1. Cilla - First Part

The man’s hand felt rough and hot on the tiny girl’s arm as he pulled her into her bedroom and locked the door. “Usual routine,” he growled. “I’ll teach you to behave, one day. Pull down your knickers. Lie on the bed.”

The pain surged through her body and exploded in her brain as the whoosh, crack of the stick came again and again . . .

The radio alarm switched on. Cilla awoke with a shock, her heart pounding, breath sobbing. Her body tingled as though with the pain from blows, though she was safe in her bed in her own home now and the man was long gone. No-one was hitting her now.

It was a Monday morning in May and quite dark outside, with gusts of rain blown by a chill wind against the building. So different from summer mornings, when she would wake under a sheet and see the sun slanting through the window and hear the birds.

She threw back her quilt, put on something warm and headed for the kitchen to start breakfast. That recurring dream was becoming more real. She hadn’t thought or dreamt of those beatings for years, but now in mature life they were coming back.

As she bustled about, the dream faded and she became more preoccupied with what faced her at work. She was new in the job and it was slow and difficult, with the predominant men always ready to notice her mistakes. But in her previous job she had built a reputation for being useful and productive, so she was confident that if she survived these early times she would do well.

Cilla was small but beautiful. She had long curly black hair that showed blue lights in the sun, to match her blue eyes. She favoured blues and purples in her clothes. She had perfect skin and her limbs were dainty but sturdy and smooth. Her looks were another problem at work. The other place hadn’t been so bad because there had been proportionately more women and the ‘culture’ of that workplace had been different.

At her new job, Cilla was wearied and distracted by constant flirtatious remarks and requests for dates. She couldn’t work or talk with a male colleague without being aware that her presence was being enjoyed by him.

At least on this dark morning in her own kitchen she could relax for half an hour with cereal and coffee and the paper before facing the daily struggle.

She had her shower and dressed and brushed her hair till it shone. The morning was still dark as she ran down the road to catch her morning train. The street lights and station lights blazed yellow, violet, white. A sweeping-truck moaned and swished down the road. The twin lights of the train blazed suddenly round the corner as she approached the station and she hurried along, arriving just in time for the doors to open, as usual. She could never manage to leave a bit early and be waiting for the train before it arrived.

She sat down and the men on the train, as always, noticed her. Eyes looked in her direction and didn’t look away soon. One man in particular, about fifty, was on the train with a book or paper most mornings. His reading didn’t get much of a chance after Cilla got on. He looked down, but Cilla knew he was looking at her through the top of his glasses.

At the end of the journey, Cilla got out quickly and got to the escalator first so that she could catch her connecting bus. As usual, the old man managed to get in behind her, she presumed so that he could look at her from behind as she mounted the escalator. She didn’t really mind. He just enjoyed her for a few minutes at the start of each day and never tried to speak or do anything more. If it helped him, she was glad, because it didn’t harm her. Maybe he had a horrible job and family worries and the sight of her legs each morning made his life bearable.

She reached the office, a government department, said ‘good morning’ to the usual other early starters and went to her desk first to turn on the computer and log in to the network. This gave her time to grab a coffee from the machine. There was a lot to do today, as usual - when she had first arrived they had piled work onto her, perhaps to stress her and discourage her. But she had got it done, and done well, so they kept giving her more. Often she was given work that others had failed to do on time or had not done properly, and she got it done. This had made her position safer but had caused some resentment. Men resented being out-performed in their jobs by a little girl who should be on the cover of a magazine rather than shaking the peaceful world of secure government employment.

She was aware of this resentment and tried not to give in to the fancy that she might become the target of actual sabotage. It wouldn’t be too hard for someone, for a moment sufficiently upset to lose his sense, to mess up her work. She had figured out ways in which this could be done in a computerised office. With the best security, proper functioning of the system depended as always on good will and good sense. There was no secure or permanent defence against malign intent.

She hadn’t made any friends among the men and the women had so far been polite and neutral, except for one, Elizabeth, who had been more friendly than politeness required and had shown Cilla shy kindnesses. When Cilla had started this job, Elizabeth had been one of the later arrivals, coming in about nine and staying till about five. But she had been getting earlier, often arriving nearer to eight and walking past Cilla’s cubicle to say ‘Good Morning’ and pass a few words of conversation.

This happened today. Elizabeth passed by and they exchanged a few remarks about the weekend. Then Cilla worked on. She had set herself a target of getting ten letters done and printed and into the mailing system by nine, and by eight o’clock she had done four. She checked them through and sent them to the printer.

She got up, stretched and walked over to the printer. After a while, nothing was coming out. It was on. It was on-line. She hurried back to her workstation and checked the screen. There was no error-message.

With rising irritation she checked the printer setup. No apparent problem there either.

She went back to the printer. Something was coming out! But it was not hers. So it was working. But someone else’s work had jumped the queue ahead of her stuff.

She waited for a while and the printer stopped. None of her letters had come out of it.

She went back to her cubicle and checked the telephone list for Computer Manager. The calling tone went on for some time before a young voice answered.

“Good morning, computer manager’s office?”

“Hello, this is Cilla Parker, on the eighth floor. I sent my letters to the printer, but they didn’t come out. It worked yesterday. There’s no obvious error. Can someone come and look at it?”

“Is the printer on?”

“Yes. It just printed someone else’s stuff.”

“Oh. Well, I dunno. The expert guy isn’t in till nine, or after. Shall I give him your message?”

“Yes, thanks. My extension is 23010.”

“23010. Right. ‘Bye!”

Cilla might have to wait up to an hour. She decided to get on with the other letters.

The fifth letter was similar to the last one she had done, so she changed several items, then saved it under a new name. The sixth was similar to the first, so she closed the one she had just worked on and gave the command to open the first one.

“No such file. OK?” said the computer.

Cilla checked that she had typed the filename in correctly. Her filenames were simple and logical. There was no mistake. With growing concern she tried to open the others she had done that morning. “No such file. OK?”

Not printed, and apparently not saved. An hour at work and nothing to show for it. She didn’t know what do do now, until nine o’clock.

Could she use someone else’s computer? Could she treat Elizabeth’s friendly behaviour as an invitation to ask for help when in trouble? Well, at least she could go and talk to Elizabeth, tell her the problem and wait to see if Elizabeth would offer help.

She got up again and went to Elizabeth’s cubicle. She felt a bit shy about this, not having done it before, but was encouraged by the way Elizabeth’s face lit up when she saw Cilla coming in.

“Hi, Cilla! You look worried. What’s up?”

“Hello, Elizabeth.” Cilla sat down. “I’m having computer troubles.”

“Mm?”

“I sent four letters to the printer, and none of them came out, though someone else’s stuff did. And I tried to open them again, and my ‘puter says they don’t exist. Have you come across this before?”

Elizabeth shrugged. “No.” Cilla noticed that Elizabeth’s computer wasn’t even on. She asked “Have you tried yours yet this morning?”

“No. I’m not going to work with it till later. I have to take these files” indicating a pile on her desk “to a meeting in about half an hour. Do you want to try it?”

“Well, if it won’t be a nuisance.”

“Not at all! Just log off yours, log in to mine, and try it out.”

Cilla went back to her computer, logged it out and turned it off, then came back to Elizabeth’s. She still couldn’t find her letters that she had saved, but started again with the first one and sent it to the printer. It worked!

“All right now, dear?” said Elizabeth. “I’d better get going now.”

Why did she call me ‘dear’? I’m about her age! “Yes, thanks, Elizabeth. Mine should be fixed today - I’ve just got to wait until the computer guy upstairs arrives and calls me back.”

“Good. But take all the time you need. See you!” Elizabeth touched Cilla’s hair and patted her shoulder on her way out. Cilla shivered a little, with pleasure and surprise. She wasn’t used to be touched by anyone and there had been a warmth in Elizabeth’s brief touch.

With relief and some nervous haste Cilla started to catch up and get her work done, just getting three more letters off to the printer before she heard her telephone ring. She dashed back to her cubicle. As she did so she heard a male voice say “Short-arse is running around like a headless chook this morning” to which someone responded with a snigger.

Her face felt hot with embarrassment and annoyance at this as she picked up her ‘phone.

“Hello? Cilla Parker on 23010.”

“Hi, Cilla! What seems to be the trouble?”

The voice was friendly but in a patronising way, and there seemed to be a hint that her trouble had been expected. She determined to keep calm and polite. Never upset the computer expert.

“Well, firstly, I sent four letters to the printer, and they didn’t come out. Other people’s stuff did. Then I went back to open the files again, and my ‘puter said they didn’t exist!”

“Did you give the right file names?”

“Yes - they’re all pretty simple.”

“Is your printer set up correctly?”

“Yes. I haven’t changed it, and it has always worked before.”

“If I can fix it for you, do I get a date?”

Cilla’s annoyance now got the better of her. “Oh, I don’t know. I’m fully booked until at least Christmas.”

That was pretty crude. Silence on the other end of the ‘phone, broken by a sigh of irritation, then “Well, I’m fully booked with computer problems till at least the end of the week, but I’ll ring you back when I can fit you in, OK?” The call was disconnected.

Cilla replaced the ‘phone, her heart sinking. Of course he had no right to use the power of his position to get a woman to go out with him, but at the same time she could have deflected him in a lighter way that would still have got him down to fix her problem. What was she to do now?

There was no choice - she would have to ask the section head to use his authority to get her computer fixed before next week. She was going to be even more unpopular.

She walked at a more sedate pace to the section head’s office. She didn’t mind him. He was professional. He respected her productivity and didn’t make patronising remarks or flirt with her.

“‘Morning Cilla”, he said when she knocked. “What can I do for you?”

“Good morning, Barry. I’m having bizarre problems with my computer, and Kevin upstairs says he won’t have time to fix it before next week. I’m having to use Elizabeth’s, while she’s at a meeting. Is there any way of getting mine fixed earlier? It’s only Monday now, and I’ve got a lot to do.”

Barry frowned and reached for his telephone. “Leave it with me, Cilla.”

She smiled, nodded and left, going back to Elizabeth’s computer. From there she could hear Barry’s voice raised in a tone of some asperity, though she couldn’t make out the words.

She had got another letter off when she heard a voice bark “Cilla!”

Kevin was standing near her cubicle, looking red and angry. Yes, yes, she knew why. She wouldn’t even discuss it. She would just act normally. After logging out and turning off the computer she went over and smiled at him as she approached. “Hello, Kevin! Thanks for making time to come down.”

He didn’t answer that. He laboriously, repetitively quizzed her about the problem, managing to insult her ability and intelligence as he did so. After several minutes of this they were still standing outside her cubicle and her computer still hadn’t been turned on. Barry came out of his office and walked over, smiling.

“Got it fixed?” he said. “What was the problem?”

“I still haven’t been able to get clear just what that is,” said Kevin, shaking his head and wiping his brow as one confused by talking to an idiot.

“Well, perhaps Cilla could turn on, log in and show us,” Barry suggested.

This was done and Cilla attempted to open a file she had just done on the other computer a few minutes ago. “No such file. OK?”

She tried again, typing the file name carefully; same result. Then she typed a test file, just a few lines of text, saved it under the name ‘zz’ then closed it and tried to open it. “No such file. OK?”

“Well, that’s pretty obvious,” said Barry. “It’s saving on one path and trying to open by another. Let me have a look.”

He sat down and tapped away at the keys. Kevin now tried to contribute, but Barry ignored him. After a few minutes Barry said “Right, now try it.”

Cilla repeated her ‘zz’ test. It worked perfectly.

“Now try to open your files from this morning.”

That worked too. Cilla felt relief flooding into her.

“Now let’s have a look at the printer setup,” said Barry. He sat down at the computer again.

“Just as I thought. The printer name is right, but the settings were garbage. I’m surprised it didn’t hang up. Try it now, Cilla.”

Cilla sent a letter to the printer and ran over in time to see lights blinking as it started to come out. Relief!

She went back to her cubicle and the two unsmiling men.

“Have you changed the settings on your computer, Cilla?” asked Barry.

“No! It was working perfectly yesterday, I came in this morning, turned it on, resumed work, had all these problems.”

“So. Someone else has been stuffing around with it.” He turned to Kevin. “I want you to fix this computer so that it won’t even start without a password. The password is to be known only to Cilla. Then I want you to do the same to every computer in my section. OK?”

Kevin nodded, scowling. Cilla looked from one to the other.

“I don’t know what problem you to have with each other,” Barry continued, “and I don’t care, so long as my section’s work gets done. End of that discussion. Now, the password, please.”

Kevin sat down at the computer and worked at it for a little while. Then he stood up, indicating that Cilla was to sit down and type in her password. He stood looking over her shoulder, but Barry motioned him to stand away.

Her body hiding the keyboard from their eyes, Cilla thought for a moment. “Eight characters, including one numeric,” growled Kevin. She thought of her new-found friend who had helped her this morning and typed in ‘Lizbeth5’. Easy for her to remember but hard for others to figure out.

“Now turn it off,” prompted Kevin. “When you turn on again it should show you a key and wait for you to enter the password.”

She did so, and the little key appeared in one corner of the screen. She typed in ‘Lizbeth5’ and the computer resumed its start-up routine.

“Good. Now let’s all get back to work,” said Barry. Kevin seemed inclined to linger, maybe to express his anger and make some puerile remarks about the evils of ‘dobbing in’ but Cilla was ignoring him as she rushed to catch up with her work, and Barry wasn’t leaving until Kevin did. Finally she was left alone.

Her relief at getting her computer back to normal was now invaded by anxiety over the possible consequences of the way she had achieved this, and the implications of the fact that it had been deliberately disabled by someone. If she was so unpopular before, how much more so would she be now? What else would they try? Perhaps she could ask Elizabeth, who left later, to keep an eye on things. But many of the men stayed much later than Elizabeth.

By twelve o’clock Cilla had nearly caught up with where she had hoped to be by this time. She hadn’t stopped or taken a break or taken notice of anyone. Suddenly a hand caressing her hair and going round her shoulders made her jump. She looked round. Elizabeth was smiling at her.

“So, you got it fixed?”

“Yes, but it took some trouble.” Cilla kept her voice low as she told the story. “It was obvious that someone had messed with my computer. I suppose they didn’t think I would go to the Section Head.”

Elizabeth digested this information. “They are really going to be against you now.”

Cilla was irritated. “Well, they did it. Whatever was done wrong, they did it. I’ve done nothing wrong. I gave priority to getting work done.”

“I know, love, but the world’s not fair.”

“Well, Elizabeth, what would you have done in my shoes?”

“I don’t know.” Elizabeth hesitated. “I know that what you did was right -”

“Well, thank you.”

“ - but I don’t know if I would have had the courage to do it. I might have just struggled on and got into trouble for getting behind. But -” she straightened and spoke more firmly “after your example, I know that if a similar thing happens to me, I’ll do the right thing too.”

Cilla was glad to hear this. She would do what she thought was right anyway but wanted support. “Thanks, Elizabeth. I’m sorry I barked at you. I have had a tense morning.” She took Elizabeth’s hand.

Elizabeth squeezed Cilla’s hand and held onto it. “I know, love. I must have sounded weak. But now I’ll stand by you in whatever’s ahead.”

Cilla frowned. “You see trouble ahead?”

“Oh, yes. You’ve won this round but they’ll get at you in other ways.”

“Why don’t they like me?”

Elizabeth looked worried. “I’ve heard talk.”

“What?”

“You’re so incredibly beautiful” Elizabeth’s voice shook a little as she said this. Cilla blushed. “and that disturbs them. But you’re seen as stand-offish, and you work too hard and get too much done, and make people look bad by doing their work when they’ve fallen behind or made mistakes.”

“I only do what I’m told to do.”

“I know love, and I support you. We all have to work harder and better, to survive. But there’s resistance from the old government department culture of only doing so much and taking it easy and giving priority to other things, like getting on with everyone.”

“I know that’s true,” Cilla said. She wanted to stop talking about it now, to go back to work, work through the lunch break, munch a sandwich while she worked, but Elizabeth still held her hand and seemed inclined to linger.

“Come and have lunch with me,” Elizabeth suggested. “We could go to the park just up the street. The sky’s clear, for now. We could catch some sun.”

Cilla frowned. “I’m still a bit behind. I was going to work through lunch. I’ve already scrambled a couple of letters and had to fix them.”

“There you are! You need a break. If you get away from it for half an hour, you’ll actually save time by making fewer mistakes when you come back.” Elizabeth now pulled gently on Cilla’s hand.

“All right, all right, I’ll just turn this off so they can’t do anything to it, and hide my printouts.” She pulled her hand away and finished what she was doing, then ran over to the printer to rescue her work from possible further tricks.

Soon they were in the park, eating their lunch while sitting on a seat which had dried and warmed in the sun.

“I’ve brought a rug,” said Elizabeth. “I don’t care if it gets damp. When you’ve finished eating you might like to stretch out in the sun for a few minutes to relax.”

“Good. Thanks. But don’t let me go to sleep!” Cilla was feeling weary now that she had stopped working for a while.

“I won’t.”

Cilla felt really grateful for Elizabeth’s kindness on this difficult day. But she didn’t quite know what to make of it, since the two of them had hardly spoken before today. They weren’t friends, or related to each other.

Cilla looked at Elizabeth and smiled. “I really appreciate your kindness today, Elizabeth. You’ve made all the difference. I hope I can return the favour.”

Elizabeth smiled, blushed, looked pleased, but didn’t reply immediately. Cilla sensed she was working out something to say and was puzzled by this.

Elizabeth was thinking, I was the one favoured, just by being able to do something for you, by getting the opportunity to speak to you and get to know you. I’m favoured by being here in the sun with you, being so close to you and able to look at you for half an hour. But all she said was “I’d like to be your friend, Cilla. I mean, apart from workmates. You know?”

“Yes. I’d like that, Elizabeth. I haven’t got many friends, currently. I’ve lost touch with the ones I used to know at school and uni. I used to see a couple of people from my old job outside work, but I’ve left there now.”

“What about your family?”

“I haven’t got any.”

“No family? Everyone has family!” Elizabeth immediately regretted her careless exclamation. Was there some terrible tragedy here? An air crash? She quickly reached out a hand to Cilla. “I’m sorry! I shouldn’t have said that! Please forgive me! It’s none of my business - “

Cilla hastened to soothe her. “There’s nothing to forgive, Elizabeth. I just haven’t got any, that’s all. My mother gave me up for adoption soon after birth, and I’ve no clue who my father was. My adoptive parents, their marriage broke up, I was fostered out. But the man was abusive, and there was a big drama, after which I was put in a boarding-school. So, there you are. I’ve certainly got parents somewhere, and grandparents, and cousins, and half-siblings, but they’re all phantoms, unseen, unknown.”

Cilla got down on the rug and stretched out in the sun.

Elizabeth was shocked. She no longer lived with her family but had them and knew where they were and saw them regularly. And the idea of anyone abusing dear Cilla . .

“What do you mean, abusive? Sexually?” Elizabeth got down on the rug too and sat looking at Cilla.

“Mm - I suppose so. Not in the sense that he actually, you know, tried to have sex with us - there was another foster child and his step-children - but he used to like to take our pants down and hit us with a stick. I think he got sexual gratification from this. But apart from that, he didn’t touch us. But that was bad enough. I got out of it because the visitor came one day and thought I was a bit undersized, so sent me to the doctor for a check-up. This was only a couple of days after the bloke had given me an awful whipping, for some minor thing that I can’t remember. So when I was at the doctor I showed him the marks.”

“Did he help you?” Elizabeth’s voice shook.

“Yes! It wasn’t one of those cases that you read about in the paper, where abuse just gets ignored until the kid dies. There was hell to pay. Both of us foster-children got taken away, the man’s wife kicked him out and got custody. He faced charges.”

“Did he get put in prison?”

“I only found out about that later. I just had to attend a closed hearing, with a tape, and that was the end of my involvement. But I found out later that he just got a suspended sentence.”

Elizabeth groaned. “Clever lawyer?”

“Yes.” Cilla had related this tale with little emotion and now seemed to have lost interest in it. But it was just that she suddenly felt sleepy and lying in the sun made it easier to give in to this feeling. Her eyes were already closed. Elizabeth checked her watch and decided that little Cilla could have five minutes, anyway. And she, Elizabeth, could take this opportunity just to look at her, without having to talk, or worry about embarrassing by staring. Just to look, freely and joyfully at the sleeping face.

The sounds of the park lapped gently around the silent couple, one little dark woman lying asleep, the other blonde woman sitting looking intently and rapturously at her. A few passers-by who got close enough were concerned and one old lady almost stopped to ask if everything was all right. But they were left alone, unaware of their surroundings.

Cilla stirred in her sleep and drew her knees up, causing her skirt to slip back and expose her legs.

Elizabeth caught her breath at the sudden presentation of Cilla’s beautiful white thighs, gleaming in the sun. She fought the urge to reach out and touch them.

Cilla suddenly woke up and saw Elizabeth looking at her legs. Elizabeth was wringing her hands as though she wanted to reach out. Cilla sat up and drew her dress down. She was embarrassed and frowned at Elizabeth.

“What’s the matter? Was I making a spectacle of myself?”

Now it was Elizabeth’s turn to be embarrassed. She had been caught behaving in a way that could not be easily explained. She decided not to discuss it at all. She smiled and got up.

“I suppose we’d better get back,” was all she said.

Cilla agreed and they packed up and walked back to the office.

Cilla had no more trouble and managed to do nearly all that she had planned by the time she was due to go home. At that time she worried about what might happen once she had left the office. She walked over to Elizabeth’s cubicle. By this time she had forgotten the embarrassment at lunchtime.

Elizabeth’s face lit up as Cilla walked in. She had been worried that her indiscretion at lunchtime might have spoilt the friendship. “Hello! How’s it going? Have you had any more trouble?”

“No, Elizabeth, I’ve managed to catch up, thanks. But I’m worried about what might happen once I’ve left. Unless I stay in the office ten or more hours every day, which I can’t, I don’t know what to do to prevent further tricks from my colleagues.”

“I don’t think they’ll try anything else so soon, when it was so plain that your computer had been interfered with.”

“No, I suppose not. But since you stay a bit later than me each night, could you look over to my workstation now and then, after I’ve gone?”

“Glad to! I could stay until five, or later, every night.”

“Oh, no. I don’t want to put you out.”

“I’m glad to do it! This is something worth taking trouble over. I could start later, like I used to, and take longer lunches, so that one or other of us would be in the office all the time that anyone else is here, except for the workaholics, who would be least suspect anyway.” Elizabeth didn’t say that for her, anything that would normally be irksome would be a pleasure for her if it would help dear Cilla.

Cilla considered. “All right. We can be a team. If you want any shopping done, or other stuff, I could do it for you when I leave early.”

Elizabeth was thrilled. A team! This had been a good day for her. A bad day for Cilla, but that had brought the two of them together. Elizabeth could almost glimpse a faint light at the end of the long tunnel of grief and loneliness through which she had been travelling since the disaster that had ended her schooldays and set her life back.

“Good!” she said. “Go home now, and don’t worry about anything. I’ll tell you tomorrow if I see anything going on.”

The next morning Cilla made the effort to get to work a little earlier. She walked into the dark office. No-one was about yet. She turned on the lights and went to her cubicle. There was an envelope on her desk marked ‘Cilla’.

She opened it. “Cilla!” she read in Elizabeth’s round, pretty hand. “Didn’t see anything happen near your cubicle. Don’t worry. But I’ll keep watching. They wouldn’t try anything else so soon anyway. See you tomorrow. Love, Lizbeth.”

So, she liked to be called Lizbeth. Or had she discovered Cilla’s password? No matter - she was on Cilla’s side.

Indeed there didn’t seem to be any problems this morning. But she hadn’t been there half an hour when Elizabeth came in and touched her shoulder.

Cilla was surprised. “Hello!” she said. “You’re in early! But you must have been late last night.”

“No matter, dear. I need to build up a bit of time anyway - I need to take a couple of days off.”

“What for?”

“Oh -” Elizabeth didn’t really need any days off, but she didn’t want to explain that she was just doing it for Cilla, and that nothing was too much. “Just some things I need to do.” Actually she was pleased that Cilla had even asked, as though it were any of her business why Elizabeth needed days off. She hoped that her vague reply wouldn’t make Cilla feel rejected.

Cilla actually felt silly for having carelessly asked “What for?” Of course it was none of her business and she didn’t really want to know. She quickly changed the subject.

“Well, I’ve had no problems this morning.”

“Good. I suppose their next trick will be from another direction.”

Cilla looked at Elizabeth. “You still think they’ll try something else?”

“I’m sure of it. I also think it’ll be something cruder, a bit desperate. On account of you going to the boss about the computer problem.”

Cilla dropped her hands to her lap, looking glum. “What can I do to stop it?”

Elizabeth shrugged. “I don’t know. If you actually liked a man in this office, and he asked you out on a date, and you went out with him, because you wanted to and not because you felt you had to, that might help.” Behind this reasonable suggestion Elizabeth was fishing - she wanted to know if Cilla did fancy any of the men.

“Why?”

“Because, then you would have one of the blokes on your side, and the others would leave you alone. But of course it would have to be someone you would have chosen to go out with anyway, not because you thought it would do you good in the office.”

“Well, there isn’t anyone. All right, most of them are nice enough men, but I don’t fancy any of them.”

Elizabeth was relieved to hear this, but disturbed by Cilla’s irritated tone. She felt embarrassed and guilty, knowing that if she wanted to offer Cilla useful advice, it must be without ulterior motives.

Actually Cilla was quite unaware that Elizabeth was fishing, thought that the advice was well-intended and reasonable. The idea would certainly work if it could be taken, but it couldn’t. Her irritation was long-standing - while aware that she was the focus of much male admiration, had been for years, she had never felt strongly attracted to any boy or man. There had been someone a few years ago whom she had allowed to kiss her, but she had pushed him away, frightened, when he got too excited and his kissing became too urgent. He had apologised, taken her home. His parting remark, trying to explain his behaviour which had shamed him, was that she was so beautiful that it was painful to look at her and be with her.

Cilla turned and saw Elizabeth’s face. “I’m sorry to snap at you, Lizbeth. It is a good idea. I’m just annoyed that while everyone seems to want me, I’ve never really wanted any man. It’s a burden to me.”

Burdened or not, Cilla turned back to her computer and became absorbed in her work. Elizabeth was relieved, but wasn’t ready to leave.

“What about lunch today?” she asked.

Cilla suppressed a sigh. She had enjoyed going out to lunch for a change but didn’t want it to become a routine, expected of her.

“Most days I just like to munch and work, Lizbeth. Then I can get away early and get on with my studies and other things.”

“What are you studying for?”

“Law, and management. I want to get on.”

Elizabeth suddenly made to go. Cilla sensed that she had been misunderstood and hastened to correct herself. She turned and smiled. “I mean, get on in life. I wasn’t telling you to nick off, Lizbeth. I appreciate your help. Let me know if I can do anything for you.”

“Well - “

“What?”

“Would you like to come to dinner with me one night? If it won’t get in the way of your study. Then we can talk, and, er - away from office pressure.”

“You mean, at a restaurant?” It sounded expensive and tiring.

“No, no, at my place. I’ll cook dinner. We could go straight from work. Then I could drive you home, not too late.”

Cilla considered. It was a nice idea. “What about Friday?”

Elizabeth brightened. “Friday! Friday would be good. Few of them stay late Fridays. No need for us to stay late watching for trouble.”

“Good.” Cilla smiled at Elizabeth and held out her hand. Elizabeth took it and held it, her eyes shining. “Friday it is, then, Lizbeth. Thanks very much.” Cilla released her hand, as gently as possible, and turned back to her work. Elizabeth left now, slowly, but not unhappily.

Cilla was puzzled by Elizabeth’s obvious pleasure and affection. This office must be really bad if finding a friend was such a big deal. Maybe when she got to know Elizabeth better she would know if she were the sort of person who had intense feelings about everything and expressed them openly. Cilla became absorbed in her work.

There were no incidents in the office for the next few days. Kevin came down and gave everyone a password. She could hear the drone of male voices sometimes as he explained why he was having to do this and people gave their views.

Elizabeth constantly found reasons to come into Cilla’s cubicle and to touch Cilla, squeezing her hand, putting an arm around her shoulders, stroking her hair. Cilla mused that if a male workmate were carrying on like this she would have to complain. But she felt able to accept it from Elizabeth, and quite enjoyed it. Life had not allowed her much pleasant touching. There had been the whippings from her foster father, then a long period in boarding school where no-one touched anyone else, then in her adult life she was frequently touched accidentally-on-purpose by men as she shopped or used public transport. She had to scold and embarrass them. Sometimes she was wrong, and was embarrassed for herself.

Elizabeth continued to stay late watching for anyone doing anything around Cilla’s workstation, but nothing happened for the rest of the week.

Friday came. Cilla came in to work late, since she would be staying later. She used the time to stay up later working on Thursday night, and to get more sleep. She was struck by how much more crowded and slow it was, going to work later in the morning. The train was as quick as usual but the rest of the journey took twice as long.

Elizabeth was already there, looking unhappy, when Cilla arrived. “Hello, Cilla! I was worried about you. I thought you were sick.”

“No! I thought that since you and I are leaving together today, I’d have a later night and morning.”

Elizabeth was relieved and pleased.

Cilla found it harder to get started, arriving in a full office. She decided to be more flexible. It might be bad to get into too much of a routine. But her day soon became productive as usual, punctuated by visits from Elizabeth. She thought that perhaps she should go and visit Elizabeth too, but she couldn’t think of reasons for doing so and didn’t have time.

Her usual home time passed and she was able to observe how the office emptied out quickly after four on a Friday. At four-thirty few were left and Cilla decided that any more work could wait till Monday. She turned off her machine and covered it, and now she did get up, take her bag and go over to Elizabeth’s cubicle.

“Hi, Lizbeth! Still going?”

Elizabeth had been hunched over her terminal, frowning, but she turned quickly and beamed at Cilla.

“I won’t be long! I hope. I’d just like to get this right before going home. I don’t want to leave it till Monday. I’ll only worry about it.”

“Can I help?”

Elizabeth showed her the problem. It was a document with graphics, inserts, tables, different fonts. Elizabeth had to get it correctly formatted and laid out and make sure that all the information was correct, and was working from a list of instructions as to exactly how the document should look. Elizabeth had been having a lot of difficulty.

“Can I get into the driver’s seat?” asked Cilla. Elizabeth got up.

After ten minutes, Cilla had it right. They checked through it together, and it looked perfect.

Elizabeth threw her arms around Cilla and nearly kissed her, then checked herself and pulled away, slightly embarrassed but excited at having got so close just for a moment. “You’re so clever! I’ve been going around in circles for an hour.”

Cilla smiled. “I’m the office smart-arse, remember? Always fixing up other people’s work. You don’t hate me too, do you?”

“No, of course not! I just appreciate your help.”

“Ah! I know what to do,” said Cilla. She went to the end of the document, selected an ornate font at size 100 and typed ‘Clever Cilla Did This’.

Elizabeth laughed. “What if I print that out and put it on the notice-board?”

Cilla laughed too, quickly deleting it and getting up. “Let’s go.” Elizabeth saved and backed up her precious document. At last they could get going. This was the happiest day that Elizabeth could remember for a long time. Yet she was nervous, realising that the happiness was in the anticipation of things rather than in their actual occurrence. She wanted to let Cilla know of her feelings and see how she reacted. But should she wait for a few more times, not rush in on their first evening together and spoil everything? She was almost afraid of for the first time being alone with Cilla in the privacy of her flat.

Elizabeth’s unit was in Dianella and there was no train, only a bus that would lurch tortuously through the crush of traffic at this time on a Friday. As they walked the few blocks to the bus station, Elizabeth blurted out “Cilla, do you think I’m pretty?” She immediately regretted this; they were not even on the bus yet. What had got into her?

Cilla looked sideways at her friend and smiled slyly. Did Elizabeth fancy someone in the office? “I’m sure a lot of guys would think so, Lizbeth.”

“But, do you think I’m pretty?”

Cilla was mystified again. Why would it matter much what she thought? She looked more seriously at Elizabeth and replied “Yes, I do, Lizbeth. I’d like to be tall, and blonde, like you.”

Elizabeth was startled by the idea that Cilla would want to be other than she was. “But - but Cilla, you’re so beautiful. Why would you want to change anything?”

Cilla was once again embarrassed to hear Elizabeth calling her beautiful. She covered this by chattering on. “Well, being a bit taller would be useful in many ways. And I think I could do more with my hair if it were blonde, and straight. Although I know it’s nice hair. I just would like to have more choices. If I were blonde and straight-haired, I could try black or brown or curly sometimes, then go back to being a blonde.”

Elizabeth could see the logic in this. She had sometimes thought of trying different colours, but hadn’t yet dared. She also thought about Cilla’s reply to her earlier question. Did Cilla think her pretty in the sense of being someone she liked looking at, or only in the sense of being someone she would like to look like?

They reached the bus. They got a seat together right down the back.

“Do you always catch the bus to work, Lizbeth?”

“Sometimes I take the car in, but I hate the traffic at peak hours. Do you have a car?”

“No. I’m licenced, but I can do without one for now and I want to save my money for studies and to get myself some real estate. That’s my priority - a house of my own. Preferably close to public transport, so I can continue to do without a car while I pay my loan off quickly.”

As the bus wended its complicated way out of the city centre, Elizabeth, in a proprietorial way, pointed out various things along the route and chattered about them. Cilla found it interesting - she generally travelled only a few well-worn paths between home, work, shops, beach and classes and didn’t get around the city much. It was good for her to make this break in her routine. She sometimes thought that she lived like an older person, set in her ways and routines. But she expected that life would change when she got through this period. She would get qualified, get better jobs, buy a house, find a husband, have children, travel. Maybe get into local government.

She expressed these thoughts to Elizabeth, who was pleased that she was doing so but wanted to dwell on the subject of Cilla’s expectations of future marriage.

“Do you think you’ll meet a man you really want, some day?”

“I don’t see why not. Most women do. When I’m ready, qualified, got my house, financially secure, good job, then I’ll make the effort to go out to places where I can meet plenty of men. Right now, I’m not ready. I don’t want to be dependent on a man. I want to have my own things so that if anything happens to the relationship I’ll be all right. I might be sad but not destitute.”

“But, if a marriage breaks up, doesn’t your ‘ex’ get half the property?”

“Half the marital property, yes. But if you arrange it right, you can have property in your own name that you keep intact, no matter what. There was a woman in my last job who kept her maiden name after marriage so that she could keep all her property, whatever happened.”

Elizabeth thought this sounded cold and materialistic. “What about love, and trust, and giving yourself fully?”

“Maybe those things have a better chance if people don’t have cause to worry about their survival if the relationship breaks up. Or, if people don’t rush into marriage with a person with more assets, expecting to get half those assets after the breakup. Anyway, there wasn’t any more love and trust and so on in the good old days. But in those days there were strong outside forces pushing people into marriage and holding marriages together. Those forces have all but gone. It’s like the way our jobs are going. If your performance drops, or you don’t get on with the boss, or the boss finds someone they think would be better, out you go.”

This dissertation was interrupted by Elizabeth suddenly leaping for the bell as the bus rounded a corner. “Our stop! First one after this corner.”

As they walked away from the bus stop, Cilla continued “I’ve been doing a unit of Family Law. I had to do an assignment on marriage, historically and today.”

Elizabeth’s unit was in a medium-sized block a short walk down a side street from the main road where they had got off. It wasn’t a dreary ghetto block; there was no huge wall covered with small windows too close to each other. It was only three storeys high, all the units had balconies and there were pleasant trees and lawns.

Elizabeth got her letters, checked her car and they went up one flight of steps, in through a door and along a passage to her unit.

“Ta-da!” said Elizabeth, waving her arm, as they entered.

The place was extremely clean and tidy. Cilla couldn’t believe that anyone actually lived like this so Elizabeth must have been hard at work this past week.

There were a living room, a dining-kitchen area, a large bedroom, a small bedroom, a bathroom and a small laundry with a toilet opening off it. The balcony had two wicker chairs and a wicker table. It overlooked a little park with swings and a slide.

The paintwork and soft furnishings were in light pastel shades. The furniture was light and elegant but looked comfortable. Rows of books gleamed on a big shelf against one wall. Numerous pictures and posters adorned the other walls. Some were copies of old paintings, some were enlarged photographs of Hollywood stars or popular singers, but all were of beautiful women.

Cilla walked across the soft pretty Persian carpet. “This is really pleasant,” she said, and meant it. “Are you renting or buying?”

“Renting.”

“Did the furniture come with it?”

“No, that’s all mine. I even chose the colours when they repainted.”

Cilla peeped into the large bedroom, Elizabeth’s bedroom. It smelt nice and fresh and scented. The doona on the queen-size bed looked new. There were even fresh roses in a vase beside the bed, next to the tissues. Cilla was surprised to see this. Did Elizabeth sleep with a vase of roses beside her each night? Or had she been thinking that Cilla might sleep over? Cilla hadn’t planned to sleep over. She hoped she wouldn’t be asked, because it would be difficult to say no if Elizabeth had gone to a lot of trouble to prepare this room for her. Cilla wanted to get home at a reasonable time, rise early to get the shopping and chores done, then concentrate on her studies for a few hours before her meeting.

“It’s really nice. You’ve got good taste. I like the pictures.” She didn’t ask why there was not one man among the people portrayed. It seemed odd.

“Thanks. When I see one that takes my fancy, I buy it and get it laminated if it’s a poster, so it doesn’t get tatty. Would you like some tea, or coffee?” asked Elizabeth, going into the kitchen.

“Yes. I mean, a cup of tea would be nice, Lizbeth.” Cilla was distracted - she was looking at the books. There were several big glossy ones containing reproductions of paintings. There were many about love, healing, finding yourself. A row of shiny bound encyclopedias occupied most of one shelf. Then there were novels, not cheap literature but works by Thomas Hardy, George Eliot, Doris Lessing, Iris Murdoch among others. There was a big volume entitled Larousse Gastronomique.

When Elizabeth brought the tea they sat down. Elizabeth sat on her couch and Cilla sat facing her, in an armchair. “I’ve got a special dinner planned for tonight, Cilla dear,” said Elizabeth. “I’ve done most of the preparation, so it won’t take long. It’s Marengo Chicken. I got the recipe out of Larousse. Oh -” she paused with some concern. “I hope you aren’t on some special diet, or can’t you eat certain things?”

“No! As long as it keeps me on my feet, I don’t care what it is.” Cilla laughed, then saw that Elizabeth was more taken aback than amused. “I’m sorry, Lizbeth, that’s just my silly joke. Of course I appreciate a special meal. But I’m not much of a cook and mostly what I do for myself is simple and dull. Sometimes I go out and get takeaways. I’ll really enjoy your chicken.”

Elizabeth smiled. She must not be too sensitive if Cilla was given to such abrupt remarks. “I had to simplify it somewhat. Larousse can’t always be followed literally in modern homes. There is one recipe for blancmange, that takes about three days and calls for teams of servants pulling on each end of a big roll of muslin. The book was written ages ago for rich nobles, or their cooks.”

Elizabeth watched Cilla as they sipped their tea. She was so excited to have Cilla here in her unit, to be able just to sit and look at her and talk to her without anyone around, without office work and routine interrupting. Cilla was wearing a short skirt and black sheer stockings today. She sat with one leg crossed over the other. After taking a sip of tea she would lift her chin and shake her hair. Elizabeth felt that she had never looked at anything so ineffably beautiful as Cilla this evening. She sighed and her eyes shone.

Cilla looked across at her friend, couldn’t fail to notice that she was deeply moved. It seemed that she was pleased to have Cilla with her but again, Cilla couldn’t see that it was such a big deal. Elizabeth looked like someone in one of those Jane Austen movies who had just met the love of their life. Cilla looked curiously at Elizabeth, smiled at her. She wanted to understand what moved her. But she couldn’t think of questions that would be appropriate. If she asked something direct like “Why do you gaze at me like that?” it might lead to a difficult exchange and a ruined evening. Better to talk about something else.

Cilla’s direct look and smile only intensified Elizabeth’s feeling, so she did not immediately respond when Cilla said “I like your books!” She didn’t take in the remark. Eventually she said “What? Sorry.”

“I said, I like your books. And your pictures. Have you done art at school?”

“No. I just took an interest in it, after.”

“Are you studying anything now?”

“No, I haven’t decided what. I only passed my Tertiary Admission exam. last year.”

“How come?”

“I didn’t finish it at school. I left, then came back to it later. Got it done in one year, at night-school.”

“Did you leave school to get a job?” Elizabeth didn’t seem to mind that Cilla was asking all these questions. She seemed to accept them.

Elizabeth was thinking that this was a way into the subject that was on her mind. She hoped Cilla would keep the questions coming. She didn’t want just to start telling a long story that might not be acceptable. It would be better if she could tell it in bits, in response to questions from Cilla. If the questions stopped, then Cilla had heard enough for now and Elizabeth would not tell her any more than she wanted to know.

“No. I was going all right, was going to finish Year 12, then I had a disaster. Got ill, had to leave, go away for a while.”

Cilla leaned forward, looking at Elizabeth, concerned. Elizabeth didn’t want to go into the nature of the disaster without further prompting. Cilla didn’t want to be intrusive. After a silence Cilla said, “Am I asking too many questions? I didn’t mean to be a sticky-beak.”

Elizabeth smiled. “No, no, I don’t mind talking about it, but I didn’t know if you wanted to hear about it. It’s all emotional stuff, and it’s past, and I wouldn’t want to dump it on a guest.” Actually Elizabeth wanted to talk about it, to get to what she wanted to tell Cilla, but she wanted to be sure that Cilla wanted to hear and was not just being polite and getting hungrier by the minute. “Perhaps I’d better get on and cook your dinner.”

Cilla had caught the phrase, emotional stuff. Elizabeth’s emotional stuff was just what she was curious to hear about. “It’s early yet!” she said. “Tell me about it. If I get bored, you’ll know - I’ll yawn, check my watch and start rummaging around for food.”

Elizabeth smiled at Cilla’s joke. Then she took a deep and slightly tremulous breath. Now she would take the plunge.

“Well, Cilla, I fell in love. With a teacher. But it all went horribly wrong.” Elizabeth had said it was past, but as soon as she began to give it spoken form, for the first time in years, it welled up in her mind again, that dreadful spring and summer when she was seventeen. She had to stop speaking.

Cilla saw Elizabeth’s distress. “Don’t, don’t say any more if it’s too much. I didn’t know it was anything like that.” Cilla had had no such experience at any time in her life but it sounded distressing.

Elizabeth pulled herself together. “It’s not too much. I just haven’t spoken about it for years, even in my head.” She paused. “We used to meet, after school. Then - then she wanted to end the relationship. So - so I got really upset, and stupid, and went and cried to my parents about it. So they started a fuss, and the teacher was sacked, and I had a breakdown. I couldn’t do my exams that year.”

There. It was out. Elizabeth could see the puzzled frown on Cilla’s face.

Cilla was confused. “Who wanted to end what relationship?”

“The teacher. She wanted to end her relationship with me.” It couldn’t be clearer than that.

Cilla stared at Elizabeth. Then she dropped her eyes. Didn’t want to be rude. Didn’t know what to say.

The two young women sat silently opposite each other. Finally Cilla said “You said you were in love, with her.”

“Yes.”

They sat in silence for a while longer. Then Elizabeth decided she had to go on. “I’ve never been moved in that way by a man or boy. I’ve never met a man who could make me feel that. I think I can only feel that way about another woman.”

Things were becoming clear to Cilla. She prompted, “Have you felt that way about a woman, since this teacher?”

Now Elizabeth looked straight at Cilla and nodded. This discussion was coming close to the critical, dangerous moment. But it had gone well so far. There was no help for it.

Cilla blushed when she saw Elizabeth’s look. She felt goosebumps on her arms and shivered a bit. “Tell me,” she said softly.

Elizabeth drew a breath, said “I love you, Cilla,” then let the rest of the breath out with a rush and dropped her eyes.

They now sat in silence for some minutes. Cilla looked at Elizabeth, at the pictures on the walls, at the clock, back to Elizabeth, who still hadn’t raised her eyes again. Cilla was in a ferment of thoughts and feelings.

No-one had ever told her they loved her. She didn’t know that anyone ever had loved her. The men who ogled her as she went about perhaps desired her in a casual way but that wasn’t love. She was moved by Elizabeth’s declaration, but disturbed by it. She had always thought that when the experience of being ‘in love’ came to her it would be with a man, and it would mean wanting to be together, make love, bear children together, share a life. But she wasn’t disgusted or repelled by another woman being ‘in love’ with her. She just didn’t know what it meant, or could mean. Anyway, she didn’t feel contempt or any desire to laugh at Elizabeth.

Eventually all she said was “That explains a lot.”

This broke the difficult silence and Elizabeth looked up at her.

Cilla went on. “The way you’re always touching me in the office, and calling me dear, and love. The way you over-react when I accept one of your invitations, or come to see you, or say something like, we’re a team. And that time we had lunch in the park.”

Elizabeth blushed as she remembered the incident. Cilla didn’t miss much.

“I was bare-legged that day, and my dress rode up when I dozed off. I woke up and found you looking just like you were perving at me.”

Elizabeth was offended now. “That’s a crude way of putting it.”

Cilla was contrite. She wasn’t attacking Elizabeth, just having a discussion, exploring the matter. “I’m sorry, Lizbeth, I’m not meaning to get at you. Shall I say, looking at me, er, deriving sensual pleasure, from looking at me. Like a guy would. Was I right?”

Elizabeth nodded.

“You looked like you wanted to touch me. Did you? Want to?”

“Yes.”

“But you didn’t do it.”

“No! Of course not.”

“Why not?”

“That would have been the end. You’d never have spoken to me after.”

“Well - it would have been too brutal a way of telling me how you felt! This discussion was better.”

All this was obvious, really. Elizabeth was to get to know this way that Cilla had, of asking a lot of questions, of articulating things that were obvious, to help her understand and cope with issues.

Cilla went on “Had you been a man, I’d not have carelessly raised my knees and gone to sleep. Unless I was ‘on’ with him, or was trying to get him going. My behaviour would have been provocative. You didn’t think I was teasing you, did you?”

“No!”

“I honestly didn’t know how you felt until this conversation.”

“I know that, love.”

They were silent for a while longer. Then Cilla thought of something else. “I appreciate your courage, in telling me how you feel. You must have thought there was a chance I would be disgusted, or laugh at you, and want to leave straight away, and you wouldn’t even have the friendship left.”

Elizabeth shook her head. “Many people would react that way. But I would have driven you home if you’d wanted to go, no matter how you felt or how you reacted. And I would still have been on your side in the office, tried to help you, even if you didn’t want me near you.”

Cilla was moved by this. She got up and came over and sat on the couch with Elizabeth, plonking herself down rather suddenly so that she bumped against Elizabeth and the couch bounced a little. She took Elizabeth’s hand, to that one’s delight. She leaned her head on Elizabeth’s shoulder. They were both close to tears.

They sat quietly in this magic interlude. Cilla broke the spell.

“Well, that’s the difficult part of the evening successfully got over! Maybe I’d better let you get on and cook the chicken meringue.”

“Marengo,” said Elizabeth.

“What?”

“It’s not meringue. It’s marengo. Larousse says it was invented by Napoleon Bonaparte’s cook, after the battle of Marengo, in, er, Italy I think.”

Cilla laughed. Elizabeth loved her laugh. “I thought it was going to be done in some thick sweet batter! I was going to be brave and say it was very nice.”

“Oh, never do that, Cilla, unless you really like it. I’d rather have an honest opinion.”

Half an hour later the meal was on the table, along with candles and wine and flowers. Cilla was impressed. “How did you manage that? I thought you’d be messing about - I mean busy, for much longer.”

Elizabeth smiled. “After I got better, you know, after having to leave school, I had a few different jobs. I worked in a food court for a few months. I learnt something about cooking and a lot about organisation and speed, in catering. Customers who didn’t want the combination stuff could order a single dish, from a menu, and we’d get it to the table in five minutes.”

Cilla found the meal delicious, and said so. They drank most of the bottle of riesling with it, then the rest as they enjoyed Elizabeth’s caramel mousse.

By this time it was mid-evening and a cold wind had sprung up outside. Elizabeth stacked the dishes, said “I’ll do them tomorrow,” then went to turn on the fan heater. Cilla went to sit on the couch, not the single chair where she had first sat.

Elizabeth stood up and turned around. Cilla was smiling at her, patting the couch. “Let’s talk some more about things.”

Cilla had been thinking during dinner. She had faced the fact that physical love was here for the taking, for her, if she wanted it. How did she feel about it? From another woman, a workmate? She had still been unable to feel disgust or revulsion. She had looked at Elizabeth with new eyes and tried to imagine being held, stroked, even kissed by her. The idea seemed more and more appealing. After all, what could a woman really do to another woman? Cilla needed physical love as much as anyone, but she had never met a man who had aroused her to feel that she could give herself. One time she had liked a boy enough to want to kiss him, but he had turned urgently demanding, strong, angry and pressed his hard erection against her, with all its potential for ruining her life for the sake of his momentary pleasure. She had been frightened and had not seen him again.

Now this gentle, kind tall blonde girl wanted to love her. Why not? Cilla couldn’t see Elizabeth harming her or spoiling her life in any way. She decided at least to get back on the couch with her and talk further about it, be held by her and take it step by step. It was always possible to stop, go away and think about it some more.

Elizabeth sat carefully beside Cilla, not touching her, as though she were afraid of breaking something. Cilla immediately moved against her and took her hand.

“Lizbeth, I don’t know if I’ll ever feel for you what you feel for me, though I like you. I never thought of myself as preferring women to men, as you said you do. I’ve always expected and hoped that I’ll fall in love with a man and have children of my own, and see that they get a better start in life than I did. I’ll never hit them or let my man hit them, and I’ll try to keep them with me whatever happens. What if I don’t ever love you, like in-love, or be your life’s partner?”

Elizabeth sighed. “I never expected that. I never expected you to accept my feelings as much as you have done. I didn’t know if I would ever be able to tell you how much I love you.”

Cilla became emotional again on hearing this. She put up her hand and stroked Elizabeth’s hair. It felt lovely. “Hold me, Lizbeth.”

They moved into each other’s arms, Elizabeth shuddering with joy and clasping Cilla tightly. She felt tears starting again. No matter what happens for the rest of my life, she thought, nothing can ever take away the ecstasy of this moment. She buried her face in Cilla’s hair and inhaled deeply. She began kissing Cilla’s neck and cheeks.

Each kiss was sending pleasure through Cilla’s body in a way that the urgent kisses of that young man had not. Why, she thought, was it because I was afraid of him, while I’m not afraid of Lizbeth? Here I’m allowing myself to feel what I’m feeling. But if I were normal this shouldn’t please me. She wished she knew some happily married women whom she could ask, had this ever happened to them before they met their husband? How did they feel about it? Did they enjoy it? Did it make it harder for them to get married later? Could it still happen, though they were happily married to a man?

She pulled back and looked at Elizabeth, wanting to start more discussion and express more doubts and ask more questions. But the look on Elizabeth’s face stopped her. No, she thought, I can’t go on about it any more. We’ve had our time for talk. Elizabeth, misreading Cilla’s intent, turned her head and kissed Cilla lightly on the lips.

They sat and gazed at each other for some time, while Elizabeth savoured this moment of their first kiss and Cilla felt a furious battle going on within her, between desire and reason. At last Cilla sighed, placed her hand around Elizabeth’s head and tilted her own head back a little, lips parted, in a way that unmistakably said, all right, kiss me more.

Now they pressed their mouths together and kept them that way for some time, lips gradually parting, tongues meeting. When that man had pushed his tongue into Cilla’s mouth she had been revolted. She hadn’t known that people kissed like that. But with Elizabeth it happened so gently and so sweetly that she felt only delight.

At last Cilla pulled away and they sat without speaking for some minutes. Already they knew they had crossed a divide, holding each other and kissing like that. Elizabeth was nearly overwhelmed with the joy of what had just happened and anticipation of more to come. But Cilla was still full of inner conflict. Should she let herself be carried up the hill and down the other side? What lay there? Could she get back? Take a chance! Take a risk! What can happen that you are so afraid? She wanted to talk again.

“Lizbeth,” she began softly. “I’m still a virgin. Technically, anyway. Though I suppose what my foster-father did was a violation. Taking my clothes off, looking at me. I suppose it was sexual, the pleasure he got flailing my skinny butt with his stick.”

Elizabeth was distressed at this being brought up again. She wished she had been there to hit the man, with a brick. She said, “Didn’t that experience put you off men for life?”

“No -” Cilla paused. “I hope not. I wouldn’t want to allow it to. I believe too many people wallow in past trauma, let it bog them down, use it as an excuse for failures and even crimes of their own. I believe we should get over it, get on.”

Elizabeth wondered if belief were enough, but didn’t voice her doubts - she didn’t want to be negative.

“So,’ Cilla continued, “My sole sexual experience with a man has been, that, being hit. He didn’t caress me, or anything.”

Elizabeth’s response was natural. “You won’t -” then she checked herself.

Cilla turned to her. “What?”

“Er - nothing.”

“What won’t I?”

“I - I just thought of saying, you won’t get anything but caresses from me.”

Cilla laughed. “Won’t I now? I can see why you stopped, Lizbeth. You thought that remark would be a bit forward. Well, maybe, but, I suppose, we’ve kissed, I don’t see why you can’t caress me if you want to.”

Elizabeth eagerly but gently took Cilla in her arms again and began to move her hands over her shoulders, arms, legs. But there was little satisfaction in it for them. Cilla knew now what would have to be the next step. Unless she broke off and asked to be taken home now. She pushed Elizabeth away and looked at her.

Cilla was actually composing in her head some way of kindly suggesting it was late and that perhaps she should go home now. But every time she looked at Elizabeth, the expression on Elizabeth’s face favoured one side over the other in her inner conflict. So after a pause, all she said was, “We’re not feeling a lot of skin, are we, Lizbeth? Winter clothes.” Upon which she stood up and took off her blouse, revealing her lacy bra. She looked down and to hide her anxious excitement at doing this, said “I haven’t got such bad boobs for a little runt, have I?” She looked up again and saw Elizabeth’s face and laughed. “I’d never say anything like that if you were really a boy and I were undressing for you! But I still see you as another girl, a mate, although you’re my lover as well.”

She stood, Elizabeth sat, facing each other. Cilla couldn’t put her blouse back on now. Well, she could, but why? And what now?

Becoming serious, she lifted her skirt and removed her hose, so that her legs were bare. Then she came back and sat on Elizabeth’s lap and kissed her.

“Feel free,” she whispered.

Elizabeth joyfully kissed and stroked Cilla. She began to stroke Cilla’s thighs. Cilla laughed softly. “This is what you were wanting to do that day in the park! Isn’t it nice to get what you want?” she whispered, her voice shaking with the strong arousal she was now feeling, something quite new to her. Elizabeth’s joy at kissing and caressing Cilla’s bare skin was equalled by Cilla’s intense ecstasy at the touch of Elizabeth’s hands and lips on her body.

Cilla parted her legs more and Elizabeth’s hand moved upwards and inwards. Cilla stroked her hair and kissed her, wanting to give herself. She whispered “Lizbeth?”

“Mm?”

“I’m sorry, you must be thinking, why doesn’t she just shut up.”

Elizabeth stopped caressing Cilla and pulled away, looking at her. “No! In fact, I’m worried that I’m taking advantage of you.”

“Why so? I’m an adult. I’m free to choose what I do.”

“But you’ve been abused, and deprived of close relationships.”

“Well, I’m not aware of being damaged by it. No, no. But I think we’ve reached the stage where I’ll either have to go, or stay, if you know what I mean.”

Elizabeth pulled her back, embraced her gently. “I’ll drive you home now, if that’s what you want. Maybe we can try again some time, maybe never. I’ll still love you, there won’t be any problems from me. I’m just so happy with what’s been, here tonight. If there’s never anything more, then I’ll treasure the memory of tonight, always.”

After a minute Cilla pulled away and looked at Elizabeth. “I want to stay. If you were - if you had - I mean -” She giggled with embarrassment.

“I understand, Cilla. We’re both women. But there are ways.”

“Well, I want to have a shower, then get into your bed. Then I want you to get into it with me. Then I’d like to take those ways, with you.” Cilla sighed, tremulously. “How does that sound?”

“Oh, darling. You don’t have to shower.”

“Yes I do. Bear with me. I’ve been at work all day, I don’t feel clean. We can get the mood back. I won’t change my mind while I’m in the shower. I want to do this. OK?”

“Of course, darling. My room has an ensuite.”

“Does it? So you’ve got two bathrooms?”

“Yes.”

Cilla got up, picked up her clothes, went to Elizabeth’s room and turned on the light. Then she saw the new doona cover, the clean room, the fresh roses. She turned back and looked seriously at Elizabeth.

“Lizbeth. Did you know the evening was going to end up this way?”

“No! Never in my wildest dreams. Why?”

“Roses beside the bed, new doona cover, scent, everything so nice.”

“Cilla, I just thought you might end up not wanting to go home and would sleep over. I wanted you to have my bed. I was going to sleep in the other room. Look!” Elizabeth got up to show Cilla the spare room. She looked rather upset.

“No, no, I’m sorry, Lizbeth. When I saw your room so nice earlier, of course I only thought you wanted to be ready in case I might sleep over. It’s just that, the way things have worked out, it’s just perfect for what we’ve got in mind, isn’t it?” Cilla smiled and went quickly back into Elizabeth’s room to have her shower, before this developed into an argument and spoiled everything.

Elizabeth had been wanting to protest some more but this intention and its cause quickly faded from her mind as she heard the sound of the shower and anticipated the joy to come.

She looked around her familiar flat, the furniture, the books. She fiddled with a magazine on the table. She listened to the sound of Cilla in the shower. She felt light-headed. What she had longed for was about to happen. It should be the high point of her life, and she desired it strongly. It should make everything right after all the hard, sad years since she had left school. Yet Elizabeth was afraid. She almost wanted to go back to yesterday, to loving, and desiring Cilla, but not taking the risk of having her and threatening the stable life she had worked so hard to create.

The shower stopped and there was silence for a minute or two, with only the sighing of the winter wind around the flats. Then the bathroom door opened, little footsteps patted across the floor and the bed creaked and rustled.

Elizabeth finally got up, staggering a little. She walked into the bedroom. “Brrr,” said Cilla, who was under the doona with only her eyes showing and her glorious hair spread over the pillow.

Elizabeth turned off the light and started to undress. When she was down to her underwear she went into the shower. After a few minutes she came out with a towel wrapped around her. Neither of them seemed to want to appear naked in front of the other.

Elizabeth climbed gently into bed and tossed the towel out. She startled Cilla, who had actually fallen asleep. “Oh, hi, Lizbeth. I must have dozed off. It’s been a long day.” Just as though they were an old married couple of many years.

They lay there quietly for some time. Neither of them spoke or touched the other.

“You were right, Lizbeth,” said Cilla at last. “We should have come straight in here and got on with it, no showers. I’ve gone off the boil now. My main thought now is, just what the hell are we doing?”

They were silent for a while longer. Then Elizabeth said “Would you like me to drive you home?”

“Would you?”

“If you really want to go. It’s like I said, before.”

Cilla now groped for Elizabeth’s hand and held it. “No, no. But let’s go back a bit, and take it slowly. Move your head over here and kiss me.”

When they started kissing it didn’t take long to recover the mood of the couch. Gradually Elizabeth moved closer, took Cilla in her arms and felt the full length of her sweet body against hers, unresisting. Now they were totally free.

“Wooo, Lizbeth,” sighed Cilla. “I want - I just feel like letting go.”

They held each other tightly, moving against each other and kissing deeply for a long time. Cilla felt she was coming to a peak of pleasure that was almost unbearable. But she couldn’t quite reach it.

“Lizbeth - do whatever you want - whatever it takes.”

Elizabeth threw aside the doona - they were too hot now anyway. She began kissing Cilla’s body, moving down, until she was clasping Cilla’s thighs and exploring them with her lips and hands. Cilla moaned and spread her thighs widely. Now Elizabeth began to give her the loving she had longed to give.

Cilla was too aroused to be shocked. She convulsed into a powerful orgasm, crying out, not able to bother about what was happening to her or who could hear her. Then she cried out “Stop! Stop, Lizbeth, it’s - oh - “ she drew her legs together and tried to roll away. Elizabeth let her go immediately and resumed lying beside her.

Cilla lay with her eyes closed, breathing heavily, her heart pounding. When she had told Elizabeth to do whatever it took, she didn’t know it would mean that. She had never heard of such a thing. Just as well she had had a shower. But still. Even so. But it had been lovely.

She opened her eyes to see Elizabeth’s head over hers, making as though to kiss her again. Cilla pushed her away. “No, Lizbeth. Could you - I’m sorry, bear with me, but could you go and wash before kissing me again? I’m not trying to be nasty. It’s just me. You know.”

This upset Elizabeth. It broke the mood of freedom and accepting that she thought had existed. Also, she was still highly aroused, and couldn’t expect Cilla to do anything for her. But she could understand Cilla’s feelings and she was determined not to show hers. She got up and went to the bathroom, addressed her needs as quietly and quickly as she could, then washed. When she came back, she pulled the doona back over both of them and took Cilla in her arms again as though to settle down for sleep in the way of a romantic novel: ‘The lovers fell into a delicious sleep, entwined in each others’ arms’.

But they didn’t do that in this reality. Cilla was wide awake and feeling tense and hemmed in. Her mood was different now. She had asked for this experience, wanted it, but now she wanted to be by herself, cool down come back to earth and think about things. But she couldn’t ask Elizabeth to get up on this late cold night and drive her home, then drive all the way back again, alone.

Elizabeth wasn’t asleep either. She could feel Cilla’s mood and it made her anxious. Should this encounter have happened? They needed to talk, but where to start?

Cilla broke the uncomfortable silence. “Lizbeth, I’ve never slept with someone else in the bed. I’m not used to it. Would you mind if I took the spare bed?”

Elizabeth sat up. “I could still drive you home, if you like, dear.”

Cilla hesitated. She had not intended to stay out all night. She had never stayed a night away from her flat since moving in. But no. It would be silly. “No, Lizbeth, I’ll sleep well enough here and go home in the morning. It’s too late and there are bad drivers around now. I’d worry about you. But I might take the spare bed.”

Elizabeth got up now. “I always wanted you to have my bed if you stayed over, Cilla. I’ll take the spare bed. All right?”

Cilla didn’t protest. She smiled and said. “Goodnight then.” Elizabeth kissed her. “Sleep well, dearest.”

They had parted affectionately so Elizabeth soon fell asleep in the spare room. Cilla lay awake for some time, her mind in tumult with the events of the evening. Eventually she drifted off to sleep.

The next morning Elizabeth slept late. Suddenly she started awake and looked at her watch. It was nine o’clock already. She jumped out of bed, grabbed a warm dressing-gown and went into the main room.

Cilla was sitting fully clothed, but with a blanket around her, in the chair where she had first sat the previous evening. She was staring at one of Elizabeth’s art books, but her face looked glum and inattentive. She didn’t look at Elizabeth.

“Cilla, I’m sorry. How long have you been waiting?”

“No problem. I’ve been awake since seven, but I didn’t want to wake you. There’s no rush, it’s the weekend.” In fact Cilla had been wanting to get going and get on with her day, and thought of creeping out and getting an early bus, but decided to wait.

Elizabeth sat down on the couch, facing Cilla, who still didn’t look at her. “Do you want breakfast?”

Cilla shook her head without speaking. Elizabeth persisted. “What’s the matter?”

Cilla sighed. “I’m overwhelmed with what happened last night. I don’t know what it all means or how I feel about it. It was different from what I expected. I don’t know what I expected. I can’t even look you in the face, thinking where that face has been.”

Elizabeth blushed. What had seemed to her intensely beautiful and intimate had left Cilla with a different feeling, and now it seemed bizarre and embarrassing. Perhaps she shouldn’t have rushed to that on the first encounter. Clearly Cilla didn’t know much about these things and didn’t know what her “do what you want” might possibly mean.

Cilla gave voice to that thought. “I learnt about sex at school, like everybody else, but I’m inexperienced, ignorant of the practicalities of it. I don’t know about the varieties, the different things people do.”

“Many ordinary married couples do that, Cilla.”

“I daresay.”

After another silence Cilla went on. “I suppose one advantage of a woman having another woman for a lover should be, that a woman knows what a woman wants. I might not know much but I’m aware that I left you high and dry last night. I’m sorry for that, Lizbeth.”

Elizabeth smiled. She felt better from hearing this. “It was okay.”

“We should have had hours of loving, to mutual satisfaction, then fallen asleep in each others’ arms. As it was, I couldn’t go on, and I couldn’t sleep. It’s just me. I’m the failure in this whole episode.”

“You’re not a failure, I’m the one who rushed things. You were wonderful.”

Now Cilla briefly raised her eyes to Elizabeth’s and smiled. Elizabeth’s heart leapt. “I’m not saying this is the end, Lizbeth. I’m just explaining how I feel. I just need to work it out. We’ll see each other at work, and - and - “ Cilla shrugged. “You know.”

Elizabeth wondered how things would go if they didn’t happen to work in the same office. She got up. It was time to leave it for now, drive Cilla home, though she really wanted her to stay forever. She got a bit of paper, wrote down her telephone number and gave it to Cilla. “I’ll drive you home now, love. You can ring me any time you want a chat.”

“Oh, I can get a bus if you like, Lizbeth.”

Elizabeth laughed. “Don’t worry, I won’t expect to stay. I know what you feel just now. Some other time, maybe.”

Cilla tried to make conversation on the way home. She didn’t feel like talking but wanted to keep communication going with her friend, wanted to keep her as a friend at least, though she had intense conflicting feelings over the new thing that had happened last night. They couldn’t go through the long drive home, through the tedious Saturday traffic, in glum silence. Cilla chattered about things they saw on the way, the weather, what she was going to do that day, what she thought of the book she had been reading that morning.

At last, guided by Cilla, Elizabeth turned into the car park of Cilla’s block of units. No-one was about. She turned the engine off and sat with her hands in her lap, looking down at them. She didn’t want to be parted from Cilla but had nothing to say now. Cilla didn’t want to get out without saying something. But what? Eventually she blurted “Lizbeth, if we didn’t work in the same office, would you want to see me again?”

Elizabeth was surprised. This was what she had been wondering. “Of course, darling. I love you. I’ll always want to see you.”

“Even if - I’m not saying that’s what I’ve decided, but even if, er, we didn’t - we were no more than friends, in the usual sense?”

“Of course. Look, my love, let me make this clear. I never expected last night to happen. I’ll treasure it always, no matter what the future holds for me. If there was anything wrong, it was my mistake. I rushed headlong into things that should have waited, should have been discussed and approached gently. I spoilt it, really.”

“Well, I did say, do what you want, whatever it takes.” Cilla felt a small re-awakening of desire, remembering how she had felt and the circumstances when she had said this. “I suppose that’s when the discussion should have occurred, but do people in that situation usually stop and discuss things?”

Elizabeth smiled. “I suppose not.”

“Anyway, Lizbeth, I don’t need to tell you how lovely it was at the time. I just completely let go, for a minute. It was only afterwards, when my brain got back into gear, you know, I started having other feelings.”

They were both satisfied with this conversation. It was enough for now. Cilla checked that no-one was around and quickly kissed Elizabeth. “Have a good day! I’ll see you Monday.”

Elizabeth, full of love and yearning, watched Cilla walk away and skip up the stairs to her flat, then she drove sadly away to a weekend on her own.

After a few kilometres she felt overwhelmed by the events of the last day and night. She looked desperately for somewhere quiet to park, found it, stopped and wept freely for some time.

When she felt able to drive again she resumed her lonely journey to Dianella.

Alone in her flat, Cilla checked the time and thought of all the things she had to do, then sat down. Normally she looked forward to Saturday and threw herself with zest into the day’s routine. But now she felt restless, lonely, couldn’t be bothered. Her ordered, purposeful life had been invaded. Her body had been invaded. She tingled with shock as she thought of it - she had taken her clothes off and engaged in perverted activities with a female workmate, whom she would have to work with every day. Twenty four hours ago she had no idea of such a thing. She had strong mixed feelings, of panic at the possible consequences of what had occurred, and of desire for it to occur again.

She made a decision. It was long past time for her to have a man in her life. She would have to devote some of her valuable time to finding one whom she could desire, who would support her in the things she wanted to do and who would satisfy her need for physical love in a normal, healthy way.

When Cilla started to think of a man for herself, and the qualities that he should possess, she thought, if only Lizbeth were a man. Or if only there could be a man with Lizbeth’s qualities. Gentle, kind, generous, patient, devoted. Then Cilla started to think of Elizabeth’s nice hair, soft hands and sweet breath. She frowned. Cilla really wanted to believe that she was normal, would meet a man who aroused her and would have a successful, complete relationship with him. But she wondered about herself.

Anyway, the decision she had made lifted her mood and she was able to get on with her day.

As evening drew on, Cilla began to feel restless again. This ought to be the time that she looked forward to putting her feet up and watching television while eating takeaway food, or going out to a food hall and a movie or play or concert. But tonight she felt the lack of something more.

Her decision to seek a man had been in her mind all day. Now it occurred to her that if she were going to do it, tonight, Saturday night, would be a good time to start.

She wondered where she should go. She didn’t like the idea of a bar, or a ‘grab a granny’ singles club. There must be a place where young people went, to dance and meet. What about a disco? Also, she didn’t want to go anywhere by herself; but hadn’t anyone to go with. Unless . . .

Cilla remembered that Elizabeth had provided her telephone number. She thought about this for a while. Then she went to the telephone.

The telephone was picked up after only one ring. In truth, Elizabeth had been sitting by it for an hour, hoping for a call from Cilla. She didn’t feel the need to wait for a few more rings, or to disguise her delight when she heard the beloved high clear voice.

“Lizbeth?”

“Cilla!”

“How are you?”

“Good! You?”

Cilla hesitated, thinking about what to say. “I wanted to talk to you about something.”

Elizabeth just waited for her to go on, so she did. “You know, I still feel, er, that I want to find a man, and marry, eventually, and have children. I don’t know if I can commit myself to being, you know, er -”

“A lesbian?” Elizabeth supplied the word for her.

“Mm.” There was a long pause.

Elizabeth didn’t hang up or get upset so Cilla went on.

“So, I’ve decided to try to meet a man. I’ve never met one I fancied but I’ve never tried or given much thought to it. Perhaps if I concentrated on it for a while, it might happen.”

Still silence at the other end. “Lizbeth? Are you there?”

“Yes.”

“So, I want to go out tonight, to a disco or something similar, not a bar or singles club, just a place where people my age meet to have fun. Do you know of a good place to go?”

“Are you going by yourself?”

“Well -”

“Do you want me to come with you? Is that why you rang up?”

Cilla tensed. Was Lizbeth upset? Was there going to be a diatribe? She supposed she deserved one. “Yes, Lizbeth. I’m - I hope it’s not cruel and insensitive of me to ask you, to come with me so I can hunt for a boyfriend, but I think it’s what I need to do and I haven’t anyone else to ask.”

“Cilla, I only want what’s good for you, for you to have what makes you happy. If I can play a part in that, it makes me happy too. I wouldn’t want to tie you down in a relationship that you didn’t think was right for you. I’ll always be your friend at least, no matter what. If you have kids, I’ll want to enjoy them with you.”

Lizbeth’s voice shook at the end of this speech. She felt a mixture of intense joy at the thought of spending tonight with Cilla, mixed with intense pain at the prospect of going home alone while Cilla, lovely Cilla who would attract dozens of men, went home with one of them. She recovered herself. “I know a good place, no bad types, good music. Do you want me to pick you up?”

“Oh - another long drive out here today, for you. If you tell me where it is, can’t I get the train or bus?”

Elizabeth told Cilla where the disco was and they arranged for Cilla to be picked up from a train station, saving Elizabeth half the drive. “But can I bring you home, Cilla, if - “

“ - if I don’t go home with a guy? Thanks, yes, Lizbeth, unless we decide to go early enough for me to get a train.”

“Oh, Cilla, at night?”

“I quite often get trains and buses at night. I get looked at and sometimes followed but I always carry spare shoes and run if I have to. I’ve never had any trouble.”

“Well - we’ll see.”

Cilla finished some work and had a nap, so that at nine-thirty she was getting off the train to find Elizabeth parked nearby with the inside light on and the door open. She looked great. “Wow, Lizbeth, you’ll probably get a bit of male attention, looking like that.”

Elizabeth was radiant with delight at this compliment. When Cilla had got in and shut the door, turning the light off, she found herself wrapped in a passionate embrace. “Just in case this is my last chance,” sighed Elizabeth.

Cilla herself was dressed nicely as always but not in the showy way that was expected at discos. But to Elizabeth, and to the young men as they entered the disco, she still looked delicious. The two women attracted attention as they entered and soon got offers to dance. Elizabeth got right into it, but Cilla wasn’t used to this sort of thing and felt stiff and shy at first. A few drinks and a little practice relaxed her and she began to enjoy it.

The first man she danced with wanted to come back and sit with them, but Cilla wanted to meet as many men as possible and didn’t want to get cornered, so she didn’t encourage him. He was pleasant enough but she was looking for someone who would inspire in her some feeling, like in movies and stories, so that she wouldn’t want to look any further. She didn’t feel that way about him.

Elizabeth didn’t care, since she had already found the love of her life. She was quite happy to let a man sit with her and chat her up, not listening attentively. responding politely but briefly while she kept her eyes on Cilla. Eventually the man would give up, Elizabeth would have a few more dances then sit with another man for a while. She really wanted to dance with Cilla, but didn’t want to interfere with Cilla’s project. It wouldn’t have been out of place - a number of girls were dancing with other girls and a large mixed group danced the latest popular dance together.

Eventually Cilla, a little tipsy, glowing from her energetic activity, came back, a couple of men in tow, to sit with Elizabeth. She yelled to her friend above the music “Are you having a good time?”

“Yes. Are you?”

“Yes! But tell me when you want to go. I’m ready when you are.”

Elizabeth had enjoyed herself but had had enough and wanted to get out into the cool and quiet. She leaned over to Cilla’s ear. “Do you fancy anyone?”

The two young men were eying each other off as though there were something to fight over and win here, but Cilla wasn’t interested in them. “No, not tonight. Do you want the last dance with me?”

How lovely, she’s read my mind. “Yes!” They got up, abandoned their admirers and danced to a couple of numbers, Elizabeth dizzy with adoration of Cilla.

They were noticed on the dance floor. The tall blonde was pretty and well presented and the little dark girl was strikingly beautiful. But what really stood out was the look on Elizabeth’s face, the look that you’d expect to see directed upwards, to the face of the man who was the love of her life, but was instead directed downwards, to the face of the lovely small dark girl. No-one can mistake that look of love and no-one who has seen it ever forgets it.

Cilla was aware of the radiant face looking at her and of the curious faces looking at both of them. She felt aroused by the one and uncomfortable with the others. She remembered her wish during the day that she could meet a man just like Elizabeth, only for being a man. When the music changed she touched Elizabeth on the arm. “Shall we go now, Lizbeth? I think I’ve had enough for one night.”

The cold winter night, the darkness and silence outside were a shock after the noise and glare of the disco. Their ears were still ringing as they found Elizabeth’s car.

As they drove away, Cilla was thinking. There was still time to get a late train. If Elizabeth drove her all the way home she would have to be invited up, not just dumped in the car park like this morning. Then what? The same as last night? How would she feel about it afterwards? Where would it lead? Was it right? Yet Cilla desired it. It had made her feel intense pleasure that was entirely new to her. Time was running out. She spoke up.

“You could drop me back at that train station, Lizbeth, if you like, to save you a long round trip so late at night.”

Elizabeth slowed the car. She didn’t answer immediately. They had discussed this. “All right,” she said, “if you’re sure you’ll be safe.” She had been hoping just to keep driving until they were too far on the way to Cilla’s place to change plan. But she must respect Cilla’s right to decide for herself.

She took a left and they arrived in the station car park. They sat there to wait for the train.

Elizabeth at least felt compelled to bring up the subject in the few minutes that remained to her before being parted from Cilla. “If I were just your friend, Cilla, if last night hadn’t happened, there wouldn’t be any problem. I’d just drive you all the way home.”

“Not necessarily. Not at all. I’d still want you to save yourself a long drive, so late.”

Another pause.

“But I know what you mean. If you drove me all the way home I’d have to invite you up this time, not just leave you. Then, who knows?”

There was still no sign of the train.

“You could, Cilla. I could just say goodnight and drive home. No problem. I’m still there for you. Love -”

Elizabeth didn’t go on to say whatever she had been going to say about love. She took Cilla’s hand.

It was as though Elizabeth’s desire and sweet warmth were communicated through her hand. Cilla smelt her perfume and felt herself respond.

“When I was making my plan to find a man, today, I was thinking of the qualities I would like him to have. And I was thinking of you, Lizbeth. I wanted a man to be like you.”

Now the train came round the bend, its three lights blazing. It gave a friendly hoot. Cilla didn’t withdraw her hand or make any move to get out of the car.

Elizabeth didn’t state the obvious “There’s your train, Cilla.” They watched it silently as it hissed and groaned into the station, heard the announcement “Doors closing!” watched it move out again, pick up speed and disappear up the line.

“Well. That’s that,” said Cilla.

Elizabeth started the car and they drove on to Cilla’s.

Half an hour later they pulled into the car park of Cilla’s block of units. Neither of them had spoken a word the whole way. Elizabeth didn’t turn off the engine or take her hand off the wheel. She looked down, not at Cilla.

Cilla slowly reached out and turned off the engine. “Would you like to come up and see my unit, Lizbeth?” Her voice was husky.

They got out, secured the car and walked slowly up the one flight of stairs. “It’s quite tidy. Not as tidy as yours, but not too bad. It’s pretty small, but worth a lot in this area.”

Cilla let them in and turned on the light, revealing her spare, neat home. She locked the door behind them, put her arms around Elizabeth’s neck and looked into her eyes.

Elizabeth was warm despite the cold night, tense and trembling.

All this love and potential pleasure was here for Cilla, on a plate. There was no way Cilla could have let the bearer of it drive straight back home. Nor could she give her a quick cup of tea and let her out of the door. She wanted to take this gift, indulge herself, whatever the consequences. Who knew if what was here for her now would ever be offered again, or by a man? Take what you can, while it’s there for you.

“I saw those men looking at you in your gorgeous getup tonight, Lizbeth. I know what they wanted to do.” So saying, Cilla bent her head and buried her face in Elizabeth’s cleavage.

In the car on the way home she had thought of doing this, and had wondered how she would feel about it. Now she knew it was delightful. Did she really prefer women? Would she feel more pleasure if this were a man’s chest?

Elizabeth let out a high tremulous moan and staggered. Cilla thought she was going to faint.

“Lizbeth, I’ve only got a single bed, but we don’t need much space, do we?”

In bed they embraced, kissed and caressed each other intensely. Cilla knew what Elizabeth would want to do and made it clear to her that it could happen, even made it easier by getting into a more convenient position. This time it was even more pleasurable and not so shocking or frightening. Now Cilla felt able to sleep with Elizabeth, in her arms, relaxed and happy. But this time it was Elizabeth who seemed still tense and restless.

Cilla knew what the matter was - Elizabeth was still strongly aroused and hadn’t reached orgasm. This was going to need another discussion.

“Lizbeth, dear, I’ve left you hanging again, haven’t I? I - I don’t feel ready to - able to - ”

“I know, darling. I don’t expect that. Of course not. But perhaps you could, you know, touch me.”

Cilla thought about this. She knew she could, should, do it, and it would be easier subsequently, and pleasurable to please her friend in this way. She started to move her hand up Elizabeth’s soft thigh.

Elizabeth sensed hesitation and knew its cause. “I won’t be offended if you jump out of bed and go to the bathroom afterwards, darling,” she whispered.

Cilla laid her head on Elizabeth’s breasts and Elizabeth held her tightly. Cilla, at first hesitantly, then more confidently, did what Elizabeth had asked for. For the first time in her life she experienced wonderful intimacy, closeness, losing her boundaries. At last they fell into a delicious sleep, wrapped tightly about each other, not caring about the smallness of the bed or needing to go to the bathroom or the fact that both of them were long used to sleeping alone.

The cold winter dawn broke late. Elizabeth awoke first, opened her eyes and just for a moment didn’t remember where she was or what had happened. Then she saw the lovely dark curls against her face. She experienced complete bliss. On Friday night she had told Cilla after they had only kissed, that nothing could take away that moment in her life. But it had got even better. Would it last? Never mind, it was a miracle that this much had been granted to her.

After a few minutes Cilla stirred too. She lifted her head and regarded her friend gravely with her vivid blue eyes. “Lizbeth. That was lovely, last night.” But she seemed serious, not blissful like Elizabeth.

Cilla got up suddenly and went to the bathroom, where she stayed for a while. Elizabeth heard the sound of the shower and wondered if she should get up now.

Cilla came back and stood looking at Elizabeth. She was thinking whether she should get back into bed. Elizabeth was hoping that she would but couldn’t see Cilla’s face clearly, since the window was behind Cilla.

“Can I bring you coffee and toast in bed, Lizbeth?”

“Oh - yes, if you like, Cilla. But I could get up and save you trouble.”

“No trouble. Take it easy.”

After some minutes of noise and pleasant scents from the kitchenette Cilla reappeared with breakfast for them. Now she did get back into bed but to sit up and pull a big tray over both of them, so that they sat munching like an old married couple, side by side in bed on a Sunday morning.

Cilla broached the subject that was on her mind. “If I were serious about meeting a man, and if I had met one last night, I would have had to make room in my life for a relationship. But I’m not sure how much room I can or want to make.”

They ate in silence for a while. Elizabeth waited for more.

“I want to get on. I need to study, to get more qualifications, to meet people and get involved in things. I see politics in my future, Lizbeth. What do you think about that?”

“I don’t want to get in your way, darling. I just want to love you and try to help you in any way I can, whether I see you once a week or once a month or once a year.” Truly, Elizabeth didn’t know how she was going to bear being parted from Cilla for a minute after this weekend. But she would have to bear it, and not lose her love by expressing it too honestly. She went on. “But I think having a sexual relationship with another woman might be a problem, if you wanted to get into politics.”

“I don’t see why. Some male cabinet ministers have been generally known to be homosexual, but as long as they’ve been discreet and it hasn’t interfered with their job, everyone has been content to leave them alone. It would have been different fifty years ago but now, trying to make an issue out of it would backfire badly.”

Elizabeth was elated by this reply. She had feared that Cilla would say that her career would have to come first if there were any conflict. But Cilla seemed to be saying that she wanted to have this relationship with Elizabeth for the long term, even at some risk.

She put her arm around Cilla and kissed her. “Do I interpret that reply correctly, my love, or are you just speaking in general terms?”

Cilla didn’t respond immediately. She had been partly speaking in general terms, but she thought that some inner desire had spoken too; the same one that had made her telephone Elizabeth yesterday and suggest an evening out; the same one that had made her sit in Elizabeth’s car last night and watch the train leave without her. Sometimes we make decisions unconsciously yet continue to deceive ourselves that we are still consciously making them. It was time to stop dithering. Cilla pulled the breakfast tray over and dropped it onto the carpet. She turned to Elizabeth.

“Elizabeth, I can’t imagine that I’d ever meet anyone better than you, or that I’d ever know better loving than we had last night. Many people go through their whole lives without being loved like you love me, or experiencing anything like last night. I’ve either got to have a regular relationship with you or stop it now and never make love with you again. So. You see? The choice doesn’t even exist.”

Cilla embraced Elizabeth and pulled her down into the bed. They made love deliciously for another hour and a half, then fell into an exhausted sleep.

It was after eleven when Elizabeth awoke for the second time. Now the winter day was bright. Cilla slept on in her arms. Elizabeth knew she must wake her but wanted to enjoy this sweet moment quietly for a little while.

Cilla woke up after another minute, not languidly but with a start. Her eyes opened wide and she looked anxiously at the clock. Elizabeth let go of her. ‘I was just going to wake you, dearest. I only just woke up myself. I’m afraid I’ve taken a lot of your day.”

“It’s all right, Lizbeth, it was my choice. But I didn’t expect to sleep so long. I need to be at a Labor Party lunch meeting at twelve. I’m running for branch vice president.”

“Where is it?”

“Just a few stations down the line, then walk a few blocks.”

“Can I drive you down?”

Cilla brightened up. “Yes, if you don’t mind. Then I’ve more time to tidy myself up.”

Elizabeth savoured the memory of the lovely untidiness of Cilla last night and this morning. “Can I come to the meeting with you?”

Cilla smiled at her. “Are you interested in politics?”

Elizabeth laughed. “Only in the sense that if you were going to spend the day shovelling shit I would want to do it too, just to be with you.”

“That’s not so funny, Lizbeth,” Cilla said seriously, causing Elizabeth a flutter of anxiety that was relieved as she went on. “Politics is like that much of the time.”

They hurried to get ready. Elizabeth ran down to her car to get some things she had thoughtfully brought with her against the possibility of an overnight stay at Cilla’s. They showered and dressed and were on their way in time to get there by twelve.

Elizabeth was admitted to the party meeting as a visitor. They seemed pleased to see her, thinking she was a potential new member. It seemed to her that they thought a lot of Cilla, but not in the sense that she was one of a group of friends all fond of one another. Rather, they seemed somewhat in awe of her, engrossed in her.

As the meeting proceeded Cilla got up to speak to a couple of motions. Although when she stood up her head wasn’t far above those of people seated, she seemed to command the room. Her high clear voice reached everyone, she spoke fluently without an ‘er’ or an ‘um’ or a ‘y’know’ and was witty and to the point. When the time came to elect branch office-bearers she was elected to one of the vice-presidential posts without any trouble and to general acclamation.

After the meeting, tea and coffee were served and people walked around meeting each other and having a word here and there. “Why didn’t you go for president?” asked Elizabeth.

“I can’t make the time. President is a time-consuming job. I’ve got to study and work, and go to other meetings sometimes. Vice-president just means you take the chair sometimes. It’s a way of being senior in the branch without having to put too much into it.”

They stayed for a while longer. Cilla wanted to talk briefly to a lot of people and they to her. Elizabeth went around with her and was introduced to a number of people who weren’t all that interested in her and whose names she wouldn’t remember. She was a possible new member but Cilla had greater possibilities.

Elizabeth drove Cilla home. She stopped the car in the car park but didn’t turn the engine off. Cilla appreciated this - after all that had happened, Elizabeth was still not taking anything for granted. But Cilla was getting to know her friend, her lover - the motor was running, Elizabeth had her hands on the controls, but her downcast eyes, her posture and the way she was breathing said clearly, I’ll go if you want, but please ask me up.

Cilla said “I’m so behind with everything, but I know I’ve got to re-order my priorities, and I’m all tensed up about work again tomorrow. Would you like to come up and give me a bit more attention, Lizbeth?”

The motor was turned off, the car locked and five minutes later the two of them were in Cilla’s bedroom, happily obliging each other.

“What a weekend,” Cilla sighed half an hour later as they lay together quietly, satisfied for now. “I wonder if I’ve made the right decision.”

“It’s a decision you can always unmake, my love,” said Elizabeth. “I mean it. I don’t want to close any of life’s paths to you. But we’ll always at least be friends. Won’t we?”

Cilla turned to her and kissed her. “Of course.”

They began to get dressed. “Lizbeth. They’d give us a hard time at work if they knew about us - you know.”

“Yes. We’ll both have to watch how we behave towards each other.”

Cilla had actually meant Elizabeth to be careful, and had felt awkward about raising the subject, but she was glad that Elizabeth had taken it, quite fairly, to mean that both of them would have to be discreet.

At last Elizabeth drove away and Cilla got down to some study.


*** To be continued ***