heal. In 6 weeks the permanent rings of surgical steel will be placed. The device is primarily made of a light alloy, the top plate is moulded stainless steel also a satin finish as the rings are. The finished result will be beautiful. A very elegant design my dear, very elegant."
"Thank you Mr Abraham your skill will I am sure, complete the picture."
"Now Michelle are you ready? The disinfectant lotion is impregnated with a mild anaesthetic but if you feel more than a slight sting let me know."
With a swallow Michelle croaked out, " yes sir ready". Snapping his gloves he selected a straight needle, grasped the right nipple, checked that his line was right and pushed it through. Michael barely felt it.
"Alright then?" Michael nodded yes. The next nipple was done the same way, again leaving the needle in place. He next selected a curved needle checked it against the small rings nodded to himself then slipped the point in and through the end point of each marked slot. As he withdrew a small silver ring was slipped in place at each point. Then with another curved but slightly larger needle, pierced the perineum, again slipping a ring in place as the needle withdrew. He then returned to the nipples, as he pulled the needles he slipped a ring through each. Swabbing again with the antiseptic lotion he smacked his lips with a satisfied air.
Turning back to Kate he motioned her close and pointing explained, "These will do nicely for the next 6 weeks. The nipples are 5/8 inch. The permanent rings are a little heavier than these. The bikini rings are exact sizing, 3/8 inch. Finally the perineum also 5/8 inch as with the nipples, same gauge. Michelle you may get dressed now. You may have some slight discomfort for a few days. If any sign of infection occurs contact me immediately."
As he undid the various straps he looked admiringly at his work. "Magnificent. This will be very elegant. You are a lucky girl Michelle", kissing her hand he bade them farewell disappearing back into the work room.
"Let me help you with your corset Michelle. Then finish dressing. I will meet you at the car." Ten minutes later Kate watched as a pale Michelle walked to meet her.
" Any questions Michelle?"
As she settled in her seat Michelle turned to Kate, "This, ...device, is a chastity belt and locks to the rings?"
"Yes. It serves the dual purpose of concealing and rendering your genitals inaccessible. As you requested. I am in control of your sexuality. You will not masturbate or touch your penis, other than washing, until the plate is in place. And it's Ms Katherine remember."
Blushing she responded, "Yes, sorry Ms Katherine. Thank You." As she settled herself in her seat a slight smile crept up Michelle's face. Watching Kate laughed, started the car and headed for home.
6: Submission
"Rise and shine Michelle. Time to start learning how to run the household." Kate whipped the covers off a semi naked Michelle, "Ok first thing lets check the rings for infection and put on some antiseptic."
After a close inspection by both of them and a gentle application of the antiseptic lotion by Michelle, she got up and began dressing. "When you're ready we'll have breakfast then you need a few more clothes and things. Come on then, chop chop."
A quick breakfast including some basic instruction to Michelle they headed out.
"Right you need some more outfits, four the same as you're wearing with perhaps one each of plaid or tartan skirts. Then another pair of shoes, black I think. Another two corsets are on order they'll be here in a few days. Then, perhaps a more fem pair of shoes for work. Yes.. Okay lets go."
Several hours later with five complete outfits; two dresses, two skirt and top sets, two pair of girls chinos and five pair of shoes they headed for coffee. Kate had been watching closely and was pleased to see that Michelle had gradually become more comfortable as the morning progressed.
As she sat there in a semi schoolgirl outfit in a busy food court she was relaxed and quite feminine to the casual eye despite her incongruous attire.
"So Michelle how do you feel?"
With a slight start, " Uh, sorry Ms Katherine I was daydreaming what did you say?" Kate repeated the question with a smile.
" Actually quite good. I almost accept myself as Michelle, which is a little surprising, but nice. As for everything else. So far so good." This with a slight wiggle in her seat as she held her coffee in both hands.
An elderly woman passed by the table with a big smile and with a light touch to Michelle' shoulder, " So nice to see mother and daughter out together. School uniform should be compulsory I believe. You look very nice my dear, a compliment to your mother here." And with a small wave headed away.
Michelle blushed and then both laughed. " Daughter hey, humphh. Come along child time to go."
The afternoon flowed with a general tutorial on housework and cooking.
Fortunately Michelle was a quick learner. Then, with a basic fashion show they went through the days purchases, finishing with 'Michael's' work outfits with his new trousers and shoes. As he completed dressing he looked closely in the mirror noticing his more fem appearance. Even with his hair tied up as he usually wore it the subtle makeup, corset and stockings, girls pants and shoes left him looking decidedly girly.
"That looks good don't you agree."
"Yes, but I look very girly. I may have some trouble with a few of the guys at work. They don't like me much as it is. Now I know they'll give me a hard time."
"That may well be true. But you can't hide yourself forever. Besides I very much doubt that anything overly unpleasant would happen in a bank." Kate didn't add that she had already spoken to one of the managers at the branch and that she would be keeping watch for any overt hostility. Sandra was quite looking forward to the new look Michael.
The work week progressed fairly uneventfully. Apart from the odd sarcastic comment and a few words of encouragement from some of the girls there was no fuss. On the third day the floor manager called him in to enquire as to his status. 'Was he changing gender and did he anticipate staying with the bank, etc.' He was not particularly thrilled to have a possible transsexual on his team but was prepared to wait and see.
Michelle's home instruction was coming along nicely. She could, after several weeks, whip up a nice meal and clean, wash and iron without difficulty. His new persona was now grudgingly accepted at work and things were flowing smoothly along. One afternoon each week she had to present to a local salon for, at different times, manicure and pedicure, facial, wash trim and dry and monthly IPL hair removal. Saturday of the sixth week they headed for Mr Abraham's shop.
"Come in my dears, come in. As before Michelle please disrobe and sit back on the chair. Any concerns, hmm.... No. Good." As he snapped on a pair of gloves he produced a tray with the new rings and the plate on it.
" Very well lets have a look at you and then we'll get you fixed up. This is going to be beautiful, just beautiful." With a good long look at each site he swabbed with antiseptic and clucked his tongue. All the while muttering, 'good, good'.
He then removed the nipple rings and slipped the new rings in place. These were in two pieces that pinned together.
Michelle could feel a slight tightness as they pushed through and commented.
" Yes these are slightly thicker than the temporary rings. Don't worry. The tightness will be gone in a few hours."
When they were in place Mr Abraham proceeded with small hammers to round the pins in their sockets. Filed them smooth and finally used a paste and polishing cloth to finish. When completed there was no visible join and the surface was buffed to a soft satin shine. He continued with the pubic rings in the same manner. After nearly an hour he turned to Kate.
" Now Katherine if you would be so kind as to put a glove on your right hand."
As she complied he picked up the last piece of jewellery that until now had remained covered. This last was three links of chain the same as the other rings. Then, a solid silver disc, followed by a small silver bell that 'tinged' quietly with the slightest movement.
The whole thing hung about four inches. He passed this to Kate. With a small nod she accepted it and turned to Michelle.
"Michelle please read the inscription on the disc."
She did. It read simply. ' Michelle property of Katherine.'
"Do you freely accept this mark of you subservience and agree to wear the plate on your person as a gesture of your fidelity?"
With a quiet 'yes', Mr Abraham took the disc and chain and fixed it in place in the perineum in the same manner as the others. Then produced the plate. This was the final version and was a soft satin silver 'beetle'. He then produced a key ring with three small two inch notched keys. Taking the plate he pushed the key into the base of the curved 'nose'. With a quarter turn clockwise four legs popped out on either side enhancing the insect look. He showed Kate the legs and the curved under hooks that mated to each ring. Then placing a glob of lube on Michelle' penis rubbed it around lightly.
As before she noticed a slight numbing as he did this. Some sort of anaesthetic to prevent erection she guessed. He then positioned the plate on her abdomen at the root of her penis and instructed Kate on where to push and how to turn to push the penis inside the enclosed tube. With this done he then showed her how to engage the arms one pair at a time top to bottom. Each was pressed lightly back to the plate so that they just hooked each ring. When all were partly engaged the key was turned again. This time, anti clockwise. This pulled the arms fully back under the plate and locked it firmly against the pubis. Stepping back they both looked at Michelle. Between her legs all that could be seen was a small triangular soft silver plate looking like nothing more than a brief metal bikini bottom without any strings.
Mr Abraham stepped back and with a light clap exclaimed, "Beautiful, absolutely beautiful. It has been a pleasure my dears. An absolute pleasure. How does it feel to you Michelle? Any discomfort?"
Gingerly Michelle first touched her nipples, then reached between her legs fingering the links and disc causing the bell to tinkle softly. Then ran her hand lightly over her groin. At a gesture she stepped down and looked in the full length mirror on the wall. As she inspected herself a smile spread over her features, "It's lovely thank you sir. Thank you Ms Katherine."
"As I mentioned on your last visit you may urinate in a seated position. The plate should be removed weekly or at least once a month if daily cleaning is maintained. You will be the belle of the ball Michelle."
With a quizzical expression she glanced from him to Kate but neither gave any further hint.
Kate handed her a packet, "Thong panties from now on Michelle. Skirts or dresses only except at work", then turned and thanked Mr Abraham profusely and taking a small flat wooden case from him finished their business. Again complimenting his workmanship. With a pleased expression he ushered them out once Michelle was dressed.
As they settled in the car, "Any discomfort seated Michelle?"
"No Ms Katherine it's fine. I'm glad not to see or feel my thing. I know it's there but it's not uncomfortable."
" Well, wait till you've had it on a few days and see how you feel. I'm sure you'll be fine."
7: Transition
Over the next three months Michelle became very comfortable with her new persona. The IPL treatment had removed all her body hair except for a small strip under the plate, which was depilated weekly. She was pretty much accepted at work as a slightly masculine girl. Outside work she dressed in a completely feminine manner. Had taken over nearly all the household chores including the preparation of all meals, serving Ms Katherine and then herself.
She was happy one evening when as they waited for dinner to finish cooking Kate presented her a package with the words, " This is another of your desires Michelle. Time to experience life as a maid."
Blushing and grinning ear to ear Michelle opened the box to find a black satin French maid dress. Short sleeves, low cut, buttoning up the front with a tight bodice and short mid thigh flip skirt. Also 3 pair of seamed black stockings a black satin under bust corset that would provide slight support but leave the breasts bare and a red silk thong. In a separate box a pair of 4 inch patent pumps.
"Go on then. Get changed and let's see how you go." Grabbing both boxes Michelle ran upstairs. As she went Kate called after her to plait her hair as she had been shown. Forty minutes later a grinning Michelle returned, curtsied and stood at attention with her hands clasped in front.
Kate circled slowly around and with a smile pronounced, "Very nice Michelle. Good job with your hair. Just one more thing."
She handed over a small felt bag. Inside were 4 bells to match the one between her legs.
" One in each nipple and ear Michelle".
As she slipped them in place as dictated by the clasps the gentle tinkle of each was heard. With every move she made a light carillon could be heard. Taking a few steps back and forth the musical accompaniment followed. With a big smile she curtsied deeply, "Thank you Ms Katherine. This is lovely. Even better than I imagined."
With a clap of her hands, "Come then girl I'm ready to eat. You may serve the wine and then meal. Stand by. You may eat when I dismiss you."
With a short bobbed curtsy, "Yes Ms Katherine. Right away."
Over the next two weeks Michelle perfected her role. Changing into her uniform, with more obvious feminine makeup, after work each day. Preparing the meal and eating after Ms Katherine. Then cleaning up. As the time went by they became closer. Frequently going out together as two women. The mother daughter remark had stung Kate slightly so she had taken more care to look after herself. Having a personal maid helped no end.
Together they had decided that she would resign from the bank effective in two weeks. Two of the guys had started to get more aggressive, only toning down when they were warned that such behaviour was unacceptable. A few of the girls had called them jerks, which just spurred their anger.
8: Consequences
The only thing that was bothering Kate was the still frosty reception she got from Andie when they spoke. She resolved to invite them over for dinner to see how happy Michelle was in her 'servitude', gentle as it was.
The arrangements were made for Andie and Shelley to come for dinner on Friday night. Michelle was pleased but a little nervous. She wanted everything to go perfectly this time. Hopefully Andie would come to accept that she was happy.
As she fussed over the preparations she hummed to herself. This raised a smile to Kates lips. 'I'll have to make the next gift tonight. I think we're both ready.'
Andie and Shelley arrived right on time bearing a bottle of wine. Michelle greeted them at the door. Andie was surprised and a little uncomfortable to be waited on this way. Shelley smiled widely proclaiming, "Hmm hon. Have to get you one of those outfits. You'd look adorable. I'll get a little bell and you could serve tea."
She didn't notice the frown that greeted this remark. Kate did, but chose not to comment. She greeted the two women and said, "Michelle open the wine to breathe. We'll take a glass of champagne in the lounge. You may serve in twenty minutes."
"Yes Ms Katherine", she then withdrew to the kitchen returning with a tray of three glasses. Then headed back to finish the preparations.
After they had taken a sip Kate looked to Andie, " I know this situation bothers you a little Andie. But please trust me. I am not abusing or taking advantage. Just watch her and see for yourself. She's happy. I will gradually wean her out of this. In about 8 to 12 months she will be ready to emerge full grown as a woman. Free to do as she will. But in the meantime it really is lovely to be treated like this."
Kate and Shelley both smiled widely. Andie just looked away a little sadly. Kate got up and went into her room returning in a minute with a letter in her hand.
"Here, please read this. This is what Michael wrote to me when I asked for an outline of his wishes or expectations.
Andie read it through and became even more sombre. "This is just sad Kate. I don't understand how you could be a party to this. How far have you gone?"
She told them both everything up to date. Calling Michelle in she asked her to undo the front of her uniform. Shelley whistled softly, " Wow Kate you really don't mess about do you. Are you still intact under there?"
Michelle responded that yes everything was still there for now and that it wasn't at all uncomfortable. Shelley got up for a closer look and brushed one of her nipple rings.
"Wow that is sexy. I could see you with a pair like this hon."
Michelle blushed straightened herself and returned to the kitchen. Andie's expression tightened but she said nothing. Just looked at Shelley's obvious excitement with a sad turn to her mouth.
Sensing the mood Shelley turned and with a light hug, " Hey you're great as you are. No embellishments needed."
Andie shook her head gently and smiled slightly but her eyes remained sad.
Michelle then returned to announce the meal was served. She seated Kate first then the two guests. Pouring and serving. The conversation was easy enough as they stayed to neutral topics. Michelle hovered unobtrusively. Each commented on the meal. Kate thanked them for the wine.
Andie gradually relaxed as she watched Michelle seemingly happy, buzzing around waiting on them. The slight tinkle that followed her every move was actually pleasant. This thought surprised her. Perhaps she was being too judgemental.
Shelley sensing Andies mood, released the tension that had accompanied them here. Hopefully she had come to realise that this wasn't necessarily wrong for Michelle, or Kate for that matter.
Observing each closely trying not to be obvious, Kate was starting to relax herself. Gradually losing a tension she hadn't been aware of. She wanted Andie to accept that what she was doing was right. To trust her. That might not come easily she conceded but hoped they were closer.
The next couple of hours passed pleasantly. Michelle ate in the kitchen and then joined them for coffee. She chatted and assured the two guests that she was really enjoying herself. Shelley didn't really need convincing, but Andie still wasn't there. Though she was coming around. Just after 11 they thanked Kate and Michelle for a lovely evening. Andie giving Kate and then Michelle a hug and kiss on the cheek as she left. Shelley followed with a quick kiss on each cheek.
As the door closed they both let out a breath and hugged one another.
" Congratulations Michelle. That was excellent. Andie is at least coming around. Did you enjoy yourself?"
" Oh yes, thank you Ms Katherine. I'm glad Mistress Andrea is starting to like me."
With a sharp chuckle, "Oh she likes you well enough. It's my abuse of your subservient nature she's not too happy about."
"But..."
" Don't fret. She's starting to accept I'm not the complete villain here. That maybe you are happy. Don't worry we'll get there. Come on up to my bedroom, I have something to show you."
They were sharing a quick shower before bed. Shelley reached over and kissed Andie's right nipple, " I wonder what it would feel like with a little gold ring here and here." As she reached to the other nipple she was shocked when her hand was slapped aside. Realising that she had upset her lover Shelley hugged her tight and whispered, "Please Andie, you know I'm only kidding. I love you as you are."
" After watching you tonight I'm not so sure you are joking. Is that really what you see in me? Some sort of submissive bondage Barbie to play with! I may be a little soft in the sex department but I never thought you wanted a passive sex toy to have your way with." She was crying as she stepped out of the shower and reached for a towel.
Quickly rinsing off Shelley followed. "Hey come on hon you know better than that."
"Do I? I was watching you tonight, as well as the others. I was surprised at Michelles seeming happiness. Kate, well she is who she is. As much as I love her I no longer understand her. But you. I thought I had a good grasp of you. Then to see the lust on your face as you looked at Michelle. Don't try to pretend you weren't turned on by the sight of those rings and that chastity device.
I never realised what a kinky streak you had. It makes me wonder where I really stand with you. Do you want a ring in each of these to play with? A key to my pussy that you can use or not at your whim! Is that what turns you on?! Tie me to the bed and use a strap on to fuck me any way you like! Is that what you want!? Is It!?" Andie was sobbing now and almost yelling. They almost never fought but this one was striking nerves deep down. Bringing pain and fear that she couldn't control.
Shelley grabbed her and held on for dear life. She was scared. She had never seen Andie this upset.
" Please hon. Please you're scaring me. I love you. You know I would never deliberately do anything to hurt you. Yes I admit I found the sight of Michelle and those nipple rings a little exciting. But that is an abstract. I don't need it or her. I need you. I love you. Please calm down. Come on please. Sshhhh come on baby. Sshhh. Please come to bed."
She held on rocking Andie gently as they sat on the bed. Both women were crying gently but the fire had dimmed. After about 20 minutes Shelley kissed Andie on each eyelid, cheek, lips then the neck and throat. Easing her back she slowly and lovingly eased the pain that still clung to her lover.
Gradually Andie responded and they made gentle forgiving love. Then spooned together fell asleep as Shelley crooned in her ear and whispered, " Sorry my love, I never want to hurt you. Sleep baby. Sleep. Shelley is with you."
Michelle woke slowly but easily. The light was just starting to drift through the curtains. She was not in her own bed. Shivering slightly but not from cold she thought about the previous evening. After the guests had left Kate had taken her to the main bedroom. Producing the wooden box that Mr Abraham had given her she proceeded to cuff Michelle's ankles and wrists with satin silver 1 inch wide with a small ring on each. At a touch the wrist cuffs locked together behind her back. She had then asked for her maids tongue to pleasure her. Sitting back Ms Katherine had quietly waited semi naked for her to comply.
Nervously she did. The nervousness did not last long. Soon both were enjoying themselves immensely. After several orgasms Kate had gently pushed Michelle back and released her hands. She then went into the bathroom returning a moment later with a strap on dildo bouncing with each step. With a gulp of fear Michelle went to all fours on the bed as directed. Shortly the fear dissipated and a slow feeling of pleasure took over. Both more than enjoyed it. Her mind drifting Michelle realised it would be difficult to be Michael at work anymore.
That Monday as Michelle was in the bathroom touching up her makeup she heard the door open. Putting the lippy away in her small makeup purse she slid it into her pocket. She started to turn when the mirror leapt out and slammed into her face. As she fell backward in slow motion she realized she wasn't alone.
"Shit. That was a bit over the top wasn't it?"
"Nah. Just look how compliant our little nancy boy is now."
" But there's blood everywhere. His nose looks broken and that cut above the eye is pouring."
"So let's do what we came for and get out. Right?"
"Yeah I guess."
Michelle only vaguely registered her clothes being torn off.
"What the fuck...? What is that?"
Miles above two shapes stared down at her.
Amazed at what they saw they stood still for several seconds. " Shit let's get to it. Face or arse?"
" Toss ya for it." Then movement followed by a piercing pain in her rear. Then something was pushed into her mouth.
Her last coherent thought was that she was glad Ms Katherine had done it first, gently.
Michelle only dimly registered the yell as some time later one of the men in the office found the mess on the bathroom floor.
9. Reparation
Kate looked down on the bed with the bruised and battered figure in it. Blowing out she slowly left the room. Pouring a drink. Straight scotch, triple. She slumped into a chair. 'Oh god I never want to go through another afternoon like that'. The phone call from Sandra the bank manager. The rush to the hospital. Then, the suspicion and interrogation that had followed. With a gulp she tossed the whiskey back and set the glass down. She shook her head as she remembered what the police had told her. Two window cleaners both with previous records and both plead guilty almost straight away. After all, there was DNA and they had blood all over them. Talk about thinking with your dick she snorted sadly. At least there won't be a trial.
Over the next few days Michelle recouped a little. They talked a lot. At first Kate had wanted to drop the Ms Katherine thing entirely. But Michelle had refused. She had agreed not to return to the bank and to allow a plastic surgeon to fix her nose. Also, unknown to her, her breasts and adam's apple as well. It was the least she could do thought Kate.
Andie hadn't needed to. But Michelle had a slightly prominent larynx and her breasts would not get any bigger naturally. It had been discussed in passing. So...
Two months later a more voluptuous and confident Michelle was fully back into the swing as the maid slash ward. And Kate was having a hard time separating the Ms Katherine and Kate the lover persona's. There almost wasn't a separation any more she mused. As Michelle spent all her time en femme she became more confident and could now easily step out without fear. Also her wardrobe and makeup, at Kate's insistence, had expanded greatly. She was still the passive partner but there was a playful teasing in her submission now, which Kate found very satisfying. 'Not quite the Dom-Mistress after all eh Kate'. That thought brought a sly then rueful smile to her lips. Was this what she wanted? Well maybe little Michelle is growing up faster than planned. Was she a lesbian now? Did it matter? With a mental shrug Kate surrendered to her desires and called Michelle to the bedroom.
Michelle was now Michelle.
Michael had been cast aside and any pain or injustice with him. She was comfortable in her role and grateful for Ms Katherine. The two that had attacked her were simply opportunistic. One of the guys at the bank had been discussing Michael one day as the window cleaners left. He hadn't even noticed as they stopped and listened. Then watched as Michael had left to derisive sneers and comment. Then several weeks later, when the chance presented itself... well. Shit happens as they say. Medically she was clear thank god.
Ms Katherine had recently enrolled her in a business slash office management course. Hopefully she could get a receptionist job then later perhaps a PA position. What with her home duties and study her time was full and she was happy. Sex as the submissive was strangely empowering. Ms Katherine was a gentle top who made sure of her subs pleasure. She was quite sure that both were satisfied in that area. As she dried after her shower she stopped to look at her body. The metal additions were part of her now and she was strangely attached to them. That thought raised a wry grin. Dressing in a more mature version of her schoolgirl outfit, she no longer wore the corset every day as her waist had settled at 24 inches. It was only for when she was in uniform of an evening. Smiling she headed to prepare breakfast before heading to the college.
10. Disorder
Andie was sitting in her office with a best of Faith Hill CD playing on repeat. Even the beautifully crafted sentimentality wasn't restoring her mood. That mornings campaign outline had not started well. After weeks of work by the team the principal had basically told them that it was no go if the he-she was involved. After the initial surprise she had excused herself from the meeting.
She knew Gale was close to tossing the guy and any possible account out the window. Fully aware of the work that went into the presentation, she had pre-empted Gale by jumping in first and excusing herself.
On top of that she and Shelley had had another set to the night before. A pleasant evening had deteriorated to the point that they had slept in separate rooms after not speaking for hours.
"Andie. I'm not happy with this. It sets a precedent that I'm not sure is a good idea at all." Gale walked in and sat opposite. " That macho prick deserves to be tossed on his head by a female sumo. You are the head of the creative department. Anyone that can't cope with that does not have this agency representing them."
" It's okay Gale. Hopefully this is a one off. After all the work the team put in I couldn't justify ruining things before the presentation even started. Certainly not just to preserve my delicate feelings. I've coped with worse. And besides. It's potentially a large account and you do run a business here. Don't worry about me I can handle it."
With a grin Gale looked at Andie, " Damn near wasn't a presentation. After your exit, Dave, Peter and Linda almost walked. Linda was rather pointed in her comments. 'Pompous asshole' was the most polite piece. Still once everyone calmed down things went well. I think we got it. Now I just have to decide if I want it. Despite my misgivings thank you for your maturity." Gale then with a nod headed back to her office in the west wing.
Just then Jenny, guard dog, secretary and friend walked in with a bunch of flowers.
" Hmm, nice. They're from Shelley. You two have a fight or something?"
"Yeah you could say that. Several recently. There's some friction between us and I'm not sure it's all Shel's fault. It's entirely possible I'm being a bit precious of late. A bit touchy about things that don't directly concern me. Hmmm... These are nice. I'll have to cook a nice dinner and talk to her."
Jen cocked an eyebrow at that.
With a rueful grin," Shit. Am I a big 'girly girl' or what?" Both laughed at that one and got back to work.
Kate was watching Michelle a little nervously. Everything seemed fine. She had fully recovered from a rather nasty experience. Seemingly anyway. Apart from a fine scar in her left eyebrow there was no physical evidence. Still, was she fine emotionally. Despite assurances that any nasty memories were tossed away with Michael, Kate was not sure it was quite that easy. And what she was leading to very shortly might not help at all.
The annual expose at Dominica's of Master or Mistress and slave was coming in two weeks. She was hoping to present Michelle and by 'exposing' her to some of the more extreme examples that would be on display, gradually wean her to a more normal side of life. Not completely normal Kate hoped. But not totally dependant either.
"Michelle would you come here please. I need to discuss something."
"Oui madame?" Michelle had taken to a French accent lately. With the maid uniform and her colouring she did it well thought Kate. She was sure however that a Frenchman would cringe at the accent. Michelle bobbed with a brief curtsey and stood eyes down hands clasped lightly at her waist.
Kate shook her head and smiled. 'The perfect example of the demure serving girl'.
"Very good Michelle you certainly do that well." She just caught the small smile.
"In two weeks I wish to present you at the club I attend from time to time. I need you to be prepared. To that end I wish to test your response to punishment. That is I will paddle and then beat you lightly with a riding crop. You must let me know if this gets to be too much. Now..."
Kate produced the cuffs and anklets and clipped them on. She locked her wrists behind her then she had Michelle stand erect.
"Michelle this is an important moment." She noticed a slight straightening of the girls posture. Then she produced a collar to match the cuffs and other jewellery and clipped it into place. Attached the plaited leather leash and gently tugged to lead Michelle to the bedroom.
Kate, briefly unclipping her wrists, had Michelle remove her uniform. She stood leaning slightly forward exposing her buttocks and the top of her thighs. At first Kate was rather tentative. But as the soft gasps from Michelle became louder with each slap of the paddle she realised the girl was excited, not in pain. This spurred her on. As she began to get aroused as well she switched to the crop and alternated side to side, buttock to thigh. Soon they were both gasping for release. Then with a cry Michelle shuddered and slumped forward onto the bed.
Realising what had happened Kate sat down and called Michelle to satisfy her Mistress. After a moment to steady herself she complied energetically. Soon Kate joined her in release. As she rubbed a salve into the reddened areas of Michelle's rear they discussed what had happened.
"Well after a slow start Michelle it seems we have discovered something new about each other tonight. Are you sure you are okay with this?"
" I must admit Ms Katherine that I was a little apprehensive as you started. But then after the first few swats I began to feel... I don't know. Um excited, desired and very sexy. This was one of the things I wished to explore as you know. But I wasn't sure. Then as you continued I felt free if that makes sense. As you began to ... get into it... Ah it changed again and became mutual and very erotic. Then I couldn't hold on any longer. It was unexpected in a sense but amazing."
She dropped to her knees beside the bed, hands still cuffed. Eyes down the picture of subservience, "Thank you Mistress Katherine, your slave is grateful for the necessary discipline."
With a slight shake and a glazed look to her eyes Kate stood beside her slave and placing a hand gently on her head, "You are more than welcome Michelle. There will be many more sessions before the presentation in two weeks. You will do us both proud I'm sure. Come let's get ready for bed."
11. Expose
Kate dressed carefully in classic dominatrix mode, all black. Corseted waist pulled down to 22 inches. If Michelle could do it, so could she. Tight low cut leather shift dress 6 inches above the knee. Opaque, high stockings and suspenders. Knee high 4 inch spike heel boots. Short skin tight leather gloves. Hair glowing with health. Glossy scarlet lips and nails with darkly accented eyes. The whole effect was powerfully sexy.
Michelle was likewise corseted to 22 inches. Black satin under-bust corset leaving her belled and rouged nipples exposed. Dark red lace thong, silk stockings and suspenders, 4 inch black pumps. Hair braided and tied with red lace. Soft rose, lips and nails. Softer, more demure eyes. Bells at ears and between her thighs. Collared, hands cuffed at the small of the back. Ankles hobbled with an 18inch chain. A fine chain ran from the ankle hobble to her wrists so that it could be lifted to walk. A small mask to conceal the identity but not hide anything was placed over her eyes. Then slipping a calf length silk kimono over her shoulders and belting it lightly Kate clipped the leather leash to her collar.
"Ready Michelle. You look absolutely beautiful."
" Thank you Mistress. So do you. I'm ready."
Andie had tried to ring but got the answer machine. On her way back from a late session at work she swung by the house. Parking she walked up the driveway toward the house as the garage door opened.
As they were opening the car doors with Kate leading Michelle the garage door opened and they became aware of someone standing in the driveway.
To say she was surprised would be understating it just a little. Andie's gaze took in the two forms in front of her and the blood drained from her face. Stunned she just stood there for perhaps a minute, mouth open, eyes jumping between the surprised Kate and a composed Michelle. The sash of the kimono had slipped a bit to reveal Michelle almost completely.
As Kate began, "Andie...". She turned and ran to her car. The dark blue Audi almost spun its wheels as she raced down the street.
Knotting the kimono a bit tighter Kate helped Michelle sit in the car. 'Oh shit', she thought. 'Shouldn't have opened the garage before we got in the car. Well, have to deal with this later.' "Come Michelle."
Parking a block from the club. Kate opened the door for Michelle and helped her out. Locking up she took the lead.
"Now from here on we're on show. Walk proudly and observe. You will not speak unless I give leave. You may be spanked a little and displayed to the gaze of any who wish to look. But you will not be abused. I will not be far away at any time."
They were lead to a small table, one chair and one large cushion on the floor and given drinks. Champagne for Kate and mineral water with a straw for Michelle. A steady flow of Doms and leashed subs wandered about the room. Some stopped to chat to Kate. Michelle was ignored except for a good deal of staring both close and from afar. Trays of food were constantly swinging past carried by slaves of both sexes, in various attire. You signalled to pick and choose. Kate fed Michelle the odd morsel from her plate as they watched the parade and floor show.
Some of it amused Kate. Some disgusted her and occasionally she found herself getting aroused. Michelle watched and took it all in. Apart from an occasional wince at some Master or Mistress abuse of their slave, showed no emotion.
Then Kate rose quietly picking up the leash, "Come Michelle. Time for your display."
Leading up to the small stage Michelle for the first time felt fear. A slave released her hands and hobble chain and her Kimono and lace thong were slipped off. Then, cuffed together in front, her hands were clipped to another chain and raised above her head. Her ankles were clipped to short chains fixed to the floor. Standing fully erect and very much exposed she watched as Kate circled her slowly without a word tapping the crop against her right thigh.
The first stroke made her jump. She closed her eyes and relaxed as though it was home in the bedroom. Not here in front of perhaps 200 strangers, some of whom were decidedly kinky, if not down right depraved. Gradually she became aroused as her practiced Mistress brought her to and over the edge. Applause greeted her climax.
Kate stroked her cheek gently," Very well done Michelle. Now just allow these people to have a good look at you, then we will leave. No further display."
For the next 40 minutes she was groped as her rings, bells and plate were inspected. Mr Abraham was mentioned several times. And there was general surprise that she was a he under the chastity plate.
Her hands and feet were released by the stage slave. Four hours after arrival, Kate without a word, slipped her thong and kimono back on, tied the sash and clipping on the leash lead her out and home.
12. Dislocation
Shelley tried to calm a highly agitated Andie as she paced back and forth. For twenty minutes she had been unable to get a clear account of what had upset her lover. Kate and Michelle were involved somewhere but the snatches of disjointed words through the tears had yet to make much sense. Finally grabbing her to force stillness Shelley stood behind Andie and pressed gently. Then as the story emerged of the vision that had greeted Andie at the garage door of her old home, Shelley against her own will began to get turned on. As she cupped one breast through Andies t-shirt she whispered into her ear, "Perhaps you recognise yourself and us to some extent in that image."
It was spoken tenderly and with love but the reaction was like a jolt of electricity. Andie stiffened and with a cry pushed Shelley backwards.
" You what! You fucking bitch! I am not some fuck toy for you or anyone!" Then sobbing ran to her bedroom and slammed the door. She emerged some twenty minutes later carrying a tote and with tears still running down her face.
Despite the voice in her head screaming no, Shelley snarled, "So can't cope with the truth. Déjá vu. Run away little boy. Just like last time when things got tough."
Stopping dead at that Andie turned and looked at the woman she had thought she loved and that loved her in return. With a sadness she could not express she turned quietly and left.
For the first time in many years Shelley sat down and sobbed.
After a couple of blocks Andie had to pull over. She could barely see the road for tears. Eventually she calmed enough to drive to a Motel and despite the concern of the manager book into a room for the night. The next morning after about two hours sleep she headed for work, first arranging another few days in the room.
Jen took one look at her boss and brought coffee," You look like shit boss. I've never seen you this dishevelled. Thank god it's Friday huh. Want to talk?"
With a slow shake of her head and a tight smile she declined. Then sipping quietly at her coffee stared into space ignorant of the world around her. After a few minutes Jen with a worried look at her boss and friend quietly left. Closing a door, which was almost never shut, behind her.
"Hey Shel it's Jen.... ......You what?! Shelley how could you say that. ... Shit, no wonder she's like the living dead this morning. Christ between you and Kate trying to be boss bitch.... ...Shit I don't know. ...I hope you haven't too. ...Yeah and to think I pushed you two together. ...... Hell. ...Well Andie's pretty forgiving so there's still a chance. Just lay low for a bit. ...... Okay sure I'll talk to you later. Damn. Now what?"
"Gale could I talk to you for a minute? ... ... Thanks, be right over."
"May I come in Andie?"
"Sure Gale no need to ask."
"It's your office. If you need a little privacy I won't intrude. But Jenny tells me you're not yourself this morning. If I can help, please talk. I'll listen."
It took nearly an hour.
"Hmm I see. Well if you feel you need the space for a week or so to think. Why don't you stay at my house instead of a seedy Motel? There is plenty of room as you know. You don't have to be sociable if you wish to hibernate for a bit. Have a weekend lazing by the pool. Besides Marianne will be thrilled to have some one else to mother. Give me some peace for a while. ... Ah, so you can still smile. Good. Check out and come over after work."
"Thanks Gale I will. But don't expect scintillating conversation for a few days, okay. I'll have to stop at home for some more clothes so I'll probably see you at about 7."
"Good I will let Marianne know to expect a semi responsive guest for a few days. Supper at 8. See you then."
13. Contemplation
Andie parked her car under the shade sail at the side of the house. Lifting the bags she placed them on the ground and looked toward the front door. A tall slender woman was waiting. Marianne was a Vietnamese whose parents had fled the coming war in the early sixties. She still wore the traditional silk Ao Dai.
Greeting Miss Andrea she bowed in a short palm together wai, requested one of the gardeners bring the two cases and lead the way to the room.
"Please relax Miss Andie, supper will be served in 40 minutes, Mrs Gale will join you then. I am instructed that you are to have the run of the property. I will come for you when supper is ready."
Andie watched as Marianne flowed down the hallway. She was probably in her 50's but looked perhaps 30 and moved with a fluid grace that would put a classical ballerina or gymnast to shame. She ran the household and scared the hell out of anybody that dared question her authority.
Sitting on the bed Andie pondered her current state. She was glad that Shelley had not been home when she called in to pick up some clothes. She wasn't sure if she could rationally explain herself at present. Let alone cope with another shouting match.
Supper was pleasant, cold cuts and fruit. With spicy side dishes of cold rice and vegetables that melted in the mouth. Conversation was easy, if general, and Gale kept away from anything relating to Andie's current personal turmoil. Making it plain however that she was available if Andie wanted to bounce any thoughts off a sympathetic sounding board. She was well aware of the stresses of the moment and hoped that Andie could resolve her internal conflict with what she perceived to be the external pressures.
During a lull in the conversation she gazed contemplatively at the person she almost regarded as her own child. Andie was in many ways an exceptional individual. But due to various factors as she progressed through puberty and grew to adulthood she had internalised many things that most people grew through. Not the least was her dependence on another for validation of love and self worth. If the relationship with Shelley failed it would affect her a great deal. She would survive but would be lessened. At least for a time.
Particularly if, as Gale thought was likely, she came to rightly or wrongly blame herself. Also Gale liked Shelley and hoped for a resolution. As for the relationship with Kate. She wasn't quite sure where that was at present. Apart from a very vague outline by Andie that left more questions than answers, she had little idea of how much his ex wife factored into this.
With a start she realised she had thought of Andrew, instead of Andrea, for the first time in several years. That shy young man that had been employed nearly seven years ago. He had shown promise and she had more than repaid that initial trust. With a sigh she returned to the moment and joking about incipient senility and old age called the evening to an end.
After several days and little sleep Andie was no closer to sorting her thoughts and decided to run. It was almost 6am as she stretched and headed out the kitchen door. Stopping suddenly as she saw Marianne dressed in loose cotton trousers and shirt gracefully and effortlessly swirling and dipping in a form of dance. Stopping mid swirl she came erect, bowed to Andie and said, "Pa Kua. The Chinese do know a few things. Enjoy your run." With another bow she returned to the graceful dance.
Andie returned the gesture and gradually picking up her pace headed down the driveway and along the road. The fragmentary dreams of the previous night fought with stiff muscles for attention. Swirling images of strong women in black, sneering as she pulled away. Other vague shapes offering shackles and assorted pieces of bondage equipment. Michelle in her maid uniform moving forward to hug her, whispering 'welcome', as she stepped closer. Shelley in an old gangster style suit, leaning against a rustic brick wall and flipping a golden ring as though it was a coin.
With a mental shake she pushed herself harder to escape her own thoughts. Then realising the futility slowed and walked back to the house.
As she re-entered the kitchen Marianne met her with a glass of what looked like milk. She was as usual dressed in the Ao Dai. "Goats milk, herbs and rice spirit. As close as I can get here to an old family recipe. Good for the soul and mind. Drink."
As Andie complied an image suddenly superimposed itself on Marianne. An ancient, yet childlike woman that was gone in an instant.
Marianne was looking as though to measure Andie and nodding pronounced, "There is no shame in giving yourself to love. If the other is worthy they will not take what you cannot give. Trust your heart to tell you where the boundary lies. Recognition will free both of you. Man or woman makes no difference. We are all spirit in the end."
With another bow and a pleased smile that Andie had emptied the glass she returned to the food preparation that had been momentarily interrupted. With a bemused grin Andie headed upstairs to shower and change.
Over the next three days Andie repeated the run and returned to find a chilled glass of the Marianne secret recipe sitting at her dressing table. She felt calmer even though she had not made any conscious resolutions.
14. Acknowledgement
As she headed up the hill toward the turn to head back to the house Andie noticed a familiar dark yellow four wheel drive parked to the side. As she drew closer she recognised an even more familiar figure sitting cross-legged on the open tailgate.
She slowed as she drew close and heard the punchy piano and soft gravel of John Hiatt exhorting the listener to 'Have a Little Faith in Me'. Nimbly jumping to her feet Shelley walked to meet the shorter woman. At 5' 10" and in her standard attire of jeans and 2 inch black ankle boots she stood almost four inches taller than Andie. Gazing into each others eyes seeking assurance and acceptance they embraced for several minutes. Shelley leaning forward slightly and pressing her cheek softly onto the others forehead.
"I'm sorry Andie. I can be a nasty bitch sometimes. Please forgive me and come home. I miss you." With a soft kiss on the cheek and a small nod Andie took her hand, walked to the Range Rover and climbed into the passenger side.
Pulling up in front of the house they were greeted by Gale and Marianne. With a grin Gale took both Shelley's hands in hers and with a light kiss to both cheeks, "Lost my house guest eh. Ah well so be it."
With the usual bow, "Miss Shelley just in time for breakfast. Come."
Over a buffet style breakfast of fruits, yoghurt, croissants and coffee both Gale and Marianne noticed, with a glance and slight nod to each other, that the tension that had wound around Andie had dissipated. Conversation was light and easy. About an hour later Shelley with a return of Gale's greeting and Marianne's bow and a kiss and hug to Andie took her leave.
Andie headed up to pack up her things to find Marianne waiting for her.
"Miss Shelley leaves tomorrow for three days. Ms Gale tells me it is her birthday next week. Something for you that is perhaps something for her as well."
She handed Andie a soft package wrapped in fine woven paper. Opening it Andie looked on rich and light material in blues with swirls of red and white and brown. Fine gold symbols spaced across it. She lifted it out and held a feather light, knee length silk kimono with four sashes each one emphasising one of the secondary colours.
" The sashes are earth, air, fire and water. They can be worn in various ways." This said with a slight smile. " The symbols loosely translated mean spiritual peace and harmony. May it be so for you and Miss Shelley. Each of you has fear that needs exorcising. Perhaps this will help."
With a small bow Andie responded. "Thank you Marianne. This is absolutely beautiful. I'm honoured."
With another bow followed by a clap of the hands she took Andie's arm and lead her down stairs as a shoeless gardener gathered the bags and headed for the car. Gale kissed and bade her farewell until Monday.
They were tentative with one another that night and the next day, almost like unsure teenage lovers. But there was no underlying friction that had been ever present in recent months. Sunday afternoon Shelley left for 3 days on a shoot.
"See you Wednesday night hon. Be good. I love you."
"Love you too. See you then. By the way don't make plans for Friday night it's your birthday and I have plans, ok."
"Sure thing. I can't wait. See you Wednesday." With a hug and a kiss she left.
Over the next few days Andie organised and took delivery of several items. She had a few practice runs and was thankful she had. It took longer than she would have expected.
Kate had been pleased to hear from Andie on Monday. She had rung her office and arranged lunch for Tuesday. They had met at 'por favor'. Unlike Shelley, Andie had not been there before and was impressed with the blend of styles and flavours.
Andie had offered an apology regarding her actions and attitude over the last few months. Admitting a subconscious and slightly irrational fear over the similarities between Michelle and herself. She acknowledged that Kate had probably done the right thing and that she would be okay with it from here on in. She now knew she wasn't Michelle. Just as Shelley, or Kate for that matter, wasn't some dark souled dominatrix bent on controlling her. She should have recognised that all along.
Kate for her part acknowledged that she had subconsciously been attracted to that soft side in Andie from the start but didn't understand it or her own desire back then.
When Andie heard that Michelle was just about finished her office management course she mentioned that a rival agency across town, not too far from Kate's office, that they were friendly with, needed a receptionist for one of their departments. She would call to check and let her know. Kate knew the agency but had never dealt with them personally. She thanked Andie for the gesture. As they left they hugged each other tight.
"Andie I'm so glad we're friends again. I love you you know, it was tearing me up to have you so angry with me. I'm happy with Michelle but she's not you. Although that's probably a good thing in some ways. She fits me better now than you could. So all for the best perhaps."
"Hey Kate, I told you before, I will always love you. We may not agree on everything but that's by the by. You are who you always were and I guess we both know ourselves better than we did. We will always be close. As for Michelle I trust you and I like her I think. She seems to be a smart kid. So we're good,
okay."
Shelley returned Wednesday night and they were easy together with Andie reprising the apology she had given Kate earlier that week.
Andie arranged to take the afternoon off on Friday and told Shelley not to come home till 7.30 - 8.
Andie had phoned Thursday to let Kate know that the dept head Peter Szmyck would meet Michelle next Monday or Tuesday morning to have a chat. Michelle should call him tomorrow and set it up. She thanked Andie and assured her that she would pass it on.
15. Progression
Andie had kissed Shelley awake and wished her happy birthday. When she had gently pressed for a more physical gift Andie had pulled back with a smile and headed for the kitchen. The softly growled 'bitch' that followed her raised a laugh from both of them.
With Jens help she had managed to get things squared away well enough to leave at 1.30. After 2 and a 1/2 hours at the salon getting the works she headed on.
Stopping at a few specialist deli's she got all the necessary to organise the food. Next stop, wine. With a half Dom Perignon and two bottles of South Australian Petaluma Riesling she headed home.
Marianne had showed her how to make the spicy rice and vegetable side dish. She had also offered a few tips for a Thai style green seafood curry and a stir-fry Vietnamese vegetable dish.
With the food simmering and steaming gently she taste tested, set the table and laid out the bedroom. Shelley had the queen size bed with an old cast iron, railed foot and head.
With everything set she checked the time. 6 o'clock. Time to shower and get dressed.
Thanks to the practice it didn't take too long to dress. She touched up the makeup to maintain the soft innocent look she was after. Double-checked her hair, 7.30, perfect. Adjusted the sash to leave just enough of a gap. Lighting the scented candles she double-checked everything. With a wry smile she shook her head in acknowledgement of how nervous she was and sat down to wait.
Shelley opened the door at 7.45 and smiled as she took in the candle-light coming from her bedroom and the table. An old Pat Metheny CD playing softly in the background. Her stomach rumbled at the thought of a romantic dinner. Andie was a good cook.
Two steps inside she stopped dead. Her heartbeat suddenly racing as her eyes widened and her mouth went dry. It took perhaps 40 seconds before her mind could process the vision.
It was Andie but a more sensual Andie than she had ever seen. Her gaze wandered slowly head to toe and back. Her hair was done in an intricate French braid and tied with a blue silk bow. Makeup soft and demure. Short silk kimono tied loosely to reveal a royal blue silk brocade corset laced tight to emphasise her waist. Matching silk thong she guessed. Black lace top stockings and four inch kid spike heels. Making them equal in height with her favourite boots on. From each wrist a tied silk scarf hanging down raising all sorts of possibilities.
With two quick steps she took Andies wrists and pushing them gently behind her back pulled her lover hard against her and kissed her long and deep.
" You're trembling, are you okay?"
"I'm ok Shel. Just a little afraid maybe."
"Afraid of me. Why? You look so beautiful. My heart is racing like you wouldn't believe."
"At least you're as off centre as me. Um ... I guess I'm afraid that I'm giving away part of myself that I can't get back. And if I do, I won't ever be the same, after."
" Oh.. Andie. ... You have no idea. You could ask me to do anything and right now I would do it. No matter what." Taking her lovers hands from behind her back she brought them up to her own chest and pressed them against her left breast.
"You hold my heart in your hands. Just a squeeze and I would cease to exist. Despite what you may think or feel you have more power over me in this moment than anyone or anything on earth."
Andie had lowered her eyes. She raised them and looked deep into Shelley's. They were still pressed tight together. With a half smile, " At least wearing these I can look you straight in the eye. Come on lets eat."
Her nervousness had receded as she served the entrée and poured the wine. She paced the meal as they chatted and regained their equilibrium. She cleared the table as Shelley finished the last of her wine. Then handed her a small flat case. Shelley opened it to find a gold chain bracelet with 3 charms spaced around it. Looking closely she recognised a fish water sign for Andie and a lion sun symbol for her. Between the two was a symbol she didn't know. Glancing at Andie she saw it on the kimono. With a smile and a raised eyebrow she silently questioned.
"Peace and harmony, it's Vietnamese. I think. I hope you like it."
"It's lovely. Thank you."
Andie opened the half Dom and poured them each a glass. Then taking Shelley by the hand lead the way to the bedroom.
"Come on lover, before I loose my nerve."
As they entered Shelley took in the scene. The way the bed was made up. The soft scents of lavender, musk and vanilla. No pillows hiding the bed head and the redish purple jelly strap on sitting on her bedside table. Andie took the two half drunk glasses and placed them on the dresser, shrugged the kimono to the floor and leant against Shelley placing the loose sashes tied to her wrists in Shelley's hands. Pulled her close and kissed her deeply, "I am yours. Please be gentle."
"Oh .. Andie love.. you have got me so hot." She took Andie gently down to the bed and ran her hands over her lovers corseted body. Then tied each wrist to the bed head, kissing a palm as she did so. Then to ease the nervous tension that had returned to Andie began kissing her way up and down her body.
"Trust me hon. Only as far as you're willing. I love you." As Andie opened her eyes and nodded. Shelley began to strip.
Over the next 2 days both opened themselves to feelings and gave themselves more deeply than ever before. They gave and took what was offered with joy.
16. Completion
Michelle had been nervous. She had dressed carefully this morning. A pale blue skirt suit with matching lace bra and French knickers. Nude pantyhose and navy silk blouse, shoes and bag. Smart but subtle makeup.
Mr Szmyck, Peter, had been impressed with her appearance and manner. When Sandra, Kate's bank manager friend had been glowing in her praise and sorry for her leaving he had hired her. She had arranged to meet Kate at work at 2. So with a couple of hours to kill she wandered the few blocks window-shopping and occasionally going in to look or try something on.
When a man followed her for half a block she had been initially afraid as he approached. But as his own nervousness showed and she realised he was just trying to chat her up she relaxed. Apologetically explaining she was meeting her boyfriend at 2 and was just killing time. He shrugged and said that if she got tired of him to let him know. Handing her his card he walked away backwards until he almost tripped at the curb. They both laughed and feeling very good she turned and headed to meet Kate.
She was updating some files when Michelle was ushered in. With a smile she stood and with a slight hug and kiss to the cheek," I hear congratulations are in order. You are a newly employed receptionist at WPS Advertising."
They both sat.
"How did you know so fast? I wanted to surprise you." She responded with a slightly sulky expression on her face.
Laughing, "Peter phoned Andie to thank her for putting you forward. Then of course Andie phoned me. That was nearly 2 hours ago....You look very cute playing the sulky teenager. But don't push it kiddo."
That got them both laughing and Kate caught the playful glint in Michelles eye as she looked down with a very subservient 'yes Ms Katherine' and an almost curtsey, which was a little hard to do seated. Kate pulled a large envelope from her desk and pushed it across.
"You might need that. It's your new ID; Passport, Drivers Licence and Tax registration all in your name, Michelle Jane Hennessy. When do you start?"
Michelle almost trembling opened the envelope and looked at the photo on her Drivers Licence then flicked open the passport and scanned the details, name age height etc, then stopped on sex, Female. With tears in her eyes she looked up. Kate was sitting and smiling with a raised eyebrow to indicate... what? Michelle played back the last few minutes and blushed. "Oh, um... sorry Ms Katherine. I start in two weeks. I, um... thank you very much." She blushed again and head down had tears in her eyes.
"Your very welcome Michelle. Now, no tears this is a good day. Alright. By the way when we're out, so to speak, there's no need for formality. We are friends. It's Kate and Michelle, okay. Have you had any lunch yet... no ... right then lets go. There's a nice place just down the block, my treat. When you're a working girl you can pay me back." They both laughed and got up to leave.
"Thank you... um...Kate. I'm very glad we're friends. I'm starved." Laughing again they headed out the door. Lunch was a very pleasant 2 hours and as they wandered back to the office chatting like old friends Kate decided to raise a question that had been on her mind for a while.
"Michelle are you happy?"
With a puzzled frown Michelle stopped and looked a little frightened suddenly.
"Y..yes Ms Katherine I'm very happy. Do you want me to move out when I start work?"
With a laugh Kate wrapped her left arm around Michelle's shoulders, "No silly. I'd be lost without my Michelle. This is just another step in our evolution. What I wondered was do you wish to complete you're transition. You didn't even look at that bank statement. Too busy admiring your photo. But as I promised a little over a year ago I've been paying you. There's nearly 25 thousand in your account now. So you could easily do it soon if you wish."
Noticing the slightly lost expression brought on by this news Kate decided to put the brakes on.
"Just something to think about. As you're just about to start work it would be at least 6 months before you could get time off to do anything about it. Short of quitting anyway. Just give it some thought and we'll talk whenever you're ready. Okay?"
Michelle was somewhat surprised to feel unsure. This was something that she had been working toward for years. But the past year had opened feelings that she hadn't realised existed. She was no longer sure. Did it come down to whether Ms Katherine preferred her as she was? Or as she could be, with surgery?
"Hey. You still with me? ... Wakey, wakey. I didn't mean to upset you Michelle. I sort of thought that was what we were leading to. It's your decision. After all it's your body under the knife, if you go for it."
With a slow mental shake Michelle came back to the here and now, "I'm sorry Kate. I suppose that is what I want. Um... is it what you want? Um... you do sort of own me after all." Then blushing deeply, " Ms Katherine I mean... " tears started to flow.
"Hey hey. None of that. Come on." With her arm still around the smaller woman Kate lead the way back to the office. When they were safely seated and coffee had been delivered and sipped.
"Michelle please listen. I don't own you in any way except as two people give themselves one to the other. Anything else is just our individual nature expressing itself. I hope this last year has been as fulfilling for you as I have found it. But you are free to go your own way any time. It is your life and your body. I am an observer with an admitted keen interest in the outcome. But the decisions are yours."
They sat and talked for a couple of hours, when there was a slight tap on the door and the receptionist poked her head in.
"I'm about to leave Ms Williams. Mr Fleiss has already left. Do you need anything?"
"Thank you no Vanessa. See you tomorrow. I'll lock up."
They sat there and talked. Ordered pizza and coke. Ate and talked. "...so yes I think that I do need to complete things. Um... now that I have the money and know that you approve I can go ahead. But apart from that nothing else changes. I want us to stay the same."
"Michelle I would be honoured to stay as your Mistress. You complete me in many ways and I think it's the same for you. So yes, Ms Katherine will stand by her Michelle." Both got to their feet and hugged the other.
"Come slave. Lets go home." With a big smile, a curtsey and a soft 'yes Ms Katherine' they locked up and left.
Over the next few months Michelle settled into her job and found she enjoyed it more than she expected. But perhaps that would have been true of the bank job as well, had she been Michelle from the start. She made friends and even went on a few girls nights out, though kept the sexual byplay to a minimum. She was already committed after all.
They researched as far as possible various surgeons and the differences in technique. Finally settling on Thailand. If she took holidays near the end of the year, she was eligible for 3 weeks. With the office closed for 3 weeks over Christmas and New Year. That would mean a 6 week break. Perfect.
They visited Dominica's several times over the next few months. A more casual air prevailed than at the expose. Doms got together and chatted while the subs mixed and discussed their Master or Mistress preferences and how they came to be here. Most of the stories were not dissimilar to her own. But a few were sad and pitiful. One was horrible. But she could do nothing.
Later when she told Kate and asked if anything could be done Kate had replied that the police had been brought in some time ago. After several court appearances and counselling sessions it was determined that it was consensual and no action would be taken.
Michelle shivered with the realisation that she could have been in a similar situation and was extremely thankful she had found Ms Katherine.
Two months before they were due to leave they paid another visit to Mr Abraham. Kate had explained that the plate and rings had to go. At first Michelle had been upset and asked if a new 'female' version could be fitted. Kate had explained that due to the necessity of an internal catheter fitting to allow urination the possibility of infection would be too high to be practical. Reluctantly she had acquiesced. Mr Abraham using a hydraulic cutter removed the rings then after a mild anaesthetic cut and covered the 8 holes. Michelle insisted the other 3 stay. Kate was unexpectedly pleased. By the time they were due to leave the small scars were almost invisible.
As the jet took off Michelle asked, "So the first 3 weeks for me with you sitting in the hotel nearby. Then where?"
"Well I thought seeing how close we are we could spend 10 days each in Phuket and on Phi Phi island. Put some money back to the locals after the Tsunami of a year ago. I hear it's really beautiful despite what happened back then."
"That sounds lovely, thank you for everything." Reaching over she took Kate's right hand and kissed the palm gently then locking their fingers together settled back in her seat. Kate was momentarily stunned then smiling widely and with a tear in her eye settled back herself.
I like these guys, so a final Part 3 is percolating gently to round out a trilogy. ... Should be ready soon.
Any thoughts or comments I can be contacted - [email protected] Anything short of abuse welcome.
Old acquaintances and faces from the past. Choices are not always simple.
People are complicated.
This can be read as a stand alone, but as it does back reference to events
in the first two...well...
Tina Marie and Vickie, thanks for the support. It is appreciated.
This is a work of adult fiction.
No resemblance to reality should be inferred or expected.
Copyright KLS 2006.
People are Complicated Pt 3 - Final.
By Kristina.L.S.
1. Happenstance
Andie sat back in her chair and tried to understand what had taken place over the last few hours. With a rueful smile she acknowledged a degree of flusteredness that she seldom felt at work. That probably wasn't a word but it fit anyway.
The morning had started quite normally. A quick check to make sure everyone was on top of things. Progress to ongoing work was where it should be and a check via Jen to Gale that anything new or upcoming was scheduled for. Jen sent diary entries where appropriate and after ticking off the week in the rough outline they operated with, each settled back to get rid of backed up paperwork. Whoever coined the term paperless office should probably be taken to a recycling factory and thrown in the paper bin. He or she would be smothered under tons of ex office paper in seconds. Then shredded and recycled to end up back in some office copier and probably cause a jam. Poetic justice.
Time/costing sheets per account or individual job for invoicing and salary breakdowns. Job outlines so she could keep track of who had to do what and when to keep things flowing smoothly. It was after 12 when she looked up and stretching decided to break for lunch.
One way to kill a morning.
She did a quick round for sandwich orders and phoned through to the deli 2 blocks down. A couple of phone calls to fill in the wait and do a quick follow up on an outside order. She grabbed the cane basket for the sandwiches and waved to Jen as she headed out. Daydreamed as she walked. Kate and Michelle were in Thailand and the op had gone well. Another week and they'd start the serious lazing on the beaches. She smiled to herself thinking about the twist of fate that relationship had been. After her own angst ridden soul searching...
Her thoughts turned to Shelley. The gorgeous blond that now owned her heart. She had more sexy lingerie than most stores because Shel loved her in it. As long as it wasn't the scratchy stuff she was happy to oblige. It was one of the perks after all. Shelley loved quality and quantity. She laughed to herself with a slight blush as she wondered what the reaction of the people she passed if they knew what was under her baggy jeans and silk blouse.
'Hmm, that corner shop is nearly finished. The renovations had been going for a couple of months. It seemed they were getting a florist.'
A slim woman with short, red, razor cut hair was chatting to a painter about the final design for the window. As she looked up Andie stopped dead. With a slight flutter to the stomach a big smile crossed her face.
"Cassie, you're looking good."
The redhead turned and looked at her.
"Do I know you?" her expression was vaguely puzzled. There was something familiar about this woman. But she couldn't for the life of her figure from where.
"It's Andy. Well, Andrea actually." The smile stayed as she stood a few feet away holding the big cane basket and gazing gently at this face from the past.
"ANDY! Oh my god, look at you. You're..! Hot Damn, you look fantastic! A whole lot better than the last time I saw you that's for sure." She practically jumped on the taller woman and wrapped her in a hug that almost broke ribs. With tears in her eyes she kissed both cheeks then held Andie at arms length to get another look.
"Are you, um? You know the, ah, ...everything? Hell, you said Andrea. I guess that means...? Phew I'll have to give Rob a call. She will be thrilled. We have to get together. You, um, you don't blame us for what happened do you? When you disappeared we didn't know what to think, and well..." She looked saddened by past memories.
"Oh Cass, come on. I was having a blast with you two. As you can see it made a lasting impression. Nothing was your fault. In fact you probably saved my life. If you hadn't come looking when you did..." With a slight shrug Andie pulled the other woman close and returned the hug with a soft kiss to her cheek.
"Uh, look I have to run, but are you here for a while? Sandwich order." She waved the basket.
Cassie laughed, "Are you kidding. I'll probably be sleeping here. Due to open on Wednesday and well... " She shrugged and smiled.
"Great. I'll come down after work and we can talk while you do whatever. I might even help if you ask nicely." They both laughed and hugged tight for a moment. Then split to continue with the business of the day.
With a bounce in her step and a sudden lightness of heart she headed to the deli, chatted for a minute with Beth as the order was checked and assembled, paid up and strolled back daydreaming about past friendships and the possibility of renewal.
As she came in the door an arm grabbed her about the waist and lifted her from the ground. A loud squeal brought every eye to the tableau in the doorway.
"Hi there cutie. I don't believe we've been formally introduced. Jonathon McNeil, ace photographer and occasional scribe to the powerful and insane. Where's that little pipsqueak of a boss of yours. I have a spare week or two and I'm sure he needs my perceptive eye to save a tragically endangered campaign for him." With a self-mocking laugh and a kiss to the cheek he dropped Andie back to her feet. She had recognised the voice, which is the only reason he could still walk without limping.
It had been, what, 3 years since he had last graced the Agency with his undoubted talent and outrageously over the top ego. A sort of English aristocrat with the manners and charm to match. If Hugh Grant had been taller, fitter, arrogantly certain of his irresistibility to women everywhere and utterly convinced of his own invincibility that would be Jonathon McNeil. He could walk through a fire-fight stopping to take pictures without a scratch. His fame was assured when he had brought back images of destruction, poverty and cruelty coupled with an interview with several of the warlords after the debacle in Mogadishu. Fifteen years spent in every hell hole from Rwanda to Bosnia to Sierra Leone and Gaza had not embittered him. But get him drunk and talking he would gaze sombrely into some remembered pit of hell and describe in a soulless monotone scenes of depravity and horror to make Dante squirm. When not strolling through the worlds 'trouble spots' he dabbled in fashion work. Something that amused and delighted him.
He had a critical and unusual sense of what would work. If they had something that fitted he got a job or two when around. His style did not lend itself to all comers but was great when fitted to a designer or campaign that needed a gritty journalistic look. Andy had worked with him twice. Once as a junior up and comer and several years later as head of creative. They had become friends. Here he was again, the three bags on the floor confirmed her guess that he had come straight from the airport. Typical.
With an amused glint in her eye she gently disentangled herself, "Excuse me Mr McNeil, I'll see if that pipsqueak, ah, Mr Williams is available. One moment."
As Andie walked across to Jen his gaze drifted speculatively to several of the women in the room. It was returned with equal interest from more than one.
"Jennifer, Mr McNeil is looking for Andrew. Is he about?"
Suppressing a smile, "Oh, I believe he is over with Gale discussing that new campaign. I'll buzz him if you like, Andrea."
"Thank you. Would you please?" The background snickers had begun and wide smiles adorned every face. Jen pretended to talk into the phone while watching Andie, as she delivered lunch orders, and Jonathon. A moment later Andie spun about and with a pronounced seductive strut walked across, linked arms with Jonathon and led him across the room.
"I'm sorry Mr Williams is tied up for a while. He asked if you would wait in his office. He won't be long." The background laughter got slightly louder and Jen and Andies smiles got wider.
"Jen would you buzz Gale and let her know who I've got here?"
"Sure thing boss."
"Come on big boy. Let's have a cup of tea and chat shall we."
The laughter increased and Jonathon began to realise he was the butt of some private joke. Suddenly he stopped and looking at Jen, "Boss?"
His expression darkened then swivelled between Jen and Andie as the laughter got louder. His eyes narrowed as he looked closely at Andie then a slightly embarrassed smile crept across his features.
" Damn. Dirty pool Andy, uh, Andrea was it. You could have said something."
"Now where's the fun in that stud. Come on in and lets talk. Would you like a tea or coffee? And Andie is fine Jonathon."
With a sharp glint suddenly hitting his eyes he jumped forward and lifting Andie swept her off her feet and bending her slightly backwards proceeded to kiss the creative director deeply and thoroughly. Probably a minute later both were back upright and slightly flushed.
" Ah, sorry Andy I shouldn't have done that. Oh hell. Yes I should, that was fun and most enjoyable. One all I'd say. Wouldn't you old thing?"
Still blushing slightly Andie straightened herself.
"Well, um, I will say your reputation is well earned." That brought the chuckles up to full laughter.
"Yes, definitely one all. But not so much of the 'old thing', speak for yourself eh Jonathon. Come on in, let's talk."
They chatted as Andie made coffee for both and then settled, "Straight black? Ick. You don't mind if I eat do you?"
" Not at all, go ahead." A shrug and soft snort, " Well, you hang about with military types for any amount of time you can learn to drink mud. This is ambrosia by comparison. So tell me... ", he waved in Andies general direction with a quizzical expression on his face.
"Um. Long story. Suffice to say I'm happier and more comfortable with myself now. After a bit of pain both emotional and physical I arrived at the simple conclusion that this is me, more so than before. I am, in simple terms, no longer fighting myself. And people tell me I'm more ah, centred."
With a thoughtful nod Jonathon looked her up and down and smiled. "Yes that sounds about right for the short version. The old Andy would never have pulled the equivalent of that stunt before. Nor accepted the riposte in like manner."
He rose and with a slight bow offered his hand, "Pleased to meet you Andrea my dear." He lightly kissed the proffered hand raising another blush and with a gentle smirk, " The cutie remark stands by the way. I would be more than happy to become friends with Andrea. Perhaps dinner and the long version. I find this fascinating and more than a touch intriguing. You challenge my masculine ego. I liked Andy and I think I will like Andrea even more. So a dress up dinner, soon?"
With a small, slightly bemused smile and a light blush," Yes I would enjoy that. But you must know I'm spoken for. My lady love might object to some jet-setting playboy getting fresh with her girl."
"Ah well. Perhaps all the more reason to introduce the debutante to the feminine pleasure of a gentleman suitor and escort to fashionable eateries and au courant venues about town."
Andies laugh was full but gentle. "You are an absolutely incorrigible misogynist rogue. Dinner is a nice thought. Any more and I think Shelley would insist on escorting me at least. Push too hard and she might remove pieces of your anatomy you would probably miss."
He laughed loudly and quickly, "Shelley sounds like a fun girl. I will look forward to meeting her." Rubbing his hands he gazed speculatively at Andie until she looked down. The slight smirk was missed by her and gone as she looked back.
"Oh yes. I will enjoy meeting Shelley. I like a challenge and competition adds spice to the quest. Now, to business. Anything in the works over the next month or so that I can save for you?"
With a soft mumble, just loud enough to be heard, and a gentle smile, "Arrogant bastard."
Then back to normal level," Gale should be across shortly. I'm sure we'll work something out for your inestimable talents to salvage for the mere mortals that toil in cringing awe of your august presence."
Laughing as he shook his head slightly, " Oh very good Andrea. I will enjoy seeking the key to milady's most generous heart."
The banter continued back and forth as Andie ate her lunch. Ten minutes later Gale walked in with a brisk, "Hello John. We may just have a possible Andie."
Forty five minutes later they had a rough idea of what would work and how to make use of the sudden arrival of John McNeil; "Jonathon, if you don't mind."
"Ok Andie, that sounds like a plan. I'll sick Cath on them and we'll have the account by weeks end. Then what, 10 days to a probable 4 shoots?"
"Yes, that will work. Talk to you later about the details Gale. I'll get Dave and Linda to work up a rough outline for Cath to take with her. Tomorrow lunch be soon enough? ... Ok good. Once we have the go ahead a full game plan will be ready by Tuesday next, with a probable 'go live' Thursday or Friday as long as we can get permits for any outside shoots. Yes should be good."
Gale nodded to both. "I'll leave Andie to work out the details. She can be the liaison to you John, sorry, Jonathon. See you next week. ...Andie."
"So Jonathon now that you've disrupted my next 2 weeks I need to get to work. Where are you staying so I can get in touch?"
"Well actually old thing...I don't have a place sorted until the weekend. I'll grab a motel or something and let you know. Is there anywhere close?"
"Well, we have a couple of spare rooms at home. You could stay with Shel and me for a few days. I know she'll just love you. Obnoxious macho photographers are a personal favourite."
"That sounds too delectable to pass up. I will be delighted to meet the 'lady love' of my transient employer ...thank you Andie. I will do my best to contain my more indelicate masculine tendencies. I am sure two lovely examples of the gentler sex will have a civilising influence on this unreconstructed misogynist. Just one thing love. Where do you live, hmmm?"
Chuckling Andie pushed over a card and 2 keys, "That's the address, fat key is the security lock. Smaller key is our door. I'll get a message to Shelley so you don't stumble over each other if she gets back before me. I'll be along about 7, 7.30. I have a reunion with an old friend. Make yourself at home, there should be food enough if you're hungry. Spare room has the Doisneau print on the wall. We'll talk later. Now buzz off so I can get started on this campaign of yours. Old Thing."
"Thanks ducky. But don't hurry on my account. I'll probably crash for about 5 hours. A 15 hour flight does tend to tax the old stamina. But a revue by you and Shelley will see me right in no time. Good hosts as I'm sure you are. Revive a tired old man in no time." The innocent expression was ruined just a little by his bouncing up and down in his seat.
Gently shaking her head Andie sighed melodramatically, " Jonathon, Jonathon. At your advanced age and obviously weakened condition it would be too much for you. We would be remiss if we allowed such a thing. No, for your own good such displays will remain private."
"Ah. I'll just have to work on it then. Righto I'll be off. Talk to you tonight Andie." With a loud chuckle he headed for the door.
Head shaking gently and a small smile fighting not to grow Andie called in Dave, Linda and Jen. She picked up her mobile and dialled Shelley's number, started plotting rough outlines and likely phone calls as it rang. "Hi hon, guess what..."
The afternoon drifted as her thoughts wandered. Good and bad memories from High School, Cassie and Rob and others.... Then Jonathon, from their first meeting through to today and ..that kiss. She could feel the blush ..again. Back and forth. Laughing silently she acknowledged that she had gone as far as she could at the moment. A quick check on Dave and Linda's progress and then bid good night.
"Everything on track? Great, thanks guys. See you tomorrow."
Time to catch up with an old friend.
She parked next to the corner and walked into the shop. Cassie was wearing an old men's business shirt and baseball cap as she rolled paint up a wall. By the look of it part of that one and then another she would be finished. The radio playing classic hits had masked the sound of her entrance and Andie watched for a minute as Cass casually but skilfully applied the paint finishing the last couple of metres.
"Very stylish Cass. Pale green freckles go with your hair."
She jumped slightly at the unexpected interruption, then poked her tongue out as she recognised the source. "Oh Ha Ha. And it's 'forest verdure' I'll have you know. Pale green indeed! The very idea. This is, well it will be, a stylish establishment. Artistic floral arrangements of class and distinction. No common mucky greens that's for sure."
Both were laughing, "Oh excuuuse me. Please forgive this ignorant peasant. Do you need a hand with anything or will I wander down and grab a couple of coffees each, something to nibble as well if you like."
"Thanks Andie. I'll just do this last wall in, pale green, and then we can sip and catch up. About half an hour. Just coffee would be great."
Cass was just scrubbing some paint off her face as Andie returned with the coffees. She turned and watched the other woman as she deposited them on the counter top, pulled two and put two next to the microwave. Then dropped a pile of sugars and stirrers.
"Coffee's up. So Cass how do you come to be here, it's been almost 9 years. It was a pleasant shock to see you this morning."
"You got a shock! Huh, a strange woman suddenly announces herself and then I realise it's a guy I knew at school." She got pensive for a second," You know that thing with me, Rob and you started as bit of a joke. You were always alone and we thought it would be fun to get you out with us. The 'girl' thing started as a bet between us that you wouldn't do it. We were just seeing where it would go but it became more than that. For all of us I guess. I hope you're happy. We both liked, like, you a lot. You seem good, are you?"
"Yes, on the whole I'm good. I have a job I love, a few friends and a woman I share with that I love and who loves me. Things could be a lot worse." This last said with a big smile and a slight shrug.
"Woman huh. So little Andie's a lez now. Well whatever makes you happy. I'm glad for you."
"So Cass, the shop?"
" Oh. Well you remember Col, the school tough guy?"
Andie nodded, she did indeed remember him, a slight frown crossed her face.
"Ah, sorry, you weren't particularly friendly were you? Anyway, a year out of school we hooked up and married a year later. No kids thank god. He turned all hard arse businessman. Ended up with 5 lighting shops. Doing pretty well. But didn't care about anything else..."
She shrugged, "Anyway I found out he was messing about, so... we split. He settled and I got one of the shops. Sold it back to him at a good price and..."
With a theatrical wave, " This is mine. I worked in a florist through high school, learned the ropes and did an evening business course to learn to run things. So I guess I'll find out if I can now."
Andie laughed, " I'm sure you'll do fine Cass. You always were a go-getter. You'll be a flower mogul in no time I bet." They both laughed at that, sat in restful silence for a minute and sipped coffee.
After a minute Andie roused, " So what's Rob up to these days? I assume you guys keep in touch. You were inseparable at school, but that could have changed. From what you said this morning though you do keep up..."
"Yep, sure do. We're still best friends. She got married a few years back. Kevin's a lovely guy. Dotes on her something fierce, lucky cow. She's 6 months along with their first. They're both glowing with pride and health, it's sickening!" She laughed loudly and Andie chuckled. "Anyway a little girl will be along in a few months time, everything looks good, they can't wait. She drags me along shopping for baby clothes and strollers and... Aarrrrggghhh. It's just sad to see." The smile took the edge off her words.
Andie smiled at the wistful expression on Cass' face. "Methinks my lady protests a little too much."
"Yeah ok. I'm jealous. If she wasn't my best friend I'd push her under a bus or something just to wipe that silly grin off her face. Nobody deserves to be that happy, it's just not right. Actually I'm thrilled for both of them, they deserve it. Kevin's a mechanic and specialises in re-conditioning older cars. Owns his own shop and has 5 guys working for him. Doing pretty well. Rob does the books and plays secretary. It's a happy little family. All the guys are great and would kill for Kev or Rob. Sigh... I'll just mope for a minute Ok."
They both laughed again and chatted for an hour sitting on the floor on a rolled up drop cloth. Re-heated the 2 remaining coffees and sipped as they bounced thoughts and histories back and forth. A little after 7 they called a halt and as Cass checked the rear door and switched off lights, Andie cleaned up the coffee stuff and dumped it in the bag against the counter. They hugged tight for a minute and agreed to hook up for a big dinner in the next few weeks, all five of them. As she locked the front door Andie beeped the car door locks.
"Ooohh, an Audi, nice. You are doing Ok aren't you? My old Golf is around back. Mind you after Kevin did a job on it, it looks and drives better than new." They hugged and kissed again and waved as they parted.
'Ok let's get home and see if Shel and Jonathon have killed each other yet.' She smiled softly as the car started.
2. Possibilities
"Hey hon." Andie dropped her keys and bag on the corner table and gave Shelley a quick hug and a light kiss. Smiling she looked at the papers Shel was reading through, she raised an eyebrow in question. "That looks official, light reading before supper?"
Shelley rolled her eyes and grinned, "Wouldn't say light, but official, yep. It's the business proposal for the lingerie shop. Only a couple of other girls want in now so it's grown to a string of 4 instead of 1. This is the outline of separation and interaction. Who controls what, breakdowns of probable expenses and projected returns. All being well if we all sign on the dotted line things will be running and in the black by mid-year. Necessary reading, but, ...ughh, pretty dry stuff. There's a stir-fry simmering and a bottle of Verdelho open if you want one. I'll go a refill."
She stretched and stood, "So how was it meeting your old school friend? From what you've said in the past, must have been some mixed emotions. Reminiscing is not always pleasant." She pushed her open fingers into the hair at Andies right temple, gently brushed outward and then cupped her cheek as she kissed he lover gently on the left. "You seem happy so I guess it was fine, I'm glad. So tell me everything." She wrapped her arm around Andies waist and led the way to the kitchen.
As Andie checked the dinner Shelley poured herself a refill, grabbed a glass and poured another. They stood leaning against the kitchen bench sipped and tasted.
"I take it our hero is sleeping. Have you met yet? He's an, um, interesting guy."
"Nope not a peep. Well he cried out once about an hour ago but nothing since. A bad dream I guess. I suppose he's seen a few things that might cause those from what you told me. We need to restock on cheese and crackers, but otherwise I wouldn't know he was here."
She smirked and poked Andie in the ribs, "An interesting guy huh. Lookin' for a little boy on girl action hon? Try the other side as it were. Only if I get to watch." They both laughed but a slightly pensive mood settled very quickly.
Shelley cocked her head to the side and looked closely at Andie. "Seriously hon. If you are attracted to him and want to, ah, see. I, well, I won't say I wouldn't mind 'cause I will, But as I've said before. If you need to find out...Hell, just talk to me and we'll work it through."
Andie flashed back on the morning as Jonathon had kissed her. She flushed and saw the slightly sad smile flick across Shelley's face. "Shelley... I don't know. We were joking around this morning and well, he kissed me. It felt great. Different, but great. I can't imagine happily ever after, I love, am in love with you. But..."
"Shhshh... hey it's ok. Even if you wanted to, you can't hide your feelings. You liked the guy when you were Andy. Now there's a whole other dimension added. One you have never explored. Maybe to be complete you need to. He's here for the next 4 days so we'll see where it goes. As long as we're honest it will be fine." The gentle words and accompanying hug masked the flicker of fear in Shelley's eyes.
" I better finish reading, then you can fill me in on Cass and co." She headed out before Andie caught her expression.
"Ok. I'll get the rice on, about twenty minutes." She bustled about and then set the table for 3. A tickle of fear and anticipation flicking through her thoughts.
They sat and ate. Chatted about the 'reunion', past events and current histories. The get together dinner plans. Shelley's business plans. Jonathon did not get a mention. They were sitting curled together on the lounge when a cough brought their attention to the man in the lounge entrance.
"Evening ladies, sorry to intrude. I suppose I was a tad more tired than I thought." He ran his fingers through his hair and stretched. Extending his hand he walked across the room. "You must be Shelley. Delighted to meet you." Shelley disentangled herself and reached to him, he clasped her fingers and kissed the back of her hand, nodded to Andie, "You've done well here Andie, thank you both for having me in your home."
Andie stood, "There's some Thai style chicken and rice if you fancy anything. A glass of wine?"
He nodded, "Thank you to both, that would be lovely."
As Andie busied herself, Shelley tried to size up their guest. Tall and trim. At a glance you could think 'foppish Englishman'. But his ease of movement and alert eyes showed he was tougher and fitter than that. She thought she might like him as well. 'Did that hurt or help as things stood?' with a silent sigh she rose to sit at the table and chat as he ate. They all sipped their wine and 'politely conversed'.
As Andie went to the kitchen to rinse the bowl and get the bottle he smiled at Shelley and nodding to the kitchen, "You may be right about my intentions. But even if I succeed she will still be here with you after I'm gone again. Don't make more of it than it is. She's curious and scared, a little like a 16 year old girl. If it goes anywhere at all I will treat her well. You have my word. I liked Andy and I like Andrea even more. I don't want to be your enemy. Or damage what you have. If you'd rather I leave, I will."
She gazed into his eyes and shook her head a fraction, "No. That would solve nothing. It has to be her choice, either way. I hope you're right, you probably are. But..."
Further discussion was switched to the business plan as Andie came back into the room. She glanced from one to the other and seemed satisfied they were getting on.
Topics ranged from Shelley's recent assignments to Andies current projects and Jonathon's wanderings. Global politics, economics and religion got a mention. Sexuality and the intermingling currents that flitted about the table did not.
As they rose to retire Jonathon asked if anyone would mind if he had a quick shower. Shelley responded that the end bathroom was 'his' for the moment, that they shared an en-suite. With a nod of thanks he addressed Andie, "I know you run in the mornings. Do you mind if I join you? I need to stretch a little."
"Sure, see you at 6." They both smiled and shook their heads at Shelley's groan of incomprehension.
"Mad the pair of you." She rolled her eyes and taking Andies hand, "Come on hon. Five hours is short enough before you go running off with this maniac. Night Jonathon."
"Night, Jonathon."
"Goodnight ladies, see you tomorrow."
Andie began to strip as Shelley cleansed her face, tucking her hair under a cap she walked into the bathroom. Her eyes met Shels in the mirror and the faint edge of pain?, fear?, could be seen. Wrapping her arms around the others waist she kissed the side of her neck gently.
"Don't worry hon. You are all I need or want. I like Jonathon, but I don't need to sleep with him."
Shelley stood silent as she finished wiping the cream form her face. Turning in the embrace she gently cupped Andies face and kissed her lips tenderly.
"Andie, I love you. I don't want to share you. But it has always seemed to me that you need to, at least once, try things from the hetero side as it applies now. That has to be your decision, but don't toss away the possibility just because I might hurt a little. We are stronger than that. A quickie with a mad photojournalist won't destroy it. Let your feelings guide you. Whatever you choose I will be here for you always. Now come on a quick rinse off and then snuggle up time, for a few hours anyway." The roll of the eyes and gentle smack lightened the mood as they stepped into the shower.
A few minutes later Shel was pulling on soft drawstring pants and cotton cami as Andie pulled the silk top and loose leg knickers to match. Flicking off the lights they cuddled up and kissed goodnight. Each had thoughts turning around the same subject. The perspective was however somewhat different.
The alarm buzzed softly at 5.55. Andie slapped it off and slid out of bed stripping her bedclothes off as she moved to the bathroom. Tied her hair in a loose plait, pulled on the sport bra and brief, light track pants ankle socks and running shoes. Tied the keys in the drawstring. Shelley was watching as she came back in. The look on her face almost made Andie go back to bed. The slight shake of the blonde head as she turned away set her back on track. A quick glass of multi V and a few gentle stretches to loosen the muscles. A soft scuff caused her to turn as Jonathon walked into the kitchen. Close fitting sleeveless grey T and light navy track pants over runners. His lean athletic build was obvious.
'Not bad for a 42 year old she thought.' She waved the bottle as he shook his head.
With a gentle half smile, "Shall we my lady, the road awaits." Smiling in return Andie lead the way as they headed out the door.
The route was a nice 6k mish-mash of hills, dips, flats, stairs and gentle up and down slopes. As he didn't know it Jonathon kept with Andie and gently pushed her pace. No doubt about it she thought, he was fit. Hardly sweating or breathing heavy after a run that usually pushed gently at her limits. He might be more than ten years older but she had to admit he was definitely fitter. With a nice feminine glow she entered the foyer. Glow hell, she was sweating like a pig. He was lightly damp, centre chest and underarms.
'Insufferable bastard'.
They headed for the showers as Shelley chuckled at their appearance and smiled beatifically, sipping coffee, as they dribbled past. Half an hour later they sat and chatted as muffins, juice and coffee was consumed. Andie readied herself for work. Shelley got ready for agent and accountant meetings. Jonathon had editor and agent meetings set up. As they all headed out Andie and Shelley kissed lightly and said their goodbyes.
Jonathon stopped and kissing Andie, "See you later cutie." Shelley just watched silently as Andie blushed and Jonathon smirked.
They all headed out. Each with vastly different images and possibilities in their head.
3. Potential
With her thoughts running in circles Andie's day seemed to take longer than normal. The proposal for Cath was passed along to Gale and she was confident it would do the job. Dave and Linda had done a great job as usual. A little real world tweaking as circumstance dictated and it would work well. Jonathon would have fun she was sure. She smiled picturing his reaction as the theme of beauty and style, amidst urban decay and social degeneracy was laid out. Slavering street toughs befuddled by the vision of classical elegance strutting through their midst. He would laugh delightedly she was sure, as he pointed out the unreal nature of their constructed scenes.
The feel of his kiss kept interposing itself into her thoughts as Shelley's words, belied by the pain in her eyes, drifted over and around. 'Did she want him. And if so what would that mean, now and later. Particularly if she followed where he would lead.' Confused and uncertain she volunteered for the sandwich order again, just to get out and clear her head and to stop in on Cass to see how things were progressing.
She stood and watched as a sign writer did a lovely design of vines and flowers intertwined around the name of, 'Cassandra, Floral Artistry', leaving a space in the centre to highlight a stand with a large vase sitting to show of the arrangement du jour. At least it would she guessed. 'Must be tricky doing that in reverse on the inside of the window'. She went in and called to Cass, who emerged from a small side room.
"Hey Andie. Just getting the cool room fitted out. Then some lighting...and.. hey presto, as soon as I get some stock in tomorrow I'll be up and running."
"That's great Cass. It all looks good. That window is fabulous. Nervous?"
"Hmmm a little, but more excited. This is mine. Not a shared thing or under someone's wing. All mine. I have a young girl starting on the Saturday and then a few afternoons after school, much as I did way back when. I feel all grown up and adult." She laughed and gave Andie a quick hug.
"Now all I have to do is get some customers. I have a few possibles lined up. So.." She shrugged but the smile didn't diminish at all.
She looked at Andie and frowned, "Are you ok? You look a little put upon."
Andie shrugged, " I'm ok. Just got a few things on my mind. I'm really pleased for you Cass. I'm on the lunch run again so I better go. I'll check in later today and see how it's going. See you then." They hugged and Andie headed off.
Cass watched for a moment as she left, 'something was bothering her.' Sighing slightly she turned to an electrician seeking her attention.
As she packed the sandwiches and checked the order Berth looked at Andie, "Tough day?"
"Hmm, sorry I was miles away?"
"I asked if you were having a tough day, you seem a little distracted."
"Oh. Yes we have a few things going on and I'm trying to juggle things and keep all the balls in the air. I'm having a little trouble."
"Never mind lovey. You'll sort it out I'm sure. You seem like a smart girl, if he's worth it, make up. If not say goodbye and find someone better." She had a smile on her face as she nodded to herself over her sage advice and placed the sandwiches in the basket.
Andie laughed slightly, " That transparent am I?"
"No hon. It's just that it's usually men that give us girls expressions like you're wearing. Old Beth's been around a while. It'll all work out though, you'll see."
Shaking her head but smiling at the same time, Andie paid up and bid Beth good-day. Her thoughts were still no clearer as to what she wanted. 'Ah well give it time. I'll work it out'. Chuckling to herself at echoing Beth she walked back to the office.
She played delivery girl and handed out lunch, then headed to her office. Jen talking on the phone gave a sharp sideways nod toward the door. Andie looked closer and could see Jonathon's head beyond the glass. Nodding thanks to Jen she went in.
"Hello Jonathon, checking up on us peasants?"
"Thought I'd take you to lunch old thing. But I see I'm too late. Ah well. So dinner tomorrow night then?"
"Yes that would be nice, thank you. By the way this is the outline we've worked out for next week. Have a quick look and see what you think. It should be right up your street. Don't laugh too much." She handed a folder across and he started flicking through as she ate.
Between mouthfuls she watched his expression as he skimmed the storyboard and matched the rough drawings to the outline. She could see a half smile and the gentle amusement in his eyes.
After about 5 minutes he dropped it on the edge of her desk and smiled widely, "Looks like fun Andie. Three afternoons. Wednesday, Thursday, Friday next week. You have the location set up I assume?"
"We have a place in mind that will work well. It will be confirmed, probably tomorrow. Then once we have the go ahead from Cath that she has a signature, everything will be finalised early next week. We'll be all ready for you don't worry."
"Oh I wasn't worried old thing. I have complete faith in you and your team here. It will be just as you say, I'm sure. I look forward to it. Even more to tomorrow night." He stood to leave.
"Must go, people to catch up with. I'll see you this evening then Andie." A small salute and he was gone.
Andie got up and headed out also, "Jen, just ducking across to see Gale. Be about 10."
"Sure thing Boss."
Andie knocked lightly on Gales door and as there was no one there headed straight in. She sat and waited for a minute as Gale finished reading the document she had open in front of her.
Waving it gently, "This is the proposal outline for Dave Watson, it looks good take it with you and get back to me with any thoughts. What can I do for you Andie?"
"Well Gale, you were saying a week or so back that the flowers we have in the foyers always look the same and that it might be time to try a different supplier. A friend of mine has just opened up down the block. I thought we could give her a shot and see how it goes. If you're happy and she wants it... well a win all round." Shrugging slightly she smiled as Gale nodded to herself.
"Is that the corner shop just up from the deli?"
"Yep that's the one. Her name's Cassie Davis, a smart, tough and sassy little redhead. You'll like her."
With a smile Gale nodded to Andie, "Ok. I'll go down and see her. We'll work something out and then if all goes well she has the account. Any friend of yours... Oldham's are getting stale, aren't they? Every one for the last 6 months has looked the same. For 2 displays, twice a week at 80 dollars each they don't seem to try too hard."
"Thanks Gale. She'll be all set up by tomorrow afternoon. So any time after that would be good. She's got a good eye. Between the two of you, our entrance ways will be looking much better, I'm sure."
They chatted for several minutes about upcoming and current work. Andie thanked her again and headed back to her office.
As far as work afternoons went this one was not especially productive. Time dragged and her thoughts wandered constantly. Not normally being a daydreamer made this more frustrating than it might otherwise be. Eventually, an hour after everyone else had left Andie packed it in. Sighing, she hit the lights and locking the door headed home.
Shelley was there with papers spread all over the study floor and desk. Andie quietly observed her for a minute as she read through a page. A small furrow on her brow showed her concentration. Leaning over and typing from a standing position, hit the print button and placed the new sheet into the stack, gathered everything together, shuffled and tapping it on the desk dropped it carefully into place and stretched backwards with a sigh. She caught sight of Andie and turned with a smile, "Hey hon, how was your day?"
Smiling widely Andie leant into a quick kiss. "Pretty good. How long have you been at that? You look like you've been wrestling something."
"Hmm. Close enough. Just my ideas for the final business proposal. It's only taken 5 hours. I intend to be in control of all 4 stores. The other girls can be silent partners. To be honest I can't see any of them getting very involved. The idea of it sounds good to them right now but I'm pretty sure that will fade as the reality of 'managing' sets in. I don't want it to fail due to lack of commitment."
She shrugged slightly and smiled at Andie, " This is for the legal types to turn into the appropriate words and semi-meaningless mumbo jumbo so I can pass it on to the others. All being well it should be done by the end of next week. Then, I start giving Elle McPherson a run for her money." They both laughed at that.
"Ok, maybe not. But it should work out. Just reading through that lot will give the others headaches. They'll all take the smaller percentage to avoid the paperwork. Minimal work at a distance will suit them better I'm sure."
Chuckling Andie shook her head gently, "My girl the business woman. Definite management material. I'm just the crash test dummy. Or is that lingerie Barbie. And here I thought you cared. Now I discover it's just a scheme to take over the
lingerie business. First the city then the state, then the worrrllldd."
Plucking open her blouse she exposed her bra, mock sobbing, "..these, I thought you cared. But they're just freebies aren't they. Easy to give away when they cost nothing. I'm just a stepping-stone on the way to your dynasty. I mean destiny."
They were both laughing as Shelley gently cupped one breast and squeezed softly, in a deep voice, "Ah my dear, 'twas inevitable. You are sweet but you don't fit with my future plans. I need a woman of style and elegance to match my status. Not an unworldly child."
Andie dropped to her knees, "Oh Shelley please don't abandon me. I love you, I, sniffle, sniffle, love you!" she hugged Shelley's legs as they both toppled slowly to the floor laughing.
"Ahem."
They both looked up with a mixture of amusement and embarrassment to see Jonathon standing in the doorway. His gaze took them both in with perhaps a little more attention to Andies open blouse and Shelley's hand still cupping the lace-covered breast.
Shelley and Jonathon both laughed as Andie blushed and fumbled to button her blouse.
"Don't do that on my account old thing, it doesn't bother me a bit." Both Shelley and Jonathon laughed again as Andies blush deepened.
"Insensitive brutes. Both of you", sniffed Andie in mock outrage.
Jonathon smirked and waved his hand airily, "I see you two are, um, busy. So I shall attend to the evening meal. I will call you to the table in about 1 hour. With your permission madams." He mimed a cloth over his forearm like an old fashioned butler and bowed deeply, straightened and walked stiffly upright to the kitchen.
Andie and Shelley both laughed and kissed each other gently. Taking Shels hand, "Give me a run through on the proposal hon. It seems we have an hour or so till dinner."
"Ok, but let's get a drink first. It's pretty dry stuff." She headed to the kitchen and checking red or white with the chef, selected, decanted and poured 3 glasses of French cabernet leaving a second bottle open to breathe. Jonathon hummed away to himself as Shelley returned to the study with 2 and clinking glasses they sat to run through the alternative proposal.
One hour and fifteen minutes later Jonathon appeared in the doorway wearing a tailored linen jacket in soft charcoal, a bow tie tied around his neck and a scruffy almost white t-shirt underneath over jeans and soft moccasins. Bowing he announced, "Madame, Madame, your dinner is served."
He led them to the table where 3 place settings were laid, set for three courses. He seated the ladies with appropriate courtesy. Then returned to the kitchen carrying 3 bowls with practiced skill, "The first course, a light beef consommé. Regrettably I was unable to fully prepare so the finest 'can' money can buy."
They smiled and tucked in as Jonathon sat and slurped loudly. Chatting easily when all had finished he rose and cleared the plates, returning a few minutes later with 3 plates on which lay, "..slightly braised fillets of grain fed beef", followed by bowls of, "sautéed potato's and pan fried spinach" and a small tureen of, "a light French onion gravy".
All three tucked in energetically, with approving comments from both women to the chef. He nodded graciously as it was of course his due. The final course was a soft peach sorbet, also the finest, packet in this case, money could buy. As a final top it off gesture he cleared the table and brought in fresh coffee and almond biscuits, stretched out as he slumped down in his chair and grinned as he burped quietly. The obvious acting out raised a laugh from all three.
Shelley raised her glass and toasted the chef as Andie seconded and reciprocated.
"Thank you Shelley, Andie, it was the least I could do for putting up, I mean putting me up, for a few days." His smile and twinkling eyes made it clear the slip was deliberate and meant in a semi serious, self-mocking way.
" So Andie are we still on for dinner tomorrow, I hope you don't mind me stealing your girl for the evening Shelley, but I was promised a dinner in return for saving her lovely neck at work."
Andie blushed and laughed gently so she missed the small frown that flitted across Shelley's face. Jonathon did not and raised his eyebrows in a silent question, to which Shelley gave a quick small shake of her head.
"Sorry hon, this, gentleman, ambushed me at work today and held a gun to my head to get me to agree to tomorrow night. Sorry we got sidetracked earlier, you don't mind do you?" She was smiling as she turned to Shelley, but it slipped a little as she caught a hint of, what, anger, in her face.
"No, of course I don't mind. I have plenty to still work out with the proposal and location leases and ...well. Don't worry about it." She tried to smile and appear nonchalant, but from the look on Andies face it wasn't totally convincing. "Seriously hon, it's fine. Just be home by midnight young lady."
The mood seemingly lightened they all switched to the lounge room where light music and pleasant conversation filled the time until they all called it a night.
4. Equilibrium
That morning Jonathon had asked her to be ready by 7 for a 'slap up dinner and perhaps a little flirty dancing', which she took to mean expensive meal, semi formal and an upper class club after, where he would do his best to lead her astray.
That thought, or train of thought, kept intruding itself all day. To make matters worse, like a nervous teenager she kept a running 'plot line' of possible scenario's of would he or wouldn't he and would she or wouldn't she. Then there was what to wear.
Damn him. She would get back to work and everything would be fine for a while, then her thoughts would wander and it would start all over again.
After a few hours Jen came in and sitting, "Ok Andie, what's up. You've been like a, ...hell I don't know, but you're driving me nuts. So what gives huh?"
Blushing slightly she blew out gently and outlined the 'problem'. Jen listened and tried to keep a straight face as her boss and friend laid out the dilemma she faced. To her credit she managed not to laugh, much.
"Dear oh dear, boss. Dinner with Jonathon. Wining and dining and dancing and romancing. Half the girls here would perform voodoo rituals to get an evening with him. But you.." , the laugh broke for a second as a muffled giggle.
"Um, sorry but you should just go and enjoy. He is a bit of a dish. I know you lack a little in the, ah, dating experience stakes, but he won't push too far. At least at first." She almost smothered another laugh.
"Oh fine. Just laugh then. Go on let it out." Jen just held her breath and shook her head from side to side with a pained expression.
Sighing Andie looked heavenwards and muttered, "why me?"
After a few minutes Jen got herself under control, "Sorry Andie it's just a little funny seeing a grown woman acting like a nervous kid. Though I can see the funny side I know it must be a little tough for you having never done this sort of thing from the girl side. In a way you are a kid at this. But you can handle it I'm sure. Just go with your feelings and trust yourself and Jonathon. He is not a slimy playboy although he does play it up just a bit. He likes you so I doubt he'll pull anything too underhand, but he probably will push a little." She grinned wickedly, " It's all part of the fun after all. So what's the problem beyond that... ...Shelley?"
"Yes I suppose. She says it's fine, go out and then if I want to...well you know. She will be ok. But I don't think she is ok with the idea. And I'm nervous as hell about things. If it feels right to, as you say go with the feeling, it's like all decisions. There's an up and a down. Or a left and a right and I'm standing in the middle looking first one way then the other and trying to balance myself." She shrugged and looked a little lost.
"I don't know what to tell you. I guess you have to believe that Shel can handle it if you spend a night with Jonathon. If you feel you want or need to do that I suppose it puts a bit of pressure on things. I've known her a while, she's pretty tough. But that is a hard one to deal with. She has thanked me several times for getting you two together. I didn't really do anything but she thinks I did. Quote, 'I owe you one Jen. I really love Andie and it's down to you for getting us together', end quote. So it might hurt her a bit, but if she says she can deal. I guess you have to trust your instincts and her."
"Oh gee, thanks so much Jen. That makes it all so much clearer."
"Well, not trying to be cold, but it comes down to what's right for you. If you need to try being a woman with a man, then that's what you need to do. If you and Shel are meant to be, you two will survive. If not. Well..." she shrugged and looked straight at Andie, "..a bit selfish maybe. But you have to be true to you first. Then look to those you love. If they do, they will accept. Here endeth the lesson." She smiled and took Andies hand, "Trust yourself you'll be fine." With a gentle squeeze she turned and went back to work.
Andie sat and stared into space for a minute, sighed deeply, "Shit." Mentally shaking herself, she tried to concentrate on work.
Boiling kettles or watched clocks, neither one does like it aught to. Rampant distracting thoughts. At 4.30 Andie gave up in disgust and checking a few details left for the day. Not that that helped much. The damn things just followed.
As the door swung shut behind her Shelley appeared from the study, "Hey hon, you're home early." Then with a sharp squint, "Are you okay, you look, flustered I suppose?"
With an exasperated sigh and a toss of bag to chair, "Oh I don't know. This whole thing with Jonathon has me all on edge. Dinner when he first asked seemed natural and nice. Now, it seems as though everyone has a different expectation as to who I am and how I should behave." She looked hard at Shelley, "We are in a relationship, yes? ...yet you seem to almost want me to go with Jonathon to, I don't know, complete my education as a woman or something. Sleep with him so I'll know how sweet and nice it is with a woman as opposed to a rough crude man." Andie paced back and forth as Shelley watched, torn between worry and amusement.
"Andie hon. I love you and want you here with me. But I think you need to explore your feelings for Jonathon or men in general. I've been there and done that, before we met. But you have only Kate and me to compare. One as a man, the other as a woman. It is not the same." She sighed and grabbed Andie in a gentle hug as her pacing brought her close. "Look hon, I am not thrilled to think about you and him...but I can see the conflict in you. It needs to be brought out and looked at. Then, if us is what you want; really want, you and I can go forward. Once you can truly make that choice knowing the alternative." The close hug and soft words masked the frown and glimmer of fear in Shelley's eyes.
"Go on. Go and get ready. Have a nice meal and a dance or two and come home and talk to me. Whatever time I'll be awake."
That got a wry grin, "Ok mum. I'll be a good girl for my date. You don't have to wait up." She just managed to dance away as the swat to her rear flashed past with a swish and a chuckle.
Had she looked back the look on Shels face would have stopped her cold. Pain and fear plainly evident.
A long hot shower to ease the tension and then decision time as she gazed into her closet. She half heard the greeting in the other room as Jonathon got 'home' and after a few pleasantries went to change. After choosing her dress and add-ons she sat to 'get ready'. Twenty minutes later she emerged, silk navy blue halter dress with smoky hose and navy stiletto sandals, matching clutch and pashmina draped over her arm. Jonathon stood and clapped twice softly.
Shelley looked her up and down, "Nice hon. You'd better go soon or I'll drag you back to the bedroom and make you forget dinner." Andie blushed as Shel and Jonathon laughed.
"Ah Andie, you look lovely. But I have no objection to Shelley's suggestion as long as I get to watch." The rapid up and down eyebrows caused a laugh as the words increased her blush. Shelley smiled ruefully as she laughed as well.
Taking a deep breath Andie tossed the keys to the Audi to Jonathon, "Ok stud. Lets do this right. Outside, wait a minute, then knock. You can act all dazzled and grateful when I open the door. Then I'm all yours for the evening." As the double meaning sank in she blushed again, as Jonathon laughed heading out the door and Shelley groaned and went into the kitchen. The knock on the door caused a flutter of nervousness. She greeted her date and Shelley waved them out with a, "Have a nice time. I'll go down the road to eat. See you two later."
Jonathon was the perfect gentleman, opened and closed doors, handed her in and out of the car. Took her arm and pulled her chair before the waiter could.
Shelley walked down the two blocks to the shopping strip and strolled aimlessly, trying to think about something other than Andie and Jonathon kissing and dancing. As she passed the open front bistro bar a voice called, "Shelley. It's been a while. Come and have a drink."
She looked to see a slightly plump but very attractive woman in a sharp black suit sitting at a roped off street edge table, sipping red wine. The slightly crooked smile was matched by the glint in her eyes.
"Hello Rachel. I'm ah...hell, it has been a while, sure."
Sensing her trepidation, Jonathon did his best to help Andie relax and hopefully enjoy the night.
Conversation was easy and after a while as she relaxed, very pleasant. The meal was excellent and the company equally so. Two hours later at a little after 9 they headed up the lift to the nightclub on the roof garden. Jonathon got them a drink as Andie staked a corner booth.
"Here you go Andie, Grand Marni' rocks with a splash, mineral for me, designated driver", he smiled softly, "Now. About that promised long version, hmm old thing." He sat back and sipped as he politely waited for Andie to gather her thoughts.
Two more drinks and an hour and a half later he knew more than almost anyone about the young woman sitting opposite. Smiling he stood, took her right hand and gently pulling, led her to the dance floor, "We're wasting a perfectly good band, a few slow ones to ease into things eh."
"Um, I've never done this before.."
"Don't worry. It's dead easy. Just relax and let me lead. Enjoy."
After the first couple, she did relax and enjoy. Another few slow ones then a couple of quicker things. Another drink, more dancing intermingled with shared thoughts and feelings. At a little after midnight they headed for home. Andie was just pleasantly mellow and Jonathon's arm around her waist felt comfortable and natural as they walked to the car. To any casual observer, just another couple after a nice evening out.
As he piloted them home Jonathon broached the subject that had been on his mind since Monday morning, "Andie, I have a cottage at a resort spa booked for Saturday through Tuesday night. It's only an hour from here. Come with me Saturday, I'll drop you back Monday morning for work. I really want to know you better, as more than a friend if you're willing."
She took a deep breath and blew it out very slowly, "Ohhh Boyyy. I, um, I'm tempted, but there's Shel to consider and I really don't know what I want to be with you... Let me sleep on that one, Ok. I'll let you know tomorrow night."
"Sure, I understand. The offers there and it makes no difference if it's one or two. But I would really like to share a weekend with you, see where it leads."
It was a thoughtful silence the rest of the way home. As they waited for the car park lift, "Andie?"
She pulled her thoughts back and turned, "Hmmm, sorry..." Straight into a deep embrace and a long and not quite tender kiss that lasted seemingly hours but was more like minutes. Flushed and panting very softly Andie turned and punched the lift button repeatedly as she tried to regain her balance. Jonathon's eyes glittered as a slight smirk settled on his face. Gently cupping her shoulders he leant forward and kissed the little bony knob at the base of her neck, "Thank you for a lovely evening Andie. I hope we can do more next time." He pressed softly against her back as the doors opened and she could feel his willingness to continue in a way that caused a small shiver to run up her spine and raise the hairs on her arms as though chilled. Gratefully? she stepped into the lift and pressed the button. The smirk was firmly in place and desire was clearly etched as he handed her the car keys and kissed her lips softly.
"Say yes. I think we both want to."
The doors slid open and she stepped across the hall and opened the door, Shelley turned in the lounge to greet them.
A soft kiss to the cheek, "Thank you for a nice night Jonathon, I'll let you know tomorrow." She missed the pained look that flashed across Shelley's face that was gone as she turned and bent to kiss her hello.
"I need to clean my face and get to bed, coming hon. Thanks again Jonathon."
She gave a rundown of the evening and her feelings as she wiped her face and got ready for bed. She could not read her lovers expression as they flicked out the lights and curled together, but she sensed a distance as Shel gave her a peck on the cheek with a soft, 'night hon' and pressed against her back.
They ran together with neither mentioning the night before, then went their separate ways for the day. One of the most frustrating and long days Andie had ever had.
Shelley listened to her thoughts and replied as she had before, "...it's your decision hon. I think you need this. I'll be here."
Finally she agreed to the idea and greeted Jonathon as he came in the door with a soft, "yes". He stopped for a moment and looked from Andie to Shelley and back, stepped and pulled her close, "Thank you." And kissed her deeply.
He looked at Shelley over Andies shoulder and nodded to her as she mouthed. 'treat her right'. With tears beginning in her eyes she went into the kitchen as Andie and Jonathon stood looking at each other and wondered what tomorrow would bring.
Andie came up behind Shelley as she stood staring out the kitchen window sipping a wine. Pulling her into a gentle hug, "Are you sure you're ok with this hon. I know what you said but I don't want to hurt you. Assuaging my adolescent curiosity is not worth damaging what we have." She could feel the tension in the taller woman and tried to ease it by contact.
With a deep sigh, "Oh Andie love, you need to do this. I'll be fine. Just come back Monday." She turned and with a quick peck on the forehead, " Let's get dinner."
The evening was slightly strained and they all retired early.
Shelley slowly and gently plied her lover and refused any attention herself as though trying to fix a memory in both their minds.
Saturday Andie nervously packed and repacked her overnight bag as Shelley half amused looked on. Finally at 4 PM Andie hugged and kissed her as though for the last time and headed downstairs where Jonathon held the taxi. As she headed through the door Shelley called, "Let me know...". She stopped and turned with a quizzical expression. Shel blew her a kiss and closed the door.
The driver dropped her bag in the boot next to Jonathon's and headed across town to the car rental place.
Shelley wandered aimlessly about the apartment for a while, opened a bottle of their favourite red and decided to get drunk. Two hours later, the bottle finished, she paced not quite steadily and then reached for her bag on the corner of the bench. She pulled out a red card and read the back. Tapped it against her teeth a couple of times, flicked it down on the bench top. Heading into the bedroom she changed quickly and grabbing her bag headed out the door. The stray thought flitted through, '..wonder what I can get for this place if I sell..'.
The car was not ready, had just been taken away to be cleaned. They had not been able to contact Jonathon, 'Two hours, we are sorry for the inconvenience. Please we will pay for a meal opposite while you wait."
Shrugging they left their bags and headed across the street to the café and settled for a late brunch or early dinner. A light meal 2 coffees and 2 hours later the manager came in and settled the account, letting them know the car was ready whenever they were.
For 2 hours Andies stomach had been fluttering up and down. She had only just managed to eat and felt the coffee churning around as tension built.
They stood beside their bags as Jonathon took the papers and keys.
"Nervous Andie?" He pulled her into a gentle embrace and kissed her softly on the lips.
5. Culmination
"Jonathon, I can't do this, sorry. Part of me wants very much to go with you and find out a few things that only doing can teach. But there's a still growing relationship here that will probably be hurt if I do. Shelley's tough. But where love is concerned she doesn't believe in herself. So please, go and relax and come back next week to work. I'll meet you then, ok?"
"Ah Andie, you disappoint an old man. But I understand the position your in. Shelley and I have an understanding of sorts on this. But I concede that she is not particularly thrilled at the prospect of you and I getting together. I think she's afraid of losing you." He shrugged slightly and took Andies right hand and brought it to his lips, kissing the knuckles, " Perhaps another time, eh old thing. I'll see you next week." He smiled, turned and walked to the rental car, climbed in and with a small salute drove away.
Andie watched until he turned the corner and disappeared. Sighing deeply she picked up her bag and hailed a taxi.
As soon as the door opened she knew no one was home. A corner lamp gave a warm glow and was the only sign of life. The empty bottle and single glass sitting on the coffee table caused a pang of sorrow and guilt. After unpacking her bag she headed for the kitchen, coffee sounded good. But a red card on the bench caught her eye. Curly writing on the back, 'Honeys 7 C U Rachel'. Andies heart jumped, Honeys was a gay bar. Specifically a lesbian bar, Shelley had told her more than once of her days trolling through such places and how impersonal and cold it could be. Sex was easy, but seldom fulfilling, usually empty and meaningless. If she had gone there she was hurting much more than she'd let on. Grabbing her wallet and keys Andie headed out again.
It was a 10 minute drive, she lucked a park only a block down. Locked the car and walked up, took a deep breath and went in. It was a dim, long room. A dance floor at one end with a few couples dancing slowly, a centre circle bar, tables spread throughout and deep curved booths lining the walls. She looped around the room slowly glancing to the booths as she passed. Fended off an advance from a big butch that intercepted her, "Sorry I'm looking for someone."
"Well sweet cheeks, if you don't find her come see Jackie. I'll get your juices flowing", she laughed loudly and returned to the bar. No one else had batted an eye. Half way along the far side she found her.
Shelley was on the way to being drunk. She sat, eyes closed, fondling the breast of the curvy brunette pressed hard against her. Who was in turn working her hand rhythmically under the short skirt of the tall blonde. Andie felt the blood drain from her face, as she stood staring at the pair. After perhaps a minute the brunette, 'Rachel' she wondered, opened one eye and glared at Andie.
"What are you staring at bitch. Fuck Off!"
Shelley blearily looked up and saw Andie standing beside the table. A flicker of emotion crossed her face and she frowned, " Well. Look who's here. What's up hon, boyfriend dump you already?" The voice slurring, she reached out and grabbed the glass of whatever, downing it in a gulp. Then glared at Andie.
"Go away. This is a bar for women. You don't qualify!"
The blood that was returning to her face fled, she gasped as though gut punched. She stood mouth open and only dimly aware of tears running down her face. The hostile gaze of several nearby women finally pushed through her numbed state. She turned and half stumbled toward the door pushing Jackie's attempted embrace aside as she passed.
It was a longer, bleary drive home and seemed to take hours.
The door clicked shut behind her. Dropping her wallet and keys to the floor beside her she half collapsed into the big chair in the darker corner. Tears flowed freely as sobs pushed up from somewhere deep. She sat only vaguely connected to the world, thoughts and feelings suspended. Dimly registered another soft bong from the mantle clock, so at least half an hour. Tears began again slowly as her mind replayed the scene and the words from the bar. She stared blankly into space and tried not to feel.
A slight scratching, bumping noise at the door brought her focus and eyes down and across. It swung open and Shelley lurched in dumping her keys and bag and headed for the bedroom, checking one, then the second. A sob echoed down the hall and a minute later she walked lead footed back to the lounge. Standing there with tears running down her face and swaying slightly, mumbling softly, "I'm sorry. I'm sorry." Her eyes roamed the room aimlessly, seeking an answer to an unasked question.
Then, squinting she made out a vague outline in the corner," Andie. Oh god, I'm sorry. Forgive me... please." Sobbing she stumbled across the room and kneeling on the floor hugged her lover tight around the knees and wept into her lap.
"Please Andie, if I could unsay it I would. I was hurt and jealous and feeling abandoned. You should hate me for...what I said. When I saw your face... the pain in your eyes... I wanted to die. I won't blame you if you leave. Just know I love you. Whatever you... decide, I love you, I always will. Please..." The sobs came steadily and tears soaked Andies jeans. She was crying steadily herself and slowly lifted her hand to Shelley's head and brushed the cheek she could see.
"Sshh. Come on hon. I'm supposed to be the soft one here. It's ok Shel. I'm not going anywhere, come on hon please, enough now. We'll be ok...ssshhh."
After several minutes Shelley shifted and sitting back on her calves looked searchingly at Andies face. Her lovely face was blotchy and her makeup ruined, pain and sadness clearly showing. She lifted her hands from Andies knees and wiped her face roughly.
"Oh hon it's my fault. I knew you were unsure about ..everything, but I thought you needed to know and that I could handle it. I guess I was wrong. When I saw you standing there I was ashamed and angry and happy all at the same time. I think I can guess what happened with Jonathon and then I throw it in your face when you show you care." She took a deep breath and settled herself.
"Jonathon knew that you would come back. That if anything happened between you it would only be a short...fling, I suppose. But I 'knew' that he would take you away, you would be his and once that happened, no matter how sad it made you, you could not be unfaithful to that and we would be over. Much as I tried to rationalise that it was your choice to make...needed to make on your own...I. I couldn't handle it...When I bumped into Rachel, I thought, ok, good for one... Childish huh. Even sitting there in the bar I had to get drunk...I kept picturing your eyes looking at me sadly, I couldn't feel...anything. And then there you were...and I said the most hateful thing I could to get back at you... to hurt you for hurting me."
She took another breath and looked into the gentle amber eyes looking down at her, the pain seemed to have settled, but not gone. Would it ever? She tried to read them without success. She had to trust on her knowledge of who Andie was and that they did indeed have a love for one another.
"Andie, I love you. Know, that that is true. I hurt you badly. Lashed out in pain and fear of losing you. I know you can't forget what was said, but please know I truly did not mean it. You are the most beautiful, amazing, giving person I have ever known. I do love you, otherwise I could not, would not, have tried to hurt you like that. It shows, in a fucked up sort of way, how deep you get to me." Her face twisted in a rueful, crooked smile and she shook her head sadly.
"Shel, I know you love me. I love you more than I can say. I found that card on the bench and knew how much you had to be hurting to go there...so. I went to let you know I was here, with you, not Jonathon. I won't deny that image in the booth hurt and your words hurt a lot. But the contempt on the faces of those close enough to hear what you said. That made me realise how someone like me is seen by some. Perhaps many. I am who I am. So I have to deal with those feelings. To believe in you and a few others makes it easier. Without you it would be so much harder. I know how this hurt you. I still don't have it all sorted out. But we are good." She shifted and leant forward pushing up out of the chair.
"Come on Shel let's get our faces cleaned up and I'll make a big fluffy, cheesy omelette. I think comfort food is in order." She helped Shelley to her feet and they looked deep into the others eyes and hugged tight for several minutes.
They headed arm in arm for the bathroom, scrubbed and cleaned their faces, changed into loaf about the house clothes and headed for the kitchen. Andie whipped and grated and sliced as Shelley poured a wine for Andie and a mineral water for herself. They quietly sipped and considered each other and relationships. Twenty minutes later they sat to eat and toasting each other chatted easily and slowly relaxed. The tension dissipated the dishwasher was stacked and they returned to the lounge put in a selection of CD's and curled up together on the lounge. Quietly talked their way through the last few days and came to an acceptance of things. Both agreed they were good. Perhaps better now for this. At something past midnight they agreed to turn in, emotionally drained, but at ease.
A quick shower and into bedclothes, curled against each other. As they relaxed Shelley hugged Andie and clearing her throat, spoke softly in her ear, "Hon I've been thinking for a while. I'll be 30 next year and the modelling is starting to taper off. The shops should be running soon...so. I, ...um, ...if you are interested. We, ...that is ...us, together, could have a baby. Yours and mine. What do you think?"
Andie rolled to face Shelley and looked into her eyes. With a smile and tears in the corner of her own, "That's a big one hon. We'll need to talk it through, but I would love to share a child with you." She kissed Shelley deep and long and soon they were stroking and touching. Loving each other, gentle and shared.
Some time later, spooning tight, Shelley whispered as she sensed Andie sleeping, "Sleep well hon, I love you so much." She kissed her lovers neck softly and snuggling tight, settled to sleep.
The end. At least in this...Life goes on.
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Just how easy is it to do or say and not worry too much about reaction and feelings. A lack of thought or empathy. Understanding or accepting… well that takes effort and some will not even consider the reasons and are blind to possibility.
This is one of those dark and un-redeeming type things conceived while I was in a mood. You know, one of those where for a few days everything is grey and a bit bleak and nothing you say is right and nothing fits and nobody likes you and you don't eat right and maybe drink a little more than you should, which of course... but you still sort of function and carry on and most don't notice.
It deals with the less desirable side of people. So if you want up, or frills or some redemption or hope…um, give this one a miss huh.
This is a work of adult fiction. No resemblance to reality should be inferred or expected.
Copyright KLS 2008.
Progression
By Kristina.L.S.
He sat a little hunched over, a pose he often took. If he thought about it at all it might surprise him that he didn't walk that way or have some sort of hunchback and mutter about bells a lot. But then with his mother frequently admonishing him for being too shy and timid he supposed the follow up walk proud thing held sway to some degree, but he did have a reason to walk tall. Not that he was… well he had little to be proud of, but he did try to look as though he believed he had some worth.
So here he was another happy birthday and the only greeting he had this morning was his old man with a," Well sixteen, so I hope you start acting like a man from now on, you're not a kid any more…", before he'd headed off to work.
Mum had been a pinch more chirpy with a peck to his cheek as she brushed his hair back and quietly wished him, "happy birthday darling, when are you going to get your hair cut. You're nearly a man now, can't you be more like your brother?"
Rod had just smirked through his toast and muttered "Yeah ya little sissy." Which got him a glare from Mum and a muttered, " hey only joshin', happy birthday little bro."
They'd headed off to school together but Rod had split off pretty quickly, with a, " have a good day eh Josh." Which was as close as he got to showing concern and he'd probably dismissed his brother from his thoughts the instant Greg and Geoff had appeared. They'd both, hey Joshed and then forgotten him as they all headed off down a different path.
A little under two years difference and they didn't want to know. Admittedly all three had stopped him getting a hammering on more than one occasion, but unless they practically walked into it they left him to sort it himself. He had plenty of occasions to be not very good at sorting it for himself.
The actual beatings were not that frequent, it was the ostracism and the pushes in the back and recently the text messages… Those messages really got to him. He wasn't really sure why some jerkoff sending messages about sissy pussy or poofta bait bothered him so much, they just did. He'd 'lost' two phones and it usually took about three days for them to find the new number. The ID was always blocked, though he knew if he complained they could be traced, but he never did. What good would complaining do? He was enough of a target already.
He looked around and tried to judge, how many? Maybe a hundred, hundred and fifty? Then he subdivided the people who hated him… maybe twenty or so. Those indifferent, oh… nearly the rest. Sort of friends or at least friendly; well maybe a dozen or so. So how many did that leave? Did he have any friends? Hmm, I guess Mike, Pete and maybe Jen. At least they talked to him and tried to involve him in stuff.
Funny, he'd used to be considered fairly smart. Now he couldn't concentrate anymore and his marks were sliding. Rod was doing well and would go to Uni next year. No one seemed too bothered that he wasn't getting anything like he had been. One teacher had asked if anything was bothering him. Mr Randall, but then he was gay and no-one took him seriously. One of two male teachers on a staff of thirty and he took the teasing and jibes and tried to do his job and he was actually pretty good. But Josh secretly wondered if Mr Randall fancied him and that bothered him though it wasn't because he was a guy it was because he was gay. Just why that was so he hadn't figured out yet. Though he did suspect it had something to do with him wanting to wear girls clothes. Not that Mr Randall knew that but maybe he could tell somehow and that didn't bother him and that was weird too.
He'd been working at the garage for a couple of years now, weekends and Thursday nights when the mechanics were on. He worked the till and had no real problems. It was pretty mindless and he kept his money and bought bits here and there. Mostly at the supermarket mixed with other things pretending to read from a list. Well there was a list, but it was his. So he built up a supply of pantyhose and stockings. A suspender belt or two when they did those Mothers day packs. A couple of silky slips that he loved to sleep in. Some camisoles and cotton knickers in varied colours and with little bows on the front. He'd had to venture further from there. Target and the like at Christmas, Mothers day, Valentines… some bras and matching panties. A few skirts and blouses to suit. Finally and most daring, a couple of pairs of heels. He'd trimmed some of those cheap insoles to his foot outline and slipped those in to check the size. His first and still his favourite was the glossy black slip ons with the three inch heels, slim and sexy and he just loved the feel and how they made you walk.
His little pouch of cosmetics that he'd sweated over for weeks and then he'd gone in and spoken to the girl and she'd kidded him about being embarrassed and how nice it was he was getting his sister a present for her first full time job and she wished she had a brother who'd spend a couple of hundred on her and the perfumes and the hold all pouch was a free gift with the purchase, so he had a nice basic kit all to suit his colouring.
Trouble was it started to show and he walked more like a girl and that was probably why he didn't slouch and he knew that everyone thought he was gay and for some reason he didn't want to be thought gay even though he thought maybe he was. But then he didn't want Mr Randall and he was gay but when Greg stood up for him his stomach flopped and fluttered like a … well he didn't know what like. Yet when he'd leant against Greg to thank him he'd jumped as though stung and the hurt curdled his stomach and he'd thrown up right there.
He was pretty sure Greg had not said anything yet he knew everybody knew and it seemed the taunts got a little louder and the pushes more frequent. The coughed, poofta became his call-sign and everyone knew he was nearby when they heard it. There had been a few minor punishments, the odd detention and reprimands. But that just meant they had something else to hate him for. Funny the girls were almost worse. They'd joke about being buddies and sharing makeup tips and at first he'd been terrified that he'd left a bit of mascara on or something, but it was just teasing. They'd offer him a lippy to try and as he stood or sat blushing and confused they'd poutingly coat their lips and then laughing link arms and saunter off.
When one of them had accidentally wiped his bottom lip with a glossy pink she'd blinked a couple of times and then angrily finished the job as he sat stunned and then stuck the tube in his shirt pocket. They'd stomped off muttering that time and then a couple of guys had come up and called him a little perv and given him a hiding. It was never that serious, just a few bruises and some tattered pride. Just boyish play his mother assumed though how that fit with his manner otherwise he never quite understood. Rationalising he guessed, boys will be boys or something.
He didn't bother anymore, barely spoke and spent his time reading and trying to see how or if he might fit somewhere. There were all these theories about various types and all those words reduced to initials just to make things simple when he knew it wasn't really that simple and his own father had smacked him to the floor and his mother had looked on with disgust all because he'd been mimicking a girl on the TV putting on eye makeup. They'd all sat and watched him for however long, maybe thirty seconds when bam he'd hit the floor and Rob had just sat there looking sad and ashamed and called him a fuckin' sissy and no-one had called him on it.
He'd just gone up to his room and it was though it had never happened except his cheek ached for a while and was a bit puffy the next day. He wanted to cry but he didn't he hadn't for a long time. He just sat and after a while went to bed.
He didn't sleep much after that and often would spend the night trying on his few clothes and getting made up and then because he had no-one and it didn't matter he started to go out and walk around the block. Careful to keep to paths he knew and always ducked into shade and kept still if a car came of anyone was walking, but that was pretty rare.
Old Mr Coustas sold the garage and the new guy didn't want a kid working there so the job was gone. He tried to get a casual in a chemist shop but of course they wanted a girl even if they couldn't say so. Naturally the girl they hired went to his school and soon it was all over about how he tried to get the cosmetics sales job at the local chemist. Which was of course exactly what he had tried to do even if it wasn't advertised as such and he didn't even bother to try and deny it. He just didn't care and the smirks and jibes went almost unnoticed which strangely caused them to lessen but he didn't notice that either.
He wasn't sure how it happened but he'd started to wear a bra and pants under his school uniform; pantyhose as well if it was cool though he kept socks on too so no-one would notice. He thought the camisole would be mistaken for a boys singlet, but maybe the strap showed or something. Well anyway one of the girls called out that he had a bra on and then someone pulled on his shirt and next thing the buttons popped and he was surrounded and he didn't know how many but his shirt was torn off and his trousers pulled down and then off as he was knocked to the ground. The camisole got stripped over his head and his shoes and socks went the other way and he was left lying in a circle of a dozen? Twenty? Well it didn't matter but the calls and whistles went on as a chant of .."Off, Off, Off, Off." Started up. And feeling completely numb he had just stripped off the cotton panties and then flicked off the bra as some girl commented in a sarcastic tone that you could tell he'd done that before as he stood there stark naked not even attempting to cover himself. Then a few coins landed at his feet as a guy called fifty cents for a blow job honey. Then someone muttered teacher and the crowd scattered as he pulled on the shirt and trousers and just walked off leaving his underwear scattered on the ground.
It was early afternoon and he got home easy enough. A nice hot shower, so he tucked his hair under the plastic cap and made a decision to use that Nair he'd kept hidden for months rubbing it all over arms legs and under and between, waiting looking at his watch as ten minutes ticked by and then rinsed off with a face washer rubbing away the light blonde fuzz and he was glad he didn't shave. It took a good half hour to get his makeup done right and he even did his nails though they were shorter than he wished, at least the shape was ok.
Then he dressed in his favourite black bra and pant set, suspender belt and stockings and they felt lovely without any hair at all. The cobalt blue silk blouse that looked almost like a sleeveless vest was next and then the little flirty black skirt that sat only just below the stocking tops and finally his favourite shoes and he stepped into them and bent his left and then right knee in to see and swirled once with an almost giggle.
Then he sat and carefully pushed a safety pin through first his right and then the left earlobe and with a cotton ball dabbed peroxide on to stop any bleeding. Seventy dollars they'd cost and he'd never dared but now he slipped them into the holes and felt it as they swung with each movement. A little stiff maybe due to the slight swelling but at least they were on. Brushed his hair for several minutes until it gleamed and sat, just so.
Finally he grabbed the little clutch purse and squirted some Je rivien that a sales girl had promised his girlfriend would love and truthfully he loved the gentle flowery scent. He almost didn't look as he slipped the long slim box in as he winked at himself and practically bounced down the stairs and out the door. Delighted to be free and just walking in the late afternoon sun. He strolled apparently without purpose but he ended up exactly where he knew he would. That little willow-grove near the river where the sun angled through and it looked sort of like something from a fairy tale.
He sat cross-legged and just watched the light as it danced on the water and smiled as the family of ducks trooped across in front of him and gently splashed down and paddled along the bank.
It was probably about an hour, the sun was beginning to set and scattered dark golden sparkles where silver had been. With a sigh he slipped the slender box out and pushed the small metal hook to release the lid, which swung open on the ribbon hinge.
It had been his grandfathers and he doubted anyone knew he had it. It had been a gift to a young boy almost ten years earlier as the old man had joked of only using an electric now because his hands shook and you'll be needing it soon son. He'd died a few years ago and that was the last time he remembered crying.
It stung a little and then burned for a minute before numbing as he sat, posture erect, almost as though meditating. He left it sitting on the grass in front of him next to his bag and just watched the trees and felt the gentle breeze ruffle the hair at his neck every so often.
He wasn't quite sure why but the sun seemed to be bigger and brighter and yet the light was less and a dog barking in the distance seemed to be very sad and he felt a tear run down his cheek, hoping it didn't smear his makeup. He watched a women on the other bank chase the retriever laughing as it bounced and jumped in front of her.
He could see her laugh and he watched the dog barking playfully yet he couldn't hear it and wondered why that was. There was sound but it was sort of like putting a large shell to your ear and hearing the sea.
Strange, he'd felt hot at first and then gradually colder until he was shivering slightly but he sat there in this semi lotus position and watched the night come. He wasn't shivering anymore yet felt cool and there seemed to be a strong wind though nothing moved. The leaves on the nearby trees were nearly completely still, just a slight tremor as of the mildest breeze and yet the wind roared…
After a bugger of a year a young man goes on a quest. Of course nothing goes quite the way it was supposed to… maybe.
The Non contest Chrissie Eve Challenge thing… Umm… If yer expectin' a serious Chrissie type story… well, best skip this one.
This is a work of adult fiction.
No resemblance to reality should be inferred or expected.
Copyright KLS 2007.
Rain!... Typical.
By Kristina.L.S.
He was the last. Thus ended the line of Tredinick, well on this godforsaken piece of dirt anyway. Fifty thousand acres of dust, that's what it was now. Fuckin' State Gov had stopped the water allocation because some multinational upstream needed it and they provided jobs after all. Must be a hundred or so instead of a Family of one silly old bugger chasing a dream. One silly old biddy, who still loved 'im even if she'd like ta beat his brains in with a frypan most nights.
Last... well that'd be me, the son. Pfft. Son, future of the line, Shit... pity I'd been on hormones for months now unbeknown... Family line, not bloody likely. Of course if ya multiply the family thing by twenty or so along the river line they almost met the numbers. But who gives a stuff about numbers or tradition or the bloody future. Not the bloody pollies, that's fer sure. Short term gain and donations, cynical little twerp aint I.
The sheep had been sold as pet food and the cattle went for a quarter value. Funny how the supermarket chain managed to get twenty times as much on the city shelves.
Ten years of drought had finally beaten his old man so he'd 'slipped' and fallen under the rotary hoe out in the west paddock. At least the useless piece of dirt had got a bit of moisture. What the bloody crows didn't get anyway. So much for the cattle feed.
Of course the old dear had taken it hard and while putting on the stoic women on the land face she'd actually turned into a silly old lush. If she wasn't pissed by lunchtime it was only 'cause the bloody grog delivery hadn't come yet. Didn't last a bloody year.
So here we are. The banks foreclosed and wonder of wonders the upstream Big Boys have made an offer. Seems they bought the water so have reason to believe they can make a go. Funny how that goes innit.
Me, well the names Bruce... leastways it was. I sort of prefer Sonia meself, Sonia Tredinick, has a nice ring don't ya reckon. Never could stand Bruce, way too bloody Monty Python for my liking. Nice enough twit he is.. but Sonia has 'im by the short and curlies if ya know what I means. Bruce is a dim bugger. No ambition and no bloody prospects now the olds 'as up and carked leavin' bloody nuthin. Christmas, oh yeah. Ho bloody Ho.
So here we is. Notice ta vacate an all, delivered by the local copper. Should a seen his face when Sonia opened the door. Nearly choked on the blowie he sucked in. Silly bastard. Still 'e managed to do 'is duty an' deliver the papers... insisted I sign Bruce. Said Sonia was not legal. I mean who gives a shit. It's all gone anyway.
So... two weeks later. Two bags plus a coupla 'undred litres a fuel in the back of the ol' Hilux Ute, three 'undred in the kitty and we's off ta see the wizard. Well that's the plan anyway.
See there's this ol' wives tale Abo legend like. Christmas Eve ya go ta the Rock and the Rainbow serpent will grant ya wish as the sun rises on Christmas day. Always thought it was complete bollocks. I mean what the hell significance has Christmas to a bunch a darkies tha' never 'eard a bloody Jesus or the Virgin or any o that crap.
Sure I mean if that's what ya's into, fine. Each ta their own an' all. Hell no dafter than bloody rainbow serpents that coughed up the universe or something'. Yeah Ok, there was a dude called Jesus and his Mum was Mary and 'is ol' man was Joseph oo later turned up as the founder of the Round Bloody Table or sumthin'. All depends oo ya listen to I guess. But then the daft believers will bring in talk a Songlines and interconnectin' lines a bloody power across the Earth. 'Course then they go off about the Druids and human sacrifice and rebirth and some place called Stone'edge... fuckin Mayans... all sorts a crap. Never could quite figure 'ow the bleedin' Druids or any a that lot figured in Abo dreamtime folklore. I mean they all sort of revolve around life and the Earth and basic human stuff. 'Allegory' some daft ol' Minister tried ta lay out one time. No one 'ad a blind clue what 'e wuz on about. Yeah well, it's birth and growth and struggle and if ya's lucky a bit a bloody sex along the way. Then ya die fer Christ sake. Crap, screw that. Any dipshit growin' up on tha land could tell ya that.
Anyways, that's the game plan. I mean shit. What 'ave I got ta bloody lose. 'Ere I am, a thousand bloody miles from nowhere and another bloody thousand to anywhere, homeless, no livin' relies... a few clothes and a coupla' hundred bucks. Shit... dreams is all I bloody got.
So, it's the Twenty Second… Twenty two 'undred kay's, huh, matchin' bloody numbers should go buy a bloody lottery ticket. So yeah Two Two and a coupla zeros, over two days and climb the damn thing and wait fer dawn. No worries Sonia me gal, easy peasy. Course yer not supposed to. Frowned on by tha Indigenous owners an' all. But hell, one skinny white chickie type guy person. Couldn't hurt nuthin'.
Damn... I'm tired. Well you try drivin' twenty two 'undred bloody kays in two days in this stinkin' bloody 'eat and see 'ow you feel. Still 'ere we are. Uloo-bloody —ru, or Ayers Rock, 'ooever 'e was. Some stupid bloody pommie explorer that starved ta bleedin death while the abo's looked on shakin their 'eads at these daft white fellas, most likely. So they names this lump a rock after 'im. 'Oo cares anyway. Then a course some soddin' PC wanker from Greenie 'Eaven decides that a Indigenous name is more bloody proper. So Ayers loses 'is bloody 'eadstone and some ol Abo git gets 'is name in the paper. Probly sold 'is story fer a packet an all. Then went an' got pissed and tossed in the hoosegow ta wind up dead with a broken bloody neck. Which a course gives the fuckin bleedin 'earts a cause celebrity ta play with. Death in custody and white fella coppers lookin at the noose. Figeratively speakin' a course. It's all a load a crap. I mean people is people isn't they??
Pity no one told all the bloody people that. That Hughie, one sense a bloody humour 'e 'as.
Now ... ere we bloody are. Well me. No other daft prick 'would be out 'ere. I mean 'ere we are in the middle of a bloody drought. Hasn't rained fer donkeys… fuckin' years. I think I read somewhere it rains on the rock about every twenty or so.
So 'ere's me. Plannin' on climbin' the damn lump and wait fer dawn… and what bloody 'appens. Yep! It fuckin' rains. Pisses down. Absolute bloody buckets. Even if I wanted ta drive off I couldn't the damn cars up ta the floor boards. Serves ya right fa parkin' in a damn hollow ya stupid prick. Well, who expected rain fer Christ sake! I mean every bloody twenty fuckin years… and it's not even fuckin due. Damn you Hughie, what'd this screwed up nineteen year old do ta piss you off then huh??
Course the only answer was a crash a bloody thunder and more fuckin' rain. What a bleedin' show off. 'Ad to admire the bastards sense a 'umour though.
Huh... Must a nodded off. Gotta be near dawn I figure there's a pinch a colour happenin' way over ta the East.
Then well.. I guess you had to be there.
Suddenly the sky was filled with this... Rainbow. A flickering mass of colour, all colours of the well… yes, of the Rainbow. The Rock itself, Uluru just sat there brooding as water ran in small rivers down the multifaceted Ochre face. But even that changed as the light shifted. Going from a non descript gray, to a dull purple then on to various shades of brown and red and blue and... it seemed the colours were more than possible. Even stranger the rainbow seemed to shift and flow, almost as though it were a snake, flicking across the cloud dunes of the sky.
It occurred to me that whatever troubles had been it was now Christmas day and that was supposedly a Holy day. It certainly felt wonderful to be here and now and smelling the rain and the lack of dust and watching the colours shift and flow on the rock and in the sky above.
Exactly how long... I have no idea. It truly could not have been more than an hour. Suddenly the sky was clear, that same pale throbbing blue that had been all the sky for years. But this day it seemed cleaner, with perhaps a touch of promise. A slightly different shade of blue, deeper somehow.
Well Hughie, lets see what this Christmas might bring. Soon it will be New Years and then... who knows...
Just sit and do it... or sat and did it... so if it's crap that's why. Just had to... ya know?
A chance meeting... then, again, in different circumstances, a glimpse across a
room brings questions, possibility and longing.
Feelings you were previously unaware of. Although...
This is a work of adult fiction.
No resemblance to reality should be inferred or expected.
Copyright KLS 2008.
Reunion
By Kristina.L.S.
I'd been living in the old house for several months and having somewhat odd hours I didn't really interact too much with the others. More of a nod hello as we passed from time to time and as long as the rent got paid and no one had a hate on for you no one cared too much who did what. I often worked late and rose late as I tried to come up with witty fillups for the weekend edition stars or copy-edits for bigger pieces. Not to mention the spec articles that mostly came back with a 'thanks not at this time' note attached. Freelance writing is no way to make your fortune unless you're very good or get very lucky. So far neither seemed likely.
She had moved in a few months later after Jenny, or was it Jackie had moved out. The big airy rooms and feeling of privacy amidst company had she said attracted her. Better than some sterile little apartment somewhere she said. She liked to be around people.
Seemed she worked in the music business in management or promotions I was never quite sure. One thing I was sure of she was the most beautiful and amazing woman I had ever met. She moved with a fluid grace and her smile was… Well I wanted to kiss her fingertips and stare into her green blue eyes and watch her lips quirk in friendly amusement at my silliness.
She was at twenty-four five years older than me and was far more worldly and knowledgeable than I would have believed. My knowledge of women was scant and largely second-hand, but I was up on events and had I thought a good wide knowledge of the world and people in general. Still there was no topic that we raised between us where she could not add to my thoughts. Arriving home as she often did after one or later she would stop and ask what I was working on and chat, perhaps make a tea or something and stand sipping in the doorway as she watched me work.
Of course as she stood there all thoughts of work left and it was pure bluff and luck that I could make an intelligent response to her questions.
It had been almost a month and once she had established herself and then ascertained I was up and open to a chat the routine had been established. Perhaps a week or so later she had stood in the door sipping soup and casually sucked the air from my lungs with a simple question.
"So tell me, how long have you been dressing? I'd like to meet her one day."
The air had sucked from the room and I sat unable to breathe as my vision narrowed. I'm honestly not sure how long I sat like that and was only vaguely aware of her slight shrug as she pushed off the door frame and headed to her own room.
I didn't see her for several days and was in turn terrified that she would and saddened that she didn't stop at my door. So of course when she did finally manage to synch her schedule to a doorstop visit to my room it was practically a relief.
There I was, staring at the screen and trying to decide whether an allusion to colour worked as a metaphor to the changing feelings of the hero and suddenly she was there.
" So, hey there girlfriend, how's everything?" leaning as was her wont against the door frame, only this time she was dangling a heavy paper carry bag in a dark purple from her right hand fingers.
In the couple of seconds it took for my body to react to that statement with a jolt as of a mild electric shock and a deep blush, while mentally trying to think of a response somewhere in the negative… well, in that few seconds she entered the room, something she had never done…. and closed the door.
"You seem a little shy, a little unsure. Scared that I know your secret perhaps. I know most people are too self involved to notice the traces of eyeliner or nail polish, but some will. If you are in the closet you need to be more careful." She smiled a small smile while raising the carry bag and waving it slightly. "I did some shows with a semi punk underground band, you know alternative goth type grunge. Gender is fluid and Lou Reed would have a fit trying to decide who was a girl or a boy. Anyway, the singer, a lovely girl with some serious fashion flair and I got talking and I told her about you…"
She actually laughed as I paled and gasped softly, " Oh don't worry yourself. I didn't tell her who you were, just described you and the situation. She got all excited and insisted I meet her the next day at this little boutique she worked in. Weeeell, was that a different experience. The girl behind the counter was a boy and gorgeous if you like that black and purple with lots of lace with pouty red lips semi vampire look. My friend from the night before had a bunch of things picked out as I'd told her already what I thought your measurements would be. I demurred on some as I couldn't see you as a new romantic goth type, but the basic pieces, well those I said I 'd buy. She just gave them to me, insisted as I'd helped her band and she was helping you. All part of the circle she said."
This time she extended her arm and then dropped the dangling bag at my feet. "Have a look and then tell me what you think before I leave you alone... to play."
I hesitated to move. Oh alright, I stalled, as I tried to figure out what the best course of action might be. Ultimately of course after a few minutes I had no choice but to pick up the bag and look. Initially I ignored the larger rolled heavy fabric piece and pulled several small packs of stockings in shades from black to nude shimmer. Two heavily elasticised black bikini briefs and finally the roll, which was a beautiful silk brocade corset in black with small red and gold flowers shimmering upon it.
It was likely another few minutes before I turned my gaze up to meet hers. The small smile had become a slight smirk as she stared at me knowingly.
"I take it you like your pressie then. I'll leave you in peace, but you let me know when you get the balls to wear them girlfriend. I want to see how they look." With that she turned and strolled out the door seeming not to actually move to pull it open.
I quickly stuffed everything back in the bag and dropped it beside the desk just in case anyone passed the door and glanced in. Highly unlikely, but paranoia is hardly logical.
It was several nights later when I saw her again. It had taken some effort to work the laces and achieve a suitable result but the feeling it gave and the symmetry it produced made the effort worthwhile. Two nights had been in vain and now terror as she stood in the doorway. Standing before I could change my mind I invited her in.
She cocked her head slightly in mild surprise and then slowly smiled that small slightly wicked, knowing smile she had. Stepped into the room closing the door behind her. Beckoned me closer with a small gesture and watched as I moved. She pressed a hand against my thigh and felt the button of the suspender strap and ran it up to my hip and then waist pressing lightly with her fingers. The toe of her right foot pressed on my left and tapped the exposed stocking.
"Well girlfriend, I'm slightly disappointed. Trousers and baggy T do not really suit the undergarments. Are you wearing the gaffe?"
I blushed and nodded as her thigh pressed gently between my legs to feel the smooth junction.
"Anything else?"
I again blushed heavily and nodded, "Some… um, some black lace French knickers that seemed to go with the rest. "
Her small smile widened, "Yes I suspect they would look right. What did you get your waist to?"
"Um… twenty six, only two inches. It's not easy to do on your own."
"Oh, is that an invitation?"
The blush deepened and spread all over. Then with an effort I straightened and looked her in the eyes, which with her heels on were a few inches above mine.
"Why? I don't understand. I'm terrified of you mocking me and that you saw through me in the first place I suppose. You smile and tease a little and then give me this beautiful present and I don't understand…"
She cocked her head to the side again and her smile slipped slightly as she thought.
"Honestly, I'm not sure. You're about the only one up when I come in mostly and you seemed like a nice guy if a little bookish. Then when I noticed the small traces of makeup I assumed you were gay or maybe just a closet case. But then I began to see there was more to it as I passed you during the day now and then. A gentleness and grace to you that wasn't foppish or overblown." She shrugged slightly, "I guess I was curious as to what it meant to you and… and maybe what that meant to me."
For the first time since I had met her she seemed a little uncomfortable.
"What, some toy to play with?", my voice flat.
With a slight shake of her head she exhaled softly, "No, not a toy. But something, sorry, someone that I had not really come across in quite the same way before. A person that through no obvious action had tilted my idea of what I wanted in a friend or maybe partner and even a lover. Is that enough confessional for you?" This last said with a tilt of her chin and a mild defiance in her voice. "In short girlfriend, the idea of you all dressed and no doubt looking gorgeous really turned me on. And that surprises the hell out of me."
I stood speechless as my goddess told me that I affected her. That, 'me' caused doubts and uncertainties in her mind. The idea of ridicule or abuse was not one I was unfamiliar with, but this was something different.
The glint returned to her eyes as she pressed into me gently making me suddenly aware of just how close we were standing and amazed that I hadn't pulled back before.
"So girlfriend. I'll be back about two tomorrow morning. Why don't you take a little time and make the effort to show me if my mental image is up to the reality. Keep the door closed and I'll knock if there's a light on. If not…" With that the small smile returned full force as she pressed her thigh forward and then turned and walked out. It was only then I realised my breathing was heavy as though I'd run a long flight of stairs.
If not she says, if not. As if, or not oh stop it you're rambling. You knew as did she that there was no way you would not if humanly possible, so stop trembling like an eighteenth century virgin on her wedding night. That image of some girlish Bronte acquaintance had me laughing out loud to the extent I got the damn hiccups. Which did wonders for the equilibrium if not the decorum. It had taken two hours to get the makeup right, fix the hair then dress. The gaff first, keeping things in line, at least at first was necessary. Corsets are a bitch, but they do feel lovely once gently tightened and with a bit of tugging of skin and some subtle gel stuffing to give the lack of nature a hand actually looked pretty nice too. Midnight shimmer stockings, which was sort of a slinky charcoal. The strappy soft black sandals with three inch spikes. The fluid silk spaghetti strap dress that flowed from chest to just to below knee with a harbour at twilight gloss. Lastly the sheer black rayon close fitting long sleeved overblouse that hugged gently and hid nothing, tied with two small bows just below the bust and at the navel as it flared ever so gently at the hip.
Just after one thirty there was a tap on the door. With a cattle stampede storming around my belly I opened the door… "Uup." And blushed like a fool, damn hiccups.
Her eyebrow raised in amusement for as second as her gaze took me in. "Not the… ah, not the greeting I was expecting. Well not in one sense, but… You… damn girlfriend, you went all out and you look absolutely wonderful. I feel a little false pretenses here, not to mention underdressed. Never mind, got a bag? No? Doesn't matter come on."
One second I felt elated but terrified and a pinch embarrassed because of the hiccup. The next second terror is winning hands down as she pulls me out the door swings it shut with a click and hustles me down the hallway then the stairs and out the front door to her car sitting at the curb across the short stretch of grass. Before I had even understood we were going somewhere I was in the passenger seat and she was clunking the drivers door closed and starting the engine. Can someone be scared to death? Popular phrase, but the next minute or two might prove it one way or the other.
She was grinning like an idiot as she pulled out and headed down the road, "Oh my, you should see your face girlfriend. It's a funny mix or fear and I am going to kill you anger. Don' t worry so much, we're just going to meet a friend have a quick coffee and then back home. Mind you looking like that I know a club or two I could sell you no problem."
The bitch, she actually laughed as I went even more pale than I had been.
"Oh will you relax. You look great and I'm all hot and bothered but that sort of defeats the purpose here. Just be cool, I will not do anything to hurt you okay."
It took a minute but I did relax a bit as she manoeuvred the Volvo city slicker 4x4 easily along. I'd never really thought but she must be worth a bit, these were not cheap. I appraised her silently for a minute as she smiled at my not really hidden indignation. Her dark red hair was casually pulled back off her face and held by one of those big fat toothy clip things to fall casually over her shoulders. The slinky dark red bustier top showed her off brilliantly and the black silk skintight pants did nothing to diminish her sensuality. I had to snort a little in laughter as her shoes were almost exactly the same as mine. I'd never tried driving in them though.
Her smile widened and she winked at me. Hooo, she was beautiful.
"Would you like to tell me where we're going?"
"Ah, well girlfriend I feel a little guilty. I did perhaps give you a false impression but I wanted you to look good and put in some effort and I have to say I am truly impressed, which bothers me a bit, but never mind. See there's a do on this weekend. Bunch of Music nobs getting together for a big charity thing. All glitz and tits and probably a fair bit of blow. I have a mate. Lovely bloke that really doesn't fancy women, but he's not quite gay either. He's a gentleman…."
"Oh, no fuckin way. I am not some dial a tranny to cover some blokes image…"
"Now don't be like that. This is not a pay for sex deal. I wouldn't do that to you, you have my word." She slowed and waited till I'd settled a little and nodded for her to continue.
"Okay, sorry for how that sounded. This is a chance for him to show off a good looking lady as his escort for the evening. Plus it gives you a chance to get out and be yourself with no pressure. There is no way he would even think of trying anything on at this stage. Later… well who knows. That's up to you guys. " It seemed that a frown crossed her features for a second there, but it was probably a shadow.
"Look, let's just meet with the guy and have a coffee and then home. If you really can't face the idea he won't push and I will apologise for messing you both up and take you home."
I nodded as it was really just a pinch childish to back out at this point and at two am the chances of being busted were slim. Fear will have to wait a while to claim me. Of course right then I hiccupped and she cracked up and swerved a bit out of her lane, fortunately with no trouble.
I glanced across and that frown seemed to be back on her face, she was thinking and seemed troubled. Well serves you right.
She pulled over and jumped out pulling on a light tailored cotton jacket as she headed around to open my door and help me out, smirking just a little as I struggled.
"Being a lady's tough eh girlfriend." The smirk changing to a laugh as I slid out and practically exposed myself to the world as the skirt rode up. Blushing I tried to pull it down a little which hanging off the edge of the seat was a lost cause. Not helped at all as she reached over and snapped the garter strap against my thigh. She laughed aloud and then stopped so suddenly it startled me as she stepped in and with her hand still pressed against my smooth skin helped me down and shielded me from view if anyone happened to be looking, which they weren't, but still…
I looked up into her eyes and she looked flushed and a little, worried? Even with the matching shoes she was a couple of inches taller, Um, even with me in heels, oh you know.
"What's wrong?"
With a shake she smiled at me, "Sorry… nothing, just a muscle twinge, don't worry I'm fine. Lets do this and go huh."
Now it was my turn to frown. Wasn't this all her idea and now she seemed off the whole thing.
Taking my hand she led me into a small Italian bistro and across to a table where a guy was fidgeting nervously and with a start jumped to his feet as we approached.
First impression was he was pretty good looking. Trim, about six foot, sort of trendy architect look in the linen jacket and longish hair. His eyes locked on mine and then roamed up and down as he measured and judged the likelihood of being sprung I guess.
"So Neal, did I lie to you?"
"N… no, you didn't." He waved and I guess ordered coffee for three, which normally I would have been pissed off about but I let this one slide. Surreal sort of took precedence to pride.
We all sat and sort of gazed about. Even my abductor seemed subdued now it was going down.
"So…" My voice broke as I stuttered and bloody hiccupped for good measure. Deep breath.
"So, Neal seeing you've had me kidnapped and I apparently meet some predetermined standard of semi girl. What is it you want from me?"
Hah, I crowed silently as she blushed at the kidnap bit. Neal to his credit looked alarmed and switched his gaze back and forth between us.
"Oh relax as I keep getting told. I actually feel semi normal right this second so before I get terrified and faint, or throw up why don't you explain."
Three chock sprinkled cappuccinos clunked down on the table as the other hand of a formidable looking Italian woman plonked the sugarbowl next to them. Amazingly she had not spilled a drop, the saucers were unsullied. Though a dribble did creep slowly down the side of the cup facing me. Hoo, that smelled good, real coffee.
We all busied ourselves with sugaring and stirring. Then Neal outlined the idea and promised he would be a complete gentleman. Pick me up, drop me home. Seven Saturday night till midnight or so depending. Dinner and some mingling, a bit of drunken dancing which we could avoid he assured. Just…he wanted cover. He hated being hassled by women and a few men. Having me on his arm would slow it up some.
"Oh, so I'm not good enough to stop it huh?"
Both of them swallowed desperately at that barely avoiding a milky spray. Neal coughed a few times. She looked like she'd swallowed a spoon.
He looked at me very seriously once he'd regained his composure. "Actually I think you will cause a riot. I seem to be considered desirable and having this gorgeous unknown hanging on my every word will, you will won't you?" I nodded gently and smiled.
"Well having you as my date will mess with a few bitchy ego's. That alone will make my month. "
I glanced sideways to see her sitting back and frowning again, her coffee cup held in both hands as she stared at the table directly in front of her.
We sipped and sat and settled the details and at a little before three we all headed out with Neal giving me a solemn handshake and then a hurried and hesitant hug. Before he hurried away.
Surreal was back as we walked to the car and headed home. Strangely it was a silent trip. She seemed to be thinking almost as much as me.
The next two days were weird. Can imaginary butterflies eat you alive from the inside out? Probably not, but it might be better than twenty four hour nervous sickness. Talk about bloody stage fright. God I hope everyone is out at seven.
Wear the same outfit she said as she handed me a little black clutch bag and with a strange not quite smile squeezed my hands and left. So what was her problem? I'm the one going out with some near stranger and probably outing myself in the process.
My phone buzzed causing my stomach to flip as I clenched my muscles and held my breath, no throwing up, Neal was on time. Picking up the bag I opened and closed the door and I guess I walked out and down the hall. Luckily I didn't bang into anything because I had my eyes closed for the first few seconds.
I did hear a muttered, "what the f….." as I opened the door and tried to appear calm as I clipped down the front steps. Elegance personified, well I didn't go arse over anyway.
I held my breath again for a moment as Neal took my arm and helped me into the car. I settled and exhaled with a small gasp. Thank Christ I didn't have the bloody hiccups again.
Neal settled himself and smiled across at me, "You look lovely, thanks for doing this."
"You only live once or something, No Fear, wasn't that a Tshirt? Besides I think you're a nice guy and I guess I need to do this for me too. Hopefully I won't throw up on your leather seats. I am so fucking scared."
"Believe me you look terrific. No one will know and I guarantee a few little bitches jaws will be out of joint when you walk in with me."
"What, mister eligible bachelor are you? You do have the looks and the car for it. Shit this little Merc probably costs more than I've made in my entire life."
He actually blushed and then smiled softly as he started the car. "Seeing you're what, eighteen or nineteen I guess that's so, but give it time. And yes I am mister eligible bachelor, but I'm a damn picky one."
Now that got me blushing and for some reason we both laughed which cleared the air as he pulled out.
We chatted a little as he drove and when he pulled in and helped me out, I could get used to that, I was relaxed and looking forward to the night.
The room was large and tastefully decorated with twenty round tables seating six with simple floral arrangements centred all identical and tied with silk ribbons. Roving waitresses and waiters all in black trousers and shirts roamed passing out champagne or taking orders for other drinks. Others carried trays of little hors d'oeuvres, smoked salmon, turkey, sushi, pickles and stuff me, caviar. Hmm, not impressed. Thought that was supposed to be heaven on a cracker.
I was introduced around with the name we'd agreed on and apart from a few stutters as I adjusted my history to fit everything was good. My ego did get a little boost as I realised I was indeed getting a few raised eyebrow appraisals and at least one look designed to rupture me in various places. One mildly off his nut rock star with a top ten hit got a hand in my knickers from behind before I knew he was there. The elbow in the sternum dropped him breathless as I strolled off. I hate that fuckin' song.
Neal was good guy and easy to be with which made this much easier and more enjoyable than I’d feared. I was enjoying myself I wondered what she was up to. I half expected her to be watching from a door way with a smile on her face and muttering silently way to go girlfriend while raising her glass to me. Pushy bitch but she was right and she was absolutely gorgeous, "Sorry Neal what did you say..?"
Could have sworn. A tall figure across the room in a deep burgundy gown, dark red hair pulled up slightly and held with a jewelled clasp and pin.
The food wasn't bad, but nothing to write home about. The auction was fun, assorted painted jeans donated by various celebs. Coupla hundred thou' going to research into Autism.
The dancing was a bit strange and tentative at first. I couldn't quite get my head around dancing with a guy regardless of how I was dressed. Buy hey a few glass's of bubbly and I loosened up a bit and doing the nutbush with a whole line of sexy girls got me tight in a whole other way.
Neal grabbed and swung me about in a vague approximation of a waltz as Constant Craving washed the floor as that wonderful voice got everybody up dancing to feel close. More than a few same sex couples, which made me smile, hah, must have had enough drinks. This felt nice.
As we swung around at the end of the song he whispered he needed the bathroom and had to have a quick chat with a friend, back in a minute. As I turned, there she was. Standing at the side of the floor. The burgundy rippling slightly as the air moved about her. Her eyes locked on mine as she headed straight across the floor seeming to glide as my heart began to race with the intensity of her gaze.
She stopped just short of touching and reached up with both her hands as her fingers as gentle as feathers caressed my cheeks and leant in with a whispered. "hey there girlfriend", her voice a little husky and her gaze pouring emotion that got me tingling and blushing though I didn't understand why. Then she kissed me softly and taking my hand led me off the floor to a quieter, slightly darker area.
Now I felt flushed and nervous and excited and glanced from one of those lovely eyes to the other as I tried to understand. "What…?"
"Shush."
She smiled gently and pressed me back against the wall brushing the curled fingers of her right hand across my left cheek as she pushed her right thigh between my legs and rubbed it up and down against my compressed crotch.
Leaning in as I began to pant slightly she brushed her lips across mine, increasing the pressure from her thigh as my legs involuntarily spread a little wider and my breathing became faster and slightly laboured. Her left hand that had been sitting at my corseted waist now moved up as her right hand nails gently scraped my cheek and cupping my face in both hands she kissed me, hard and deep sucking my will and reason away as she probed with her tongue.
She obviously felt the tension and sudden attempt to move, to breathe to… she simply moved both hands to my waist, pressed harder and kissed deeper as my whole body jerked and spasmed and then slumped. The mixed cry groan that had escaped my throat was, thankfully, muffled by her mouth, hard upon mine.
She leant back away from me slightly but still held my waist and I could feel her breath upon my wet lips. My eyes were somewhat unfocused as I gazed at her, able to make out the small smile that played across that amazing face.
"You… my girl…. belong to me. Don't move." Her breathy whisper brushed across me as I shivered.
I watched as she backed away a few steps watching to make sure maybe that I didn't slide to the floor in a heap. Then turning to two nearby tables she pulled the silken ribbons that wrapped the vases of flowers and turned back to me with an expression somewhere between love and lust that again made me shiver.
Again she brushed her lips across mine as I pushed out to try and hold that kiss a moment longer. She turned the movement and took my hands, pressing them gently together behind my back as I tried to understand her intent. Then she wrapped one of the ribbons three times around my wrists and tied a bow, gently imprisoning my arms. The second ribbon she turned about my neck twice and then twisted it once as though to again tie a bow, but this time left it open and the ends trailing down across my faux bust.
Once again she pressed me against the wall and pushed her thigh between my now slightly rubbery legs and smiled that same small not quite kind or gentle smile. With a languorous and utterly seductive movement she reeled me forward by the trailing ribbon and as soon as I was close enough ran her tongue across my lips as though tasting and again kissed me softly.
"Now you my lovely will go and find your date and say goodnight, I'll meet you at the door. Don't be long."
She looked deeply into my eyes seeking an answer and nodded at what she saw as her smile widened.
Then she turned and moved away into the room with a feline grace and power that held my gaze until others intruded as they moved about. People that had no idea the world had just changed.
It took a moment as I tried to comprehend the last few minutes. Felt the heat of her breath and the ribbons holding my wrists and circling my throat. With an almost unconscious movement I pushed away from the wall and went to find Neal.
I needed to say goodbye.
~~~ an end and a beginning… ~~~ aint imagination wonderful ~~
Bill was a nice guy. Everyone said so... all the girls thought he was cute as.
But cute wasn't exactly what he hoped for... at least sometimes.
Today was a big day, presentations... possible promotion.
But well... Bill, he's having one of those days.
This is a work of adult fiction. No resemblance to reality should be inferred or expected. Copyright KLS 2007.
Should Have Stayed in Bed
By Kristina.L.S.
The radio came on at 6 with a hyperactive, bubbly, just slightly (ahem) over the top girl guy team doing their best to spruik the customer's product and edge a little higher in the ratings. He didn't really like this station at all, some of the music was ok but the announcers made him want to throw things and kick the cat... if he had a cat. Not that he actually would of course. He listened because they ran several of his teams ads. 'His team', what a joke, he was one of a half dozen junior copywriters trying to get noticed by their wit and skilful brevity.
Get the message across, make it brief, direct and memorable. That last one was the toughie.
Sighing he dragged himself out of bed determined to go for a run and shake out the cobwebs. He'd had a lousy night's sleep, much more night than sleep and was already nervous even though the meeting was hours away. His slogan had caught the boss' eye. She had smiled with a twinkle in her own as his idea was floated in the group meeting 6 days earlier. A simple line, that just skirted the edge of rude and got almost everyone smiling and nodding...'clever'.
So this morning at 11 he got to attend the presentation, meet and greet and give his line while the others sketched the campaign outline in more detail. This was what he wanted, to get noticed, a slight promotion. More money. But public speaking was never his best thing and nerves were already trying to gnaw his belly button, from the inside.
He dragged the old Olympics T-Shirt over his head, stained and worn trackie pants and his beaten up old Brooks. He grabbed the Multi-V from the fridge and took a few big gulps straight from the bottle, then patted his lips with a wash towel. He stopped still and smiled ruefully, 'Mr Macho he was not... got the sculling out of the bottle right and then went all prissy with the cloth. Should have used the back of his hand or something'.
Sighing he tied his door key in the waist string and trotted down the stairs.
The sigh got bigger as he emerged on the front lawn to find his downstairs neighbour stretching in preparation for a run. He liked Carl. Carl was a nice guy... but next to Bill... well he made Bill look like his much younger brother... or even worse. He began his own stretch routine as Carl smiled and nodded his way. Damn... now they'd have to run together. What really bugged him was that Carl... adjusted. If Bill ran flat out on their usual route he would do a 35 to 40 minute circuit. Carl had mentioned before they had run together that he could do the same thing in just on 30 minutes, without really straining. Once he had discovered Bills time he never mentioned it again and in fact ran to Bill's pace every time they met up.
Standing side by side as they readied to head off the differences were apparent. Carl had two years on Bill's 22, a solid, just over 6 foot easy masculinity against Bill's slight and almost delicate 5 foot 7. Carl's trimmed almost spiky reddish blond collar length hair against Bill's long and wavy, soft blonde ponytail. Standing there Bill flashed on a previous run and what was one of the most embarrassing experiences of his life... the even worse. The two of them had run two thirds of the circuit when a street sweeper truck had forced a temporary mark time stop. Two gorgeous girls running past on an opposing route called out in passing... "Hey Carl... who's the new girl?" He hadn't even registered that they meant him until Carl had turned his way shaking his head.
"Don't worry about those two Bill. A pair of leso's... take any chance to put down us guys." Still shaking his head side to side he headed off again as the truck cleared the road. It took another few seconds for Bill to regain his wits and catch up. Carl of course had held his pace until Bill did just that.
After they'd run a few times Carl had asked about the hair.
"Well I'm not the biggest and strongest so I need to make the most of what I have. Everyone says I have beautiful hair... and the girls just love it. It's sort of a standout feature...", he had finished lamely. Carl had nodded and smiled. That smile had not quite reassured Bill that his masculinity was unquestioned.
So they headed off, chatting idly every so often. Ten minutes along the sky opened up and within 30 seconds they were both soaked to the skin. Catching a reflection in a shop window as they waited for the lights to change Bill noted a slight difference in appearance. Carl looked sort of windswept and objectively, pretty good. He on the other hand looked like a drowned rat.
Climbing the 148 stairs from the street below to the one just behind their block he stumbled in near exhaustion as Carl trotted on the spot waiting for him to clear the final step. He'd counted those steps more than a few times, a final hurdle, before... breakfast.
If he did that more than once a week or so he might actually get fit, a stray thought quickly dismissed. Tried to ignore Carl as he waved, smiled and shook his head at the oft-repeated shaky legged stumble up the stairs. Made it inside and flicked the switch in the kitchen...
"Oh just great. No power." 'So much for a hot brekky... or coffee. At least there'll be hot water.'
After a good long soak and hair wash Bill carefully selected his outfit. He had in fact done that days ago, but here he was, second-guessing himself. The light pure wool suit was a given. It was the only one he owned. Shoes... easy, only one good pair. Shirt? Hmmm... The royal blue cotton, or the creamy white chamois silk?
He took a good look in the mirror... soft charcoal black jacket and trousers with the fluid silk shirt. Glossy black Oxfords and belt. Hair pulled back in a loose ponytail... it would dry in an hour or so. 'Not bad', now he needed coffee.
The place down the road was also blacked out so he had no choice. The half hour bus ride was even more tedious than usual not having been fortified. As always he sat and waited till the scramble to get out had slowed and then wandered out and began the 4 block walk. Having waited till now he decided to hold out till he got to Sasha's just down from work. They did a much better coffee than any of those near here and he'd tried them all over the last nine months.
His mind wandered over the coming meeting as he walked. Anxiety over what to do and say, how his idea and himself would be received and whether it might mean a jump, albeit a small one, up the ladder. Thankfully it had stopped raining but there were puddles everywhere so you needed to watch your step.
"Hallo Beelly" crooned Sasha as he came through the door. She playfully teased him about his looverly cloths and gorrrgeeus hair and called him her bootifull boy. He usually came in wearing nothing more flash than jeans and shirt, maybe a light jacket if it was cool.
He had never quite understood why but she always played up her accent to him. After he had been in a few times he had got her talking and gradually discovered she was University educated and probably smarter than he was. A Chilean émigré that had escaped to a better life after her entire family had been wiped out in a minor, long forgotten, riot. Twelve years later she was running her own little business and doing quite well.
He suspected she believed him gay and a little too shy, more than a few did. Such thoughts never bothered him as he knew who he was and it was harmless. Even the morning she had jokingly introduced him to an outrageously effeminate man that happened to be sitting and sipping as he had entered. It seemed he was a regular latecomer customer, stopping on his way to the night shift at a local gay bar. In this case he hadn't been home yet. Bill doubted he had ever blushed so much in his life and Sasha practically collapsed with laughter at his expression as... he couldn't remember the name had lisped that, ..'you should come in and say hi some night blondie. The bulls would just luuurrvvve you.'
That little encounter had almost prompted him to cut his hair. Hair that he'd kept long since he was 14. And apart from the odd moment like that he enjoyed the look and feel of it, as well he privately admitted, the slight ambiguity it gave his appearance.
Today was just the usual mild teasing that he took with good grace. He headed out the door a few minutes later with his long Columbian cappuccino. Unfortunately as he sipped he didn't notice the seemingly flat reflection of that puddle was not as light as the others. A fact that became very clear as his right foot sank to the ankle in cold water.
Stepping out and closer to the curb he began to mutter curses quietly to himself. As he shook his foot he heard a call...'hey Billy' and looked up to see Dianne coming toward him. She was his immediate boss and truth be told he fancied her something fierce. She was his height, though a few years older, a lovely bubbly brunette with a mischievous streak a mile wide. She had a slight thing for practical jokes but was always careful to keep them away from any possible serious embarrassment or humiliation. She was an equal opportunity jokester; everybody copped it from time to time. She even took it in stride when someone managed to get her back. Bill was NOT a fan of practical jokes but at least she was always 'gentle' with them. She never let anything get out of hand and could crack the whip quite effectively if she needed to. It was seldom necessary. The gang was always pretty easy going and had no major hang-ups or worries about any of their fellow workers. Gay, straight, whatever didn't really matter. They had one each side in the gay camp and Bill often suspected he fell into the 'whatever' group.
He turned further toward her to call a response as a bus cruised past close to the kerb. It was just unfortunate that a pile of leaves had caused a bank up. The resulting puddle suddenly became airborne and Bill found his mouth full of gritty water and his almost dry hair was once again saturated. He blinked once or twice and coughed the water out his nose and mouth. As he stood dripping and silently cursing the universe he noted that the lid on his cup had at least saved his coffee. He took a sip as Dianne hurried toward him, her expression showing the difficulty in trying to decide whether to laugh or commiserate. He shivered slightly as a freezing cold trickle ran down his spine.
Dianne got to him a few seconds later, stopping a pace or two back to look him up and down with mirth flickering in her eyes as she took in his bedraggled state.
"Oh dear me Billy boy, you look a sight. Um, come on, we'll see if we can find you a towel and maybe something to put on. If you're lucky someone will have some spare clothing while your suit dries out. Why all dressed up anyway? Oh... the meeting right."
"Well yeah. I thought I'd go a bit more 'dressy' and look what happens. I think the gods are trying to tell me something. I should have stayed in bed."
"Oh come on. The brief glimpse I had you looked great. We have a couple of hours so maybe the Drycleaners can get you pressed and dried in time. If none of the girls has a hair dryer maybe Mag's can fit you in for a quick style and dry."
She chuckled as she saw his expression, " Maybe a facial and manicure too eh. We want you to look your best after all."
His blush caused her to laugh out loud as she took his hand and led him into the building to the lift. For some reason no one wanted to share and they had it to themselves. Something to do with the squelchy trail they left perhaps. Dianne too kept him at arms length. She felt sorry for him but was still trying, not completely successfully, to stop the giggles.
As the lift rose to their floor he glanced across at his boss and noted the pursed lips and the small hiccup as she tried to hold back a laugh. He smiled a little ruefully at her.
"I guess I look a mess huh. Go on, have a laugh. If I wasn't standing here dripping all over the carpet I'd probably be chuckling too. I just hope my suits ok, it's the only one I own. Don't want my shoes stretched out of shape either. Of course if I get a rise maybe I can afford another pair." His sideways under hair look caused her to lose it and she laughed loudly.
"I'm sorry Billy but yes, you do look a mess and it is sort of funny, as long as it's someone else of course. So you think you're up for a raise do you?" She cocked her eyebrow at him with that last question causing him to blush again. Smirking she answered herself, "...well ya never know Billy boy."
Rita was standing in the lunchroom making a tea as they headed in; she smiled and called a soft hello. Then did a double take as she took in Bills appearance. Rita was Sri Lankan, though you'd say Indian if you didn't know. The slender, graceful young woman had fled an abusive marriage and now made up the girl side of their gay teammates. Paul was the guy half; he wasn't in yet.
"Billy, you need to get out of those clothes immediately, you will catch a chill. I have my tennis gear with me from my game this morning... let me get the track suit... and the socks too I think."
She bustled out and returned a moment later with a pair of pants and a hooded top in a washed out pale pink and grey. The socks were shortie ankle huggers with pink pom-poms at the ankle tendon.
"Here Billy. I am sorry it is not more masculine for you, but you will at least be dry. I promise not to laugh very much." She smiled at him as Dianne smirked in the background.
"Oh I don't know Rita. I'd say pink and grey will look just splendid on our Billy boy. Pity those shoes of yours won't fit... that big pink stripe... just loverly." She smiled widely at them both and winked at Bill to say she was just teasing. "Go on then Billy, into the bathroom and strip off. Toss your shoes up on the windowsill there; maybe they'll dry off. We'll take the rest down to the cleaners; see if they can get them dry in time. Be fun to see you walk down the road in that getup."
Her smile got wider as Bill's expression turned to horror at the thought. With a laugh Dianne shook her head. Rita just smiled slightly and said nothing.
" Oh Billy, Billy. I wouldn't do that to you. I'll take them down as soon as you're stripped off. Come on then, times a wastin'."
A few minutes later a rather sheepish Bill emerged from the bathroom in a well fitting, if a 'little' girly ,looking tracksuit.
Dianne smiled widely as Rita nodded, and pronounced as precisely as she said everything, "It fits you very well Billy. I am sorry it is so girlish a style but you will at least be dry and warm until your own clothes are returned."
"Oh I think he looks just scrumptious, Rita. Just a shame about the shoes, you do have tiny feet. Those pom-poms at the heel are a nice touch. Maybe I can find a pink scrunchie to set it off."
She grabbed Bill's wet things and shoved them into a little white garbage bag, smiling widely all the while as Bill shifted from rueful self-amusement to outright embarrassment every few seconds.
At that precise moment in walked Paul, a tall athletic guy that the word impeccable was seemingly made for. He stopped for a moment and took in the scene, before turning to Bill to pronounce with a totally straight face, "Trying for a new look, eh Bill? Not sure it's quite you. You're more a powder blue person I think." He nodded sagely and proceeded to make a coffee.
Bill blushed, Dianne smirked and Rita just stood quietly observing.
"Well best get this lot down the road for you Bill, see if they can get them dry in the next hour or so. Back shortly."
"Thanks Dianne, I appreciate it. You too, Rita, for the gear, I mean."
Both ladies nodded and everyone headed to their respective desks to begin organising the day.
Over the next 20 minutes the rest of crew wandered in and after brief explanations, ignored Bills outfit. Gillian, the Boss, noted the anomaly as she walked through saying hi to all and sundry. She took in the wet hair and obviously borrowed clothes and assumed she would get an explanation shortly.
Funny how that goes sometimes.
It was about 15 minutes later as Dianne came back in she was waved to Gillian's office and emerged a few minutes later, called for hush and said, "..the meeting has been moved forward to 10. Everyone that's involved get it together, now. You have an hour." She then walked up to Bill.
"Your stuff won't be ready in time, Billy. The earliest they could give me was 12, so we need to get something a bit more appropriate sorted."
It was Rita again that came to the rescue. She overheard Dianne and came over to Bills desk.
"It is perhaps not perfect as a solution, Billy but my black suit is there at the cleaners with my white blouse. I think it would fit you quite well and is not too womanly in styling. Also, the waist has adjustable tabs and will be made to fit. I am just a bit thinner than you there I would suspect. It is a solution you may consider. I have not picked it up from last week, so it is ready. Then all you would need is shoes. There I cannot help I am sorry."
Dianne just stood quietly with her eyebrow cocked at him as he thought.
He knew the suit Rita was talking about. It was a nice tailored woman's jacket and trouser suit; the blouse was a crisp white cotton with French cuffs. Not exaggerated in the styling, just classic tailoring. But ... it was still a woman's suit.
He struggled mentally for a moment trying to make a decision.
It was Dianne that posed the kicker. "Not sure you have a choice here, Billy boy. Your own stuff won't be ready in time and Gillian won't let you in the room looking like that. I think I have an idea for the shoes, too. Up to you but it's either sit it out, or ... Rita's suit."
He struggled mentally for another moment or two before sighing resignedly. "Ok, thanks Rita, I'll give it a try. If it looks OK I owe you one. But if I look stupid ... well I guess I'm out."
Rita nodded and turned to her desk to dig the ticket from her purse. Dianne smiled at him and nodded to Rita as she headed out the door.
"Hey, don't worry, Billy. It'll be fine. I'm sure it will look okay. Be a shame to miss this meeting, I happen to know that if Roger Donaldson is happy, you will get that raise you mentioned. So..."
She watched the expression of joy followed by fear flit across his face. She felt a little sorry for him and gave him a gentle hug around the shoulders.
"Don't worry so much ... it'll be fine."
He didn't need to get anything ready; he'd done that days ago. All he had to do now was sit and sweat.
A few minutes later Carole the receptionist wandered up to him.
"Hi Bill, I hear you have a slight problem. maybe I can help. Plonk your right foot up here."
She patted the edge of his desk, then as he complied she stepped back and pressed her own stockinged foot against his sole. They were almost exactly the same size. Nodding she headed back to the front counter and returned a moment later with a pair of patent slip on flats, "There ya go Billy, they should get you out of trouble for the next few hours. I usually run around the office in those rather than my heels, but I'll survive for a little while."
She leant over and gave him a peck on the cheek, leaving the shoes sitting on the corner of his desk. As he sat staring at them, admittedly they weren't too girly, except for that little bow on the edge of the instep, he became aware of one or two people watching, somewhat amused expressions evident. Blushing again he grabbed the shoes off his desk and placed them on the floor near his rubbish bin. A few quiet chuckles could be heard, he chose not to look up and see who.
'God, can this get any more embarrassing. I should have stayed in bed.'
It was just then that Cathy, the other member of this particular team came up.
"Hey ya Billy, I hear you have a problem."
She leant across and pulled his hair tie off his still wet hair, and proceeded to run her fingers through it. "Ooohh, I've been wanting to do that for ages", she grinned widely. "Come with me, honey bun, I'll give you a quick blow dry in the lunchroom, must have you looking your best for old man Donaldson. You look just a pinch bedraggled at the moment and that will never do. Gillian would have you in the mail room for the next five years if you turned up looking like that."
For the next ten minutes Bill sat and it must be said, greatly enjoyed himself as Cathy ran her fingers back and forth through his hair as she gently blow-dried it. She had it all nice and styled and went to put his elastic back on, but taking one look at the sodden thing took a black satin scrunchie from her bag and used that instead.
"Perfect. There ya go Billy, lookin' good."
He stood and looked in the mirror on the wall turning a little. The ponytail was a bit higher than he usually did it, but it looked good and was dry and shiny, that was the main thing.
"Thanks Cath, that looks great, I really appreciate it."
"You're quite welcome hon. Just knock 'em dead in the meeting, huh?"
Just then Rita bustled in and presented him with the suit and blouse. "Here you are, Billy, try this on and see what you think. I believe it will suit you quite well and will not look out of place."
He took the plastic wrapped hanger a little gingerly and headed to the bathroom. Somewhat reluctantly he stripped down to his briefs and with a wry smile was glad that they at least were guys. Probably a good thing he wore skimpies instead of shorts. Then he proceeded to slip on the blouse and button it, hoping no one would notice that it 'flapped' the wrong way, pulled on the slacks, adjusting the tabs to the end buttons and then slipped on the jacket.
The shoulders were just a pinch tight, but okay. Otherwise as he stood back to get a look in the mirror it fit quite well and looked pretty good. He hoped it was just his knowledge that it was a woman's suit that coloured his perceptions. He thought he looked a bit too girlish. But...
Sighing softly he headed out to find Cath, Rita and Dianne all waiting for him. They looked him up and down and made him turn around a couple of times. Then they all looked at each other and smiled.
"Just one thing, Billy boy, off with the socks. They don't work at all."
Dianne took the tracksuit from him and proceeded to fold it up as Rita handed him a little packet. He glanced at it and went pale. Anklet stockings in 40 denier, black.
Rita shrugged in gentle apology, " I am sorry Billy but that is the best we can do, they will look very much like socks and will not be likely to cause any stretching of Carole's shoes."
Nodding resignedly he returned to his chair and pulled off the pink and white socks, slipped open the packet and gently pulled the anklets on and tried to believe they were in fact just very fine socks. Then he slipped on the shoes and stood again so the girls could get a look.
They all smiled and nodded approval as he stood and turned at a gesture from Dianne.
"Ok guys Billy's sorted, I hope the rest of you are ready, 20 minutes."
He sat and quietly fretted as the others went about the final pulling together of folders and double-checking the laptop link on the internal server and screen. Mostly just nervous fussing that accompanied any presentation slash proposal to a client.
It seemed like only a couple of minutes later that Gillian led 3 well dressed and fit looking men through to the conference room.
Roger Donaldson was a big, gruff but gentle man that ran his company like a family business. It worked very well for him, so he stood just inside the door with Gillian and greeted each member of the presentation team as they came in, smiling a greeting and a rumbled 'hello' to each, he had met most of them before. As lastly Dianne led Bill through the door, she was called up short as Mr Donaldson nodded to her with a murmured 'Dianne' and smilingly took Bills hand, "... and this young lady is? I don't believe we've met."
Gillian stood momentarily speechless with a raised eyebrow look, that for her, was akin to shouting...'just what the hell is going on?!'
She looked at him and still with that questioning, not quite angry look, "Bill?"
Roger Donaldson looked momentarily surprised, until Dianne took Bills other hand, "Bel, short for Belinda, meet Roger Donaldson. Belinda came up with the main slogan on this one."
Bill was almost ready to faint as Gillian's eyebrows rose a bit further and her look turned just a pinch more toward angry.
Bill managed to pull himself together and murmur quietly, "Pleased to meet you Mr Donaldson, I hope you like what we have for you."
"Oh I'm sure I shall young lady." Then clapping his hands together pronounced, "Ok, let's get this show on the road", took his seat as most everyone else did likewise and began getting themselves organised.
It took Gillian another moment to follow as she shot Dianne a look, that very clearly asked...'WELL!' Which Dianne responded to with a rueful shrug and small smile, followed by a Gillian headshake as they in turn, sat.
Then it was business as usual; this was bread and butter stuff after all. Gillian did the initial pitch and then stumbled ever so slightly as she introduced, 'Bill... Belinda', for 'her' part. After a small terrified, rabbit in the spotlight moment, Bill managed to do his bit and get across the feel and tenor of the slogan, sat as Cath took over, followed by Paul. The rest of it went by in a blur as Bill tried to maintain a low profile, read invisible and not draw any attention. The next hour and a half seemed like weeks.
Eventually Bill was roused from his introspective trance as Mr Donaldson clapped his hands together, dry washed and smiling widely looked to his two offsiders in turn, who both nodded.
"Well Gillian I think we have a go here, excellent work from your team, I'm impressed."
Gillian smiled and looked around to her people and smiling nodded to each. Including Bi.. er, Belinda. As she got to him he smiled a little crookedly and she shook her said slightly and then smiled, "... good job Belinda, I think you got your raise."
Words he'd wanted to hear so badly. But... well, not 'exactly' that perhaps. He shrugged ever so slightly and then blushed a deep scarlet. That got a smile from his Boss so he guessed he was safe, but explanations would be wanted he suspected.
Mr Donaldson stood and toasted the group with his water glass.
"I want to thank you all for the fine work you've put in on this campaign. My two colleagues here and indeed I, look forward to working with you all. Now as a gesture of respect and friendship, I believe Gillian has already asked you to keep tonight free, I wish to take the 8 of us to dinner at Tetsuya's. The table was booked 2 months ago, bloody hard to get in, too damn popular, but it is supposed to be brilliant, anyway..." he looked around the table as though checking and counting heads, then... smiling...
"Perfect, 4 boys and 4 girls. Best glad rags kids, tonight is on me and I want you all to enjoy. Two limos are booked, one for the gents and one for the ladies. Pick up times according to where you are and you'll be dropped home afterwards..."
The rest of the short speech went right past Bill as he suddenly went cold and he was sure turned as white as a ghost. 'Oh crap, crap, crap... he's counting me as one of the 4 'girls'. Now what do I do. Just what the hell else can go wrong...'
He looked up to see Dianne and Cath looking at him in quiet appraisal. Dianne had that eyebrow cocked again... now he knew he was in trouble.
The end?
Any thoughts or comments,
I can be contacted - [email protected]
Anything short of abuse welcome.
So... even with all our modern medicine... we can't make a silk purse from a sow's ear.
A slightly dark and not particularly cheery tale. But it needs telling... or at least I need to tell it.
Contains somewhat graphic scenes of a suicide. If that is likely to upset or disturb you. Do Not Read This.
This is a work of adult fiction.
No resemblance to reality should be inferred or expected. Sort of.
Copyright KLS 2007.
By Kristina.L.S.
1.
It was my first meeting with the group... and probably my last. A half dozen would be girls and a psychologist slash moderator. A little room at the drop in refuge centre where meetings were held once a week. I had, after much soul searching, made a phone call to Lifeline and after a bit of umming and ahhing had finally admitted the reason for the call. And here I was, a stranger amongst relative strangers. Though I guessed a few were regulars. At least I had dressed the part. Somewhat clumsily and easily read I was sure. Nervous as hell, but determined.
Then in walked a guy. Maybe 30, so, about 8 years on me I guessed. Tall, slim and very buttoned down business looking. And fully male. He was certainly nervous but just sat and nodded around the table as Kath introduced herself and brought things to order, starting with a quick run through about times and reasons and motives. As soon as everyone had introduced themselves, first names only, there was a momentary silence, until Rosie a small 'girl' with a very butch manner and almost pugnacious air.
"Why are you here?" Staring straight at Phil and glaring distrust.
"You don't have to answer that." Kath responded quietly.
"No... that's ok. I, ah don't mind. You probably all know one another and I'm new and dressed... like this. I look like a typical business man. But what I feel is... ah..." Phil's voice faded as he swallowed and tried to organise his thoughts.
Kath placed a hand and his arm and gestured, enough, with a wave of the other. Everyone took turns then to talk about whatever. I did my bit and told an abbreviated story of why I was there. I caught Phil staring at me, 'another newbie'. I supposed he latched onto that as someone else who was not part of the group. The various tales were by turns, sad, pathetic, angry and hopeless. As things broke up and everyone filed out in silence I vowed that would be the first and last. The almost palpable despair and negativity left me confused, a little afraid and alone, again.
As I turned to head toward my car, arms tightly crossed in front and generally somewhat 'clenched', I noticed Phil heading my way.
"Excuse me. Ah, Kris was it? I don't know about you... but, well I need a drink after that and I think you're as bummed as I am." He must have seen the indecision and my desire to leave.
"Please, I just need to talk to someone for a little while and you seem like you're alone as well and..." his voice faded again as it had inside. I could see the sorrow and certainty of rejection in his eyes. I tried to relax a little and took a breath.
"Sure Phil. The Rex is just round the corner. I guess I could use a drink too and that was... just a little too much pessimism for one evening. Not quite what I was looking for, or you for that matter I think. I could go a quick one."
"Yeah. You got that right. You, ah... thanks, you seem like you're somewhat together and at least making a go of it. So... I, um just need to talk if you don't mind."
And so we did. Three hours later with a somewhat one-sided swapping of stories we parted. I perhaps injudiciously chanced my hand and drove, almost certainly over the limit. But I made it home unscathed with thoughts of a life story rolling around my head. Not too different from my own, if separated by several years and different experience.
That turned out to be a false start, for me anyway. It was five years before I met Phil again.
I was playing in a band and had just finished a set in the Inner City Hotel that was that night's employer. As I sat with a tall mineral water a timid voice came from behind.
"Kris? Is that you?"
Sighing, I turned to see... Phil... or a drag Phil anyway. There never had been a big jump from boy... to girl, Kristina. Never super girly...but...
Phil on the other hand...
"Hi... Um, I go by Sara now...Um... so... You?"
"Well as you can see it's turn-about. I'm in guy mode this time..." I shrugged apologetically and flashed a crooked smile.
"Well... not to break with tradition too much. Could we ah... get together when you're done. You know catch up..."
I sighed mentally. Damn, I really didn't need this. I had enough trouble keeping myself together.
"Sure... ah, Sara. Got another set in about 20 and then about one and a half till it's all sorted. Meet you in the front bar a bit after 1, ok?"
She smiled and nodded. We spent the next 15 minutes silently sipping and day... night-dreaming. As various passers by made a casual observation. Two, slightly strange looking people. One was a muso with the band. The other... well... there was no doubt what the other was.
It was a little over two hours before I joined Ph.., Sara in the front bar.
We got caught up, with me doing most of the talking this time. The why of not still being Kristina but instead... that took a while. For her part it was all shrugs and vague, '...yes I'm much happier' or ' I'm more peaceful. More centred now'. The lie of it written in the shadowed expression and constantly flicking eyes, as they measured the expressions and appraisal of all that passed.
We parted after a couple of hours, fortunately of coffee this time, with phone numbers and a slightly one-sided desire to keep in touch.
2.
And we did. As I gradually made my way back to Kristina, 'she' seemed to need more contact and I was unable or unwilling to turn away. We traded phone calls every few weeks over the next year or so, probably 4 to 1 from her to me. I moved once, she moved 12 times. I changed jobs 3 times, she had 3 jobs, briefly and was unemployed the rest.
We met up and talked, well, mostly she talked and I sort of listened. It was almost a chore. A sad and lonely tale I did not want to know about. But I did listen and try, if half heartedly to offer comfort or advice or just an ear, maybe a shoulder on occasion. Embarrassed? No I wasn't embarrassed, just not wanting the negative, the stigma, to rub off.
Sara was a tranny. A guy in a dress, probably always would be. Yes it was discussed and worked at. But it was and always would be with more than the most cursory appraisal obvious that Sara was a ' fiction '.
And by association, people looked a little closer at me and found me wanting as well. If we were together that's what I was as well. Even if I mostly blended in ok, in her company I was, other, as was she. And that... was not comfortable.
But for whatever reason she wanted, needed the 'friendship' so we kept in touch. Talked and kept up with each others progress. Mostly public phone to my home line, then after a few years, mobile to mobile. Which on occasion had me questioning the rationale of being 'available' anywhere, anytime.
Sara rang me on my Thirtieth, to wish me a happy birthday. We talked for a while and I sensed a... distance that had not been there before. We arranged to meet up a few days later. A date she missed.
Two weeks later she rang again, seeming more... away, than before. We met up that night and caught up to date. She was gruffer and withdrawn. Talking was more one sided... I had to carry it. Most unusual.
We bounced calls back and forth over the next few months. Each one seeming harder and more talk than listen.
She came into the bar I was working in just before closing one night. Took one look at my face and left as I glared my lack of appreciation at her attempted greeting. I needed this job and I did not need everyone 'looking' at me. She had been up and bubbly, something I hadn't seen for a while. But one glance had blown that away. It was two weeks of messages and grunted one syllable responses before we spoke again. Guilt? Oh hell yes. But I had to live too. This was not easy for anyone, ever.
The year dribbled by and became another and stumbled along, month by month, as we re-established a pattern of call and talk. Thirty-one came and went, as did Christmas and New Years. Sara had a job and a new garden apartment. I began a semi regular visit for coffee and chat. Once or twice stayed the night as talk turned to drink turned to mutual stupor. But much as we might silently bitch and moan about aloneness and the universe's petty minded cruelty, there was always someone worse off. A lot worse, as we one night traded drunken sob stories of rejection and self-absorbed angst. She 'won', but it burned out pretty quickly as we drunkenly admitted that no matter how bad, half the world would swap places in a heartbeat.
Things changed a short while later. Calls were cut short. An air of jollity put forth as the state of play. After a few weeks of nothing I dropped round at dinnertime after an early shift. Sara greeted me blearily and made no pretence at cheer. The place was a mess. So for the next few hours, once I'd bought milk, we drank coffee and tidied. I didn't ask and she didn't tell.
There were a few late night messages left on the machine. She knew my hours, I think better than I did. If the phone rang at 2am I knew who it was and lay in bed in the dark listening and every now and again offering a word of sympathy or agreement. It began to grate.
I had moved recently. Further out, away. New jobs and all was rosy and bright. At least that was the theory. I called occasionally. Hers were sporadic and seemed in retrospect, brittle.
I got home late one night, actually it was very early, from an after work get-together. A few drinks followed by dinner at a city Chinese.
The message light was blinking.
...clunk...sshhhhhsshh..." hello Kris", ' oh, shit I am not in the mood...', " ...by the time you get this it won't matter..."
A feeling... red and blue flashers in the rear-view, Job interview nerves, a room of, 'normal' people, 'looking' at... you. And then whatever was left of my balls got kicked into my throat by someone that knew how to kick.
I stood there for... I don't really know how long. Maybe twenty minutes. Picked up my bag and keys and drove the forty minutes it took at 5 in the morning.
3.
Yes, I knew where the key was, but I didn't, couldn't, just make a call. I suppose it was like one of those scenes from a crappy horror movie. You just know if you go in there something BAD is going to happen. The place was spotless. Cleaner than I'd ever seen it. Probably cleaner than it had ever been. Silent and empty. Well sort of empty. The bathroom light was on and I pushed it open slowly and stepped in. It mostly glistened.
She'd bitched about that old rubber plug many times, but never replaced it. She'd adopted soaking and the water always slowly drained away. 'Forced her to get out', she joked.
Everything just below the lip of the tub was stained with a pinkish smear. Sara lay head back and eyes closed, whiter than any white man, or woman, could ever be. The nylon nightgown that had been meant to preserve... had ridden up as she had slid down slightly, exposing the puckered, semi smooth wound at the junction. The smeared knife sat to the side on the tile lip between tub and wall, as did a bunched up, formerly white face cloth. Now stained a watery pink, with a greasy crimson trickle trailing down into that pink smear.
I walked out and sat on the doorstep, leaning against the door jam. Did I cry? I think so. It was nearly an hour before I made a call to emergency.
"Emergency...which service do you require?... Ambulance, please, but it's not an emergency, just..." I gave address and such. At least I presume I did. Some time later a girl in ambulance gear and wearing blue latex gloves gently shook my shoulder as her partner stood a metre or so back and watched silently. I told them what and where.
Funny thing about bathrooms, sound echoes and carries. They walked past me and... I heard a deep muttered, 'oh fuck' followed by a softer, 'what could make anyone do that to themselves?' a soft cough, '...well I hope you can never answer that question.' They came back a moment or two later and stood waiting silently. A few minutes? A couple of cops came and then later, all sorts of others and vague interrogations. They seemed pleased I had a tape machine, not a digital.
A few days later a cop came by and collected the tape for the coroner. I was told when and where the funeral was to be. He thought I wanted to go. Did I?
I paced about as all five people went in, then snuck in and sat at the back. A brief non-denominational, gender non-specific service. I walked away as the box slipped through that curtain.
A few days later I went out and bought a dog.
Epilogue.
"... it won't matter. Sorry... but... Everyone gets born with a chance, but that's all it is, a chance. I couldn't make mine work. Nobody's fault, so don't go blaming yourself. If it's anyone's it's mine. Or the universe or whatever. Rectify a fault... at least my knickers 'll fit for once. Guess ya can't make a silk purse from a sow's ear. See ya in another life maybe. Stay strong."... tick, tick, tick... beeeep... clunk.
It was maybe a week later as I sat on the grass with a fluffy little black puppy. Tears... closely followed by sobs as I sat and bawled in loss and self pity. Puppy didn't have a clue, just climbed on my knee and licked the salty trickle.
Any thoughts or comments I can be contacted - [email protected] Anything short of abuse welcome.
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…a dry martini of a Fetishy cliché, a good dollop of raw home made spirit with a dash of insouciance and a twist of lime…
Symbiotic; a mutually supportive relationship… at least that's how I choose to see it.
Dependence and inter-dependence, give and take. One side or the other, but are we always on one side of the line? Does it shift, or perhaps the question is, what would make you cross?
This is a work of adult fiction.
No resemblance to reality should be inferred or expected.
Copyright KLS 2009.
He was waiting there, as she had known he would be. A gentle request that they should meet and discuss their… relationship. To be fair that was too grand a word for what they shared, at least thus far, but she did hope that would change. How he responded to what she said would decide that. Leaving such a thing to another's whim was not something she did easily, but this time there was no choice.
Her eyes wandered up and down as she gazed appreciatively at him from a small distance before he became aware of her and adjusted. He sat at the outside table partly shielded from the soft morning sun. He was beautiful, slender, delicate almost, a feminine man in age but seemingly more the boy. And he loved her as he had repeatedly said. Even lounging as he was in the padded aluminium chair he had a grace that belied maleness and yet he was male and wanted her. But she… wanted something else.
She slipped unnoticed for a moment into the chair opposite.
"Hello Paul, I'm glad you're here, we need to decide if we have a possibility of making something together. I hope so, but I need to lay out what I… require. You must decide if you wish to… or can."
He had straightened noticeably as soon as he was aware of her, his posture perfect and his attention focused on her, his soft brown eyes gazing adoringly but with some puzzlement as she spoke.
"You know I will do anything for you Diane, I love you and wish to be with you always." His eyes lowered and he clenched his hands slightly before taking a breath and looking her in the eyes again. "I love you, though I know I am not the most manly of men. You are taller, probably stronger, older, more experienced and worldly so I am hardly a catch in one sense. "
He paused and flicked his gaze from one of her dark blue eyes to the other trying to read her thoughts. The sun sparkled on her flowing honey blonde hair and he sighed at how lovely she was.
She smiled at his innocence, this gentle almost girlish boy man. A small flutter of fear warred with the desire. She wanted him, but not in any way he had ever considered, of that she had little doubt.
"Do you recall Paul, the day we first met here some months ago?" She paused waiting for him to nod.
"Yes of course I do. I fell instantly in love and have been hoping to win you ever since."
"Ah yes, such a gentle and polite pursuit. You really are a lovely person." She smiled warmly. "You asked what I was drawing on my pad and I closed it before you could see. I said I would show you when I thought you might understand it. You shrugged slightly and replied that you would love to see when I was ready to show it."
" Yes that sounds about right. I did wonder if you were some sort of abstract artist and were used to people frowning, not recognising what they were seeing. "
She laughed delightedly and watched with a grin as he blushed and sat back brushing his long wavy brown hair behind his right ear. A movement so unconsciously girlish that her heart beat quickened and she licked her lips.
"This is the drawing I did that day, I would be interested in your impression." She slid the parchment like A4 sheet across the table and watched his reaction as a hawk watches for a foraging mouse to pause.
His eyes widened and he swallowed as a light blush lit his face once again. Then he straightened in his chair and shuffled in his seat obviously slightly uncomfortable all of a sudden.
Her smile widened as his breathing quickened slightly and she knew what caused his mild discomfort. Sliding her chair around the table she stopped beside him and leant in so she could feel his reactions and almost taste his sweat. He could smell her soft scent and his nostrils flared as his eyes flicked to her, he swallowed and looked again at the drawing he held.
"So my dear Paul, what do you see? How does it make you feel?" There was husky edge to her voice now that made him nervously shift in his seat and then he deliberately straightened so they were almost touching shoulders again.
"Umm, I… ah, it's not abstract. I…"
"Does it excite you Paul? Do you fear what you see? Who is she Paul?" She languidly dropped her left hand to rest softly in his lap the cause of his discomfort pulsing under the palm of her hand. Twitching in indecision and animal longing.
Her right hand grasped the edge of the drawing and lifted it slightly so it was more upright in front of them. He turned and gazed deeply into her eyes and again tried to read her thoughts. All he saw was the intense blue heat of an oxy torch and he shivered and again as the small movement made the hand resting where it was much more prominent in his mind. She smiled as he gulped a few times and slowly turned back to look.
"She is, I guess a captive perhaps some conquest, but… I don't know. She is not afraid, looks almost proud and maybe even aroused."
"Hmmm, yes, what else? Describe her to me."
"Umm, height I would guess average for a girl, maybe a pinch above. Long dark hair pulled into a single plait and tied with a ribbon. Hoop earrings… and um, full but not big, ah and other smaller hoops in her… um…"
"Yes Paul, her nipples. And what else?"
"Ah, she has other rings down… and a sort of pin or rod running down and pressing…"
"Yes, she has what might be a chastity device fitted to her pubis."
His gaze flicked to her and back again as she felt him twitch, doubting he could be more aroused. "Keep going Paul."
"There is a small disk dangling at the bottom of the… ah, pin. She is cuffed hands above her head a chain going off above. Her ankles are likewise chained to rings in the floor. Her, black probably, ankle boots have spike heels, maybe three inches, black stockings and suspender straps from a, black again I would guess, corset tightly trimming her waist. This pushes up her breasts and makes the rings there more prominent. "
She pulled the drawing toward them as a waitress approached and coffees were ordered.
With a brief glance at where Diane's hand sat the waitress smiled and winked as Paul blushed once more. Nothing was said until the coffees arrived and they sipped, Diane's hand idly brushing back and forth, to keep the edge on.
"So Paul what else? How does she look? How does she make you feel?"
"She has a lovely figure, helped of course by the corset. She seems proud almost happy to be chained as someone looks at her. I… well you can tell I am aroused, she's beautiful and enticing and captive to whoever is there."
"Yes she is, you have not described her face."
"She's um… pretty. A slightly long but delicate featured face. Full lips and open expressive eyes with a hint of longing in them. She is ready and willing for… I don't know. Full brows slightly shaped, a little makeup I guess but that's not obvious with the pencil shading."
"Does she remind you of anyone?"
"N… no, I don't think so. But, maybe, just…" He frowned and blushed once more as her hand pressed gently.
"Look at her Paul." She leant in close and whispered in his right ear. " You my dear Paul are everything I seek." She licked his ear lobe and felt him shiver as he twitched under her palm.
"I need a certain type of lover. You are that type, but you need to listen and then decide if you can be what I need and I think what you need too. " Her right hand rested on his right knee and her head leant on his shoulder as she whispered on.
"You my dear are a classic submissive. I am a dominant, together we make a whole that lacks one without the other, neither complete. Yet I have no desire at all for a man. I like them as friends or associates but never as a lover. So… I ask again do you recognise the girl in the drawing?"
"I… no, I don't." He gulped again and shifted uncomfortably in his seat.
She smiled though he couldn't see it he could hear it her voice. " Yes you do, don't you? I saw you sitting there and I drew what I felt. The last few months I have been trying to get to know you and decide if what I saw then was real and how to approach you. This is I am sure something you have no knowledge of. But that is what I saw in you, a glimpse of a future that might be."
"What. But that's… I'm a man, I…" He fell silent again as her hand pressed gently and he straightened involuntarily.
"You are a beautiful feminine man and that is what makes this possible. We can be together, lovers, partners a tighter bond than most marriages. Mistress and slave, not an abuse but a mutual bond based on trust and love." His whole body twitched as she had spoken. "I know a lady, a friend that runs a beauty spa. I have an appointment for you. I will be with you I assure you, there's no way I would not be. You would enter the cubicle and strip. She will wash and then slightly trim your hair, tying it back in the single plait with a black silk ribbon." She nibbled his ear lobe and felt the shiver and another twitch.
"Then a full body wax everything below the neck, followed by some lovely creams and lotions to smooth and soften. Then a complete facial, your brows shaped slightly and ears pierced, silver hoops. While you sit back with the cleansing mask on she will strap your arms down and then your legs into the stirrups and work on your little boy. A few uncomfortable minutes as she presses to split the muscle fibres below your scrotum, opening an internal passage into the pelvic cavity without cutting. Then your little balls will be pushed up into this opening, I believe this is a little painful but only momentarily. Then she will pull your little peeny inside itself and push it into your belly holding it there with some medical adhesive. The next few minutes will be strange as she tugs and shapes your loose skin into the semblance of a girls vulva again using the glue. Now… a small steel catheter will be pushed into your now hidden little boys head, leaving a small nub protruding. A template will be pressed over this guide point and the points for piercing marked."
She paused to judge his reactions at this point. Breathing was rapid and his heart was racing, she could feel it through his neck and her left hand was moving as he twitched and shifted. The heat rose from him as he panted.
"Then eight small polished steel rings, top and bottom and two, two and two. She will pull them together in pairs and slide the curved pin through, bottom two pair first, pressing the small opening for the catheter nub and then through the top pair. This is a tight fit to keep everything close and enhance the look. Finally the single top point will be fixed with a small smooth polished lock nut and the same at the base with the small silver disk dangling. On that disk is two initials, a capital D for Diane a diagonal slash and a smaller below the slash capital P for Paula." She squeezed her hand slightly at this and felt his whole body stiffen and a gasped indrawn breath.
"Yes, that's right and you can picture the image as I drew it. I don't need or want a man and you will not be, nor will it be an issue for long. Next as you recover from this she will finish cleansing your face and make you up. A light feminine look lips a little plumped to enhance your pout." She kissed his neck and throat and felt the pulse under the skin, smelt the light earthy musk rising from him.
"A manicure with small extensions and a pedicure with a soft red polish on all your neatly shaped nails. Your hands will be lovely, much more feminine. Toes, so cute."
She chuckled as he shivered visibly and twitched some more beneath her hand.
"Now, at this point you will be released from the bonds and sheer black stockings rolled up your legs and the stiletto heeled ankle boots laced onto your feet. I will help you stand as she slips the black silk corset around your torso and settles it at your hips, fastens the front busk and while I hold you upright your arms outstretched she will tighten the laces. Once done she will slide her hand into the cups pulling up the bunched flesh and slipping some enhancers into the base of each to further the illusion of breasts." She again nibbled his throat and ear and felt him twitch and shiver, he had not said a word for minutes as she spoke, the only sounds he made were small gasps and gulped breaths.
"Then my dear Paula while I keep hold of your hands she will fasten slender cuffs to your wrists and ankles, again a lightly polished steel. Fine; more like jewellery than potential restraints, but certainly strong enough. Lastly I will place a similar collar around your lovely slender neck. I will lean in and kiss you softly on your glistening lips as I hold your gentle slim hands with the shaped and painted tips our fingers clasping in shared passion. "
She lifted her hand and turned his head to her and kissed him softly, paused as he shuddered and grunted and she thought was going to come as the pulsing increased beneath her hand, but his breath slowed after a moment and he relaxed slightly, his eyes closed. Her hand lowered again to its resting place in his lap.
"Still with me lover?" She felt him nod ever so slightly. "Right… at this point I will push your hands together behind your back and the cuffs will lock together. I'll clip a plaited leather leash to your collar and lead you gently to the full-length mirror to view the new you for the first time. I expect you will be somewhat mixed emotionally with what you see."
" I… said… anything. " His voice was strained and tense. "I mean what I say, I always do… I love you." He had surprised her with this gentle outburst and it seemed he was going to say more but he stopped and stilled himself with an obvious effort.
"Ah, my lovely girl, I'm impressed. I knew you had strength, I love that you show it to me, here and now." She pressed her forehead against his… no enough of that… 'her' cheek and took a deep breath of his fear and arousal. "Oh my Paula what a pairing we will make. So there you are looking at yourself for the first time the pupae of that drawing, the inspiration, the bud of the flower within. Once you have stopped shaking and the realisation of just how sensual a female you make takes hold, well there is another small detail. So I lead you back to the bench and get you to lean forward while she steps close and brushes across your hips with an alcohol wipe. A small cut on the left, some pressure as something is pressed in and then a spray to hold it closed. This is the anti androgen implant, to stop your body absorbing male hormones. The action is repeated on the right this time a mixed progesterone and oestrogen implant to begin the feminisation of your body. Lastly an injection of primogyn to kick start the process."
She paused to gather her thoughts as the whole situation was driving her up the wall with desire. She nuzzled 'her' neck and pressed her hand against the twitching animal under the cotton trousers.
"Oooh, you have no idea how hot this is making me my beauty. You see here we are on the cusp of a new life together and you… fighting with yourself at the base attraction for the image you give. The fear of who she is and what being her costs you and the pure almost beyond yourself desire to give all that you are and will ever be to me… your Mistress. To submit body and soul to my desire and know that binds me as much as you. Trust is the key, to know I will take and push and demand but never too far. Never what you really cannot give and that is my burden, one I take willingly. "
She paused once more, moving her left arm to hug 'her' gently as she kissed the silken cheek. Her right hand moved from knee to groin and pressed the advantage.
"So my sweet devoted slave." She felt the twitch at that word. "Yes I know… this is all new to you, but it is who you are, I assure you and I think in part you know that already. To give yourself… to kneel at my feet and pleasure me with your sweet and willing mouth. To take my masculine add on, to lick and suck and show your Mistress how feminine you are, how accepting of that most girl to boy action, leaving a lipstick ring low down. Finally to be taken, penetrated and revel in the explosive feelings of complete submission. You know, it will be weeks and your nipples will be super sensitive then become more normal in the womanly sense. A sort of puberty I suppose. Over months your body will soften and with constant corseting and effort you will be perfect. I expect no less, hair and makeup, immaculate. The tension between your remaining masculinity will fade both emotionally and physically. You will wear a corset at all times, heels and skirts or dresses. I will decide what and when but once that is established you may choose." She licked 'her' cheek and felt again that now familiar shiver, something she knew she would never tire of.
"Oh my beauty, you test my will, but no not yet, the reality is not yet, you need to hear and then bow to it with pride and joy in the giving. And my heart will swell with lust and love and power and pride that you are mine. I will slip a close fitting silken halter dress on your new shape and lead you out and home, to our home from that moment on. It will take time and effort but you will be mine and willingly... lovingly. You will dress as I desire, from the black satin maids uniform to serve my guests at dinner, the silken fluid shift that reveals as much as it covers as we walk into a club and arouse the envy and passion of all who see, who and what we are to each other and later, whatever else I and then you desire. Over time, yes you will have those small yet firm breasts and I will take you back to have the rings you have seen placed there. And we will love them won't we. "
Ah almost there she thought, a few more little details. She gently chewed 'her' ear lobe once more. She enjoyed the closeness and the resultant shiver.
"One further thing my lovely. That drawing where is it that she stands do you suppose? I know you have no idea but I'll tell you. It's a stage, a half circle in a club I attend now and then. You are there, centre of attention of perhaps fifty… perhaps more. Plus the focus of your desire and pride is that I am circling just there, not quite in view, tapping a riding crop against my thigh as I work the moment before striking." She smiled a dreamy ever so slightly lustful smile.
"Your pride is that I am there and have chosen to show you like this. And so I strike and you squeal slightly and smile and straighten and await… and it is not long before another and many. You gasp and squirm but of course cannot escape and truthfully you do not want to. Yes there are tears but there are moans of pleasure too and finally with a quick flurry you come, there for me, in front of the crowd and you are proud and rightfully so."
She paused for a moment to still herself, her desire evident in her eyes and voice.
"I will hug you close and kiss your tears as I move to release your bonds, a stage hand could, but I choose to and will always do so for you. Then I will lead you to a room upstairs and you will love me and then I you, until we lie together at peace and together almost as one. We will talk of what this is and where it might go, your fears and perhaps mine. Would I share you? Ah no my precious, though perhaps in some minor way with a few close friends. No we have a bond and that is a precious thing. All this is in the future, perhaps a year from now, perhaps a little less." She shrugged at that and stroked his… her cheek, her right giving a small squeeze.
"So my sweet love, we come to it. Can you feel this? Does it cry to you with truth beyond the surface confusion? Take a moment and give me your thoughts."
With that she sat back and looked calm and composed as she sipped her still slightly warm coffee. But her stomach churned and her heart beat a rapid tattoo. Was she right? Had she truly divined the future for Paula and herself? With an effort she gazed languidly almost indifferently at 'her' profile as 'she' sat beside her.
There was a small almost imperceptible movement as Paula straightened in her chair and turned to gaze deeply into Diane's eyes. Staring deeply and shifting from left to right and back as though to see what she chose to keep hidden. With a small almost cheeky smile she spoke.
"Diane, I love you."
If you can't handle bouncing viewpoints and my possibly idiosyncratic use of English that gets a pinch rough now and then, well might be best if you read something else. Just a thought. An Abba song? Oh get out. Love story? You tell me.
Love and desire. Risk a friendship perhaps by baring your soul. Take a chance on love.
If you can't handle bouncing viewpoints and my possibly idiosyncratic use of English that gets a pinch rough now and then, well might be best if you read something else. Just a thought. An Abba song? Oh get out. Love story? You tell me.
This is a work of adult fiction. No resemblance to reality should be inferred or expected.
Copyright ~ kls 2011.
Take a Chance
By Kristina.L.S.
Oh yeah, I loved her no question. She was the coolest, smartest, quirkiest, sexiest bitch I'd ever met, how could I not. Okay, let me paint a picture here. See, I'm the on the cusp of successful Muso type that will never be anything else. Doesn't matter that I can play and sing and arrange and produce to a level above most that matter in the 'industry', I don't meet the image requirements.
See I'm a skinny little girly boy in appearance. So while I may be a bit on the gentle side of your regular blokey bloke I am still just that... a guy. A bit androgynous by appearance if not exactly inclination, I am no he man macho wanker either. I try to be nice and polite, which it must be said confuses people. And I'm not sixteen.
It's curious that even those that espouse diversity and inclusion feel inclined to pigeonhole without a thought. Yes I get the benefit of the doubt as to being a 'regular' guy, but the fact is that most view me with a pinch of suspicion or at least curiosity.
Yeah okay I don't dress strictly regular guy, a bit floaty and colourful if you must know. But not too flamboyant, read Gay. I just don't really get the whole sexual stereotypical dynamic thing. I mean for fucks sake people are not that rigid anywhere anytime no matter what some may wish to believe, or tell you they do.
Okay sorry, got a bit sidetracked there. Yes I love Elizabeth, hah, she hates being called that. She is the most brilliant wonderful amazing woman I have ever known. Yet I am 'a friend' and will never be more so to preserve some degree of emotional balance and involvement that's where we are. I think she likes girls really but she goes both ways and she has taste and style in people as much as anything else. To be honest a skinny little five foot eight femmy boy of questionable sexuality doesn't really shake her tree. But she likes my company now and then. So hey, take what you can get huh. I mean what would you do? Hang with someone you love and admire now and then or bow to the well meaning girls that want to make you over into a regular man to take home to mother or the gay cruisers that would rip you up and drop you in the neighbouring spa . Well some were worse than a Jewish mother, but that was worse in it's own way. Shit, are you confused? Sometimes I am.
So anyway. Liz calls me up as she does now and then. I'm an itinerant musician with irregular regular gigs and a spotty income, but I do okay. She's a high roller Event manager type. Makes a shitload dealing with prissy idiots with too much money and assorted would be high flyers with delusions of societal importance. The party of the decade or THE Gig in the winery with Elton or Billy or Barbara. Hell, I'll admit I would grovel a bit for a few tickets to some of the do's she puts on.
I might not be some gay boy that thinks Fanny Girl is the highpoint of western civilisation, but she is still one hell of a singer. Funny Girl? Oh, sorry.
Anyway. There I was with a couple of weeks free and back in Sydney from home base which was Melbourne these days, at a bit of a loose end when Lizzie calls up and says hey, want to come over for dinner Friday and hang about for a bit.
She sounded a bit... umm, unsure or hesitant or I dunno, just off somehow. That was very un Liz like. I mean this is the quintessential uber chickie. Well in the modern go getter woman in control type sense anyway. You know, Armani ladies suit, Jimmy Choos and rich lips. No shrinking violet this one. Partly why I love her, though I know she doesn't notice that. She's five ten and makes confident men and most women bow before they realise they are doing so. It's not a superiority thing, it's just I dunno, aura or something. She just is, a force of nature playing the game and making it work in this new century go girl world. Classy and subtly sexy in a mildly conservative way. She doesn't do flash or frills or man shirt short skirt type stuff, she was just damn smart and good at what she did.
She could buy and sell me fifty times though that didn't mean shit when we got together. We were friends pure and simple, long established and easy. She three years up to my thirty. We are easy together, no bullshit, talk and laugh and drink and swear and eat and drink. Priorities, ya know.
So here I am ringing the bell and for some odd reason I feel nervous. Why? Fucked if I know. I mean we know each other inside and out and have seen the best and worst the night before, during and the morning after. So what's up then?
~~~~~~~~~~~~
Oh come on girl. Have you totally lost your fucking mind. These last few weeks you've been a total bloody screw up. Seriously, it is not a good idea to play the emotional hormonal teenager when you're a successful early thirties business woman. Christ you have changed outfits what.... eight times. Fancy dresses to business style to this, what... renovation grunge? Yoga pants and long T over designer knickers. Check the bloody mirror, maybe you should put an artful smudge on the cheekbone and forehead. Shit you have bloody lost it girl.
You have known this guy for what... ten years? That multi tent, multi style city of Sydney Oz day thing. New bloody Millennium crap Olympics in the wind later in the year and you'd been doing the wander around and check up type thing. For some strange bloody reason this skinny little almost gay boy singing and strumming and having fun and making everyone nearby almost by default have fun caught her attention.
She waited till he finished his set and they got talking. No phoney bullshit and right then as a relative newb in this game she needed no phoney bullshit and they became friends. An odd match that wasn't a match because she mostly liked girls and if she fancied a guy he probably wasn't what she had in mind but...
He became her best friend. Was her best friend, no doubt at all. Always there, smart and just that touch of cynicism to make her smile. Oh crap are you insane? Did you catch some bloody brain eating virus or something?
No one could make you smile and look at things like he could. Just his bloody name, Caradoc, bloody Welsh for beloved or something. Call me Car. His Mum used to call him Cara he said with a silly grin. Shit, it was a year before you dragged that out one slightly drunken night.
Yeah okay so he got the nickname Lizard out of you when you went through that grungie period in Uni. Not really a fair swap, I mean Caradoc? Seriously, some parents need smacking about the head a bit. But then....
Then you get this bloody invite, one of several hundred that lob during a given year. Just another bloody charity trying to be cute. But this one... damn this one struck a long lost if ever acknowledged at all, buried and hidden...what? What is the word for it? Quirk maybe? Peccadillo? Oddity? Kink? Shit.
Fuck girl, you're pissed.
Christ why so bloody nervous, you've known this guy for years, but... Oh for fucks sake, just answer the bloody door already.
~~~~~~~~~~~~
The door swings open and there she is, gorgeous as ever and even dressed down my heart skips a beat. Treacherous bloody lump of muscle. Yet she looks... what, disappointed, hurt? Oh hell, is she in trouble of some sort? Damn, come on Lizzie girl, talk to me.
What's with the fake smile then? Stranger at a party come in small talk, what the hell? She's trying to appear normal yet something is obviously off, damn, she noticed my expression change and stops cold looking almost afraid. I'm starting to feel that way myself, something is seriously wrong here.
A raised right hand forefinger gently pressed to my lips as I start to speak stops me and with a sad expression and a gesture. I drop the shoulder bag which is suddenly awfully bloody heavy and sit as she heads into the kitchen and returns with two glasses of red. I get mine and she curls on the other lounge opposite, her right leg tucked under, a metre or so away but seemingly a whole lot more. I try to sit and sip calmly but my stomach is rolling, like waiting for the firing squad or something. Ulcers are supposed to be a bloody virus right, not nervous tension? I bloody hope so.
~~~~~~~~~~~~
" Hey Car, yeah I'm a little messed up as you can tell. Sorry to do that to you", a shrug and pause as she shifts a bit to get comfortable or maybe gather her thoughts...nerve?
"Ummm, we've been friends a while. A long while and know each other pretty well I think. But... well something happened a few weeks back, totally out of the blue and in no way expected. " She shifted a little and looked away, then very deliberately looked back, straight at me, her eyes flicking left to right as she tried to read me or something. What's to read? She knows pretty much all there is.
"Okay this is tough and I know I'm making you damn uncomfortable and I apologise. Just... I'm finding it tough to look at this one as being anything but a loser all round. That makes me very sad and I know I am making no bloody sense at all. Shit Liz, just spill." She paused again and took a gulp of wine followed by a very deep long sigh.
"You know in my job I get all these invites, sometimes freebies for publicity and such, sometime insider industry quid pro quo things and often charity do's trying to get bods on seats for whatever cause. So... a few weeks back I get this invite. Just another charity thing that I glanced at and tossed in the bin. But it sat there in the back of my head, the theme I mean. Kept rolling about and whispering at me. Drove me bloody mad, so I pulled it out of the bin and sat it on my desk and looked at it. I even shouted at the bloody thing...WHAT?? Fortunately maybe it didn't answer, but that may have been a blessing. Confirmed I'd gone mad. " She jumped up and took another gulp, paced a bit before flopping down again.
"Confused? Shit, I am and I sorta know what's going on. At least I've had a bit of time to roll this idea about. Strangely I don't find it that odd anymore. In fact I really hope it doesn't cause us to fall apart. I wish... " another deep sigh and this time I have to speak.
"Come on Liz, like you said, we know each other pretty well and I think trust each other if not completely, a lot. I seriously doubt anything you say would cause me to walk out that door and not come back. So please..." I waved a hand about in a whatever it is let it flow type gesture.
"Right, well we'll see what you think in a few minutes huh." She sighed again and looked down at the floor.
"Fuck Liz, if you don't tell me I'll probably have a bloody heart attack or something, you're scaring the shit outa me. So please...."
She raised her face and there were actual tears. She was crying and I felt the world tilt and a pain I couldn't explain settle in my gut.
"Oh Car, you beautiful boy. I know you love me, you have for a long time and you think I don't see it. Believe me I worried about that for quite a while. Do I just stop taking your calls or ringing you? What's the best thing, you know. But I figured as long as we both had this idea it was just friends and let each other do their own thing it was cool and no harm. I watched you go through a few brief relationships and wondered what would happen if you married one of them, fell in love all that. Selfish fuckin' bitch huh."
"Shit Lizzie." My turn to take a big gulp of wine. Finished the glass and jumped up stopping for a second to hold a hand out for hers which she passed across. Into the kitchen to see one empty and another half gone bottle. Okay Liz so you're working the booze a bit here. Courage or what?
I wandered back out my thoughts churning. Handed her glass and sat again taking a sip to give me another second or two. Pasted a crooked grin in place which made her tear up again. Crap.
"Yeah, fair cop love. I've been in love with you for a few years. Sorta crept up on me. One of those things you can't really do anything about except maybe how you handle it. I honestly thought you didn't know. Stupid of me I guess. Anyway, I... ah, well I wrestled with that a bit too, much as you did maybe if not from the same position." Okay a moments silence to gather thoughts, come on brain...work.
"So umm, yes I love you." A shrug and a blush before a glance across to see her smiling crookedly, a tear sitting on her right cheek and biting her bottom lip. A surprisingly vulnerable and very girly gesture. That alone told me we had a problem here. I just didn't have a clue exactly what it was. Shit I started to tear up myself.
"Car please. It's okay I don't care. Oh fuck, yes I do care, but.... I dunno, you watched me go through that relationship with Dave a few years back. He's gone you're still here. Then Tracy and Vanessa. But it never quite clicked and who did I always call to come have a drink and share a mope with over a slice of pizza. You. Of course I love you, just..... " She took a long sip and centred herself. Shit here we go.
" Okay, this invitation. See it was a Gay pride rights thing. Promoting tolerance and understanding all that stuff. Worthy I guess but even if I sorta go for girls I don't really see myself as gay. I don't fit that world if you see what I mean. More a wide perception thing than reality I guess, but..." She shrugged again and took another sip.
"So, the thing is.... Ah, see the idea for this do was the usual tables in groups or by company or whatever, pairs. But... the pairs were to be girls and girls and guys and guys. Just a symbolic thing for the most part but no doubt a few rumours would start or be confirmed on the night. Anyway...., oh fuck Car. "
"Lizzie, Lizzie, please just tell me what the hell is going on here. What has you so messed up about a Gay pride dinner thing?"
"See, that's just it. Like I said I was going to toss it. I didn't really want to go there, besides I had no idea who I'd invite. But then I had this odd thought. What about my best friend." She paused there and looked at me, quietly appraising and.... nervous?
"What...me? How does that work. Okay, I know I'm a little girly looking but I am a guy. " My heart started to beat a bit quickly and my mouth went dry.
"Oh Car that's just it. At first I was just playing with a bit of subversion. I knew you would not be all that keen but I had this image of you all glammed up and looking simply wonderful. It blew my mind a little. " She winced a little at the expression she could see float across my face.
"You know, I don't think I've ever seen you angry before. It's just not you. But there you are, storm clouds boiling about and that flicker of lightning with a hint of thunder in the background in the corner of your eyes." She sighed again but didn't look away. I tried to calm down a bit.
"Okay so that's it huh. You think I'm some dress up Barbie doll to take out and have some fun with. You know I never thought you pictured me as some sissy play thing. I don't really care what people get up to within reason but I always thought you respected me at least. " I got up and paced a little before slumping back down again.
"Damn Liz, maybe I was wrong, maybe you can drive me out the door. Ten fucking years. Christ. I wish you'd said something a long time ago."
She was crying again but didn't move and didn't look away. Straightened a bit.
"Please. You know me better than that I hope. I would never abuse you like that. You are my best friend and until a couple of weeks ago I never even thought of you like that, dressed I mean. I... okay you sometimes dress a little... wavy, what's that old Rock band...yeah, Marc Bolan minus the makeup. Whatever they're called. But that's just you a muso image thing mostly. Plus I think you sorta like messing with people a little and you do look pretty enough. Shit" She paused again and took another sip, looking to see my reaction. I was still upset, but listening, she nodded slightly.
"See the thing is that idea, that image would not go away. It sat in my head and every time I turned around or looked at someone even remotely like you in appearance I saw you, looking beautiful and feminine and it really started to mess with my Head. I almost blew a contract the other week because I could not concentrate. Phil finally told me to take a couple of weeks and relax. That sat me back a little. " she paused again, dead still and looking at me intently, trying to judge, to see what, the girl within or something, fuck.
She smiled a wide slightly fixed smile and laughed.
"Fucked up or what?" snorted and took a sip.
"Shit Liz." I smiled a bit crookedly and laughed just a little.
"Yep, I am officially bloody mad. I have had you in my head for three weeks now and I cannot for the life of me whatever I try get you out. Not sure I want to either... But.... umm, the thing is that I know you are not really a girly girl type at all. You may not be a caveman or anything close to it, but a.... I dunno, a nice cute, pretty girl that I am suddenly deeply and hopelessly in love with. Like I said, fucked up yeah."
She was crying again and shaking her head slowly side to side, I had no idea what to do or say. My stomach was churning like a cement mixer on overdrive and my heart was thumping as though with a caffeine overdose. Holy shit, she loved me...as a cute girl. Oh.... holeee fuck. If I prayed what the hell would I pray for? Surprised, stunned, bemused, scared, confused...... curious?
I smiled softly and tried to stay calm, now who's fucking mad? Then love is insanity sorta by definition right. Oh shit, if you're going to say it.....
"Ummm, Liz, you love me... but as a pretty girl? Really. I know your idea of pretty, I can't play guitar with those fucking nails." I tried to look calm but I thought just maybe I'd drop dead in another minute or so.
Her head snapped up and she looked at me her eyes wide and a smile creeping up her face till it threatened to break something. Her eyes sparkled with mirth... and.. love? Oh hell. Yes.
" Oh Cara, are you in for a ride."
Any thoughts, comments, questions or polite criticisms welcome.
Idiosyncratic use of English and rough wordage still present, but hey, let's see how thing's go.
Idiosyncratic use of English and rough wordage still present, but hey let's see how thing's go.
This is a work of adult fiction. No resemblance to reality should be inferred or expected.
Copyright ~ kls 2011.
Taking the Chance
By Kristina.L.S.
Her grin lit up the space between us, so even if I was a little queasy about what I had sort of just agreed to, that made me happy in a bunch of ways I found hard to define. I knew I loved her, had for years. But honestly never expected anything to come from that as I simply didn't fit her unspoken and pretty broad, as I'd seen it, idea of what a lover might be.
She loved me, I knew that, but in a best mate type way and that was it as far as I knew. No possibility of parole. Still here we sat with me contemplating what it might mean to be a girlfriend to my best friend who happened to be a girl. Well a woman and one hell of a woman at that.
The fact that I wasn't in any real sense seemed a bit of an obstacle. She'd had a few weeks to wrestle with the idea and it obviously caused her a bit of drama and pain. Was that a sort of inverse ego boost? Umm.
Still the whole girl guy thing was an odd one. I got it on one level and played the game to some degree even if I tweaked the nose on the preconception doll now and then.
I mean, I am a guy, but if I think about it I'm not that hung up on it as an identity. I sure as hell don't see women as something less and therefore to be 'relegated' to girlfriend is hardly some contemptuous punishment. A big step down? Hah, not in this kiddies world. Just...different in ways I probably can't imagine just now.
Still I have to admit the whole idea scares the living shit outa me. Even if I don't quite know why. Girls are not an unknown, but I guess girldom is to some degree.
My unfocused introspective gaze drew back so I was again seeing the room and more particularly Liz sitting opposite me. She hadn't moved but the grin had subsided to a slight smile and a quiet 'talk when you're ready' look.
I blew out long and slow, didn't help but added to the dramatic effect I thought.
" Hey Lizzie girl." I paused and her mouth twitched just a pinch, but she was waiting me out. Bugger.
"Bitch." and I poked out my tongue which got a grin but no other response. The eyes just measured and waited quietly. So I had nothing left. I sighed long and deep again and figured I'd have to explain something or at least make an attempt at it. Ummm.
"Okay. Ummm, how do I explain myself here. We've been friends for a long time, years and as we've now admitted I've been in love with you for several of those and you knew even if I thought you didn't. I always figured you would not go for me in any serious relationship sexual come lover sense, which was cool if a little sad somewhere underneath it all."
She tilted her head a little and the smile turned a little rueful, but she kept silent.
"So to suddenly have you declare you are in love with me, but not quite the me sitting here is a little.... daunting maybe?" I looked around the room seeking inspiration but... nope.
"Me as a girl huh. Not something I'd ever given a lot of thought to, in fact I've sort of avoided the chances where I was pushed that way. Yeah, it happens when you look like I do. Surprised? Hah, didn't think so. I guess it always felt sort of... I dunno, not an insult exactly but a...umm, depersonalisation maybe. Does that make any sense at all? It wasn't me really it was just a... I was just a dolly to play with. So yeah, not my thing." I looked her in the eye and she smiled gently but stayed silent. I scowled and she laughed very softly.
"I restate my former use of the B word. " She laughed again, but sat still, bitch.
"Yet, the idea does not.... what? Disturb me? Shame me? Un-man me in some way? Okay, I guess it does that but that is not a huge thing somehow. Honestly the fact that I'm a guy is really just an accident of birth and I never give it all that much thought. It just is, a simple biological fact. But I am not a typical 'man' whatever that might be. I live as I like within the society I am part of. I dress in what many consider a somewhat 'gay' manner, or at least a bit hippy. Being a musician is sort of an excuse or cover, but it is still more what I am as a man or even a woman. A musician, who is either neither."
Her eyebrows raised just a bit with that and her smile twitched again, bitch.
"Fuck Lizzie, you really play hardball don't you. You've had a few weeks to sort this out and you drop it on me and I'm supposed to handle it and work out why in hell I tentatively agreed to I don't know the hell what. Wasn't there mention of food in that phone call the other day, I need to put something other than wine in there before my guts eat through and ruin your carpet. The way my stomach is churning Alien crabs could burst out any second." I got her with that one, she laughed out loud.
"Oh Cara, I do love you. But you're right I have had a bit of time to get my head back on, so sure, let's eat and sit and do small talk for a while so you can get your balance a bit. Come on then, kitchen, Linguine Marinara with a hint of chilli." She stood and reached out to take my hand, which was a little odd, but nice all the same. This girlfriend thing will take some adjusting.
She led the way and I put my glass down as she pressed me onto a stool with a brush of her hand across the back of my neck. She bustled about, dishing and prattling about work and just stuff and then sat and we started to just talk as ever about all sorts and nothing and anything.
There were more than the usual silences though and for a different reason than mutual ease. My thoughts kept wandering and she would wait quietly till I came back. Smiling when I did.
She topped up my glass and I realised she was sitting on hers and raised an eyebrow.
"Well I had a good head start and you're still a couple behind. I'm not pissed and neither are you, but a little easier after the first couple and this to come. Come on, back to the lounge room, I'll put some quiet music on and we can sit or talk , we have all night. At least." She smiled again, gently and turned and then headed to the stereo cabinet. A few seconds later some gentle Ottmar Liebert gypsy flamenco stuff drifted about the room.
We mutually returned to our previous seats and set about sitting and squidging and generally marking a bit of time with me taking a bit longer than strictly necessary. Stalling? Nah. Though when I glanced across she was sitting just gazing my way with a slight laugh evident on her face. Bitch, did I say that before? Once or twice. Okay.
" Okay Cara, I'll give you a break. I'll talk for a bit." The laugh left her face and turned into an introspective very slight frown.
"If I'm one hundred percent honest this has been niggling away at me for a very long time. But I always brushed it aside before actually looking at it. Now don't look like that, no I don't go wondering what such as such guy would look like all dolled up and on my arm. Give me a break." She huffed a bit, which was mainly theatrics, but fair enough.
"I always loved the way you dressed and looked and your whole manner. That's sorta what had me standing there years ago waiting while you finished that set. You were never a 'typical' guy and I liked that. I liked you and never really analysed it or anything. You were you, a unique person and one that I felt comfortable with beyond almost anyone else." She paused and waved her glass a bit seeking a thought or something.
"You never really struck me beyond the simple presumption that you were a boy as particularly masculine... or feminine for that matter. You just were who you were and I loved that gentleness and pinch of smartaleccy cynicism. I loved the person you were. But not as a lover because in some way you were never a man and you weren't a woman. So a perfect friend but... I don't know, sort of asexual at least to me. Umm, I still after a few weeks of mulling this about find it hard to put into words. " A pause while she looked down and contemplated. My turn to wait, if mildly anxiously.
"The only way I can rationalise this"..she waved her glass about again, "sudden epiphany or whatever the hell it is. Well, when I had that image of you pop into my head. You remember that do we went to a year or so back, the PR party at Luna Park?" She paused until I thought and then nodded.
"Okay, that dress that Vanessa wore. The little silk slip spag strap hanky hem just below the knee burgundy thing, the heels and smoky stockings, her dark hair flowing? You commented how lovely she looked and she certainly did." She paused again and swallowed. I nodded again but for some reason blushing slightly which made her smile.
"Well, that was the image that popped into my head only it wasn't V. It was you... and to me suddenly with a loss of breath and umm...well other reactions, that image was exactly right. You and me at that party, or any other party any time anywhere, it wasn't strange or anything, it was right. Me and Cara. " She paused again but this time there were tears welling. But they held.
"Suffice it to say that little moment haunted me from that second on. I dreamt of you, a female you. The clothes might change, the look a little but the person was Cara not Car. Beautiful and soft and loving and I would wake troubled and wondering if I was, betraying, destroying something sacred. I mean you might be soft and gentle and loving, even a little feminine, but you are not female. At least... I don't know superficially, no that's wrong. Ummm, you have a gentle slightly feminine soul but could you, would you be able or willing to be a feminine... a female Cara rather than a boyish Car. Which mattered, especially if you were disgusted by the idea. Offended, hurt." she didn't move this time so I waited not really sure what to feel.
She muttered quietly, "It mattered a very great deal." Then realised she'd spoken that aloud.
"See, I really did not want to hurt you in any way at all. I do not ever want to hurt you. But.... Car I like, a very great deal he's a lovely gentle wonderful person. But Cara is... everything he is... just more.... more wonderful, more desirable, more completely beautiful. I love her and I know that is a little selfish and a bit superficial maybe, but there it is. Cara, just pulls all the threads of my heart back into some semblance of a whole and I never even knew it was in tatters." she had tears running down her face now and once I consciously noticed that I realised I did too.
" So okay Lizzie girl, just what do you want of me? I mean I get it I think that there is some... what, block, hangup that makes a boy Car not enough to reach out and take his hand and lead to dinner and then seat him with a little touch. But if it's a girl Cara you can and do with an ease that is... maybe just a little... I dunno, it was lovely but a little strange because it has never happened before." I shrugged and watched as a puzzled look crossed her face and then her mind spun and she connected the dots to her earlier actions and a blush slowly spread.
" I mean what is it we're talking about. I move back to Sydney and move in here with you and live as Cara and see if that causes any problems with my work or even yours perhaps? Do you play sugah momma and buy me clothes and jewellery and all the shoes a girl could ever want? " She blushed a bit more but whispered very quietly.
"Yes, if that's what it takes." she looked nervous but defiant maybe with an overlay of hopeful longing. At least that's how I read it. This was after all slightly uncharted territory. I frowned a little and she flinched ever so slightly which made me sad.
"Okay, that sounds like fun.... I think. I would certainly need a bit of help and starting from scratch takes I imagine some dosh that I don't have. Plus I know what sort of tastes you have, we have been shopping together a few times, Christ you can spend. There's problems I can't even guess at I'm sure but working together that can be got through. I could never be a kept women but some help at first... Umm..... Just.. how far.. how far do you want this to go, do I need tits or whatever to fit the role?" That last came out a little darker than I meant and she flinched and went pale.
"Oh fuck, no Cara, ummm... no, I mean oh hell yes.... shit, let me rephrase that. Nothing that we don't work through and agree and want together. I... oh fucking shit, this is hard. I have you in my mind already as Cara, my actions earlier, totally unconscious toward you that I didn't even register show that. But you are still you, Car, the girly guy my friend that I've known forever. I would rather you went back to Melbourne and we never spoke again than hurt you or pressure you into anything. I would love it, yes... if you went all the way into womanhood. As far as is possible, but I would hate myself forever if you did something to please me that you would not otherwise even have thought of. The whole thing is weird and funny and dangerous and treacherous and it will need a lot of crosschecking and talking and feeling our way. And fuck yes I mean WE. My God you can't quite imagine how much I want to have Cara here and feel her in my arms. But if we hug right now as I want to so badly that will give one of us the chance to flinch, to back away to shatter something fragile and delicate before it's even formed." She stopped, breathless and pale, tears rolling down her face.
I sat dead still for a moment, my heart hammering in my chest. Can I bloody do this, can I stand up and step across a line that isn't there and doesn't matter but sure as shit matters a hell of a lot and will swallow me whole. I licked my suddenly dry lips, stood and opened my arms. Liz didn't notice at first then must have caught the movement and looked up her eyes widening and a hint of fear and hope flashing across her face. I smiled softly and whispered to her.
"Come on Lizzie girl, give your girl a hug, lets take a chance huh, I don't break that fuckin' easy."
She stood very slowly and edged into my arms and we hugged wrapping our arms about one another and it was only as it happened I realised I had mine about her neck while she held me tight around the waist. I heard a very slight cough of laughter as she registered that fact as well.
"Hell yeah Cara my love, let's... taking the chance... sounds like a bloody good idea to me."
Then... well, we kissed, gentle and tender, what the hell did you expect would happen. Chance is a fine thing or something and you never know if you don't. So we stood there with that flamenco wafting quietly around and we felt each others breath and wondered and trembled a little and then just leant in and it wasn't quite two anymore.
~~Finis~~
Any thoughts, comments, questions or polite criticisms welcome.
by Kristina L S
Synopsis:
This is my first post here.
This is a tale from the husbands pov as his wife seeks to address his emotional troubles by sugesting an alternative to his current life.
There is one nasty scene toward the end, though not overtly graphic.
I write for myself as a sort of free range psyche delving. But... Writers like to have their stories read and hopefully appreciated, funny that.
This is another idea that has been 'running' around my head for a while. It didn't want to go where I originally intended so the trip is a bit different and perhaps will not go where you expect it to. The story of a relationship with the possibility of pain or joy depending on which turn you take on any given day.
There is often a twist in the road not visible till you hit it.
This is a work of adult fiction. No resemblance to reality should be inferred or expected.
Copyright KLS 2006.
The Black Dog
By Kristina.L.S.
1.
I'm not at all sure when it began. At what point did the colour seep from the world to be replaced by some old film noir version of life. I had been married to Kara for 3 years. At 26 things were rolling along relatively comfortably. We had met at University, had some of the same courses. Birthdays a month apart, she was older. Almost identical physically, bar the obvious male and female bits. I guess I was never the big man type and she, once we got to know each other, let out a sigh of relief. She was glad not to have to fend me off constantly. That I was cool enough to leave her space outside a relationship and not grope for sex every time we got together. Sure we did it regularly and loved every minute. We grew together and experimented together and graduated together. She as a Vet Science major and me with an English major in education.
She had worked in the same suburban practice for three years now and loved most of it. I worked for a local High School. Mostly it was fine but every now and then it got a bit depressing. With the old timers disillusioned and cynical, the newcomers all wide-eyed and keen and others like me in the middle. Aware of the shortcomings in the system and the students often total lack of interest.
Then my world fell apart. I had given a queen bitch of a 15 year old a hard time over a couple of essays. She had waited for me after school, walked up to me with a sweet smile and kissing me on the cheek informed me that I was 'from this moment well and truly fucked. I should not have hassled over the essays. See ya.' The next day I was arrested for molesting a minor. Then another girl came forward to back her up, saying that I had done the same to her. Pushing sexual favours for a pass mark. Rebecca was a pretty good student and did indeed pass. She was also a friend of Cynthia's and easily led.
I was let out on bail. Back at school I soon found out that half my colleagues believed every word. Many of the students did as well. I was accosted by a group of about a dozen parents as I left school that afternoon and punched to the ground by 2 of the men. One was Rebecca's father. I received notice that afternoon that I was suspended on full pay 'pending investigation of serious allegations against my suitability for my current position'.
It was 3 months before Rebecca recanted and confessed the whole scheme. Eventually Cynthia caved as well. All charges were dropped but that didn't help much. It was unlikely that a single school in the state would touch me now. Cleared as I was by full confessions, mud sticks.
Out of work with no reference and little if any chance of getting a similar position any time soon. After several months of absolutely no response to resume sending or phone calls, I realised. I would have to lower my sights a little. Kara was taking the pressure for mortgage payments and most living expenses. In desperation I took a job as an assistant manager at a supermarket. Which basically meant I was little more than a 'check out chick'. If there is a more mind numbing job than scanning and packing groceries for hours on end I have yet to find it. And I sure as hell don't want to.
Due to my recent experiences my people skills were not in top form. I had a good deal of trouble in trusting anyone. So making friends was not exactly my forte at the time. I continued to chase a better job but all I succeeded in doing was pissing off the boss by missing a shift to go for an interview, a waste of time, and nearly lost the job I had. And so I began to drink a little at night. Didn't want to go out anymore and pretty much ignored my wife. It crept up on me.
The drink got a little more regular and the going out was almost a lost cause. Kara tried to get me to socialise a little but with not much joy. If we did in fact go out together I was about as much fun as a bear with a sore head as someone put it succinctly one night.
That got me thinking and I resolved to cut the booze and try to be a man and husband again. It worked for a while. We got close again, made love like old times. We were a couple and it was nice. Then one night after a day of constant grumbling and complaining from the beloved customer, I found myself sitting at the dinner table with tears running down my face and a black cloud wrapping itself around me. It was a minute or two before Kara noticed what was happening. She dropped her cutlery and jumped to my side. Kneeling there she wrapped her arms around me and held on for dear life. She kept asking what was wrong but I didn't really know, so how could I explain it.
After about twenty minutes or so of gentle coaxing to talk and let her help she coaxed me to bed. After getting me undressed she got a bottle of sleeping tablets from the bathroom that she had gotten to help her through a rough patch six months previous. She had only taken them twice so it was almost full. I took two. We curled together and eventually slept. That set the tone for months. She took control and got me up and at 'em each day and curled up with me each night. Sex was a thing of the past and I didn't even notice.
I did try but conversation was minimal and I'm sure it wasn't a very pleasant time for her. To give her credit she treated me gently and with patience. Called me honey and sweetie constantly. It barely registered. Life was dull and grey with no emotion or colour. Existence was a chore.
Then came the piece de resistance. Kara had begun avoiding me. It took about a month before I realised that we hadn't even once sat down to dinner together. She would come in late and eat alone in the kitchen. I was usually in bed. Curled up and minimally responsive. When I finally asked her why she avoided me lately she just looked at me sadly and said it was nothing. Just work. After a fumbled attempt at intimacy one night she started crying when I couldn't and she wouldn't. Like a shot of ice-cold water to the face I knew we were in trouble. Begging her to tell me why I was suddenly so unattractive to her she replied that it wasn't that. She found me attractive as she always had, despite my moodiness of late. She just didn't see me the way I saw myself. What did that mean I asked. She just looked at me sadly and refused to elaborate.
After several days like this and a real effort on my part to be a husband again she looked at with an exasperated expression one night. I was getting ready for bed and she jumped up and whipping my shorts off, pulled a nightgown down over my head and fluffed up my hair. Grabbing her phone she told me to walk across the room on tiptoe as she 'videoed' about twenty seconds. Then holding it to me asked what I saw.
Me walking across the room in her nightie.
'No. What did I see. If I didn't know it was me.'
I looked again. ...No. ... Again. ...No. ...Again. I looked again trying to be objective. A tousle haired figure in a nightie walking tiptoe across the bedroom. Again. A slender.... I looked again. I slumped to the bed. It was a girl. A slender, flat-chested, girl. And she was me.
I started to cry softly. I never realised. I didn't know! That's how she saw me. Every day. All the time. Not a man. Not her husband. But a girl that she happened to love very much.
I thought back. I had not penetrated her in months. When we made love with any real emotional contact it was the way two women might. Gently, softly, with kisses and tongues.
She made love to me, still in her nightgown. Slowly and gently, kissing and teasing, till I came and slumped into sleep in her arms.
It took me a few days to organise. But by Friday I had all the necessary ingredients. I dressed as I had that day. Jeans, docksiders and a pale lemon polo shirt. For her part I had the cream Italian cotton pullover she had worn, knotted around my shoulders. It was a nice mellow day as it had been 3 years ago. The bench we had used was thankfully unoccupied as I had hoped. The headland was pretty much deserted on a weekday afternoon. I laid out the picnic basket. Sliced roast chicken, lobster tails, grapes, pate and crackers. Popped the bottle of bubbly and palming the rest of the bottle of sleeping tablets toasted our marriage, my beautiful wife and what might have been. Washed about ten tablets down with each toast. Remembering the look of joy as I'd passed her the ring. Kneeling there on the grass beside her.
The note I had left was brief.
Sorry to be such a failure as a man a husband and partner in life. Please forgive me. Find someone better and forget the past. Am going back to the start to see the finish. Goodbye my love. Sam.
I lay back and let the sun fall on my face. I was at peace. Gradually the world around me dimmed as I slipped into unconsciousness.
Kara had called Sam at work to arrange to meet for lunch. A rare chance to get together during the day. When she was told that Sam had not turned up a cold feeling of dread washed over her. Rushing home she found the note and screamed in fear, rage and frustration.
Think. 'Back to the start to see the finish'. 'Back to the start'.... What? Where?
She rushed around the house checking. No. Not here. Checked the bathroom. Nothing. Then on impulse checked the cabinet. No sleeping tablets. 'Back to the start...'
Of course! The headland. The start of their marriage. Where he had proposed. Running to the car she dialled emergency, ambulance. Tried to explain as she sped toward the picnic area that would always be the start.
In a cloud of blue smoke and screaming tyres she slid to a stop in the parking area 50 yards from the bench. She could see the picnic just as it had been. And the still figure lying hands behind head on the grass. Swinging the door wide she rushed towards that horrible scene. So peaceful and innocent. Yet shrouded in terror as she slipped to her knees beside him and pulled his head to her lap. Checking. Yes still breathing. But shallow. The siren was almost here. Hurry! Please hurry!
2.
The haze slowly cleared. Pain down his throat. Bright lights and bustle of sound.
"He's back with us. Call his wife."
I could make out the figure as she came in the door. She looked worn out. Our eyes locked as she got closer. With tears welling up she almost screamed, "Don't... you ... ever... do anything... like that again...! You bastard!" Then gently pulled my head to her chest and sobbed.
It was a couple of days before they let me go. Had to make sure I wasn't a danger to myself, or others. At least so far as the perfunctory meetings with the staff psychiatrist could. Kara tiptoed around me for the rest of the week. Constantly checking in to make sure I was there and coherent.
As the weekend came we sat down over breakfast to talk properly. She tried to understand. Why? What had suddenly made everything so bleak that I no longer wanted to live. Sure I was depressed over the job situation. The psychiatrist had spoken to her about the black dog. Depression. How insidious and deadly it could be. I had some anti-depressants, which she watched me take. Morning and night.
I tried to explain. The loss of my job. The blatant look out for number one viciousness of a 15 year old girl. A supposed innocent. The cold suspicion that followed anywhere people knew the story. Or what they thought they knew. The mind numbing repetition of my recent employ. Then finally, the realisation that my wife, the love of my life, saw me more as a girl than a man. Not truly a husband.
It was more than I could cope with and more than she should have to.
She sat looking at me for a minute. There was sorrow and love mingled on her beautiful face. "Sam as long as I've known you, you were not a typical man. Sure you could be masculine in many ways, that's how you grew up. But you were always softer. More thoughtful and considerate than anyone I knew. Male or female. More empathic. You went out of your way to make me happy despite conflicts with your own life at times." She took a deep breath and looked down for a few seconds. Sighing, "Almost from the day we met I unconsciously thought of you as a girlfriend. Understand, I had never harboured lesbian thoughts. But even knowing you were a guy I thought of you as a girl. Even making love was gentle and sweet. Not a wham bam affair. It was making love, not sex. Even after we married, I wanted to confess my feelings but was afraid to hurt you."
I sat looking sadly at her as she marshalled her thoughts.
"These last six months you were so down. I was worried, but I watched you and you seemed to become more emotional.... Um, more feminine." She sobbed suddenly and looked me in the eye. "If I had thought for one minute you were suicidal I would have got help. God I love you ...I don't want you gone."
I reached and covered her hand with mine. She sighed deeply and covered my hand with her left. "Do you trust me Sam?"
She suddenly seemed very serious, "Do I trust you. Yes of course I trust you. I love you. I want to spend my life with you. I ...ah, won't do that again. Sorry."
Swallowing she looked at me as if measuring me for something. "Please listen to what I say, don't just react emotionally. This is from my heart to you, with love.... You no longer have a job. So for a couple of months, maybe longer you will be the house hubby. Would you,...um..., consider being the house wife instead?"
With a sinking feeling, not unlike what I felt that day on the grass as the pills took effect, I played back what she had just asked.
She looked really nervous now, "Sam, please. I am not trying to hurt you or push you away. I love you, but I want you as my girlfriend come lover. Not as a husband per se. Even the hospital psychiatrist, admitting his limited experience in the area, suggested that you might have some 'gender identity issues'. God what a stupid word ...issues. Anyway he thought it would be worth getting a more practiced opinion. That perhaps that was at the root of your depression."
I sat silently waiting for the other shoe to drop with a big thud. I had worn her out. She was leaving me. Or was planning to. I was her girlfriend. Once that was established she could do what she wished.
Kara watched the emotion wash across his face. Then as his head dropped and the tears started. "Please Sam. If I had explained myself better the other week maybe you wouldn't have felt that I regarded you as less.... I don't. I never have. I don't want to leave you. I don't want you to leave me. I married you believing that you were more female than male. But you never showed any desire to explore that.... So I left it lie. Your happiness means more than some idea I may have. But think about it. Explore it a little. If you get no... ah...easing of stress, ... lightening of mood. Then be Sam not Samantha. But please consider it."
After several silent minutes, with both of us looking at the other. Her hopefully and me with fear and distrust.
"You want me to be Samantha. Your girlfriend. Why? To what end?"
"Sam, please listen. I believe that somewhere in that fine mind of yours is a locked room and inside that locked room is Samantha. Guiding and helping you but unable to live because you fear her. Please open that door and have a look. If you truly don't find something for your own betterment shut the door and walk away. We'll deal with it."
"You want this don't you. You want to feminise me. How far do you want to go. Clothes? Jewellery? Makeup? Visits to the salon? Hormones? Surgery?" My voice had gradually risen so that I was almost shouting toward the end.
Very calmly and with a sad expression, " Sam, yes all of the above. Up to and including hormones and surgery if that is what you need and want. It is your choice. But you need to let her out a little, she's part of you. Then we take it from there. Together. We talk it through and decide. Occasional cross-dressing. Full time. The whole transsexual kit and caboodle. Whatever it takes."
Breakfast took a long time that morning.
3.
To say I spent the rest of the day in a strange mood does not quite convey the situation. Kara had started a chain reaction of thoughts and feelings. Small time bombs going off every so often when I thought I had run through all the arguments and questions. Not even close I realised after 4 hours sitting on the back verandah, knees to my chin. It came down to whether I believed and believed in Kara. And could I comfortably try this as she wanted. Did I want to try?
Needless to say I spent the night tossing and turning. Vague dreams of Kara laughing at me as I tried to chop wood and smiling as I zipped up a dress and touched up my lippy. With a slight lack of sleep headache I turned to find Kara looking at me with a puzzled expression.
"What about chopping wood? You've never chopped wood in your life have you?"
Leaning across I kissed her softly and mumbling explained the dream sequence and that I would try for today to be her girl. But if I felt ridiculous or uncomfortable all bets were off. With a huge smile she hugged me tight. "Oh baby I know this is right for you. For us. You'll see."
With a feeling that I had given up something important without a fight and at the same time that a weight had been lifted. I got up to make coffee.
Kara bustled about pulling things from drawers and tossing them on the bed. Then stopping for a moment with a finger to her lips to think, jumped to it again as whatever it was resolved itself to her satisfaction. She had me strip and pushed my hair under a plastic cap. Then spread what I took to be depilatory from my ankles to crotch and up the V of my 'bikini line' leaving a small tuft around my cock and balls. Then up the line through navel to throat. Underarms and arms from bicep to finger tip. Standing still for ten minutes as my skin began to tingle and my mind churned was a long time. She took the shower hose and rinsed me down scrubbing gently with a face cloth as she went. After a few minutes she turned the tap off and checked me over with a smile. "There you go sweetie. Smooth as the proverbial. Now shave really close and then wash and condition your hair. Use mine. See you shortly I have to make a call."
She was back ten minutes later, bubbly and smiling as I was drying my hair. "Hold up sweetie just let me at it before you get it too dry. " She proceeded to wrap about a dozen large rollers in my hair and pinned them in place. "Just to give you a little more body for the moment. Let's rub this moisturiser all over first. Ok. Come on take a seat and we'll have a look at your face while your hair dries."
She grabbed my chin in her hand and moved my face up and down, side to side, making a big show of scrutinising my features. " Oh come off it Kara. You've been planning this; for years probably. I bet you know my face and what it needs in this situation better than you know your own. Cut the pretence and lets get on with it."
She took a deep breath and looking at me with a slightly guilty smile apologised. She then produced a makeup bag with I was sure a whole bunch of girl stuff just for me. Sure enough, all the necessary for a basic day or evening makeup job. Plus the extra's for cleansing and moisturising before and after. Now there's a surprise.
"Please Sam. I have been wanting to do this for a while. But as I told you. I don't want to hurt you. So I was never sure if this bag would see the light of day. So yes, I have kept it topped up with things for the last 2 years in the hope that you would come to it on your own...."
A wave of resentment and suspicion washed over me, "So you just waited till I was suicidal and so weak emotionally that you could manipulate me to do whatever you wanted. That is so... I don't know what that is. But I sure as hell don't feel good about this or you or me for that matter."
Emotion washed across her face. Pain then guilt followed so quickly by anger that I wasn't sure about what I had seen. " You self centred bastard. I have done everything for you these last few months. Just about ceased to exist beyond your needs. Don't you dare accuse me of manipulating you! If you don't want this then so be it. But we will never be the same again. You have crawled so far up your own arsehole that you no longer see the rest of the world beyond your own narrow perspective. Well fuck you, you prick!"
AS I bowed my head to her and apologised I wasn't sure if I imagined the brief half smile or not. Or if I did see it, what it might mean. After several minutes of deep breathing and concentrated anger dissipation she started working on my face. Stopping herself she went back and explained each step. To my surprise I wanted to follow and do this right for her. I paid close attention and asked the occasional question. She answered each one and smiling took me through everything again. She then had me copy her after cleansing everything off. After three attempts I could do a reasonable job.
With a big smile, " There you go sweetheart. Looking good. With just a bit of practice you'll be as good as me. And just as pretty." That made me blush which she noticed. " Hey come on, don't be embarrassed. We're virtually identical. More than one girl back at Uni said how much alike we looked. With just a little effort we could pass for one another. Now you have the proof. We could be twins." She finished dusting my face and leading me by the hand gradually helped me dress. Panties, bra, padded just a bit; ok, a lot. Pull on crew neck sleeveless knit top, knee length full skirt and a pair of low heel strappy sling back shoes. " There you go. You look great. We'll get your hair and nails done during the week and you'll be just perfect... Oh I'm so glad you opened yourself to this. How do you feel? Have a look in the mirror. Well? What do you think? You look just lovely. Don't you think so?"
Her enthusiasm was contagious. I looked myself up and down trying to be critical but not negative. To my own surprise I found myself looking hard to find fault. My hair looked a little teenage, my waist a little thick. But over all I had to agree I looked pretty good. I needed earrings and maybe a bracelet or two. What? Did I just think that? Then it occurred to me that again this had been planned. My waist was thicker than Kara's, my feet a little bigger. Yet it all fit perfectly. Why was she so determined to make me over? Was I just being paranoid? Was this just her desire to get me in touch with myself and in doing so save our relationship and my sanity?
My head swam with the contradictions and double guessing twists of possibility. With a shake I resolved to go with it and see what I felt as we progressed. Maybe Kara knew what I needed better than I did. I did believe in her love so I guess I had to trust. My mental state of the six months or so left me a lot of room for error in my own judgement. Trust; easier said than done I thought. Damn just believe in her, OK! Ok.
As I opened my eyes I realised I had missed the last few minutes. Kara was looking at me with a slightly worried expression. I smiled at her, "Sorry. I was having a little emotional battle here with myself. I guess I look better than I expected. Plus I'm a little paranoid about your motives. But I figure you love me. So I can trust you more than me at the moment. Lead on McDuff. Sorry if I lost it for a minute there."
With a hug she assured me this was for the best. Please just go with things for a while then see how I felt. I nodded and with a huge smile she hugged me tight, "Oh I do love you. This will be so good if you just let yourself go. Be yourself and stop trying to hide this side of your personality. Believe me. I only want the best for you. Just look..., half an hour and you look better than a lot of regular girls ever will. With a bit of work you will be just scrumptious. I can't wait."
4.
And so it went for the next few weeks. Kara gave me her clothes to wear. She basically wore jeans, boots and t-shirts to work so hers were just sitting. 'They might as well get some use' she said, so I obliged and wore her clothes. Unfortunately I needed a waist cincher to make things fit, what a pain. But it did make my figure better. After a month or so it became a little more routine and therefore comfortable.
An interesting experience to be sure. The first time I went out. I had agreed to full time, I almost shit a brick on the front porch. Discomfort and nervousness to the max. Trying to watch every movement, every gesture and at the same time keep the voice at a soft and feminine level. Be aware of my surroundings and avoid confrontations. And try to act natural.
You have got to be fucking kidding! If every single person even vaguely aware of their surroundings didn't pick me within 30 seconds I would be amazed.
Kara was constantly doing her best to boost my confidence by asking about and talking through my day. Particularly where I felt uncomfortable or fearful. Praised my efforts and then gently pushed for more. One night after about 2 months, " You need to immerse yourself a bit more to see if this is what you need or not sweetheart. Please for me. I have found a salon that is happy to have, um, 'girls' like you as customers. I made an appointment for Tuesday afternoon. It's all set up and paid for. Please just go with this and see how you feel." She handed me a card with Samantha-1.30 and Jenny written on it.
" Jenny is the lady that specialises in men transitioning. Now don't read too much into that. She's sympathetic that's all. Expect about 3 hours. Hair, nails, facial and body waxing. Trust me you'll love it. Well, most of it."
She could tell immediately that this made me very uneasy. But knew that as she had already paid for everything and she was pulling the sole income for the household that any argument I had would be at best weak. One more step to where she wants me I thought. Another flash of paranoia and questions about her often late hours went unspoken. She was just doing what she thought she had to. For both of us I told myself. Someone had to man the surgery after hours and it was only 3 nights a week. Even if that was weekends. She could bill the surgery more for weekends and was home by 11. Unless there was some emergency, which only happened twice in the last 2 months. Animals get sick just like people.
Well she was right. For the most part the salon experience was lovely. Apart from some discomfort during the wax session and a slight shock when Jenny pierced my ears and slipped the small gold hoops in place. Running my hands up my now silky smooth legs was a very sensual experience. Carefully shaped and polished nails. Hair neatly and simply styled. Arched eyebrows and a subtle makeup job. A slight perfume from the massage oil.
I looked at the woman in the mirror and liked what I saw. With a thank you and a smile I started out. " See you next week Samantha. We're starting laser with an electrolysis follow up on your beard. It's not too heavy so once a week for a few months should do it."
I tried not to let my shock show but she must have seen something. Asking if I was alright. With a slightly tense smile I responded that I was fine and would see her next week.
I walked down the street in a slight daze and stopped at a café for a strong coffee and to gather my thoughts. It was almost five and the place was busy. It took several minutes before my order was taken. Half an hour later as I left I noticed a small sign in the window, waiter/waitress wanted weekdays 11.30 - 6.30. How very PC I thought. They want a waitress but can't just say so. I had walked a block toward the car when I decided to go back. I waited 10 minutes before the owner, a tough looking woman with a big head of hair and a loud though pleasant manner emerged to see me. After a few perfunctory questions she nodded and grabbed a full tray from the counter before the waitress could. "Here you go, 2 mochas, a cappuccino, pecan pie and 2 blueberry tarts. Table 4 in the corner lets have a look at you."
Taking the tray I took a moment to balance myself. It had been 5 years since I had needed waiting skills. Plotting a course to avoid the hectic part of the room I headed over and enquiring gently delivered drinks and cake to 3 ladies in their forties. The first two ignored me except for a raised finger as I recited the order from the pad. The third looked a little guilty and said 'thank you dear' and resumed the conversation. I tucked the docket under the flower in the centre and headed back to the counter.
"Not bad my girl. What's your name?"
"Samantha Keough."
"Well Sam. You've got a job. When can you start?"
"Um, tomorrow if you wish."
"Good. See you tomorrow at 11, I'll run you through things. Casual clothes. Not too high heels. I supply the apron."
She rattled off pay rates and times. Handed me a form for 'personal details and tax information' and disappeared back inside. As I stood there with a slightly bemused expression on my face one of the waitresses came back to grab a tray.
Laughing lightly she grabbed my hand," Hi I'm Janette, you starting?"
"Samantha. Yes. Tomorrow."
"Thank god, we could use the help. There's only 3 of us and it gets a little hectic at times."
"Yes so I noticed."
"Well from what I saw you can handle it. Don't mind old Lucy. She's a tough old bitch but she looks after her people. And anyone who does a decent job of work is her people. You'll do just fine."
"Thanks. I'll see you tomorrow." I tucked the form in my shoulder bag and with a slight grin headed out. Sitting In the car a few minutes later I tried to run through what had just happened. I had just taken a job as a waitress. Not a waiter a waitress. Samantha was casually employed. Surprisingly I felt quite good about it. I'd save the terror for tomorrow. Something to look forward to. Oh boy. When I got home, wanting to share, there was a message from Kara. She would be late. Don't wait up. Someone had poisoned a pair of border collies and they would be working overtime to try and save them. Oh and did I have a good time at the salon. See you tomorrow sweetheart.
Feeling slightly deflated I mumbled 'yeah tomorrow' and headed for the kitchen.
5.
I was up early and rang the surgery it went to the machine. She must be out back on the camp bed. Oh well. I set about tidying the house then went shopping for food and assorted household stuff. By the time that was all done it was 9.30. I decided to go for a walk. Checked my outfit, it would do, made sure I had the paperwork for big bad Lucy. I drove to a large park almost half way between home and work, grabbed a takeaway cappuccino from a café near the front gate and wandered aimlessly sipping and thinking. Little bush shrouded trails with the odd jogger or dog walker nodding as they passed. It was only when a good looking but very sweaty guy offered to stop running and wipe the frown off my face that I took a break and sat to think.
It seemed fairly clear that Kara was determined to morph Sam into Samantha and had made plans with people like Jenny to do just that. The last few months had been pretty much angst free. Which objectively had to be a vote in favour of Samantha. But just how willing was Sam to fade out gracefully. Electrolysis was a big jump in one direction. Admittedly shaving was a pain, so a beard, which was never planned, would not be missed. Still it was a symbolic surrender on his behalf and set the stage for further advancement of Samantha as a real challenger to this life, such as it is.
I sat and thought. Licked the froth off the lid and thought a bit more. Ok Samantha seems to be more together for now. But down the track if this goes much further, will that stay the same or will she slide into the same state as Sam. Licked inside the rim of the cup then as far as I could reach, wiped, checked and touched up my face. Ok, I guess that little action makes a statement all on its own. Another vote for Samantha. This is starting to feel very natural and in another half an hour I start work as a woman. Just go with flow for the time being and see where it leads. I got up and headed back toward the car, tossing the empty cup in a bin on the way.
First stop after parking was the salon. Jenny when she came out apologised that she didn't work weekends when I asked. But suggested, after I outlined my reason, that Mondays at 8 would be good. She gave me a little tube of lotion to tint the hair shaft down to the follicles as my light colouring was not ideal for laser treatment. This rubbed over the beard area would aid the effectiveness and then after treatment she would give me packs and creams to sooth my face followed by a quick touch up before I headed to work. During this lay-back time any waxing, nail work or hair touch ups could be attended to. Close shaving to maintain smoothness was not a problem and 3 hours total each Monday morning for about 3 months would get things well under control. Then, another month or two of electrolysis to complete. Don't worry I'm very careful. The hormones can make scarring more likely so I take a great deal of care to keep your face looking good. Once that was settled she kissed me on the cheek and wished me good luck for the new job, " Samantha's on her way. Your Kara has told me to make sure you get the best to help you along. You're very lucky. You'll be just lovely when I'm finished. I'll have to drop in for a coffee and give you a hard time." This said with a big grin.
" Thanks Jenny, anytime. See you Monday if not before." Well that's settled I frowned to myself and headed for the café. Jenny seems sure that I'm well on the way. Hormones, just an assumption or had Kara said something. So that is what she would be pushing for next. Lost in thought I wandered to the café half an hour early. Janette waved as I came in but before we could speak Lucy grabbed me and lead me to the office.
"Well I must say I'm impressed. You're early. Normal start is 11.30, you were due at 11 today and it's only 20 to. You trying to suck up to the boss or something?"
"No Mrs Pascowicz I just had nowhere else... I mean, nothing left to do so decided to get a sandwich before starting. I um, haven't eaten since breakfast which was pretty early. Plus I'm dying for a pee. Had two coffee's a couple of hours ago and well..."
With a deep throaty chuckle she looked me over head to toe, then gazed into my face for several seconds. " Ok, I'll let it go. But from now on no trainers. This is a classy place. Dress shoes. This is work, not the gym. Do you have your forms? " I handed them across as she continued to gaze intently at me.
"Ok, that's fine just grab your sandwich and a drink if you wish, on the house while you work here. Just don't abuse it. The bathroom is out back of the kitchen. See me at 11 and I'll run you through things. Oh, just so you know. I'm 63 and one thing I've learned in 63 years is that no man is worth it. They're all useless. So trust old Lucy here. Whatever he did. Or is still doing. To hell with him, ok. They're all bastards. Use you and spit you out. If you're out stay out. If you're not, then get out. ......Hmmmmnnnnn. See you in 15. Don't be late, Samantha. I hate tardiness."
I ordered a sandwich and a glass of iced water from the guy behind the counter as Lucy nodded to him that I was starting today, then ducked out the back to the bathroom. Had to wait for a minute or two for a lady to finish up. Did what I needed and sat to eat fairly quickly. All the time conscious of keeping a feminine manner. Made it on time without making a spectacle of myself. Checked my face and tapped on the office door at 10.58.
"Good, you're on time. Lets meet everyone, starting out front and then we'll work back to the kitchen so you get the layout and sequence from order to kitchen and back." There were only two tables occupied at the moment so at a gesture the three waitresses gathered round. " Right girls. This is Samantha. She's starting today. Janette I think you met. Kim and Tracy. Just keep an eye on her for the next day or two ladies." They all said hi and nodded. Janette was close to my age, perhaps a year or two older. Kim was Chinese and could have been 25 or 45, I guessed early 30's. Tracy was a rather worn out looking 40 something.
"Ok. Next, the servery. This is our barista, Tony. Gods gift to everyone, especially women. Though a good number of women seem not too overcome by it from what I can tell."
The man in question laughed out loud and reached over taking my hand and kissed my fingertips, "Bellisima Samantha", which caused me to go cold and blush head to toe at the same time. Objectively speaking he was good looking and had that rakish Italian charm thing working overtime. But the last thing I needed was a horny guy trying it on and not finding what he expected. Later.
"Ahem. This is Bill. Any questions regarding the menu or variations check with him. He does the cakes and side dish serving and double checks everything before it goes to you girls." Bill was a lean 6 foot and had the look of country which the half smile and nod pretty much confirmed.
Both wore black jeans and t-shirts with black aprons tied at the waist. Both looked fit and capable. As I was directed toward the kitchen I caught Tony giving Bill a big wink and shook my head slightly. This caused a snort from Bill, which so far was the only sound he'd made. As I turned slightly I got a gentle wink from him and could clearly see the laugh in his eyes. I had to smile. I was sure I would like Bill.
"And last but not least, the kitchen." We pushed through a swing door and were met by a bigger more everything version of Lucy. " This is Anna and her husband Bob they run things in here. Do all the food prepping, buying and menu selecting. Daily specials according to what they pick up at the markets each morning." Bob was a big ruddy faced man that looked like he should be a baker. Both nodded and said hello. "Ok Samantha lets get you set up and studying the menu. You'll be run ragged in no time. But give it a few days and you will be just fine."
Lucy lead me back to the office and gave me a black apron. Left pocket lined to carry a damp wipe down cloth and the right for pens and order pad. She showed me were to stow my bag and then it was out into the customer service arena. Seven hours later I was very glad I had spent the first day in trainers and yet still felt an unaccountable sense of fulfilment.
6.
As I drove home I tried to reconcile my emotions as Samantha seemed to be asserting herself beyond my initial reluctant accommodation. Just maybe Kara had a point and if so, why the hell had I never felt the need to explore. She seemed to be a more together, nicer and therefore more approachable person than Sam had been. Hmm, past tense, another tick on the Samantha side. Or was that just a reaction to Sam's recent turmoil. Shit, this was starting to get into deep waters. Did I still know how to swim or did I want to float with the tide? Either way would I end up drowning? I drove home on auto pilot.
Kara met me at the front door. "Sam sweetie, I was starting to worry. Is everything ok? You look a little tired."
"Hey Kara, sorry I should have left a note. I've brought dinner, lasagna and salad. Come on lets eat and I'll tell you about my day. Then you can tell me what's new with you. After all we've hardly seen each other for days." I hooked her arm and lead the way inside.
"Grab us a glass of red hon. I'll get the plates and cutlery." We bustled about in near silence as Kara kept looking at me as if to read my mood. Dished and served and as we ate, started to talk.
"So are you going to tell me what's going on? I was worried, where were you?"
I looked at her quietly and tried to measure my response. To be truthful I was a little irked. "What ever is the matter Kara? Your little wifey not here with dinner on the table. Is that not part of the grand design? Is she showing a touch of independence? How's the food?"
She obviously suppressed a tart response and with a deep breath, "No. I was actually worried about you. You are not 'strong' at the moment and I didn't know where you were or what might have happened. And the food is fine."
"Well Kara or is that mother. I am an adult and appearances to the contrary your husband. Even if you seem determined to change that. It is not yet 8 o'clock, even teenage girls get more freedom than that. I got the food from work where I started today. I'm sure you'll be ever so thrilled to know I'm working as a waitress in a rather busy café 5 afternoons a week. So perhaps you'll need to talk some other sap into being your maid. I'm planning on running away with the chef, he's ever so dishy." I pushed my plate away, picked up my glass and walked into the lounge room and sat in the dark sipping wine and for some reason crying.
Who said I couldn't be a petulant twit if the mood struck me. I could hear her bustling about and cleaning up. About ten minutes later she came in carrying her own glass, turned on a corner lamp that was pretty dim and sat on the lounge opposite me. She was watching me silently and I'm sure taking in my appearance and posture as I sat in the chair. Legs tucked under me, my glass held in both hands and probably obvious tear tracks down my face.
A few minutes later she broke the silence, " You got a job, that's wonderful sweetheart. Do you like it better than your last? You need to be amongst people and start to reconnect with the world. I'm glad for you. I really don't need or want a maid you know. Just my dearest friend and lover, happy and healthy. If that means Samantha takes Sam's place then so be it. I just want you happy and here with me, not lost in some self-induced fog. And not running off with the chef, dishy or not, you're mine. Frankly I think you seem more integrated now than you did a few months back. I guess this is hard for you. To change the whole outlook of 20 plus years cannot be easy. But from where I sit every movement, gesture and emotional response says woman, not man."
"Ah yes. Woman. Just how are you planning on getting me on hormones? Your friend Jenny is convinced I'm already taking them. She will be ever so careful not to scar my face with the electrolysis. It seems hormones make that more likely. So, do I have an appointment with a psychiatrist or endocrinologist ready and waiting? Oh, the time with Jenny has been rearranged to fit with my job. So perhaps your next 'friend' will have to reschedule as well. Then in a few months when I'm sterile and impotent you can have a good laugh at how pathetically simple it all was."
"Sam do you honestly think I would ever laugh at you. To watch you over the last year or so has been very hard, especially as I said I have always seen the feminine in you. To think that by letting that belief slide I contributed to your desperation and nearly your death makes me so guilty I want to cry. But I know you are stronger than that. You will get through this." She took a deep breath and looked down for a minute. Then back up and straight into my eyes. "Sam, I have spoken to a psychiatrist who specialises in this. She's not far from Jenny's salon. When you wish, an appointment can be made. But nothing can happen unless you are willing and she believes it is right for you. I cannot and would never force anything like this on you. I love you."
So how do you respond to that in an aggressive manner without sounding like a complete dickhead. I sat silently feeling very lost and alone with my thoughts whirling from paranoid conspiracies and gay bashing to feminine pleasures and privileges. I was unaware of Kara moving until I felt her press against me as she sat and took my hand.
"Sweetheart I know you're scared and a little lost. Worried about where this will take us and whether it will change what we have. It some ways it may have to. But the basic structure of who we are together or apart will remain. From my side this doesn't change anything much apart from a few legal technicalities. You will always be you. The person I love most in the world. Please just follow your heart and trust in me. I wont desert you."
I sighed deeply and through tears running freely down my face responded quietly, "Just how far through this have you planned Kara? Next week my beard gets removed. Then I start hormones. A few legal technicalities would be, I assume, a change of name and identity and all the finickity crap that would entail. Then what, the penultimate step a divorce and ultimately surgery on various parts of my anatomy to realign the psyche with the body. Do you have a boyfriend yet or is that yet to come to fruition? I just give up my life of 27 years and merrily wander off to become some idealised fantasy of womanhood leaving you free to pursue your birthright in whatever manner you choose. I already don't look like a man. If I follow through any further I wont even be able to pretend to myself that I'm still a husband. I don't for one minute believe you want to spend your life in some lesbian relationship with an ex male lover. So how do I fade away? Or do I just become your girlfriend that shares a house and waves you goodbye as you swish off to meet your new lover. I could never do that, it would kill me, so just how far have you planned this."
"Oh Sam. Please don't torture yourself with what-ifs and maybes. We have to get you whole and then we work through the rest. Nobody knows their future and what pain or happiness lies in wait. We just have to muddle through the best we can. Remember the main part is I love you and I know you love me. What follows we have to wait and see. Please baby; be strong. Lets go to bed."
And that's what we did. Cleansed our faces, stripped and curled up together with Kara spooning me tight from behind. Despite the anxiety squirting through my body I was asleep in minutes.
It was after 9 when I woke the next morning. Kara was long gone and I just lay there for a while with my mind rolling gently and surprising myself with the resolution I had reached. I searched the desk drawer and sure enough found a card for a lady psychiatrist with an address not too far from work. There was a pencilled appointment date on the back for almost a year ago. I closed my eyes and refused to ponder what that might mean and studiously avoided searching any further. If my current life was a fantasy I wanted to hold onto it for just a while longer. I made a phone call and confirmed that this was who I thought it would be and with a timely cancellation arranged an appointment for Tuesday morning. Wherever else this led I needed some help with the way my mind was running. If I was nuts I would like a professional to tell me so, rather than just suspect it for myself. Sanity was probably overrated anyway.
7.
The next 2 days flowed by. I prepared dinner before leaving and did shopping as necessary. By Friday evening I had the general routine and menu at work down pretty well and apart from aching feet from wearing 'real' shoes everything was fine. It looked as though Janette would become Samantha's first friend. Kim and Tracy were married with kids and though nice enough didn't really want to socialise. Janette was however happy to sit for a while after closing and chat over a coffee. She was a year older than me and had recently divorced her childhood sweetheart. He sounded like a decent guy, but to hear her tell it he had no ambition or even idea about who he was or where he was going. She had to make all the decisions. Decide on money matters and which bill got paid first. It just wore her down trying to be the strong one. So they split. A relationship of over 10 years gone in an hour in front of a local magistrate. She hadn't seen him since.
I took her hand and tried to sympathise. But I was picturing myself as the pathetic bastard she had married and had once obviously loved. This got me running down a dark train of thought about my own and Kara's situation. After a minute or so she had to shake me slightly to get a response. "Are you all right? You were really somewhere else for a couple of minutes there."
"Oh, I'm really sorry Jan. Your tale of woe just got me thinking about things and wondering where I was heading and if love would be a part of it. Sorry I don't mean to sound callous or indifferent to your problems. Just having a hard time separating your story from my own at the moment. That sounds so conceited doesn't it. My problems matter and yours don't. Not what I meant. I'm still living it that's all. Ah, sorry I'd better go."
"Hey. It's ok. When you're still in the middle of it it's hard to get perspective. I know it took me months to get past the crying myself to sleep at night stage. You have to decide where you are and where you're headed. Once you do it becomes easier. Trust me. You'll work it out. If you want to talk I'll be here. See you Monday."
"Yeah, see you Monday." She gave me an odd look as I turned to leave. I turned back and she looked embarrassed and a little angry. "Jan, you ok? You look like someone just slapped you in the face."
"No, no. I'm, um, I'm fine. See you Monday. Have a nice weekend Sam." She wouldn't meet my eyes and I knew something had upset her.
I went pale as I turned and left. She knew. Something I had just said or done had outed me. She knew. Dazed and a little frightened I walked to the car. Any mugger could have had my bag, keys and car and I probably wouldn't have noticed. I made it home but couldn't remember how. Kara had left a note, she would be late, again. She had been home and had eaten, the rest was simmering gently on the stove. I turned it off, walked to the bathroom, had a quick shower and went to bed.
It was after 6 when I woke. Stumbled to the kitchen to make coffee. The light was still on. As the water boiled I checked around. Kara wasn't and hadn't been home. Feeling empty and alone I sipped and sat staring into space on the back verandah. About an hour later I rinsed the cup and sat it to drain and went back to bed.
Glanced at the clock, 12.50. I stretched and realised Kara was beside me. As I rolled over I noticed a black dress I didn't recognise draped over the dressing table chair. I sat up and looked closer. Some pantyhose draped on top and a pair of heels lying on their side next to the chair. Feeling suddenly cold I slipped out of bed trying not to wake her. Got dressed quietly and went for a drive. I went to the movies and watched two. I have no idea what they were.
Saturday night she was 'working' again. I watched a late movie and tried to wait up to talk. I jerked awake at 2.30 and went to bed. Sunday was strange. Kara was about as happy and bubbly as I'd ever seen her. Asking me about work and whether I'd made any friends. She seemed as though she wasn't interested in the answers though so I didn't provide any. She hummed and pottered about and finally went to work at 2. The kiss on the cheek as she left had me bawling my eyes out the minute she closed the door. What the hell was wrong with me? Am I really this pathetic?
8.
Monday I left early for the salon. Jenny was waiting and proceeded to zap my face for an hour or so with this star trek phaser thing while I lay back wearing sun glasses. Then with soothing gel she settled my skin while she fixed and redid my nails. Two hours later I headed out and did some shopping and dashed home, prepped dinner and went to work. Only I was wondering if I still had a friend or a job. The job was still there but Janette was doing her best to maintain a distance. It was a very subdued afternoon. I dumped my apron and with a curt goodnight left as soon as the last customer walked out the door. I caught a glimpse of Janette watching me as I headed out the door but didn't want to confront her so kept going. Kara was home so I heated up and served. She made a couple of attempts at conversation but I wasn't having any. At 10 I showered and went to bed in the spare room.
Tuesday I waited till Kara had left then got up and dressed carefully. I was sitting in the waiting room at 7.45 and at 8.05 a rather attractive woman of maybe 40 asked me to come in. She was good, no doubt about it. She had my potted life story and a detailed outline of the last 18 months in just over an hour. Then proceeded to gently probe and explore my emotions for the remainder of the time. Initial appointments were 2 hours. Before I left she took several vials of blood with those vacuum tubes they use now and asked if I could come twice a week for a month or so as we evaluate my situation and decide on what direction to take. Oh and stop any anti depressant medication for the time being. 'Friday morning, same time, Samantha.' I said sure and headed for work.
I didn't quite get the cold shoulder but it wasn't super friendly either. My feet seemed to have adjusted and didn't hurt anymore. The 2 inch heels seemed perfectly natural. Small mercies. As I was leaving Janette called out to wait she would walk with me. I stopped and stared out the window till she came up and taking my arm led me outside.
We walked in silence for about half a block then I angled to a bus stop and sat. She stood for a moment then sat beside me. "Ok Jan. I, um, I guess you know more about me than either of us might like right now. What is it you feel? Betrayed, violated somehow? Do you .... Shit. What gave me away?"
"Betrayed, violated, yes I suppose a little of each. It was a bunch of little
things. Gestures, phrases, your stance. Then as you stood to go that night the way you spoke and stood there, it was a dead ringer for Pete. My ex. Um, then the way you looked at me and went pale. You just turned and left. I knew. And you knew I knew. I was angry. You'd tricked me into believing something that wasn't real. I watched as you walked away hugging yourself. It suddenly occurred to me how hard it must be for you. Thinking that a potential friendship could turn. How much you would dread the viciousness, not necessarily physical, that could come your way. How close I had come to claiming some victory over I'm not sure what. I kept turning it over in my mind all weekend.
Then Monday I wasn't sure what to do or say and then you left so abruptly. I was sure you hated me and wouldn't come back. But you did. That must have taken some guts, not knowing the reception you'd get. You seem like a nice person and you're good to work with. I would like to be your friend if you would let me in. I don't need to know your life story. Just whatever you want to share. I've never met someone like you before, that I know of anyway."
She took a deep breath and took my hand, "Since my marriage broke up and I moved here I've been pretty much alone. I think you have a lot of pain you're trying to deal with. So, um, as I said the other night before we got sidetracked if you want to talk I'm available. I guess you haven't been living this way too long. With a bit more practice no one would ever pick you. You're very attractive. Not pretty exactly but very nice all the same."
She must have felt me tense a little. Suddenly she laughed out loud, "Don't worry Sam. I'm not coming on to you. You're not exactly my type. The guys I fancy would never look as good as you do in that outfit."
That struck a nerve somewhere deep. Without even realising it the tears were flowing and I had to hold my breath to stop a sob escaping. "Oh hey. Come on. What's wrong? Did I say something?" She took me in her arms as the sob escaped and I just bawled for a minute. Then started hiccupping as I tried to pull myself together.
It took another couple. "Ah. Sorry about that Janette. I seem to be rather emotional lately. Didn't mean to dump any on you."
"Don't worry about it. Glad I could help a little even if I did set you off. Those hormones can play havoc with your emotions. Hell you should have seen me at 13. I guess this is sort of a second puberty for you, eh Sam. Is that your name?"
I was momentarily stunned, she wouldn't would she; pulled it together. "Yes it is. Samuel Leonard Keough, or perhaps Samantha Leonie. Sam. I'm not exactly sure who I am anymore but I'm working on it." We sat in companionable silence for a minute or so. She still had her arm around my shoulders, which felt nice. "Can I give you a lift home Jan? My cars just round the corner." She nodded and directed me to her place. A nice looking little bungalow. It was slightly out of the way but I felt better that she wasn't walking as she usually did. I waited until she had the door open and we waved to each other as I drove off.
It was after 8.30 when I pulled into the drive and just sat there in the carport for a while. There were lights on so Kara was home. She probably knew I was out here but there was no movement at the door. Didn't want to cause another argument I suppose. I really needed to get my head straight. Hopefully Dr Silverman could sort out the mess and point me down a clearer path.
Kara was her usual self, kissed me on the cheek and led me to the table. She had prepared a nice bowl of nicoise salad, crisp Italian rolls and a dry white wine. We sat and ate with some general 'how was your day' conversation. I couldn't ask the question that was in my mind. I'd know Friday morning anyway, one way or another.
Thursday came and went. Jan and I were friends again, shared a coffee and I dropped her home.
Friday morning. I sat nervously waiting. "Good Morning Samantha. Please come in." Some basic pleasantries aside I launched straight in and asked about the blood tests. Dr Silverman gave me a steady look and asked was there something she should know.
"Ah no. I'm just wondering. I, um, I've been strangely emotional lately and was wondering if something might be out of whack." She nodded but kept looking at me steadily.
"Your hormonal balance is slightly outside normal. That is simply, your female levels are slightly higher and your male levels are a little low. Nothing radically outside 'normal' parameters, but do indicate a trend in concert with your physical appearance and manner. Also you'll be happy to know your cholesterol levels and blood pressure are very good. You obviously keep fit and eat well. There is no evidence of, ah, synthetics, in your system. The mood swings are I believe a contraindication with your anti depressants, hence my request that you stop for the time being. They are in effect making things worse not better. It's an inexact science. Also a general malaise brought on by depression. Which is entirely real, we will need to work on that."
She paused for a moment and considered her next words carefully. "Let me head off something here that may be counterproductive to your sense of self. Your wife came to see me some time ago. She explained her feelings and belief about your innate nature. I am yet to decide on that. But I agree that you need some closure to your personal angst. Yes, I know, pithy psycho-babble, but your problems are real. Your wife did not dope you with hormones. She could have. She's a vet and has access to at least stilboestrol, an oestrogen replacement banned for use on women due to possible generational cervical cancer but still used for animals. Theoretically safe for you as you cannot reproduce in that sense. But she did not and I believe her feelings for you are genuine. She could have played me. But that is not easy to do. I have already stated my belief as to the cause of your, ah, moodiness. As for the rest we need to discuss that and reach some form of consensus. Fear is a powerful emotion. You are afraid you may not be as you believed yourself to be. Let's work on it shall we?"
9.
The next 2 months passed relatively uneventfully. My weekly with Jenny continued apace. She assured me that with only a few more weeks of electrolysis my face would be smooth as silk. I saw Dr Silverman twice a week and she was right my 'mood' did indeed improve and I was greatly relieved to have part of my suspicions of Kara dismissed. I was however somewhat guilty that I could have entertained the idea in the first place.
Work was fine. Jan and I were becoming friends. She and Samantha shared a coffee after work each night and I dropped her home. I had even been inside on a few occasions. She was almost obsessively neat. Too much time to dwell on being alone. Tony was his usual cheerfully obnoxious self with Bill as a laconic, self deprecating counterpoint. Lucy played the benevolent dictator and the kitchen worked like a machine. I also discovered that a decent proportion of the income was generated by sales of condiments, biscuits and cakes through secondary outlets all over the country. The café was mentioned in a few cheap eats guides and had a certain fame. No wonder the strange hours and abnormal business. There was a breakfast shift 6-10 and weekends. They were handled by others I had never met, though Bill knew everyone as did Anna and Bob.
Appointment 10 with Dr Silverman, something of a moment of truth. The path forward was to be debated today. Was I nervous, nahhh. Bullshit!
"Come in Samantha. You're looking good, how do you feel overall? Decisive?" This last said with a big grin that I just had to reciprocate. Shaking my head slightly I followed her in and sat. Just an aside, she doesn't have a couch. Just a lovely, comfy, lived in, arm chair. She sat looking at me with a half smile on her face.
Ok. I guess this one is for me to kick off. "Um, well I think Kara was probably right. ... I have been living like this 7 days a week, 24 hours a day for months and only 1 person has picked me as male. Much as a part of me hates to admit it, I'm comfortable. Especially since I stopped the anti depressants the world is back in colour and I feel part of things rather than standing just outside looking through dirty glass. I am a little afraid that if I tried to be Samuel I would lose myself again. So... I ... ah..."
"I have been observing you closely for the past 9 weeks. Strictly speaking I have never met Samuel, but I expect he's a decent guy, with a few problems. Samantha, however I have come to know quite well and I like her. She has her own problems, but she's getting there. What is it you fear?"
Now that is a hell of question. All sorts of things can cause embarrassment or pain, perhaps both. The sneering superiority of 'normal' people as you're outed in public and then beaten up to the strains of "Lola" by the kinks and a teenage cheer squad stands idly watching as they pop bubble gum. The less likely. Being buried alive or eaten by a shark. All things to fear. But... the idle musings of a strange mind was not what she wanted I'm sure.
"Ah, I suppose what I fear most is that should this go much further I will lose the only relationship, the only intimacy, that ever meant anything. She will ultimately leave me. If not physically, at least emotionally and sexually. She will want a relationship that I can no longer provide. And that will tear me in half. If I am just a girlfriend... Um..."
"Samantha. If you follow this road are you getting closer to yourself? And if so is a more integrated person more or less likely to have a meaningful relationship. Do you honestly fear that possibility? You cannot make a decision regarding your entire future based on what someone else might think. No matter who that person may be. Consider all the variables as best you can and then go forward for yourself. Whatever may or may not happen. You must be whole to make it work. Very few things in life are certain."
I left her office some twenty minutes later after a bunch more light-hearted banter with a shot in the each bum cheek and prescriptions in my purse. I was elated and terrified. I was not the little ray of sunshine at work that day. Jan tried to get Samantha the vague to talk as I drove her home. But I just shook my head and kept quiet. With a hopeful 'see you tomorrow?' she stood looking after me as I drove off.
Kara met me as I came in the door with a gentle hug and a kiss. She knew instantly something was bothering me and tried to get me to talk. Got me a glass of wine and sat me down as she finished dinner. Served and tried to make conversation. My monosyllabic answers probably made for a less than cheerful conversation. "Sweetie please, what's wrong? You seemed to be getting better lately. But... tonight you seem, I don't know. Sad I guess. Please talk to me."
"Oh Kara I've lost you. Betrayal is...Oh... shit, I'm sorry."
She went pale and gripped the edge of the table tightly with both hands her finger nails leaving little ridges in the wood. "What? What do you mean lost me?"
I pushed my barely touched plate away and with tears beginning got up and went to the big lounge chair and curled up. She followed in a moment later and kneeling in front of me stared in to my eyes and again, "Please. Tell me what's wrong honey."
So I laid it out for her. The last 2 months visits to Dr Silverman and finally the betrayal as I got shot full of hormones and had prescriptions for more to back up the weekly scheduled shots. In a few months I wouldn't even be the semblance of a husband. As I talked she had relaxed, sitting back with her legs tucked under and her hands on my knees. I sat with tears running down my face as with a smile and tears in the corners of her eyes she pushed up and kissed me softly on the lips.
"Oh my darling. I told you before if this is what you need, so be it. I'm not going anywhere. I love you, as Sam or Samantha. I told you that. Come here." She gently pulled me down to the floor and curled up behind me with her arms holding tight and a lounge pillow under our heads. I woke 2 hours later and she whispered in my ear, "Come on lover girl. Let's go to bed."
10.
The next few days were surprisingly normal. I had apologised to Jan and the others for my moodiness of the day before and all was well. Kara seemed to be taking more care to be around and help out with things and we started going out together shopping and coffee. Twice to dinner, which was very nice. Almost like old times but with an added spice. We even made love a few times and I was jolted to find that after only a week my nipples were swollen and very tender. Kara seemed to like teasing me and kissing them. Have to admit it felt nice as long as she was gentle.
After about 10 days the soreness subsided. Still sensitive but not uncomfortable and a little more swollen, '27 going on 13, joked Kara' and with a rueful smile I had to acknowledge the truth of that. Work was fine and the personal dynamics had settled comfortably with everyone having a measure of the others or in my case thinking they did. Surface perceptions covered most things I suppose. Any deeper relationships would require some possibly dangerous honesty. Jan had come close to causing some major grief, but was now a good friend. We had been out several times on the weekend and even a few occasions just sat around her place and chatted over lunch. Just girlfriend stuff, which while enjoyable was tempered with the certain knowledge that this is the relationship Kara was looking for with me. We hadn't been to my place. I couldn't bring another woman home no matter how innocent. I wasn't even sure why it was a problem it just was.
Over the next 6 months things settled into a routine. Monday mornings with Jenny, finalising the electrolysis and generally keeping me looking good. Tuesdays with Dr Silverman getting my head on straight, which actually seemed to be working. Work was generally pleasant, with the exception of the odd customer that you could cheerfully poke in the eye with a cake fork. The customer is always right, my arse.
Then there was Kara. We were getting along really well. She was constantly boosting me up. Praising my manner and appearance. Not to mention my overall attitude. I was 'happy' again. It wasn't perhaps a true lesbian relationship but to any outside observer it must have looked that way. Seeing 2 women walking along holding hands would generally give a certain impression. She seemed genuinely happy with things and particularly my adaptation to the feminine role.
My figure gradually settled into a more womanly shape, just a bit fuller in the bum and hips. Less overall musculature, softer general appearance. A little trimmer in the waist, but more 26 than 24. And no more beard. Oh yeah, I was now a full A cup and though they weren't large I was very aware of them. With extenders tucked in the bottom of my bra cups I looked a good B. We made love a few times a week and although it was a more feminine take on sex I could still get an erection, a little smaller than it used to be, but there none the less. The potential for children however seemed to be zero. My testicles had almost disappeared and I was now sterile. Probably permanently, even if I stopped everything, which I wasn't going to do.
11.
It was a Saturday morning. Kara woke me with some very persuasive placement of the lips and proceeded to show that erogenous zones could be rearranged on a whim. Hers not mine. That is her whim not mine. My erogenous zones had definitely shifted a little and she was at a distinct advantage regarding attack and conquer. And lorded it accordingly. She seemed to think that reducing her sort of husband to a quivering feminine lump was amusing. Can't say I had any major problems with it either.
"Let's go to dinner tonight lover girl. Then maybe check out a club after. See how girly you really are and whether you can cope with men checking you out and chatting you up." She was looking at me with a cross between a grin and an evil leer. Evil leer was winning.
"Um Kara. I am really not interested in checking out men or having them check me out. Unless you no longer want me I'm happy with what we have. Do you want more than I can give you now is that it?"
"Oh come on hon. Don't start. I just think you need to explore the reality of being a woman in the big wide world of singles. You don't have to go off and play if you don't want to. I might even object."
"But I'm not single am I Kara?"
"No sweetie, your not. Don't worry so much. It's just a bit of fun. Nothing need happen unless you really want it to. I'll be right there and I'm not hunting for anyone. I already have what I want."
For some reason that statement didn't fully reassure me. But of course we did go out. Dinner was nice and the club... Well it wasn't so bad. To my surprise who should be there shakin' his booty. Bill from work. The instant he saw me he grabbed me for a dance.
Well no, he sauntered across and asked Kara if he could possibly borrow her friend for a few minutes. As she sat stunned he bowed to me and took my hand. I was blushing to my toes as he led me to the floor. I'm not sure it's physically possible to blush for 20 minutes straight but I think I managed. As he led me back to the table he asked what we were drinking, deposited me at the table and headed for the bar. Brought back 2 drinks, gave an abbreviated salute thanking me for the dancing and Kara for letting me go. Then sauntered off. Some charmer that Bill. He had me thinking all right. If this was me did I enjoy what just happened? Much against my will I had to admit I did. Of course Kara kept looking at me with a huge grin on her face and wanted chapter and verse. I gave her the short version, who he was and how we knew each other. We left soon after.
All the way home I was thinking it through and trying to reconcile what I felt with what I thought I should. Who was I now? Sure it was innocent but it felt a whole lot better than it ought to. Bill was a pretty rare character, but then that's what it was all about wasn't it. Finding the rare one amongst the dross. Shit.
Kara kept looking across at me as she drove no doubt trying to feel my mood. I was aware of her but only peripherally as I gazed silently out the windscreen. We pulled into the carport and she switched off the engine. It ticked quietly as we sat in silence for a moment. I felt Kara's hand as she pressed it gently on my stockinged thigh. As I turned toward her she leant across and kissed me deeply. "Come on lover girl. You two looked great on the floor. Mind you if that had been the chef you're running away with I might have been a little more interfering. It was a bit of fun. Don't take it so seriously. I'm not giving you up and you're not running off with anyone. Ok. You make an attractive woman, so it's easy to see why Bill would want to dance with you. But nothing else need happen. Girls have to get used to that sort of thing. 27 going on 13 remember little sis, you'll be fine. ...Oops does that make this an incestuous relationship?"
I had to laugh at that, "Sorry hon it was just so contradictory. It felt really nice but awful at the same time. I, um, don't want anyone else but you." a soft yet rueful smile crossed my face, "But I have to say if I fancied a man I'd certainly give Bill a call. He really is a nice guy. He's a rare one I'd say."
"Yes hon, he is and I agree he's a nice guy. But I know one I'd rather be with. Even if she's not quite as masculine. Let's see if there's an old movie on TV. We can have a nightcap and cuddle up."
There was an old black and white on in half an hour. Greta Garbo as a Polish princess. We cleaned our faces, kicked off our heels, poured double cointreau's over ice and snuggled up to each other as we watched.
12.
I was a little pensive that Sunday. It was unusual lately for Kara to be home all weekend and I felt guilty for not being more up. She refrained from teasing me or asking lots of questions I probably couldn't answer. We loafed about, had a late brunch, read the papers listening to a bunch of cd's and chatted about all sorts of inconsequential things. It was just us girls. A pleasant lazy Sunday between girlfriends and I realized with a degree of sadness that wouldn't lift; this would be our future. If we stayed together at all. That scared me a little and got my guts churning. Without saying a word I just got up and went for a walk. Kara just sat and watched as I left. Four hours later I came in the front door and glanced in the mirror. Dirty sweats and runners, no makeup, hair damp from the evening air, I still looked like a skinny under-endowed girl. Kara came up behind and wrapped her arms around me, "You're cold sweetie. I've got soup and toast on. Lets eat. If you want to talk we can. I really have no idea what this is like for you. I have always known who I am so I have nothing to compare to. Just know I love you and I'm here for you always."
"Thanks Kara. I, um, I'm not sure where me or we are heading and to tell the truth I'm a little scared. I am, I guess, pretty much Samantha now and I suspect that will change everything. It looks potentially very lonely from where I stand but I'm not exactly sure why. ... No I know why. I'm afraid you will want more than I can give. Expect me at some stage to accommodate more than I am willing. Samuel is gone and nothing can be the same and all of that makes me sadder than you can imagine." With a short barked laugh I wiped a tear from the corner of each eye, " Thanks for not locking me out, I didn't even take a key."
She kissed me softly on the cheek and took my hand, "I thought about it. But then who else would take you in looking like that. Come on hon, soups up and the toast will get cold."
It seemed to be Kara's turn for the pensives as we slurped thick vegetable soup and dunked hot buttered toast. Hi cal and lo cal, nothing like a balanced meal. Took the chill away. It was a cool evening and we went and cuddled up in bed. Kara started chatting and neatly turned it to an improvised tell me all about it session. She got all my fears and worries over the next 2 hours. I even apologetically explained my fears of her doping me with hormones and how guilty I felt when Dr Silverman proved me wrong. She was a little hurt that I could even think that. She lay beside me thinking for quite a while. Then rolled in close and said she forgave me, flicked off the light and with an arm draped across my belly gradually fell asleep. It took me a while longer.
Monday morning I was a little nervous but when I walked in Bill politely thanked me for the dance. Jan and Tony both pricked up their ears and I just smiled and said, "you're most welcome Bill" Tony looked like someone had stuck a pin in his butt and Jan just grinned at me. The week went by pretty painlessly. Even Dr Silverman seemed happy with things. Kara was back to weird hours so I had a lot of time to contemplate my navel. Didn't solve any major world problems or minor ones for that matter. Jan and I had a few long chats and got to know each other pretty well. She thought she might actually have found a guy she could go out with. Scared and exited she had a date for Friday night. I hoped it worked out.
She didn't mention it again so I guess a bust. I only went to Jenny once a month now my beard was gone, just touch ups as required of whatever. The following week I treated Jan to a session and I think it helped. She looked great when she came in and smiled all day. Cheap at twice the price.
It was 2 weeks later, Kara was working Saturday so I did the wifey thing and cleaned the house, top to bottom and cooked dinner. A nice spicy stir fry with a tart Sauv Blanc. Went over a treat as we were doing the dishes Kara mentioned that one of the girls at work had a complimentary pass for 2 women to a new nightclub. Dinner and dancing tomorrow night, "She can't go and thought I might have a girlfriend to go with. So.. What do you think? Free dinner and a bit more girl life experience for you. We could get all dolled up, tease a few guys then kiss long and deep on the dance floor and dash all their hopes. It's supposed to be a nice place. Mot trashy and no meat market. They just want more women to draw a crowd I think. No pressure but it should be fun."
I thought about it for a minute. It was fairly obvious that Kara wanted to go and I had to admit to wanting a little more exposure. I had to face men some time. A harmless dance or two might even be nice. " Ok Kara if you want to go I'm game. But don't expect too much teasing of men from my side. I'll go with the flow as long as it stays genteel. Any ungentlemanly conduct and I'm out of there sister."
"Right you are sweetie. It'll be fun." She had a big grin on her face and kissed me on the cheek as she wiped the cutlery. She was cheerful and bubbly for the rest of the evening.
We got up late, had a light lunch and tossed and moaned about nothing to wear. We were both laughing as we selected similar dresses. Mine was a navy blue silk and linen slip with matching 3 inch heels and silk finish hose. Kara was all black, soft charcoal linen dress, seamed stockings and 3 inch kid pumps. We linked arms and looking in the mirror whistled at the reflection.
"We'll be tripping over male tongues tonight honey. Just remember, you're mine."
I was a little nervous, but hey, it should be fun.
The cab tooted at 6.30 and away we went. The room was all brass and ferns and about half full. The food, though good, was light on portion and big on price. I was glad we weren't paying full fare. We shared a wine, which wasn't on the docket and cost a bomb. Ah well, you only live once. About 7 I started to hear a gentle pumping and guessed it was the music upstairs. It was well insulated and didn't intrude. About 8.30 we finished up, bought a cointreau over ice each and headed through two sets of doors and up the stairs.
The music was loud but not overbearing we could still talk if we raised our voices a little and leant close. It was a large room with a small stage at one end and a dance floor in front. A bar on each side, booths and alcoves with tables and lounges, tables and chairs spaced throughout and 2 unisex bathrooms in the far corners. Careful lighting and mirrors made everything more open yet intimate at the same time. There were perhaps 80 people spread about. Half a dozen couples and roughly as many single women dancing, the rest scattered around the room. We chose a table roughly two thirds of the way back, sat, sipped and surveyed the scenery. After perhaps 5 minutes 2 guys sidled up and slid onto the spare chairs. "Brian, Terry, can we get you ladies a refill with the promise of a dance?" Before I could say anything Kara took Brian's offered hand and introduced us. He immediately pulled his chair closer and started chatting, ignoring me and his friend Terry. Terry took his cue and slipped his arm around my shoulders and asked what we were drinking. He took a sniff and nodding said "Cointreau on the rocks?" I nodded and he headed to the bar. As he walked away I turned back to speak to the others but they were in their own little world. My wife was kissing a man she had just met. Stunned I blushed and looked away feeling very uncomfortable.
I took the odd glance back at Kara and was upset to find she was ignoring everything but Brian. The question came unbidden, 'had these two just met or was something else going on?' Picking up my bag I stood to leave as I turned Terry was standing there with 4 drinks, 3 cradled in one hand and one in the other. He handed me the single and placing the others on the table pulled out my chair and waved me to sit. Mumbling something about the bathroom I downed it in one and walked to the back of the room. I sat on the closed toilet lid trying to figure things out, nothing made sense. Resolving to leave I stood and headed back to the table. Kara was gone. So was Brian. Terry smiled at me, "I believe you owe me a dance. The other two started without us, we'll have to catch up." He took my bag and dropped it on the table draped his coat over it and taking my hand led me to the floor. Kara and Brian were dancing close. Kara had her eyes closed and was resting her head on his shoulder. Terry nodded to Brian with a smirk and he winked back. Pulling me close he led the way around the floor.
For the first couple I was as tense as a rabbit cornered by greyhounds. But I started to feel I was being silly. Terry was a nice guy. Brian and Kara were enjoying themselves so what was my problem? I felt hot and sweaty, like a mild sunburn the next day, everything was sensitive. We danced for what seemed like hours. Then with repeated drinks Brian and Terry clinked glasses and laughed. Kara had a puzzled expression as she looked at me, "What's up Kara, jealous?" I didn't hear her response as Terry pulled me back onto the floor. We spun around forever and then he pushed me up against the wall, pressed his thigh between my legs and kissed me hard. My whole body was on fire, tunnel vision narrowed my senses to my body and his control of it. Panting he led me to the closest bathroom and pushed into as cubicle, dropped me on the toilet seat and opened his fly.
My vision was spinning and I couldn't remember where I was. Something in my face demanded attention. It was soft and pliable as I tentatively reached to understand. It pressed against my lips as I grunted a 'What?' then slipped into my mouth and slid back and forth. Much later it bulged and tightened and I was coughing on something thick and gluggy. Anchovy ground in mayonnaise, retching I slid to the floor and tried to understand. Someone wiped my face and helped me up and pushed a tablet in my mouth. Lights exploded as everything brightened and sharpened. Laughing madly I examined my face and tut tutting my dishevelled state did repairs that looked like a 12 year old. Grabbed my saviours hand and pulled the arm back to the dance floor. Giggling and tripping over my feet I danced for ages holding onto the arm. Was it Terry? Was that the arms name? Don't know don't care. Spun and slipped. A different arm helped me up. Slimmer with red tips. "Kara? What happened, I can't think?"
"Come on hon you need coffee. You're a little drunk. Let's sit for a bit."
After 3 cups of black coffee I started to return to the table from somewhere near the ceiling and the music was pumping in my chest. Brian and Terry were chatting together and smiling smugly. Kara was watching with a bemused expression as she held me steady in my chair. Vague images spun in and out of my head as I tried to think. Something wasn't right. I looked from Kara to Brian to Terry. Kara looked a little embarrassed, Brian looked smug and Terry still had that shit eating grin that roiled my stomach. With a gasp I jumped and ran to the bathroom. A not exactly straight line but I made it and threw up as my knees smacked the tiled floor of the cubicle. I stumbled to the sink a few minutes later and rinsed my mouth. I stood holding the edge of the basin and staring at the face in the mirror. Grabbing some paper towel I started to scrub my face as I splashed it with water.
Someone touched my arm and I squealed and jumped 6 feet in the air. Trembling all over I turned to Kara who was talking to me but I couldn't hear a thing. Shivering like a malaria patient I started to make out individual words, "... you... hon... guys...gone... get... home." I don't remember leaving or the taxi ride home. Kara helped me undress and I dropped onto the spare bed. She covered me, turned the light out and I could make out vague noises as she undressed and showered then checked in before going to our room. I lay there feeling the blood flow around my veins and trying to pull the evening together. I never got drunk like this. What the hell happened. I tried to read the clock and eventually made out 2.17.
Slumped back with a major urge to pee. Too tired. Shit, the blurry clock read 2.24.
13.
I walked quietly toward the bathroom feeling groggy and a little jazzed. I thought Kara would be asleep. But as I passed her room, "... yeah she's sleeping it off. After a night like that I can't blame her. Oh Brian this is going to be perfect. ...She's almost there. It took more than a bit of positive reinforcement. But she eventually took to it like a duck to water. ...Yeah ... ...she'll really be me my best girlfriend come lover and in no position to get moralistic over you. This is going to be perfect. ... ... yes I do love her, more than anything ... ... I won't give you up, you know that. ...Soon, ... ... Yes. ...Everything ... "
I stood there for ... a while, hearing and seeing nothing, with a cold sweat breaking out all over my body. Every fear and worry of the last eighteen months swirled about me like a hurricane. So it was all a twisted set up. I headed back to my room but took a detour to the laundry and threw up in the sink, several times. Groggily I headed back. Sat on the bed, rolled to my side, crushed a pillow in a desperate embrace and cried quietly for hours, trying to organise my thoughts and feelings. The betrayal I felt was like a lump in my stomach the size of a watermelon. And just as tasteless. Eventually I made up my mind. Dressed quietly and straightened the room. I knew I had to get things together in a hurry. I had today. I doubted I could hold together longer than that. Kara was asleep this time as I left the house.
I somehow managed to do what I needed to. The day passed in a fog. I'm sure more than one person wondered what I was on. Trust me, you don't want any.
Still, I managed. Occasionally fighting waves of revulsion over what I had done. Anger at what I had done. Anger at what Kara was doing. Then the fog rolled in again. I half expected Jack the Ripper to wander up and laugh in my face. I must have laughed out loud because a few people were looking at me with worried expressions or fear on their faces. Great, now everyone thinks I'm nuts. Maybe.
I made it home and managed a light meal. My hands were shaking and a knot of anguish had settled in my stomach. After 3 stiff drinks I settled a little and was in bed by 10. I vaguely heard Kara come in about 1 in the morning. If she noticed I was in the spare room again she made no noise about it. I dozed off as I heard the shower.
Tears threatened but I didn't want to cry just now. I checked everything and headed downstairs for a coffee. Sat, sipping slowly, with my thoughts running rampant.
It was about ten minutes before Kara came down. I was on my second cup. She started to say good morning then stopped with a puzzled expression as she took in my attire. Jeans, short-sleeved blouse, black ankle boots with a chunky 2 inch heel and a cotton blazer draped over the chair I was sitting on. Then she saw the tote bag near the door and looked a little pale suddenly.
"Kara I love you, I always will. So it hurts a lot to know that you have lied to me. Cynically manipulated that love to suit yourself. You have used my feelings to cover your own guilt at having an affair. Perhaps your Brian is worth it to you. And perhaps you saw what you were doing as the best all round for everyone. Given my emotional state over the last year or so I can't say that I am in any position to totally disagree."
"But to use that emotional void and twist my love and need for you as you have. ...That does not speak of love to me. You probably do love me as you say. But in some fashion that I can't recognise." The tears were flowing by this stage and Kara had a stricken look on her face.
"I believed in you. I trusted you. You kept me from slipping into the void. You were my life-line, my hold on sanity and connection to humanity. If I hadn't heard you talking on the phone early yesterday morning I wouldn't believe you could be so calculating."
I was sobbing now and Kara had tears running down her face and was looking at me with a mixture of pity and what I took to be fear.
"You took my emotional wreckage and used my desperation at losing you as well to turn me into what you wanted. Just a girlfriend to toss sexual anecdotes with. To slurp hot chocolate with while discussing who has done what with whom. ... Perhaps I'm just a selfish bitch that doesn't want to share!"
Took a deep breath and tried to pull myself together. Wiping my eyes with the inside of my wrist, " ... Part of me is happy with the way things have been going. Had you been honest with me I probably would have understood. Especially with my mood in recent times. But you lied to me! You twisted my frailty and devotion to you! You vindictive cold faced bitch!" The pain and raw anger gushed out like a shockwave after an explosion. Kara recoiled a little at the probably vicious look on my face.
I slumped into the chair sobbing in pain and desperation. Kara started to run the last few steps to comfort me," Sam please...I.."
Jumping back I signalled her to stop, "No! Stay there. If I let you hold me I'll lose it again. I can't give in this time. ..I can't..."
"Sam.."
"No!" I pointed to the envelopes on the table. " That is a notarised transfer of title to this house from joint names to you and relinquishment of access to our joint account. Any payout I have coming from the Education Department including superannuation goes to that account. Everything here is now yours. As is the responsibility for the mortgage. Maybe Brian will help. This is not my home anymore ...... There is also a signed petition for divorce, I have relinquished all rights to you. All you have to do is sign it and mail it in. No more marriage. You're free. ...I have packed a few things I bought over the last few months. Just a few basics. Everything else is yours to do with as you will. I don't want it. I, um, I sold my car today; got screwed on the price, but that's what you get when you're in a hurry. Anyway, I have just over 6 grand to run with. I was trying to think of some way to get the money together to complete this journey of ours. Now well..."
She tried to come to me but with a cry I backed around the table and yelled, " Keep away Kara, it's too late. I don't know where I'm going and don't much care. I'll wait tables for the next five years if I have to, to pay for the surgery. Then I'll be complete, at least physically. Shit, does that make sense. Cut things off to make it complete. At the moment I don't care. I may end up in a ditch someplace or slashing my wrists in a cheap motel. How's that for some cheerful imagery? If all else fails maybe I can make it as a she-he hooker somewhere. After all I've already done it once, how much better to be paid."
The sneer on my face would have made a pimp wince in pain. " So lover of mine got someone lined up to fuck me next, Hmm...? Oh, I suppose that was meant to happen the other night. Sorry. One step at a time."
The sobs were making it difficult to speak. I was spending half my time sniffling and tying to draw breath and choking back the acid that burned up my throat. I was damn sure I was rambling. Shit. I was leaning on the table so I wouldn't fall over. With an effort I pulled it together enough to continue. Kara was staring at me with a grief stricken, pale, tear stained face. As though someone had just died. Maybe they had. 'God she was beautiful', I stood up straight with an effort.
"As long as I keep away from drugs or booze I should survive. It won't be living, exactly. But then I haven't been living for a while now. Except... these last few months I was beginning to. Now..."
I reached out and dropped the front door key on top of the envelope. Then begging her to keep away grabbed my jacket and walked over and picked up my bag. I could 'almost' see the door through the tears as I twisted the knob, opened, then pulled it closed behind me. With a gentle thud it locked and I vaguely heard an anguished wail from inside as I walked down the path and headed up the street.
As I walked I was conscious of a large shaggy black dog loping along behind my left shoulder with it's tongue hanging out, a vague leer on its face and a malevolent glint in it's eyes.
Notes:
I have a sequel about half done but I am not sure it will see the light of day. It is perhaps better to leave questions unanswered. If I do I will post as soon as I can pull my thoughts together to finish it. For the moment. The End
Any thoughts or comments I can be contacted - [email protected] Anything short of abuse welcome.
So what happened after that impassioned cry of...'Sam... please...'
I was asked by a friend to 'complete' the story. I thought I had, sort of.
For those that have not read the first two, this will mean nothing.
For those that read the first and thought the 'Reprise' superfluous.
This will mean nothing.
For those few who thought... what happened next?
Well, this is for you.
It was not intended to be seen by more than a few, but...
So I'm an over emotional fool. What else is new.
This is a work of adult fiction. No resemblance to reality should be inferred or expected.
Copyright KLS 2006.
The Black Dog — The next day
By Kristina.L.S.
1.
Sam's first instinct was to walk away, fast, in the opposite direction. But that cry... Impassioned and invoking past love, pain and yes, friendship had stayed her. One long look at Kara, the woman she had always thought was 'the one' had crushed that impulse and here she was. Standing in a tight embrace on a public footpath bawling her eyes out as she hugged Kara tight as some sort of, what... penance? The puffy bruised cheek, the obvious emotional pain, maybe even need. Just how did that fit with what had gone on over the last few months. Why and how did Kara still hold her heart? Yet... whatever had happened, she could not just walk away. Weakness? Perhaps. But... there was history, pain, mixed with love. If she was honest with herself she could almost accept Kara's actions. Could almost understand the need. And yet... the pain of what she had done. Directly or indirectly, did it matter? Yes, just maybe it did.
After perhaps five minutes they pulled apart and holding each other at arms length took stock of the other. Kara looked so downtrodden that Sam almost wondered if she'd been sleeping rough after being mugged. To Kara, Sam was like a refreshing gust of wind on a stinking hot day. A hint of relief after the disaster that had preceded it. She looked tired and sad, but it was Sam and she hadn't walked, yet.
It was Kara that spoke first.
"Sam... I, um, would not blame you if you said goodbye and walked away for good. I would understand if you did. But I had to take a chance that there was... something left. Some... remnant of love to hold on to. That just maybe I could beg you to forgive me... that we could at least talk."
She clenched her hands on Sam's arms and closed her eyes tight as the tears began again. She was deathly afraid that Sam would just say, 'sorry, no' and walk away. Almost expected it, in a perverse way would almost welcome it as deserved. But please God let it not be.
Sam stood there with the two conflicting images of Kara superimposing one on the other. First the thoughtful caring and gentle Kara, passing love with a touch, a word or a look and then...
A sneering Kara, belittling the pathetic excuse for a husband that she now had as she turned her back, embraced and passionately kissed Brian, as his laughing eyes stared over her shoulder at 'Samantha'.
Sam looked at the face inches from her own. The drawn and saddened features emphasised by the developing bruise high on her left cheek pulled at her emotions. This was Kara, the love of her life and yet, was that any longer true. How could such be reconciled against the blatant betrayal that had come to a head in recent days?
And for her own. Did she feel the same? Was it possible after discovering and even embracing the feminine as she had? All she had as a guide were her own perceptions and feelings. The love that had been evident as Kara supported and guided. Put up with the no doubt painful depressive moods and actions, or perhaps, lack of action. Who could claim the high moral ground in such an exchange.
"Kara you are the 'one' for me, you always have been. But you pushed against that to the point of breaking. I honestly don't know if... I will always love you, of that I have no doubt. But... "
The pause was like an axe falling to Kara. Better to die on the block than suffer through this interminably.
And then...
"But know that that very love still exists. I can almost understand why you...
did, what you did. I can follow the steps that got you there. Though it causes me a great deal of pain to admit, I know I am at least partly to blame. Had I not been so self involved and insular you would not have needed..."
She paused again and looked skyward. No answers there to be found.
"Please, I need to go to work. Can we talk later? It is just possible I over-reacted and need to sit down with you and find... find if there is a reason to hold on. Hold on to whatever it is we have now. If there is anything."
Sam paused and gazed at nothing for a moment. Thought, 'what do you know really? Anything? Or nothing? What is true? Is anything true or real?' Sighed quietly to herself but then Kara was right there and looking intently her way.
"Kara please, meet me tonight, about 7 at the coffee shop by the park, it's open till nine. Shouldn't be too cool, open air, not too crowded. We'll talk. Maybe..." She paused and stared at nothing for a moment her thoughts awhirl.
Kara sagged slightly in relief. She had hoped for a, '..yes I'll see you at home later'. She had a meal planned in her head, nice wine, coffee, cuddle up, kiss and make up. Wishful thinking. Maybe in a Tom Hanks movie, but reality was seldom so simple or accommodating. A stray thought intruded the memory, Sam no longer had a car, so getting there would be tricky, whereas... She sighed softly at the knowledge of all the small and not so small ramifications of what had happened between them. She bit her bottom lip as tears squeezed from her eyes once more.
With something between a sob and a sigh, " Oh Sam. I wish... no. Thank you. I will meet you there. I know this is hard for you and probably more complicated than I can picture. But I love you. Know that that is true. I never wanted to hurt or betray you. You...um, need to fix your face. I'll... I'll see you tonight." She turned, resisting the impulse to wipe at those mascara tracks and walked back to the car before she broke down completely. Yanked on the handle several times before realising... beep beep, opened and slumped in the seat as she half saw Sam slowly walk into the café and disappear from her sight. At least it wasn't for the last time... yet.
Sam was lost in thought as she almost on autopilot headed in to work. Jan intercepted her and with Bill gently waving 'go on' deftly led her to Lucy's office and the staff bathroom adjacent. Lucy looked up and with only a raised eyebrow quietly left as Jan helped Sam into the bathroom and gently urged her to fix herself up. Then left quietly closing the door. It took a few minutes to regain some connection with reality before Sam could do the necessary repairs and then changing shoes, took a last long look in the mirror and headed out to work. As she wrapped the apron around her waist it was evident that the others, even Tony, were a little worried for her. So with a deep breath she smiled at all in turn and nodding 'thanks I'm ok' to each, set to work. The routine quickly settled and calmed her so the day passed smoothly and almost without thought. Just as well she pondered.
A quiet coffee with Jan as usual was... nice. A girl, friend, what a concept. Shaking her head gently she explained briefly about meeting Kara in... half an hour... Her words trailed off as her thoughts turned in spirals.
Jan reached across and gently squeezing Sam's hand, smiled, " It'll be fine. I don't know what happened but I know what I saw earlier. She loves you, very much and she's hurting. I am pretty sure you love her at least as much and you're hurting. We should all be so lucky, hah, does that sound ridiculous or what. Don't let a little hurt cloud the potential for joy. Listen with your heart and then let your head have a say. My guess... heart will win, easy. Emotion shouldn't rule but sometimes it needs to win. But..." she sighed and clenched the held hand tighter. " Good luck hon. I'll see you tomorrow, Ok. Just go with what feels right." And with that she left. Sam gave Bill a gentle peck on the cheek as she headed out with a 'see you tomorrow'.
The streetlights were coming on as the day began to fade and Sam reflected
on her gladness for brightly lit streets and an even pathway as she strolled the few blocks to the Park Café. There were people about, but as she had thought, not that many. The hedged in open courtyard was a nice pleasant spot for a quiet chat or get together. She stopped and gazed at the beautiful but sad woman sitting alone at a table toward the back staring into space as she twisted the sugar bowl mindlessly in her fingers. Kara had showered and changed since this morning and looked a lot better. But she seemed pensive and what? Afraid?
Her head turned and those eyes locked on Sam's as she tried to smile and almost pulled it off. Sam smiled in return and began moving again, through the door, across the room and into the courtyard to sit opposite Kara. Again they just stared at each other for several minutes until a waitress politely enquired if she could get them anything. They both ordered a glass of white and perused the menu as it was handed them as she left with a smile for the drinks. Both settled on pasta, a Tortellini fungi and a Fettuccine Boscaiola. They ordered and sat sipping quietly, each with their own thoughts.
It was a quiet, reflective meal as both sat and contemplated various possible futures and wondered at the prospective bleakness or otherwise. Loneliness and loss, emotions, thoughts, feelings. They crisscrossed each other's pathways without knowing for sure and reached... similar conclusions.
The waitress watched from a distance and wondered at the sad and serious looking pair. A battered wife being consoled by a friend? Commiserations after an accident? With a quiet sigh she walked across and offered coffee which was accepted by both so she poured and left to return with a small jug of milk and smiling left them to it.
They sipped quietly and for the first time since sitting down locked eyes. A great deal of information flowed in that first few seconds, with neither exactly sure of the message. They each reached diagonally with their left hand and clasped gently.
"Ok Sam. I think I'd best start. I, um... hurt you very much, I know that. The reasons, why's or wherefores really don't matter right now. I betrayed you. Sure I could rationalise it and I did for months. But bottom line, I cheated on us for a relief from the loneliness I felt. You were not there really for a long time and well...
"Kara... "
"No Sam. Please let me talk, I need to. I betrayed you. I betrayed us and I got what I deserved. " She waved at Sam and then pointed at her cheek.
"I don't blame you for your reaction. The shock and hurt as you walked out was... well I felt like dying. I sort of pieced together what happened that night and that just made it worse. And when I tried to find out... got smacked for my trouble. I've been stupid and selfish and you have no reason to trust or forgive me. But... I hope you can. I hope you will. I love you more than you can possibly know, man or woman. I want you back in our home with me, together as we should be. I will never make a mistake like that again. If I have lost you as part of me thinks I should, I will survive. But it will haunt me for a long time. I... " She drifted into silence as tears began to run slowly down her face.
Sam watched and listened feeling her emotions ebb and sway as Kara spoke. Could she forget, forgive? Was it all one way? Of course not. But... She sighed softly and tried to stop her own tears from coming.
"Kara... I... I don't know. This... where we are, is not all your fault. How could it be? You hurt me more than anything ever has. More than I thought anything could. But I know I am partly responsible. I was selfish and lost. Yes, depressed and hurting over things neither of us could help or even fully understand. I pushed you away. To that point, I could have understood, but it went further. Much further and that is what hurt. I, um... It's Wednesday night. I'm booked where I am for another 3 days. So... I will try and sort it through and call you Saturday. I... um, I love you. I'd better go." Tears were flowing now as Sam pushed back her chair and without looking back walked away. The bus ride was as sad as the other day and she was very glad to get back to the pokey little room and flop on the bed exhausted. Thinking was just too hard and she lay for hours just drifting. Finally rose, cleaned her face and stripped, slipping naked into the small single bed and was asleep in minutes.
Kara watched silently as Sam left and could not work up the energy to call out let alone chase her. She sat and asked for the bill as the waitress came by, her tears momentarily stilled. Not what she had hoped, but not what she had quite feared either. The axe had not fallen yet. The waitress returned with the change and a quietly spoken, 'It'll work out, hon. You'll see.'
She left the few dollars sitting on the tray as she nodded with a quiet 'thank you' and left, following Sam's footsteps until turning for the car. Still a chance she thought with a small smile. 'Still in with a chance. Oh Sam please come home.' Her thoughts drifted to work tomorrow and an imagined conversation on Saturday as Sam forgave and said she was coming home. 'Think positive Kara, think positive.'
The next two days at work thing resumed a more natural daily grind for both of them. A respite from the fears that assailed them. Each circling a single point, but seeing it slightly differently.
Finally it was Saturday. Kara sat and read and glanced at the clock every few minutes, time dragging as she waited for the Governors call to repeal her execution. Or...
Sam packed her bag and sat on the small bed lost in thought. It was 8am and she had to either pay for another week or leave by 10. Lost in thought she sat for an hour, then with a small shake stood and checking she had her key headed the two blocks to the phone booth. It was empty and working. Taking a deep breath she dialled a number from memory.
The sudden ring jerked Kara from her introspection. She stood and jerkily walked to the phone as tension speared through her. "Hello..."
"Kara... it's Sam. I..." Her thoughts wandered momentarily, flashing back and forth over their lives together.
Kara's hand clenched at the sudden silence and fear for the words she would hear next stabbed her.
"Ah, sorry. Kara, I..." she paused again and felt the peace of decision wash her. Kara tensed and started to cry.
"Kara, I'm doing this badly, I apologise. Please, I... Could you pick me up? I want to come home. I'm at..." Her words were interrupted by a loud sob followed by a blubbery laughter coming through the phone. She smiled as tears began and waited for Kara to speak.
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This follows directly from the main story. If you haven't read that this will mean very little. If you have It will answer a few questions but probably not all. Sometimes they write themselves. This one did.
Relationships are tricky. Motivations not always obvious. You just have to go with your best guess and hope things work out. Sometimes...
This follows directly from the main story. If you haven't read that this will mean very little. If you have It will answer a few questions but probably not all. Sometimes they write themselves. This one did.
Relationships are tricky. Motivations not always obvious. You just have to go with your best guess and hope things work out. Sometimes...
This is a work of adult fiction. No resemblance to reality should be inferred or expected.
Copyright KLS 2006.
The Black Dog - Reprise
By Kristina.L.S.
1.
Gazing blankly out the bus window as it twisted its way across town. Trying to orient herself Sam caught a few landmarks that she recognised. Another two or three stops. Then a few blocks walk. Figuring she could get a room at this place until she decided what to do.
'Fifteen dollars a night in advance. No smoking in the rooms.' Paid up for a week, got a key. Fortunately the credit card read S.L.Keough. Small motel type layout. Single bed, wardrobe, bar fridge, kitchenette, bathroom with shower, basin and toilet.
Unpacked her bag on the bed. Not counting what she had on she had 4 changes of clothes and underwear, 3 pair of shoes, 2 dressy and a pair of runners. A makeup bag, toiletries bag with her tablets in it and a mini disc player with a dozen discs. Put the discs and player on the bed head and put everything else on the sideboard. Sitting on the edge of the bed she rummaged through trying to find something to bring her feelings back. Sarah McLachlan started through the headphones. The first 3 barely registered then number 4, '...hold on...to yourself...this is gonna hurt like hell...' With a gut wrenching cry of anguish Sam slid to the floor sobbing.
2.
Kara drew her gaze back from the closed door and lifted herself from the floor where she'd been kneeling for, how long, half an hour? She stood and turning wiped her face with her open hands. Her gaze travelled across the 2 large yellow envelopes sitting on the table and the single gold key on top. No it wasn't a dream, maybe a nightmare. What the hell had just happened? What had she done? Wanting it all she had lost everything. Tears began again as she rang work and arranged a cover for the day. She tried to replay what Sam had just accused her of. Setting him up to get fucked, no, not that exactly, but he'.. she'd obviously had some sort of sexual experience. Just as obviously, not pleasant and she Kara the loving spouse was blamed. It had to be the other night when she got so drunk. How...what had happened?
She could picture Sam dancing and then very uncharacteristically accusing her of being jealous. The hurt and shock on Sam's face to see her kissing Brian. That thought caused another burst of guilty tears. Then her own shock to see Sam pressed against the wall and kissing Terry. They had disappeared for about 20 minutes. When they came back Sam was on another planet. Almost incoherent, drunk she'd thought. But after her own obvious and cold hearted slap in the face display with Brian she had almost expected that. At the thought of Brian a throb of sexual desire washed over her spiking her nipples under her shirt. With a grunt of self loathing she shook her head. Why had she never just talked to Sam, probably the most thoughtful and least self absorbed person she had ever known.
With another sob she acknowledged her own weakness. No one had ever touched that part of her that Brian did. Turned her from a strong independent woman into a pliable young girl afraid to feel so soft yet loving the very thought of his touch. Fourteen months later she still felt that tingle in her belly at the thought of him. Yet she knew it was self destructive and ultimately superficial. But god ... that feeling.
And what of Sam. The one soul that had wrapped its wings around her own and melded into a part of her. Something she very much doubted could ever happen again, with anyone. Samuel or as she had always privately thought, Samantha, was a part of her like no other ever could or would be.
How had she got here. She remembered the night she met Brian in that bar near work. Sam was sliding into a grey self absorbed swamp and she couldn't seem to reach him. He wouldn't go anywhere and conversation was almost non existent. After putting down 2 old dogs and advising an elderly lady that her precious persian had cancer and would be better off... The pain on the old woman's face as she just shook her head continuously back and forth and walked out carrying the doomed animal. She remembered paying all the household bills on the work computer and feeling lost and alone heading into the bar for a quick drink to fortify herself before facing the cold impersonal fog that washed about the home she shared with Sam. She'd ordered what, a long vodka tonic. One would not push her over the legal limit.
She was sitting at a table and tears were running down her face. Then a soft brogue put a tall glass mug of 'Irish' coffee in front of her.
"Here ya go lassie. You look as though a wee dram of this is just what ya need. Helps fight the chill of whatever you're thinkin' on. Suck on tha' cream and let the old drambui warm ya cockles. Do ya th' world a good. Has no one ere' told ya tha' drinkin' alone is a no no? Bad for the soul." He had passed her a cotton handkerchief, which had got a laugh. Who the hell carried a handkerchief these days? Well this lunatic obviously did.
"What the hell sort of accent is that?"
"Ah well therein lies a tale. Was born in Ireland some 32 year ago but at the ripe old age of 7 mam and pap up'd and off ta Edinburgh. So ya see the old head is a might perplexed as ta whether tis Irish or Scottish. Either way no one can understand a word. Can be awful useful in chattin' up the lassies. Needs must lean close ta figure ma speech. An' then ya be mine, or I be yours dependin' how ya' view these things."
She had laughed and looked up to see 2 deep brown eyes regarding her with an amused and gentle gaze. Then as his hand gently grazed her cheek to push back her hair a flutter she hadn't felt in...months...ever... had tumbled about her heart. She left an hour later, feeling light and happy.
Of course the accent was somewhat put on. His voice was a soft burr but not nearly as rough as that first meeting. After 2 weeks of meeting several times a week in the bar and gradually opening up about Sam and the darkness at home they had slept together. It was like nothing she had ever felt before. To be totally submissive and attentive to a man that while gentle gave no hint of weakness or fear. She was like a 15 year old infatuated with her English teacher and even knowing it was wrong gave herself up willingly and totally.
Several weeks later the contrast between the 2 men in her life had forced a confrontation. Poor Sam had not compared well in the masculinity stakes. So as he tried to understand her recent distance she had dumped her feelings about his true nature over his head and let him deal with it as best he could. Looking back she had probably been quite bitchy and just a touch callous at that moment. She had shattered her husbands self image, albeit one she didn't share, and in the process she pushed him over the edge.
The pain and fear as she'd read the suicide note had hit hard. If she hadn't been trying to figure out where she would have collapsed and sobbed with fear and self loathing.
3.
The pain and guilt she felt after Sam's attempted suicide was almost more than she could bear. The belief that by allowing her feelings of Sam's true nature to slide she had almost caused his death. At first she thought she had pushed too hard. But Sam was an intelligent and sensitive human being and had settled into Samantha so quickly that it was obvious she had been right. Even so the fear and anxiety accompanying that time had made the occasional evening with Brian even more necessary. As Sam became more feminine and apart from an occasional burst of fear over what was happening, accepted his true nature, she felt more pressure to either give up her affair with Brian or let Sam in on what she felt.
If you had suggested a few months ago that she would be like a young girl with the crush of a lifetime and getting balled like she was some Bangkok hooker she would have laughed in your face before punching it. But here she was submitting to a dominance that while gentle was powerful and seductive. Meanwhile her husband and life partner was battling with his, her, own fears and doubts as the feminine in her took over. Caught in the middle she tried to help the one with gentle support and kneel to the other in blissful release.
As she accepted the duality of her own nature and tried to sort out her feelings for both of her lovers the difference in approach to fidelity and love became starkly obvious. She, while torn between the person she pledged to and the one that fulfilled her sexually in ways she had never dreamed possible, was wracked with indecision. Sam had practically asked if she was having an affair and using her increasing femininity to step outside the marriage. Brian had listened to everything she told him about her relationship with Sam and smiling as he pushed a finger inside her suggested she let nature take it's course and as she shivered and slowly erupted with pleasure again pushed aside the fear and need for a decision or even a reasoned discussion.
4.
Slowly as she watched Sam began to recoup the naturally cheerful and gentle nature Kara had fallen for years ago. Began to anticipate her needs and do whatever to ease her way. Even when the pain and guilt of her current situation caused a near breakdown Kara couldn't bring herself to confront it. How could she endanger Sam's recovery and maybe destroy the fragile acceptance of her new persona. Or on the other hand say goodbye to that blissful release she felt in Brian's bed. She began to ring him late at night and play up the joy and abandon she felt with him while, even as she noted her own disgust at doing so, she exaggerated the latent desire to push Sam into a secondary, girlfriend role.
As she wrestled with the choices that weren't choices she had Brian subtly pushing for a decision, a more open relationship. Choose. But she couldn't. So the pressure increased as she tried to be strong for Sam at home and the wanton slut for Brian wherever he wanted to meet. A restaurant, the beach, a nightclub or the benches in front of Town Hall. The lies became almost a reflex. Several times she was sure Sam knew and wanted to fight or leave her. But each time she was able to diffuse things and as her heart gradually returned to her chest she would grab the phone and tell 'him' that 'Sam' was almost gone. Soon, just be patient a little longer. The self disgust grew as her dependence on Brian's touch increased and she clung to Sam to keep her there.
5.
Kara recalled that night as Sam had announced she had betrayed her. The terror that everything was over. Then as it was gently coaxed that she had been seeing Dr Silverman.
The very psychiatrist that Kara had spoken to regarding Sam's feminine nature. The Doctor had listened sympathetically but made it clear that unless Sam was open to treatment little could be done. Kara had never known how Sam had come to see her, unless Jenny at the salon had given her the name.
Then as Sam admitted she had been seeing her for a couple of months and that morning had commenced hormone treatment for gender dysphoria the fear subsided and relief washed over her. She thought that just maybe she could have it both ways. A loving and gentle wife come girlfriend and the man very much in charge whenever they could. But Brian was not happy. He pushed for at the least an open acknowledgment of the relationship. She stalled and played the subservient sex slave whenever they got together.
It was another six months before Brian demanded that she either get Sam to leave or at least become a party to things or it was over. Sam was almost completely a woman now. Seemingly comfortable and happy. The bleak grey cloud had gradually dispersed as the sun came out. Eventually she relented and pushed Sam for a night out. With a good deal of luck a guy Sam worked with was there and gently took Sam out for a spin on the dance floor. The mixed pleasure and a dash of fear that she should not enjoy this despite what her body said had Sam confused and uncertain about the future. But rolled through it over the weekend. Kara started to believe that everything would work out just fine.
Then. That night. Brian had said he had a friend for Sam who liked he-she's. Had lived in Thailand and knew all about it. Despite her reluctance she had agreed and set things in motion. The look on Sam's face as she caught a glimpse across Brian's shoulder almost made her abandon it and take her home.
If Sam would go with her. Like an icy breeze Kara was suddenly struck with the thought of what might happen as she flaunted her infidelity so brazenly. Then Sam was dancing and seemingly enjoying it. The pang of jealousy she felt as she spied Sam and Terry pressed against the wall and kissing hard struck her right in her guilty heart. Brian had kept her dancing and it seemed like forever before Sam and Terry returned. Sam was drunker than she had ever seen her. The guilt hit again, 'what the hell do you expect you selfish bitch. Poor, sweet Sam'.
When Sam fell on the dance floor and then ran to the bathroom Kara was more embarrassed than angry. Both for herself at her treachery and for Sam as she finally came to know the truth of her loving wife's betrayal. Brian and Terry seemed to be more amused than anything and waved goodnight as she tried to get Sam stable enough to leave.
Again the thought that she had 'never' seen Sam that drunk, on what, 5 or 6 drinks. Unless ... God no. Could that be what pushed Sam over the edge that night?
Was it something else? Had they drugged her? Was it just Terry or was Brian part of it? She had told him everything about Sam. Quite apart from the sexual relationship that was a betrayal in itself. What did that say for her so called love? Hell no wonder she'd walked out. So heartbroken and defeated she'd just surrendered everything and left. Kara coughed on bile as the self loathing pushed up her gullet.
Would Sam try to kill herself again? 'Cut her wrists in a cheap motel' Oh Christ what could she do? Grabbing the car keys and her bag she headed out the door glancing again at the envelopes on the table and refusing to contemplate the contents.
Kara clipped in the little ear thingy and called the salon as she drove. Jenny told her the name and where it was. Only a few blocks down. So that's how Sam came across it. It struck her as sad that she had never even asked Sam about the café. She was just happy to have her back from the dumps. Plus it gave a little more leeway with Brian.
Phoned his direct line, "Hello, Brian, it's Kara. Can we get together later? ... ... 1 at the motel, um, yes alright. I'll see you there. ... ... Mmmm yes."
6.
Sam raised her eyes blearily and tried to focus on her surroundings. How long had she been here, the disc had run through so at least an hour and a half. She looked at her watch a slim, feminine but mans Tissot, large enough to actually be useful. Kara had given it to her for their second anniversary. 10.45 she was due at work in 45 minutes. Crap. Another day missed, couldn't face it anyway. Put her clothes away and the makeup and toiletries in the bathroom. Splashed her face with water and decided to go for a walk and seek a phone.
Taking the key and her wallet she opened the door and almost walked straight into a small Chinese woman. She was standing uncertainly right in front of the door and glanced back to the right where in the doorway of the next unit stood a small but strong looking man and 2 mop top kids of 4 or 5.
As Sam returned her gaze the lady gave a small bow and explained, "We hear noise like pain and not sure what to do. Then was silent for long time. Just about to knock and if no answer would get manager."
Sam blinked back tears and returning the bow first to the woman and then her, presumably husband and children, thanked them for their thoughtfulness.
" I was upset and crying I apologise if I worried you. I'll be ok now. Do you know where I could find a phone?" The small woman pointed to the corner of the building where a glass booth stood, she was shaking her head, 'broken' then signalling 2 jumps with her hand Sam guessed 2 blocks over. She nodded and smiled the little woman bowed again and returned to her family. Sam turned and with a thank you and a wave began walking.
7.
Kara parked across and a few spaces down from the café. She could see people moving about. No one she recognised and certainly no Sam. A guy standing behind the counter might be, what was it, Bill that's right. He might know something. 'Nearly 11. I'll ask after Sam and have a coffee or two. If I'm lucky she'll show and maybe be willing to talk.' She locked the car and headed across the street.
"Excuse me. Do you remember me from a few weeks ago? You had a dance with Sam. I was hoping she'd be here."
"Sure I remember you little lady. Your Samantha's friend, you were together that night. Sam's alright, I like her." He frowned slightly " She wasn't in yesterday and she's usually here by now if she's coming. Due in half an hour, so maybe. ... You look worried is she in trouble of some sort. Maybe Jan knows something they're friends." He pointed to one of the waitresses across the room.
'Jan. Had Sam ever mentioned a Jan.' Resignedly acknowledged to herself that she hadn't really cared to listen if she had. Too caught up in her own affairs. 'Ugh, nice choice of words you selfish bitch.'
"Could I get a strong cappuccino and some raisin toast please?"
"Sure. Sit over that side somewhere and I'll get Jan to bring it across shortly."
She sat at a table against the wall and facing the door. Hoping Sam would walk in and they could talk. If she was lucky Sam wouldn't spit in her face. With a sigh she knew no matter what, Sam would never do that. Even if it was deserved.
"Cappuccino and raisin toast. You were asking after Sam?"
With an effort she focused on the woman standing next to her. Attractive about 30 she guessed. Had she and Sam... No, Sam wouldn't do that. Raisin toast cut into fingers. She hadn't had toast like that since she was 4.
"Yes. Thank you. Have you spoken to Sam in the last couple of days. I. Um, I'm worried about her and ..." Tears started slowly down her face as she sat staring at the table.
The other woman stood for a moment in indecision then slid onto the other chair.
"Your Kara aren't you. Sam has spoken of you. He, sorry she loves you a great deal and was worried how the current situation would affect your relationship."
At the he she slip Kara's head snapped up and stared into Jan's eyes. "You know? About her, about us?"
"Yes. But only in general terms. She made a few gestures that were dead ringers for my ex and well. It just clicked. I don't think anyone else here knows and I won't tell. As for you, Sam told me about what happened at the school and how you pushed 'him' to realise the potential of the person that he had hidden away through fear. Although she was at first very uneasy and more than a little afraid she made it clear that you were right and was grateful for you being there."
At that last remark Kara started crying in earnest. "Oh god. I've probably destroyed any goodwill I may have had. I hurt her in the worst way I possibly could. And if what I think happened did happen she will never want to see me again and I couldn't blame her in the slightest."
Jan looked at the other woman and judged her distress as deep and heartfelt. She didn't understand what might have happened and could only go with her instinct. She liked Sam and by extension from what she had said of Kara thought she would like her as well.
"You asked if I had heard from her. She wasn't in yesterday and she should be here by now so I guess not today either. I um..." She noticed a table of four sitting waiting and started to rise. A gentle hand on her shoulder stopped the movement.
Bill leant over and whispered," Stay. I'll get them. Mind you I'll probably be blackballed in a demarcation dispute by the International Federation of Waitpersons. Don't tell anyone. Okay." With a half smile and a nod he was gone.
" Thanks Bill. I won't breath a word." She drew an imaginary cross over her chest and smiling turned back to Kara who she guessed had totally missed the byplay. Yep she's hurting alright. I hope Sam is ok.
8.
Sam reached the small group of shops and waited for the phone booth to become available. As she leant against the wall waiting for the woman shrouded in black cloth to finish the feelings of grief and fear took hold again and she slid down the wall to rest her bum on her calves and cried quietly. A few minutes later the woman in black rattled off a burst of some unintelligible language and slamming the phone in its cradle stomped off up the street. Stumbling into the now empty booth Sam rang the work number and waited to find out if she still had a job.
"Oh, um, hi Lucy, it's Samantha......yes I know. I'm really sorry. Yes you could say that.........I can be there tomorrow if you still want me. ......Yes. I'm staying in a small boarding place across town. Yes......I'll be there. Thank you. ...... yes, ... yes I should have left months ago ......all men are ...... . I know ......yes thanks again, I'll be there."
Slumping with relief that for the moment one problem was pushed aside Sam began to shake as visions of a solitary and bleak future washed through her head. With a mental shake she stood straight and barked a brief laugh.
"You pathetic self pitying cow. Walk a hundred yards and you'll probably find someone 20 times worse off than you'll ever be. Shit, talking to yourself again you mad bitch. Get a grip." As she began the walk back to her small room the thought drifted gently in, 'Mad as a hatter. Ah well. Never claimed sanity anyhow. Maybe she should get one of those pre paid phones to carry. Shit what for, who the hell are you going to ring. Your broker. Jesus.'
9.
Jan tried to console by simply being there. She patted Kara's hand gently,
" Come on eat your toast and drink up before it all gets cold."
With an effort Kara straightened, took a big sip and chewed a finger of toast. It dripped butter and tasted wonderful. The 2 slices were gone in moments and she sipped some more trying to gather her thoughts. Jan sat quietly waiting.
Just then a large woman bustled in and spoke to Bill. She glanced at Jan and Kara but said nothing as she headed back to the office.
"Hey you two. Whatever else is going on Sam's ok. She just rang in and spoke to Lucy. She'll be here tomorrow as usual. So relax a little Sam's friend. She may not be fine, but she is more or less ok. I have the impression that she had a major relationship bust up. You two probably know more about that. I don't know any details and I don't think she said much to Lucy either. But she is ok. Ok."
The relief that washed over Kara was evident. She was really worried thought Jan. 'What the hell had happened between these two? From what Sam had said they were so close. It couldn't be easy watching the man you love become a woman right in front of you. Even if she had to some extent brought the issue to a head.' "Just relax here for a while Kara. I'll bring you another coffee."
"Oh. Um, thanks Jan. Is there a bathroom I could use for a minute. I, ah, need a slight freshen up."
"Sure just through there past the kitchen and office." She ordered the second cappuccino and went back to work. Kara was back a few minutes later looking more or less human. She sat and sipped quietly then just sat after finishing. Jan cleaned up the plates and cups. She was pretty sure Kara didn't even know where she was at the moment. Whatever had happened had caused a lot of pain. She hoped Sam was really ok. She had said how important Kara was to her more than once. For both their sakes she hoped things weren't fatally damaged. Looking at Kara and knowing Sam a little she thought not. But who knows. Small things can destroy a relationship and by the look of this it wasn't a small thing. With a sigh she concentrated on working and left Kara to her thoughts.
With a slight shake Kara roused herself and glanced at her watch, a mid size waterproof, shockproof Tag Heuer that Sam had given her for Christmas shortly after they married. A little after 12.30, she'd been sitting here for over an hour. Time to go meet Brian and see if she could find out what happened the other night. She slipped a twenty under the small vase on the table. She suspected they might refuse to charge her. She thanked Bill and Jan for their kindness and as she suspected they refused to take any money. With a smile and a wave she thanked them again and headed to the car.
She was a few minutes late at the motel. Brian's car was there already as she pulled in beside it. Grabbed her bag and locking the car headed to the door. Brian opened at her knock. He stood there, tie off, shirt unbuttoned and she felt a familiar flutter in her stomach. He frowned at her brusque manner as she pushed through the door past him without saying a word.
"Well hullo to you too darlin'. Are we not in a jolly mood then? And here's me thinking you couldna' wait to see me again. How's your wee sissy boy after the other night? Bit too much for the poor dear eh. Can'na hold 'her' grog tha's fur sure. Terry was a bit put out. He was afta' a night with a nice pretty boy. And I know what you wanted. Somethin' of a letdown if ya know wha' ah mean."
"Just what did you do to Sam the other night. I have never seen her that drunk, ever." She glared at him and waited.
With a smirk he laughed at her, " Oh come look ah this. You playin' the innocent. Your pathetic little sissy boy wus settup tah have a big one with Terry, by you. He rather fancies that type. Don' see tha attraction meself when the real thing is righ' there on tap. But each ta their own eh. Yon 'Samantha' got a wee bit more tha 'she' bargained fuh. Life's a bitch eh. ...Poor love, ya look a might peeked. Not quite wha ya had in mind eh. Well ahm sick ah playin' in tha background. You set the rules darlin'. We jus upped tha ante a wee bit. Serves the fucker right. Fuckin' pathetic." With a bigger smirk and a leer he leant over and right in her face, "Come on then Kara darlin' give us a kiss. Forget tha piece ah crap yah married to. Time is a waistin'"
The anger bubbled up and reflexively she slapped him hard across the face, "You bastard. How could you do that? If you think..."
She saw almost in slow motion the shock cross his face, then the anger and watched as like a kids cartoon a huge fist floated toward her and with a burst of light slammed her left cheek and knocked her to the floor.
Her hand was shaking as she reached gingerly to her cheek. Swollen already. 'Hope the bone's not fractured'. Felt moisture below her nose, touched a small trickle of blood. She shook her head and stopped immediately as a vicious throbbing assaulted her nerves. Gingerly she got to her knees and tried to focus. Brian was straightening his shirt, tucked and buttoned. Then carefully retied his tie and brushed his hair with his fingers. Looking like something in a macho version of GQ he turned toward her.
"Well darlin' tha did na go quite as planned. The room is payed through till tha mornin'. You might want a bit ah ice on tha cheek. Really should be more careful around doors. Don' call me ah'll call you eh." With that he left and she heard his car start and pull out. She sat numbly for a while as tears rolled down her face. ' Oh Sam what did I do to you?' She crawled up onto the bed and curling up sobbed in pain and regret. Sometime after dark she washed her face and headed home.
10.
Sam lay back on the thin mattress and stared at the ceiling but all she saw was Kara's face as it crumpled in realisation that Sam was leaving. The anguish on that lovely face was real. How could she have done what she did? It was more than obvious that Brian was a little more than a passing acquaintance. As for Terry, her throat tightened as acid began to push up the wrong way.
All the clues had been there to see. Sam just did not want to. So she hadn't. Until finally the blatant next chair, here you go lover girl, watch how it's done.
Tears began again. How could Kara do that? Not talk to her... what, husband. Shit. Still some explanation was called for. But no, just an in your face display of this is womanhood on the make. Get used to it. Then... ... there was a gentle tap on the door. Glancing at her watch, 5.29, where had the day gone? Checking that the key was still in her jeans pocket she walked to the door. Nobody knew she was here, who would knock? She opened to find the small Chinese woman.
"Come. It no good to be alone. We have food before husband go to work. You come and eat. Soup and noodle help with sad. Come. Children." The two small moppets took a hand each and led her next door, helped her to sit on the cushions and passed a steaming bowl of vegetables and noodle soup. Suddenly with a rumble her stomach made itself heard. The kids giggled and covered their mouths. Mama nodded with a big smile and nodded to her husband who gruffly returned the nod as he tucked in with a spoon. Forty minutes later dad left with a gentle bow to each child and a deeper one to his guest and then his wife. Refusing any assistance the children cleared and straightened the dinner things and then rearranged everything into a sort of pallet for sleeping. Realising that she needed to leave Sam bowed deeply to each of them and thanking them for their hospitality took her leave. Mama smiled widely and ushered her out.
It was perhaps 20 minutes later that another soft knock was heard at her door. She opened to find mama with another small Chinese woman standing outside her door. With a lot of bowing and wringing of hands Sam gradually realised that mama had the chance to make a little money in a local restaurant but could not leave the children. With a smile she said she would watch them. Back 1 o'clock. No problem. She settled in the large pillows and watched them lying there with big eyes, mama rattled of some Mandarin and bowing several times left.
She must have nodded off and woke to find the little girl curled in her lap. With a very gentle stretch she eased a kink in her leg as the child resettled. Gently pushing the hair back from the round little face Sam wondered at innocence and how fleeting it could be. 'I hope life is kind little one'.
She was awoken by mama gently shaking her shoulder and easing the little girl back to her pallet. With much thanks and bowing and a proffered 10 dollars which Sam refused, she left.
Crept into her bed and slept through till 4am. Tossed and turned for an hour before dozing off and waking again at 9.40. After a quick shower she made herself presentable and putting on her runners and carrying her 'real' shoes and bag decided to walk to work. About an hour she guessed. Maybe her head would be clear by then.
11.
The first thing Kara had done when she got home was ring and arrange cover for another 2 days. She needed to at least see Sam before she gave up. With a few dabs of cream and a cold compress she lay on the lounge in the dark and drifting in and out of sleep realized with the lightening of the air it was tomorrow.
She sipped a coffee and determined to go and wait for Sam. If she never wanted to see her again she would deal with it somehow. Hopefully they could at least talk. If there was any chance at all she had to take it. Then it was up to Sam. After what had happened she held little hope. But a little wasn't none.
She parked opposite again and sat staring up and down the street and across at the café. At least 2 hours but she didn't want to miss her by running late and she couldn't cause a scene where Sam worked if it went badly.
She snapped erect at 10.40. Must have dozed off she thought. Then she spotted a slender figure strolling toward her down the footpath. It was Sam alright. She looked tired and drawn but not grey as she had been. The recent happiness was muted but what could you expect. At least she didn't look broken. 'I probably look worse'.
As Sam got closer she must have recognised the car. She stopped dead and almost turned back. Kara jumped from the car and cried "SAM please!" She stood there sobbing and with tears streaming down her face. She could see the blurry figure stop and take in the bedraggled thing wearing yesterdays clothes and sobbing piteously. She saw the slight wince as Sam noticed her cheek. Then with tears of her own starting she took the 10 paces to wrap Kara in a gentle hug. They stood oblivious as other pedestrians flowed around and tried to ignore this strange apparition on their footpath.
Jan was just rounding the corner and took in the strange sight. She stopped and tried to read what was happening. Then with a smile continued on her way.
The End.
Any thoughts or comments I can be contacted - [email protected] Anything short of abuse welcome.
This is the finale. It follows directly from 'The Next Day' and tries to answer those questions that remained unanswered. Whether it does that is for you to judge.
Can love survive where the people have to look at what is rather than what they expected, or maybe wanted... The final episode. No correspondence will be entered into... probably.
This is a work of adult fiction.
No resemblance to reality should be inferred or expected.
Copyright KLS 2007.
The Black Dog - Epilogue
By Kristina.L.S.
1.
As the car pulled into that familiar carport Sam had not expected to see again she felt a tension. An unexpected nervousness at returning to what had been her home. But nothing was as it had been only a couple of weeks earlier.
Kara turned off the engine and glanced across with a seemingly mirror image of that nervousness sitting just behind the confident façade.
"Well hon, we're home. I... um, it seems a little silly to talk about I should have, or whatever, I guess we have to go from here. Please, I'll get your bag just go inside and..." her voice trailed off as she realised that Sam no longer held a key. That was sitting in a drawer inside with a couple of large legal envelopes that she had only glanced at before slipping them into a drawer and vowing never to open them again. There were probably a couple of tearstains on those envelopes she thought.
With a sigh she got out grabbing Sam's bag from the back seat and lead the way to the door. She was not unaware of the tension in her... what? Husband no longer applied and she was not sure lover really did either. Just one more thing they had to work through she thought. The enormity of what had been wrought, albeit for what at least started as non-selfish reasons, struck her and she paused as the weight of that sat very heavily on her slender shoulders.
Sam noted the pause, the slight slump and then the straightening as Kara fumbled for her key, an action that was very unlike her. She was always positive and controlled, but Sam had to acknowledge that the circumstances that surrounded them both were hardly normal and that small circumstantial clue focused her on what to now had been... prevarication, un-surety? Well whatever, she now mentally tightened and determined to work as necessary to make this... work. She had no doubt at all that she loved Kara, but was that enough? The man Kara had married in a sense no longer existed and even though it had been Kara's actions that to a large extent had pushed Samantha into the world... that no longer mattered. Reality, the present version of it had to be dealt with, as hard as that might be.
It remained to be seen whether love alone could bind them. No matter what pain and difficulty had gone before Sam was determined to give it her all... and if that was not enough she would sadly leave as had been the intent only a week ago. That pain and yes, anger, still sat in a largely unexplored sector of her mind.
But it was there and all that needed doing was for her to gather her will and actually leave. The very idea brought tears to her eyes, but it had to be considered. Could Kara accept a life, a relationship with a person that though she loved was not who or what she seemingly needed?
2.
The door opened after a fumble of keys and Kara stepped through and held the door for Sam as she hesitated for a second and then followed. Both were seemingly struck by a sense of dislocation as they stood unsure of where to turn or what to say. After a few seconds silence, that seemed considerably longer, Sam took her bag from an un-protesting and unsure Kara and headed up the short staircase to the landing hallway. She headed along past laundry and bathroom to the master bedroom and stopped. She stood there in the doorway for what seemed like an hour. But was more likely less than a minute, trying to decide... Was that room hers? Did she belong there any more?
She closed her eyes and let her thoughts roam, after a moment more and feeling no more sure? Confident? Stepping back she took the few extra steps to the second bedroom. Again she closed her eyes and stepped forward to feel, less unsure at least. She placed her bag at the foot of the bed and stood still again with eyes closed as if sensing the air and environment for answers. No response or alert came and after... minutes? She turned to see Kara standing in the doorway... just looking in with an expression that could only be described as unbearably lonely and more than a little lost.
They stood facing one another... again time seemed distorted and somewhat irrelevant. After... a while they both spoke at once, which was of course how this seemed to go. Nothing fit and everything overlapped and seemed... wrong.
After two false starts... "Kara, I... Sorry if this seems a rejection of you in some way. I honestly didn't know where I would turn as I came up those stairs. I stood in the... our, bedroom doorway and it just... seemed, wrong to be there. Maybe... but for tonight, I think I need to just settle myself and then, um... we'll see I guess..." her voice trailed off as Kara had not moved or spoken. Beyond that deep sadness that sat on her face she was, well waxen came to mind, Madame Tussauds... life like, yet not.
With a snap Kara roused herself, Sam's action had hurt her far beyond the simple reason and even her own understanding of it. She probably should have expected it, yet she had built a scenario in her mind as to how this whole thing would play... and it had just been demolished by a simple expression of Sam's indecision and she guessed, fear. With thoughts running wild through her mind she smiled... no doubt a little crookedly and turned.
"I understand hon, um... please, settle in and I'll... I, ah... I'll go down and make us a coffee and when you're comfortable or maybe just ready enough... we can, ah, talk and see... see where we are."
She smiled, or made the motions of doing so while glancing back at Sam who had not moved and was watching her with an intensity that made her want to cry. Before she did she headed back down stairs to the kitchen.
Sam's emotions spun and swirled as she sat back on the bed taking in the feel and taste of home and Kara's obvious distress and probable discomfort. Again she stood and tried in some esoteric way to touch the spirits of the house and discern a path, a way to make things... all right. After another moment or two she sighed and resigned herself to having to do it the old fashioned way. Reasoned discussion... Sounded simple and yet it was in a way the hardest thing they would do together. Sit and talk... and decide if they had a future together and if not... There, her determination failed and she felt tears begin.
With a deep breath and a hollow feeling she left her bag where it lay and headed out the door and down the stairs to join her... wife, in the kitchen. Coffee seemed like a very good idea, she hoped Kara had made a big pot and had biscuits or cake or something to occupy hands and mouth with. She suspected talk might not be easy to come by, at least for her... and she guessed Kara would not be any easier at the moment. Blame was for another time... perhaps, for now there was just... with another sigh she continued down the stairs and tried to not think ahead.
Kara started as Sam came into the kitchen behind her, it was obvious her thoughts had been a long way away. A 'with who' thought popped unbidden into Sam's mind and in an attempt to break that particular spell she stepped up and pressed her chin into Kara's neck crossed her left arm across and cupped her right shoulder. Her right arm snaked gently around Kara's waist and settled right hand at her left hip, a position that Sam had always found immensely pleasurable; a simple connection. Now if Kara could just lean back into it as had been her habit...
At first she stiffened, but after a moment and an audible sigh she leant back and if the feeling of the body behind her was not quite as it had been, she knew it was still her Sam and that was more than she had any right or expectation to ever feel again.
A gesture so simple and yet wrapped with meaning for those two people at its core.
3.
They stood just letting the scent and feel of the other wash over them for maybe ten minutes, a hint of peace and acceptance; a gesture that all might not be lost. Then as the jug clicked and the dribble of thick aromatic liquid ceased, they separated, with, both acknowledged silently, a hint of reluctance. It was nearing lunchtime and neither had given thought to food and both for similar reasons had not had breakfast.
The next ten minutes might have been comical if it weren’t deadly serious. Both trying to alleviate the fears of the other, to make things comfortable and pleasant and... normal.
They fussed and cut cake and spread spreads and generally played mother to each other that eventually had them both smiling and shaking their heads as they sat across from one another at the kitchen table and recognised just how silly they must look.
But that look was enough to start a re-connection. Both in a few seconds looked into the other and saw what it was that had started a friendship and then love. A knowing and understanding of who it was that sat opposite, separate and yet not. A beginning, or perhaps the beginning of a new beginning. Sam's laugh at her own ridiculously worded thoughts caused Kara to smile in that...'what?' way she had.
With a bemused shake of the head Sam just smiled back and watched as Kara's smile stayed, as Sam had hoped it would. The thought, maybe hope of this working became stronger and needing another physical reminder and simple reassurance stretched her hand half way across the table.
Kara watched Sam's movement and after only a second matched it. And so they sat holding hands like a pair of love-struck kids making up after a fight. It seemed both recognised the innate silliness that sat alongside the deep and meaningful. Both laughed slightly at how things that meant so much could often look so ridiculous to anyone that might be looking on. That both knew what the other was thinking, almost exactly, said much. So they sat and held hands and tried to organise their thoughts. How to say and to ask and to question... and when.
Now? No, not now, later. Now we settle and absorb and see what might be and think and wonder about the other and what they might want and perhaps need. Few things are certain.
Saturday drifted and waned easily and peacefully. It was only with the approach of bedtime that a slight discord settled. Both took a little too much care to step around the other and both felt a faint unease. They wanted to share and yet were not sure that was a good idea... just yet. And so they tiptoed around one another and both went separately to bed in different rooms.
Both lay for some time with thoughts drifting and touching on this and that before wandering again. It was the early hours before either succumbed and slept.
It was Sam that awoke suddenly heart pumping with a slight feeling of being trapped of feeling a weight that should not be. It was only seconds before the realisation settled and the racing heart slowed. That weight was an arm, draped loosely across her body. With a mental sigh of mixed pleasure and a hint of sadness she pressed backwards gently to increase contact.
She held her breath, not wanting to disturb and was gratified to feel a small settling and adjustment as Kara pressed closer in response. Her breathing stayed deep and slow as Sam held hers just feeling the others presence, slowly relaxed and with a small smile on her lips, allowed sleep to come again.
Sunday morning both awoke at almost the same time and after a momentary indecision turned to face one another. The almost identical short silken nightclothes, slick against their skin. Each took in the others presence and felt that just maybe everything would be, all right. They needed to talk, to try and understand the others position. Kara knew that she held the bigger burden there and hoped she could make enough sense to allow Sam to, if not understand completely, at least enough to forgive. She knew without doubt that she needed this person, here with her. Samuel or Samantha did not matter at all but... she had to acknowledge with all that gone before and the pain it had caused, Samantha was more real. There would be challenges and difficulties. Not least she had to reconcile her own actions toward her true love and what had been with Brian. Trust had been breached and damaged. Now they needed to rebuild.
4.
Content for the moment to just let time and feelings flow they lay together, cuddling and simply absorbing the others presence. Safe and warm and at peace at least for the moment, they dozed. It was ten before they roused again and driven by the need for the bathroom as much as a desire to commence the day they rose, took their turn and quietly dressed.
A simple brunch was prepared and eaten. Both were aware that they needed to discuss what had gone before and what might come, but both were slightly unsure of how and where to start. A pensive air permeated the house as soft music was played and each waited on a signal, from somewhere, to begin. Morning became afternoon and drifted slowly, while conversation remained neutral and sparse.
Sam felt the tension in her body rising slowly and knew they had to work things out or it would fester and they would break once more. Most likely a final break should it come. The CD playing was Michael Bublé and as he crooned of distance, feeling alone and wanting to come 'Home', Sam felt tears begin.
Kara saw and understood, "Oh Sam, this is home and I'm here and I want you here as well. Samantha is who you are and neither of us can deny the reality of that. I know you are a little afraid and unsure of what I need or want... whether you fit anymore." She took a breath and gathered her thoughts.
"I hurt you, I know that and I... well, why I guess, huh?" She paused again and was aware of Sam's silent focus and that the emotions seemed stilled for now.
"I told you that I'd always felt you more feminine than masculine and that I believed for some reason you had hidden that truth from yourself. So I watched and waited expecting that sooner or later you would come to that realisation yourself, but instead you held yourself tight and slid into depression. You have no idea how much that hurt me and every time I tried to get you to open up and talk to me you couldn't or wouldn't." Sam had not moved or made a sound but her gaze was intense as she waited for Kara to tell the why of it. After a slow deep breath Kara continued.
"Simply I felt lost and alone. You would not connect with me and seemingly no longer wanted to and after weeks and weeks of that dark cloud that sat around you I needed to feel and touch. Something you could not and apparently did not want to do." She shrugged slightly and with a crooked smile continued.
"Then after another day of work and with nothing at home to look forward to I stopped for a drink before facing 'bleak house'. And I met Brian. He was charming and attentive and listened and made me... feel. For the first time in months I felt human. Desired, wanted and he took what I was and I did not even try to resist. Within three days we were lovers and you did not even notice how little I was there."
Kara watched the tears drop from Sam's eyes and felt her own tingle in sympathy, but she held them back.
"And so began a spiral. I wanted you to care, to notice and you didn't and I guess couldn't, but at the time it was simply... you did not care, so... sex became my feelings. The suicide attempt really threw me. You have no idea of the guilt and shame I felt but by this time Brian had touched something in me that I had never felt and though I wanted to I couldn't give up."
"He had strength, a basic male strength that I needed because I was lost and adrift, my world was engulfed in a fog built by my husband and yes I know that's stupid but it's what I felt. And so began the dance as I talked to him and told him almost everything and he pushed and used my weakness and desires to distance me from Sam and force Samantha to the surface. I wanted you healthy and whole and so I rationalised and it seemed to work. By the end I had convinced myself, I was so sure that Samantha didn't want me anymore, whereas Brian did."
"I knew you still cared but not enough in comparison. I made the classic mistake of believing in love where it didn't exist and ignoring it where it did. Tunnel vision... I don't know, I do know he did not love me... he simply wanted to take the love we shared because I don't think he can feel it. He wants it but does not know how to... open himself to it. When... that night... I knew, but couldn't acknowledge it. But the next day, when you left the whole house of cards fell apart and I felt so lost and alone and I understood, finally where you had been. My god, so bleak and cold... it was only the need to be sure you were ok and then the chance of you coming back. That's all that kept me going for a day or two." She shrugged and became aware for the first time of the tears running down her face and the blend of pain and loss and love and hope that mingled within her.
So softly Kara could only just hear her Samantha began to speak, "You know Kara that night, when you forced me to see Samantha and the next day as I sat on the back veranda. I remembered... I knew you were right. Fear, lock and key... you were right. When I was twelve, alone in the house I let myself explore something I believed... had been taught, was wrong. Years of questioning and vague feelings of not being right... well in short I dressed in my mothers clothes, skin out, everything and a bit of makeup. Of course I got caught. The look of contempt on her face as she watched me strip and dress, properly. Had me scrub my face for minutes and barely spoke to me for days after."
The silence was thick and heavy between them broken by a barely audible, "Oh Sam."
Straightening slightly, "When she did speak to me three days later it was sunny and bright and I was her boy and... the girl, got put away. I was still her boy, the same gentle and loving son she believed in and loved and I wanted that. So... you were right all along, I simply fought it."
The silence returned but this time it wasn't heavy. It was gentle as if a storm had passed.
The discussion wandered and slipped from one to the other, questions were asked, sores were lanced and pain expunged. A small and light evening meal broke the flow, but it was only an interruption and they continued into the night.
Where finally they embraced and acknowledged what each knew. That love was real and they felt it, one for the other. Woman or man was not that important. But they were again as one and the fog was gone.
As night slipped across and time passed to become tomorrow, Sam retrieved her bag and placed it in their room, unpacking could wait till tomorrow. Clothes removed and nightclothes slipped on, they climbed into a shared bed and embraced a now far more real future together. Wrapped into each other they felt peace and love and allowed sleep to claim them.
CODA:
If one were to look across... and up from near the small house where Sam and Kara lay intertwined almost as one, you might see a ghostly, hazy, mirage like hill. If you were to squint a bit, staring into the gloom you would perhaps make out the shape of a large dog. It sits quite still, front paws slightly extended and crossed, tongue lolling and moving gently with each breath. You might note a slight tilt of the head to one side as if it were pondering weighty matters.
Now were you the type to humanise animal behaviour you might decide that it had a strange expression on its face, a grin almost. You might say it looked amused. A glint of humour in the dark eyes, as it rose effortlessly to its feet and shook itself from tip of tail to nose and fluffed its thick black coat in the process. You might see a small nod and perceive a quiet chuckle as it turned and then glancing back over its shoulder with a... 'we shall see...' tilt of the head, watch as it trotted into the haze and disappeared. Then if you were of a fanciful, imaginative persuasion, you might even hear a wavering ghostly howl... of a wolf... or a large dog, calling to its fellows in the distance... You might, in the even greater distance hear a wafting answer, that trilled ever so slightly to resemble a hyena's cackle.
You might then with a hint of unease, laugh slightly at yourself and turn inside... taking care that the door was locked against the night. But as the light clicked off, it would seem that the darkness became just a bit more so and the temperature just a little less. And perhaps that howl carried just a little further and more clearly.
We are all alone when the darkness comes.
The End.
With thanks to those that trust and share; for their thoughts and support... It means a great deal. For this one: Anne, Nick, Jan, Jamie, Sheila, Tina, thank you, but if I don't use your suggestions, it's just me being stubborn. As ever, any errors or misunderstandings, they're down to me.
Any thoughts or comments or questions I can be contacted —
[email protected]
Anything short of abuse welcome.
So, what to wear; will he want or maybe expect girly or is that a cliché?
Somewhere a little on the girl side of middle will have to do.
The idea for this has been rolling about a while. Various things I've read mixed with some personal experience and no, I haven't had this particular interview. One of these days…
This is a work of adult fiction. No resemblance to reality should be inferred or expected.
Copyright KLS 2008.
The Interview
By Kristina.L.S.
The second cup of coffee helped to open the eyes and get the blood moving. I'd worry about finding a loo nearer the appointment time. Guaranteed I'd need it. Even with food, which for some reason I couldn't face this morning, coffee had a slightly draining effect a few hours later. Thank god it wasn't till 10.30. At least I had a few hours to look semi normal; normal was probably a stretch on a good day, but hey... I'd give it a go.
So, what to wear; will he want or maybe expect girly or is that a cliché? I stood there in thought for a few minutes, mentally running through my meagre wardrobe.
Somewhere a little on the girl side of middle will have to do. Stripping off the old T and cotton beach pants that served as jammies, I stood naked and appraised the reflection in the mirror. Long and lanky, knobby knees and feet and hands a smidgen bigger than they should be. Face, well… not too bad but hardly Elle Macpherson…then who was. Figure? Naeah… Not bad. The boy bits were a little smaller than they used to be but still sort of worked, not that that was a plus. Bubbies a smallish B, well hey, they were all mine and felt good. As long as you didn't run…how the hell any woman could run with those bouncing about I'd never know. I actually liked running so favoured sports bras, what a glamour puss huh. Yeah well tight budget, so multi purpose won over glamour mostly.
Slipping on the pale blue lycra briefs and matching bra took a few seconds as I pondered the outer layer. It was a bit overcast so something with a little warmth.
Sheer pantyhose a faded cotton cami T and a twill mans shirt loosely tied on top and to bottom it off a full cotton circle skirt falling mid calf. That crá¨me frangipani print outline on the navy looked pretty good I thought. Matched the shirt and set off the faded red cami. Shoes? Hmm… the slip on suede flats in charcoal that matched the pouched shoulder bag.
Ah the face. A quick slap of moisturiser followed by some finger-smoothed foundation, dash of eyeliner and a swipe of smoky grey shadow. A dusky rose blush brushed on the cheekbones and antique rose on the lips. Hmm, too dark? No it's fine. Then the sealer, a dusting of powder to set it all and give that smooth un-made up glow. Snort, as if.
Jewellery? What bloody jewellery? I had a ropey gold chain and one inch hoop sleepers on… well they almost never came off, that covered the jewellery thing. Watch? Nah had the mobile, that'd do. Quick squirt of red door… grab the bag and out the door.
Christ where did that hour go? Traffic might be a bitch and I do not want to be late.
Made it in and across the city with twenty minutes to spare. Coffee? Hell no, I'd be squirming soon enough. Found a Maccas and used their loo. Did a quick touch up and popped a breath mint, can't be too damn careful can you, not that I'd be kissing the bastard, but even so. First impressions and all that. Bloody hell, girly etiquette lessons and I already knew I'd be watching the posture and deportment so much I'd probably walk into the glass door and break my nose. Well it was fractionally bigger than desired and needed a trim. Might not be the way to go though. Took long enough to work on the voice as is… didn't want to start sounding like Fran Drescher.
Ok, ten minutes. Might as well go in and wait.
The lift pinged and my stomach was tumbling about, though the lift had little to do with it I think. At least the receptionist seems nice.
"Hi I have a…"
"Yes, do you have a referral? Ok, good just take a seat; he'll be with you shortly. " She wandered off with my envelope in hand.
Bloody hell girl why so nervous, you've done this before? Well sort of. Yeah well I was nervous as hell that first time too. This time he's supposed to be a bit of a bastard. Test the mettle, see if you add up. Shit, me add up? Crap, let's see, Who Weekly, Cosmo, the local paper or Wheels. Pulled the phone, ok he's late… and you've crossed your legs five times in as many minutes.
"He'll see you now, just down the hall, knock and enter. "
I stood and looked where she pointed. A short hallway with a door at the end. Felt sort of like the gallows for some reason. Some imagination huh.
A moment later I knocked, heard a muffled, " come…" and opened the door.
I stopped with my hand on the door knob half through the door and took in the room.
A view across to the south of the city, book shelf along one wall, crammed with files and medical texts. Two chairs my side looking comfy enough and a desk right of centre. The big leather chair behind that desk held a figure that seemed tall and solid. He was slouched down and stretched with his ankles crossed in front of the flat monitor and gazing over his half glasses at the screen, his hands crossed on his chest. He looked more like an eccentric truck driver than a psychiatrist. Without moving he spoke.
"Here, before you sit, take a look. How is old Bradley by the way?" He flicked what I assumed was my referral so I guessed he meant my regular psych, Dr Brad Whitstone.
Moving so I could see the screen I took in the images of me entering the reception room and sitting and waiting and then walking down the hall. Trying to be objective I looked ok… not too manic anyway. Damn I need to pee again.
"Take a seat" So I did as he dropped his feet and rested his still crossed hands on the desk.
"So, you want to get your boy bits rearranged into some approximation of girl bits, hmm?"
"Um, yes… that's right."
"Why?"
"Why?"
"Yes. Why?"
"Um.." Shit stop umming. "Well, I suppose so that I can look and feel the way I should."
"… the way you should. I see. Isn't that just a little mad. Destroying perfectly good tissue and organs to cater to some psychological insecurity?"
Shit I had been warned he was a hard arsed bastard, but… ooh boy. " Well if it's an insecurity I've had it for a long time and if I'm mad then there's plenty more that're madder. A regular possessor of these, um, bits… would likely scream and cringe at the idea. But then I guess I'm irregular."
"Indeed so, but does that mean we the medical professionals whose job it is to oversee the health of society should cater to the whims of the, ah irregular amongst us?"
"Well I think a thirty year whim deserves some overseeing, don't you?" The first sign of expression crossed his face then as he twitched the corner of his mouth in… amusement?
He leant forward a little, "So got a boyfriend have you? Some other irregular that wants to pretend he's a normal man by fucking some vague impost of womanhood?"
Ah, I had to smile at that one, " A boyfriend? Hell I don't have a boyfriend or a girlfriend or many other friend friends, or a fucking family or a damn career or even a stable job because that whim of mine gets in the way and upsets people. So if it's all the same to you and it doesn't offend your ethical overseeing I'd like to get it sorted. I mean I'd hate to waste all that angst and anger. Not to mention depression."
"Depression?"
"Yes, funnily enough I get a little depressed every now and then. Being the object of so much admiration and love gets me down sometimes. The next paparazzo that snaps me in public is gonna get his Canon telephoto shoved up his arse and his tongue nailed with a wide swung Manolo." I sighed as he sat watching, unmoving.
"Yeah, well I get a little depressed sometimes", I tried to stop shifting in my chair. "I get lonely and feel sorry for myself ok. The old why me's I guess, but hell why not. I have as much right to screwiness as the next person. I worry about selfishness and the pain it causes others and wonder at the anger that seems to come from nowhere from people I don't know and why it has to be me that walks away. And I.. well it's simply about being me. Not sex or clothes or any of the other so called feminine accoutrements. Yes I wear a skirt and I do have some makeup on and part of me enjoys and feels right doing it. But it's not that…"
"So you wear skirts and makeup and yet that is not part of it? So if I were to say, fine we will cater to your whim if you never wear a skirt or a dress or makeup or anything considered feminine again. You can be female as far as your documentation and to the degree medicine can achieve it, but you can't show it openly, ever.. what then?"
"Then? Then I guess I'd agree and say screw you silently and do what I wanted later. And if I couldn't I suppose part of me would feel as I do now. Incomplete somehow, left out and excluded. Always some rule or something to get past. I don't know; do you expect people sitting here to lie to you? To try any way they can to get you to nod? Part of me might want to, but I can't… I never could. Maybe that's partly why I'm here."
I could feel a tear trickle down at that point. I knew I'd blown it. No way would he say yes. He'd as good as proved it wasn't purely body image. Bastard didn't move, just sat there looking.
"Look, what do you want? My life story and all the points that got me thinking about what is a boy or girl and why am I different to him or her or whoever. Do I pass some test that says I'm more girl than boy and do I walk and talk right? Do I present well? Do I respond to colour or body language and do I track the direction of sound accurately? Can I read a bloody map? Do I know your check shirt does not match your pinstriped pants? Is that award there crooked? Hell… there's a million possible questions and as many answers. I may not be little miss perfect girl. I don't do frills, I swear a bit and drink too much. I work on cars, though that's more cost than desire, but it can be satisfying. I cry at sappy movies and even ads on telly. I don't care much for sports but I can watch some and enjoy. I work and live and try to be a regular person. I just want to feel better when I stand naked in the shower. Even if no one else ever joins me, I'll be me." I lapsed into silence not sure where to go next. What did he want?
"Your life story? Not much there really is there. I read it a week back. At least so far as Brad had noted it. Underachiever and chronic loner seems about it. So if you get your wish are you going to slide into depression because you need some other crutch to lean on and off yourself in the bath? I know you tried once before."
"I… um, I didn't try really. I got close I guess but I walked away and I think I'm past that point now. If I was going to kill myself I'd have done it years ago. "
"So what makes you, a too tall gawky looking imitation woman think you can live your life and be happy as some castrated freak of nature? A laughable mockery of that you desire to be. You can't have family unless you attach yourself to someone elses. In all likelihood you will live and die alone, trying to prove a point to whoever wants to take note. Prince Charming doesn't want you and Princess Charming isn't interested either. So what do you want out of this?"
"Um, I suppose all that may be true. Maybe no one does want me and never will. But that's no more or less than a lot of others. I just want to feel comfortable to be me. Anything else is… well dreams. Nobody knows, do they?"
He twitched again and the smile got wider as he sat back. Somehow it became a conversation then, not a confrontation and the next hour and a half drifted by as he chatted about all sorts and listened to my answers and bounced topics about. He was good to talk to, imagine that.
He actually got up to see me out, all the way to the front door and bade me, " Have a good day my dear. Give my regards to Bradley."
I rode down in the lift trying to decide whether I'd screwed up royally or passed somehow. I noted almost absently the sun was out and it was a lovely day. For some reason I had a wide smile on my face and people I passed smiled back. A nice gentle Summers day, what's not to smile at. Gee I can be a silly bitch sometimes. I think I laughed out loud. 'Sum-mer-time and the livin' is eeeasy… That wasn't so hard. I do need a loo though.'
This was written some 20 years ago in High School. It is my only attempt at poetry. Succinct is not in my vocabulary.
It is naíve and not fully realised, but the sentiment is real. I had considered posting this earlier, but… The efforts of the new BC poetess laureate Kate prompted a decision to do so.
The Journey
By Kristina.L.S.
The twin mounds on my chest and the furrow
between my thighs mark me as woman.
But this was not always so.
For I was born with a body foreign to me
With parts that did not fit
and feelings opposed.
The road to truth is hard
But where else could I tread?
With false starts and years wasted
Sorrow grows as resolution slips away.
But focus the mind and trust in your soul
And whatever spirit guides you
will lead you to the path you must follow.
As you place one foot in front of the other, step by step
The obstacles and barriers will fall away
Until you reach that place you are meant to be
Become the person you have to be
Be true to yourself whatever the cost
For to be whole at last is worth it
I am marked as woman
I wear them with pride.
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It's funny how things happen sometimes. You're stumbling along as normal and suddenly because of some random event everything flips upside down.
This is a work of adult fiction. No resemblance to reality should be inferred or expected.
Copyright KLS 2008.
Things Just Happen
By Kristina.L.S.
1.
She sat back in her saggy old lounge and sighed quietly as a small smile crept across her face. Hey, 11 o'clock, what a wild Friday night. Three hours she'd been, gently scrubbing and wiping down and buffing her new baby. It was beautiful, the best seven and a half grand she'd ever spent. After looking about for months and trying a few here and there she'd found this one advertised in the Trading Post. It was exactly what she wanted, in budget and in good nick. Now it was hers, locked up nice and safe in her little garage downstairs. Rego transfer was in the mail and the insurance cover slip was sorted. Another small sigh escaped as her thoughts wandered.
The last few years had been tough but hopefully things were coming together and if she was lucky she'd have the money for the op in another year or so. Thailand most likely, home here in Oz would have been preferable but no way could she afford it. Twenty-five plus versus fifteen over there; no contest on a budget. Still a lot of searching and checking to be sure, there were a few possibles. That was a decision for when it was time.
The seven and a half was a hit to the bank balance, but she still had to live and get about. Public transport was a pain in the behind so realistically it made sense. Besides, there was a bit of pure fun attached, which was worth considering. Given her budgeting and saving schedule she was on track, thanks to the recent pay jump. Plus no way could she get six weeks off before another year passed, even then two of those would be sans pay, which had to be covered too.
Her eyes roamed the small flat with its tatty old furniture and second hand appliances. Functional, but hardly stylish, much like a Uni students flat might look she guessed. Except she didn't share with four others that stole your yoghurt or left empty shampoo bottles in the shower basket and pizza boxes in the oven, plus she was at thirty-two a bit older than your average Uni student. Still she didn't need much and there was no one to entertain, it wasn't as though she was out partying every week or bringing guys home. A snort of wry humour broke the silence at the thought of what some guy might say when he tried it on, if he was polite. Other options were less amusing.
She went to run her hands back through her shoulder length hair and stopped as she realised her nails were filthy and the rest of her wasn't much better. Smudges of dirt on her clothes, the old grey jogging pants and faded navy Lonsdale T had seen better days but were perfect for cleaning or just slobbing about on the weekend. Ok Trace, a good long shower then some light dinner. You girl, are a bloody mess, Christ no wonder they all think you're a damn lesbian. She couldn't have stopped the out loud laugh at that if she'd wanted to.
Twenty minutes later dressed in a similar outfit of track pants and T she rubbed the towel gently back and forth over her head to semi dry her hair, then draped it around her neck to catch drips as she scooped the dirty stuff of earlier into the plastic bucket with a few other bits. Good thing it was fairly warm July. Winter? What winter? Swung the front door open and leaving it ajar wandered barefoot down the short hall to the laundry, ack the concrete floor was damn cold, as she began to hop jump forward to where her old Hoover washer dryer stack, the cords into the locked power point box for number 6, sat in the corner next to the others top loaders.
Ah, you can choose your friends but not your family. What about the neighbours then, miscellaneous human oddities in this little societal billabong, she smiled wryly. Four flats to a floor, two floors with the laundries in the back corner and a garage for each downstairs, four front to the street and four out back where hers was. A little tight to get into, not that she had a problem, but safer. What with old Mrs Bromovitch keeping an eye out downstairs, nobody moved in this block without her knowing.
Her thoughts wandered over the last few years in the life of Tracy Neilson, the person formally known as Trevor. Sad bastard Trevor, Tracy might be a bit rough around the edges and a little antisocial, but nice enough and a definite improvement on that sad bugger… at least she hoped so. She'd stumbled about for half a dozen years after leaving school. Tried a couple of relationships that had bombed, one of them spectacularly. So six years ago she'd bitten the bullet and talked to Doctors and Psychiatrists and here we are. Living and doing okay as a full-time girl type at the grand old age of thirty-two.
2.
The job had been a blessing. She'd signed on as a Temp with one of the placement agencies and done the requested short course on Office Management, which surprisingly didn't contain anything on making coffee or arse kissing. Still after an investment of two hundred she'd had her evaluation on file and had gotten a few gigs here and there, anything from a few days to one lasting three months. Then one of the places she'd worked for early on had rung on her mobile and offered her a full time thing as an office backup come assistant in the sales section of an IT company. The people were okay and the hours good, plus it was steady. The girl she'd filled in for before had split suddenly after coming back from hols, so they needed someone and Tracy had apparently fit in okay when she was there.
Six months later Sandra, the other half of the office team and nominally Tracy's boss had finally gotten pregnant after trying for three years. Her and hubby Tom had been doing IVF and after a lot of stress and heartache had got lucky. So she was leaving to make sure all was well and then play Mum. The two of them were over the moon and would make great parents. With Sandy's recommendation and the Sales team heads approval Tracy had got the nod to step up.
Now suddenly she had her own offsider, earnt nearly forty grand a year and was part of the team. Everyone knew who and what she was and after some few little spats all had been well. She was mostly just Tracy now, that really tall chick that ran the office and wouldn't take shit from smartarse salesmen, or woman. Even the couple of guys that almost jokingly called her, a hairy armpit man-hating dyke, did acknowledge she kept everything running and made their jobs easier. She'd laughed and promised to use her Epilady on their armpits if they fell short of target. So far she hadn't needed to, besides she doubted she could handle the shrieks, even with earplugs. Men were ever so protective of their precious masculinity, or the ideology of it anyway. She'd offered to lend what she had left if they needed it, which had got everyone laughing except the two guys in question. They hadn't quite known what to say.
Damn Trace old girl, you do wander off into strange fields mentally don't you ya daft bitch. Must be tired so forget dinner, off ta bed and a nice ride on the new baby in the mornin'.
She woke at seven and rolling to her side appraised the day through the gap at the edge of the bedroom curtain, which in July looked a little cool but clear and fine. Should fix that damn curtain before you start getting woken at five when summer rolls around, you've only got a few months. With a snort at procrastination she headed for the stove turned the griller on and split a muffin to toast. Flipped the switch on the jug and tossed the necessary in a cup for coffee.
Sipping and chewing on a marmaladed muffin half she contemplated clothes. Stripped off with a small shiver at the chill and whipped on a crop top and briefs. Hmm, cool, so regular jeans are out…ok then, the leather bitch rides. Another snort of laughter as she pulled on the tight black leather pants then a close fitting cotton cami followed by a long-sleeved T in grey with Ducati in black across her modest bust. Some thick hiking socks and her riding boots with the grippy soles and lastly the slim fit black jacket with small silver reflective flashes here and there. She slipped her phone and wallet into the jacket pockets and clumped back to the kitchen draining her cup as she went, grabbed the small nylon pack with her house keys, 'pocket' street directory, makeup pouch with hair brush, a litre water bottle and a polar-fleece vest, stuck the second muffin half between her teeth and headed out the door.
Squeaking as it always did the garage door swung up to reveal her baby sitting expectantly and looking gorgeous. A Monster, she'd wanted one for ages, since she'd learnt to ride really and when the twenty year old Yammy 350 had finally carked it and gone to a wrecker… well. She'd spent three months searching and suffering public transport, until finally last week, there it was.
An '03 620s ie, immaculate it said. She'd looked it over carefully and there were no dings or scratches and it sounded and rode well. So Friday night she'd forked over and ridden home. The twenty year old Lebanese guy was buying a 1000 Testastretta which was way more bike than she'd ever need, probably more than he needed too, but there ya go.
Chewing and swallowing the last of her muffin she patted the tulip yellow tank, stuck in the key and turned. The soft roar made her shiver as it settled to a modest burble. She strapped the bag to the back of the seat and stepped over to her shelf for her helmet and gloves. The only furniture in her garage was a little old bookshelf she'd got for five bucks in a garage sale, apparently came with the old Encyclopaedia Britannica when they came as a bunch of books, she wasn't sure if they even existed anymore.
Finger combed her hair, pulled on the helmet and tightened the strap. Gloves and then straddling her baby, kicked up the stand and backed her out in to the courtyard. Pushed the stand down again and stepped across to pull down the door.
Old Mr Somerville from her floor was sitting with Mrs Ogden from downstairs at the table near the clothes lines and both raised their tea cups to her in toast. Hmmm, eight in the morning so it probably is tea. She wasn't sure she'd ever seen either of these two sober, so even this early it could be the wine they spent their days with. Still, both were friendly and they smiled now as she waved to the toast. A sudden feeling made her glance up to see Mrs Bromovitch looking down at her through her lounge room window and nodding slightly in acknowledgement. Hah, that old woman is a better security system than the CIA could install. Wonder if she ever sleeps.
As she re-straddled the bike her thoughts took a fanciful turn, hmm, you need a name girl, how about Lucy? Lucy the Duke. Sounds good I think, so that alright with you? She laughed out loud straddled the bike again and tweaked the throttle. Hah, mad bitch, talking to a motorcycle. With a smile she flipped the stand again, squeezed the clutch, which felt a little stiff and burble rolled out to the street.
Ok Lucy girl, let's you 'n me ride eh.
3.
Saturday morning traffic was its usual bloody shambles with everybody and their dog out doing whatever it was. So it was stop start and close watching with bursts of free flow as she headed out toward Dural. Once past the shops there the traffic thinned as she headed for the Ferry. Picked up the pace a bit and smiled as Lucy pulled smoothly, the twists and turns of the old road should be fun.
As she shifted up and down a gradual stiffness began to creep in and by the time she was cruising through Cattai to Sth Maroota shifting was becoming tough. There was a garage up ahead she remembered, just off the main road. Hope someone there knows something about bikes.
She pulled in near the old shed with tractors and trucks and assorted machinery everywhere as an old Blue Cattle dog woofed listlessly at her. A thirty something guy in filthy overalls strolled out from inside wiping his hands on a cloth as she shut off the bike and pulled her helmet.
"Hey there love. What can I do for ya?"
"I'm having trouble shifting and wondered if you might have some idea."
"Shit, bikes aint really my thing ya know. Give me a truck or a car and I'll sort you out." He shrugged slightly apologetically. "Still I know someone that can. You heading for the Ferry?"
"Yes."
The guy squinted and waved his right hand, index finger extended, as though following lines on a map.
"Ok, just head on down till you hit the Sackville road to the left and turn instead of heading for Wisemans. Head about two K till it splits to the left into Pages Wharf. About another K up on yer right you'll find Phil's place. Ya can't miss it I assure you. Up the drive, swing to the shed on the left and toot. He's home 'cause he was in a few hours back and he's working on some old bike of his. He'll sort you."
"Ah, okay thanks. You sure he won't mind some stranger just wandering in?"
"Nah, not Phil, 'e's a gent and he loves bikes and knows 'em backwards. All that two wheeled foreign stuff's not my thing, give me a Toyota any day. But Phil, yeah, no worries."
"Ok, thanks I'll give him a try. It's new and I don't want to damage anything." She smiled at him and he nodded and waved as he turned back inside. She checked the time on her phone, a little after ten. Ok then Lucy, let's go see Mr Phil and hope he can fix what ails you.
The directions were simple to follow and even accurate. Just as the guy had said you couldn't miss the place. A slightly rutted gravel and clay driveway up a small incline. The gate was chained open and marked with the rusted bars, tank and front wheel of what looked like an old forties military bike hanging on the split rail fence.
She pulled to the left in front of the big open shed that appeared to hold maybe half a dozen bikes in various stages of disassemble. She shut off and pulled her helmet before tooting twice gently. As she swung away from the bike a tall slim guy with shaggy, slightly longish dark-brown hair headed her way wiping, polishing maybe, something as his hands moved steadily back and forth. The smile slipped from his face as he spotted her and he scowled as he approached.
"I thought I told you fuckin' bitches to piss off and not bother me again. I don't want you or any of your mob around and that goes double for that selfish cow I used to be married to. Go practice your man-hating bullshit some place else, I sure as hell won't play that game anymore." He stopped suddenly and looked this woman up and down slowly, then looked at the bike as his expression changed to one of embarrassment.
"Ah shit, you haven't got a blind clue what I'm on about have you? And that's a little Duck, they all have damn Harleys or at a pinch a look-alike. Christ, sorry about that, old wounds and ongoing battles. What do you need?"
"Um, I'm sorry but… the guy back at the garage in Maroota said you might be able to help. It's…." She faltered, not quite sure about this at all.
"Look, it's Phil; and I am sorry, I don't normally yell at new customers. At least not till they give me reason to." His rueful grin disarmed her and she relaxed a little and hoped he could help.
"Well I just bought this and it was fine until about twenty klicks back when the clutch started to get really stiff and changing was tough. Plus there's a very slight rattle from the engine that wasn't there before. Like I said I just bought it and…" her voice trailed off as thoughts of being ripped off and her new baby costing her a small fortune to get fixed blundered in and sat like a cane toad. Tears welled and she sniffed and stretched, blinking to stop from crying in front of this guy.
"Hey, don't worry, it's probably not anything drastic just start it up and let me have a listen."
His hands were still turning back and forth with whatever it was as she twisted the key. He cocked his head a little to the side and squinted as he mimed for her to twist the throttle a little. As she did he crouched and held his hand down near the engine and asked her to pull the clutch a few times.
"Okay shut it off." He wiped his hand on the cloth that he'd been polishing a metal part with as she twisted the key to return silence. He stood and looked her in the eye, "Time I had a break. You fancy a cuppa? Come on inside and we'll talk."
He led the way to the back of the large shed, passing a slightly cluttered desk with an old Compaq laptop and a little Canon printer on the wall where a bunch of certificates and photos going back some years by the look, she paused to glance over some of them. The first showed Phil standing cross-armed and unhappy looking in a racetrack workshop. Another showed him arm around the shoulder of a guy in leathers holding a trophy. Another of him drenched to the skin as someone in leathers sprayed him from a bottle of Champagne. Another one showing a van, Evans Motor Cycle Works in fancy script on the side.
He shrugged as she turned toward him and waved her to a room about two by four metres, a tied back curtain partly masking a shower, bench and basin at one end visible and a table with three old metal legged kitchen chairs, two at the side and one on the end at the front. A stainless single kitchen sink jutted from the wall and a bar fridge sat next to the table with a tray on top holding an electric jug, a jar of coffee, one of sugar and another full of tea bags.
"Help yourself to tea or coffee, milks in the fridge and there's a loo through there if you need it." He waved at a door next to the shower. "I just need to make a call and I'll be with you in a sec."
Funny how someone mentioning the loo could cause a sudden feeling of need, so she ducked underneath the curtain and stepped into it, closed the door as she unbuttoned, then shimmied side to side for several seconds to get the tight pants down far enough to sit. Let go a small stream, wiped, restored herself, damn… no mirror, oh well, used the basin and headed back through the door and curtain looking for a hand towel. Phil came in just as she emerged and clicked on the jug.
"So, fancy tea or coffee? I'm usually coffee, but tea in the evenings or when it's hot."
"Um, coffee, please, one sugar and a splash." As she wiped her hands on a not over clean tea towel hanging on the rail.
He busied himself for a moment spooning, pouring and stirring then passed her a cup that was clean and waved her to sit as he did at the end chair.
"Okay, I want to say sorry again. I saw you there and just assumed you were another of my exes new mates that fancied some free bike work… anyway…. You just bought this you said…." as she nodded.. " It's the S version isn't it? Alloy arm and a little taller than standard I think…" as she nodded again…. "Okay, you have a pinhole leak down at the base of the clutch line near the banjo joint, it's hydraulic and is spraying out under pressure, a while longer you wouldn't be able to shift and might have damaged things trying. The other thing I was listening too is the valve noise. These Ducati's need to be adjusted regularly or you get trouble and I suspect your previous owner was a little lax. It can be a bit expensive as it takes time but it has to be done."
"Shit. Um. Okay, so what do I do? I did know about the valves and he assured me everything was up to date. There's no damage is there…I hope?"
"Well honestly I can't be sure 'till I look, but I think things are just a little loose and needing a reset. That line needs replacing and then a bleed and adjust. All up you're looking at six hours work plus a few parts. That call I just made was to a mate runs a shop on the Central Coast, he has the bits, so I can get them later. But right now I need to get the forks and wheel back on that Triumph there. The guys coming to get it in a bit over an hour so I can't touch yours 'till after that, then I need to go get the parts and that's a two hour round trip. I'd lend you the Ute but it's out of rego and the only bike running is mine and no one rides that… sorry, you're here for a few hours."
"Oh well, there go's my nice leisurely ride to christen Lucy here. So how much am I looking at, parts and your time, I don't have a lot of cash on me?"
He grinned a little crookedly," Well I was a rude bastard before and that's really not who I am, so I figure I owe you one by way of apology. I'll get this one done then we'll double up on my bike to go get the parts, you pay… um, clutch line and bleeder valve is about ninety five and I'll sort it out from there. Should be done by about eight… so… then you, out of the goodness of your heart and a kind and generous nature, buy me dinner and a beer down the pub and we'll… well I'll, make sure all is well and we call it even…." He shrugged slightly and looked a bit uncomfortable.
He wasn't the only one.
4.
Damn, I think this guy is coming on to me and even if I think he is a decent sort and not bad looking, ignoring all the …'my ex is a bitch and in league with the devil'… stuff. Christ Trace… what the fuck do you do here? You girl are seriously lacking in flirty basics… shit a twelve year old could teach you stuff, assuming they could stop laughing long enough.
"Ah, look Phil… I really appreciate you helping me out but I really don't want you going to any trouble. Let me just pay you for your time…" Damn, the guy's eyes just shut down, as though he'd been knocked out. Why? Why the hell would this regular guy even think of going out with a… well, a girl like me?
"Yeah, ok… fair enough. I was rude earlier. I'm sorry. I'll fix your clutch line and you'll be gone by three. Do get those valves sorted soon though huh. If you don't it will cost you hundreds more for shims and time." He looked at her as though thinking of saying something else, but shook his head slightly and turned away.
"Look, I'm sorry I need to finish this other bike so… Sorry I didn't get your name…."
"Tracy, Tracy Nielson."
"Well Tracy Nielson, I need to finish that Triumph, then I'll go get your parts. You can sit in the house and watch telly or read or whatever and I'll let you know. You know…" he paused, seemingly debating with himself…"I admire you, I really do. It must take more guts than I can understand to do what you're doing. Shit… that sounds so fucking patronising…. " He sighed as he shook his head and stood, turning…" I'll go back to the damn bikes and do what I do. Mechanical things I understand…."
She sat, totally unable to move for several seconds as his words echoed in her head. In the background she heard the sounds of metal pieces being moved and tightened. Spanners tinking and a soft grunt here and there.
For no reason she could understand tears began to flow. She pictured him as he'd first appeared emerging from the shadow of the shed. Tall… about her height she guessed. Lean and supple, the old khaki work pants fitting neatly to a trim waist. The faded flannelette shirt, sleeves partly rolled over an almost grey, white t-shirt. His hands moving back and forth as he wiped whatever it was. Face with an almost smile and an air of sorrow before she saw the soft brown eyes. The dark brown hair, obviously finger combed, flashes of grey here and there as it licked and caught at the shirt collar. She felt her own smile start, as his had changed to a snarl as anger bit.
She stood and picked up the cup he'd left on the table, took it and hers to the sink and rinsed and wiped. Sat them upside down on the tray next to the jug.
With her hands gripping the edge of the small sink, she stood motionless, her gaze inward as tears ran down her face.
Damn you Phil whoever the hell you are. What are you doing? What the hell am I doing feeling bad about rejecting you if that's what the hell I just did. Oh…God. I'm not even a real girl and he bloody knows it, so what does he want? Is he one of those pathetic tranny chasing nutjobs, or just some peace and goodwill New Age wanker? Oh shit Tracy, you actually do, you want to go out with this bastard… don't you, you crazy fucked up bitch?
Wiping her eyes she stared for a few seconds into the small square mirror tile stuck to the wall. Turned and headed out to where he was stuffing some springs and washers into metal tubes. It was several seconds before he stopped and looked at her.
His soft, brown eyed gaze made her feel… what? Unsure? Oh come on girl, get a grip.
"Phil, um, sorry I don't know your last name but that was rude of me. I was too trusting and simply fell in love with Lucy out there, so maybe I got taken a little. I would be really grateful if you would fix the clutch cable, line… whatever and whatever else needs doing to get her running as smooth and easy as she can. I… um, I don't take unexpected kindnesses easily. Just a prideful stubborn bitch I guess. So I'd be really grateful if you… can I, um…. help with anything?"
His half smile caused a small flutter in her stomach and she was fairly sure her eyes rolled backwards into her head like some sort of poker machine lemons on a dud pull.
"Uh… thanks Tracy. I'm pretty right with this and another body would get in the way more than anything… but… If you'd like you could grab some gloves and pull those other two carb bodies out of that tin where they're soaking and buff them up with those old towels there." He nodded to a bench at the back where a tubular alloy thing was sitting on a piece of towel.
That's what he was wiping when I arrived.
"Yeah ok I can do that. What are they?"
His gaze flicked to an old bike on a stand, parts sitting around it, two chrome spoke wheels leaning against the bench nearby and a dull red tank with a silver white flash across it with a Triumph badge on the side she could see.
"That's a '70 Trident I'm restoring bit by bit, you'd save me some time if you'd give those two remaining carb bodies a good scrub up. Amals, that's the carbs on those old Brit things. Pretty wild bike in the day. The gloves are in that box on the bench and thanks. Oh, it's Evans."
She rolled her eyes, well you did ask Tracy girl. "Amals, Trident… um, right, absolutely Mr Evans." She tried to hold a straight face. Phil glanced up and actually blushed and mouthed sorry as he shook his head slightly.
She smiled and turned to pull some latex gloves and then lift the two tubular bodies from what smelt like kerosene, let them drip for a few seconds before wrapping them in pieces of towel and setting one down and taking the other up began to rub it clean and dry. Jesus Christ girl. What the HELL are you doing?!! Her thoughts wandered as did her eyes, often straying to Phil as he worked. Watching the movement of shoulder and arm, So what are you thinking about then Phil? After a time she decided that this one was about as clean as it would get and put it beside its brother to begin on the third as she gazed into space.
She jumped as a bike started with a throaty roar and she turned slightly to see Phil flick the metallic grassy green bike he'd been working on, now complete again, up onto it's rear wheel and spin it around to face the door, drop it down and jump on in one fluid motion as he accelerated out, jumping it off the concrete floor to the ground nearly a metre lower, bent elbows and knees taking the jolt of landing, then grabbing the front brake lifted the back wheel into the air and while balanced spun it back toward her, dropped the rear down and twisted the throttle to spin the rear wheel in a circle, shoot across the front yard and then slow to turn back in a gentle loop and stop near the steps before shutting it off.
He grinned at her surprised stare, "Yeah I reckon he'll be happy with that, all balanced and the vibration gone I think."
"That… was amazing."
"Ah, well… that was me showing off, bloody childish really." He looked slightly sheepish.
Showing off… for me? Oh boy. Well Trace, now what? " Naughty boy, still, pretty impressive. I considered one of those but a little exey new. That bug eye look sort of grows on you."
He shrugged and looked away, "Yeah these are pretty nice. He loves it but had a few little complaints. Some vibration up through the fork and handle bars and a too quick change between gears when highway cruising. So I fit and balanced new shocks, finished the rear yesterday, some rubber bushes on the bars and two new sprockets to give a wider reach in the gears… all done. Come on, let's go in the house and wash up a bit, Craig'll be along soon to get this and then we'll go get your stuff."
5.
Grabbing her little pack from the back of her bike she followed him into the little plank built house, almost a kit cottage by the look a take off of the old drovers homesteads of the 1800's. A shaded veranda along the front held by poles. The left of centre door opening to an open plan living dining room, with a modest kitchen to the left. She glanced around to her right, a plain but simple living room with a medium size flat-screen on a sideboard and the lounge dividing the room slightly, a couple of cushions scrunched at one end where its owner obviously stretched out to watch. A small side-table held an empty plate and two remote controls. To her left a round pine table with three chairs sat at the front end of the kitchen, the fourth chair against the wall, piled with magazines. The kitchen looked clean but used. Ahead was a short hallway where presumably bathroom and bedroom or rooms would be.
"Here ya go, chateau Evans, such as it is. Bathrooms down the end there on your left, go ahead I just want to set the recorder for while we're out."
With a smile and a nod she headed to the small but neat bathroom and winced at her helmet hair reflected back at her. Pulled the emergency kit and did minimal facial repairs and a brush up to look semi human. Leaving the bathroom she almost walked into Phil coming out the first of two doors carrying a leather jacket and a dark red helmet. With a smile he waved her ahead and followed. Draped the jacket over one of the pine chairs set the helmet on the table and headed back to the bathroom.
As the tap ran up the back she wandered about. An old solid floor mounted gas stove against the back wall looked well used. Along the wall divider was a wall unit with crockery, pots and pans stacked and hanging. A single plate and cup sat in the sink under the window on the left wall. Glancing out she could see two tall gas tanks strapped against the wall; well you wouldn't get mains out here would you. Compact but neat Phil, not much for decoration though are you?
She turned back as footsteps headed her way and smiled as Phil came into view slicking back his damp hair with both hands. His eyes twinkled at her as she looked him up and down and blushed. Just then a bike roared up and stopped outside the motor still running. She followed him out and saw him give the thumbs up to a guy standing in the yard who in turn nodded to the guy on the bike who took off and disappeared.
"Just give me a minute to get Craig here sorted eh." She watched as he chatted to the guy for a minute and as he, Craig, she guessed whooshed around the yard a couple of times, lifting the front wheel at a twitch of the throttle. Then a card was passed an invoice printed, folded and pocketed.
As they headed to the bike Craig glanced her way and winked as he spoke over his shoulder, "About fuckin' time ya dozy prick. You've been mopin' about like some kid after a spankin'. Bloody boring after a while." Then with another wink to her, "Give 'im a good shake love and if he starts on about that bitch of an ex give 'im a slap. You look like ya can 'andle 'im. Good on yer both. Don't fuck it up sunshine."
Phil looked a little bemused and she wasn't sure what to say, so didn't and just smiled slightly.
"Give me a bell if you have any trouble eh." Phil looked a little embarrassed. With a vigorous handshake Craig donned his helmet, revved loudly a couple of times, nodded and with a wave took off.
She headed back inside as Phil followed.
"Um… sorry about Craig, I guess he saw you on the veranda and jumped to conclusions."
"That's okay, not a problem."
"So Tracy Nielson, shall we go get these bits to get your little Ducky singing again. Can't have you getting upset and thinking she's not good. All will be well, trust old Phil."
"Ah you're not that old, only a few on me I'd bet."
"Forty two actually and you'd be about thirty I'd guess, so a few up."
"Ten years, so a man of experience…. " This time she blushed to her toes and put her hands over her eyes so she couldn't see him and whispered, " Oh God Tracy, brain in gear please, um that's not…oh…." as she fell silent and uncovered her eyes to see him grinning silently and groaned softly.
"Hey, don't knock experience girl, I could teach you a few tricks. " This time he laughed a short bark. "Come on, let's go." He bowed elaborately and as his arm swung back up pulled the jacket from the chair and swung it over his shoulders and shrugged into it. Scooped up his helmet as she still blushing headed out the door, which he pulled closed behind him. She strapped her backpack to her bike as he took the bars and wheeled it up into the shed, pulled a big concertina door along the front and twisted the lock to bolt it top and bottom. Then pulled a drop sheet off what she guessed was his bike. It looked like an escapee from a racetrack. Dark red, all fairings, matt black and soft silver, a Honda badge on the tank.
As she gazed mutely he patted the stainless high sitting exhaust, "See, we share a preference for high pipes, Staintunes. They work and are much better looking don't you agree?"
She nodded silently; they did look better, she thought and was glad hers were similar.
"Oh and before you ask it's a '98 VFR800, one of the best road bikes. Big enough to fly and actually reach the gears… well occasionally." Grinning widely he pushed forward to flip up the stand and rolled the bike down the short ramp and kicked it down again as she followed. He headed back in, grabbing his helmet and pulled the door closed behind him as she stooped to pick up hers.
With a twist of a key the big red bike started up with a sound, somewhere between a powerful bike and a small jet turbine. Damn girl this is gonna be some ride.
Twisting the throttle a couple of times the bike roared and whined, itching to attack something perhaps.
"Come on jump on. You'll enjoy this I hope."
"Um, I've never been behind anyone before… never doubled."
He laughed and put on a rough accent, "Shoot bitch, that's whut you gals is fer, decoration and party'un." He patted the seat, "Come on, jump on and wrap your arms around, it'll be good. Just flow with my body, you know how to ride so you'll be fine. There's a grab rail back of the seat if you can't handle handling me, but it's smoother if you will."
Shit Tracy, get a grip… so to speak. You might learn something. With a nod she climbed on and adjusted her helmet as Phil did likewise. He took it easy as she settled in behind him and linked her fingers across his stomach. Down the driveway and out onto the road as he accelerated smoothly and then she just followed, letting his body lead. The fifty-five minute journey down across the ferry, along and up through Mangrove Mountain and over to Berkeley Vale to the shop was an amazing experience. Probably the closest you could get to being in a jet fighter without leaving the ground. He was smooth as silk, fast and fluid. She paid for the parts $95 plus tax, he tucked them in the seat pocket and then they both climbed on and… headed back home.
This time she was more relaxed and became conscious of the heat, the leather and musk and earth smell of the man she was pressed against. He slowed as she suddenly pulled back from him as with a sigh to herself she again pressed against his back. Just relax Tracy girl and go with the flow, just go with the flow. With the feel of her again settled Phil resumed the pace of the ride.
Grinning ear to ear she bounced off the bike as he shut off at the ramp. Pulled off her helmet and shook her hair out, the self-consciousness of earlier temporarily forgotten.
"Wow Phil, that was wild. I'm not good enough but I can see why people want bikes like this. You… ah didn't break the law there anywhere did you?"
"Who me? Well, maybe once or twice… a little. The ol' gal sure is fun to ride. Right, let's get yours together then shall we." With a pat to the red tank he jumped off, retrieved the parts from the small 'luggage compartment' walked up the ramp to open the door and pushed the concertina partly open.
"Okay girl, pull up a stool and learn at the feet of a master, just after three, so let's be done by eight. You owe me dinner."
She watched as he undid, refit, bled and adjusted the clutch line, which took a whole forty-five minutes. "Ok girl, make yourself useful, coffee white and one please, this is gonna take a while longer."
With a slight shake of the head and a soft smile she did as requested and watched, asking questions and listening as he explained what he was doing. He lifted and loosened and measured and adjusted and measured and swore and chatted and after four hours and twenty minutes pronounced it done. He flicked on the floodlights to light up the yard and suggested she give it a quick test. Once round the yard and it seemed good, the clutch was smooth and the clatter in the engine was gone and it seemed to pull a little more power. Hard to tell in first gear, but still, she grinned.
"Right then girly, let me wash my hands and then follow me. The ride down will tell us if we've got it. Bring your money with you, I'm bloody starving."
With a laugh she shook her head, "Nah you blew it, it's after eight. So the deals off."
With a bark of laughter he muttered, "cheapskate bloody bitch" as he headed for the small bathroom. He was back a few minutes later, shaking his hands dry. Flicked off one of the lights, pulled the doors shut and nodded as she started up. It was dark and cool as they wound their way down to the pub.
6.
She was grinning widely as she pulled up a few seconds behind Phil and pulled her helmet as he did likewise.
"I gather from your grin she's running just fine again?"
"Better than when I bought her, smoother and more pickup. Nothing outrageous, but there all the same. Seriously, thank you, a pub dinner is hardly fair payment for your work."
"True." He nodded sagely and grinned at her, "But then it beats sitting home and watching bike races like I planned. The company's better here."
Blushing slightly she lead the way in and they grabbed a table on the veranda. It was shielded by heavy plastic curtains and had one of those gas heater things on a stand near the door that warmed up the area nicely.
"Okay Phil, my treat, you mind the table and I'll get us a drink. What do you fancy?"
"Um, a Coopers Light thanks. " She nodded and headed to the bar, got Phil's beer and a glass in case he wanted one and a glass of soft red for herself.
Once seated they both became a little self-conscious and the conversation dried up until she prompted him about his bikes and what he was working on.
A couple of old Honda's with carby problems, a Kawasaki Ninja that wanted extra go fast bits, as if 300k wasn't enough and a fairly new Harley Sportster needing a new ignition control unit.
"Thought you didn't like Harleys."
He squinted to think and actually blushed a little, "No, I've got no problems with Harleys. Might not be my first choice, but they do make some nice bikes. That… ah, bit I said earlier was more about how certain people latch onto all the bullshit that goes with bikes and Harleys in particular. Outlaw macho crap and women can be just as bad." He sat for a minute pondering.
"The reason I reacted when I saw you was I thought you were another of the dike bitches she… my ex, hooked up with. I like women and I don't care who anyone sleeps with, but this bunch are just… well they're as bad as the outlaw boys with an added anti-male edge. We were married six years when she decided to ride off with one of 'the girls'. Of course she has to take our life savings with her. Lost my business and just kept this place, that was six years ago. Now I do work like you see and I'm okay. But every now and then one of them would roll up and expect free bike work and generally behave like I was scum. I did it a few times for God knows what reason; maybe to try and show her I was a cool guy. I actually heard her laughing about it after I'd fixed one of her mates' bikes one time. I fronted the two of them and told them to piss off and never come back. That was a few years ago and I get on and do what I do. When I saw you standing there… well, I reacted to the memory. Don't get many women coming up here." He shrugged and shuffled a little on his chair with a rueful smile as he gazed at her to see…
"Wow, that must have been hard to take, I mean… Well most guys would take it pretty bad if their girl took off with another woman, I'm sorry that happened."
"Oh, don't misunderstand, I took it badly enough. Was one cranky miserable bastard for a year or so, maybe still am if Craig's to be listened to, which he usually is. But hey, I got it sort of together after a while, well…. sort of. I loved the stupid bitch, whatever that means. Thought she loved me too… Some act…." He gazed into space for a moment before physically shaking himself and turning his soft gaze back to her.
"So what about you then Tracy Nielson. How do you come to be… ah, you? Sorry, don't answer if that's getting too personal. "
Ooh boy Phil, how do I answer that one? Still, it will almost always come up sometime
"Well, not an easy thing Phil; suffice to say I never quite felt in synch, never felt I belonged. Eventually with some help I figured that out… and well, here I am."
He nodded silently and sipped his beer while she sipped the red and tried to figure out what he was thinking.
"So my mechanical saviour, what do you fancy eating then, shall we go check the menu?"
"No need, I'll go the Salmon cutlet and a plate of wedges with the Italian salad side. Oh and another beer please."
Smiling she nodded, "Sounds good, I'll go the same I think, unless I see something more inspiring. Okay, back in a minute."
She wandered across and perused the menu on the wall, pondered a pasta dish or the marinated chicken, but decided to go with Phil and the Atlantic salmon. Placed the order and got a little beeper thing to signal when it was ready, then headed for the bar to get his beer. She didn't need another, besides the wine being three times the alcohol of his the glass was huge, almost a fishbowl. He smiled and nodded thanks as she sat, sliding his beer across to him.
They sat in easy silence for a while and then just started talking about all sorts. Easily and pleasantly as each got a rough outline of the others life and times and she got a business card with his number, as opposed to just the shed number, on the back. She in turn gave him hers and where she worked, well just in case she had bike trouble or something.
The meal was nice and they chatted easily as they ate. She couldn't face it but Phil had dessert, a ginger sponge pudding with ice cream and custard, she did have a taste and it was lovely.
Finally they were outside in the cold night air standing there neither knowing what to say. On impulse she stepped in and hugged him tight with a soft thank you and a kiss on the cheek. His reaction startled her as he stiffened and pulled away sharply.
Momentarily surprised she just stood there for a second as he with his back to her looked away toward the barely visible cliff face across the river. As tears threatened she pulled on her helmet, made sure her little bag was secure started and with a last look his way, pulled out and rode away without a word.
It was almost midnight when she made it home and was sort of proud she hadn't cried.
7.
She was on the phone when the courier came to the door and Marie with a big grin on her face pointed him at her. Flowers, a big bunch of roses and tulips and lilacs and that wispy white wedding stuff, all in an actual vase and a card stuck in the middle. He put them down on the end of her desk with a grin and a wink walked out whistling, 'best part a' the job'. Stunned and absolutely flustered she hung up mid conversation, got up and paced for a second or two and then bolted. Walking as quickly as she could with tears running down her face. Just walking with no idea of destination or rational thought to her actions. It was two blocks before she was clear enough to take a deep breath and get her bearings to head back.
After almost twenty minutes she made it back to a concerned and more than a little flustered Marie.
"Are you ok Tracy? You scared me running out like that and I didn't know whether to read the card to find out I don't know what…um. Come on sit, I'll make us a cuppa. Strong coffee I reckon. "
"Um, yes thanks Marie and coffee would be great. Sorry for that, but…I don't know, I've never got flowers before. That and the reason for them just hit me. Childish huh."
"You've never…um, oh I guess you… I guess I forget you really haven't been, um… "
"Hey it's ok. No I never."
"So you know who then, that's a start. Ooh, it's ever so romantic the big fight and then the flower bit to make up, with a card and all. So go on, tell…" Seeing the blush and almost panic come into Tracy's eyes…" Hey, go on then read the card and sit and think. He can't be all bad…Oh, it is a he?" She blushed herself and turned to answer a ringing phone as Tracy laughed and nodded.
While Marie chatted animatedly on the phone a metre or two away she tried to get her heart rate under control as the card sat like some emotional ticking bomb in the centre of the, she had to admit, gorgeous arrangement. After a good couple of minutes, as her anxiety increased, she reached a tentative hand and plucked the pale pink envelope and slid out the card inside. She had to smile at Charlie Chaplin in an old aviator's cap, but instead of leaning on his cane he was leaning on an old bike that had been stuck on carefully. Taking a deep breath she opened it….
Tracy, I hope this catches you and Lucy well. I tried to ring a few times but I hung up before it got connected and I decided to try and write it down instead. Chicken shit huh.
First, like I said the other night before I screwed up I admire your courage and honestly I don't see anything but a woman. I mean sure I can tell if I look close and yes it took me a few minutes to get my head around when I realised and we seemed to click and had a nice evening and then when you hugged me. I reacted the way I did in part because of who you are and yes what you are, but also because of my own fears. I realise I should have tried to explain myself but by the time I got my thoughts together you'd gone. Yes I flinched because my head said I was hugging a guy. Talk about your screwy mixed signals, but that only lasted a second. Mainly it was because since my wife left and the way it all went down I haven't been close to anyone. Almost six years and it was too much suddenly. Fear of what you and I being together meant then and there and what it might mean. So you see while it was in part a reaction to you which I sincerely apologise for it was also my own fears catching me suddenly. I hope you can forgive and perhaps understand the why of it. When I get the guts I'll call you and I hope we can talk and maybe meet up again.
Yours with humble things on top
Phil.
Damn, she had tears in her eyes…again. Marie was watching with concern and curiosity practically rolling off her. With a sigh she tried to think. Bloody typical girl, you find yourself in a nice situation and one small glitch and instantly it's all about you and you never gave a thought to maybe he had his own little psychodramas going on. Selfish cow.
8.
The weird buzz on the end of her desk pulled her back from her mental wanderings. Where'd that half hour go? She glanced at the number and her stomach rolled. Grabbing it she flipped it open before message bank got it and tried twice before she managed to get a hello out.
~~On a hot summers night would you offer yourself to the wolf with a red rose?~~
"Phil you mad bastard, you're misquoting Meatloaf at me?" She grinned at the phone.
~~Well hey, I'm forty two and that was hot shit when I was a kid, all the girls loved it…well the guys too if they had girls.~~
"Look… I got the card and the flowers. They're lovely really. Um, I maybe over-reacted a little and I didn't think about you at the time. So I guess we're both sorry. "
~~I am sorry for the way I reacted, truly. I know it must be a little hard for you at times and guys can be bastards. So…um, could we try and see… maybe go for a ride. Meet up and do dinner again? I like you and you seemed to like me, it's a start maybe~~
"Sure I'd like that, you can never have enough friends and who knows…"
~~Yeah, who knows, I'll give you a red rose if you let me give you a hickey~~
The snort of laughter made him laugh as well.
~~Good. Oh, wear those pants again huh, they're hot. And he will offer you his hunger~~
"You really are barmy aren't you and besides it's the middle of bloody winter, not some hot summer teenage night on a damn foggy beach. Yeah, I'll wear the pants you lech."
~~Hey, it's summer somewhere and those pants are hot. I'm glad we're good Tracy, really. I'll call you later, okay~~
"I'll give you a ring tonight when I get home, alright?"
~~Lovely, okay I'll talk to ya later. Thanks… and who knows eh~~
Smiling she heard the dial tone and realised he'd hung up. She glanced up to see Marie grinning at her and couldn't help but blush.
" Back to work ya nosy bitch." She laughed in her direction as Marie just grinned wider and pretended to be busy. "Hey where's that damn coffee I was promised a half hour ago?"
Her thoughts wandered again as laughing Marie got up to make coffee.
Ah Phil ya mad bugger. Who knows eh? Who ever bloody knows?
~~Fini~~
My thanks to Angela Rasch for her thoughts and showing me where, among
other things, I might tend to womble on a bit.
Thanks also to Dimelza Cassidy for her help with the bike stuff… and more
Any remaining bloopers are down to me.
A sudden jolt and the world shifts; though it may take time for that to sink in.
This is a work of adult fiction
No resemblance to reality should be inferred or expected.
Copyright KLS 2008.
Time Waits
By Kristina.L.S.
Damn, these renovations had been going on forever. Well okay, it was probably only eight months. Still after that long with Hessian shrouded lifts and the dodging of ladders as assorted tradesmen climbed into various structural orifices it certainly seemed like forever. Tape on windows, the ever-present smell of paint and the odd rumbling vibration as some concrete lump somewhere was reduced to rubble for whatever reason.
He had to be thankful that most of his company's work, at least as far as clients was concerned, was done externally at their place, or by phone, fax, email or personal sales calls. Prospective clients tended not to be too impressed by offices with plastic sheeting all over the floor and wires dangling everywhere you looked. The few times he had needed to use an office slash meeting place in the last several months he'd been forced to rent space for the afternoon in one of those executive suites nearby. Once he explained why it had gone quite smoothly.
It was a squat little four story building on the edge of the CBD, just outside the primo zone, slightly run down but perfect for his growing information business. As an ex journo Jack Martin knew about information and its value. He'd flirted with the idea of getting a PI licence but decided that was unnecessary. So here he was, about to bump into the big four oh and head of a team of thirty plus odd bods, from assorted journo school escapees to techno nerds and law school dropouts all doing their bit to make JM Information Services the place for resume checking, general backgrounds, corporate rumour eval's and good ol' muck raking, though he tried to keep that to a minimum. Sometimes it served a purpose and some muck did need raking.
He sighed as he sipped his cappuccino. No doubt the new owners would be bumping the rent once this lot was finished. Always a quid pro quo, at least it had been reduced by a third for the duration but would probably jump by half as and when. Everyone wanted their margin, way of the world. Ah well, he could probably afford it.
As ever he'd parked downstairs early, checked his messages, made a few notes where necessary and then wandered down the fire stairs and went for a walk to sort his head out. Same thing, day in day out, night and day, messing with his head like a musician with tinnitus.
Get it together Jack, time waits for no man. But you made a promise didn't you Jack? Yes you did. But then they're long gone Jack, five years it is and still… Yes, but, maybe…. Oh come off it Jack they're not coming back. She's not coming back.
As ever he'd grabbed his cappo from the cafe down the block and meandered back to the office his eyes and thoughts wandering, just another guy checking out the girls. As ever when caffeining he took the lift up the three floors to the top level where he was sole tenant.
One hundred and sixty square metres of open plan office, artfully broken up with potted plants, water coolers, coat racks and clusters of lockers. Everyone had their own locker, everything else was open. He reached for the button with his cup hand, index finger extended and pressed as he lent, left arm straight, palm flat against the wall.
Hmm, the Hessian's wet, painters with their buckets and what have you. Wish they'd be more careful.
"Morning Mr Martin"
"Good morning Sally. You look lovely as always and you're early. Hunting for a raise already?"
He winked at her as he strolled past and she smiled, shaking her head at his teasing.
Cute kid; eighteen, straight out of school and she'd just walked in the door a few months back with a one sheet resume and a 'can do' attitude. Offered to work her way up starting at reception or gopher or whatever. He'd smiled, asked her to try for a day with pay to evaluate and gave her the job on the spot and sent the temp home that afternoon with a bunch of flowers and a cash bonus.
It was just after eight and as expected there were only a few others in, sitting casually and sipping or chatting as they nodded or waved politely at his arrival. Most would roam in over the next couple of hours. As long as they did the job he wasn't too strict about time and there wasn't a dress code beyond clean. Consequently the clothing choices ranged from his own casual jeans and light jacket to Sally's junior business woman, with most ranging somewhere in the middle and a few opting for a post Uni grunge look.
As he crossed the floor the space between desks increased a little and his own sat in the far corner, slightly isolated but not closed in. The only rooms as such were the toilets and kitchen that adjoined the lift with the stairs coming up next on the western side. That was the front wall. There were two meeting, come conference rooms at the northern end stretching along the wall from the stairs. The juniors got clustered together in four desk huddles. The more senior and tricky jobs got more space and less cluster.
His desk clustered with a three seat lounge, two chairs and a small coffee table. Sort of looked like a department store display he thought with a smile. Well maybe the flowers he insisted on daily were a bit more than department store. But he liked a bit of colour and that was part of the morning walk. Pick from what was fresh and nice that morning and the arrangement was delivered in a fresh vase an hour or so later.
As he sat he glanced across the room to see Dave give the finger to the lift as he passed. Jenny and then Grace following him who mumbled something to Sally who in turn glanced his way.
Ah, something's up that needs a boss type. Let's go see eh. Might as well get another coffee, this one's gone cold.
He passed Dave with a nod, "Mornin' Dave."
"Hey boss, dumb lift's buggered."
He nodded and smiled.
Ah, boss type needs to fix broken lift
As he walked across he saw Marg press the buttons several times and then the doors opened, very slowly. It was good forty seconds before he got there and no further movement, the lift just sat.
"Huh, stupid lift."
He couldn't help but smile at the disgusted look on her face as Marg realised she'd have to walk down.
With a shrug he stepped in and pressed the down button as she stepped out. She started to say, "Don't bother, it's…."
Now, that, was weird, suddenly everything had gone white. A sudden nothing, except, well… light, seemingly for minutes and then everything snapped back to normal except…. it wasn't.
Marg was still standing exactly where she had been with that slightly annoyed crinkled brow look frozen in place.
And I mean frozen.
Sally was sat at her desk with a mixed look of surprise and fear on her face. She too was frozen.
Then there was a rush of sound like a TV, on way too loud, being flicked off mute at two in the morning.
A few small screams, maybe, "Oh god, what… , NO! Don't… Call…"
I could hear noise and movement but as I looked around everyone was frozen in place, nothing moved except…
A figure walked toward the lift casually weaving its way past the frozen people and smiling which seemed reassuring, I think. Funny it probably shouldn't matter but I couldn't tell, him or her? I mean I might question myself quietly and ponder things in passing and it shouldn't matter and yet it did. How could every clue that should say this or that… and even if you were wrong you had a basis to work with, but this time…. As I watched the figure smiled widely and then morphed very subtly into a very striking and well dressed businessman.
And then with an almost imperceptible shake of the head morphed again to become the female equivalent of who he had been a second before.
OK Jack so what the hell is going on here? You haven't smoked dope in years.
Looking around at the still frozen people that made up my business I looked again straight at the oncoming figure that was no longer oncoming. She'd stopped a pace away, smiling with her hands clasped lightly in front of her. She tilted her head a fraction and the sound rushed in again, though curiously I hadn't been aware of its going.
"…Is he… No there's… Come on, where… I can hear… Quickly….. "
"Two thousand volts Jack. A half second longer and it would not be just a small burn here and there. A slightly greater grip on the door frame and you would no longer be."
Her voice was smooth, a velvety chocolate like sound, something like the sexiest newsreader voice you'd ever heard saying she was your friend. A very slight crinkle at the corners of her eyes as her smile widened.
"Yes Jack, you nearly died. It would be a shame to never live as yourself would it not?"
Her smile stayed as she watched me process that idea and pull back at what it implied.
Her smile slipped ever so slightly and she shook her head a fraction. Her long wavy hair moved as though a breeze flowed past. Was it blonde or brunette or reddish or black or silver or…
"Ah Jack. Have you not understood it yet? Be yourself and you will be more true, a better you. You do have a chance here that most don't get and you might be surprised at just how many people see what you think is hidden. Why don't you take this chance Julie?"
Her smile stayed warm and friendly as the shock of that hit, then she simply was not there…
Damn, it's cold.
Movement …. Lights flashing overhead and a clattering as… a trolley?
"Hey Jim, I think he's with us. Come on Mr Martin sir, stay with us."
The slight Asian girl in a pale blue shirt smiled at me as she shoved while I guess Jim took the weight at the lower end. He seemed solid as we flowed down the stairs and a worried Sally held the street doors open as they pushed past and out to the open doors of an ambulance waiting half up on the curb lights flashing silently.
They kept me overnight to be sure and I was allowed to go home late the next afternoon. A bunch of bouquets with cards and one purple Teddy bear with a card from the gang at work. I kept one lovely bunch and the bear and the cards and asked if the rest could be given to anyone that needed a cheer up, which got a smile from the nurses. With thanks and a wave I left somewhat heavier of mind than I had entered.
Decision time Jack.
A condition of release was that I stay home and keep quiet for a couple of days, which I intended to do. Just a fair bit of quiet thinking.
I woke the next morning with the decision made and hunted a card that I had kept for several years. Not much hunting really, I knew exactly where it was.
Janice Steinway MB BS FRANZCP (Bachelor of Medicine, Bachelor of Science, Fellow of Royal Australian and New Zealand College of Psychiatrists)
"Yes good morning I would like to make an appointment… Jack Martin… no I haven't… yes, Monday at eleven would be fine…. thank you."
I hope you're as good as I've heard Doctor Janice. Haven't been this nervous since my first date. One more call
"Hi Sally…. Whoa slow down I'm okay, really. Yes I'll be back in tomorrow….. Yes tell everyone I'm grateful and I appreciate the flowers cards and the bear….. hey, I love the bear…. No crying, okay…. I'm fine, I'll be in as usual in the morning…. Yes, really I'm fine…. Okay, I'm going, but please could you make sure everyone is in tomorrow by ten, I need to make an announcement. No nothing major, just a slight change that should not affect anything but I need to do it….. What?…. You've only known me a few months, how…. Yes I guess I might be at that…. Bloody women… oh stop laughing… Don't you dare. No, definitely no pink ribbons…. Goo… goodbye Sally."
Hell, I guess more people knew than I figured, smartarse kid, not often I blush and smile like a fool at the same time
"Well Jack, times up. Julies turn."
Bloody nutter, talking to yourself and toasting invisible women with your coffee cup. Thanks, whoever, whatever and wherever you are. All in the mind Jack… all in the mind…. You think.
~~~ A new life, in part, time does not wait ~~~
Thanks for the quick proof Nick.