This was date number seven, and Janet was proud of herself. Never before had she felt so normal. They'd met by chance at work, but she didn't work in any field related to the law. They had managed to withhold intimacy until date number three, and it wasn't fuelled by any life threatening context. She had explained her complicated past with simplicity; lost her first partner, didn't work out with the second. Years and years of complexity and pain in a controlled single sentence. Normal. She could do it.
As she joined the well turned out crowd, exhausted from a long week, she was revived by the frenetic bustle in the glow of theatre lights. She knew Claire would be late. That had become a pattern. But if you can anticipate it then it's less of a problem, and she adjusted by being a little late herself. Right on time, her phone beeped and the predictable words appeared.
'Sorry babe. Running late. Be there in ten. x'
Janet didn't much like being referred to as babe, and she found the use of the term unattractive. But she figured that in a text it was just about ok. That maybe this compromise in the use of language was something that normal people had to do. And besides, all else was going well. The past four months with her had been easy, had been like walking into a store and finding exactly what you wanted, exactly where you expected it.
On their first meeting she had been in her office, bogged down in the details of a recruitment drive. As the director of the DPP she was on the hunt for two new prosecutors, one of them senior. A bulk order of sparkling water had been purchased for the three long days of interviews. Claire was lost and appeared at her door clutching a pallet of glass green bottles. It was the long, toned arms she noticed first. Janet followed her, and the curve of her tight jeans, all the way to the dining area to show her where they should go. They talked about the water cooler, who supplied it, how often it was used. Clare asked a lot of questions. The final one: would Janet be interested in a drink after office hours? There was something intriguing about her, an air of purpose and curiosity that she liked. The expensively arranged short blonde hair wasn't a feature of her usual type, but she got the sense from her confidence, from the glow of her well cared for skin, that there was a lot more to her than met the eye.
That first date, Janet was taken aback by how much more there was to her and how little she had anticipated. The assumption that Claire was a delivery driver was wrong; she owned the company. It wasn't even her main company. That accolade belonged to the educational software she had developed, that was now used throughout the world by pre schoolers. She had sold the platform in order to fund new ventures, and her latest foray into the refreshments business was going rather well, was 'a lot of fun'. Janet sat listening with a stupefied grin - embarrassed at how presumptuous she had been, amazed at how for some people the world appeared to be one big amusement park. Maybe she needed more of that in her life; a sense of possibility and adventure.
She could certainly get used to the apartment, all three levels of it boasting panoramic views of the city. It made her own place feel like a student den. No crumpled clothing lying in wait around any corner; expensive furniture and art work carefully plotted around each room. She was perfectly accepting of Claire's apparent terms; short dates, the odd overnight at either of their homes, gaps on account of frequent business trips. With long days at work and the constant ferrying of the kids she had little time for anything else. It was light and it was fun and she had no idea where it was going.
Their first night together had been good, but it had been exactly what she expected. Maybe that was also an aspect of normalcy that she had to appreciate; not every girlfriend's touch was going to match the intensity of your bodyguard. If this was the way of ordinary, of the existence that she was determined to want, then she would have to get used to it. She would have to get to know Claire better and do the work. And hope that other aspects of their relationship would grow with it.
As she continued to wait she observed the professionals of the city spend their evening in talk and the anticipation of culture. Janet breathed in the night air and looked around for Claire's inquisitive smile. Something stood out form the polished masses. It was a coat. A beautiful caramel knee length affair, the kind of rich material that screamed expense. The kind of thing a model would wear in a glossy magazine. You'd check the small print for the price and laugh. This woman wore it particularly well, had completed the look with a pristine white shirt and black trousers. At a certain angle, if it hadn't been for the overly coiffured hair, she might have believed it could be Bianca. When an older man embraced and kissed her she knew that it wasn't.
'Hey! Sorry about that. How are you? How's your week been?' Claire kissed her cheek, grabbed her hand, didn't wait for the answer to the questions she'd asked. 'I said we'd pop round for drinks with some mates after this. If that's ok with you. Should just be a fly by visit.'
'Sure. Sounds good.' Janet said. And they made their way quietly into the malaise of a too crowded foyer.
Janet enjoyed the play at first. But after a time, twenty minutes or so, she got it. She knew the message thee tale would ultimately convey. Boy loved girl, girl loved boy, boy didn't value that and would no doubt have to spend the second half having to compensate where upon girl would miraculously forgive him and they would get on with it. In the claustrophobic fullness of the darkened rows she lost interest. Her attention turned to the softly lit faces around her, to the row upon row that made up the single entity experiencing what was playing out before them. It was fun to watch the silent captivation. She took Claire's hand. It was nice, to be linked. Claire quickly turned to her and displayed an easy smile, got back to the story right away. Janet let the overwrought dialogue wash over her, felt herself grow a little restless as the interval approached. That was always the problem with culture for her; her own life, her own narrative, her own work, was always far more interesting. She wanted to get out of the theatre and on with her own story. Claire seemed like the kind of woman who might understand, who found her own circumstance fascinating too.
'I'm just going to the bathroom'. Janet said when the lights came up. She struggled through the legs along the aisle, shuffling and apologising as she went. In the long line she sighed at the prospect of sixty additional minutes of predictable dialogue on the other side of the break. She checked her phone. A picture of the twins happily lounging across her mother's sofa sprang out from the screen. Her turn came around, and as she approached the second row of stalls she felt a hand clamp over her mouth, felt herself forced into one of the confined spaces by a strong body who had come up from behind. She panicked, tried to turn herself round to see the face, but was held tightly in place and pushed against the door to keep it shut. Her body pulsed with fear as she turned and came face to face with her assailant. She found herself looking at a version of Bianca.
In the struggle, she had lost control of her breathing. Her chest continued to heave as she tried to understand. Bianca kept one hand firmly over her lips while she grappled with a phone in the other. She held it up for Janet to read - 'Undercover. Can't talk.'
With wide and alert eyes Janet attempted a nod. She saw it now, that it really was her, behind the dark eye make up and too glamorous aura of the clothes. Bianca gently drew her hand away, but raised a finger to her own lips to insist she stay quiet.
They stood still, staring at each other.
When Bianca eventually smiled, her real smile, Janet lost herself in the pleasure of recognition. She watched Bianca lean towards her, thought for a minute she was about to be kissed, then felt her skin lightly touch hers. Heard her softly whisper, 'How are the kids?'
When she pulled back Janet mouthed the word 'good' and formed a heartfelt smile of her own. She was about to reach out, to touch her face, when Bianca took her hand, held it for a moment and let her eyes fall to the floor. Then she opened the door and was gone.
Janet didn't move. Looked up to the ceiling, communed with it. She couldn't calm her body enough to make the journey back to her seat. An announcement came over the tannoy; three minutes until curtains up. She forced herself out into the dark again, to the small space beside Claire who she found staring at her phone. Janet searched around before sitting, hoping for a second more of the strange but familiar face. She couldn't find it anywhere.
If the first half had been dull, the second half was unintelligible. Janet would not have been able to recount any of the plot. She was sure there was an outline and a climax, but all she heard were Bianca's words, and all she saw was her smile. She hadn't even registered when Claire had taken her hand.
When they emerged onto the street, Janet's request was out before she recognised it for the betrayal it was.
'Do you mind if we skip those drinks? Head straight back to yours? I'd really like that.' It was deliberately seductive, deliberately urgent.
'I would love to Janet, but there's some potential clients I need to meet.'
Janet looked around. She was disappointed not to get her way and wondered if she had made herself clear.
'Sure. No problem.'
They walked on towards the bar.
'It was a revelation I'm telling you. Do it. Audit your day, you'll find at least half an hour that you've not accounted for to utilise.' It might have been Francis who said that. Or maybe it was Jill.
Janet sighed as she listened to yet another friend of Claire's talk unadulterated nonsense. They were ok as a collective, nice but dim; individually they were each too much in love with the sound of their own voice. She was dizzy from the array of topics they covered. It wasn't that she couldn't keep up intellectually, it was the fact that there were so many. They seemed to chew up and spit out complex ideas in a single upbeat sentence. And they were always convinced they were right; their child like attention spans searching out novelty and never a considered opinion. She tried to join in, but when she did speak up she felt like a lone voice in the wind. Jason's refusal to consider the murky depths of reality was particularly annoying. His voice went right through her.
"I mean it's scandalous. A whole generation of kids denied their creativity thanks to our need for draconian rules and uniform behaviour.' He was talking about a recent report into the thousands of kids excluded from school every year. Clearly a problem, clearly a need for nuanced and varied solutions. Jason was a fresh faced property develop who had single handedly wiped out the need for bricks and mortar estate agents by moving the whole process online. Janet couldn't let it go.
'I hardly think asking teenagers to refrain from violence and hateful language is curtailing their creativity.' She took a sip of her wine.
He laughed nervously. They enjoyed an argument, but only in the cosseted echo chamber of their own company, and they still weren't sure if Janet belonged there. Claire seemed happier with her than she had with any of the others, but that didn't mean she was here to stay.
'Come on Janet. You remember school. Sitting in silent rows so you could imbibe someone else's ideas only to regurgitate them later.'
'I do. And I'm grateful for it. Got me where I am today.'
The look on his face said it all; they didn't really hold much stock in where she was today. Janet was a public servant, a slave to the system. It didn't matter how high up she was, as far as they were concerned she was in an outdated game. She was at the bottom of their self appointed league and they let her know it. Maybe it should have irritated her more than it did, but she found herself quite fascinated with the small ways they found to abase her, the rolling of eyes and the whispered judgements. She did the same, had been silently mocking their scruffy dress code of jeans and pastel coloured t shirts since she met them. Like the failure to invest in their own image made them more wholesome somehow.
'All I'm saying is, not everyone learns in the same way. And as a society we just can't deal with that.' Jason said.
They ended arguments in the same weak way too; with a vague supposition that inferred they were ultimately right and you had completely missed the point. She looked around the average bar and smiled at the hypocrisy. The were sitting in a booth marked off as a private area; convinced they were of the people but careful not to actually to be with the people.
'Janet you ready to go?' Claire appeared by her side and linked her arm through hers. She smiled approvingly, glad to be finally free of this skimming attempt at socialising. They talked about Claire's tenuous links with the group as they walked to her apartment.
'I met them in a bunch of ways. Networking events, some online connections. Just the usual. I know some better than others.'
She had more grit about her than her friends. Her parents were no longer living. She was determined to succeed despite her humble beginnings and never stopped looking forward, never stopped learning about how things worked. Janet enjoyed that about her and could see that she didn't take what she had for granted. Life had taught her that you should always, always be curious. Not so much about people, more about how things operated. When Janet had confessed that her own relationship with her father cast a heavy shadow over her life Claire simply responded by saying that we all have a tendency to over state our parent's part in our outlook. It was a neat idea, but Janet disagreed. She found it pleasing though, to have such a clean way of viewing the past in a woman she enjoyed getting to know. She was an attractive and uncomplicated package who didn't force her to talk about things she would rather forget.
'And what about Jason? How do you know him?'
'Ha. We were both on the bill for this motivational conference. I did this talk about how really honing in on the first five minutes of your day and perfecting it can change your life. I was furious because I thought the day was free and they were charging people like $500 a ticket.'
'Jesus.'
'I know right? Made me feel dirty.' They entered the elevator and felt themselves rise up to the apartment. Claire was very much the kind of person who wanted to 'give back' and offset the opportunities she had been given, even though she had created them herself. She was at pains to point this out to Janet and wanted to appeal to her sense of justice at every opportunity.
'Hey. Before the party I have a surprise for you and the kids. Can I come round to yours about midday? Buzzing to see their faces.'
'Sure. Sounds very mysterious.' Janet smiled, pulled her in for a kiss. Tried to switch off and enjoy their time together like any normal couple in the city on any normal night.