Simone relaxed into the driving seat and the car slid forward, swerving slightly to correct the bad parking and they set off down the road. Annabelle relaxed back into the passenger seat, extending her right arm into the slipstream, curving her arm as she always had since that very first time when Simone had driven her out here. She loved the feel of being driven by this very serene woman whose curly fair hair was flying back in the breeze as she gently accelerated the car along the coast highway. She had never felt the nervous compulsion to press an invisible brake pedal and that was her gauge of how safe she felt. It was a primary instinctual need in her, accentuated by her family upbringing.
The sun shone its blessings down on them and the little cut glass crystal that hung from the top of the car shield revolved and twinkled its magic on them both. In Annabelle's mind, the lustrous slow spiral of guitar notes slipped unbidden into her mind. The jewel had kept her company when she'd originally spirited the car out of St Theresa's in the impossible hope of somehow reconnecting with Simone. It was very much a friend of theirs.
"I've always loved being driven by you," Annabelle said softly with a radiant smile on her face. It matched the slightly patterned short white dress with the almost demure v neck front which her favourite boots didn't interfere with. Simone smiled radiantly back, loving the feel of the word 'always.' In strict chronological terms, they'd only been living together a week but this represented the flowering of their intimacy of soul that had been budding over the last year."You're so relaxed I feel I could carry on forever."
"This is real," Simone said in her slow soft dreamy voice."Everything before I knew you is unreal. This is the way we were meant to be."
That was it, Annabelle thought with a joyful leap of her heart as the coast played hide and seek behind houses and abundant greenery only to reappear again. This was what made life so magic for them, her living dreams told her as she exchanged a fond smile with her lover who powered their car effortlessly down the road. She looked casually attractive, wearing light brown slacks, green T-shirt and a purple scarf looped casually round her neck. A shadow briefly appeared as they drew close to the turnoff for her parent's house but Simone pressed her foot on the accelerator and, in a flash, they'd passed it by. When they came to more of a closer packed grouping of houses, Simone knew that the left hand turn would take them shortly to the shopping area she was looking for.
"Hey, I can see the shop I want, two hundred yards down on our right and a bookshop at the end of the block the opposite side of the road," exclaimed Annabelle as they cruised into the high street of the straggling town which was a typical part of the State of California. Simone swung the car smoothly into position and reached for her holdall that contained her purse when a thought suddenly struck her.
"So what do we do about money? We've only got one cheque card and two places to go to?" Simone said suddenly. Annabelle was totally flummoxed. Despite her plan, it had somehow not occurred to her to work out the logistics of being other than around her lover. She wasn't sure whether or not she could be given a wad of money and let Simone use the card. At the same time, she figured out that her lover had been a single working woman for a number of years and this was the first time she'd had shared this piece of plastic with anyone. She could see temporary doubts and reservations reflected in her expressive features until she finally made up her mind.
"I tell you what. You take the card, get what you want and work out how much it costs. There's a cash machine right out the shop. I'll give you the card number to get the money out and you can meet me at the bookshop. I know it sounds a mess but it's the best I can do," Simone said with firm conviction. Annabelle looped her arms round her lover's neck and, together with a look of melting gratitude, gave her a chaste kiss on her cheek, seeing that they were out in public.
Simone strolled with pleasurable purpose to the bookshop which was on her radius of operations but which she'd not visited for a while. It was one of the few independent booksellers around and it hadn't been glossed up by marketing executives to be a modern merchandising experience to lure in the casual punter. Everything about was a bit higgledy piggledy so the shoppers who visited it were enthusiasts, both professional and amateur and knew what they wanted. Just for once, she'd concentrate on this simple pleasure without needing to put their world to rights. She felt comfortable strolling around the rambling shop and breathed the studious atmosphere in and out as she disappeared into her individual browsing, turning inward bubble. Slowly,she drifted amongst all the collected works of literature that lined the slightly battered pine shelves. The shop owner had very kindly positioned a couple of comfortable seats for his clients to take a book down from the shelves and read a little of a book in order to make the decision whether or not to buy. She drifted around the shop and noticed a back corner of a shop she'd never been before. It was a section she she'd never noticed before, entitled 'Gay and Lesbian Literature.' For a short period of time, Simone was flustered and confused and a million thoughts rushed through her mind. There she was, having slipped back into her comfortable bookshop browsing habits feeling that, underneath the tumultuous changes of the last year, she was still the same Simone Bradley that she'd ever been. Suddenly, she was presented with a tangible symbol of the way her life had changed and conflicting impulses chose her as their battleground to fight it out. She could consider that she should make a literary choice that transcended categorisations. She could look at the books in the section and move on to the tried and familiar author categorisations, being discreet or coy depending on one's point of view. On the other hand, she should consider that her reading habits should embrace the lifestyle that she had adopted and, what the hell, she should get on out there and join the revolution.
A slim yellow paperback with delicate swirly lines on it entitled 'Great Love Poems' caught her eye and having abstracted it from the row of books, she sat down on a chair to leaf through the poems with as much nonchalance as she could summon up. To hell with it, her mind reached out towards a snippet of information that back in the early nineteen sixties, a failed attempt to prosecute the publishers of D H Lawrence 'Lady Chatterley's Lover' under the obscene publications act. What now went for the straight world, she logically reasoned, should apply for the lesbian world. One clinching argument she deployed against the lingering ghost of the Mother Immaculata was that Annabelle would very likely like her choice of books. There were good reasons for this important argument and it squared the circle crossed one slim leg over the other, curled a lock of curly blonde hair past her ear and dug in.
Once she'd made her decision to buy the book, she got bolder and secured what she'd heard of as a lesbian classic and noticed a magazine called 'Diva' was left on the side and the front page immediately caught her eye. A glamorous brunette with boyishly cropped hair and soulful brown eyes next to a smaller woman with a gloriously cheeky grin, sparkling green eyes and bangs were framed by the front title 'Fighting The System.' She knew straightaway. She had to have it.
"I'll buy these including the magazine," Simone said breathlessly to the studious man behind the desk who smiled kindly on him. This shop attracted helpful assistants who actually knew their wares and weren't mere pay machine operators.
"That was left here. It's an English publication we don't normally get. You can have this for free."
"Oh, thank you," Simone said, overcome with pleasure. She moved off a little way and started to browse a little through her purchases before phoning Annabelle to say she'd finished.
By contrast, Annabelle was eager to be on her mission as she zoomed round the large multi-purpose store. She grabbed a mesh bag from the rack at the front and, as she searched for her first destination, observed with satisfaction that it seemed designed to contain everything she needed. First on her list was a selection of scented candles to give their house atmosphere. In a feverish haze of indecision, she studied the labels which would create the most languidly pleasurable atmosphere. Her next thought was to consider the sort of sexy lingerie that would suit her and her lover. Her boots clattered along the tiled flooring but what the hell. She had to get there and fast. Finally, she came to where she wanted to be. A wide smile spread across her face as she saw the positive treasure trove before her eyes and she started to let her artistic imagination take flight as she conceived of how ravishing both she and her lover could appear to each other but at the same time, she knew she dared not spend too much. She knew by now her relationship with Simone was for the long haul and she didn't want to indulge in a mad spending spree and impoverish them for the next month. She carefully considered the options, including the price tags, meaning also to be good where money was concerned and not to be madly, recklessly extravagant. She weighed the options in a perfect fever of excitement and, as she finally came to her conclusion, checked the time and was totally surprised how time has passed. There was one final item on the list and that was a bottle of champagne that she'd eyed up in the drinks department. She scooped in the bottle that she fancied, ran a mental of mental arithmetic through her mind and hurried to the checkout. To begin with, she only glanced at the girl behind the checkout and then did a double take .
"Martha," she exclaimed , instantly placing her as the not very imaginative girl who had sat at the front of her class whose dogged determination to succeed wasn't matched with an overabundance of talent. She was just some girl she'd gone to school with whose answers to Simone's questions on poetical insight she'd effortlessly outshone without trying."Hey, what are you doing here?"
"Doing a holiday job,"the other girl said resentfully, balancing her need to conform to the dictates of proper customer service and a very obvious resentment."My folks think that in order to get somewhere in the world, to get the dream holiday I want, I have to work for it."
"Going to graduation?" Annabelle asked diplomatically, trying to smile.
"I don't suppose you are," Martha answered very pointedly."No matter how brilliant you think you are, you'll cause an absolute scandal, especially if you turn up on Miss Bradley's arm. It will look so bad."
This girl sounded middle aged in the wrong kind of way, Annabelle thought
She'd been indoctrinated in the 'do's and don'ts' of this world and had accepted them unquestioningly. She was sure to marry and have two point four children and they'd turn out exactly the same as her. The lurking suspicion that they would run head on into social disgrace was quickly snuffed out in Annabelle's mind and she opted for an enigmatic non answer rather than flare up in anger. She also needed a degree of checkout cooperation.
"Yeah well, not everyone sees the world the same way you do. I was always the rebel kind. Anyway, back to my shopping, can you hold these items on the side while I go get some cash just round the corner. There's no one behind me."
The girl opened her mouth to object but Annabelle had whizzed out of the shop. True to her word, she popped back later, a wad of dollar bills in her hand. Fortunately, all was well with processing Simone's check card. She felt a little like a furtive burglar while she conducted this clandestine operation but, sure enough, the mechanical slot disgorged the notes together with the transaction slip and she waited patiently behind the two customers for her turn to come up.
"So why don't you pay switch?" Martha challenged suspiciously, staring through her glasses.
"It's all honest dollars, Martha. Don't be such an asshole and serve me,"cut back Annabelle forcibly.
Glaring back at her but not daring to bring the unwelcome attention of her supervisor down on her, Martha sulkily put the goods through the machine, looking suspiciously at the two sets of lingerie but not daring to comment. Annabelle looked on, smiling sweetly, hardly being able to wait to be reunited with her beloved and knowing that Martha, being chained to the checkout would never be able to find out right now how life had moved on. As for the graduation, well that's another day.
As she clattered excitedly out of the shop, a beam of delight spread across her face as she imagined how Simone would react. She trained her eyesight on the bookshop and, as she got closer, her smile faded and she started to get angry. There, outside the shop was Simone and she was obviously being given a load of shit by a straight couple. Quickening her pace, she clattered across the street to catch up with the action.
Back at the bookstore, Simone had run up against more unwelcome company. As she had stood, leafing through the romantic lesbian novel she had just bought which was suitably illustrated on the front page, she looked up and Lauren materialised out of nowhere.
"Oh help," she murmured under her breath, suddenly panicking and wondering dazedly, where was Annabelle? She and Michael used to go out with Barry and Lauren as a foursome and she could remember them vividly 'renewing their vows.'
"Simone," Lauren declaimed in a very accusatory tone of voice as Barry materialised in the background. Both of them were teachers at St Paul's Catholic High School along with Michael, her ex. A flash of inspiration told her that Lauren sounded just like the Mother Immaculata, only younger and prettier. That thought did the trick in aligning her thoughts right. In that millisecond, she recalled the moment she and Annabelle had been 'outed', she having just zipped up her jeans and holding her red top to cover her chest that her red bra didn't and Annabelle looking half-dressed in her slip. At that moment, she had felt incredibly uncomfortable as she had felt her job and her security collapsing around her. This was different and she wasn't going to take any shit from this woman. "I can't tell you how desperately unhappy Michael feels being betrayed while you go after one of your very own students. I can't believe how professionally irresponsible you've been."
"I love Annabelle Tillman," Simone said with determination, her face severe."Of course I don't feel comfortable the way it happened but I feel very comfortable around Annabelle in every way possible. You'd better believe me. Let's take this argument outside "
As Simone made a determined move for the exit without any shred of wanting to run away in panic, Barry and Lauren were forced to run after her.
"You want an argument in the street," Lauren said incredulously.
"It's as good a place as anywhere," Simone said coolly. Behind her façade, she was wondering if this woman was real. Mind you, she remembered how she simpered all over Barry so she guessed it was part of the same deal.
"We remember the two of you looking good together when we were at that restaurant when we told you we'd renewed our vows."
"Yeah, I was watching those two lesbians at the table next to us. That was the most memorable part of the evening," Simone answered with perfect aplomb. She really couldn't care less who heard her life story right now. She could remember the sense of physical closeness between the two women and feeling as if she was crawling out of her skin as she was stuck being part of this foursome.
"This Annabelle Tillman's only a schoolgirl and, by all accounts a trouble maker, poor little rich kid so I supposed being over-sexed is part of the deal," scoffed Barry in loud overbearing tones that inflamed Simone's anger.
It was at this point that Annabelle's clattering feet took her to within earshot of the group and she got into action without any polite preliminaries
"What the fuck are you saying about me, asshole?"she shouted in angry tones, her long hair flying back in the wind.
Lauren coloured with embarrassment while Barry reddened with anger and was about to let fly when Simone got there first.
"For your information Annabelle, I used to go round as part of a foursome with Michael ,my ex who you saw at the party and these two. They teach at St Paul's but, take it from me, they have a lot of learning to do about life and, yes you've got them right," Simone intervened in her most serene tones which quietly took over the proceedings without appearing to try. Even in her wound up state, Annabelle couldn't help noticing that little trick of her friend, accomplice and lover and it started to stabilise her. She looked at her lover's carrier bag and saw that she'd struck lucky.
"So how did you get on at the bookshop, Simone? You won't guess what I've got in store for out romantic evening. You'll just love it,"Annabelle said, deliberately cutting out these two morons. Simone had as good as said it that these two were history.
"I can't wait to see it. I picked up this poetry book, this great lesbian novel," Simone said with a defiant edge to her voice,"and this free British magazine someone left in the shop."
"Let's get back to the car. I feel like driving us home," Annabelle said eagerly, a wide smile spreading across her face.
"We don't have much in common anymore," Lauren interjected stiffly much to Simone's vague surprise that these two strangers were still here. "I guess we'll go. Goodbye, Simone, I won't promise to meet up again," she added in tight-lipped anger, dragging Barry after him.
Suddenly, their convertible came into view from out of nowhere. It was only where the two women had left it. Simone handed the car keys over to the very excited woman whose arm had been linked in hers and who took the wheel with utter confidence.