With Ally the only out lesbian student, the school had taken some steps to keep other parents from complaining. Ally was moved from the dorm to a private room and bath. It wasn’t in the faculty wing but had belonged to the housekeeper who lived in town and never used the space anyway. And, on top of her participating in the computer club, physics club, and playing on the lacrosse team, they set mandatory counseling sessions twice weekly. These weren’t to persuade her back into the fold but to help her adjust to her alternative lifestyle. Shy, she suffered through these sessions, while Pam used the opportunity, and Ally’s private room, to explore her own “Sapphic fad” as she would call it. It would be years before Pam could admit she had been unfair, letting Ally take the fallout, both at school and at home. By then Ally could only agree it wasn’t nice but it was in the past, and what the hell, she got a private room out of the deal and some of the counseling had helped her learn who she was and more about what she wanted from life. Pam had once admitted she envied how together her cousin was by graduation. Ally had come to peace with herself and her orientation early in life. Something Pam would fight for years.
Allyson and Pamela, born just three weeks apart, had mothers who had rebelled against the strong and powerful Parker family, marrying young and getting pregnant before either was ready for motherhood. By the time they delivered, Allyson’s mom was heading to divorce court, and Pamela’s wasn’t far behind. Both returned home to the Parker estate, settled deep in the woods of Highland Creek. As the girls began to grow, and with no sons or grandsons to mentor, their grandfather, a shrewd media mogul who appeared to own a crystal ball, took the girls under his wing and mentored them for business and leadership. And he did something else. Intuitively understanding that with the changes in technology the current world of print media now had an expiration date, he started selling off the newspapers and magazines he controlled, early and at top value. And he instilled the knowledge in the girls that their career and futures were truly in their hands. “The future is going to look much different than it does now,” he would say, encouraging them to follow their dreams.
Now, back at Glendennon Castle, Ally had to thank him for being different in his treatment of them. He could have sent them off to some Swiss finishing school, a fate many of their classmates had suffered, but he’d refused, even when their mothers insisted. “No one on the board of General Motors attended a damned finishing school and neither will my grandchildren!” They both knew they were lucky to have him on their side. When Pam applied to and was accepted by Harvard Law, he had backed her and helped pave the way. Ally too was in his debt. Attending the University of Toronto required top marks, and the engineering school, with its anti-female reputation and the impact of its male students’ association, the Brute Force Club, had a big say in just who survived. And they made it their business to bully Allyson. So much so, she was on the verge of quitting in her second year. When she finally admitted what was happening at school, he ordered her to stay the course. It wasn’t the response she expected, but she respected him and was desperate to earn his respect in return.
It wasn’t until the following Christmas break when Pam was home, and the two of them were skiing the immaculately groomed cross-country trails in what Granddad called the back forty, when they spotted surveyors. That night at dinner, he waved off their query, explaining merely that they had too much property to bother with, so he had deeded a portion of the vast eight-thousand-acre estate to the abutting college grounds. It was years before his granddaughters learned the true reason for the severance. He had met with the Chancellor of the University, demanding an end to the Brute Force Club and their shenanigans as a condition of the re-deeding of his property. The very next day, the club, like all the fraternities before them, lost its charter and was banned from association with the university. The cost to secure this agreement was eight hundred acres of virgin forest desperately needed to expand the Scarborough campus. That was just like him. Backroom deals and life-changing agreements happened over drinks, and he never said a word. While not all the sexism in the engineering school ceased immediately, losing their charter spelled the end of the Brute Force Club and their all-male ideology. Ally could only thank him for all he had done. Granddad’s only concession to his involvement had been a toast that New Year’s Eve: “Change is inevitable. Although change sometimes needs a nudge, on other occasions it requires a great big push along with a good kick in the pants.”
* * *
Erin tried not to look like a wilting flower, but the heat of the lights and the growing excitement of the other women was wearing on her. She kept her place in line, with her four oversized playing cards tucked under her arm.
Instead of having just one camera person record the votes of each contestant, the production people had set up two camera stations. The contestants didn’t need to speak, so while the small digital video cameras could record audio, it was their job to stand on the mark placed on the floor and silently display the cards of the three queens they were most interested in getting to know. Temporary dividers had been raised to allow them some privacy in their vote, and a handwritten sign was tacked to the wall, outlining when and what they were supposed to do.
When it was her turn, Erin sucked in a breath and took her mark. The sign said she was to say her name clearly, then, with an earnest look, display all four cards before discarding one. With just her three cards left, she was to stand before the camera for a minimum of sixty seconds—two minutes if she could remain still. With shaking hands, she announced her name, as the caption read, “Hi, I’m Erin from Wisconsin.” Then she raised the four oversized cards and fanned them out. She then did as Connie had instructed, waiting the requisite sixty seconds discarding Virginia’s card, the Queen of Spades. She remained standing for the two minutes, trying to keep the stoic look requested, then exited the mock voting booth to find a PA standing by with large manila envelopes at the ready. They would seal her three cards away for the next vote and hold them to keep the other contestants from learning just who they had chosen.
Erin was still unnerved as she walked to the open bar, helping herself to the champagne one of the uniformed PAs was pouring for them. It wasn’t her thing, but she had to admit she felt she’d earned a celebratory glass. This whole undercover gig felt harder than taking statements from victims of crime. Not that she was suffering, but truly, this was starting to feel too real. That, and being pressed into spy duties not just for her boss Pam, but the director too.
Shrugging off her bout of nerves, Erin strolled over to a group of women who had finished voting and stood on the edge of the group to listen to their debate. Would they learn the fate of the queens tonight? Would they know which one was going home? And what about themselves? When did the remaining queens begin paring down their choices? What if the queens they chose were not interested in them? So many questions. She, too, could admit she had a few, but even as an insider Erin knew she would have to wait and see just like the rest. And this was only day one!
It took a few hours but finally the voting was over and Connie joined them, exclaiming to the group, “You’ve done it! You have chosen the queens you like best. Now it’s time to learn who has been eliminated and who you will get to know over the next week. Before we film the elimination sequence, I want all of you to be sure you’re looking great, and each of you has a glass of champagne in your hands. The PAs are going to move each of you into position for the cameras, but I want you to know what a great job you’re doing and how amazing you all look. Tonight, we will introduce the surviving queens and you will have time, as a group, to speak with them. Be warned: there is no one-on-one time tonight. It’s just a chance to introduce yourselves again and chat. Tomorrow, we’ll begin bright and early, breakfast will be served at seven. Then we’ll break into three groups for activities, and you will each have time in the morning and afternoon to spend more time with these amazing women. Tomorrow will be your chance to shine in their eyes because tomorrow evening the
remaining queens will vote for the contestants they want to get to know best.
“Now I want to go over the format for tomorrow night’s ceremony. Each of the queens will be here in the ballroom, and each will be handing out a symbolic gift. But here’s the catch. If a queen offers you their gift, you can accept and take your place in her group or if you have decided you would rather get to know a different queen you can cause an upset by refusing her gift. Here’s the thing. If any of the queens choose you, you are in the finals. That’s it. Even if you refuse a queen’s gift. What you’ll do is walk to the queen who has chosen you, but instead of accepting her gift you will bypass her and take your place behind the woman you like best. It doesn’t matter how many contestants are already in that group. Being chosen by any of them means you’re in. Any questions?” The room exploded with everyone sharing thoughts, concerns, confusion, and questions. Connie took time to answer them all.
Erin could only marvel at the concept and how it would come off on TV. If viewers thought there were twists and turns on Survivor, their minds would blow with this. She couldn’t imagine what it would be like for one of the queens to select a contestant and have her walk right by to join another queen, but it would make for great TV. Thank goodness, Pam’s ego could take any upset that came along. She could only hope it was the same for the other two. Erin instantly worried about Pam’s cousin. From all Pam had told her, Ally was very sensitive. How would she take it if none of the women were interested in her? Pam had said most women didn’t go for Ally. No, she didn’t have a model’s stature like Pam did, and maybe she didn’t have the same success in her career, but she seemed genuinely nice. She would hate to hurt someone like that. The last thing she wanted was to be one of the ones who walked right past her to join Pam’s group. Oh Ally, I hope you’re tougher than you look.
Chapter Six
Erin tossed and turned all night. She was sharing a dorm room with five other women and two of them she had pegged as gold diggers. She’d named them Twit-One and Twit-Two. Then there was Abby, the nice nurse, Terry, the IT woman and Sue, the glass-half-empty woman who hadn’t stopped bitching since they arrived. Between Abby’s snoring and the gold diggers whispering all night, sleep was something she would have to go without.
Deciding a stretch and a short walk might help, Erin slipped from her bed, only then realizing Sue and Terry were absent. Maybe Abby’s snoring had driven them from bed too. Heading for the long dorm hallway, she paused at the joint bathroom. Even with the door closed, she could hear the two women inside. Deciding it was her job to snoop on their conversation, it only took a second to realize they weren’t talking, at least not the kind of conversation two platonic friends should have. Not sure what to do, Erin slunk back to bed, careful not to alert the other women to her wakefulness or her knowledge that they had just broken the number one rule of the competition. No nookie unless it was with their chosen queen. Irritated and upset, she pulled the covers up and begged the gods of sleep and snoring women to let her get some rest. She had no idea what the next day would bring or if she should tell Connie, or Pam for that matter, of her discovery.
* * *
Ally stood beside Pam and Rene at the foot of the Whitby docks, where three sleek sailboats were tied alongside. Together they watched as the contestants were unloaded from the charter bus. They had already been divided into three teams and were decked out in matching T-shirts, one team in blue, one in yellow and the last in mauve. While the PAs sorted them into their groups at the place Connie ordered for the camera, they looked like they were all ready and very excited for a day on the lake.
While the production team prepared for the opening sequence and Tommy Proulx chatted with Connie and reviewed his script, Pam took note of the contestants. “How many are we supposed to have on our teams?”
“Ten each,” Ally answered, while Rene double-checked the headcount.
“It looks like we’re short a few?”
Ally agreed with her. “And what’s with the one wearing the red T?”
“Oh, that’s Abby,” Rene offered, remembering the woman’s name the other two had forgotten. “If I remember correctly, she’s a nurse. It looks like the production people are going to utilize her skills with the safety crew.”
Pam snorted at the change. “That still leaves us two contestants short. They can’t have given up already, could they?”
Before they could guess at the reason for the change, Connie called for everyone’s attention. “Let’s have your best smiles ladies.”
Beside her the assistant director called, “Quiet on the set! Roll sound.”
“Speed,” the sound tech answered.
“Frame,” was the reply from the cameraperson.
And finally Connie called, “Action!”
Tommy Proulx stepped to his mark. Outfitted for a day of luxury yachting, he smiled for the camera. “Welcome back to the Queen of Hearts! Today, our three remaining queens will take their teams out for a good old-fashioned regatta. Yes, these wonderful ladies will take to the high seas in a competition to see which team can complete the race course first. The winning team will be whisked into the big city to spend the evening being wined and dined by our three queens while the losers are stuck in port and tasked with scrubbing and polishing these immaculate race vessels supplied by today’s host and sponsor, Whitby Yachts.”
Moving to his second mark, he gestured to Pam, Rene, and Allyson. “As you can see, our contestants have been divided into teams, but whose team they will be on is still a mystery. Ladies, on the drive to our port of embarkation, you were tasked with choosing your first mate.” When he said mate, he added a suggestive hitch to his voice along with a wink. “Will our three first mates please step forward.”
Once they had joined him and introduced themselves and the name they had decided on for their team, he held up three flags. “I have in my hand three international maritime signal flags. Each represents a letter of the alphabet, and, you guessed it, each is the first letter of our queen’s first name.”
When one of the women named as a first mate asked which was which, he shushed her. “Where would be the fun in that?” he laughed. “Now each of you will pick one flag and once, and only once each team has hoisted their flag, will we tell you the actual letter you have chosen and send your queen and captain aboard. Are you ready?”
They looked dubious, but one by one they each chose a flag, then returned to their team holding their choice up high.
Moving to stand with the blue team who had themed themselves the Dolphins, Tommy explained, “Ladies, your first mate has chosen the blue flag with the white square in the center. Any thoughts on which queen you may have chosen as your captain?”
They all offered different guesses, each one adding to Tommy’s grin. “Dolphins, this flag represents the letter P. Welcome your captain Pamela!” They hooted and hollered and welcomed Pam to their side. Some offered hugs while one planted a hot wet kiss on her lips.
With the blue team settled, Tommy moved to stand between the mauve and yellow teams. “Well ladies, as you can see the Dolphins have nabbed your gorgeous queen Pamela. Now it’s between rock-solid Rene and high-flying Allyson. Are you all ready to learn who your captains will be?”
They cheered, but he didn’t give them any hints. Instead, he lined the two teams’ first mates on each side of him, first turning to the yellow team. “Now before I announce your queens, let me ask why you picked the flag you have here. And tell me what name you yellow-clad wonders have chosen?”
The first mate and her team snickered, then finally admitted, “We were a little pressed for time to choose, so it was the Yellow Bellies for us.”
He pretended to giggle before asking, “And you have chosen the red flag with the yellow cross? Let me guess: it goes with your theme?” They laughed while their first mate blushed.
He turned, saying, “Mauve team, you chose the white and blue flag with the side cut out. Tell our viewers the team name you came up wi
th and the reason you picked this flag?”
The first mate was bolder than the yellow team, announcing with pride, “We are Sappho’s Sailors, and we picked the white and blue because, well, there wasn’t a purple flag so this was close…and we liked that it wasn’t square like the others.”
“Do you know how this cutout is referred to?” he asked, holding up the half-white, half-blue clipped flag. “I just learned this morning.” At their questioning look, he explained, “It’s called a swallow-tailed flag and that, ladies, should tell you who your queen is. Yellow Bellies welcome your queen and captain Rene! Sappho’s Sailors, your swallow-tailed flag stands for A, and that means your captain is Allyson! Congratulations.”
Both groups cheered as directed. “All right, ladies. It’s time to man, or should I say woman, your boats!”
They cheered again and ran to the three sailboats already sporting the matching signal flag hoisted to the top of each main mast while the camera followed their enthusiastic parade.
“Cut!” Connie called with her bullhorn. “Everyone get aboard. We cast off in five minutes!” Turning her attention to Pam, Rene, and Ally, she smiled. “Hope you three are ready for some competition today?” She walked to where they were still standing on their marks and laughed to see their faces.
“Yellow Bellies?” Rene commented, shaking her head.
“It could be worse,” Connie said. “On the ride over they came up with some much more colorful names. Trust me, what they originally proposed was far too colorful, even for cable television.” As she explained the race course and where they would find the course markers, a PA delivered their captain’s T-shirts. These were horizontally striped, a nautical tradition, in the team color with a second chosen specifically to complement each.
Ally groaned, accepting the pink and mauve striped shirt she was handed.
Pam just laughed as she freely doffed her polo, displaying a white bikini top and perfect tan that had all the women cheering from the pier. Rene and Ally, under pressure, did the same but their tank top bathing suits didn’t quite draw the same reaction, although there were a few who swooned at Rene’s muscular arms. She grinned and waved as she pulled on the red and yellow striped T. At the lack of response for Ally, Pam wrapped her arm around the shoulders of her shorter cousin. “Don’t worry Al, you can always woo them with your culinary skills.”
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