Little Fingers! (8 page)

“
Your
supper.”

“
And a lot of
gnat bites. They don't half irritate him. He rummages round the
house for hours scratching his scalp. I keep telling him that if he
doesn't give up fishing, I will leave him. He doesn't pay a blind
bit of notice.”

I remember
watching Mary all the way through those afternoons, trying to
squeeze the essence out of her and into my mind. There were moments
when she behaved typically middle-aged, in her thoughts and even in
the way she shuffled in her chair. Then, she would be twenty, full
of enthusiasm, teasing and astute. Playfulness. Softness.
Toughness. Calculation.

I was less
interested in Tom once I had set my sights on Mary. He began to
irritate me with his sawn-off ways. I have met plenty of really
hard men in my life, and several equally hard women. Some people
would say that I am one. This provincial strutter was not hard.
Mary is harder than he was. He just nursed his bruised heart behind
a monumental lifetime sulk.

Curiously,
though, women found his sulking irresistible, even Mary. She was
doing everything to suppress any intimation of it, but I could hear
her calming herself down, dampening her spontaneity. And the more I
came to like her, the more upset I was by it, and the more
resentful of Tom.

I admit it.
Sometimes I wanted Tom out of my way because he was interfering
with the relationship I wanted to build with Mary. So long as he
was around, I thought that Mary would not even register me. The
chances for me were slight anyway, but Tom threatened to erase them
entirely. Tom was from her world. I was not. They had shared a
childhood together. I hadn't. Tom was a man, and I am a woman. I
have never been able to tell whether a woman is turned on by other
women. I thought that Mary was as straight as they come.

I stopped our
lunch parties because I became too jealous. I felt too left
out.

I tackled them
separately from then on.

* *
*

Madame Quelque
Chose de Quelque Part, as we call her, has just been up to collect
the rent.

It really is
not that difficult for her. She arrives, we pay her the money in
cash, and she goes.

However, she
insists on turning the whole banal non-event into a suppurating
drama. You can see it churning in her mind. Will the house be
damaged? Will they pay? Will they make outrageous demands? Will
they be engaged in lewd acts of indecency?

She stands
there as if dealing with very naughty children who should be
punished, but she will let us off with a severe warning this time.
She clicks her teeth at anything she dislikes, real or imagined, as
she surreptitiously checks as much of the house as she can find an
excuse to inspect. I really do not think that the French have got
the hang of service. In France, it is the seller who is in charge,
not the buyer. “La direction” decides what goes and what
doesn't.

I tried last
month to explain to Madame that we were the clients, and as we were
paying, she should settle for that. “Pay? Of course you pay,” she
replied. “It is normal.”

“
Yes, we are
behaving normally, as you say,” I declared emphatically.

She gave me a
look to the effect that two women of our age sharing a house was
far from normal, and that we were lucky that she was prepared to
tolerate it.

I suggested
that she might prefer us to rent another house.

“
You must
give one month's notice,” she warned. “That is the
contract.”

Mary and I
like the house, but it is nothing special. I am sure that we could
find a hundred houses similar to this one around Béziers. We have
stayed up several nights discussing whether to leave or not, but
have yet to come to a decision.

Madame QC de
QP's husband refuses to address us at all. He nods as he passes us,
but cannot be lured into a conversation. My French is nearly
fluent, but he feigns unintelligibility.

Their children
are different. Thibault, who is in his mid-twenties has visited us
a few times. He believes himself to be a fellow citizen of the
world, although he has never in practice left the Pays d'Oc. He
comes round to eat our food, drink our wine, and to learn about
life and everything. I think that we are a fund of stories for his
friends.

Alice, his
younger sister, on the other hand, is genuinely interested in us.
She is gay, and has not yet had an opportunity to explore her
sexuality in this highly conservative region. “It is not Paris,”
she keeps repeating, although she has never been to Paris to judge
it at first hand.

She asks a lot
of questions about us, and especially about how we found each
other.

I have noticed
how much more relaxed Mary has become socially when she is with me.
She drops her pretence at demure, mature conservatism and reveals
the passionate side of her nature. She does this particularly in
front of Alice whom I think she views as her younger self in need
of careful guidance.

“
So how did
you get to know each other? Is it difficult in England?”

“
I should
think the same as in France.”

“
Had you ever
dated another woman before?”

“
Not me. Oh,
no way. It never even occurred to me as an option. There are many
strange sexual practices in our village, but women together is
definitely not one of them. Julia had, though.”

“
Had
you?”

“
Oh yes, I
have been with many women. I always knew I liked girls, from the
start.”

“
Was that
compliqué, complex, for you? Were you ashamed?”

“
Until
recently, not at all. It seemed entirely normal……..”

“
Normal?”

“
Yes, it was
what my body wanted to do, so I wanted it too.”

“
So, how did
you know which women, girls, would acquiesce? How could you
differentiate them?”

“
I couldn't.
Well, some are obvious, but mostly I did not have a clue. I just
tried it on.”

“
Were they
angry?”

“
Yes, sure,
it happened. I even got hit once or twice. And sometimes their
boyfriends would threaten me.”

“
You were
menaced? What did they say?”

“
Well,
usually, they asked me what I was doing. Did I not know that she
was with him? She had no interest in me, so they didn't want to see
me again, that sort of thing.”

“
They are
very tolerant in England. If this village knew about me, no-one,
no-one would talk to me. They would close their lips, and look
away. Call me a pervert. I would have to leave.”

“
Yes, that
happens in England, too.”

Mary laughed.
“You should see some of the looks we got in Hanburgh. Luckily, my
husband Frank has a nasty temper, so they did not say too
much.”

“
You are
married?”

“
Yes, I have
been married for 25 years.”

“
And it did
not feel wrong?”

“
No, it felt
right. Frank and I are very good friends. We are still very good
friends. It will work out in the end.”

“
That is
strange. You English people arrange things very
strangely.”

“
We don't
welcome too much emotion in England.”

“
It is
evident. So what happened? Do you mind if I ask?”

“
Not at all,”
Mary and I said together. We glanced at each other.

Mary
started.

“
Julia
invited Frank and me round for lunch. We all got on very well.
Frank likes Julia. Then Frank wanted to go fishing. My husband is
very keen on fishing.”

Alice made a
face. “OK.”

"Julia and I
carried on our conversation. As we talked, I began to feel this
incredible closeness to Julia, as if we were twins. We kept coming
out with the same thoughts. We found ourselves laughing all the
time. We had a ball……”

“
A
what?”

“
A ball - a
good time.”

“
OK.” Alice
giggled.

“
Then?”

“
Then we were
kissing each other. I don't know who started it. It just came
together. We couldn't help it. We had probably drunk the best part
of a bottle of Chardonnay between us, we were connecting so
strongly, having a riot,, and I had this irresistible urge to kiss
her, and to hug her, and for Julia to kiss me?”

“
Wow! That is
really cool.”

“
It was
nice.”

“
And
then?”

“
Surely you
don't want all the details.”

Alice hugged
her knees. “Yes, I do.”

“
Why?”

“
Because it
is something I have never dared to do. It is a marvellous thing for
me. I want to know it can be done.”

“
Oh, it can
certainly be done,” I said. “Much harder for it to be
undone.”

“
Undone?”

“
Stopped. To
forget that it had ever happened.”

“
You wanted
that?”

“
Me, no. Mary
did for a while.”

“
It took some
time for me to come to terms with the situation. Those kisses
overthrew a whole lifetime of beliefs.”

“
Did you do
more than kiss?”

Mary chuckled
indulgently. “This girl is very persistent.”

“
Everyone
says I am very persistent.”

“
Well………”

“
Tell
me!”

“
Well, what
is there to say? We took our clothes off and we made
love.”

Alice turned
to Mary. “Did you know what to do?”

“
No, not
really. I followed Julia. She knew exactly what to do. It was a
revelation.” Mary faced me as if asking whether she should say
more. She hesitated. Finally, her new found role as Godmother to
this girl imposed its demands and she added “and when Julia went
down between my legs and started licking me, I nearly fainted. I
had never experienced anything like it. Frank never did anything
like that to me. It was so intimate, and rather crude. It was so
liberating.”

Alice nodded
“I would like to try that. Would you help me?”

Alice is cute.
Very sexy. It was not at all difficult for either of us to decide
that we would wish to help her, but we hesitated. We had both been
in bed with Frank, but he is Mary's husband. I was not betraying
Mary in any sense. I was sticking to our agreement. We had not
discussed Alice. We had not taken any view on whether we would
consider having sex with a third woman. However Mary might react
now, how would she behave tomorrow, after deep thought? I was
really unsure.

Mary stroked
Alice's hair. “We will help you. If that is what you really
want.”

“
I really
want it.”

“
Then where
would you like it to take place?”

Alice looked
around nervously. “Not here. Someone might be watching. That would
be terrible.”

So we returned
to the house.

Mary put her
arm around Alice in the garden. Alice shrugged it off. “Not here.
It isn't safe.”

Alice resisted
the salon too, so eventually we ended up in the bedroom. Mary and I
worked together to remove her clothes. She began to
tremble.

“
Are you
absolutely sure you want to continue?” Mary quizzed her.

“
Absolutely
sure. I am just a bit anxious.”

We removed our
own clothes. We were all three naked in a row. I concentrated on
her top half, Mary on everything below the waist. We were quite a
team. Alice remained rather tense until Mary slipped her tongue
inside her, and that unlocked her as it had released Mary when I
had done it for her that first time. Once Alice had come, which
didn't take long, she turned on us. It was like being attacked by a
puppy, all wetness and enthusiasm and lots of gauche moves. Neither
Mary nor I reached a climax, but we had a great time.

“
Will you two
do it together while I watch?” Alice asked.

“
No way,”
Mary replied immediately. “That would be too weird.” So we all got
under the duvet, and we fell asleep.

* *
*

Chapter
6

You must
admit, Inspector, that while this book may not solve your case, you
are getting some titillation on the side. Does it turn you on, the
thought of three bare-breasted, bare-bottomed and bare-minded women
in a bed, and all of us beautiful? You know all about Mary and me.
You have not seen Alice. She is dark, Latin, skinny, full of
attitude and some resentment. You would like her physically. Her
behaviour would almost certainly irritate you. It would depend
whether your mind or your body was in control at the
time.

I wish I could
introduce you. To do that, I would have to know where she is. I
assume that she is with Mary somewhere, if they are still together;
if they were ever together. They probably are.