"You know, that's the one thing we haven't done since we've come here, seeing some live music," Nikki said meditatively as she looked at herself in the changing room mirror.
"OK so what's special about the pair of jeans you're buying?" sighed Helen with her hands on her hips in her own prospective purchase, a glorious flame coloured halter necked floaty dress that brought out the very best of her physical features.
"This is a pair of American jeans. They're special," emphasised Nikki. The little smile on her face flirtatiously accented her cheeky persistence in butting against her lover's apparent good sense. For some reason she couldn't explain to herself, she really had to buy those jeans as they were perfectly contoured to her body and made her feel good about herself. Despite Helen's implied logic of jeans in her far off wardrobe half the world away in London, they were special. She had to have them.
"We'd do our duty phone call home and tell Chris how our PR operation went," Helen suddenly said as they waited in the queue to pay for their purchases. Nikki frowned in reply but didn't say anything. A couple of minutes later, both women spoke to the woman on the checkout to pay for their goods, noting the look of surprise at their accents. They'd got used to this in a land where the rapid speaking American intonations were starting to get wired into their mental DNA as a constant presence. They could appreciate the contrast of Nikki's mellifluous accent and Helen's sharply accented Scottish brogue.
Finally, they emerged out into the sunshine and, with a sign of resignation, Nikki fished out her mobile phone.
"I know what you mean Helen. A promise is a promise,"sighed Nikki, smiling briefly at her partner. At the end of the day, she knew that Helen was only reminding her of her profound sense of duty.
"You mean you didn't want to reconnect with home when we're having such a wonderful time and we've really been taken out of ourselves,"Helen answered with a broad smile. She wasn't going to talk about their impending return. That would come in its own good time.
"Hiya Chris," Nikki said, leaning against the shopfront wall, the presence of the balmy sunlight shining down on them as a stream of words came straight out of her subconscious."We're having a great time, we've met some lovely women and the weather is marvellous and, oh yeah, we gave Women in Prison a good plug at the Chico's gathering."
"You're lucky," Chris said in caustic tones before her obvious affection came to the surface for her two capable subordinates what were also her close friends. She was missing their cheerful presence more than she could say."I'm sitting in my office watching it pissing down with rain outside. I can just about see the grey clouds outside my window and the heating's on the blink again. Still, I'm sure you did your bit and I'm grateful for you guys bringing in work into your well deserved break."
At the back of Nikki's mind, a little window opened onto the realities of English weather, red double-decker busses and fish and chips while she idly looked at her bare, sun-bronzed arm as she shut down her mobile phone. She was wearing a pair of cool white trousers and loose fitting T-shirt. If she were living in London, she knew she'd be wearing a thick pullover and winter coat to ward off the cold and rain. She shook her head as if trying to expunge the tenacity of her memories.
"Want to have a coffee across the way and maybe chill out?" Helen said softly, sensing her partner's down mood. Nikki turned her head to smile gratefully at her.
Simone and Annabelle had also got plenty to think about. At midday, the fair-haired woman had changed into her favourite short-sleeved green T-shirt and a loose-fitting pair of white trousers. She was sitting on their bed, strumming a particular chord sequence on her guitar and mouthing words that she'd written down on a sheet of exercise paper in her neat handwriting with chord changes denoted by her red biro pen. Annabelle was sitting quietly at the dining room table. She knew not to interrupt Simone while she was in the middle phase of creating a new song so she was starting to write down their set list for the songs they would play at Chico's. She was starting to realise that, even if they played every song they knew, they weren't up to performing for an hour let alone longer than that. They needed new songs and fast so she let Simone follow her inspiration. She was also in a state of indecision as to the order of their songs. As she fiddled with her pen in an abstracted fashion, Simone flew into the dining room, a brilliant smile on her face.
"Hey so how's my genius composer girlfriend of mine been getting on?"Annabelle asked, turning her face to receive an enthusiastic kiss on her lips.
"I'm really happy with it. Don't know if Rilke would approve," Simone responded with exactly the sort of shy smile that the younger woman fondly endeared itself to her from their first intimate talk in St Theresa's library.
"Let's hear it. I'm really curious," came the sort of cheerful encouraging response which is exactly what Simone's sensitivities craved.
Simone padded back into their bedroom, sat on the sofa and started to sing and play a beautiful, gentle mystical song that captured the essence of the poetry she'd taught her a lifetime ago, only set to music. Sure enough, she played that four chord bridge in the middle of the song that Annabelle had heard her play earlier on and contrasted to perfection with the rest of her song. Already, the younger woman could hear the sort of drum rhythms that Diane especially loved, a cool undulating Erin bass line while her own imagined counterpointed guitar line slotted in effortlessly. Her lips were parted with wonder and she heard the applause in her head as the last tinkling notes from Simone's guitar faded into the air.
"The song is called 'Ladies of the Canyon.' I think I borrowed the title from somewhere but it fits," Simone said sheepishly. She glowed inside to feel her lover's soft, warm kiss on her and the expression of admiration in her eyes. She felt as if her English composition had been given an unexpected A+ grade.
"That song just has to be second or third in our set list. We're getting there kid," Annabelle exclaimed with evident pleasure. She gestured towards her scribbles on the sheet of paper of the songs that they'd played together over the past few weeks. Simone exhaled sharply in excitement as she started to hear echoes in her head of a concert taking shape, especially given the slant Erin and Diane had provided them. Her blue eyes opened wide in wonder.
It was just at this moment that they heard a polite knock on their front door. They guessed that their friends were calling on them and the timing couldn't be better. Intrigued, Simone opened the door and noticed that Erin and Diane looked unusually shy and reticent.
"I guess this isn't just a social call," Simone said in her easy tones after the preliminary exchange had been got out of the way.
"We know we need more songs and, er, rather than let you guys do all the hard work, we've come up with something on our own, that is if you're interested."
Simone put her own composition on hold for now. Her sharp senses told her that the normally straight-taking Erin was really hanging on her approval, especially being an educated woman and all that so the group needed this dealt with first.
"We'd really love to hear your composition. It's perfectly allowed for you guys to write songs for the group," Simone said gently to Annabelle's evident approval. Diane and Erin cheered up at this response but they weren't as jubilant as their friends had expected. Erin held the sheet of paper shyly behind her back which indicated who was the composer.
"OK, so how do you want to play it?" asked Annabelle gently of the obvious songwriter of the two
"Can I borrow one of your guitars? I'm not so great on it but I'll get by. Diane'll sing it as she knows how it goes."
Annabelle handed over her multicoloured instrument to the smaller woman who took it gingerly and sat at the table, the lyric sheet with chord changes visible to Diane who leant over her shoulder. Her eyes never left the fretboard as she strummed the introduction and Diane mentally counted herself into the song.
As the song unfolded, the other two women saw through the nervous performance and their heightened concentration drank in the charming lyrics and forceful melody of the song. Diane pushed her way through the song, painfully conscious that her voice didn't have her friends' lightness and flexibility, rapping on the table to keep time. Erin 's fingers missed the comfort and smoothness of feel of the four bass strings. It felt as if she was trying to speak in a different dialect while automatic habits craved the familiar patterns. Somehow, the two women struggled through to the end and Diane shut her eyes, deathly afraid at what their friends might think of their effort. Instead, they broke into a spontaneous burst of clapping and Diane and Erin felt weak with pleasure that their little contribution had been so generously received.
"We want to work your song into the set," pronounced Annabelle enthusiastically."Of course, we'll figure out a full band arrangement between us."
"You don't know how really scared we were to play this song for you," Erin confessed, her feelings of relief pouring out of her.
"We're sisters after all. You can write songs for the group anytime you want to,"Simone said, meaning every word she said.
"You've come at a great time. We were roughing out a set list. Wanna join us in working on it?" Annabelle offered with a winning smile."Simone's just written a great song called 'Ladies of the Canyon.'"
The four women crowded excitedly round the table, agreeing that Annabelle's song selection sounded great when it was all put together and taking on trust Annabelle's estimation of Simone's new song. The question arose as to how best sequence the songs. This sparked off ideas between them in a beautifully cooperative fashion. Annabelle finally reached for a fresh sheet of paper to write down the definitive list. More than ever before, they truly felt they were a group where nothing and no one was excluded.
"If we're going to be professionals, we have to think like professionals,"Annabelle said in a tone of voice that lifted the others' spirits up and didn't beat them down. "OK, so we kick off with Tori Amos 'Pancake' song."
"I love it. It really punches out and makes a strong statement. It doesn't matter that we didn't write it," Erin agreed in her straightforward fashion.
"Hey, how come we agree with each other so easily?" questioned Simone with a quizzical expression on her face and smoothing a curly lock of hair from out of her eyes.
"Because we were meant to be," Diane said with total assurance and bright confidence."I never reckoned any singer guitarists wanted a drummer writing songs but, hey here we are."
Suddenly, they were all conscious of a golden glow shining in from the sea. It seemed to match their mood and feel so right.