by Joan Arling

Feedback is always welcome: joanarling@e-scribblers.com.

Copyright © 2008 by Joan Arling. All Rights Reserved.

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Once upon a time, there was a rich girl.

You could tell she had class. Her clothes weren’t some exclusive brand, they’d been tailored for her, and if that tailor lived in her vicinity, then that just told you something about where she probably lived. Her hairdo looked like she had just raked through it with her hands, but not a single strand was out of place. It must have taken the artist hours. Hardly any jewelry, but what little there was was probably worth more than the car I was saving for, only I was saving for a third hand model, or older, if that proved too expensive.

Now, when I think of luxury, it is something like a cup of hot cocoa. Handmade. Not chips of Swiss chocolate melting in a pot of simmering milk, but a spoonfull of cocoa powder, two spoons of sugar, a dash of condensated milk (but 10 percent fat, I insist on that!), stir, then fill up with boiling water. Not haute cuisine, just what I’d got when I was a little kid. On Sundays.

I wondered if she even knew the taste, either sort.

I looked at my reflection in the large glass pane that separated the salon from the garden: blue jeans, white tank top under a black cardigan, black trainers. Practical. Work wear. That’s how I’d got here in the first place, to help move all those frames, arrange furniture, so on. It was a charity affair, so my acquaintances were not making money on it; consequently we peasants had been invited to sample the world of the rich and famous in lieu of being paid. Too bad I didn’t read the tabloids, so I did not recognise the celebrities. I rolled my eyes when I thought of Maggie pulling her hair out at my not being able to even tell her who’d been there.

The band played danceable tunes from the 70’s and 80’s — fair enough. Sax, guitar, bass, piano, drums, if only they didn’t look like penguins! They were surprisingly good, though, alternating between swing and rock. Seemed like too much of a good thing for some of the honourables, but it kept my spirits up; if not for the music, I’d probably have left before the bar was open. I nursed a beer (3 quid! OK, for charity’s sake), and moved lightly to the rhythm, when suddenly a voice beside me asked, “Do you want to dance?” I turned around, not certain that the question was aimed at me, and there she stood, smiling into my face. I almost let the bottle drop.

“Do I what?” I looked behind me, just to make certain she was not addressing somebody else, and mentally hit myself, because I had clean forgotten that I was standing next to the wall. “You’re joking, right?” I bit my tongue when an expression of disappointment crept into her face. “I mean, here I am, swaying to the music — it’s kind of obvious that I want to.” I felt my face become warm, then warmer still as I realized that the polite thing to do would have been to say ‘Thank you’.

I put my bottle on a nearby table and let her lead me to the dance floor. She was a really good dancer, but when I complimented her on it, she only shrugged, and said,

“All those lessons had to be good for something, didn’t they?” Then her face brightened. “Hey, they made it possible for me to dance with you now, so I have no reason to complain.”

Sweet talker. But she looked like she meant it — hmm, yes, come to Mama! A few slow pieces had us cheek to cheek, and as our breasts touched, I could have sworn that her clothes had picked up a static charge. I breathed her in, wondering what perfume she was wearing. Sweet, light, a touch of freshly cut grass, mostly beyond definition. Probably not from the discounter down the street.

The music ended to polite applause, and some guy stood at the head of the room and began a speech. Her face fell, and as we retreated to the back of the salon, she said, “How awful! If it weren’t for you, I sure wish I were somewhere else.” She lowered her gaze, and she looked cute beyond words with that trace of a blush.

“You speak my mind”, I sighed, then, “How about finding another place, ... What’s your name, anyway?”

“Ricarda. Ric. And yours?”

“I’m Dawn.”

Her eyes twinkled, but she kept her mouth shut against one of the wisecracks that must have to come to her mind. I liked her for that.

“Lead on, Dawn!” she smiled. “Just let me go tell my parents, so they won’t be missing me.” And barely audible, “As if they would!”

She walked across the room, and addressed who would be her mother, who looked up, and I could see the smile on her face freeze. They looked like they’d both start spewing icicles any moment, then Ricarda turned and headed in my direction. Her mother threw a few spare icicles my way, obviously displeased that I was part of whatever crime was being committed. Oh, my...

Meanwhile, I was having second thoughts. I would normally have taken her to The Dark Triangle, but I wondered if that place would not be a little too down-to-earth for someone as refined as she was. I could also picture all the butches there heading towards her like iron filings towards a magnet, and aside from the question where that would leave me, she had not given any indication of feeling comfortable in gay company. Not to speak of her own orientation, apart from having asked me to dance. Oh well, if she had problems with how I lived, it would probably be best to establish that right from the beginning. The thought came as an uninvited pang.

“We’ll have to take your car, if you don’t mind.”

“Hah! Wait till you see my four-wheeled pride, then tell me you don’t mind! Rusty but not-so-trusty... ”, I grinned, and reflected on the double meaning of the word ‘pick-up’.

I opened the passenger door, and gathered the folders lying on the seat into a bag so she could sit down. I got in, and wonder of wonders, the motor caught with the first press of the starter button.

“Yes!”

She grinned at my reaction. “Would you mind passing by my place, so that I can get into something more comfortable?”

“Just tell me where to go.”

I stopped before a big wrought iron gate, and she leaned out of the window to press the button on the intercom.

“Garble-garble.”

“It’s me, Ricarda.”

“Garble-garble.”

She sighed and looked up.

“Garble-garble.”

Of course, CCT.

“I’m afraid your license plate has just been registered.”

“Oh shit! Do you think they’ll check with the police?”

She looked at me with alarm all over her face. “Why?”

“I stole the crown jewels yesterday. They’re still in the glove compartment.”

She glanced at it before she could check herself, and I could not contain a smirk. Looking back at my face again she let me have her far from gentle fist against my shoulder.

The gate swung open and we rolled over white gravel to the mansion. Only three hundred yards or so. She invited me in, but I declined, illogically hoping that if I stayed with Old Rusty, she would behave, and not leak too much oil on the immaculate ground. Would my insurance cover this?

I retrieved one of the folders, and started making corrections to the text, scolding myself that I’d again wasted paper by printing something before it was ready.

When she reappeared, she was wearing black slacks, flats, and a tee shirt two sizes too large. Her hair was still damp from the shower she had obviously taken, and she smelled vaguely of rose scented soap. I stared at the apparition beside me, unable to think a straight thought. Literally.

“Well?” she broke my paralysis.

I closed my mouth and fumbled for the starter, pushing the forgotten folder to the floor. Our heads bumped together when we both tried to pick it up.

“What’s this?”

“Oh, nothing. I took it along for a pal, but she didn’t show up, and I was only... ”

Good thing it was dark in my pick up. Of course, she switched on the light above her seat and looked at the first page in the open folder.

“This is a short story, right? So you’re a writer?”

She pointed to the page, “This would be your pen name, then?”

I nodded, only managing a “hmm-hmm” past my suddenly constricted throat.

The next few miles were hell for me, as she delved into the text without even asking for permission. I soothed my nerves with the fact that she might as well have stumbled onto it on my homepage, unlikely though that was. Any mouse hole would have been big enough for me to disappear into, but Rusty, for all her faults, was not infested with rodents.

“Wow!”

I glanced at her face, and there was no grin. Disdain neither. I took a deep breath when I was suddenly hit by the thought of what story she had just read. Red hot iron lodged in my stomach as I took another glance, but I could not read her expression. We rode on in silence.

I pulled into the car park of the Triangle, and when we’d got out of Rusty I cleared my throat.

“Now this will be a little wilder than where we came from, so if it’s too much... ”

“Did you think I’d have asked you to dance without having a feeling for who you might be? Besides, after reading your story, just try and stop me from getting in there with you!”

“Eh, my stories aren’t... ”

She grabbed my hand and pulled me towards the entrance. Yup, just the shy girl I’d expected her to be.

Larissa was on bouncer duty that night.

“Hi Dawn! And a new face?”

“Yep. She’s Ric, and I’d be grateful if you could keep your hands to yourself!”

We both laughed, well knowing that Larissa, for all of her impressive appearance, was not the trespassing type.

We took stools at the bar, and Penny asked, “Your usual? And your friend?”

Ric decided on a glass of white wine, I ordered a tonic water. Not knowing how the evening would end, I wanted to stay sober. Penny’s raised brow caused Ric to look at me, and I felt myself blush at my own thoughts. Bah, taxis were too expensive, weren’t they? Ric moved closer to me while we waited for our drinks.

We had a few dances, and I was blown away with the way she moved. She had the grace of a cat, or perhaps two of them. Her eyes almost shut, she moved in total oblivion to her surroundings, and the way she became the motion made me think that ‘all those lessons’ she’d deprecatingly mentioned might well have been at a ballet school. She drew more than a few glances, but I managed to get included in them, and nobody seemed inclined to tread my territory. ‘My territory’! As if I indeed had a claim...

But mostly we sat at the bar, and while she stared at the crowd she kept deliciously close to me. I would have liked to attribute that to my attractive personality, but in truth she was probably a little scared of the unfamiliar environment. She took it in like a hungry person would take in food, though.

In fact we didn’t stay very long, and when we left, Larissa looked pointedly at her watch, eyes twinkling in a completely innocent face.

We climbed into Rusty, but just as I reached for the starter she said, “Wait, please!” I leaned back into my seat and looked at her. She seemed to be about to say a thousand things, but unable to select what. I watched her sort her thoughts.

“You’re gay, aren’t you?”

I suppressed a flippant answer. “Well, you’ve read that story, you’ve seen where I hang out... pretty obvious, isn’t it? Yes, I am, and happily so.”

She bit her lip. “I guess I am, too. I’m also very confused. I almost died when I asked you to dance. I’ve never done that before. I mean, I’ve dreamed about it, but I never found the courage. Not that I’ve had that many opportunities.”

Uh-oh. I remembered the time when I’d finally shoved my doubts and feelings of guilt overboard, how my days of being well socialised had ended with a bang, how very few people were willing to even listen to me. I resolved to ease the rocky road for her, if I could. Shit, was she bringing out the butch in me? Oh, hell, I’d been drawn to her even before she changed from being a super model to someone unbelievably attractive.

“Hey, if I can do anything to help... ”

She seemed to shrink before my eyes. “Yes”, she whispered, barely audibly, “but I’m afraid to ask.”

She clammed up and fixed her gaze on her hands, her fingers interlocked so hard that both knuckles and fingernails were virtually white. I bent over, and gently massaged an iron-hard forearm.

“Come on, us dykes must stick together, don’t we now?”

She took several deep breaths. “C-can I stay at your place tonight?”

Hallelujah! I calmed myself immediately. Normally I’d have hurried us home, only stopping at the altar of the deity that had answered my prayers, or perhaps the thanksgiving could have waited until tomorrow. Bad girl! I sighed. Ric was in deep trouble, so I’d better set my mind on higher things.

“Of course you can. And... I understand. No spider’s lair, cross my heart.”

She closed her eyes, an ineffective measure against the tears that started to roll down her cheeks. I put an arm around her shoulders awkwardly (hey, Rusty wasn’t exactly a love seat!) and drew her against myself, heroically ignoring her fragrance that was working hard on activating my baser instincts.

Eventually we made it to my apartment. I winced at what she’d probably think of our furnishings, when it hit me — our furnishings. I’d clean forgotten about Maggie. This called for diplomacy.

“Uh, we’ll have to be quiet. Maggie will have to get up early, so she’ll be asleep right now.”

I could see her shield come up.

“You’re living together with a... friend?”

“No. Ah, yes, I do. But she’s not a friend, not in that sense. She helps me pay the rent until she leaves for a job overseas next month. Hey, that’s only a week away — Lord knows where I’ll get another one. The flat is much too expensive for me alone."

True as this was, it sounded definitely lame. OK, bull’s horns.

“Look, Maggie’s straighter than an arrow. Even if I wanted, it would be No Go. And I wouldn’t do this, not to you.”

Could that be my ears that were burning? No, that would never happen to me. Probably Rusty’s heating.

She tiptoed up the stairs. I smiled, “Hey, I just meant that throwing a party would be a bit much. If she wakes up from normal movement, she wasn’t tired enough in the first place.”

We had a glass of wine in the living room, both needing to calm down a little, then I showed her to my bedroom. She was dead on her feet, and I briefly wondered how that had come about, because the day was not that old. She turned to me when I was about to leave.

“Are you not sleeping in here? I don’t want to put you out.”

“I’d better not. I have only limited saintly qualities, you know?”

She blushed.

“You need some night gown?”

“Uh, no, I... ”

I rolled my eyes.

“Oh, baby... If you feel cuddly, feel free to use Ursula.” I indicated the Teddybear sitting on my armchair. She unsuccessfully tried to suppress a giggle, and I simulated a hurt look.

“Sleep well!”

“You too... and thanks!”

“Think nothing of it.”

I set up my sleeping bag in the living room and tried to sleep, my thoughts on the most desirable woman I had yet met lying naked between my sheets and cuddling my Teddy. Eventually I dozed off, but I was awakened by Maggie, preparing to leave for work. She stared at me with wide eyes and started to laugh like a maniac.

“SHHH!”

She quieted down, but continued to chuckle.

“My, oh my! I’d never thought I’d ask this, but... wouldn’t she let you?”

“Piss off, will you?”

“Oh girl, you’ll have to tell me every minute detail when I get back!”

I hated people who were wide awake at such an ungodly hour. Unfortunately, that described myself as well, because I couldn’t get back to sleep.

I sneaked into my — well, Ric’s, for the time being — bedroom, feeling my heart lift at the sight of her angelic face half hidden by the covers, right next to Ursula. It was no mean display of self control that I kept my fingers from running through her hair. Instead I noiselessly laid a selection of clothes next to hers, then tiptoed from from the room and made myself a mug of coffee.

I was halfway through my mug when I heard the sound of a suppressed yawn. Tousled hair, sleepy eyes, wearing her tee shirt that covered her to mid-thigh.

“G’Morning!”

I tore my eyes from her and looked at the table.

“Good morning, sleepyhead!”

“Can I use your shower?”

I indicated the door to the bathroom.

“Sure. There should be some fresh toothbrushes in the top drawer, too. What about coffee, toast, bacon, and scrambled eggs afterwards?”

“That would be heaven.”

So I got busy, listening to the water running next door, and trying not to imagine the sight only a few feet away from where I stood. She tucked back into my room, and re-emerged clad in the clothes I had laid out for her, which gave me a pleasant tingle.

After breakfast, I suggested a stroll in the park, and we walked silently side by side. She gently took my index finger into her hand, and I took her hand into mine. No half measures, right? I took a sideways look at her face, which she returned with a happy smile. We wandered on, for the moment happy to be in each other’s company.

Part Two

When I came home from work I parked Rusty behind a car that did not really belong in our neighbourhood, a black beamer sportster, and I wondered what on earth someone with enough dough for such a vehicle would want in this part of the town. I thought of leather seats, walnut dashboard, and was about to take a peek through the tinted glass just out of curiosity. There was someone behind the wheel, female to go by her hair, head leaned back and slightly to her right against the pane, apparently asleep. Someone familiar... Ric?

It was Ric, indeed, her face smudged with dried tears. I approached the car with apprehension, and knocked on the driver window. She didn’t hear. I knocked harder, and her eyelids fluttered open. She looked about her, trying to get oriented, and her eyes met mine. I could see more tears gathering. I opened the door, squatted on my heels, and took her face in my hands.

“What’s the matter?”

She only screwed her eyes shut and shook her head in wild denial.

“Come on in. I’ll get you something to eat or to drink, and you calm down, OK?”

She let her shoulders slump and exited the car, then followed me wordlessly into my apartment. She didn’t need to tell me what had happened. I remembered the looks she had exchanged with her mother. There must have been a quarrel at her home. I only hoped it hadn’t been as devastating as mine, when I’d told my parents not only about my orientation, but also my decision to stick with it. But anyway, she was here for another night, and I was in for another one in my sleeping bag. Oh well! The way she looked was as cute as yesterday, but didn’t inspire the same kind of desire. Rather an urge to take her into my arms and let her sob into my shoulder. I’d have hated anybody she might have turned to instead of me. Pretty selfish, uh?

I retrieved a lasagna from the refrigerator and put in in the oven, then opened a bottle of Chardonnay. We sipped quietly while we waited for the lasagna to get ready.

“Good you’re here. Much as I hate it, Ursula told me she was missing you. You must be something under the sheets!”

I quickly shut up, pleasant thoughts starting to spread warmth within me. I felt like perhaps I’d been a little on the bold side, but her face had a nice pink tinge, and she didn’t look angry.

“I should take a hotel room... ”

”Go ahead, if you want to really offend me.”

I shot her a dark look, accompanied by a smile. “I’m not going to lock the door to prevent you from walking out, but I’m happy to have you here. Except for the circumstances, of course.”

She moved over next to me, and put her hand on my knee. “I’ve never yet met someone like you. You... ”, she bit her lip and turned her gaze at the carpet. I looked at her profile, then at her hand, and considered the situation. Many very nice perspectives here... but she was in a really shitty position, so I raised my mind from the gutter. Could have been easier. I was saved by the bell, the one from the oven that said dinner was ready.

While we were busy eating, I asked, “I don’t want to be nosy, but what is it with your parents? You’re obviously having trouble. Want to talk about it?”

“Hmm-hmm.” She fell silent, gathering her thoughts.

“My mother knew. But she didn’t want to know. These things just don’t occur, not in our family. I mean, she had noticed that I didn’t look at boys, but did look at girls, even if that was all I ever did so far. She tried to set me up with ‘suitable young men’, but to no avail. She was somewhat less than happy when we left the gala together.”

I remembered the looks her mother had pointed my way.

“My father ignores such things, what cannot happen, will not happen. But after I told my mother, she would probably call it a confrontation, and she saw that she could not move me, she called my father, and he could no longer ignore it. Oh, he did not yell or anything, he just turned cold as ice, and told me I would have to choose between family and a ‘lewd lifestyle’. I asked him why they would not accept me the way I am, but he only said, ‘You have heard me. You will either be an honourable member of the Olivier family, or I will personally put you out of here with what you are wearing.’ I — I could not go back. That evening with you had really opened my eyes.”

She blushed. “I don’t need to tell you how people think Lesbians live, do I? Until yesterday much of that crap was in my mind, too. But the way you treated me, all those warm and happy people in the bar... it was like having a blindfold removed, and I knew that part of why I had never really tried to act like myself was because I had never really looked.” She stopped and stared at the ground. “My father demands my decision by tomorrow. It is killing me, but if it is to be the street, then so be it.”

“But he can’t throw you out like that, you must be entitled to alimony or something!”

“Alimony? I would not even need that, I came into an inheritance on my twenty-first birthday. But he controls the accounts, he’s a partner of the bank. It’ll take a court order to have him let me access what’s legally mine. I cleared out my current account before he could could lock me out of that, too. So I have a couple of hundred quid, but that’s all.”

“He can do that?”

“There’s little you cannot do when you are rich. And he is filthily rich.”

“You gonna phone your parents tomorrow? Perhaps tempers will have cooled by then.”

“This is not a case of tempers. But yes, I’ll at least have to try.”

“I’d like to be there as moral support, but I’ll have to work early. Oh, that reminds me... ” I retrieved a spare set of keys from a drawer. “Here, you’ll need these to get back in when you leave the house.”

“How can you be sure that I’m not going to elope with Ursula?”

That had me on the floor. She really was something.

Working the early shift actually suited me. I will happily spend the entire day in bed when I’m free, but having most of the afternoon to myself was fine, too. Besides, the sleeping bag was no replacement for my bed. Maggie saw me roll it out in the living room, but she only raised her brows with no giggles this time.

“Ric needs a shelter for some time”, I told her.

“Oh, no sweat of mine.”

Coming from my shift I found Ric very quiet.

“The talk did not go well, did it?”

“No.”

After having been silent for a long time she turned to me, her face pale, and held my eyes. “Dawn, you’ve been very caring, and I don’t know how to express my gratitude... ” I wanted to wave that away, but her seriousness stopped me in my tracks.

“I may have been uncertain about some aspects of myself, but the confrontation with my parents has removed any uncertainties. Yes, I am a lesbian, and I intend to stand by it. That means that I will take my parents at their words and cease being their daughter. Which in turn cuts me off some resources which are legally mine, but I will not be able to fall back on them without a lengthy process.”

She took several deep breaths, steeling herself, and I could feel that she was coming to the hard part.

“I don’t want to impose on you, but I’ve been attracted to you from the moment I first saw you, and I’ve come to like you very much since. I — I have never asked for help before, but — will you help me stand on my own? I don’t want to be a burden to you, but I probably will if you let me into your life... H-help me, please?”

I could not resist, I just had to feel her near me. “You’re not going anywhere alone, you hear me? We’re in this together, and not because you asked, but because I wouldn’t have it any other way. I’d be really hurt if you chose someone else to go along with!”

She clung to me as if she might be washed away any moment now, and I could feel my shirt getting damp on my shoulder. I played with the hair in her nape, making soothing sounds. I had a world full of trouble before me and in my arms, but I was so happy that I could have whooped with joy, loud enough for the world to hear.

She pulled me down on the couch until I lay half on top of her, turned her wet face into mine, and opened her quivering lips. I traced them with the tip of my tongue, and when I heard her whimpering softly, put my lips on hers and begged for entrance, which she granted eagerly. When we broke the contact for lack of air, her hands sent jolts of electricity through me as they crept under my shirt and drew circles on my back.

I looked at her passion filled face and something turned within me. I dropped by her side and pulled her into a tight hug, holding perfectly still.

“Dawn? Don’t you want me?”

“I want you more than I can tell. More than I ever realised until just this moment. But as much as I want to touch you, there’s ... more.”

I kissed her eyes. “Heaven help me, I think I’m falling for you.” Some tears I could no longer contain blurred my vision of her beautiful face.

“Just hold me”, I begged, “don’t let me slip away.” Our breathing mingled, and we slowly dropped into a slumber.

Ric moved into Maggie’s room after she left for America. “I’ll miss Ursula!”

“Not that cheapy? She’ll sleep with anyone, you know that. But she’s mine, so don’t look at me with your big eyes!”

“Aw, don’t be like that... ”

I gave her my lewdest look, “You can always come share, you know?”

She gave me a smile that can only be described as wicked. “Oh, I will!”

I tried to hide the emotions assaulting me, successfully, I thought. Well, hoped.

“Thanks for having me”, she whispered.

“Anytime”, I croaked, then cleared my throat.

She made a determined face, “OK, since I’m going to live here, how much is the rent?”

“I think we should talk about that later. You ought to get settled first.” I didn’t want to remind her that she had no income at that moment; that would hit her soon enough. But she saw through me.

“Then I’ll start settling by getting myself a job.” Her face fell. “Uh, problem is, I have no idea how to go about doing that. I mean, being in the middle of studying economics would hardly be a qualification employers look for, would it?”

“Hmm, perhaps you could be an accountant?”

She looked away. “Ahem, it’s more about the theory behind accounting and several other things.”

Oh nice, an engineer who did not know how to hold a screwdriver... I squashed the thought, it was not her fault that her family had planned a career for her that would have an entry level on the tenth floor, if not higher.

“Look here, I know that this may not be for you, but the supermarket I work at is always looking for people. They have a high turnover rate. The job is lousy, so is the pay, but some of the girls are good to be with, and it is a relatively steady income. Could you see yourself as a checkout girl? Mind you, it’s harder than it looks — at the end of a shift you won’t believe how many heavy items you have moved over the scanner, and sometimes customers can be a real pita.”

“You mean they would take me?”

“With your looks? If you can manage to smile at the customers, you’ll probably make a difference in the volume of sales.”

She bit her lip. “I can try, can’t I? Where do I have to go?”

“Come with me tomorrow, I’ll show you the manager’s bureau.”

“You have a new co-worker!” She looked proud.

“Welcome to slavedom,” I smiled back. “What’ll you be doing?”

“Oh, getting to know the layout, so I’ll be able to advise customers. Filling up shelves, cleaning up, that sort of thing. Checkout later, perhaps.”

“Hmm, and what do they pay you?”

“Three quid an hour.”

I did a doubletake. “Three?”

“Yes. Why d’you look like that?”

I counted the change for a customer, glad that I didn’t have to answer for a moment.

“Why don’t you wait for me in the fast food corner? My break’s coming up, I’ll join you in a quarter, OK?”

She nodded. I shook my head in disbelief. These people never learned, it seemed.

“Mr Ebenser? A moment, please?”

“Make it short, please.”

“About the new girl, I think there’s been a mistake.”

He raised a brow.

“She’s getting three per hour, not the usual four and fifty?”

His face soured. “I didn’t know that private” he stressed the last word “wage agreements were topic for public discussion.”

“They aren’t... yet. I think she should get the basic wage.”

“Or what?”

“Or the girls might think that management is trying to level down wages. Some of them might want to rethink that union thing.”

I thought he might be about to burst an artery. Not that his blood pressure was any of my concern.

“You are not irreplaceable, you know that?”

“Sure, and I think Brenda isn’t either, nor Linda, nor Sarah... You could find yourself with a lot of newbies and no one to train them.”

He looked like he was swallowing a mouthful of nails.

“I’ll look into it. Is that all?”

“Yes, only when she gets to do the checkout, there’s the usual raise of 50 pence, but I’m certain I don’t have to remind you.”

I smiled and left his office. Somehow both of us had forgotten to say ‘goodbye’.

I joined Ric at the coffee bar. “You may invite me to celebrate your new job. Oh, by the way, you just got a raise of one fifty.” I grinned at her big eyes. “You could spend just that amount on two cups of coffee — that’s a hint.”

She came back with the two cups, sat down, and asked, “But how... ”

“Because I won’t hold still when the pencil pushers try to take it out on someone who doesn’t know her way around here. Bad precedent.”

I spotted a familiar face. “Hey Bren, girl! Come join us, I want you to meet someone!”

Brenda waved, and we waited while she got herself a sandwich and a milkshake. She pulled up a chair and sat down at our table.

“Bren, meet Ric. She’s just joined our team.”

“Hi Ric!” Brenda smiled warmly at her, then looked back at me, looked again, looked back at Ric, and broke into a grin.

“You two look like lovebirds! You are, aren’t you?”

I tried to hit her shin under the table while Ric turned a beautiful pink.

“Chatterbox!”

“Ah, I see you’re not denying it. Congrats, you’ve been alone so long that I started to worry.” And to Ric, “She’s only half bad, you know? She just needs a firm hand.”

Ric started to giggle, and I turned to her in mock chagrin, “Whose side are you on, hey?”, but that only turned her giggle into full-grown laughter that was immediately joined by Bren’s. I fought to keep my countenance, but I was losing rapidly.

“You know that old Scrooge wanted to fob Ric off with three quid?”

“He’ll never quit trying, will he? I take it you told him off?”

“Yes, as soon as Ric told me. I mentioned the unions, and he backed down at once. You should have seen his face!”

“Yea, how can we lowly creatures have the temerity to ask for fair wages! As if they were, anyway. You been working in a supermarket before, Ric?”

Ric lowered her gaze to the ground, and her ‘No’ was almost inaudible. Brenda looked at me quizzically, and I gestured her not to not pursue the topic for the moment.

“Oh, you’ll see, it’s really simple. Dawn and I will show you around, and we both know a few shortcuts that make work easier. So welcome to the crew!”

Ric’s face lit up at the friendly words. “Thank you, Bren! I guess I can use any help I can get.”

When we came home she turned around, put her hands on her hips, and said, “OK, how much rent?”

I could see that she had a stubborn side to her. But it did lift a load off my shoulders.

“Hey, you have a guitar! Do you play it?”

“No, I couldn’t afford a tennis rack.”

“You’re the world’s worst tease!”

She pouted, and I put a quick kiss on her lips. “There. Friends again?”

She kissed me back and said, “I have one, too... had one, I should say, as it’s still in my parents’ house. Show me yours, please?”

I took the guitar out of its case and handed it to her. This time I also noticed that the fingernails on her left hand were kept very short — I’d have made a sound detective, sigh. She sat down, checked that the strings were tuned, and began to play. I became very, very still. She played like a goddess, an instrumental piece I did not recognise. Something classical, not usually my cup of tea, but listening to her playing it simply blew me away.

When she had finished, I asked her, “Where did you learn to play like that? You must have been practising for years!”

She shrugged, but her eyes shone with pride. “Umh, I was trying to show off... apparently it worked”, and a smile spread on her face. “Actually I am much more into things like the Indigo Girls, Joni Mitchell, Carol King.”

“You’re not telling me this because you’ve seen my CDs?” I asked, drawing my eyebrows together in a stern expression.

She laughed, and smoothed my forehead with a hand, “No, but I was really pleased to see that we both love the same kind of music!”

“How about ‘You’ve got a Friend’, then? I’ll harmonise.”

“Won’t you play?”

“With you in the same room? Never!”

It was beautiful. I felt like my soul was flying, and when the song ended, I suddenly became aware of the words we’d sung. Looking at her, I saw that she was having similar thoughts. We were interrupted by a knock on the door.

Brenda stood there with a solemn look on her face. “I’m sorry to interrupt... that wasn’t a recording, was it?”

“Oh my. Ric, we’re busted!” I called over my shoulder while motioning Bren to come in. Ric’s face lit up when she saw Brenda, so much so that I gave her a warning glare, but that only made her return a saucy grin.

“Hey girl, come sit beside me. Can we get you anything?”

“A beer would be nice, yes.”

Seeing that Ric still held the guitar I made my way to the fridge, “You too, Ric?” “Yes, please”, and retrieved three bottles. I went to sit with the two, and asked, “Anything special bring you here, or just company?”

“Actually I wanted to talk about a staff meeting in the supermarket, but right now I’m totally carried away from listening to you two. When and where are you planning to perform?”

“Aw, come on. Ric only just discovered that I have a guitar, and she wanted to try it, is all. Although her try was quite spectacular, I have to admit.”

Ric’s face turned a slightly darker shade, very becoming. “It was nothing, really, although”, turning to me, “I could get used to making music together with you. I didn’t know you had such a beautiful voice."

This time it was my blood that had nowhere better to go but my face. Meanwhile, Bren began to chuckle, looked at us both, but didn’t say a word.

“What is it, Bren?”

“I’m not saying anything, not with my shins within Dawn’s reach.” Her chuckles turned into giggles, and I feigned a kick in her direction. “See?”, she faked a flinch, and we were all laughing, only Ric had just taken a sip and was now fighting not to spill it through her nose.

“But seriously, girls, you should do that in public. Do you also do your own stuff, besides covering?”

“Yes, of course”, we answered in unison, looking at one another in astonishment, and continued, “You too?”

Bren cleared her throat, bringing our attention back to her. “A friend of mine is looking for acts for a concert to raise money for the local anti aids campaign. Do you think you could cover say, an hour? You’d have”, she pulled out a datebook, “five weeks to prepare. That OK?”

I felt my jaw drop, but Ric was indignant. “Bren, you cannot just blow through here like a hurricane! We only just discovered that we both like making music as well as listening to it.”

Bren was unfazed. “You’re not going to tell me ‘No’, are you? That’s settled then. Besides, she pays fifty quid per act.” She opened her cell phone, shushed our starting commotion, and said “Annie? I just booked an act for your concert. ... No, you don’t know them, female duo, guitar and voice ... ahem”, she looked at the ceiling for a moment, “ ‘Rich Dawn’. ... Yes, right. ... You know me, Annie, I wouldn’t ... Si. Da. Yes, I know you need it in writing, I’ll handle the contracts, you just get me the forms. ... OK, I’ll wrap it up. See ya tomorrow. Bye!”

She looked at our flabbergasted faces. “Well, you heard it, it’s a deal. Oh, I am so looking forward to listening to you!” Her look became impish. “Come to think of it, as your manager I ought to be cut in on — Don’t you dare!”, when I threatened to pour the remains of my beer over her head.

“Now don’t look at me like that! You’ll be having so much fun, you won’t know how to thank me!”

Ric cleared her throat. “OK, OK, but... Bren, we need a second guitar. I can’t get at mine, for the moment.”

“That shouldn’t be a problem. May one ask why?”

Ric and I looked at each other, and she nodded her consent. Shortly Bren became familiar with the outlines of Ric’s predicament. She pulled a disgusted face. “And here I was thinking that we were finally leaving the Middle Ages... " She looked at me, and sighed, “It never stops, does it?”

Do you know how many songs it takes to fill an hour? Eighteen, in numbers One-Eight. We decided to include some well-known songs for the listeners’ sakes, but that still left us with a dozen songs unfamiliar to one of us, and working out harmonies can be a piece of work, too. I began to look forward to our time together after work even more than I had before, especially after we managed to get our shifts in sync. Getting to know Ric’s lyrics gave me a new insight into her soul, and she didn’t seem to mind what I had written. We were discovering one another, a heady way to spend one’s time.

You wouldn’t believe how five weeks can fly by. We found ourselves in the backstage area, trying to keep up the conversation with the other musicians. I swore I would hit the next person over the head who told us how easy it all was. OK, we were newbies, but I had always had trouble standing condescension. I seemed not to be able to wipe my hands dry, and Ric wore that look she’d had when she’d entered the manager’s office. When ‘Rich Dawn’ was announced, we looked into each other’s eyes, and went out on stage. Ave, imperatrix, nos morituri...

It went surprisingly well, but I was wet all over when we finished. So was Ric, and I must admit that seeing her tee shirt cling to her was almost reward enough for the stress we’d been through. When she threw me a lewd look, I gazed down my own front — Oh, sweet Jesus!

While we got tipsy at the bar, quite a few people asked us if we didn’t have CDs to sell. A pretty compliment, I guess, but no, we had only been pressured into the whole thing by a friend. But man, had it been fun!

When I turned in, I could not sleep, despite having had several beers. Just when I was about to call it a night and get up to soothe my nerves in front of the TV, Ric knocked and put her head in my room.

“You asleep?”

“No, can’t.”

She fidgeted at the foot of my bed. “Dawn, I... ”

I lifted my covers, and told her to get in before she’d catch a cold. She snuggled up to me, and I could feel her shiver, so I pulled her into my arms, and hummed softly into her ear. Had I ever felt that heavenly? Not that I could remember. She quieted, and before long her breathing became deep and even. Suddenly I didn’t mind lying awake, listening to her very soft snoring, but it was not long before the lights went out for me, too.

Part Three

The sunlight was mercifully filtered by the blinds as I slowly emerged from sleep. Thank Goddess for a free weekend! I felt Ric’s delicious presence next to me, and I thought that there were far worse ways to spend two days when the door bell rang. I ignored it. It rang again. I ignored it again. It continued ringing, and with a silent curse I slid out from under the covers, trying not to disturb the sleeping beauty by my side, and reached for my dressing gown.

Opening the door I was face to face with Brenda. “What took you so long? I’m not disturbing, am I?”

I growled at her. “The great artist needs her beauty sleep.”

She pushed past me and laid a selection of newspapers on the table. “You’re not that far off, you know? You probably haven’t seen these yet, I take it.”

“Not now. I’m off to the bathroom. You know where the coffee is, so get busy.”

After I had showered I felt almost human, the aroma of the fresh brew helping as well. “Ric still asleep?” As if on cue, my bedroom door opened, and a very tousled head peaked through, sporting a monstrous yawn. “Whassup?”

Brenda had ‘AHA!’ written all over her face, so I concentrated on my cup.

“What’s with the papers? Did they finally abolish slave labour?”

“No, but this is almost as good.” She opened one to the local news, and held it for my perusal. At the top of the page there was a rather large photo, and the caption read “New stars rising?”

I almost dropped my cup. That photo showed Ric and me!

“How’s that for a wake-up call?” Brenda’s smile almost touched her earlobes.

I groaned. “Oh no! We’ll be the talk of the town. Can you imagine how the girls at the market are going to react? We’ll be teased no end!”

“No end? Quite so. Annie told me that she had several inquiries as to how you could be booked, who your manager was, so on.” She looked smug. I wanted to crawl back into bed, but Ric had meanwhile made it into the bathroom, so that idea had lost a lot of appeal.

I was appalled. Sure, it had been nice to have people be enthusiastic with what we did, but figuring in the papers would bring no end of... No end?

“Brenda, what exactly were you hinting at when you said ‘No end’? What are you and Annie up to?”

Ric chose that moment to reappear, dressed only in an oversize tee, smiled at Bren, and kissed me on the nose.

“Uh, how late is it?”

“Never mind, look at this!”

I gave her the open newspaper and she sat next to me, trying to soak up some of my warmth. Bren opened another paper, and my eyes widened as I thought ‘Oh no!’

“That’s one of the things I had in mind when I said ‘No end’. You’re all over them.”

“Hey, they can’t do that! Don’t we have to be asked, or something?”

“You bet they can. You’re public interest now, might as well get used to it.”

I felt Ric chuckle at my side, she seemed to think this was all very funny.

“But there’s more”, Bren poked around in her handbag, and took out her datebook. “You are already booked on the sixteenth — that’s in a fortnight — and the week after, with three or four appearances to follow which have not yet been signed, one of those as an opening act for ‘Dyke Strike’, which you may have heard of.”

Ric gave a squeal of rapture.

“Are you both out of your heads? We’ll be lucky to get through the aftermath of that one concert unscathed! I can so live without being leered at on every corner, let alone the job! And all that before I have even finished my first coffee! Rising star, huh? Well, you can watch this star fall right now, back into bed.”

I pulled the covers over my head, and waited for my thoughts to stop spinning. I hoped I would eventually wake up and find it had only been a nightmare. I rolled over to where Ric had lain, and breathed in her smell, that still clung to the linen, hugged the pillow her head had been on, and fell asleep.

I awoke to the soft touch of Ric’s hands in my hair, looked up into her face, and saw that she was troubled.

“Hey,” I let a finger trace her lips, “what’s on your mind?”

“I was going to ask you the same thing,” she whispered. “You’re really upset, aren’t you?”

I groaned as the momentarily absent memory returned. “Aren’t you?”

“No, actually I feel I could burst with joy... except for your reaction. I mean, we are being handed an opportunity many people would give an arm and a leg for!”

“Not me,” I grumped, “I am very attached to all of them.”

She chuckled. “Now get up, you can’t spend all day in bed!”

I pulled softly at her shoulder, “Oh, I can’t?”

“Oh, come on, Dawn. We have to talk.”

“Bribe me?”

“Coffee?”

I sighed. “Just cannot say ‘No’ to you.”

Bren had left, thank Goddess. She’s a lovely girl, and I like her a lot, but I felt I had seen enough of her for one day. The newspapers lay scattered around the table, with the relevant pages removed and on a stack of their own. I leafed through them with misgivings.

“Looks like we weren’t all bad, doesn’t it?”

“Yea, sure. Have you yet thought of what will happen on Monday? Everyone, except Scrooge, is going to ask for our autographs; if we give, then they will snicker behind our backs because we think we’re stars, if we don’t, they’ll snicker behind our backs because we’re arrogant bitches. And that is not even considering the customers — aargh!”

“Come on, darling, the girls will be back to normal once they’ve had their fun, and the customers — well, nothing is deader than yesterday’s news.”

She was right, and that brightened me up considerably. “All we have to do is tell Brenda we’re not... ”

Ric directed her gaze downwards. I let the silence go on for a while, then asked, “But that’s not how you want it, do you?”

She looked up and said, “I’m making you angry, aren’t I?”

I swallowed, hard. “Oh Baby, don’t look at me this way! I’m getting all mushy inside.”

“I would really like us to try and make a success of this. Short term, we’re getting two hundred for each performance, and you know we need the money. But apart from that, we’re good, I feel it, I know it! And it’s fun, admit it!”

I let that sink in, and she gave me the time I needed. I knew that I did not want to still be on the checkout in twenty years’ time, but it had given me a sense of security to have that job, it had become a constant in my life. Wasn’t it silly to let go of it in favour of being a singer, with all the risks that carried? On the other hand, Ric clearly wanted this, she could hardly suppress bubbling over with excitement. Was I going to burst her dream by being too much of a coward? I imagined her dream draining from her face, and I screwed my eyes shut. Never! We would swim or sink together, our heads held high, and in each other’s arms. I scolded myself for even having to think about it.

“Ric?”

She looked up.

“Did Brenda leave the contracts behind?”

She indicated the side board, and I went to retrieve the