Escaping the Past - Part 2

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[Late March]

Martin was in a meeting at a London Trading House when he felt his phone vibrate. He’d set it on ‘silent’ before the meeting. From the nature of the vibration he knew he’d received a text message. His innate politeness stopped him from looking at the phone until the meeting was over.

It was more than an hour later before he could look at the message.

When he did so, he smiled. It was from Angela.

“Martin, come home please. Am sort of stuck”

He replied

“Understood. Tied up until 4. Back ASAP”

In the end, it was nearer 4:30pm before he left the Trading House Offices. Then he just missed one train and had to stand even in 1st class as far as Sevenoaks.

That meant that it was well after 6:30 pm before he arrived home. He still had no idea what ‘stuck’ meant. He was about to find out.

He entered the strangely dark house and called out.

“Angela! Where are you?”

He heard a noise from upstairs.

He climbed the stairs and asked again.

This time the noise told him that it was coming from her bedroom.

He went in and turned on the light.

Then he saw her sitting in a corner looking very sad.

On her head she had a large metal device part of which went inside her mouth stopping her from speaking.

Desperately trying not to laugh, he went over and helped her to her feet.

“This is a fine mess you have gotten yourself into.”
He laughed.

She glared at him.

“It’s ok. I was just laughing at my own joke. That was a line that Oliver Hardy used to say to Stan Laurel”.

Angela looked none the wiser.

All in all, she didn’t look very happy.

“Let’s get you out of here. Then I think we need to have a little talk.”

Without thinking, he led her by the hand downstairs and into his study.

The door to the cellar was open.

He smiled to himself and thought,
“Well, it took her long enough to find the key. There have to be some ground rules if this door is going to remain unlocked.”

He sat her down in his chair and went over to the small wall safe.

Making sure she couldn’t see him enter the combination, he opened it and removed a bunch of keys.

After he’d locked the safe once more, he went over to her and unlocked the steel contraption encasing her head.

“Thank you” she said once her mouth was free.

Then he handed her the set of keys.

“These are for you. If you want to play with the toys down in the cellar, then you must be able to get out again afterwards.”

“You mean,… You aren’t angry?”

He smiled back.

“I’m actually angry with myself in that I didn’t hide the cellar key better. Am I angry with you? No. All I saw was that a little temptation got the better of you.”

She looked relieved.

“Besides, when have I ever gotten angry with you?”

“Never,” came her slightly puzzled reply.

“So in future, if you want to play with the things down there, just be careful Ok?”

She nodded her head.

“What is this thing called?”

“That’s a Scolds bridle. It was used to control unruly wives in the 17th & 18th Centuries.”

Angela picked up the device and examined it.

“This is that old? It sure don’t look like it?”

“No. It is only a few years old, almost new in fact.“

“Is it yours?”

“No, my god no. All that stuff belonged to my ex. She was a ‘mistress’ when we met. Most of those toys down in the cellar were hers from that period.”
“Did you ever… you know?”

He laughed.

“Yes I’ve worn it a few times in the past. We did a lot of playing around when we first got together and a bit after we got married….”

She put the device down on the table.

“You really don’t mind me ‘playing’ as you put it?”

“Look, as I’ve told you before, consider this is your home now. There are only a few rules to remember. One this is my office room. You can come through here to go down to the cellar but if you come over to the desk, the alarm will go off. The second is that I won’t touch you or go into your room without your permission. I think that today was a bit of an exception.”

He smiled.

“I’m only trying to protect you.”
She looked at him strangely.

“Are you such an ogre?”

He chuckled.

“No I’m not but I’m a man and you are if you don’t mind me saying so a very beautiful woman. I respect you as a person and do not want to hurt you. That’s why there has to be some rules.”

She was about to reply ‘No, that’s not all. What are you hiding? Are you gay?” but she bit her lip and decided that this wasn’t the right time or place for that question.

She stood up and went to leave the room.

“Aren’t you forgetting something?”

She topped and stared at him.

Then she realised what he’d meant.

She went back to the desk, picked up the bridle and the set of keys. Then after giving him a slight smile, she went down into the cellar to put it away.

When she returned, Martin said,

“As you haven’t started dinner yet, why don’t we go out to a pub? I have something to discuss with you”

“Can we go to that place we went to before? I think it was called The Blackboys Inn? The food was nice there?”

He grinned back.

“Yes. Why not.”

She disappeared to get changed.

While she was gone, Martin had some time to reflect on the changes the Angela had undergone in her time at the house. The hard, abrasive and very defensive person who was a ‘Big Issue’ seller in London had all but disappeared. In its place was a far calmer and thoroughly more pleasant woman who had a good brain and at times, a very sharp wit. But there was a lot more to her than she was letting on.

He heard her coming down the stairs so he went into the hallway to meet her.

“Ready?” he asked.

“Yes. I’m famished. I was locked in that thing from the middle of the morning.”

He laughed.

She gave him a dirty look.

“Will you be wearing it again?” he teased.

“Maybe yes, maybe no”

He grinned. He was getting to like her, and like her a lot. That was going to be trouble unless he was very careful.

Over their meal, he outlined the help he needed from her the following week.

“I’m going to need a few things to wear if I’m to be ‘your bit of stuff’ as you so eloquently put it”

“Hardly my bit of stuff. Just my married assistant.”

“Still, I have to look the part if I’m going to carry this off.”

“Yes. I know it is going to cost me. How much do you think is it going to cost me?”

She grinned back.

“How much am I allowed to spend?”

Martin did a little bit of thinking.

“Pretty well as much as you want. Obviously no five grand LBD’s or Five hundred quid Jimmy Choo’s, but I’m relying on you to be sensible. You are playing the part of my assistant not a super model so you need to dress appropriately but not over top.”

The breadth of her smile was answer enough.

Angela went shopping the very next day with an evil grin on her face.

Almost five hours later she returned with several large bags and a satisfied grin on her face and a large debit balance on the household credit card.

Martin went to bed happy that night. One more step in her ‘normalisation’ had been achieved. The next ones did leave him with a good deal of anxiety even though he was not entirely sure what they were going to be.

[A week later]

Martin was waiting anxiously for Angela to come downstairs. She’d been up since well before dawn getting ready. They were going up to London together and Angela was going to act as his assistant in a series of meetings at a couple of clients.

After yet another anxious look at his watch, he heard her coming down the stairs.
He was most assuredly not prepared for that he saw.

She was wearing a knee length grey and black business dress. To say is was figure hugging would be an understatement. It was also very tight in the skirt so even walking down the stairs was a slow and deliberate job. The very high heels that she was wearing didn’t help that. On her legs was a pair of barely black stockings. The dress was so tight that it was pretty obvious that she wasn’t wearing any underwear whatsoever.

Her usual black wig was gone as well. In its place was a shoulder length blond ‘bob’. Add all the little touches and her look was totally stunning.

She had even gone to the trouble of buying and wearing a second hand engagement and wedding rings on her left hand ring finger.

“How do I look?”

He just grinned.

“Well Mrs. Angela, you look good enough to eat.”

She smiled.

“Well, I’m off the menu.”
“Yeah, I know, but I was…”

“I know what you meant. I’ll take it as a compliment.”

“Can you bring the rest of my stuff down? This outfit is not really conducive to carrying luggage.”
He chuckled and went upstairs to get her overnight bag.

As he came down, he wondered exactly how much money she had spent on the clothes for this little operation.

He carried a largish suitcase out to the car and loaded it in the back.

Angela meanwhile had slung her new coat over her shoulders, placed a pair of sunglasses in her hair and climbed in.

He returned to the house and locked up.

As he walked back to the car he saw her smiling at him.

The words ‘bloody contract’ passed through his mind as he returned her smile.

Angela despite her previous bravado was getting noticeably more nervous the closer they got to London.
“Don’t worry, you will be fine. You know what you have to do during the meeting.”

“I know but… But what if I meet some of my old clients?”

He chuckled.

“So? Do you really think that they will realise who you once were? Look at you know? You are worth a million dollars in anyone’s eyes.”

She didn’t answer.

“But the way, how much of my hard earned money did you spend?”

She whispered an answer. He couldn’t hear it.

“What was that again?”

“Just over twelve hundred quid.”

His mental ‘guestimate’ was closer to fifteen.

“That’s fine. If I get this deal, then I will easily be able to afford it.”
“I can take most of it back if you want me to?”

He turned to look at her.

“Do you want to take it back?”

There was no answer for a while.

Then she gave a small laugh.

“If you’d have said to me last November that I’d be dressed like this and enjoying myself I’d have said something unrepeatable to you. This will take a lot of getting used to but I may get to like it.”

She paused.
“That is another problem I’m not sure I want to face at the moment.”

He just grinned and thought, ‘perhaps all is not lost after all’.

Just after Midday, they pulled up outside their hotel. A uniformed doorman came out and opened the car doors for them both.

Martin handed him the keys.

“There are four bags in the back.”
“Yes sir.”

“We’ll be staying until tomorrow midday. Can you take care of the parking please?”

“Certainly Sir.”

There was a good deal of emphasis on the ‘Sir’ as Martin slipped him a £20.00 note.

On this trip, impressions were going to be everything.

Another uniformed porter took their bags up to their suite with them. Martin had booked a two-bedroom suite for the night. If he didn’t get the work, he was going to be seriously out of pocket.
The old saying ‘speculate to accumulate’ sprang to mind as he tipped the porter with another £20 note.

“Well, what do you think?”

She turned round slowly and looked at him.

“How much is this costing for one night?”

“Don’t ask. At least double what your outfits cost me.”
“How the other half live eh?”

“And us for tonight only.”

She grinned back.

“Have we time for lunch before the meeting?”

He laughed.

“I don’t mean to say the wrong thing but are you sure you could eat anything and still not burst out of that dress.”

Luckily for him, Angela took it in the right spirit.

“You might be right at that. I should have bought the size 10.”

“Just be careful. It will be a tad embarrassing if it were to split open during the meeting especially as you don’t seem to have anything on underneath.”

“I will be. Don’t worry.” She replied with a big grin on her face.

“Well, you did say that I was to flirt with some of them?”

“I certainly did and if I were in their shoes, I’d be wanting to take you to bed in an instant.”

She glared at him and was about to comment when she realised he’d said it in all seriousness. She took it as a real compliment. Then memories from her past came flooding back. Memories that she’d done her best to push into the darkest, deepest recesses of her mind. She gave a momentary shiver before regaining her composure.

An hour later, they were ushered into an oak panelled boardroom deep in the heart of Mayfair.

“Good Afternoon Gentlemen. I think we all know each other. May I introduce my assistant Mrs. Angela Jenkins? She will be taking some notes for me during the meeting.”

At least four of the grey suited men around the table got all hot and bothered as they introduced themselves.

“With the introductions over, let’s get into the main topic for discussion,” said Martin as he took centre stage.

There was a general nodding of heads around the table.

“As you know, I was asked to looking to your employee fraud prevention systems. As you all know, you estimate that it is costing the different companies in the group in excess of £20 million annually.”

More nodding of heads.

“Gentlemen, I am afraid to say that my very conservative estimate is that the true cost of the fraud is closer to £40 million annually.”

He put up the first of a series of slides that were going to explain the problem.

The next hour and a half went by very quickly for Angela. Martin was on his feet for most of the time talking about things that went right over her head. It was not her job to understand the facts and figures. Her job was to watch two of the eight men present and take notes of their reaction to certain facts when presented.

This didn’t stop her from starting to realise that Martin was a real star performer. This was the first time she’d seen him in full flow. It didn’t take her long to realise that he knew all the fact and figures from memory. At no time did he have to refer to his copious notes or the printed report that sat on the desk in front of him.

She did her job and observed the men’s reactions throughout the meeting. Two of them looked decidedly uncomfortable several times as Martin had expected.

As the end, Martin said,

“Gentlemen, are there any further questions before we wrap up?”

One of the men who’d looked decidedly uncomfortable turned to Angela and said,

“Mrs. Jenkins, what is your opinion of our situation?”

Angela smiled and mentally thanked Martin for briefing her well the previous day.

“Well, Mr. Francotti, from that I’ve heard here today, I’d say that two of your subsidiaries are if you’d pardon my language, up shit creek without a paddle. It seems obvious that at least two of the East of Scotland Sales Offices are riddled with corruption. The sales figures and bottom line profit are totally out of kilter with the rest of the business. Martin was very clear that your current systems are totally inadequate in preventing this degree of Stock Fraud while clamping down like a ton of bricks on errors as little at £1 in other areas. To paraphrase the Bard, ‘something is rotten in the State of Dundee’.”

The company chairman smiled broadly at her. He obviously liked her comment despite the fact that he’d been mentally undressing her almost every minute of the previous 90.

When the meeting broke up, a very relieved Angela and Martin left the offices. Once out in the street, Martin hailed a cab.
Angela touched his arm.

“I fancy a little walk. Green Park is not far away. I need a little air”, she asked.

Martin looked a little surprised.

“Ok. But are you going to be able to walk in those shoes? They are really for looking good in rather than taking a walk in the park?”

“I know but I just need to breath some fresh air. I didn’t realise how horrible, smelly and noisy London was until today.”

Martin grinned.

“Yeah, I know what you mean. It will be nice to get home tomorrow.”

As luck would have it, it came on to rain before they’d managed to cross Piccadilly. So they took shelter in a café.

“A Hot Chocolate and a mineral water please” said Martin to the waitress.

“Who's is the mineral water?” asked Angela.

“Yours. I rather like that dress on you so it would be nice to keep it, that is if you don’t take that as an insult.”

Angela grinned back.

What Martin didn’t know was that she had bought a larger sized one as well. They were going for 40% off in a Sale so just in case this one was really too tight, she’d purchased the second one. Still, she thought to herself, I rather like the way this one just fits everywhere. His words did worry her in one respect. He was starting to treat her like his girlfriend despite him keeping pretty well right to the letter and spirit of her contract.

She drank her mineral water in silence. Her stomach was rumbling gently so the thoughts of ordering room service upon their return to the hotel was not far from her mind

It was starting to get dark by the time they returned to their hotel.

Angela kicked off her shoes as soon as they entered the room.

“Why don’t you go and take a bath. We don’t have to be at the restaurant until eight,” suggested Martin.

“Don’t you want to know my report from the meeting?”

“There will be plenty of time for that. I’ll order a few snacks to tide us over. We probably won’t be eating until after nine.”

Angela desperately wanted to disagree but her feet said ‘pamper me’. It had been a long time since she’d worn heels that high and for that long. She gave in and headed off to the bathroom.

Nearly an hour later, she emerged feeling much better apart from her ever more noisy stomach.

Martin was nowhere to be seen but to her relief, set out on the table was an array of little snacks.

She selected some and sat down on one of the two huge sofas, put her feet up and started to watch some TV.

She thought that this would be a nice change as even though there was a TV back ‘home’, it was rarely on in the evenings. Most evenings they’d have dinner and talk for a while. Then she would clear away, do the washing up, ok, put the dishes in the dishwasher and switch it on. Then she would settle down and read a book. His library was very extensive in both size and range. After a while, she really didn’t miss a daily dose of TV.

After some 30 minutes and a huge amount of channel hopping, she realised why she didn’t miss it. There was nothing worth watching on despite her flicking through some 100+ channels. Long look at the EPG told her that there was only one thing on that night worth watching and that was an old Lana Turner movie that started well after midnight.

The clock on the TV told her that it was time to go and get ready. There was still no sign of him.

Slightly worried by this, she quietly opened the door to his room.

She opened it a tad.

Sure enough, there he was fast asleep.

She smiled and decided to let him sleep a bit longer.

She set a mental timer for 20 minutes. Then she’d wake him up regardless.

She sat down in front of the dressing table mirror on her room and started to get ready.

Before she knew it, the 20 minutes was up and she went into his room and gently shook him awake.

“Come on sleepy cat. Time to get ready.”
He opened his eyes and then shut them again tight.

“What’s wrong? Aren’t you pleased to see me?”

“Go away. You have nothing on.”

It was her turn feel embarrassed.

He was right. She was totally naked. She’d been like that since she’d emerged from her bath.

“Sorry. I just thought it was about time for you to get ready. Sorry.”
Then she fled back to her room.

She sat down in front of the mirror and tried to sort out what went wrong.

It didn’t take her long to realise what it was.

She was now totally used to spending most of the day doing her chores around the house without any clothes on when Martin wasn’t there and now that the house had been ‘fixed up’ and was nice and warm. It just felt totally natural to emerge from the bath and not bother to get dressed until she had too.

Angela sat there for a few minutes unsure what to do. It bothered her that she’d gone back to wearing little or nothing so quickly. It bothered her even more that Martin was being the perfect gentleman despite her foo-pahs and frankly blatant taunting of the poor man over the past few months.
She made herself a resolution. After that night, she’d stop that and try to be a more normal person.

Dead on time at 19:45, Angela walked out of her bedroom, dressed to kill.

Her LBD with the L meaning LONG and fitting her like a glove. A pair of long black ‘opera’ gloves adorned both arms. Her only jewellery was a five strand pearl and silver choker with a matching broach on her left breast and matching single pearl earrings.

A black patent clutch bag containing a few essentials was in her left hand.

The final touch of magic was the last minute addition of velvet ‘Alice’ band in her hair.

“I’m ready!” she announced.

Martin was waiting for her in a pure White DJ complete with white Bow Tie.

“You look fantastic, but it appears that I pay my assistant far too much money,” remarked a grinning Martin.

Angela did a twirl. This revealed that the full skirt was slit right up to the top of the thigh in at least two places.

“Do you approve?”

“I do. I do indeed.”

“Well then let’s go. I’m famished.”

Martin sighed. Angela had demolished the plates of Tapas that Room Service had delivered earlier and still she was still hungry.

He took her arm and after checking his wallet, they left the room and headed downstairs.

Their ‘Limo’ for the evening was waiting for them outside.

The doorman helped Angela into the vehicle and in return got a good view of her stocking clad legs.

He returned to his post a very happy person as well as another £20.00 richer. Views like that made his job very rewarding.

The Limo took them to Westminster Pier where their ‘Dinner Boat’ was waiting. All the other guests were already aboard so they’d hardly stepped off the walkway before the ropes were ‘let go’ and their evening began in earnest.

All of the men at the afternoon meeting were there. Many were with their partners. Angela knew from the afternoon that she would have to play hard to get if only to avoid some potentially nasty run ins with the ‘wives and partners’ of the men.

Martin handed her a glass of Champagne and whispered to her,

“Just go easy on the booze.”

“Yes boss.”

They mingled amongst the other people on the boat until it was time for dinner to be served.

Just before nine and with the former ‘Millennium Dome’ off the starboard bow, the gong sounded, announcing the serving of dinner.

Angela spotted Martin in the crowd. She started to hang back but he waved her forward.
Still not quite sure where she was going, she entered the dining room. Everyone had pre-assigned seats at the table. Along with many people, she wandered along the aisle between the tables looking for her assigned place.

It took her less than a minute to discover her seat. Feeling relieved, she plonked herself down.
A good many other diners were still locating their seats. Angela looked around for Martin. He was at the far end of her table. He smiled at her from afar. A few butterflies committed ‘hara-kiri’ in her stomach at the same time. She really wanted him to be closer even though they’d spent hours going over seemingly every detail of the role she was to play that evening.

Her thoughts were interrupted by one of the men who’d been at the meeting earlier sitting down opposite to her.

Angela smiled at him.

He tried to smile back. He was not very successful.

Before she could engage him in conversation, another man sat down next to her.

“We meet again Ms. Jenkins.”

Angela shook his offered hand.

“Good evening Mr. Moffatt. It seems we do indeed meet again.”

Before he’d even settled down he whispered in her ear,

“What say you and me duck out of this and enjoy the moonlit night out on Deck. It can be very romantic.”

Angela immediately felt like punching him on the nose right there and then. Luckily, she held back.
Under the table, she used her 5in pointed heel of her left shoe as an unseen substitute.

Alec Moffatt winced in pain.

Angela gave him a little smile that said,

“Try that again buster and it won’t be your foot that gets hurt I am a happily married woman.”

Just then, her ‘target’ or ‘person of interest sat down on her right.

“Hello Ms. Jenkins. You are looking ever more radiant tonight.”

“Hello Mr. Griffiths. It is nice to see you again.”

“Just call me Charlie please! Like the Fast Bowler.”

“Eh?”

He looked startled.

He picked up his striped tie.

“MCC. Just got in last year. Charlie Griffith was a West Indian Fast Bowler who played in the late 1960’s. I used to go to Lords to see him when I was a child.”

“I’m sorry Charlie, I don’t follow.”

That was a lie. Martin had briefed her about the game of Cricket and in particular the MCC. Charlie was the man he’d briefed her about.

Angela sat back and let Charlie spout forth until it was time for the first course.

All the time he’d been speaking, Angela was playing footsie with the man opposite. He was trying to do everything possible to avoid contact with her patent clad foot.

She smiled at him. He tried to look everywhere but back at her.

Then she knew it, he was ‘gay’.

She made polite chatter all evening with ‘Charlie’. Despite them playing ‘footsie’ under the table, he gave nothing away all night.

Back in their hotel room, Angela kicked off her heels and sat down on the sofa and rubbed her feet.

“It’s been a very long time since I've worn heels that high and for that long,” she remarked for the second time that day.

Then she laughed at what she’d just said.

“What’s so funny?”

“I said those very words to myself after the meeting earlier.”

He joined in with a laugh but then he said,

“Then you’d better practice a bit then,” quipped Martin

“And why would that be?”

“Well, I’ve invested a good deal of hard earned money in those clothes. It would be a shame not to get my monies worth from now wouldn’t it?”

“Hmm. I suppose you have at that”

“Good. Then its settled then.”

“Hey wait a minute what about today?”

“What do you mean?”

“Did you sort out their problems? Did you get the job?”

“Oh yeah. I was pretty well all signed sealed and delivered before today”

“Then why the fuck did you get me to partake in that charade?”

“Because my dear Angela, it is all down to image. I only had to win over the chairman and you my friend Angela did that marvellously. Not only were you the beautiful secretary come assistant but you did the chairman a big favour by stomping on that idiot’s Moffatt’s foot. He’s no friend of the Chairman. So that really clinched it. He had a good laugh over that.”

Angela didn’t even begin to understand what Martin had just said. All that she did know was that her foot stomping had by some freak of chance been the right thing to do.

Angela knew one thing though and that was that she was rather hurt by the deception though. She felt a bit ‘used’.

Without thinking, she said angrily,

“Don’t ever use me like that again without telling me the reason why, the full monty not half the full story.”

“Hey, didn’t you enjoy the attention?”

Angela had to admit that she’d enjoyed the day even though her feet hurt like blazes.

“I did for a bit but being this glamorous comes at a cost you know. Would you massage my feet? They hurt like blazes.”

Martin sat on the end of the sofa and gently massaged her stocking clad feet for well over an hour until she fell asleep.

When her breathing steadied, Martin stood up and went into her bedroom and returned with the bedspread and draped it over her inert form.

Then he went to bed.

The following morning Martin awoke very early. Angela was still prone on the couch just where he’d left her the previous night.

He smiled at her when he saw her sleeping form.

He returned to his room and got dressed. When he returned, there was still no signs of movement from Angela so he ignored her and ordered breakfast from ‘room service’.

Some twenty minutes had passed and the arrival of breakfast was imminent. Martin then decided to gently tickle her feet until she woke up.

“Morning sleepyhead.”

“Uh?”

“I said good morning.”

“What time is it?”

“A little after nine.”

Suddenly she sat up.

“We’ve got to check out,” she said still not quite awake.

“Hold on Angela. We’ve until noon to check out. Besides, I’ve ordered Breakfast. It should be here in a few minutes.

“I must go and change.”

“By all means. Take your time.”

“It’s all right for you. I have a lot more things to do before I’m ready.”

“Ha-ha”

She glared at him. Then she headed for her room, the skirt of her dress flying everywhere.

A little over an hour later, Angela presented herself in the main part of the suit.

“Ready for something to eat?” asked Martin.

“Yes. But don’t sound so cheerful.”

“Why not. The world is a fine place. Thanks to in no small part to you; I’ve enough work for the next 6 to 9 months. So tell me why shouldn’t I be cheerful?”

“Pah,” was Angela’s only comment as she tucked into the assorted goodies on the Breakfast tray.

Just before midday the pair checked out of the hotel and drove home.

As Martin turned off the main road towards the house, he said,

“Thanks again Angela. You did everything perfectly. If you would like to there could be more events like that.”

She didn’t reply. In fact, she didn’t say anything until they’d unloaded the car and were inside the house once more.

“I’d like that very much. Thank you for involving me in your work.”

“I’ll try to do it a bit more then.”

Martin just smiled in reply.

[about a week later]

Martin was working in his office and Angela was changing the Winter Curtains for the Summer ones in the room upstairs when the phone rang.

“Hello,” said Martin.

“Oh hi Babs. Thanks for getting back to me.”

“Yes. I owe you two. So how’s about both of you coming over for Sunday Lunch.”

“Ha-Ha. Yes, I do. She’s been here since the beginning of December. Her name is Angela.”

“You’ll just have to make you own mind up on Sunday.”

“Yeah. You too. Bye.”

His smiling face said everything. That was one phone call he’d been looking forward to.
After finishing something on his computer he went in search of Angela.

He found her in his Bedroom. She’d just finished swapping the curtains.

“Angela, can I have a word please?”

“Yeah sure. I’ve just about done up here.”

“We have two guests coming over for lunch on Sunday.”

“Friends of yours?”

“Yeah. They are two very nice people. Lawyers. The have their offices in the village. They are neighbours of ours actually.”

Angela stood there waiting.

“Well?”

“What?”

“Aren’t you going to tell me some more?”

Martin smiled.

“I was trying to find the right words. Their names are Jo and Babs. They are women and they live together.”

“Are you trying to say that they are Lesbians?”

“Sort of.”

“I’m ok with that if that’s what you are concerned about?”

“Yes, yes I am.”

“Thanks for letting me know.”

Martin felt relieved.

“I’ll do the cooking. All you have to do is to look nice.”

“The trophy wife role again eh?”

“No. Not in the slightest. Just be yourself. They won’t bite. Besides, they know you are my housekeeper.”

Angela smiled.

“Now get the hell out of here or this housekeeper won’t be cooking you any food tonight.”

“Ok. Ok, I can take the hint”.

[The following Sunday]

Angela was busying herself in the kitchen when she heard the crunch of footsteps on gravel. She looked up and out the window. Two people were walking towards the house. They’d come up the garden.

Angela cried out, “Martin! Two people are coming up the garden path”.

“That’s ok. They are our guests,” he called back from the upstairs where he'd gone to get changed after preparing the food for Lunch.

“I’ll be down in a minute. Let them in and play hostess.”

Angela’s thoughts at that moment were unprintable.

She put down the saucepan that she’d been carrying and opened the back door.
“Hello. You must be Babs and Jo?”

“That’s us,” said Babs.

“I’m Babs. This is Joanna or Jo for short.”

“Please come on in.”

The two came into the kitchen. They were both carrying large plastic carrier bags.
Jo gave hers to Angela.

“Please be a dear and hold that while I get these boots off.”

Angela stood there dumbfounded.

Babs noticed this.

“Its’ ok Angela. Martin and us two old dears go back years. We live in the house beyond this one. Coming over the garden is the easiest way. The downside is the stream that we have to cross at the bottom of our gardens. Hence the wellies. We have a change of clothes in these bags.”

Jo had removed her coat and her pair of ‘red spotted wellies’.

“Thanks.”

Then they left her alone in the kitchen.

She heard them going upstairs.

Angela thought, what the fuck just happened.

Two women had breezed in and through her kitchen without as much as a 'by your leave'.

A good 10 minutes later Martin and their guests came downstairs. Both Martin and Babs had evil smiles on their faces. This didn’t go unnoticed by Angela.

They sat down and waited while she served the first course, Gravlax and Salad.

At the end of an excellent meal, Martin said,

“Chloe is coming for tea.”

“Since when?” said Angela angrily, momentarily distracted from her problems.

“Since just before Lunch. Jo persuaded me to ask her to visit”

“What if she’s doing something else? Something with her family?”

“She won’t be doing anything.”

“How far will she have to travel?” asked Angela/

Martin realised that he’d nowhere to go now. He had to come clean.

“Angela, she won’t have to go anywhere. I’m Chloe. There I’ve said it. I’m Chloe.”

Then it clicked.

“Oh fuck. I never saw that one coming. Sorry for that.”

“Well, do you want to meet Chloe or not?”

Martin was getting desperate now.

Then he dug the hole he was in a whole lot deeper.

“Angela, I love you. I have done ever since we had that trip to London. I saw the real you and I can’t get you out of my mind, but part of me is Chloe and you have to know about her.”

“If this is some ploy to get inside me into bed then you are rudely mistaken?”

“No. No it’s not that at all.”

Then it was Martin’s turn to start weeping.

Angela saw that his emotion was genuine. She was also unsure how to handle it.

In the end, she came back to the kitchen table and gently took hold of his hand.
They sat there for some time silent. Each of them totally immersed in their own thoughts and trying to understand what to do next.

Eventually, Angela said.

“Yes, I’d like to meet Chloe, to find out where she’s been hiding all this time. I’m….”

“Angela, take your time and give Chloe a chance,” said Jo.

Then she took hold of Bab’s hand and looked lovingly into her eyes before saying,

“We both had real problems coming to terms with our sexuality. Now we are truly comfortable with our life.”

“What’s so hard about being Lesbians? I’ve known plenty of them who are really in your face in London?”

“Angela,” said Babs.

“We are both like Chloe.”

This was too much for Angela to take. She fled into the kitchen.

Martin came into the kitchen soon after.

“I knew you weren’t telling me everything!” she exclaimed.

“I know and I’m sorry. I’ve wanted to tell you for several weeks but kept chickening out. Babs threatened to tell you herself unless I told you today.”

She tried to say something but the words just would not come out.

He went down into the cellar and opened the hidden wardrobe where ‘Chloe’s’ things were kept.
With an armful of clothes and carrying a large makeup bag, he quietly went upstairs. Be put everything onto his bed and then returned to the kitchen.

Angela was still sitting there where he’d left her.

Martin said quietly,

“Angela, Chloe would appreciate some help in getting dressed. It has been a long time since she has put any makeup on.”

She didn’t say anything.

Gently, he took hold of her left hand with his right one.

She didn’t resist as he led her upstairs and into his bedroom.

“Where… Where were these clothes? I cleaned out all your drawers and things after the builders were in fitting the new windows.”

“There is another wardrobe down in the Cellar. Chloe’s things are kept in there.”

She saw herself in the mirror. She’d stopped crying now.

“God I look a mess.”

“You look as beautiful as ever.”

“Don’t give me that crap.”

“It is true Angela. I realised that once you’d cleaned up on your very first day here. Then you were a real knockout in that grey and black dress. When I saw you in it, I almost keeled over. You are a beautiful and intelligent woman and don’t let anyone tell you otherwise.”

“That’s as maybe. We are not here to talk about me. Where’s this Chloe character then?”

Martin smiled. There is nothing like a bit of OTT praise to perk a woman’s spirits up.

“Which outfit do you think she should wear?”

“Where is she going to go this rainy Sunday afternoon?”

“Perhaps Angela might like to take her out for a meal tonight? After all, she did spend a lot of time in the kitchen already today.”
Angela gave him a weak smile in return. She was having doubts about Martin's ability to 'pass' in Public.

“If I don’t think Chloe’s up for it then we’ll stay in ok? And I'll make supper?”

“Absolutely. She wouldn’t have it any other way.”

Angela bent over and pulled out a long black knitted dress. It had a high roll collar.

“Let’s start with this one.”
“Ok. Can you sort out the makeup whilst Chloe scrubs her face clean?”

Angela gave him a little nod of agreement.

Martin went into his bathroom and had a shave, his second of the day. While he was doing so, he tried to understand where things went wrong at lunchtime. Clearly the smell of his ‘come’ of Bab’s lips was the tipping point. The only positive he could think of about the whole episode was that at least he’d told Angela of his feelings but if she’d even heard it was another question entirely.

A few minutes later, he sat down in front of the mirror in his bedroom.

“Well Chloe, this lot of makeup was once upon a time ok but now? Well frankly it is only worth putting in the bin. Most of the foundation has dried up so we shall have to make do with what we’ve got.”

Martin smiled back. He was pleased at her use of ‘Chloe’.

Chloe stripped off all her horrid male clothes and put on a clean pair of knickers and hooked up a front closing bra around her chest.

She stuffed a pair of false breasts inside the cups. Then she pulled the dress on over her head.

“How do I look?”

Angela chuckled.

“Like a frigging man in a dress. How else should I answer?”

Chloe smiled and sat down in front of the mirror.

Angela began her work. Her skill with makeup was soon very evident.

Half an hour later, she pronounced that she was done.

“Well Chloe, with a bit more work, you could be quite pretty”

Chloe felt completely different.

She opened a plastic bag and pulled out a light brown ‘bobbed’ wig.

“This is just perfect for that dress,” commented Angela as she put a comb through it.

Soon, it was in place and Chloe was nearly ready.

“I’ll let you finish off. I need to sort myself out now.”

Angela left him alone.

Then he heard the door to Angela’s room slam shut.

Chloe tiptoed along the landing to her door.

She could hear Angela inside swearing and cursing over the sound of the latest ‘one hit wonder boy band’ on the Radio.
The words “Why me” were repeated many times.

Gradually the sounds of her remonstrations subsided.

Chloe crept back to her (or rather his) bedroom.

She put on a pair of black tights and a pair of medium height shoes.

Quietly she went downstairs and into the warmth of the kitchen. The Aga made the room nice and toasty even on the coldest days. Babs and Jo had left them to it now that Chloe was now out in the open.

She put the kettle on to boil while she set too and cleared away the remains of the Lunch things.

The kettle boiled noisily and Chloe made a pot of Chamomile Tea. This was a favourite of Angela’s.

As it was brewing, the kitchen door opened. Angela came into the room. Her makeup had been repaired and she’d changed into a long skirt and matching a sweatshirt top.

“Just in time for some tea” suggested Chloe.

“Thank you. I could do with some.”

She sat down opposite Chloe.

Chloe poured the tea into her favourite mug. She poured herself one too.

Angela sat for a long while with her hands wrapped around the mug. She didn’t say anything.

She drank some of the tea.

“Where do we go from here?”

“What do you mean?” asked Chloe.

“I thought we were getting along so well. Then you go and mess with my brain by coming out as a tranny and then you top it all by telling me that you loved me. I was so happy just being here and… Just being here and safe and in the warm, well warmer now that I got this place fixed up a bit. But safe and earning a bit of cash as well. It was a good gig.”

“And now?” asked Chloe very concerned about the use of the word ‘was’.

“I really don’t know. If I had somewhere to go, I’d probably have left earlier but I couldn’t for some reason.”

She stopped.

“Sorry, I’m rambling”

“No Angela. It’s all right. I didn’t plan on today turning out like this that is for sure.”

She drank some more of the tea.

“I guess you didn’t. I think we both said a few things we didn’t mean, you know before.”

“All forgotten. Now we are here. You and Me. Trying to talk things over like to sane adults.”

“Sane? That’s a laugh.”

“Why?”

“Look at you?”

“Me?”

“Yeah. I got halfway through putting your makeup on then I realised that you were ok. Comfortable in yourself and at ease despite everything that had gone on. I realised that Martin was a front for the real person and frankly that has scared me shitless.”

“Why? Why would I scare you shitless?” asked Chloe softly.

“I’m so bloody jealous of you.”

This admission really shocked Chloe.

“Why would you be jealous of me?”

“Didn’t you hear a word I’ve just said? As Chloe, you are totally comfortable in yourself. As Martin, there was always something holding you back, something about you that didn’t quite fit. Then as I put that make-up on you, you changed before my very eyes. Gone was the edginess and everything. It made me scared, shit scared.”

She sat there looking at her now empty mug.

“Did you mean it? Telling me that you loved me?”

“Yes. Do you think I’d say it if I didn’t?”

“I wish you hadn’t done that. It ruins everything. I’m not sure what to do now. Part of me says get the hell out of here but the rest of me says stay. To stay and try to get to know Chloe, the real you but I’m scared that I might fall in love with you.”

She sat looking at the table.

Chloe poured some more Tea for Angela.

“Is that such a bad thing? You know falling in love with me?”

Then Chloe added,

“Am I really that scary?” asked Chloe.

“No. Chloe. It’s not you. Its me.”

Chloe felt sad inside. She’d heard the ‘It’s me not you’ line from her ex a week before she walked out on him with everything of value she could stuff into her car. Only the sterling work of Babs and Jo had gotten most of it back in the Divorce.

“It’s me Chloe. I know this sounds corny but ever since I was thirteen or fourteen, I’ve had one disaster after another in relationships with one piss awful man after another. They all seemed to only want one thing.”

“So that’s why you…”

“Yeah, that’s why I told you not to even think about getting inside my panties.”

Angela chuckled.

“You didn’t even try and after a month or so, I knew that you weren’t such a bad person at all”

“So Martin is not all bad then?”

“No. No he isn’t. Maybe that’s why I stayed. He tried very hard to make me feel at home, part of his family. That was nice. Looking at it now, that was a pleasant change. He went out of his way not to try to get me to do anything I didn’t want to do.”

Chloe laughed.

“What’s so funny?”

“I think that ‘don’t mess with me’ should be carved on your gravestone.”

They both had a good laugh at that.

“Anyway, I’m glad you didn’t go. Are you going to give me a chance? A chance to prove that I can love you and not hurt you?”

Once again Angela didn’t say anything for some time.

She drank the now nearly cold remains of her second cup of tea.

“Is Chloe planning on staying around for a while?”

“I guess so if that’s what you want?”

She shook her head.

“No. It’s what Chloe wants that matters.”

It was soon obvious that they were going round and round in circles and not getting any further. Chloe gave up and went to bed thinking that perhaps if Angela slept on it, they might make some progress in the morning.

The morning came and Angela wasn’t in the mood to talk things over despite Chloe’s attempts to get her to speak. In the end, she had to give up as she had some work to do and Angela went out without saying where she was going.

For a moment, Chloe was concerned that Angela was leaving for good but she just put on her coat and went out.

Angela returned well after Lunch. She walked right into the ‘office’ where Chloe was struggling to get anything productive done.

“I’m staying.” Angela announced.

“If Chloe stays, I’m staying.”

Chloe was rather taken aback by her abruptness.

“But…”

Angela put up her hand to stop her.

“Ok, I know that Martin has to be around some of the time. But I want a relationship with Chloe. A lesbian relationship.”

“Eh? A lesbian relationship?”

“Yeah, but I don’t do cocksucking. I’ve done more than enough of that in my old life.”

Chloe was amazed at her directness.

“Babs told me a lot of interesting things about you, them and stuff. That’s where I’ve been. At lot of things make sense now. According to Jo, your ex was jealous like me and couldn’t handle it. So she got her own back by going off with your only really close male friend.”

Angela sat down and took hold of Chloe’s hand.

“I know it won’t be easy for both of us. For me especially. I have to overcome a bit phobia I have about commitment. But I want us to at least try.”

“Besides, your ex. Babs said that it didn’t last. She cleaned him out as well. I’m not like that. I’ve had enough ‘bad’ things in my life. I’m determined to make this different. To give us a chance.”

Chloe sat there dumbfounded. She’d fully expected Angela to return, pack her bags and leave him alone once more. The change in her attitude, and everything was dramatic.

Chloe leaned over and hugged Angela. Then for the first time they kissed. They kissed long and hard.

Chloe went to bed that night thinking hard about the events of the day and how her life had changed. Despite her reservations, she decided to give this ‘gig’ a go. Eventually she fell asleep realising that she hadn’t given Chloe or Martin and answer to his declaration of love for him. She had a few demons that needed exorcising before she could move on with her life.

[To be continued]

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Comments

I like this

Christina H's picture

with a capital L

Christina

They seem to be a couple,

They seem to be a couple, except the both of them do have a lot to work on now and for in the future. Will Chloe be able to take over Martin's work, as s/he does work mostly from home? Hopefully the two of them will be able to work it out just as Babs and Jo have.

Not a Lesbian

It is doubtful that an XY brain will ever understand an XX brain very well. My own X, whom I'd been married to for 39 years, said that she was not a lesbian after she found out about me. That was it then. It all went into the loo.

After I began to adapt to the idea that I was "different", it always seemed to me that a Tman should be attracted to a Twoman, seems logical, right? For me, it has never seemed to work out that way. Perhaps just too much narrow minded, ass hole, puritanistic, Amish brainwashing in me.

It seems like the genetic women I have met are peevish, selfish, self centered, snotty, but delightful when they wish to be.

It seems like the best a transgender woman can hope for is a very close friend and companion who is perhaps a transgender woman herself. There is also a high incidence of folk that are along the autism spectrum somewhere. We make the stupid assumption that there are XX and XY brains when I think it is likely that there are thousands of types of brains, most of which fall loosely at one side or the other of the cosmic divide. As to this transgender business, it seems to occur in various degrees from a mildly feminine male to a full on hard core person who is absolutely, militantly woman in her own mind, and that is where I suppose I reside, though I would still love to ride a big road bike. :) Truthfully though, I think many of the uber masculine things I have done were an effort to prove to myself and others that I was who they imagined me to be, never giving thought to who I actually was until I was fully bound and gagged and left that way until I relented.

Tapping my foot until the next episode. :) Grinning as I gaze at the flogger and locking collar hanging on the wall above my desk.

Gwen

Nope

Disagree. That it is the strongest I'll say.


"Life is not measured by the breaths you take, but by the moments that take your breath away.”
George Carlin

Truth revealed

Jamie Lee's picture

Angela now understands why she felt something was holding Martin back. Something which caused her pause and questioning her accepting what she learned.

Her reluctance to stay and become closer with Chloe stems from her life experience. Something which can be hard to overcome. But something Angela is willing to work through and stay with Chloe/Martin.

Change can be hard, and rewarding in the end.

Others have feelings too.

I don't get it

All this speaking of themselves in the third person gets me confused. For myself at least, there is only one me. When I was a child "me" was almost 100% male, with just a bit of female peeking out. As I grew older, the male side steadily faded away while I became more female. By the time I graduated from high school my male side was just a costume, the real me was 100% trans woman and 100% lesbian, with a lesbian GF.

But there was none of this separation like Martin and Chloe, it was always 'me'. "I" bought a cute new blouse or I went to Boy Scout Summer Camp. I think trying to make their halves as separate people suggests a degree of mental confusion.


"Life is not measured by the breaths you take, but by the moments that take your breath away.”
George Carlin