2. Cilla - second part - A week of Crisis

A WEEK OF CRISIS

Monday morning was cold and clear as Cilla went through her familiar morning routine and dash to the train. She didn’t enjoy the winter morning twilight as much as she normally would have because she was tired. She had worked until late catching up with her study program and hadn’t got to sleep easily after going to bed. In just one weekend her tidy, well-mapped life had been thoroughly disturbed.

The familiar men who looked at her on the train and the one who followed her up the escalator to enjoy a brief view of her legs made her feel different this morning. They couldn’t know how this little body, that they admired and strained for brief glimpses of, had been so explored and enjoyed this weekend, and not even by one of their sex. She felt sorry for the old man behind her. She slowed her climb up the escalator and even contrived to offer him more than usual by finding an itch on the back of her thigh, lifting her skirt a little to scratch it. Then she felt embarrassed. This was no way for her to behave. She resumed her usual run for the bus.

She felt tense and unhappy as she entered the office. Work wasn’t enjoyable any more. There were few people about as yet but more would come, and no doubt more unpleasantness lay ahead.

Consistent with the feeling that had caused her to tease the old man on the escalator, Cilla thought that perhaps she could be less stand-offish with the male majority in this office. She just felt differently about such things this morning. She could respond better to teasing, even flirt a little. The events of the weekend had made her aware that with all her energy and ability, she was lacking in the area of human relationships. Her position in the office would be better if she had been more normal. If she wanted a political career, human relations would be important. This difficult situation in the office was a good place to start work on this.

Nothing went wrong with her work as the day went on and she felt more relaxed. She made an effort to greet and talk to the men as they came in or as she had contact with them, but they looked at her strangely and didn’t respond well. It wasn’t just that they were suspicious of the change in her manner - there seemed to be something else. But she determined to persevere.

Elizabeth was most circumspect, serious and correct in her behaviour towards Cilla, though she still made more opportunities than necessary to come over and talk. She didn’t ask for a lunch date, for which Cilla was grateful because she wanted to find an empty office and have a short sleep at lunchtime. Neither of them made a move to make a date for the evening either. As the time drew near for Cilla to leave she felt the need to talk directly to Elizabeth about this.

She made sure no-one was near Elizabeth’s cubicle before she went in.

“Lizbeth,” she said softly, leaning over Elizabeth’s desk and seeming to look intently at the computer screen, “were you expecting to get together with me every night?”

“No! Of course not, Cilla. I’d like to see you at weekends when you haven’t got too much going on, or I’d like to have one regular night a week, even if it wasn’t a weekend, plus extra get-togethers when possible. But no, I said I wouldn’t cramp you.”

Cilla stared at the screen for a while longer, framing her response. “I’ll always want to see you at weekends, Lizbeth. I never fill all the weekend up with serious things, there’s always time for leisure, and I’ll want to share that with you. If you’re free, of course.”

“I’ll always be free for you, dear Cilla.”

Neither of them had raised their voices but Cilla peeped nervously round the door of the partition after this last remark. She bent closer and spoke more softly.

“But you don’t have to be. If you did have something to do which took all weekend, I’d fit in. We’d make another night.”

There was a pause. Neither of them spoke or moved. The bustle of the office went on but no-one approached the cubicle.

Cilla sighed and spoke again, softly. “I suppose my trouble is not just conflict between what I want to do with my time, and your desire to be with me. The conflict’s with my desire to be with you.”

Elizabeth looked up, her eyes shining. Cilla straightened up, afraid of some indiscretion. But Elizabeth beckoned her closer again.

“Cilla, why don’t I just come around for a while, then leave? Or stay around but not interrupt you? Even do something for you to save you time, then leave?”

It occurred to Cilla now that it would make more sense if they lived together. But not yet. She’d try this idea for tonight, anyway. It was not so easy to give up her solitary life.

“All right,” she said. Elizabeth sighed and trembled with delight, and told Cilla “I’ll do the man-watch this evening as usual, then pick up the car and come on to your place. If you want to spend the rest of the evening alone, that’s cool. You don’t have to feed me. We’ll both be happy. I like my own place too.” Actually she wanted her place and Cilla’s to be the same place, but didn’t want to suggest this here and now. She went on “Now get away from me - my desire to grab hold of you right now is so strong -”

Cilla retreated quickly, smiling. “See you later, Lizbeth.” She went out of the cubicle, satisfied herself that no-one had been listening to the conversation, went back to her own cubicle and finished off her work. In half an hour she was on the train home.

Two big schoolboys sitting opposite her were much taken with her. She crossed her legs, showing some thigh. If only they knew how this person they admire and desire is going to be naked, being caressed and kissed a short time from now. Cilla tingled with excitement. She was attracting attention from others now - not just by her looks, but by her obvious state of arousal. She uncrossed her legs and made an effort to concentrate on her book and not think of her lover. Why had her experience with Elizabeth turned her into a tease? Did she really resent men? Had a latent need to hurt them surfaced? She should behave with proper decorum in public. Would this ever settle down? Would her sexual relations with Elizabeth become part of the routine, even dull? Cilla couldn’t imagine it. Was heaven just a place like any other?

When she got home she showered quickly and put on a fleecy nightie. Warm for now but easy to take off. Then she changed the sheets on the bed. She forced herself to do a bit of study while waiting for Elizabeth.

The outside light was on and the door was slightly ajar. Cilla did actually make some progress in her work before she heard a car crunching cautiously into the car park. Obviously not a resident. Cilla peered outside into the winter twilight. Yes! It was Elizabeth’s car. Cilla trembled and felt weak in the legs. In five minutes it would be happening.

Elizabeth hurried up the steps and pushed the door slowly open. “Come in,” said Cilla. “Hurry.”

They faced each other with the door open. Their desire for each other was intense. “Shut the door,” said Cilla.

Elizabeth did so. “I ought to be properly dressed, give you a cup of tea and half an hour’s chit-chat. But I can’t wait,” said Cilla. So saying, she clasped Elizabeth closely and began kissing her deeply, almost violently.

After a few minutes she pulled away. “Only three nights ago I was shocked and surprised by all this. Now look at me. What have you done to me, Lizbeth? For God’s sake, get your clothes off and love me.”

Cilla threw off her nightie and went into the bedroom. Elizabeth was as desperate as she. Their lovemaking fulfilled all their expectations. It was even better than before. Cilla nearly did the thing Elizabeth most desired, that she hadn’t yet done, but stopped short. Elizabeth didn’t mind - Cilla pleased her in other ways. But nearly an hour later, as they lay together, tired but happy, Elizabeth asked “Cilla, my love, would it have made a difference if I had had a shower first?”

“What do you mean?”

“I mean, you know, what you nearly did, not that I’m saying I mind if you don’t do it, but you nearly did and I thought you might have managed it had I had a shower first.”

Cilla considered. “I don’t think so, Lizbeth. I didn’t even think of you having a shower. I don’t find you dirty or unpleasant in any way. That didn’t enter my head. No, I’m just not ready for that, yet. I don’t know why. I desire you, I’ve given myself to you. But I’ll make you a promise.”

Elizabeth propped herself up on one elbow, smiling. “What?”

“If we’re still together at Christmas, it’ll happen then. If not before. Christmas is the absolute deadline. No matter what. Okay?”

Elizabeth only looked anxious. “If we’re still together?”

“Well, you never know. I don’t see why we shouldn’t be. I don’t mean that we wouldn’t be. Anyway, you might get sick of me. The weekend might come and you might think, ‘Oh, Lord, I’ve got to go and see that little runt again’.”

Elizabeth laughed. “If you knew how I felt about you, you wouldn’t say such things.”

Cilla grew serious. “I really wanted you today. You’ve unlocked something in me. I wonder if, say I’d met a man that I liked, and he might have unlocked it. I might have been with him like this, never thinking of being with another woman.” She kissed Elizabeth. “But now I take such pleasure in the closeness of your body, and what you do to me, that I can’t imagine finding such joy in being with a man.” She snuggled closer and kissed Elizabeth’s breasts. “I’ve really got to get up and get on, but it’s so hard to drag myself away.”

Elizabeth made a move to get up. “You’d better get on, my love. You might get sick of me otherwise, and think ‘Oh, Lord, that moony blonde is coming over again and I’ve got to have some time to work!’”

Cilla laughed now. “Stay with me a bit longer, Lizbeth.” Soon they were making love again.

It was well into the evening when Cilla finally forced herself to get up. “I really have to get it together now,” she said. “It must be past your dinner-time. Do you want me to make us something? I’m not such a good cook as you.” She didn’t really want to bother. Then again, in a way she did. Her head was full of conflict. She wanted this relationship but she wanted to get on with her life. She wanted more hours in the day, more days in the week.

Elizabeth knew what she was thinking. “Let me make you something, Cilla. You just get on with what you want to do and I’ll make dinner.”

This was a good idea. “Oh, thanks, Lizbeth. But make it for yourself too.”

“Are you sure?”

“‘Course. There’s some chicken thawing out that I was going to do something with tonight. There are vegies, sauces -”

“I’ll find everything and leave all tidy. Don’t give it another thought. Work. Enjoy.”

In half an hour Elizabeth had cooked a delicious meal and served it to Cilla at her desk. It was something she could eat with a fork while writing. Elizabeth kissed Cilla’s hair. “Just keep working, darling. I’ll sit over here and eat mine. Then I’ll go home.”

Something occurred to Cilla. “How did the man-watch go tonight?”

“Oh - I’m not sure.”

“What do you mean?”

“I didn’t see anything happen around your cubicle, but there was some talking, some men gathered in a group and talked and laughed, just after you had left. I didn’t like the sound of it. I made some reason to walk past them and they looked at me and quietened down as I passed, then the group broke up.”

Cilla frowned, shrugged. “Well, we’ll see.” She went back to her work. She had been enjoying this evening, she quietly working, Elizabeth content to feed her then sit and let her work. Cilla didn’t want to think about the office.

Elizabeth took her leave about an hour later. She had been quite happy to sit quietly with Cilla working. Cilla had to resist the temptation to ask her to stay - had to fight her own desire for Elizabeth. No point in pushing this to a level that could not be sustained.

Cilla went to bed late, having almost caught up with her work. She could still smell Elizabeth on the sheets. She fell asleep quickly, contented.

Back in her own flat, alone in her bed, Elizabeth sobbed herself to sleep. She desperately wanted to be with Cilla every second, never separated. In a way she suffered worse now that she had actually got what she had wanted and had started a relationship with Cilla. Was it better to have no relationship than to have one that did not go far enough?

Cilla took care to behave herself on the journey to work the next morning. She ignored the old man who was a bit too interested in her today, perhaps thinking he had a chance. A chance of what? Surely he just wanted to look at her, not start anything. She felt uncomfortable at the memory of how she had teased him the previous morning. She hung back and let him go up the escalator first, even though this delayed her.

In the office she got down to her work. Nothing went wrong. She tried again to be more sociable, more approachable, but still didn’t get a good response. I’ll just have to keep at it, she thought.

Elizabeth came in a bit earlier than her usual time, looking tired, but happy to see Cilla, whom she visited on her way over to her own cubicle.

“You look tired, Lizbeth,” said Cilla. “Did you sleep okay?”

“Oh - I went to bed early enough, but I didn’t drop off. I was thinking about us.”

Elizabeth hadn’t meant to say such a thing, let alone in a normal voice. “Shh!” hissed Cilla harshly, alarmed.

She repented when she saw how hurt, almost angry, Elizabeth looked. She pulled her into the cubicle and made her sit down. Leaning close to Elizabeth, she whispered more gently, “I’m sorry, Lizbeth, I didn’t mean to be rude. But we don’t want to give any of these bozos a sniff of an idea that there’s any such thing as ‘us’. We discussed this. It’s only Tuesday. How are we going to go on?”

Elizabeth was shaking. “I’m sorry, Cilla,” she said huskily. “It just slipped out. I just wasn’t with it.”

Cilla stood on tiptoe and peeped over the top of the cubicle. No-one was close, or looking their way. “No harm done, I think. But you must have been having heavy thoughts about, us, to be so tired and distracted this morning. I think I know how those thoughts ran. I’m not stupid, and I care about you. Let me ring you tonight and talk about it.”

No invitation for cuddles after work today. “All right,” muttered Elizabeth. She felt drained, sat hunched and listless. For the first time in a long while she felt like she had in the bad times after she had left school. Cilla was concerned. She wondered how to make Elizabeth go and get on with her work without seeming bossy.

The situation was saved by Barry coming in and saying, “Liz! There you are. Any chance of having that submission done by ten?”

Elizabeth looked at him, didn’t reply, couldn’t immediately make sense of what he had said.

“What’s the matter with you this morning?” asked Barry, though his tone was not unkind.

“She’s a bit off colour, Barry,” said Cilla.

“Should you go home?” Barry said to Elizabeth.

At last Elizabeth collected herself. She got up slowly. “No - no, I can work. The submission only wants checking and printing. I just came in to ask Cilla about - a technical thing.”

“Oh? What? Could she help you?”

“Yes, it’s all right now. Thanks, Cilla.” Elizabeth hurried over to her cubicle and the crisis was past. But Cilla wanted to have lunch with her and talk to her. She would have to go over and see her later.

The morning was busy and uneventful. Towards noon, Cilla went over to Elizabeth’s cubicle when no-one was near it. She went in. “Can we have lunch together, Lizbeth? Or are you still cross with me?”

“I wasn’t ever cross with you, dear.” Elizabeth seemed listless.

“I thought I saw anger in your face earlier, when I said, shh. I was only anxious, not trying to put you down.”

“Well - I was angry with myself. I thought I had left the bad old days behind, but I wasn’t on top of things this morning.”

Cilla thought about these ‘bad old days’. She remembered what Elizabeth had told her about having to leave school and having some difficult times. Was this new relationship dragging her down?

“Should we never have started?” asked Cilla.

Now Elizabeth looked at her, seriously. “No - but - “

“But, what?”

Elizabeth frowned. “Let’s meet for lunch. I’ll talk about it then.”

Cilla wondered what the problem was. She knew that relationships could be complicated. For the first time since she had allowed this to begin, she felt a slight panic, a catch in her breath. She was out of her depth here. But she must try to cope.

“Where shall we meet?” she asked. “We could go up to the tenth floor.”

Elizabeth knew that the tenth floor was totally vacant, waiting for a new tenant after the previous one had gone bankrupt. “Can we get up there?” she asked.

“Yes. We can find a room where we can talk without being heard, or bothered. I’ll have lunch at my desk, then we can spend all our break talking.”

Elizabeth smiled. “All right. See you at twelve?”

“Just before, so that there won’t be too many people using the lifts.”

At five to twelve the two young women went to the lift lobby, but went up instead of down. The lunch-time rush hadn’t started and they didn’t attract notice.

The tenth floor was quite deserted. Work was supposed to start some time on renovating it but there had been a problem with the tendering process. No-one else seemed to have thought of it as a place to sneak away to.

They found a spacious office with a large scratched desk, a thick carpet and a lounge suite. Other office furniture and equipment had been taken away but no-one had seemed to want these things.

“Now,” said Cilla, sitting on the couch beside Elizabeth, “tell me your thoughts.”

Elizabeth had had time to think what to say. In fact she had brooded over it while mechanically formatting documents and sending them to the printer.

“The ‘but’ was,” she began, “that I really want to be with you all the time. It really hit me last night, after I got home. I was trying to be, what I thought, what I know, you want, but last night I didn’t know if I could go on, like that. Coming and going, mostly being with you only at work, where I can’t really, you know, be, with you. Before we started, er, having a relationship, it was bearable because I could just love you in secret, not expecting anything to come of it. But now, Cilla, I love you so much. I want to be part of you. I want to be you. I don’t know how to express it. I -” Elizabeth couldn’t go on. She wept.

Cilla just let her weep, not saying anything, just stroking her long blonde hair and looking at her, expecting her to say more. Elizabeth was encouraged by this and relieved at not being rejected and scorned for the way she had expressed her feelings. She went on to the thing that had to be said.

“Cilla, couldn’t we live together?”

Cilla had been thinking the same thing, but it raised a number of questions. Now was the time to discuss them.

“I was wondering about that, Lizbeth, but I don’t want to rush into it. Who would live in whose house? Or should we get a new place? Where? And I’ve got a busy life, and I’m used to being on my own. If we lived together it would really be a commitment. If it didn’t work out it could be - difficult.”

Elizabeth had expected this sort of reply, but at least Cilla had been thinking about the subject. “Why were you wondering about us living together?” she asked.

“Well, it was nice the other night. It would make more sense for us to live together. But then I thought it through. And then - ” Cilla stopped, but Elizabeth caught on to those two words. “Then, what?”

Cilla hadn’t wanted to talk about Elizabeth’s emotional state, rather just talk her out of it. She didn’t reply. But Elizabeth persisted.

“Then, what, Cilla?”

“Well, there was this morning.”

“What about it?”

“I - you seemed to have changed from the calm and happy person of the day before. I didn’t know - I’m not used to - “ Cilla was stuck.

Elizabeth sat up and moved slightly away from Cilla. She wasn’t really hurt or angry, but this needed talking about.

After a pause she said “I can’t just promise that it would be different if we lived together, or that it won’t happen again. It probably will happen again, whether or not we lived together. I know it’s wrong, and I try to control it, succeed most of the time, but sometimes I just get emotional and forget myself. Remember, Cilla, I had a breakdown for a year after leaving school, and was in hospital for a while. The psychiatric ward. All right, I’ve been out of it for years and I’m not going back, but the doctor said I’ll always be a bit fragile.” She didn’t go on.

The two of them sat in silence for a minute. Cilla drew Elizabeth back to her, and Elizabeth didn’t resist.

Cilla spoke. “I suppose that since I decided to let our relationship happen I was taking responsibility for you. I wasn’t responsible for you before, but once I found out you loved me and decided to accept your love, I accepted responsibility. I’m here for you, Lizbeth, fragile or not. I’ll stick to you. But I’ve had no close loving relationships in my life so I find it a bit scary.”

Elizabeth sounded like she was going to cry again. Her voice trembled as she spoke. “Here’s me, longing to be with you every minute of my life, and you describe your feelings in terms like ‘responsibility’ and ‘scary’. That’s the problem, Cilla. You just don’t feel the same way about me as I do about you. I’m not saying you should, but you don’t. If the love was mutual we’d find a way to live together and the problems with that wouldn’t seem important. Oh well.” Elizabeth got up, walked away, blew her nose.

Cilla didn’t know what to say. Everything had been going so well just yesterday evening. Now all this had blown up. It was true. She wanted Elizabeth and her love-making, but not all the time. She wanted Elizabeth as a support and pleasure to enhance her life, not to be her life. But of course she could not expect Elizabeth to be happy with that, though she had seemed to be.

Cilla wished it were last Tuesday so that she could do the week again. She should have caught the train last Saturday night. That had been the turning point.

Elizabeth turned around and almost echoed Cilla’s thought. “I wish it was this morning again. I didn’t mean all this to gush out, all these things to be said. I was just a bit down this morning, not thinking straight. Can we just forget it? Let’s say it never happened. Let’s start again. I promise, promise, I won’t say things out of place, I’ll be careful in the office.”

Cilla held out her arms. Elizabeth went back and sat down with her. They kissed deeply for a minute.

“Of course we can rewind the tape, Lizbeth dear. I’m glad these things have been said, if they were in your mind. If I can ever feel love like you feel, maybe I will one day feel it for you. Just give me time. You’ve had problems in your past that you can’t help, I’ve had mine. Made us what we are. You’re loving and fragile, I’m cold and self-sufficient. But I’ll try to give myself, become more human. If you feel bad about what you’ve said today, I feel bad about myself, the way I’ve behaved. I feel sorry for you, not in a patronising way but because you love me. I’ll do my best to deserve you.”

Neither of them could think of anything more to say, and didn’t want to speak any more. Their talk had achieved its purpose - they were comfortable with each other again. They kissed for a long time. Cilla felt that she did care for Elizabeth a lot. Maybe they could live together. Maybe they could try staying at each others’ houses for a day or two at a time, then longer. But Cilla didn’t want to be away from her house for long periods - it had all her things and was close to the train and to her party branch. She wanted to put off the expense of a car as long as possible.

Anyway she didn’t want to think any more of that now. She really wanted to make love. Now. She wondered how long they had been up here already, and whether they could get away with something so outrageous.

Elizabeth asked “What are you thinking, darling?”

“The same as you, probably.”

They parted and sat side by side, not looking at each other, on the brink. Neither one moved for a minute. Then Cilla spoke, softly.

“Thinking it through, in my usual endearing way, Lizbeth, I think it might turn out to be something we’d regret. We’d give in to the impulse of the moment, then what?”

Elizabeth sighed. “I suppose you’re right. We’d better sneak back.” She wanted to ask, what about tonight? But decided to wait to see if Cilla suggested it.

“I’ve got to go out tonight,” Cilla said, anticipating Elizabeth’s thought. “There’s a big council meeting, local controversies. I want to be there and put in a few thoughts of my own. Part of my career plan.”

Of course. Elizabeth was anxious to be supportive. “Do you think you might run for the council, some time? A lot of people have used local government as a stepping-stone to higher office.”

Cilla went to the door and peeped out. No-one was about. “Let’s get to the elevator while we can, Lizbeth.”

On their way down she answered Elizabeth’s question. “I want to get my studies over before I do anything like that. There’s a lot of time involved if you want to be a successful councillor. Then, if I get the promotions I want at work, I’ll be putting in more hours. But you’re right. Tonight will help pave the way to it.”

Elizabeth noted ‘will’ not ‘might’. She felt a surge of enthusiasm for Cilla’s planned life, and at the same time was more ashamed of her own behaviour today. This lovely young woman was destined for great things and Elizabeth wanted to be with her and help and support her, not throw her off the track.

The rest of the day passed busily. When it was her time to go home, Cilla went to Elizabeth’s cubicle to say ‘see you’ and ask “Are you all right now?” Elizabeth smiled and said yes. “I’ll stay for a bit longer and see if anyone gets up to anything.”

“Thanks, Lizbeth.” Cilla leant closer to speak softly. “I really appreciate you. I - “ she wanted to say more, to make Elizabeth feel good, to reassure her that the events of this morning were no problem, but Barry came in.

“You two plotting again?” he said, teasingly.

Cilla fortunately found something on Elizabeth’s screen to point to. “There’s a missing word, there. You want to move the picture slightly. Hello, Barry. I’m just running a fresh pair of eyes over Elizabeth’s document.”

Barry looked at the two of them, a pretty sight. He wondered if they had known each other at school or something. They seemed like sisters or long-standing friends. He said “I just came to see if Liz felt better. The submission went well this morning.”

“Yes, thanks, Barry,” said Elizabeth. I got through the day.”

“Take tomorrow off if you need to.”

“Thanks, but I won’t. Need to.”

“Good.”

“Well, I’ll be off,” said Cilla brightly. “Goodnight, Barry. Goodnight, Liz.”

She left them and hurried away, her mind already full of tonight’s meeting. She had no idea of the battle that was about to pre-occupy her own immediate future.

Rain fell again during the night and by the time morning came the strong, gusty wind had backed southerly and become very cold. Cilla felt as though she were being tossed about like a little leaf as she hurried down to the train station in the darkness.

The old man who liked her legs wasn’t on the train today. Was he in bed with a cold? Retired? On holidays? Dead? Cilla wasn’t showing much leg today anyway.

Rather wet and cold she reached the office and was grateful for the tranquil warmth inside the building. She went into her cubicle, her mind active with what she wanted to start on this morning. A plain white envelope was tucked under her keyboard. It was a note from Elizabeth.

“Two men went in here for a few minutes, about 5:30. They were whispering and laughing. I don’t know what they did. Check everything carefully. I went in but couldn’t find anything wrong. See you tomorrow. Love, Lizbeth.”

Cilla dropped the note and looked around. Everything seemed to be as she had left it. She had left things a certain way and noted how they were.

She turned on the computer and entered the password. No trouble. She started the Word program, then went over and turned on the printer.

Back in her cubicle she decided to start with a few letters and see what happened. Eager to begin, she got some papers together and sat down at the computer. Her chair squelched and a sickening smell filled the cubicle.

She got up slowly, to find her dress and the floor stained with something brown and disgusting. So, this was what they had been up to.

After standing a moment, shaking with shock and distress, she pulled herself together and moved quickly. All trace of this must be removed and she must be seen to be working normally before anyone else arrived.

She was hurrying towards the washroom when she stopped again. No- wait - wait, she thought to herself. Her strongest feelings were to clear all this up as soon as possible, to escape the shame and humiliation it was meant to cause. But her reason, often stronger than her emotions, worked through it. This was assault. It must have as many witnesses as possible. She must suffer her state and the state of her workstation, to make sure as many as possible of her workmates saw this. She must go and seek out people, let them see and smell her, then bring them over to her cubicle and let them see and smell that too.

This was the right thing to do, the right way to fight this. It was the hard way, as the right way often is. And of course it was the way that whoever had done it wouldn’t expect her to follow.

She carried this plan through the next two hours, until everyone was at work who was coming. She suffered the looks on people’s faces, the disgust and contempt, the whispers and giggles. But she was elated by the anger on the faces of some of the men, who had expected her to clean it up as quickly as possible, or else simply to leave it and run away, go home, resign, take stress leave. But here she was, calmly displaying it for everyone to see.

It was particularly tense for Cilla when Elizabeth came in at about nine. Cilla was afraid her friend would lose it. But Elizabeth saw the look on Cilla’s face and controlled herself. Now of all times she needed to be strong for Cilla, a support, not an extra burden. She walked into Cilla’s cubicle.

“So this is what they were up to,” she whispered.

“Mm.”

“Don’t worry, darling, I won’t say anything to let them know I was spying for you. But I could identify the two men, if need be.”

Cilla smiled, for the first time that day. “I suppose they would assume you wouldn’t dob them in. Or didn’t they know you were there?”

“They came from the other side. I was just working quietly and listening.”

Two more latecomers came to look. “Catch you later, Lizbeth,” whispered Cilla. Elizabeth went back to her own cubicle. She was distraught and allowed herself to weep a little while her computer booted up. Then she made the effort to compose herself and get on with her work.

Barry finally came into Cilla’s cubicle, looking cross. “What is this, Cilla? The whole office stinks!”

“Someone put filth in my seat, Barry. It got on me and the floor when I sat down this morning.”

Barry was lost for words.

Cilla went on. “I need someone to come and replace my chair and clean my office while I go and clean myself. I can’t work in this.”

“Can’t you just wheel the chair away somewhere? And get a mop? Why didn’t you do that straight away?”

Cilla didn’t play her ‘witnesses to assault’ card. She did wonder if she had done the right thing after all. But she was committed now to a certain line of action. She replied “I didn’t make the mess, Barry. I don’t have to clean it up.”

“Well, the regular cleaners won’t touch it. This just doesn’t happen!”

“Well, it has happened.”

Barry suppressed several possible retorts to this annoyingly calm young woman in her dirty dress and smelly office. He knew that he had to get this cleared up as quickly and quietly as possible. He would have to get a contract cleaner in. The cost would be taken out of his department’s budget. Questions would be asked. He would have to try to find the culprit or culprits. They would have to pay, but the incident would be remembered when he tried to get promotion.

Barry couldn’t believe that this sort of thing was happening in a modern government office, in Western Australia. It was like something out of a lurid school story-book from the old days. Ripping yarns and jolly japes.

Then there might be further incidents as long as Cilla was here. She must have upset someone. Whatever the rights and wrongs of it, if she were out of the office, there would be no more incidents.

He finally said “All right, Cilla, I’ll get someone in to clean up. Have you got any spare clothes?”

“No.”

“Well - “ Barry would have suggested a few women in the office who always had spare clothes, but Cilla was easily the smallest woman there. He didn’t know what to suggest. Cilla helped him out. “If I can have a bit of time off, I won’t be able to work in here until it’s clean anyway, I can put on a coat and do my clothes at the laundromat on the next corner.”

That was acceptable. By one o’clock Cilla was in clean clothes again and working feverishly in her cubicle which now smelt strongly of pine and chlorine. Her hands shook. She struggled against mistakes. The morning’s events had upset her badly, though she had managed to keep calm through them; also, she was distressed by the certainty that this would affect her career. Now she was driven to catch up with her day’s work.

Barry was on the telephone, trying to arrange a transfer for her. Level 4, clever, hardworking, gets things right (he would miss those attributes), could be an asset to any department. Why do you want her transferred then? he was of course asked. He had thought of that. Because his department was rumoured to be cutting back and contracting out services and he wanted to make sure that talented people got the career path they deserved. Ah. Yes. Well, it’s the same everywhere, you know. Still - let me ring you back, Baz.

Some time after four o’clock, as weary Cilla was leaving her cubicle for the day, Barry got the telephone call he had been hoping for. Someone would take her. As he took the call, he saw her dark curly head bowed slightly as she made her way out of the office. A smaller department, some way out of town, but still accessible by train. He knew about Cilla’s use of the train. Mostly women on the staff. Something like where she had come from. It all seemed very satisfactory. He would tell her tomorrow.

It didn’t occur to him that he was doing Cilla an injustice. He wanted her out, plenty of men in the office obviously wanted her out (though the practical jokers would still have to be punished) and surely she wouldn’t want to stay, after all this. It would be good all round.

Cilla passed by Elizabeth’s cubicle on the way out. They looked at each other, both sad and stressed. Cilla wanted Elizabeth to come over tonight, but didn’t want it to seem as though Elizabeth were just a convenience to call on in bad times. Also, Cilla thought it should really be her turn to go over to Elizabeth’s, but she needed to be at home to deal with her mail and do her studies.

Elizabeth looked at Cilla standing there and desperately loved and wanted her, wanted to hold her and comfort her. But Cilla might be busy again tonight, needed to get on with her life no matter what happened at work. So Elizabeth said, “I don’t have any studies or after-work activities like you, Cilla. I can always come over to you, when it’s convenient. We don’t have to take turns, particularly on work days. I can use the car, too.”

Cilla immediately took this up. “Can I see you tonight, Lizbeth?”

“With all my heart, darling.” Discretion was forgotten, but no-one was within earshot and Cilla didn’t want to scold Elizabeth. She felt very warm towards Elizabeth, felt that their relationship was about to grow to a new level of intimacy, that she was about to give herself more completely.

An hour later Cilla was lying on her back on her bed. She hadn’t been able to address the things she needed to do that night. She felt very tired and upset. At last she heard footsteps coming up her stairs.

“Come in, it’s not locked,” she called as the footsteps reached her door.

Elizabeth came in. “Is that safe, leaving your door unlocked?”

“It is in this neighbourhood. But lock it now. Let’s be just us, secluded from the world.”

Elizabeth came into the bedroom. She saw Cilla on the bed and lay down with her, embracing her. There was no needy passion, just tenderness and closeness. Cilla wrapped her arms around Elizabeth. She felt her body relax, the weight of misery and anxiety lift. She made her decision.

“Lizbeth, how are you feeling? I mean, do you feel amorous? Or do you just want to relax and be close?”

“I always want you, my love.”

“If you were a man, you’d be pressing your needs on me.”

“Well, I’m not. That’s just one dimension of my whole feeling for you. But how do you feel? You look as though you just want to flake it.”

“Well - actually, what I really feel just now, is very warm towards you, Lizbeth. In fact, if you’d like to undress, I think I’ve got a Christmas present for you, if you know what I mean.”

Elizabeth took this in for a moment then shuddered with desire and delight as she caught the meaning. “Don’t you want me to shower first?” she whispered.

“No, dear, just undress. Or as much as necessary.”

The next half-hour was the pinnacle of Elizabeth’s life. Never mind the dreadful day just gone, or what the next day would bring, or what the rest of her life would bring. All that mattered was what was happening to her now.

At last she lay back shivering. Cilla pulled the doona over the two of them but Elizabeth was not shivering from cold, rather from intense feeling.

After a while, Cilla pulled her own clothes off and threw them on the floor. “Do you feel like returning the favour?” she murmured.

“Oh, what do you think. Oh, my darling.”

It was full night when Cilla awoke from the close-entwined sleep they enjoyed after their loving. She turned on the bedside light and checked her watch. She sighed. Elizabeth stirred.

“Lizbeth, I’ve got to force myself to my books, though there’s nothing I feel like less. Life has to go on. Do you want to ring for a pizza? Your choice, I’ll pay.”

“Mm. Okay.” Elizabeth didn’t move. Cilla reluctantly left her and put on her fleecy nightie and woollen dressing-gown. She went to her desk and sorted out her work. She needed to do a couple of hours. She would feel better when it was done.

After ten quiet minutes with only the muted hum of traffic, the rustling of papers and the scratching of Cilla’s pen to break the silence, Elizabeth slowly got up.

“I’m sorry, Cilla, I did hear what you said. But I was so totally relaxed.” She stood there shivering.

Cilla smiled. “That’s all right, Lizbeth. I’m glad you felt so good. I’m glad you got up for one reason - I’ve been struggling with the desire to drop this and climb back under the doona with you. Turn on the fan heater if you like. I’ve got a spare dressing gown but it won’t fit you.”

“That’s all right, I’ve got one in the car.” Elizabeth was putting her clothes on.

“Have you indeed? Why would anyone carry a dressing-gown in their car?”

Elizabeth smiled. “Well, just in case, you know.”

“Just in case you ever stayed over at my place, like tonight.”

“Am I staying over?”

“Well - you don’t have to. But I’d like you to, if it’s not a problem. I’m sorry my bed is so small.”

Elizabeth just simpered with pleasure. She ran out to the car to fetch the dressing gown and other things.

The pizza was ordered and came in twenty minutes. They munched at it while Cilla continued working and Elizabeth watched her, marvelling at her concentration and determination.

At last Cilla closed her books and put everything away. She yawned and stretched. “Let’s go back to bed. If you’re ready, Lizbeth.”

“I am.”

As they snuggled close, Cilla put her lips close to Elizabeth’s ear. “I want to say something to you, Lizbeth. It excites me. I want to whisper it. I wonder if it will scare you. Do you know what it is?”

Elizabeth really didn’t know and was shocked with joy when Cilla whispered, slowly and gently, “I love you, Lizbeth.”

They made love again after that, passionately at first then more gently, settling into happy sleep. The bed was more than big enough for the two of them.

To be Continued