Hello again! Back to the world of Naomily then. Slight delay on this chapter, but real life does intrude sometimes. Can I be very cheeky and put in a plug for a charity which does amazing work and has fairly recently become very relevant to me? I can?

My cousin has just lost a very close friend to cancer, which I'm sure you think like me is bad enough. But her friend was only just 20. The facilities for cancer treatment and palliative care are improving all the time. But teenagers (in reality, kids between 16 and 24) have to be treated in adult hospital wards. Most of her (I'll not name her unless anyone asks directly) fellow patients were in their 60's and 70's. So it was awkward and embarrassing for 'E', during that awful last few weeks. She died not long after her 20th birthday. There is a charity in the UK called the Teenage Cancer Trust. It helps people our age who are struck down with this vile disease, both in treatment and facilities. It is very close to my heart. If you feel like giving anything at all to suffering people over the holidays, its a very worthwhile cause. 'E' died from a particularly virulent form of cancer, which took her life inside a few short months. Given that those shits who wrote the final series of Skins decided to inflict the same sort of inoperable and terminal disease on our beloved Naomi, it strikes home for me in a particularly poignant way. Naomi may be a fictional character, but 'E' was most definitely not.

Plug over, sorry about that. I shed some bitter tears over the weekend after hearing the news. A beautiful, intelligent person snatched away from the ones who loved her. This chapter is dedicated to 'E'. God bless you.

Naomi

Well, she's back. Emily I mean. Why that should be a thought that occupies most of my waking moments is still puzzling me. Oh yeah, that kiss, that'll be it.

I debated calling her the moment I knew she was back in town, but Mini has been filling my days (and nights) with endless reasons not to. Mini is not a stupid person. She knows something is up. I might be smart, but subtlety and craftiness are not in my nature. So my girlfriend has been particularly attentive since Miss Fitch's plane touched down at Bristol airport. I've been lunched relentlessly, every moment of my allotted hour away from JI filled with gossip and delicious food (one of my many weaknesses). Evenings too have been a whirl of invitations to nights out or in with a DVD and bottle of wine. If I had to make an educated guess, I'd say Miss McGuiness is trying very hard to monopolise my life. Oh and then there are the nights. Let's just say Mini was obviously a very attentive student of the sapphic arts after we split up. She seems to have picked up quite a few of the skills necessary to keep a girl very happy. Some I'd only read about. Restraints...watching porn together...toys...dressing up...you get the picture? Watching Mini strip a sexy nurse outfit off infinitely slowly while I lie naked on my bed, securely fastened by scarves is one of my most...err... vivid recent memories. Satisfied? Yep, that box is heavily ticked.

So it was almost a week until I got some 'me' time and cried off lunch, quoting a heavy work load. Actually it wasn't all bull. Since Miss Fitch dropped her bombshell, life has been, well interesting, at Jupiter Investments. Richard Hurst has been stomping around like a wounded buffalo. I've not incurred his wrath, but several have, including the slime ball T Stonem, which gave me a small amount of pleasure, I admit. Watching the cocky bastard visibly shrink in his chair while the CEO ripped into him on the phone gave the whole department a reason to snigger into their hands. I don't think Tony has often been cut down to size.

Any mention of Emilys name of course is strictly verboten. She is now a non person at JI.

So...I need to phone her, but I just keep getting sidetracked. Whenever Mini isn't, err...entertaining me...I pick my mobile up and re read her message. Does she just want to be friends? After all, I might have chickened out calling, but a phone is a two way thing. Maybe I'm a bit miffed that she hasn't contacted me either. She's been back a while now. Maybe that week away with her sister gave her her confidence back. Maybe she met some hot stud in Crete and let him shag the gay right out of her again. After all, she was in denial for most of her life. I know how easy it is for the uncommitted girl to go back to the safety of cock. It wouldn't be the first time I thought I'd cracked it with a straight girl only to find out she'd been wrapped around a male body every moment she could get. That's why I never usually bother with girls who aren't sure. Its shorthand for 'well, that was nice, but maybe I'll try dick again, just to be sure'.

I don't need that sort of heartache. Been there, done that...

XXX

Emily

I checked my phone again, then threw it on the bed with a huff of frustration. No calls. Not that I'm actually expecting one now. The frustration is mainly with myself for bothering to check. I might not be working at JI now, but I still have a couple of friends there. Not close friends, I didn' really cultivate that sort of work mates, but close enough to be able to get whatever gossip is still going around. Me quitting and slagging Richard off was definitely the subject de jour for a while, but it dies off eventually. My ex boss/fuck buddy has reasserted his dominance on the company of course. I never doubted he would. At least my threat to let Melanie know about our year long affair worked though. I got a letter from HR with a copy reference, just so I would know what would be sent out to potential employers if they asked for one. Nice to know as so far I haven't even tried. Being well paid for a few years at least gives you a financial buffer for a while. I have a nice little savings account and my mortgage is paid up to date. So I'm not too worried.

No, the gossip at the moment is more about Naomi and this Mini girl she has been seeing. Part of me cheered at the bit where Tony Stonem got cut down to size when he tried his inevitable sleaze on her (thanks Rebecca for that gem) but I'm not quite so comfortable with the ongoing bit of that slap down. Apparently they are definitely still an item. Lunches, hand holding and all. Bitch. Not quite sure which of them that description applies to, but it does hurt.

Not that I have any right really. One tender kiss and a promise to call me isn't exactly a declaration of undying love, is it? Specially when it was me who kissed her. She never promised me anything apart from that she would call. No time-scale, nothing else.

But she hasn't.

Which burns quite a bit.

Being Richards bit on the side restricted my social life quite a lot. I was usually first reserve for nights out if Melanie was unavailable. I say nights out, we didn't do much partying in public. Too many chances for us to be spotted. Our affair might have been common knowledge at Jupiter, but Richard obviously wasn't comfortable being too reckless. We had the odd night out, restaurants (out of the way and discreet), pubs and the odd nightclub. But to be honest and if I cared to think about it forensically...not that I did much of that...it was more a few drinks, a bit of groping in a taxi, then the horizontal tango for yours truly. He shagged me in quite a few unusual places (no not that!) I meant geographically. Living dangerously for Richard was having me blow him in a nightclub booth or having me standing up in an alleyway. Classy yeah? I think it was the sleaziness of the act that got him off most. For me it was usually short, semi painful and unsatisfying. But that's what mistresses are for, aren't they? Handy for doing the things (Melanie thought swallowing was disgusting) the man can't get at home. I was just the willing and pliable receptacle. Looking back, I hate myself for being so stupid.

So meeting Naomi, even with the whole 'gay' thing going on, had been a revelation. I fancied her, even if my inhibitions stopped me doing anything about it until it was too late. Which it turns out it is. Too late that is...

Forcing myself not to be such a saddo, checking my phone yet again, I tucked it into my jacket pocket and took a deep breath. Time to move on Emily. I heard the taxi hoot outside. The rest of my life beckoned and this time I was going to wave back. Tonight Emily Fitch, you are going to take a trip into the unknown.

I took a long look at myself in the hall mirror before leaving.

Hair immaculate, check. Make-up maybe a bit bolder that normal, check.

Short blue skirt with black tights and knee boots, check.

Tight white tee, check

Short leather jacket, check.

There was a second when I panicked a little. Maybe I'd overdone that whole newly outed lesbian chick thing? But I took another deep breath and thanked my lucky stars I'd downed half a bottle of Shiraz before getting dressed. Dutch courage was very much needed tonight. If the rumours about this club were true, even someone as inexperienced as Miss Emily Fitch would attract the right sort of attention. My ego needed a boost and apparently the Bunker night club was the new place for gay girls to hang out. Loud music, expensive drinks and hopefully lots and lots of sexy women to eyeball.

With one last look at myself in the mirror, I shut the door behind me and headed for the taxi...

Naomi

"Nightclubbing...really Min?" I sort of got sweaty Bristol nightclubs out of my system at Uni...loads of pilled up students semi fucking on the dance floor, or worse occupying every available toilet cubicle, shagging each other. I have a perfectly serviceable double bed here...can't we just get pissed, fool about a bit, then find out if that headboard still makes a noise...?"

I was wasting my time of course. Mini was on a mission to be out and seen with me. I felt like the FA Cup, being paraded on the streets after the cup final. The glittering trophy, shown to adoring fans. But there was no arguing with her in this mood.

"Naomi, you're twenty something, not seventy. Much as I like to get down and dirty with you babe...I also like music and fun. Come on you old fart...lets go out and get hammered. That double bed will still be there at 2am. Then we can find out about the squeaky headboard?"

I sighed in defeat. The Bunker it is then, I thought wearily.

OK, short but just to show you I'm still here!

Next one will be much longer. Emily, Naomi and Mini in a gay nightclub, booze, music and maybe even some illegal substances...what could possibly go wrong?

Thanks for stopping by!