"So what do we do next?"Simone said excitedly, her long fair hair flying round her face."There's so much we need to do but I don't know what to do first."
"Spit it out Simone," Annabelle said affectionately, the fingers of her right hand affectionately stroking the side of her face. Diane and Erin grinned at the sight of the younger woman being the calming influence while a warm feeling spread through their systems at the visible enthusiasm and optimism that was also inspiring them also. Annabelle marvelled at the way her lover's complexion was so clear and fresh in contrast to her frown lines when they were teacher and pupil at St Theresa's.
"I really want us to take our guitars to our rehearsal studio and work up a great version of our two new songs but I also want us to get Vanessa and Jenny to take some group photographs of us for our concert on Friday,"Simone answered at lightning speed. The cool, calm teacher Annabelle had known was a million miles away from where this adorable woman was right now, Annabelle felt affectionately.
"Why don't you pick up the phone and see how soon they can fit us in? They might not be able to accommodate us immediately,"Erin chimed in.
"Of course, of course" fluttered Simone in a totally charming way while her friends looked on affectionately. This blond-haired woman was such a darling.
In another part of town, enclose behind the invisible walls of a leafy scholastic institution, tension was rising in the comfortable office where power had been concentrated up till now. Right now, the Mother Immaculata was finding that she was having a battle on her hands. Father Harris's stubborn independence at the last graduation ceremony had continued and Sister Clair wasn't the dependable subordinate she'd once been, especially as she'd had extra responsibilities dumped on her. Only the multi-coloured goldfish, remained removed from the conflict as they swum contentedly around the invisible confines of the glass bowl, oblivious of all the conflict raging around them.
"Sister Claire, I must remind you that it's a fortnight until we start the new year. We still have the post unfilled for a new teacher for the seniors for English and French minimum?
Surely that can't be too hard to organise?" she snapped at the harrassed looking, brown haired woman.
"I've tried to recruit a sister but of the two I interviewed, neither comes remotely up to the standard we're looking for. I spread the net wider for teachers without a specific religious background and the one applicant I interviewed ducked out after the interview so we've still got nowhere."
"That's no excuse, Sister Clair. You're trying to blame everyone and everything for your lack of application," lectured Mother Immaculata in her sternest tones.
"I'm sure the recent press publicity has damaged the school's reputation amongst the Church. Our insistence on live in responsibilities might be the other half of the problem,"Sister Clair said with great restraint. Inside, she was boiling with anger in being stuck with an impossible mission. Since Miss Bradley's hurried departure, she'd been promoted to the Mother Immaculata's right hand woman full-time. She realised now that it was a poisoned chalice.
"That should be a bonus, not a disincentive. Instead of some new teacher at the bottom of the scale having to run the cost of a home, it gets provided by us for free,"scoffed the Mother Immaculata.
"You might need to seriously think about getting the existing dorm heads to cover and hire a teacher who simply teaches English and French. It would make my job hiring a new teacher much easier."
"And pray explain why?"
"Ordinary teachers aren't nuns," Sister Claire retorted, her self control starting to slip."They have a sense of vocation to their students but they do have lives outside school. They're smart enough to realise that the price for free accommodation in the school is in dealing with the students under their care outside school. Devout Christians of any denomination are much more willing to take on such responsibilities."
Sister Clair paused for breath as she wondered just how bold she dare become. The fact that the Mother Immaculata didn't interrupt her although her face reddened meant that all her pent-up thoughts started to pour out in a steady stream.
"You must know how rebellious the last few years seniors have been. It's not improved by rich parents who rely on us to instill discipline into their wayward children. It's the second ultimate solution, short of military school. Take Kristen Edwards for example who had to retake her senior year when she got pregnant..."
It was at that point that Sister Clair stopped short. The black expression on the Mother Immaculata's face assumed thundercloud intensity. Both women knew that the conversation was irresistibly heading towards naming the Nemesis of the other woman's existence, one Annabelle Tillman. What was most maddening of all to the Mother Immaculata was that one moment of giving way to blind emotion when her eyes laid sight of the two partially clad women has resulted in dragging them all into the hole she dug. Underlying this was the dread thought that she'd not heard the last of these two women who were haunting her very existence in their absence.
Only at that moment did she see Father Harris who had entered the open door, shaking his head disapprovingly at her. The price she'd also paid for marginalising him was that she was stuck with the consequences of her imperiousness and her world was closing in on her.
Many miles away, the world was opening up for four excited women. They excitedly felt the dice metaphorically spin and rattle on the table to see what number would come up, and decide whether they'd head over to the studio of their friends Alison and Vanessa in their lovely old timey studio for their first group photographs or would they whiz over to their place to work up their two latest songs into their concert repertoire? Erin and Diane loved the way Simone described the dump across the way from their apartment as 'their rehearsal studio.' It was typical of her quiet consideration and they could see why Annabelle loved her so much.
Vanessa was hard at work on the sort of run of the mill job that paid her bills. The husband wearing a smart white suit, shirt and tie accompanied his blond haired wife who wore a blue pleated shirt and blouse, the grandmother who was an older version of her daughter and they bustled along with all the paraphernalia of transporting the focus of attention, their baby daughter who was dressed for the occasion in a purple velvet dress. She took the standard shots of them sitting on carved old wooden seats, the mother handling the baby with a wooden screen as backdrop. All the time that her professional mode of operation was in gear, she couldn't help wondering just what the world held in store for this little creature. She had fresh faced cheeks and an innocent smile while her grey eyes took in everything around her. She was bound to grow up attractive but would she follow in the footsteps of her conventionally looking parents? Who could say? Somewhere at her own parents house, long overlooked folders of photographs existed of when she was a baby, so much promise in her eyes. Finally, she clicked the last shot of the baby on her own just before she was likely to get tired and bothered in expressing her feelings the only way she knew how.
"That's the last,"Vanessa said politely enough, shaking the mother by the hand."I'll get working on the photographs so my partner can mount them in the folders you selected."
"It must work out very well in your business, you two women being friends," the mother said in wide-eyed innocence.
"We've done a lot of growing up together. We get along," Alison said lightly, assuming the alternate identity reserved for customers.
"This reminds me of the place I went to when I was a little girl," the grandmother said with a little laugh
"I'll call you up when they're ready to pick up," Alison said pleasantly with her business smile attached to her face, waiting while the family tramped down the flight of wooden steps.
It was at that moment when the phone rang. Intrigued, Alison wondered what was in store for them and put her best business voice on ready for the conventionalities of business dealings. Instead, Simone's distinctly melodious voice came down the line accented by a little shiver of excitement.
"Simone and I are playing in a group with two other women and we wanted you to take some publicity photographs of us."
Instantly, the fair haired woman's face lit up with delight, drawing Vanessa's attention. Wheels of preliminary thoughts were starting to whirl round in her mind.
"So do you want the four of you to come here and pose or isn't that rock and roll enough for you? Do you want to pose with your instruments?" Alison asked.
Simone was instantly flummoxed. She hadn't thought that far ahead. Deducing the reason for the sudden hush, Alison made a suggestion.
"We need to see what you've got so we might as well come out to your place and see you set up and we can help decide what looks best. You know what our studio looks like if you think that's best. We need to come up with a good visual concept that might look good on posters."
Instantly, Simone's mind was made up and she quickly whispered to the others who instantly agreed. They were off and away, laughing like schoolgirls and clattering their way up the path to where their cars were parked. Simone and Annabelle placed their guitars in the back seat and they were off down the road, following their friend's guiding light. The closer Diane and Erin got to their destination, the more uneasy they felt about the recording studio being the scene of the photo shoot. Sure, it had a funky, hang loose feel about it when they practised their music together and it was certainly functional but it was hardly a work of art. It woke latent housewife instincts in them that they had thought dead and buried. As they turned into their side street, they spied two women in a car who waved at them who they presumed were Vanessa and Alison.
"I'll grab my bass as we pass through," Erin advised their two new friends as they passed through their apartment. Vanessa's quick eye picked up on the homely feel of the place and sensed possibilities. When they got to the rehearsal studio, it presented an entirely different perspective which presented her with a real dilemma. With her hand held camera weighing her down from the strap hanging round her neck, she directed the four attractive women to pose for the camera. The businesslike foursquare amplifiers, the solid shapes of the drum kit, the two acoustic guitars linked to their power supply by sinister coiled electric leads contrasted the vision of womanhood against a down to earth rectangular space that definitely looked street. Instantly, she made up her mind, Alison watching and following her creative moods.
"Okay," she said in her commanding voice."I'll do two shoots, one here and the other with just your guitars and a single drum in your apartment. There's one other thing I want you to do."
"And what's that?" Erin asked in her direct fashion.
"You play me a song so I can be sure to photograph what you're playing," Vanessa replied, tossing her long hair back off her shoulders. All four women brightened up at that illuminating thought. Simone reached for the edge of her T shirt nervously as she had one proposition to put to this meticulous woman whom she knew wanted to get her photographs just right.
"I hope you don't mind Vanessa, but we've got two new songs hot off the press. We've played them acoustic and we really want to work up band arrangements on one of them."
"Suits me," the other woman said nonchalantly in her most calming fashion."You know I do formal portraits where I want everything right but the other side of me can handle a bit of spontaneity. I have a gut feeling that if you do your thing, I'll get the best photographs. Just pretend Alison and me don't exist or treat us as your audience."
The expression on all four women's faces was as if light-bulbs had been switched on in their minds. This was the perfect solution and, while Diane climbed onto her drum seat, the other women plugged in their guitars, tuned up and juggled round with the sound levels. Simone became conscious of standing in the middle of Erin on one side and Annabelle on the other. Her tenacious memory, born of years of teaching, meant that she had sponged up the lyrics and chord changes. She had in her mind a punchier arrangement of the song as she counted the group into the song and a surge of confidence flooded throughout her system. She set up a sturdy guitar riff which the other three women quickly tuned into and their particular musical part jumped into their minds. As Simone launched into the song, Diane let loose a quick drum break settling on the rhythm that her hands had beaten out on her friend's dining table while Erin clipped in a ready bass line. Annabelle stood starry-eyed for a second as her friends instantly ran up a sparkling arrangement of the song until a nicely complex piece of arpeggio playing came instantly from her mind to her fingers along with some chord playing. Simone's voice was so sure, so certain that she was swept up alongside her and she pitched her voice underneath her lover's pure tones. She was in seventh heaven.
As they relaxed into the song, Simone became aware that Alison was watching them wide-eyed with admiration and even Vanessa's strict dedication to the job in hand as her flashbulbs exploded in front of her eyes didn't stop her watching them open mouthed. This really was her first taste of performing before an audience and she loved it.