Woman to Woman

by Tom Benson

  Late in the afternoon, Heather walked back to her rental car and lifted her camera; ready. She took more pictures and then content she wouldn’t be spotted, followed Charles’ car when it left. On the outskirts of Oxford, the Mazda parked up at a Chinese restaurant. Heather was able to park up in the same place between other vehicles and take three more pictures, and then she drove home.

  * * *

  At ten-thirty, Charles crept into the apartment and closed the door behind him. He removed his shoes in the hallway and tiptoed through to the lounge where he slipped off his jacket, and a table lamp illuminated.

  “Jeez—Heather … what the f—”

  “Save the theatricals, Charles.” Heather swallowed some of her brandy. “What did you have to eat—no, wait, let me guess … Italian, no, Greek, no … how about Chinese?”

  “Are you drunk—what are you talking about?”

  “I’m going to bed, Charles, to the marital bed, but you can sleep where you seem to be comfortable, in the spare room.” She stood and finished her drink. “If you join me in bed, you’ll need a colleague to stitch your cock back on.”

  “I don’t know what’s wrong with you, Heather, but we’ll discuss whatever it is in the morning before you go to work.”

  “I don’t want to discuss anything with you. I’ll be at work until six o’clock tomorrow evening. When I get home, I expect you, and all of your belongings to be out of here. Anything still here will go in the bin—”

  “Hold on, Heather. What is this all about?”

  Heather paused at the door. “You can have the car, and I’ll finalise the rent for this place.”

  “Heather—”

  The door closed.

  Charles was confused, and not angry, but being selfish, guilt didn’t occur to him, at least until he arrived in the spare bedroom.

  He lifted the envelope from the bed and removed the small, well-taken photographs. “Oh, fucking hell—no.”

  Charles looked at a picture of his car in the clinic car park, then the next photo which included the tower clock showing four o’clock. More importantly, clearly in focus were Charles and a young blonde woman. The third picture showed them kissing in the car.

  “How the fuck ….” Charles briefly closed his eyes after seeing the image of himself outside the Chinese restaurant, embracing and kissing the same blonde woman. The next two pictures had been carefully focussed to show the couple’s faces.

  Charles replaced the photos in the envelope and dropped it onto the bed, which was when he saw the note on the pillow.

  ‘Sonya is the daughter of Mr Cardwell, one of our consultants at St Leonard’s, but of course, you’d know that—another reason for you not wishing to work there.

  Save your energy for packing.

  Goodbye.

  Heather.’

  * * *

  At six o’clock in the morning, Heather quietly closed the door behind her and went to work. She threw herself into her job and focused on the well-being of her patients. During her lunch break, Heather went out to walk in a nearby park, first to be alone, but secondly, to come to terms with her decision—she’d be staying alone for a while to come.

  When she arrived home at seven o’clock in the evening, tired, and hungry, she wasn’t in a good state of mind. Charles had carried out her wishes. The apartment looked as if she lived by herself, and there was no trace of her deceitful husband.

  Heather sat in an armchair and cried until she slept; exhausted.

  Within a week, Heather had seen a solicitor, filed for divorce on the grounds of her husband’s adultery, and set the wheels in motion to revert back to her maiden name; Clement.

  She moved to a smaller apartment, closer to the hospital and cancelled all social commitments, whether for her and Charles, or herself.

  Two weeks later, she was accepted to study for a degree in Psychiatry, specialising in sexual therapy. To complete the course and maintain her job at St Leonard’s would mean five years of study, but she had time on her side. If it went well, she’d leave the hospital.

  Moving On

  Tuesday 17th July, 2001

  Heather’s front line hospital experience and other qualifications placed her ahead of other applicants when looking to move on. She was interviewed for a position as a General Practitioner in a modern surgery in Chelsea.

  “As the Practice Manager,” Geraldine Scott said. “I’ve been authorised to offer you the position.”

  “I never envisaged myself working in a surgery in the west end of London, but I’d be delighted to accept—thank you.”

  Geraldine offered her hand. “Welcome to The Manor, Dr Clement.” She glanced at her notes. “I may be in a different profession but off the record, your recently acquired psychiatry degree swung the decision in your favour.”

  “Thank you, it’s nice to know what gives you the edge in life.”

  “Again, off the record—it makes you one of the best-qualified doctors in our team, and we have twelve in here.”

  “It gives my confidence a boost. I’ll see you on Monday, 6th August, and thanks again, Geraldine.”

  Heather had one more area to think about, which was locating accommodation closer to her new job. She could commute from where she lived, but it made sense if possible to cut out the need for a twice daily, hour-long journey on the London Underground. The saving on transport would go towards the cost of renting a small flat or sharing with somebody suitable. Two days after accepting the job offer, Heather responded to an ad for a flatmate.

  * * *

  “Hi Heather, I’m Tina.” The curvy redhead offered her hand and gazed approvingly at her visitor. “Please come in, and we’ll have a chat.”

  Heather went along a short hallway and into the open plan kitchen and lounge area. “I like the layout. Fewer doors makes the place look big and welcoming.”

  “I think so, and it’s okay until you find yourself paying for it on your own.”

  “I can appreciate that—it’s one of the reasons I’m looking at moving in with somebody. From what I’ve seen it’s expensive, but I have to think of the commuting aspect.”

  Over coffee, the two women chatted about sharing the rent for the apartment, and it gladdened Heather’s heart to know that janitor and security services were supplied for all residents of the block.

  “How many applicants have you had?” Heather was keen to know how popular the place might be because it was well-sited and in good condition.

  “You’re the fourth person who’s come to see me this week, and I have two appointments to see people tomorrow. It’s difficult juggling work and being able to see prospective flatmates—I work in a fitness centre on the King’s Road.”

  “You said earlier that your ex-flatmate was a woman. Would your preference be a woman, rather than a man?”

  “Yes … my preference would be a woman … and the same goes for the flatmate.” Tina’s gaze never left her visitor as she watched for a response.

  Heather gave a short laugh, not having expected such a candid response, and not having intended to find out about Tina’s sexual preferences. “Why did your previous flatmate leave if things were going so well?”

  “Marilyn got a job offer of a lifetime—in a health spa in the south of Spain. There were only two vacancies for personal trainers, and she got one of them.”

  “Were you two close?”

  “We were flatmates and work colleagues before we were lovers, but yes, before she left, we were definitely close.”

  “It’s not really any of my business, but did Marilyn end your relationship to take the job?”

  “She didn’t want to, but I knew what it meant to her, so I pretended it was okay by me. For Marilyn, our relationship was more physical than anything else. She told me once that although it was about sex, she wouldn’t cheat on me while we were together.”

  “You had quite a partnership going on there. I admire her honesty and your sacrifice.”

  The two women chatted fo
r much longer than the time Tina had allocated for the visit. They went to the door and once again gazed into each other’s eyes.

  “If you’ll have me, I’d like to move in,” Heather said.

  “I’d love to have you … move in.” Tina smiled. “I’ll stop advertising the vacancy, and I’ll deal with the outstanding applicants.”

  “Should I call later today or tomorrow—”

  “This evening after six would be good.”

  They briefly took each other’s hand and then Heather left, with the image of Tina’s sparkling blue eyes clear in her mind. The loose top and trousers that Tina had been wearing disguised her figure, until she made specific movements, and then her actual shape was evident to the trained eye.

  * * *

  Heather was settled into the apartment within a week and found that apart from getting along well with Tina, they were able to share the catering. They both enjoyed healthy foods but were disciplined enough to have the occasional treat. Neither of them had a busy social life, so their agenda was similar—work, and rest.

  Tina went to a favourite club, but only every couple of weeks—it wasn’t a weekly appointment with a crowd for party time. She only ever referred to it as ‘the club’ and gave no details.

  For a doctor like Heather, who had spent so many hours in the high-pressure environment of a general hospital, a local doctor’s surgery was a world away. Unlike some of her colleagues in the small establishment, she found that many patients were directed to her list. Most of the other doctors dealt with the coughs, sneezes, aches and pains, but as the weeks passed, Heather became the surgery specialist for mental and sexually-related issues.

  By accident, not design, Heather’s patient list became almost exclusively devoid of the general patient problems. She gained a reputation for not only getting inside people’s heads but improving their wellbeing, usually without medication.

  * * *

  .

  Thursday 13th September, 2001

  “Heather, I wondered, since we’ve been flatmates for two months, would you like to join me tomorrow evening.”

  “Is this an invitation to this mysterious club of yours?”

  “There’s nothing too mysterious about it, except that it’ a gay bar, so I don’t know if you’d be comfortable going there.”

  “I’ll be honest, Tina, I’ve never been to a gay bar, but if you promise not to ditch me when we get there—yes, I’d love to join you.”

  “Thank you—it would mean a lot to have your company. They’re a nice bunch of people, but when you’re known somewhere as part of a couple, it seems to be difficult for others to accept when you end up on your own again.”

  “Did you and Marilyn go there often?”

  “We didn’t go there every week, but we were recognised as partners.”

  “How long is it since you were seen there with somebody else?”

  “The last time I was there with Marilyn was in June, and I’ve never taken anybody else to the place.” Tina sipped her drink and sat forward in her armchair. “I thought I’d get over Marilyn quickly, so a couple of weeks after she left I went for a medical, you know, to make sure I was clean?”

  “I arrange those appointments regularly, and it’s nice to know that you have a sensible attitude to that side of your life.”

  “I wanted to be ready to move on with confidence.”

  The pair chatted about how some people treated sexual partners as something special, whereas others were happy to risk everything for a quick thrill. As the two young women enjoyed their late evening drink and interesting chat, Tina’s situation was becoming more intriguing to Heather.

  “Have you been in touch with Marilyn since she left?”

  “She sent me a picture postcard after about two weeks.” Tina gazed into her drink. “I think it was meant to be a belated apology for allowing our relationship to be affected by the opportunity she took.”

  “Did she say anything about coming back, or you visiting her over there?”

  “No—I told her before she left, that if she went, I’d keep in touch, but we were over, except as friends.”

  “Do you miss her?”

  “I’ve got used to her not being around, but now that I’ve gotten over the break, I think I miss the sex more than anything. For example, we’d never have in-depth conversations like you and me, but in bed, Marilyn was up for anything.” Tina laughed and shook her head.

  “You don’t have to answer this, but were you … equal partners in bed, or—”

  “Yes, we took turns at things in bed, and we didn’t have one of those masculine and feminine things going on. We both dressed like young women when we went out, and neither of us felt the need for short hair and tattoos.” She smiled. “Having said that, some of the nicest girls I’ve met are usually only seen in dungarees, and they have short hair and tattoos. Most people don’t see past the appearance to the person inside.”

  “You don’t often mention guys when you talk about your club.”

  “I probably name them, but due to the names they adopt you’d think they were girls.”

  “I have to be honest—I didn’t think of that angle.”

  “Do you recall me talking about Nicki, Ronnie, Danni, or Robyn?”

  “Actually, all of those names ring a bell, so you must have mentioned them.”

  “They’re all men, but of course they’re all men who are partners with other men.” She smiled. “You said you’ve studied psychiatry and sexual preferences?”

  “Yes, I specialised in certain areas when I studied for my second degree.”

  “I think a visit to my favourite club would be good for you in more ways than one.”

  “Now, you’ve really got me intrigued.”

  “Talking of relationships, you’ve never said how long you’ve been on your own?”

  “Five years.”

  “What?”

  “I’ve been on a few one-night stands with guys—you know, enjoyed a meal, but didn’t always invite them in for coffee. I was affected pretty badly by my ex-husband’s deception, so although I help other people, I have a few trust issues with men.”

  “Five years—bloody hell. Wait a minute … are you saying you haven’t had—”

  Heather smiled and shook her head. “I’ve had sex three times since the split.”

  * * *

  The two women wore their hair down, and both wore dresses and heels. Tina’s suggestion was for them to look as feminine as possible, and for Heather to stay close.

  As they got near to the club, Heather said, “I don’t know how I’m supposed to feel, but I have to admit to some nerves, and also excitement.”

  “As long as it’s only emotions you’re feeling, you’ll be fine.” Tina laughed, and it took a few seconds before Heather joined her, albeit not with as much gusto. “Don’t worry, if you’re with me, the guys or girls in here won’t bother you.”

  “Will they openly approach a visitor?”

  “If the new person looks as good as you, Heather—most definitely.” Tina winked and pulled the door open before ushering her companion inside.

  At first glance, the club was no different from any other bar, except the decor was less harsh in style and colour scheme. The lighting was subdued, and the brightest area was the bar. An effeminate young man with long blond hair, and wearing makeup was in attendance within a minute.

  “Hi, Tina, who is this beautiful creature?”

  “Hello, Billie—this is Heather. Heather, this is Billie, but spelt the way a girl would spell it.”

  “Hi, Billie—I love your earrings,” Heather said. “The big hoops suit your look.”

  “Thank you.” The barman acted coy. “I might get to like you quick.”

  A few minutes later, Heather and Tina were sitting on high bar stools. The pair enjoyed a quiet chat, and occasionally somebody would stop beside them to be introduced. It seemed that Tina was not only recognised but popular.

  Late in the eveni
ng, a tall, attractive brunette approached to say hello and introduce herself.

  “Hi, Tina, I see you’ve won the lottery.” The stranger half-turned and smiled at Heather as she offered an elegant hand. “I’m Natalie, and any friend of Tina’s is a friend of mine, especially if the friend is as stunning as you.”

  “Thank you—I’m Heather.” She took Natalie’s hand and felt her’s being squeezed gently. “If we’re throwing compliments around, you must have a few admirers—you’re beautiful.”

  Natalie continued to hold Heather’s hand and gazed into her eyes. “From your expression and the way you’ve been looking around, I’m guessing you’re new to our scene.”

  “I’m only really here as company for Tina this evening.”

  “May I ask if you’re curious, or perhaps simply a good friend?”

  Heather paused and was saved by Tina.

  “Heather is with me this evening, Natalie, so you can let go of her hand anytime.” Tina smiled and nodded down at the extended handshake.

  “I’m sorry, Heather.” Natalie bit her lip briefly. “If you ever get the desire to know more about our special relationships, you have a rather lovely companion here to guide you.” She winked at Tina. “Doesn’t she, Tina?”

  “I wish,” Tina said, and they both laughed.

  Heather laughed too, but quietly and with less self-assurance. She wondered how sincere Tina’s compliment was, and if the raised eyebrow was meant to be registered with the two simple words.

  The evening went well, and Heather found all the regulars in the club to be friendly, whether they be male or female in gender, and however they behaved regarding their chosen lifestyle.

  Heather accompanied Tina to the gay bar once in October and again in November, and enjoyed the evenings. On both visits she found herself asking questions about the lifestyle of those who were of a gay or bisexual persuasion. The people she spoke to were happy to talk about their lives and all aspects, both positive and negative.