CHAPTER 11

Sidonie drove north to the 401 then travelled eastward to highway #115. She could have taken a more diagonal route, but felt comfortable with this. Being Thursday they were avoiding the mass exodus of Torontonians who, every weekend, headed for release from the daily grind and up to cottage country.

Chatting was companionable, any former strain gone with the disappearance of the city skyscrapers. Admiration for the greenness of the farmers’ fields, not yet dried out by the heat of the summer sun, filled their consciousness. The sky was a clear blue with just the odd fluffy cumulus floating at leisure in the stratosphere. It felt good to get away from the constant pall of pollution which hung over Toronto. Driving southward from Parry Sound or other points north, the distinctive grey haze which so characterized the city’s location by Lake Ontario, was unmistakable. In contrast, there were no diesel fumes here and the amount of traffic dwindled to the odd motorbike; they had the road to themselves. Escape was therapeutic. Sidonie spotted a deserted lay-by and pulled over.

‘Why are we stopping?’ Tenille queried without concern, simply idle curiosity.

‘You’ll see,’ was the only response.

The engine cut, she swung round, fiery eyes pinning Ten’s. ‘For old time’s sake,’ she said huskily as she took her into her arms and their lips met impetuously. She felt Ten’s breasts pressing against her own. She caught the musky aroma of her oil and her senses reeled. Ten’s body was hot within her embrace as she moved herself closer, their hearts pounding and pulses racing. Encapsulated in their own private world, she could indulge her need, greedily. She heard Ten’s sigh as her head rested back.

‘Yes my darling, it has been a very long time,’ she responded to Sid’s non-verbalized thoughts. She yielded herself to her caresses and let her body conduct her on a wave of feeling that was sweeping her almost to the highest crest. Sid placed her hand at the base of the slender column of Ten’s throat as her tongue explored and probed, then let her hand move slowly downward, feeling heavy on the twin mounds which responded eagerly. Ten wanted more, but was lulled into savoring the pleasures of the moment and could make no demands on her lover. She let her hand slide down the side of Sid’s body to come to rest on the bare flesh of her hot thigh, just below the shorts. As the kiss grew more intense, more demanding, her boldness increased, sliding her hand under the fabric, resting it on the inner softness of the muscular leg. The feel of the warm flesh held promise of intimacies so often dreamed of, but not yet experienced. She wanted to go further then felt her wrist clasped and held firm.

Sid had pulled away slightly as she felt herself loosing control, to murmur in Ten’s ear: ‘If you want to arrive safely and in one piece, you’d best let my hands steer.’ The voice was thick and deep; the voice she recognized as filled with longing and desire unsatisfied. This aroused her more, almost beyond enduring. She wanted to give herself completely to this girl; have her do anything to her she may desire. Was she making herself abject in her love? It felt so natural. It was how she wanted to be, as she had never been with anyone before; complete submission. Her body wanted this above all; wanted to be the instrument of Sid’s lovemaking, upon which she could play melodies and harmonies, to resonate throughout her whole being. The intimacy so close, she would be consumed by her. Her body still throbbing with passion, she opened her eyes and felt her joy complete when she focused on Sid’s face, so near, her brilliant eyes blazing into hers, the golden flecks in the azure as clear as filtered cider; the streams of light from the afternoon sun illuminating her golden head.

Sid felt herself drowning in those lustrous, dark eyes as they smoldered back into hers, bright and shiny in their glistening moistness. She wanted nothing more than to make this moment last and last … to reach Ten to the ultimate; to the orgasm she knew was ready, had only lovingly to be drawn forth, until she moaned in ecstasy and clung to her … the emissary to all her innermost pleasures. She knew she could do it and one day she would.

She turned the ignition key. They took time to let the heat subside, giving themselves over to the sublimated excitement of cutting up the highway at warp factor, the wind blowing through the car, its touch feathery light, across their sweat-dampened brows.

‘It’s times like this I wish I had a ‘V 8’ convertible, low slung with chrome wheels,’ she confided , ‘quite impractical for our climate,’ she added prosaically, ‘but a wonderful fantasy.’ In wistful reflection she recalled an earlier one, after they had met in the sauna.

Tenille had ridden in the car naked, whilst she’d been fully clothed. She had driven recklessly through the silent night, still able to discern the contours of the woman’s body, her breasts, stomach and thighs, all that she’d seen before. Now she did have her next to her and, if not naked, then certainly with clothes showing the promise of the pleasures that lay beneath. The tank top, low cut at the neck, front and back, showed erect nipples through the soft cloth. The madras cotton skirt, falling in full pleats from the waistband, draped revealingly across her belly and thighs, leading the eye enticingly towards the hidden cleft where she so longed to stroke, taste and smell. Yes. One day. She drew her eyes back to the road just in time to make a steering correction. ‘Oops – sorry. Better concentrate,’ she apologized.

‘Yes, didn’t you say, ‘safe and in one piece’, a moment ago?’

‘I did, I did,’ she conceded. ‘I was letting my thoughts wander again. Tell me. I believe we’ll be coming into Lindsay soon. Do I have to make a turn?’

‘Not until you’re actually on Kent St. and then it’s left into Maple Avenue. It’s number twenty seven. Simple,’ she paused for a moment then resumed: ‘Sid …

‘Mm..m?’

‘I’m glad you stopped back there.’

‘So am I Babe,’ she confessed.

‘It’s just that … well, we may not get much time alone.’ She hesitated, wanting to explain. ‘My mother demands a lot of attention when I visit.’ She took a deep breath: ‘You see, she doesn’t think I have any life of my own; like independent of her. It’s as though I’m still a child … she expects me to be there for her … all the time.’ She cast Sid a rueful look. ‘I’m sorry, but there it is, I can’t change her.’ The shoulders heaved. ‘She may want to dominate you too, but you being who you are … you’ll probably be able to handle her.’

‘As to that, we’ll see. I want to get along with your folks,’ she reminded her. ‘I’m not about to shake their tree.’ She turned her head. ‘You don’t mention you’re dad,’ curious and intrigued. ‘How does he feature in all this?’

‘They’ve been together for so many years now, they’ve slipped into habit patterns when responding to each other. They have such well worn grooves, anything different would make them uncomfortable. Over the years it appears my mother has the more domineering, well, perhaps that’s too strong a word, but let’s say, the more demanding personality. Dad, being a Libran, likes to keep the peace and not rock the boat. Where he can, he goes along with Mom and concedes most things. I don’t know if he’d know what to do, if he didn’t have her to chivvy him. It’s made him careless. He doesn’t need to think. Dad knows she’ll do it for him. Consequently people turn to her.’

‘What does your dad do?’

‘He works in the office at Union Carbide. In that environment he’s responsible for about fifteen staff; an accountant by profession.’

‘What does he like to do to relax – for fun?’

‘For fun?’ repeated Tenille, musingly. ‘You know, I don’t really connect those two concepts – my father and fun. He enjoys fishing when he can get away.’ Her face lit up. ‘I’ve been out with him, to the Kawartha’s and we’ve had great times, but mom never liked it, so his interest waned.’

They were approaching Lindsay itself now, an old settlement of Maple-lined streets with large, clapboard houses set well back. The atmosphere was sleepy; undisturbed.

‘Tell me about where you grew up, Ten,’ wanting to know everything.

Tenille laughed. ‘Not much to tell, really. There are some families who can trace their ancestors to pioneer days. The newer suburbs feature smaller residences of the fifties and sixties, the outskirts are home to trailer parks and development lots. Around the town, land is devoted mainly to dairy cattle and their needs, but with the advent of hard times, many of the farmers have turned to running feed lots and working elsewhere.’

‘Where do they go?’

‘General Motors at Oshawa is a big employer. Others take their chances as long distance transport drivers. Good money for them in both occupations, but its long hours; especially the driving. Lindsay itself is a clearing depot for farm produce. The farming co-operative is very powerful. Oh, turn left here, Sid,’ she instructed: ‘Number twenty-seven is that white and green one on the right, with the big veranda along the front.’

Sidonie spotted it immediately. The house belonged to another era when construction was on the grand scale. She lifted a wry eyebrow.

‘Whew …’ she breathed, ‘ …you grew up there?’ Although impressed, a sudden clutch of foreboding gripped her. Perhaps this encounter wasn’t going to be quite such a free trot. When she thought of her own humble beginnings, first in a small apartment in Victoria Park and later in a Government co-operative complex, bursting at the seams with kids and harried mothers, this was light years away from her experience. Agitation spiralled upwards, making her dubious about becoming buddies with Mr. and Mrs. Fenech. She lifted her head, still clouded with concern … she could only try. The crescent driveway directed her to the imposing porch at the front of the house.

‘Don’t worry about our bags now, we can see to them later,’ Tenille suggested. She began to mount the broad steps that rose to the wide veranda. It was a laborious process. She had to balance on her crutches as she stepped up with her right foot, once stable, she brought her cast leg and crutches up to it. Just as she reached the top, Mrs. Fenech opened the door. It was solid, of carved timber, but the etched sidelights allowed observation of callers.

‘Tennie, my poor darling,’ her mother cried dramatically, as she rushed forward to embrace her daughter. She was unprepared for the cumbersomeness of someone holding onto crutches, with a foot stuck in the air. Tenille almost overbalanced with the impact of her mother’s weight and wobbled, perilously. ‘Come in Lovey. Come and rest,’ Doris fussed.

‘Mom.’ Tenille turned towards Sidonie: ‘I’d like to introduce my friend, Sidonie Henderson.’ She turned back to her mother. ‘She very kindly took time off work to bring me here.’ She wanted her mother to feel somewhat indebted to Sid. Perhaps suspend her critical judgements, before she hardened her opinion against her, which deep down she feared she could.

Sidonie stepped forward promptly to shake hands, hoping to exude a feeling of respect and good will. ‘Hi Mrs. Fenech. Pleased to meet you,’ she said in affable salutation. Doris gave a slight jerk backwards, as if she’d stepped into a cobweb.

‘Oh, yes,’ she acknowledged. ‘How do you do.’ She dropped Sidonie’s hand quickly and turned back to her daughter.

‘Come along girls, you must be tired. I’ll make us all a nice cup of tea.’ She put her hand out to Tenille. ‘Can you manage, Tennie?’

‘Yes Mom, I’m fine. Watch me.’ She hopped forward briskly to the threshold. There she stopped and, because of her anxiety over this first meeting, became flustered and put her crutches up first and almost overbalanced backwards as she tried to jump.

‘Steady Ten.’ Sidonie rushed forward to save her from falling. ‘Step your right foot forward,’ she reminded her.

‘Yes, of course, silly me. I know that’s the way to do it,’ a hasty reply, trying to cover her embarrassment. Doris felt helpless and displaced as she watched her daughter being guided by this person she found rather unusual. Not the type her Tennie normally chummed with. She viewed her as being a bit rough. Working class. Those shorts. Startlingly blue eyes though. “Well, at least she smells clean,“ she granted grudgingly. She didn’t enjoy being placed in a secondary role, especially where her daughter was concerned.

Tenille led the way to the living room and settled herself into an over-stuffed chesterfield and patted the cushion beside her for Sidonie. Sitting down, her glances were busy taking in everything: an array of antiques, strategically placed about the room: an ornate display cabinet, holding a large collection of art glass of the Art Nouveau period: Art Deco figurines. She’d never owned any, but she’d always found those graceful naiads captivating. There was even strip lighting, showing off the colors to best advantage.

“Hell’s teeth. No wonder she’s got that special air about her. She’s cultured.” thought Sidonie, as her gaze swung back to this woman she loved above all else. Mrs. Fenech’s voice intruded.

‘Would Earl Grey suit you, Sidonie?’ she was enquiring.

‘Er..r, would it be possible to have a coffee?’ Sidonie asked, hesitantly. ‘I don’t mind instant.’ As an after thought, she added, ‘I don’t want to make work for you,’ since Doris continued to regard her as if from a great distance.

Tenille dove in. ‘Yes Mom, just regular coffees would be fine for us.’ ‘We didn’t stop on the way,’ she added lamely, in unnecessary justification. ‘Where’s Betsy? I thought she’d be at the door.’

‘I put her out, knowing you’d be on crutches Tennie, but I’ll let her in now that you’re settled. I didn’t want to risk her making you fall.’ Doris rose on these words and caught an exchange of looks between the two women. She now felt even more uncomfortable; a state of being with which she was not familiar, especially in her own home. Her world had been ordered and predictable for so long. Very little ever disturbed the even tenor of her days. However, in the space of fifteen minutes she had been made to feel decidedly at odds with herself.

She plugged in the kettle before opening the swing door and looked toward the living room. She didn’t like this new friend; had an unsettled feeling no good would come of this association. Her baby was so tender hearted and susceptible; living in Toronto, she was not able to look out for her best interests. During this convalescence she’d get her to come back to Lindsay. Her Sunshine was too much the ingenue for city life.

When Doris pushed open the door Betsy bounded in with great exuberance. Not just the tail, the whole body gyrated in excited greeting. She had just known her mistress was back. All her senses had told her so.

‘Betsy, Betsy.’

Tenille put out both her arms to give her a big hug. Suddenly Betsy stopped as she realized a stranger was with them. She looked at her warily, but didn’t growl, approaching cautiously, sniffing the air and testing the scent. Slowly, Sidonie reached out her hand and called her name softly, voice low and unthreatening. ‘Hello Betsy … Hello Little One.’

The bitch responded positively, giving the owner of the voice a steady gaze and a slow tail wag. ‘Come on,’ she encouraged. ‘You can come closer.’

Betsy, gaining courage, approached diffidently. Tenille was amused to watch this exchange. Betsy could be difficult with strangers, but today she was being, for her, very co-operative. Finally, capitulating totally, her head nestling between Sidonie’s knees, she surrendered herself to pats and scratches behind the ears.

‘She’s given into you,’ Tenille observed with pleasure.

‘She probably knows I love animals.’ Sidonie laughed into Betsy’s face: ‘Don’t you, Little One,’ and was rewarded by a quick lick.

When Doris arrived with the tray she was surprised to see how won over Betsy had become. ‘I’ve made coffee for you and tea for us.’ She turned to her daughter as she put the tray on the low table, informing her her father would be home shortly.

She had just finished passing round dainty cookies when they heard the car pull into the driveway. Mr. Fenech parked in the garage and entered the house through the side door calling out: ‘Tennie, where are you?’

‘We’re in the living room Dad,’ she called back. As soon as Mr. Fenech appeared Sidonie could see at once where Tenille’s dark good looks came from. Her height was obviously his too. Doris did have dark hair, but had adopted a tight, wavy perm. Everything about Mrs. Fenech, Sidonie reflected, was ‘tight’. Tenille’s eyes were similar to Mr. Fenech’s, but his were now deep set in a face beginning to sag, giving him a somewhat ‘hangdog’ appearance, the lines running from the side of his nose to the corners of his mouth. Coming forward with eager steps, he leaned over the back of the chesterfield to hug his daughter from behind.

‘Tennie,’ he exclaimed, after he’d released her: ‘How good to have you home.’ He then went round the coffee table and kissed his wife on the cheek. ‘Hello dear. Tea I see.’

‘Dad, this is Sidonie.’

He stepped forward again as Sidonie rose to take his outstretched hand. ‘Pleased to meet you,’ she said politely. Feeling more at ease this time, she volunteered: ‘Betsy and I have been getting acquainted,’ and she looked down at the bitch who, hearing her name, had sidled over to sit at her feet, ardent for more attention, her tongue lolling to one side with expectant pants.

‘I see you’re a hit with Betsy,’ Mr. Fenech said generously. His wife gave no supporting comment, instead sharply reminded him his tea was getting cold.

As he took the stuffed chair on the other side of the table he turned his attention to his daughter. ‘Well Tennie, how’s the leg coming along? Are you allowed to walk on it?’

‘Oh no Dad.’ She pulled a face, just like when she was little he thought, when she’d been told it was time to go, or stop. ‘I’m stuck like this …’ she put out the member in question ‘ …for a few weeks yet. But the leg itself feels fine. It’s a bit itchy inside the cast sometimes, but for the most part I’ve no complaints.’

She stroked Betsy’s soft coat and ran her fingers through it, looking wistful. Alexander, ever a keen observer where his daughter’s welfare was concerned enquired gently: ‘But something is bothering you?’

She looked up and put a rather brittle smile on her face. ‘It’s nothing, really. Nothing serious, that is.’

Sidonie regarded Mr. Fenech and explained for Tenille. ‘It sometimes gets her down that everything was going so well with her dancing; the future looked promising and now …’ her voice trailed away.

‘Her dancing?’ broke in Mrs. Fenech precipitately. ‘Surely you weren’t going to take that further than just a pastime, were you dear? There are lots of other things you can do.’ She sipped from her china cup looking critically over its rim at her daughter. ‘Certainly better than being a performer – on the stage or wherever you danced. From all reports, those back street restaurants can be rather unsavory places for well brought up gels.’ She took a deep breath and squared her round body as much as she could. ‘I for one, am glad you won’t be frequenting them any more.’ She finished this declaration with firm closure of her thin lipped mouth. Obviously, that was all there was to be said on the subject.

‘Give yourself time, Tennie,’ her father advised. ‘This may not be the end, only a temporary setback, you’ll see,’ trying to alleviate her distress.

‘Would you like a cookie, Sidonie?’ Doris picked up the plate.

‘No thank you, Mrs. Fenech.’

‘Perhaps we should bring our things in from the car,’ Tenille suggested. She wanted an excuse to leave her mother’s presence. Already she could feel herself getting uptight and resentful. She did love her, but sometimes she could be so unfeeling. She had her best interests at heart, she did know that.

Sidonie took her cue and jumped up. ‘I’ll get the bags and you can show me where to take them.’ Striding purposefully to the front door she then ran lightly down the steps, jingling the car keys. On her return Tenille was standing at the foot of the stairs, looking dubious.

‘Rather a lot of them,’ Sidonie sized up. ‘Just tell me, I’ll find my way.’

‘No. I want to come with you,’ Tenille asserted. ‘I was just debating with myself if I’d use the crutches or hop.’

‘Try hopping, Ten. If you hold the banister, that should be enough for you. I’ll take your crutches up,’ she offered.

‘Okay, it’s a deal,’ she laughed, already her disposition improving. Sidonie had this effect on her. Standing on the landing, at the top of the stairs, Sidonie looked down and encouraged Tenille to give it a go.

‘You’ll do fine, Ten, it’s just that you’ve not done it before.’ She smiled sympathetically. ‘You’re suffering from fear of the unknown. Anyway, if the worst comes to the worst you can always come up on your butt,’ she reminded her. Watching the struggle to master this hurdle, she felt herself overcome by a flood tide of love. If she could, she would sprout wings and enfold her in uplifting arms, bearing her to her room and depositing her gently on the bed saying: “There, my darling, you are safe with me.” Instead, she surveyed her progress, one hop at a time, climbing laboriously to the top. She shouldn’t interfere, Tenille had to master these things. Her leg would get stronger but, right now after almost a week of complete bed rest, it tired easily. Then she couldn’t help herself, descending halfway to give her support.

‘Here Honey, lean on me. Hop when I count to three.’ Tenille pushed down on Sidonie’s arm and hauled herself up with her right hand on the rail. In this manner they reached the top, both of them a little out of breath. In these old houses the incline was steep.

‘Have a lie down. It’s been a lot for one day.’ They stood on the landing for a moment. ‘You’ll feel more refreshed for this evening, eh?’

‘Yes,’ she let out a long sigh. ‘I think that’s a good idea.’ She smiled faintly. ‘I am feeling bushed.’ Perspiration had formed a sheen on her brow; her cheeks were flushed. Crutches back in place, she turned right, hopping to the far end of the passage.

‘My room is this one. The guestroom is next to it at the very end. We have a connecting door because this used to be where the housekeeper lived and she had two rooms. Sidonie’s eyebrows rose.

‘Not in our time, silly. This is an Edwardian house. It was built for a man of modest means hence it only has two storeys.’ They entered Tenille’s room. ‘At the other end of the house are my parent’s rooms.’

‘They don’t sleep together?’ The question was out before she’d realized it.

‘No. Mother’s a light sleeper and Dad has a tendency to snore. It’s not real bad, but Mom makes a bit of a fuss over it.’

‘I see. Well, let’s get your shoe off and your leg up. It’s been down for too long. See your toes? They’re blue.’ She lifted the leg then fetched a pillow from the bed that would be hers for a few days. She was making Tenille comfortable and just about to lean over to give her a kiss when Mrs. Fenech came in to see how things were progressing. She rushed over when she saw her daughter lying down, supplanting Sidonie as she crooned: ‘You must be worn out my little lamb.’

Turning to Sidonie she instructed her peremptorily to leave her to rest. ‘Anyone can see she’s exhausted,’ she said, as though Sidonie couldn’t. Back to Tenille: ‘I’ll put your things away, Pet. I know where everything goes.’ Thus occupied, Tenille shot Sidonie a sympathetic glance before closing her eyes. Her face was ashen by this stage and the dark smudges under her eyes gave her a frail defencelessness.

Sidonie retired to her room to see to her own unpacking. ‘Mrs. Fenech doesn’t like me. I know it. Why?” she wondered. She had not, as far as she could see, done anything. She had not even been in the house more than two hours. But she knew it was true. “I’ll not give up.” Once she got to know her, she would come round. Her belongings disposed of, she decided to take Betsy to investigate the back yard. She liked gardens and one day would love to have one of her own, with the house to go with it too, of course. Running speedily down the stairs with her light, easy tread, she encountered Mr. Fenech carrying a tray of things to the kitchen.

‘Would it be OK Mr. Fenech, if Betsy and I took a look at the garden, while there’s still light?’ she asked.

‘By all means, my dear. In fact I’ll come with you. I’ll just set this down on the counter. Betsy.’ he called back through the open door. ‘Come girl, were going outside.’ She came bounding up with great eagerness, fur in a flurry, as she anticipated the treat in store.

The three of them spent a happy half hour before the gathering darkness and mosquitoes drove them in, strolling around what turned out to be an extensive area, the property stretching beyond the formal section. After the lawn a meandering path led between stately Maples, Trillium much in evidence although not in bloom this time of year. A lazy stream crossed the back of the land, its wooden bridge looking quite rickety. Mr. Fenech assured her appearances were deceptive. It had been repaired several times over the years, but all the wood was now a weathered grey.

Sidonie was impressed by the amount Mr. Fenech had accomplished. He had taken over a garden that he obviously cherished, but it was this seemingly wild and wooded section which appealed to her the most. She loved the way the path wended haphazardly amongst the trees. There were still one or two majestic Elms standing, but of course, long since dead. Clumps of Cedar and White Pine were in evidence, but the most prevalent trees were the Beeches. As they walked, their feet scuffing through a carpet of dry, russet leaves, a satisfying crunch was felt under foot. Betsy ran happily to and fro, sniffing out the strange scents and at the same time keeping tabs on everyone’s whereabouts.

Father and friend got on exceedingly well. Mr. Fenech was impressed by the quality of this girl’s questions. She struck him as a thinking, caring person who liked to look beyond the surface. Most people stopped their tour at the edge of the cultivated area and didn’t pursue beyond, believing there was nothing to be seen in the supposed ‘bush’.

‘Did your father like to garden too, Sidonie? Is that where you get your interest?’

‘Oh no. My dad skipped out when I was six, after the baby was born and anyway, we never had a garden. But I always loved the trees in the park and could spend hours, watching the squirrels getting ready for winter. Their tireless industry used to fascinate me; that and their feathery tails counter-balancing them.’ They had stopped to lean on the Cedar rail fence which separated the two properties but now turned back. Alexander called Betsy to heel.

‘I also used to make quite a bit of money in the summer vacations mowing peoples’ lawns and doing general clean-ups. I got to enjoy the different styles of garden. I was never one to be indoors for long if I could help it.’

Alexander went on to ask what kind of work she did.

‘Well, just now I’m working at the Racetrack. I took a year out from my studies to save some money. I’ve applied for a grant. I’m hoping not to have to take out a student loan. Once I graduate I’d dearly love not to have the burden of repayments round my neck?’ she added earnestly.

‘Are you interested in nursing, like Tenille, then?’

Sidonie looked horrified. ‘Not me,’ she burst out, then laughed. ‘But I do plan to nurse the sick. No, my interest is in animals. If all goes well,’ she crossed her fingers in a childish gesture, ‘I should start my first year at Guelph in September. I completed all my course prerequisites at George Brown College in Toronto, then took this break. Next semester I’ll be starting the good stuff,’ she informed him, enthusiastically, the light of youthful zeal shining from her eyes. ‘I can’t wait, only …’ she trailed off, leaving her thoughts unverbalized. She had been on the point of saying, ‘ …only it will mean parting from Ten.’ Mr. Fenech had been so companionable she’d momentarily forgotten he was her father. Sensitive enough not to pursue the matter, he moved on instead to speak about Tenille’s career. Then he patted Sidonie’s shoulder. ‘Take my advice, my dear, don’t get side-tracked into marriage until your studies are over, no matter how attractive and irresistible the young man. Then you can marry, travel … what you will. You’ll always be able to look after yourself.’

‘You sound like my Ma, Mr. Fenech. She always told me to get my priorities clearly worked out and to know the difference between a bit of fun and life-long security. You see, she had nothing. Married too young and did it the hard way, bringing up three kids on her own. I’m the eldest, so as soon as I was able to help out, I had to look after the little ones while Ma went to work. She used to work all hours … afternoons, nights. I would get our dinner together, then settle down to my homework. I wasn’t free to go out and play because of babysitting Billy and Chelsey, but it worked out OK, ’cause it resulted in good marks at school and the discipline to get me my entrance to George Brown.’

She looked across at him and saw he was still listening attentively. ‘Mam always encouraged me too. She’d ask me questions about my homework – what I was studying and that. Although she didn’t know what I was talking about, I always felt the sincerity of her interest.’

‘And how does your mother manage now?’ Alexander asked. This was a life story he was not in the habit of encountering in his world.

‘It’s easier for her now. The youngest is thirteen. She’s got a Government house, so less money goes on rent. Also, I earn pretty good, so I can send her something every two weeks.’

‘That’s excellent, Sidonie,’ he admired. ‘I can see you’re a very capable young lady.’

‘I’d like to be able to accept your good words, Mr. Fenech, but I have to admit, I’m living in subsidized rental, so I only have to pay $50:00 a week. Yes, it’s all worked out very well for me,’ she acknowledged with satisfaction. ‘But I don’t take my position in life for granted. I know I could’ve come under the influence of timewasters and joy riders. I’ve heard of other girls from my neighborhood who’ve fallen out with their families and now are on the streets, relying on their peers for support. The lifestyle is a hard and bitter one. There seems little to look forward to in their future except more of the same or perhaps worse.’

As the end of the day drew near, the last exchanges of the Redwings began to fill the air. The twilight softened the features of Sidonie’s face and Alexander noticed the contrasting brilliance of her eyes with the warm, sun bronzed tones of her skin. “She really is a striking looking young woman,” he thought. At first glance one would dismiss her, but there were depths here which one could spend considerable time exploring. “Yes,” he mused, “a very good companion for my little girl. Despite her youth she has experienced life in a way quite beyond Tennie’s limited exposure. I like her a lot,” he acknowledged to himself. He hoped the two of them would develop a firm friendship. He knew Tenille needed someone in her life with whom she could share.

As they approached the back door, the scent of Lime trees filled the mild evening air. Alexander sneezed. ‘I love the fragrance, but I’m afraid it’s no good for my sinuses.’ He got out his handkerchief. ‘But I wouldn’t have the trees cut down … never.’ he ended emphatically.

The kitchen was a hive of activity on their return, mother and daughter busy with dinner preparations and the smell of the lime flowers was replaced by the mouth watering aroma of pork chops, simmering in an orange sauce. Doris continued on about her tasks, but Tenille stopped her chore of peeling apples for the pie and greeted her two favorite people with a warm smile. Betsy had to remain in her special area, a covered-in space just outside the back door, until invited. The kitchen was definitely out of bounds at meal time.

‘Where’ve you two been? Was dad showing you the garden?’ She turned toward Sidonie on this last, her eyes sparkling.

‘Yes …’ he replied, as he took a seat at the table, ‘ …and she liked the wild part too.’

‘I’m surprised to see you up already Ten,’ Sidonie smiled back as she stood to the side of her chair and looked down, noticing how shiny her hair was now. She wanted to reach out and touch it, but not here. ‘So soon out of hospital it could be a good idea to get an early night tonight.’ Tenille was still looking up at her and simply nodded her agreement.

Sidonie turned to Mrs. Fenech. ‘Is there anything I can do to help? I’m good at laying tables and fetching and carrying.’

‘Oh, are you a waitress then?’ Doris asked derisively, thinking this would be just the sort of work she’d expect from someone like her. A shocked silence hung in the room. All eyes turned to Doris at the kitchen sink where she was washing and slicing string beans. At last Tenille broke into the amazement with: ‘No Mom.’ Her voice had a longsuffering tone. ‘Sidonie is a very helpful person, that’s all,’ forced to her defence. Really, sometimes she could be too much. ‘She’s quite a good cook too,’ she endorsed: ‘Once you pin her down,’ she amended truthfully. She was hoping to take the sting out of her mother’s words. She’d noticed how her dad had squirmed. Sidonie said nothing, taking a seat at the table, feeling it best to leave well enough alone.

Doris, to defuse the tension, decided to play the gracious host. “Really, so much fuss over nothing.” She declined Sidonie’s offer and suggested instead her husband open the bar.

‘Good idea,’ he responded cordially, relieved to have the moment over and something to do. ‘What can I offer you,’ he enquired amiably of Sidonie. She looked a little taken aback, not knowing quite what to say. She was used to being offered a beer, but in this household her confidence was slipping and she wasn’t sure if she should be asking for some sort of cocktail. Open the bar?

Tenille came to her rescue again. ‘Sid likes light beer Dad. Old Vienna if you’ve got it.’ She looked inquiringly across to see if she had the right one.

‘Yes, that’s my brew, otherwise any one will do.’ She smiled her thanks. She would give Mrs. Fenech the benefit of the doubt. Anyway, there was nothing wrong with waitressing. She had in fact done a stint of it, when she’d been anxious to complete her car payments. It was just the way Mrs. Fenech had said it.

‘Sorry Sidonie. Will Labbatts Blue do you for now? I’ll pop to the beer store tomorrow. I’ve got a load of empties to return, anyway.’

‘No problem, Labbatts is fine. I don’t want to put you to any trouble,’ she said disarmingly.

‘It’s no trouble, I pass right by it. Now Tennie,’ he turned his attention to his daughter: ‘What do you fancy tonight? Your first evening home, the sky’s the limit.’

She could see her dad’s excitement. He enjoyed being bartender. It was something his wife didn’t complain about, so he could do it without censure.

‘I’m on medication Dad, so I’ll just have a mineral water, thanks.’

‘Listen, I’ve got a non-alcoholic Lemon, Lime and Bitters here. Why don’t you try that?’

‘All right. You twisted my arm,’ she acquiesced readily.

‘Good. Usual sherry for you, Doris?’ Alexander turned to his wife who didn’t look back, but merely shook her head saying: ‘I think I’ll have a Dubonnet tonight.’

After Mr. Fenech went to attend to drinks, Sidonie asked Tenille how she was feeling.

‘Quite well Sid. I stayed down as long as I was able, but then I began to get restless. Hearing mom in the kitchen, I decided to join her. I had a leisurely bath too, hanging my leg over the side. It worked very well.’ She turned and looked at her mother then back to Sidonie. ‘Mom was just catching me up on the local gossip – are these enough apples?’ She held out the bowl, but Doris couldn’t see inside.

‘I’ll take it over,’ Sidonie stated.

When Doris looked again, she decided that was ample. Soon the pie was in the oven. ‘Lets join Dad in the living room. Everything’s under control here.’

Alexander was setting the drinks tray on the coffee table. ‘Good timing, everybody.’ They settled in, choosing the same places as earlier in the day.

‘What do you like to drink, Mr. Fenech?’ Sidonie inquired.

‘I’m a Rye and 7-Up man myself. It’s usually Seagram’s.’ The conversation continued, mostly around Tenille’s accident and its aftermath. ‘So what will you do about your dancing now?’ Alexander asked with concern. ‘You never said when we talked earlier; just left it in the air.’

‘Well Dad, I think I have to get my head around the fact that it’s probably at an end … at least the performance side of it. I thought at first I’d get right back. Now I know I have a lengthy rehabilitation period, which means Los Flamencos will replace me. And where would I find another group like them?’ Tenille’s voice faltered and one side of her mouth began to tremble. Sidonie reached out her hand and gave a gentle squeeze. It was hard to watch her so tormented; having to come to terms with the realization there would be no future for this particular dream.

‘Listen Tennie. We went through this before,’ Doris said, with thinly disguised impatience. ‘You were being unrealistic to think that dancing could be a foundation stone for your career.’ She saw her daughter’s face begin to crumple. ‘You know I’m thinking only of you, Tennie, but you’ve got to find something more practical.’ Her voice became more assertive. ‘This dreaming of fame and fortune through dance … at your age,’ she added waspishly, ‘just can’t work.’ She took a sip from her glass and a new tack. ‘Why don’t you go back to your nursing studies? You were doing so well.’

‘I would be a qualified nurse, now,’ she stated with heavy emphasis. Her ire was up. ‘If you hadn’t persuaded me it wasn’t necessary to continue, then I’d have something worthwhile to help me live independently … and comfortably,’ she added bitterly. ‘But no. You were so sure I need only snare a rich husband.’ Her voice had risen in her distress, regret for the past spilling out.

‘It wasn’t my fault,’ Doris retorted in her defence. ‘You could have continued.’

‘How could I? Between you and Jerred, I thought I was doing the right thing. And look at me now. No skills; no job prospects; one leg in a cast, hopping around on crutches.’ Tenille’s voice cracked as she ended on a sob.

‘There there, my dear,’ her dad tried to console her. ‘Don’t distress yourself. Something will turn up, you’ll see.’

Tenille’s retort was vehement: ‘Nothing will turn up Dad. Stop fooling yourself … and me.’ She spoke from a hopeless perspective, adding cruelly: ‘It’s time you took your head out of the sand.’ Alexander remained quiet, the silence becoming heavy and drawn out. Doris judged it expedient to put dinner on the table, indicating such to her husband who rose and followed her. They didn’t speak, only moving around each other, he laying the table in the dining room, she bringing out the meat and vegetable dishes. The girls joined them.

‘Please serve yourself,’ Doris indicated the silver utensils to Sidonie. Feeling most uncomfortable at being witness to this family conflict, she began the process then passed the bowls to Mr. Fenech. He passed them on to Tenille, but she couldn’t eat a thing. A lump was sitting inside her chest, threatening to choke the back of her throat. Once her mother had served herself, she said grace. The silence resumed.

‘I can’t eat this.’

Tenille pushed the plate away, her expression grim, face blotchy. A frown creased her forehead into deep furrows. ‘I guess I’m overtired. Excuse me everyone. I’m going to my room.’ She stood and reached for the crutches. Sidonie, looking on sympathetically, made no move to assist, feeling it judicious to let her exit under her own steam; cloaking herself with as much dignity as she could muster. Alexander on the other hand, jumped up knocking his chair over in his clumsy haste to reach her side.

She turned, giving him a cold stare. ‘I can manage on my own,’ she stated icily, the look daring him to lay a hand on her. He backed off in confusion, setting himself to righting the chair and regaining his own composure. Doris sat impassive, but very angry inside at her daughter’s resistance. There had been a battle of wills … she had lost. One last rallying charge, perhaps?

‘Tenille, you need to eat. Stop this nonsense.’

She was at the door now, the look on her face one Sidonie had not seen before; mouth hard set, jaw clenched and her usually soft and beguiling eyes, narrowed into a steely hardness against her mother. Respect for her grew. About to speak, instead she turned back to the hallway and headed towards the staircase, leaving behind a setting of wax images, ready to partake of a late supper. No one had moved, only staring after her disappearing figure, knife and fork in hand. A door closed after what seemed a long time, not with a loud bang, but a quiet firmness. A collective release of breath from the three remaining at the table signalled the end of tension and Alexander offered to refill Sidonie’s glass.

‘Thank you,’ she accepted. There was more than enough wine, but she couldn’t deny this man his attempt to head them back to normalcy. Doris resumed her meal. She wouldn’t try to explain things; she may never see this person again. Alexander had not offered his wife more wine, she only ever drank one glass. Returning to his seat he asked if she still wanted to invite Tarquam and Eron for dinner tomorrow. They were a young Irish couple, friends of Tenille’s with whom she liked to keep in touch.

‘Oh yes. I don’t see that Tennie will stay like this all day. You know what she’s like – up and down.’ Her dismissal of the severity of their argument implied Tenille was just being juvenile.

The meal drew to a dismal close, Alexander making all the effort to preserve a semblance of social entertaining; Sidonie doing her best to respond appropriately and give him support. Doris was no help. What a relief when it was over and she could help clear away.

‘Can I lend a hand with the washing up?’ she asked vaguely, to no one in particular.

‘Oh thank you, my dear.’ It was Alexander who answered. ‘I give Doris a break when she entertains. She doesn’t like to leave dishes overnight.’

They seemed to be at it for a very long time. Mrs. Fenech must have used everything in her cupboards, Sidonie thought. Still, she didn’t mind. She preferred to have something to do; better than trying to make polite conversation. With the last bowl and plate returned to their appropriate places, she informed Mr. Fenech that she, too, would call it a day.

‘My morning starts at five, so an early night suits me very well,’ she explained.

‘Five o’clock. Good heavens, that is early,’ he observed. ‘Not a drama. We’ll just go into Doris and let her know.’ She was reading a magazine while watching television.

‘Yes of course, this has been a long day for you,’ she responded graciously. ‘Do you want to be awakened tomorrow, or shall I just leave you to get up when you’re ready?’

“She never uses my name,” she thought. ‘Oh, I’ll get up myself. I’m quite an early riser. Please continue with your day as usual, I’ll try to fit into your routine.’ She expressed her desire to be of no trouble, which Doris accepted as completely right and proper. She left them downstairs talking quietly, probably about Tenille’s future and took a leisurely shower. It was, in fact, only a little after nine and this for her was not late at all.

It was a bewitching night, mild and gentle. The sky here in the country had an inky blackness, the stars standing out in stark brilliance; so different from the city. The air was heavy with the scent of roses and the small white flowers of Chinese Jasmine added their delicate and evocative fragrance to the beauty of the night. Somewhere in the distance a lonely owl hooted. Clean and feeling refreshed, she decided to look in on Tenille. She could be awake and needing something. She slipped into midnight blue, cotton PJs with little gold stars dotted across the shorts; a gift from Karen last Christmas which she’d never worn.

‘Ten,’ she called softly: ‘Are you awake?’

‘Yes Sid,’ Tenille’s voice returned in a whisper, as she took a deep breath, trying to calm the sudden, erratic beating of her heart.

Sidonie padded over to the bedside. ‘Ten,’ she breathed as she sank gently onto the bed.

She swung around to face her, her body aroused to a trembling longing, as she threw off the confining sheet and turned on her side.

‘My darling,’ Sid breathed again, leaning forward to kiss the rounded top of her exposed shoulder. The night was mild, but the temperature had dropped considerably from the daytime high and Tenille had felt the difference. Now, with Sidonie’s presence so close, so insistently exciting, the heat rose within her. She had that lovely, straight from the shower smell and her skin glowed pallidly in the bright moonlight, passing easily through the floral drapes at the large window.

‘Sid, I wondered if you’d come say goodnight to me. I’m so glad you’re here.’ She lifted her arm from the covers to encircle Sid’s neck. As she drew her face towards her, she felt the heat centre in her clitoris and was amazed at the feeling of tightness. It gave her whole body a delicious wanting which translated into a need to pull her down on top of her; to feel the weight of her virile body press down on her, press against her breasts, her stomach and against her tumescence.

“Smother me.” she thought, hungrily.

Sid looked into the flushed face before her, glowing with life. The intensity of her gaze held her, causing the heat of her own desire to stain her cheeks. She saw the mouth open slightly, the lips soft and moist; felt the sweet breath brushing lightly across her face. She sank once more into the depths of Ten’s black lashed, glistening eyes. Her stomach contracted. She saw all the signs of readiness in this woman. Her woman. Filled with desire for her. It was heady stuff and made her senses tumble. Ten was breathtaking in her beauty. She wanted her in this moment as she’d never wanted her, or anyone, ever before. She could drown in her juices, licking, stroking, probing until their bodies, entwined and locked in ecstatic passion, would experience those ultimate orgasmic thrills which belonged to loving Lesbians everywhere.

She drew back. Not here. This was the time but not the place, caught as they were, in the bondage of convention. She cut off her dangerous designs, shaking her head in an effort to clear her thoughts, her throat constricted.

‘I couldn’t go to sleep without saying goodnight. Are you dreadfully hungry?’ her voice was rough. She ran her tongue across suddenly dry lips. She hoped talk of mundane matters would help cool her ardor. She needed something to take her mind off her consuming desires, to give her all the pleasures of the Universe since time immemorial, locked within our animal bodies, waiting only to be released through the magic of love.

Ten lifted questioning eyes, dark with desire, her gaze boring into the very depths of Sid’s soul. In a voice deep and husky, she replied: ‘I’m hungry for you.’ She turned her face so her mouth could not be avoided, her whole demeanor an open invitation to be kissed, loved, taken and possessed.

‘Darling Ten,’ Sid’s voice came out gravely and choked with emotion, fighting for control: ‘It’s been a long day. You need to rest. Sleep is very important in your recovery,’ she reasoned. Hands shaking, she trembled inside as she covered the curvaceous body with the sheet. Her heart beat at an excessive rate, so conscious was she of Ten’s sensuous presence, observing erect nipples as the full breasts strained against the confining pressure of the thin cotton nightdress, the surrounding aureoles flushed and dark.

Blood pounded in her head and her pulses throbbed. Her whole body was swept up into an overpowering wanting. She felt she would burn to cinders in her hunger.

‘I’ll see you in the morning,’ she said thickly. ‘I’ll take you for a nice drive.’ To her own ears her words sounded trivial, but she could think of nothing else. Her passion was consuming her; making her ache in every curve of her body and her control was too close to the edge. She would lose it if she didn’t back off.

Ten turned her face away feeling confused and unhappy. Her body was filled with yearning for this girl, and Sid was not responding. She just wanted to be held. Just that. Nothing more. Surely she could give her that, couldn’t she? She wouldn’t ask for more. She felt helpless tears rushing to the surface and tried to blink them away. Sid did not feel for her as she did. She had made a big mistake.

She rolled away toward the window. Sid saw a tear squeeze out and sparkle in the moonlight. This change in Ten cut deeply, but there was nothing she could do. Not here. Not in her parent’s house. If they’d been at the apartment … But as it was … She turned away, heading back to the guest room saying only: ’til tomorrow, then.’ Tenille did not reply, just continued to stare at the gently moving drapes, responding to the soft night breeze. The door clicked shut.

She listened to the anonymous rustle of night sounds; heard her father locking up and her mother completing her ritual ablutions. She’d hated the argument, but this time she’d not been prepared to bow down. She wanted very much to get along with her mother, as she did with her father, but her demands were too much. At least, they were now. If she were not to disappear totally into Doris’s persona, then she needed to make her stand. Predictably, doing so provoked sparks of discord. Obduracy was not in her nature and she suffered for it.

After a few moments she appreciated the fact the house was silent. Thinking over her last words with Sidonie brought to mind how her eyes had burned into hers, the expression at the time, unfathomable. Once again, she experienced that disturbing ache between her legs and felt a sharp spasm of desire as she momentarily recalled her breasts in contact with those firm, finely tipped nipples. Her breasts were so different from her own – small and pointed, youthfully high. She had never touched her lips to their softness, but what a longing she had inside. She could feel herself melting at the thought. Would she ever be able to tell Sidonie how the touch of her mouth fired her body with such delicious sensations? Would she think her a simpleton, unsophisticated? This degree of sexual arousal, so newly experienced, begged her to hold her close; wrap herself around ’til they were fused as one. She wanted to get lost in her embrace, to allow her to do whatever she liked. She wanted to tell her she would do anything, be anyway, just so long as it pleased her.

She held her thoughts still, endeavoring to come to grips with her inner feelings, fearful of the tack onto which they had veered. Her heart quickened. Despite her mind’s resolve, almost as though someone else had taken over, she felt her body raise itself from the bed. The sound of her pounding heart filled her ears and she could feel her cheeks burning. Was she really going to act out what she’d been thinking? She reached for her crutches, picking them up and placing them with care, too fearful of making strange sounds which would echo through the night, awakening the house.

She hopped noiselessly over the deep pile of the carpet to the adjoining door. Quietly, very slowly turning the knob, she peered in. Dimly discerning a sleeping form under the sheet, she propped the crutches against the wall and as silently, closed the door. Frustrated by the presence of the cast, she reached the bedside, palms sweaty, blood pounding in her head. She looked down at the girl.

Something made Sidonie stir and turn onto her back. Her eyes looked up, wide and staring, not quite focused on the woman before her. Then, as she moved, a fine shaft of moonlight poured between the drapes and slanted across the face, the delicate light reaching out to touch the stark need which had been unleashed. She could see into the tortured depths of Ten’s pleading black eyes, made more profound by the paleness of her skin, from which all color had been leached. She knew exactly why she had come; the desire was unmistakable, spilling out of those passion filled eyes.

Taking in a quick, sharp breath, she threw back the covering, rising to her knees in one fluid movement. She reached out and drew Ten down onto the bed to sit on its edge. She cradled her from behind, still on her knees, but now resting back on her heels. Ten, supported like this relaxed against her and let her head come to rest.

Sid whispered in her ear: ‘So you couldn’t sleep either?’

She said nothing, just shook her head. She began to caress Sid’s soft, burnished hair. In this ethereal light it was like a cap of spun silver, sending out finest threads of tinsel as she moved. Instinctively, her fingers entwined within the glimmering strands.

She slid both her arms around Ten, below her breasts and pulled herself in closer to her back. She was left breathless. Sid’s nearness, the heat of her embrace, set her pulses racing and filled her with tormented desire. The touch of her hands sent shock waves through her as their bodies were wrapped together in the darkness. Sid felt the electricity of this woman’s excitement shuddering through her, as she began to stroke upward with her right hand, under the curve of her left breast. At the first touch across her nipple Ten inhaled a short gasp of air. Immediately Sid’s left arm tightened so she felt her whole body within the confines of an animal power beyond herself, not menacing and dangerous, but wild and thrilling.

She loved it … this all-encompassing restriction, this intoxicating dominance, imprisoned in the grip of this girl who desired her. Of this there was no further doubt. She could feel the hard, pounding heartbeat at her back, the hot breath on her neck as soft lips hungrily explored her. Her own blood ran hot as tumultuous sensations of infinite pleasure overcame her. Sighing and moaning, Sid’s hands continued to move and caress, fingers tracing a tingling path of ardent fire. Her flimsy night shift may hide from sight, but the gossamer fabric could not disguise the taut erectness of those deeply flushed nipples, filling Sid with dizzying desire, as each breast swelled eagerly into her palm. She felt her own breasts respond, making her move rhythmically against the hot back.

The heavy roundness of Ten’s breasts, as she let them slip down, out of her grasp, brought her to a point where she could no longer wait. Her own throbbing tumescence demanded attention … but she took deep breaths and regained her self-control.

“Don’t rush it,” she advised. “Savor every delicious moment of this time together.” A tight band seemed to be restricting her chest as her heart spasmed in its beat. She breathed again, holding Ten securely once more as she slid her hand gently over the satiny skin of her belly, then stopped at the silky triangle. Slipping under the hem, she let her fingers play with the dark pubic hair. Ten felt the spurt of her wetness and longed to spread her legs, to give Sid easy access to her desire, but her limbs were caught between firm thighs and she could only groan, helplessly.

‘Darling Sid,’ she gasped out, ‘I want to lie with you tonight.’ Her words were no more than a breathed caress against her cheek. In response Sid began to kiss her neck and the curve of her throat, then quoted in low tones: “Come lie with me and be my love.”

Ten lay back against the pillows and she brought herself to lie full length on top of her. “What joy at last,” Ten thought, experiencing the coiling of Sid’s muscles above her. She had positioned herself such that the nub of her clitoris pressed against Ten’s. She knew she was ready for more, but she kept her movements slow and gentle, her pressure light but sure. Then they began to kiss … soft exploring kisses; lips full, hot and wet, the saliva passing between them. When Ten’s lips softened beneath hers, she drove her tongue deep within her mouth, touching everywhere in blatant demand. Passion rose between them and Sid’s thrusts became more definite. At each exquisite pressure, Ten thought her climax would come through. Her mind’s eye pictured Sid as she had last seen her undressed, her ass covered in white ‘jockey for her’ underpants and her strong thighs, thick as tree trunks, above sturdy legs … now here she was, riding her, her need overflowing into her. She loved this girl with all her being. Her life was empty when she was not near. She deliberately began to slow herself down. A film of perspiration dampened her brow. She would wait ’til Sid was ready to give her what she knew she would. Meanwhile, she would pleasure her to the limit. Let her feel how much she meant to her. How filled with love she was.

Sliding her hands down the muscles of Sid’s back, they came to rest on the rise of her tight ass. She stroked over the hard firmness, feeling the muscles working as she moved over her. She molded her hands to the tops of her thighs. Little by little, she worked back up to the deep cleft and slid her fingers between the curves until she found the hard, round opening. In time with Sid’s thrusts, she too pushed … extra pressure, no entry at this time, only the pleasure of contact. Sid could hold back no longer. With Ten’s hand still in place, she moved herself over onto her right thigh.

‘Sorry Babe,’ she muttered thickly, ‘you make it so’s I can’t wait.’

‘I don’t want you to wait. I want you to come like this,’ Ten responded between breathless gasps, ‘and I want my hand to be covered in your cum when you do.’

That was too much. Sid had to let go, her body set aflame as Ten’s hand slid forward towards the throbbing centre of her desire. Now the rising heat of her orgasm shattered into its final explosion of a thousand stars. She clenched her teeth and uttered no sound. Only rasping breaths could be heard, as wave after wave of almost unendurable ecstasy wracked through her body in great shudders and tears welled up, impossible to stop, flowing out from her very soul and bringing with them the love that was dearest to her heart. Eventually her movements slowed, the urgency replaced by a languorous deliverance. But Ten maintained her caresses, still connecting their senses and the climax continued to resonate ’til she was completely spent. At last she lay still, would have rolled away, but Ten kept her held.

They exchanged soft kisses and deep looks filled with love, those blue eyes touching her everywhere.

‘Now I will make you feel as good as you made me,’ she promised, smiling with happiness as her eyes continued to probe. It was as though their lovemaking had no beginning and no end, only the flowing tide of their emotions, passing one to the other. She moved over, lying against Ten’s right side and began to kiss her with greater insistency.

Sometimes her mouth felt hard against her teeth and her tongue, no longer soft and caressing, was flicking and pointed. This was like a different Sid. Not warm and gentle … a little threatening even. Jerred flashed into her mind and was gone. She was not feeling fearful, no … intensely excited. She had thought she didn’t like hardness. What was happening to her? But her love gave her trust and she pushed away that moment of doubt.

Sid began to slide her body downward until she captured a nipple with her mouth, through the fabric. Ten squirmed, but the mouth was gentle, searching, evoking fierce shivers of erotic pleasure. She lifted up the shift to release her breasts and Ten gasped as they sprang free, their voluptuous fullness exposed to Sid’s greedy gaze; their mute invitation letting her know they were hers for the taking … and she did. Her tongue slid around and over and over each pointed bud as they continued to become engorged and enlarged. Ten felt her arousal to be almost beyond bearing, in this sensual indulgence of skin against skin.

‘NOW, my darling,’ she cried out in desperation.

Sid let her fingers glide between the slippery wetness of Ten’s lips, swollen and hot. She went slowly, she would dictate the pace and not be rushed by her woman’s passion. She felt the small bud rise and grow with tumescence as she circled around with the softest of touches, its hardness making it stand out from the guarding folds of hot, protective flesh. Ten let out deep sighs at this beautiful touch. She continued to stroke her, moving her mouth to the other breast, bringing it to a peak of excitement with her insistent, teasing tongue, enticing it to strain toward the source of pleasure, all the while spiralling the clitoral tempo inexorably toward that final, ecstatic release.

Lying there, abandoned to her lover, melting in the glorious sensations of lingering, exquisite pleasure, Ten knew there was no other reality but this. There was no stopping, only the headlong rush to the ultimate explosion. She wanted to cry out, but suddenly Sid’s hand was across her mouth. Her climax burst forth nonetheless, filling her, shaking her, ’til she could feel nothing more than her overwhelming love.

Sid moved on top of her again, pressing down along her full length. Ten could feel the renewed excitement in her lover, transmitted from her orgasm and the flame of her own desire was again rekindled.

‘Dearest heart,’ breathed Sid against her throat.

Ten could not resist moving her pelvis and matching their rhythms. A second climax was building as Sid continued to grind against her growing hardness. She moved tantalizingly slowly, but she stayed with her, close and bonded in this ritual of mating.

“This can’t be possible,” Ten thought to herself: “A second.” It was all too beautiful … and Sid so wonderful.

They lost themselves in a long, profound kiss, their arousal coming together on another level, rising to the ultimate in sexual pleasure with climactic bursts of such intensity, mingling their juices in abandoned reverberations of love. They held each other in tight embrace, experiencing transcendent transports of ecstasy, their bodies locked together in orgasmic spasms. They were as one, in love and united; bonded in primeval rapture.

At last, completely satisfied and happy, they slept, their slumbers sweet and replenishing after all the trauma and trials they had been through. The revivification of deep and untroubled sleep gave them the hours of physical rest their bodies craved. How they had needed this beneficent and bountiful expression of their love; the opportunity so long denied. This conjugation had given form to the depth of their feeling; a self-expression most gloriously entered into.

*   *   *

Tenille stirred, hearing her mother’s voice: ‘I’ve brought you breakfast in bed, Tennie.’

She stiffened, her heart suddenly banded in iron, heavy and cold, as she realized the significance of the situation. Her mother must be in the next room. “She’ll know I’m not in the bathroom,” she thought. What to do? This was awful. She clamped down on her panic. Sidonie still slept. Could she get out of bed and pretend to be visiting? But her crutches were over there. Damn this leg. “Sweet Mother of all, what shall I do?” she agonized.

The decision was taken from her as Doris appeared in the doorway, her gaze steely, lips firm, looking at her daughter.

‘What is the meaning of this?’ she demanded in tense, furious tones. Sidonie stirred and was instantly awake. “Goddess Sophia.” she came round fast. “We’ve slept the night away.” She reached out for her watch on the night table. It was a quarter to eight. Then she too, sat up and looked uneasily at Mrs. Fenech, experiencing a sudden surge of prescient foreboding. Fortunately they were both still wearing their night attire so at least they were not naked in front of her, but in bed was bad enough.

Tenille found her voice as she ran nervous fingers through her hair, but only to say: ‘Mom.’ Throat dry and constricted, she was filled with shameful humiliation under that stony stare. Her mother’s eyes never wavered from her daughter’s face.

‘I will see you downstairs,’ she commanded, then turned to the perpetrator of this monstrous affair. It would be she who was the instigator in all this. No doubt about that.

‘Young lady. I’ll thank you to pack your bags and leave this house – this morning.’ She wasn’t sure she could bring herself to address this person another moment but, thank God, she knew how to behave. ‘Mr. Fenech and I appreciate your driving our daughter home, but we need detain you no longer.’ With that she turned and left the room.

*   *   *

LETTER FROM DORIS TO CARMEL.

#27, Maple St.,

Lindsay, Ontario.

Sun. July 21st.

Dear Carmel,

It’s been an age since we were in touch. I miss the long chats we used to have. Still, it’s good to have a chance to sit and write you. Tennie’s been here four days now and is recuperating very well. I think the quiet pace of life is good for her, although she’s still looking rather pale. But then, she doesn’t go out much. It’s hard with the crutches anyway.

I’d been looking forward to having this time with her but it’s not worked out as I’d hoped. Do you remember, Carmel, how she used to chat away? She was such a sunny child. Now it’s all different. We don’t have those lovely heart to hearts we used to enjoy so much.

One of the reasons she’s been so quiet is because I had to send her friend away. I’ve been unable to bring myself to mention this to anyone, but I feel I can discuss it with you, you’ll understand. It was like this.

The very first morning of Tennie’s stay here, I caught her in bed with that creature. I should have guessed when I first set eyes on her. She’s not our sort and completely unsuitable as a friend for my little girl. Anyway, I’d decided to take her breakfast up to her and, after I got no answer opened her bedroom door, only to find the bed was empty. I knew she wasn’t in the bathroom since Alex was there. I thought then she’d gone next door to chat with her friend and when I went to that room … well, there they were. I can tell you, I was horrified. To think poor little Tennie was being corrupted by such a woman. I’ve always protected her from the wicked ways of the world and then I discover this, under my very roof.

Well Mel, you can imagine, my indignation knew no bounds and I ordered that tramp to leave immediately. She didn’t give me any trouble, I was thankful for that. Mind you, any cheek from her and she would have heard the sharp edge of my tongue. After she’d gone, I sought out Tennie and found her sitting under our big Maple, at the back. ‘We’ll, what do you have to say for yourself?’ I asked her. She didn’t say anything, Mel, just continued to stare at the ground. ‘Answer me,’ I demanded of her. At that she looked up and I saw a spark of defiance in her eyes and her words confirmed it. Do you know, Sis, she had the nerve to say to me, ‘I love her.’ Can you imagine, just like that. So belligerent.

‘You don’t know what you’re saying,’ I told her. ‘She caught you at a weak moment and has worked her evil influences on you.’ Mel, my feelings were running so strong, it was all I could do to control my voice and prevent it from becoming strident. I was that mad about the whole thing. A daughter of mine behaving in such a disgusting and unnatural way. She looked upset, but not repentant. Upset at being caught I suppose. Anyway, I continued trying to find excuses. I told her she was vulnerable after her accident and everything; probably didn’t know what she was doing. I did feel that removing her from that perverted influence would help her to see straight. I said: ‘Stop this nonsense Tenille and come to your senses.’ I was furious, I can tell you, but she just continued to sit and stare. I expected her to throw herself into my arms and beg for my forgiveness. I would have given it to her too, Mel. I was ready to help her back to the righteous path; welcome her back to the fold, but she showed no remorse – oh, except to say she was sorry I’d seen them like that, but not that she regretted being there, you know, in bed with a woman. I know she wasn’t there just for sleeping. I could tell how they were. It was disgusting and offensive.

I’ve not told her father. He would be so distressed to think a daughter of his could behave in such a depraved manner. I can’t imagine where Tennie’s self respect could have gone, to let herself get involved with someone like that. Her other girl friends were never like this one. I’ll grant you she has a striking appearance, the most intense blue eyes you can imagine, but no class whatsoever. I knew I didn’t like her when first we met. Right from the beginning she seemed to have an unnatural power over Tennie. I could sense something between them, although I was unable to put my finger on it. Of course, now I know it was this deviate influence that she was practising on my innocent.

The upshot of all this, however, is that Tennie keeps pretty much to herself. She doesn’t go visiting with me any more and sometimes it’s like I don’t have my daughter home at all. She reads a lot. To tell you the truth, we’re a sad household just now. I don’t feel at all well and I’m not sleeping nights. I don’t know if Alex suspects anything. He’s not mentioned that girl’s leaving, but you know how he is, never one to really express himself and he’d run a mile before he’d confront any issue. I could never count on him for active support. Generally he won’t openly oppose, but that’s not much help either, is it?

Well Carmel, this has brought you up to date on our sad state of affairs here. I hope you and Roger are well and still enjoying your new house. Do write soon. I need to know what you think about all this, although I’m sure it’s just a temporary aberration and Tenille will come to her senses.

Much love to you both,

Doris.

LETTER FROM TENILLE TO SIDONIE.

#27, Maple St.,

Lindsay, Ontario.

Tues. July 23rd.

My darling Sid,

How are you my love? I have to tell you, I am so torn apart over all this business. Your having to leave like that wrenched at my heart. To be separated so cruelly, I felt I would die. It’s hard to act normally with everyone when all I want is to be with you.

Darling, I have been thinking and I know I can never live without your loving. I’m only half-alive when we’re apart. I want to be with you all the time. I am sure now, that I want to spend the rest of my life with you and I want, with all my heart, to give you happiness and to have you love me. This sad business has made me realize, more clearly than anything previously, that you, Sid, are my heart’s desire and the love of my life. Nothing and no one can change my mind or heart on this.

Please tell me your feelings have not changed toward me. I know mother behaved insufferably. She can be very intolerant and dictatorial. But Sid, it’s more because of her feelings for me than against you. I’m sure this is the way of it. I know it must be hard for you, but please try not to take her dismissal personally. I’m desperate that you know all this hasn’t turned me against you. Sid, I could say nothing that day you left and I know how miserable you must have been. But believe me, whatever my mother tries to do or say, (she’s forbidden me to ever see you again). she won’t be successful in changing my feelings for you.

Since we can’t talk on the phone, (Mom would never let your call through), will you write me, care of my friend Kirstie, I’ll include her address with this. Kirstie is a very old friend. She’ll bring your letters to me.

Actually, darling, I had wanted to write this sooner, but had no way of posting it before. This will be my first chance. We have a mailbox at the end of the street. When mom goes out, I’ll hop down to it. It’s quite a long distance, but I consider every step worth the effort.

You know, it’s hard for me to say goodbye Sid, and this is true even in a letter. As I write, I feel so much closer to you and I hate to have to break the contact. Anyway, I regret I’ve had to wait so long to get this to you, but I have a chance to be out on my own this afternoon.

I love you, my dearest, darlingest Sid, with all my heart.

Your Tenille.

PS. One day can we be together properly?

PPS. I wrote this poem for you, with my love.

People must be somewhere,

This I know.

Yet, when here I am alone,

My spirit brought so low,

Why is it you are there?

The sun that warms the earth,

Disdainful, in its course above,

To bring us our sustaining weather,

Shines alike on you,

But not on both of us together.

One look into those eyes

Whose glances, my heart pierce,

It’s hard to minimize

A yearning that’s this fierce.

The moon rides the night sky.

In the heavens I see the stars,

But on you they do not shine.

So when I gaze, I sigh.

For those you see, aren’t mine.

How can I stand such torment?

The pain of separation?

To be with you is all I ask.

Not this total desolation.

If only I could place my lips to yours.

Could feel the beating of your heart.

Could press you close against my breast,

No more to be apart …

Ah then, my Love,

Then would I be at rest.

LETTER FROM SIDONIE TO TENILLE.

Woodbine Racetrack.

Rexdale, Ontario.

Thurs. July 25th.

Hi Babe,

Your letter gave me so much happiness, you can’t imagine. (And your poem transported me to raptures). You’re right, I returned home that day never having felt more miserable in my life. I was a whole bundle of feelings on many different levels. It hurt having to obey your mother with dumb obedience, but I felt I couldn’t say anything in my defence. I didn’t want to risk making things worse for you. I understand when there’s only one child in the family, the parents take it much harder. You’re the sole object of her apprehension and as such, receive the full force of her anger and disappointment.

I could see how distressed you were. I wanted to roll up into a small ball. Believe me, my love, it tore at the very centre of my being, to have to leave like that, unable to comfort you and yes … make a sincere vow at that moment that something like this would never happen to us again. One day we will be together properly, as you put it. We will look for a place of our own. Not to be dependent on renting a room somewhere. That’s not good enough for you. I want the best and if I can’t afford it now … after graduation, when I go into private practice, I’ll be able to give you all the things you’ve ever dreamed of. I swear it.

After leaving you I drove straight back to the Residence. I hardly remember the journey. I was so miserable and could think only of that dreadful moment when your mother walked in and we were both immobilized. Frozen in horror was more like it. I felt so bad, not for myself, but for you. I knew instinctively what your mom’s reaction would be and I knew you’d recoil from the severity of her censure. (Although I have to admit, I had no idea of the strength of her religious beliefs at the time. I’d not heard much of that side of her nature from you before, or at least had not taken in the significance of her faith).

Darling, I wanted nothing more than to bundle you up right there and then and take you with me, out of that house, but I feared you’d probably not come. Until your letter, I didn’t know if all this business had changed your feeling toward me. At that time I wasn’t sure if you could be suffering from self-loathing, as seen through your mother’s eyes. The thought crossed my mind you could be regretting your association with me. You see, you didn’t look at me when you got up and went to your room. You just left and I was alone, not sure what to do, except knowing I had to pack and leave. Once I’d collected my belonging, I felt I couldn’t go back.

Leaving the house like that made me feel dirty, like I’d done something real bad. Ten, I know that loving you is exactly the reverse. You are the best thing that’s ever happened to me and my love for you is pure, devoted and adoring. I know what I feel for you is good and when we’re together it feels so right. My world too, seems a better place when you are in it, where everything is possible and together we can accomplish great things. Without you I feel unsettled and uncentered, like a windblown flame. Being with you gives me an inner feeling of peace and of course, that inner excitement, which I love. No one has ever made me feel the way you do. It’s wonderful and I want it never to stop. I just can’t get enough of it and I can’t get enough of you. Please hurry and get well, my Sweetness. I could still look after you at your place, but I suppose now, more than ever, you’ll have to stay at your parents’. Your mother would never let you come back to me.

My darling Ten, I’ll have to close. Thank you so much for your letter. You can’t know how awful it’s been, these last days, not hearing from you and being unable to call. It was like being set adrift on the open sea, alone and no land in sight, only my memories with their attendant fears, for company. They kept playing tricks on me until I was sure you hated me and would never want to see me again.

My Angel, I love you. I’m missing you dreadfully. I count the days ’til we’re together again.

Your devoted Sid.

LETTER FROM CARMEL TO DORIS.

Barkdene Hills Ave.,

Scarborough, Ontario,

Thurs. July 25th

Dear Dorrie,

Thank you for your letter. I was sorry to learn of the sadness visited upon you by this recent development. Roger and I have prayed for Tenille and hope that the power of the Lord will shine through and touch her that she may see the error of her ways. (I think you have no need to worry about her future, Dorrie). Tenille was a good wife to Jerred so I do believe this is just a passing thing.

Aren’t there any nice young men you can introduce her to at church? Jerred was a nice man too, but let’s face it, he was that much older than Tennie and pretty set in his ways. Roger and I were not really surprised he proved too much for her, although I know you felt it was a good catch at the time. You weren’t to know how things would turn out.

Well, that’s all behind us now. We’ve got to do what’s best for Tennie, to get her back on the right path. Would you like us to come visit this weekend? Our being there might help soften the atmosphere a bit. What do you say? You know we’ll do anything we can to help.

Your loving sister,

Carmel.

Friday afternoon found Doris reading Carmel’s letter. There and then, she decided to give her a ring, too impatient to worry about timing. Carmel answered and hearing Doris on the line, remarked: ‘I guessed you’d ring. So you got my letter.’

‘Yes, thanks, Mel. I think it would be a good idea to visit us for the weekend. Tenille is looking paler than ever with the circles under her eyes getting darker. I can’t do anything to get her out of this black mood. She’s not eating properly and is completely withdrawn, except for answering when spoken to. I feel so awful about it all. Things are not good here.’

‘Hang on, Dorrie. We’ll get everything back on track. How about I get Roger to drive us tonight after work. We’ll not stop for dinner and get to your place about eightish. How’s that? I think better than waiting ’til Saturday morning. Roger can catch up on his sleep when we’re there.’

‘Mel, you and Roger are good Samaritans.’ Doris felt the load lightening. ‘I’ll have to speak to Alex tonight and put him in the picture. I’m sure he must know something is amiss, but he’s not asked and I’ve not said. I’ll have something in the oven for you when you get here. This will be great. See you later.’

Feeling better, Doris went out to Tenille who was sitting in her favorite place under the big Maple, Betsy at her feet. She looked up from her book at her approach.

‘What are you reading,’ she enquired affably.

‘It’s the history of the horse,’ Tenille responded. Her words were pleasant enough, but her voice was flat. ‘I thought I would find out more about such a beautiful animal. It has been the servant of man for so many centuries and yet, unlike other animals that man has domesticated, it still requires to be broken. Strange that, isn’t it?’

‘Tennie dear,’ Doris didn’t want to be distracted from her purpose, ‘I thought I’d let you know Carmel and Roger will be visiting us this weekend.’ She stopped and intently scrutinized the face before her. ‘That will be nice won’t it?’ She was hoping to see some of the old spark.

‘Yes,’ she replied then returned to her book.

‘You will … talk … to them, won’t you dear? I don’t want you … disappearing,’ she said hesitantly, diffidence in the interactions with her daughter beginning to show.

‘No Mom, I won’t … disappear,’ Tenille sighed. ‘It will be a pleasure to see them.’ She looked up at her mother, hovering over her.

‘Truly,’ she added and smiled. Doris felt encouraged. ‘That’s my Tennie.’ She gave her shoulder a squeeze. ‘Want to give your mom a hand with supper?’ she asked hopefully.

Tenille didn’t, she wanted to be left alone, but her mother had been trying so hard to make up for things, she felt obliged to be co-operative. Her distress in all this upset was deep and she herself felt badly at being its cause. Nonetheless, she felt she had every right to lead her life as she wished. It hurt deeply to see her mother like this. There was a time when they’d been much closer, but Doris expected too much of her. She just couldn’t live up to it. And now … the final blow. This was like a cleaver between them; conflict beating a more bitter note in her heart, but what could she do?

She wanted to open up; would welcome the chance to tell of her joy and delight in her love for Sid, how wonderful and fulfilled she was. But fear wavered inside her, scraping her raw. Doris could not, would not listen. She could see no resolution. To her mother, it was all revolting; against the lord’s teaching and the Christian ethic.

She exhaled a deep sigh and nodded to her mother. She would be along in a moment. Doris left.

She withdrew the letter from her book and read it again, knowing the words off by heart, but liking to hold in her hands something Sidonie had touched. Especially, she loved the part where she had written: ‘You are the best thing that ever happened to me and my love for you is pure, devoted and adoring.’

She stopped reading and held the letter against her bosom. An indefinable sense of melancholy invaded her spirit as her dreams stretched before her, seemingly forever unattainable, like a mirage.

In the open air the garden was warm and scented. Reflected sunlight skimmed off the white, wrought iron table and lit up the color of each rose, as if from inside. A fresh breeze played amongst the Maple and Lime trees and snapped the Black-eyed Susans into a lively dance.

Betsy lay contentedly on the grass, happily soaking up the sun, eyelids drooping sleepily. Her back was to Tenille, front paws placed either side of her head as she rested her chin between them. The steady rise and fall of her chest was having a soporific effect. Tenille looked up through the lacy canopy of leaves, rendered luminous by the filtered light, to the infinity of the crystal blue sky, her thoughts returning to Sidonie. She could see her face in close-up, the fine hairs running from above her ear down onto her cheek. She saw especially, the vivid cobalt of her eyes, with amber flecks like highlights, as they held her gaze. She could spend all her day looking. She was heartsore, so deep was her love. She heard her voice with its throaty laugh, saying in mock threat: “Wait ’til I get you alone, I’ll show you who’s boss.” The memory suffused her body with a hot rush, making her face glow and her heart beat faster.

“My darling, why does time pass so slowly?” She let her hand drop and her head rest back against the seat, experiencing her sadness like a fist, clenched around her heart as her eyes misted. The heat of the day and her reverie filled her with lassitude, but she had to stir herself and go indoors.

Doris had already started. She set her daughter to the cutting of vegetables, needed for a goulash. As she bent her hands to the task, she let her mind relive the conversation she’d had with her dad. He had noticed the desolation of her mood; had been concerned for her welfare. She was sitting in the living room, she recalled and he had come to her, taken her hands in both of his and said: ‘I hate to see my daughter so upset.’ He then asked gently if she could tell him what was troubling her. The concern in his bearing and the softness of his voice had undone her and she’d been unable to stem the tears that had flowed copiously down her cheeks. Through them she unburdened her heart and confessed to him her great love. She told him of the happiness and enchantment she experienced in her life now, since knowing Sid. It hadn’t been ’til later she’d realized the risk she’d run. He could have responded like her mother … with disgust, perhaps rejection even. She smiled to herself. He had sat there quietly, still holding her hands, eyes never moving from her face, at that time filled with anguish and despair.

‘Dad, I want so much to be with Sid,’ she disclosed. ‘I would like us to find a place and for us to share our lives. I want you and mother to be a part of our lives too, but I can’t see how any of this can be.’ She had taken a tissue from the proffered box and wiped her eyes. ‘Mom is so dead set against Sid. She thinks I’m just going through a weak period and that I’ll get over it.’

She moved onto the next lot of veggies, as she remembered how vehemently she had declared that she wasn’t and wouldn’t. Alex had made no verbal response to this, just squeezed her hand in mute sympathy for her plight, a wealth of tenderness pouring from him. Not until she had finally talked herself out, had he counselled her with mature words of wisdom.

‘Tennie, from this perspective, everything looks disastrous and hopeless,’ he had said, then very seriously continued: ‘But with the passage of time, circumstances will change and you will be able to assess the situation, looking through a different lens. If you can try to take the long view … oh, I know that’s hard right now …’ and he never spoke a truer word she thought to herself, disconsolately: ‘ …you will be able to reconcile all the conflicting aspects.’ He had let go her hand at this juncture and gazed off into what seemed to be a middle distance. ‘Through life I have found this to be a method by which to manage many of the vicissitudes which have beset me. It has enabled me to keep a reasonable balance on things and prevented too heavy a swing either toward pessimism or optimism.’ He had stopped and looked back at her, bringing himself to the present and smiling with compassion.

‘You are young yet and I do realize that such counselling can seem empty to your youthful impatience, when everything has to be done yesterday, but believe me, daughter dear, if you can carry on in the ‘day-to-day’, the big issues will begin to sort themselves out.’

Then he had changed his tack and asked how Sidonie was feeling about all this. She recollected on that day she had not known. This was part of her problem. She had had no chance to speak to her in private, but she knew she had been mad. Yes, angry more than hurt. Now she was aware she had been keeping herself strictly under control, not wanting her mother to take it out on her. Otherwise her volatile temper could get the better of her. She really appreciated that Sid’s first concern had been her well being. She had held herself on a tight rein, not giving in to pent up frustration or raw anger.

As Tenille worked on, contemplating all these things, she came to realize the depth of character in her father. She regarded him with new respect and felt ashamed of her previous view of him as sweet, but ineffectual. She had seen him as taking the easy way, giving in to her mother. Sometimes it took more strength not to react. Now she appreciated his advice and the generosity of his sympathy. He’d probably not liked it any more than Doris, that her affections were being directed toward a woman, but he’d said nothing of his own opinion. He had tried, first and foremost, to understand where she was coming from; had refrained from passing judgement. Not as she had on him.

‘Have you finished the carrots yet?’ Doris’ voice reached her through a thick curtain.

‘Almost.’ Her hands had begun to slow down. This would be her mother’s way of bringing her back on track. ‘Auntie and Uncle are coming a long way just for the weekend, aren’t they?’ She made an attempt at conversation. “I must try,” she chided herself.

‘They may stay longer,’ Doris temporised. They heard the car. ‘You have a rest now, Tennie, I’m just going to have a word with Dad. Let him know they’ll be arriving.’

After greeting her father, Tenille took herself off.

Doris set drinks down on the coffee table and told her husband, rather officiously, she wanted to talk to him. ‘I got a call from Carmel today. She and Roger will be arriving later this evening, for the weekend.’ She let the words hang in the air, waiting for her husband’s reaction.

‘That’s all right, we have nothing on,’ his voice was measured, giving nothing away.

‘Yes,’ was all she could think of in reply to this. She would have to take the bull by the horns then. ‘They’re coming to help me deal with Tenille,’ her voice was almost a challenge.

‘Deal with Tennie. Whatever for?’

That had gotten him going, she thought.

‘Haven’t you noticed how strained she’s been recently? I don’t seem able to get through to her. It’s since that creature left.’

‘By ‘creature’, do you mean Sidonie?’ Alexander turned to look squarely at his wife.

‘I do indeed. Alex … I have to tell you some horrible news.’ Doris drew in a deep breath and set her glass down. ‘I found them that morning in bed together.’ She looked sharply at him to observe his reaction, but there was not the shocked expression she had expected. She picked up her glass again: ‘Well, what do you have to say?’ she pursued, relentlessly.

‘Doris, I have nothing to say,’ Alex’s tone was adamant. ‘This is something she has to work out for herself. I hope, like you, it’s just a passing phase, but if it proves not to be so, well … Tenille is still my daughter and I’ll love her to my dying day.’ He now set his glass down carefully too and leaned back, crossing one leg over the other.

‘How can you countenance such behavior?’ Doris retorted, spiritedly. She was incensed by his unruffled calm. ‘It’s against all the Lord’s teachings and no way for a daughter of ours to behave. I don’t know what’s come over her. We brought her up to have good values in life.’ She drew a deep breath. ‘Besides, what would the neighbors think, Tenille keeping company with someone like that? She’s not even our social level.’ By now Doris was very red in the face and her voice beginning to rise.

‘Calm yourself, dear,’ Alex tried to quieten her. ‘It’s all right. If it’s what makes her happy, who cares what the neighbors think?’ He was beginning to lose patience with his wife, but he knew he must keep control. ‘Anyway, she’ll not be staying here. She’s most likely to live in the city.’ He took another swig of his rye, deciding to pursue his line while he had the floor. ‘I think Sidonie is a very nice girl. Yes, she’s been around a bit, but she’s got her head screwed on right.’

‘How can you say that, Alex? She’s cheap and common. It’s obvious her upbringing had no refinement.’ Doris stopped to draw breath and quickly, Alex cut in.

‘ …but it had plenty of love and she has lots to give. Ten would be well looked after by someone as caring as Sidonie,’ he declared.

‘She should have a man, like any other natural and normal woman. This attachment is against nature and all our Christian teachings. It’s not good for her,’ Doris ended forthrightly, so positive was she, she had right on her side.

‘Well, she thinks it is,’ he contradicted.

Doris picked up on this, coming in scathingly with, ‘ …and how do you know what she thinks?’

‘We’ve talked,’ was all he said.

‘You talked?’ Doris’ voice filled with disbelief, then she became even more incensed. To think, the two of them talking tete à tete, behind her back … and Tenille wouldn’t say two words to her. This was infuriating. She put down her glass and turned her full attention on her husband.

‘When was this?’ speaking slowly and distinctly, a white ring circling her lips in her fury. Alex could see the gall was in her now and hated it.

‘Doris, I’m her father. I have every right to talk to her,’ becoming as heated as she.

‘I’m her mother. And you mean I haven’t?’

‘No I don’t mean that.’ He took deep breaths, trying to calm himself.

‘Doris, I’m being reasonable with you, but you are not. You’re twisting everything.’

‘I tell it like it is,’ she snapped, more angry by the moment. ‘From here I see a man who’s siding with his daughter against his wife.’ positively glaring at him now; a steely edge to her voice, eyes narrowed to slits. ‘You’ve always supported me in the past, why this change now?’

Alex sighed: ‘We’re talking about Ten’s happiness and possibly her future, Doris. She’s going through a bad patch, that’s why she’s tense and strained. We need to support her all we can,’ he said reasonably, ‘not confront her as though she’s some sort of piranha. Roger and Carmel, trying to talk her out of this will only end up driving her away from us. You don’t want that, I know you don’t.’ Alex got up and went over to sit next to his wife. ‘Let’s just go gently.’

‘Oh, you’re so weak,’ Doris spat out, shaking her head in irritation. ‘You mean to do nothing, like always,’ she continued contemptuously. ‘Well, I intend to do something and if you’re not going to help me, then I’ll get Carmel and Roger to give me the support I need.’ Her eyes glittered as her resolve solidified. ‘The three of us will bring her back to the fold …’ she stood up and turned to leave, then looked back at him: ‘ …with or without your co-operation.’

Alex, still sitting, sighed. She could be so stubborn at times. He knew it would be useless to try to reason with her when she was like this. There was a time when he would have matched her, shout for shout, but not now. It was best to let her cool down. Now he thought of the recovery period and no longer would risk saying things to be regretted later. Perhaps he could talk to her sister. He didn’t want her and Roger ganging up on Tenille and driving her beyond her ability to cope. She was a sensitive woman; easily hurt. He finished off his glass. He was not looking forward to this weekend.

*   *   *

Roger made good time, getting them to Lindsay at about nine o’clock. They felt travel weary after a full day, but were in good spirits. They were bent on the Lord’s work and embarked on that, there was no such thing as ‘too tired’. It was important to Doris; she’d lavished all her hopes and dreams on Tenille. When Tennie was little, she’d had a beautiful singing voice and she’d looked so cherubic, singing the old hymns with them. Doris had thought maybe there was a calling here for God’s work, but she’d turned away from the church in her teenage years. Look where that had gotten her.

Whilst the two travellers ate, Doris filled them in on her exchange with Alex. He sat at the table too, but she spoke as though he were not there. After tolerating a fair amount of this, he interjected to remind them that what was best for Tenille was their love and support.

‘Don’t get me wrong, both of you, I dislike this state of affairs as much as you, but the situation exists,’ he stated firmly. ‘If it’s a passing thing, then we want to be here for her when the blinkers come off. If it’s not …’ he looked at each one, ‘ …then we can’t just turn our backs. Surely, that would not be the Christian way. So … why don’t we listen to what she has to say, then try to guide her gently, and hope she understands us, too?’

They all sat silent, following these words, thinking over the part they could play in this drama. Eventually Roger took up the spokesmanship and suggested they wait ’til tomorrow and speak to Tenille then. It was late now.

‘I’ve tried talking to her, but she’s obdurate,’ Doris said, testily.

‘Let’s try tomorrow, Sis. It’s a week later and she’s had time to think things over.’

LETTER FROM TENILLE TO SIDONIE.

#27, Maple St.,

Lindsay, Ontario.

Sun. July 27th.

My darling Sid,

How I wish I could be with you. I miss you so much. My happiness is you. Why does life have to be so complicated? Complicated and frustrating. Hurtful too. Darling, this is how it is.

Right now life is intolerable to me, but I must stay, stuck on crutches and unable to do for myself. I’m dependent on mom and dad. Actually, dad is my guardian angel, so to speak. He let me talk to him and listened with great sensitivity. But now mom has enlisted my aunt and uncle and the three of them have been giving me the third degree. Yesterday Sid, you wouldn’t believe it. They were at me to explain myself and to say why I’d turned away from the path of right living. They’d brought me up to be God-fearing and why had I turned my back on all their teaching? I tried to explain that I’d not renounced the ‘golden rule’, but that I had this love for you. Oh my, they became so angry by that. They could hear nothing else but my ‘unnatural love’ for a woman. It got them so worked up; their voices rose and they talked over top of each other. In the end I had to give up trying to say anything. They wouldn’t listen. Finally, I told them I was going to my room and left the three of them staring after me. I guess they got the message that I wasn’t going to renounce you or deny my love for you. I did try to tell them that I’m still me, that I’m not a changed woman, but they would have none of it.

So my dearest, I’ve been thinking. I know we haven’t talked about this yet but … do you think you could find a place for us? Somewhere in Toronto? I just can’t stand it here. Please say it’s possible. I know I’d get better faster if I were with you, than being stuck here.

Please come and take me away, Sid. Not a moment passes, but I dream of the time we’ll be together; when you can look into my eyes and see how much you mean to me. I love you with all my heart and body.

Sid, I am yours always.

Tenille.

Sidonie finished reading this letter and let out a long breath. She had to make her move and fast. Slipping it into the back pocket of her shorts, she drove straight away downtown to the Women’s Bookstore on Harbord Street. She would speak to Chrysta.

She had known Chrysta Purdom only a short time, but they had clicked right away. Kindred spirits with like minds. Chrysta had been working at the bookstore for two years, developing an extensive network of women’s organizations and self-help groups. After listening to Sidonie’s story, it was in the post-prandial lull before the second wave of browsers, she promised to get on to it. She knew someone at the community co-operative near Mount Sinai Hospital. Sidonie should call her the next day.

It was hard for her to wait like this. Doing nothing was not her style. Her personality tended to be left-brain dominant, spending little time on introspection. Concrete action was the name of her game. With the advent of Tenille, she seemed to be getting in touch with her right brain on a more regular basis. Sometimes she believed she was consumed by feelings. She loved Tenille, even when sleeping. When she closed her eyes, images of her filled her mind and she was everywhere.

Chrysta was a good sort and she believed she had successfully transmitted the urgency of the situation. If anyone could pull strings, she could. Her blue eyes, more alive and eager than ever, sparkled and flashed as she speculated on the possibility of their finding a place by August 10th.“Gee, that would be great,” she mused to herself. That was her birthday and this would be the best gift of all.

She decided to dash off a quick note. Not usually one for letters, but somehow the words were there when it came to Tenille, it was wonderful how the act of writing seemed to bring her that much closer. She wished she too, could compose poetry, but being a realist she knew she didn’t have the flair. She told her how much she loved her and missed her. Reiterated her commitment to contribute to her goals and never diminish them. On the last page, she explained about Chrysta and expressed her hopes for a possible move this month.

She had to address the letter to Kirsten and since the last one had arrived safely, she supposed this one too, would reach its true destination.

Being Wednesday, she got ready to take herself off to Softball. To give of her best to the game would be very helpful just now; taking her mind off her troubles. Also, she would probably run into Reine and Thea and that was always a pleasure.

*   *   *

She phoned Chrysta the following afternoon. Her expectations were on a high, which was why she fell so hard when it was explained there was absolutely no hope until either Christmas or the New Year. The waiting list was that full. She groaned dramatically, then wailed, unable to stop herself. ‘Chrysta, we can’t wait that long. Are you sure? What about other blocks?’ Her face darkened as she furrowed her brow and looked about desperately. ‘We’ve got to find somewhere.’ Her hand had flown to rake her hair in impatience. She needed action.

‘Hold on Sid,’ her friend chastised. ‘Don’t go flying off in all directions like a bandy-legged chipmunk. All is not lost.’ Chrysta took a deep breath, letting a pulse beat of silence pass. ‘Now listen,’ she commanded sternly. ‘I knew you’d be disappointed, so I looked around for some other alternative.’

She stopped her wild gestures and did calm down at this, letting go of her hair, to drum a little tattoo on the telephone casing. ‘Yes?’

‘Would you settle for sharing a big house?’

She remained silent. This was not what she had been visualizing. She could see them in a bright, freshly modern and compact apartment … but some old, dark and dingy house? She sighed … any port in a storm. Cautiously she proceeded: ‘Where and with whom?’

‘I checked our notice board and found a small, neatly written request for two women to take the top floor …’

‘Top floor means stairs. Chrysta, damn it, Tenille’s on crutches.’ she interjected sharply, her cobalt eyes blazing to indigo.

‘Well,’ Chrysta retorted, equally impatient: ‘She won’t be on crutches for ever, you loon … and you did say ‘in a hurry’, so let me finish.’ They both took a moment’s respite to collect themselves.

‘It’s a two-storey house, made over into two, completely separate apartments. It has a fairly good-sized yard. You have to phone to find out where it is, but it’s probably not that far from here. Now … are you interested? Oh yes,’ she added triumphantly; ‘Possession can be immediate.’

Sobered and with her brain in gear, she thanked Chrysta for her efforts and said yes, she definitely was interested. ‘Did the ad. mention terms?’

‘No, but I’ve got the number to call.’

‘Good. I’ll take it.’ She fished for a pen and used Tenille’s envelope. ‘Any chance we could be dealing with a dyke here?’ she enquired as she finished writing. Chrysta considered this a distinct possibility, but all types of people used their notice board. The most promising part, in her considered judgement was that it asked for two women.

‘Anyway, I reckon it could be worth a try. All you can do is go round, meet the people and see what you think.’

‘You’re right, Chrysta. I’ll do that and tonight if possible.’

‘Good,’ she agreed. ‘I think this could be your best bet for solving your problem so quickly.’ She thought to give a word of advice. ‘Just don’t go being too fussy. Remember, you and Tenille can always make changes to your liking, once you’re in.’ She signed off. ‘Happy hunting and good luck.’

Sidonie found another quarter and tried the number. All she got was the answering machine. Must be at work, she mused. No point leaving a message though. As she returned to her room she tried to analyse the voice she’d just heard. It had sounded quite clipped; well educated. Perhaps they were professional women? Tenille would be pleased with that. She didn’t think she’d be at ease if they turned out to be hippy. Also, professionals would mean they wouldn’t be home all day, so whilst she was recuperating, they’d have the house to themselves, in the afternoon. Very nice. “Now Sid,” she reprimanded herself, “cut that out. Anyway, the place could be a dump.”

She spent the rest of the afternoon catching up on domestic chores, including stocking her fridge and getting rid of a pile of laundry. Six o’clock … time to try again. On the second ring the receiver was picked up. A soft, foreign voice said: ‘Hello, Rani speaking.’

This was unexpected. She had been geared for the voice of the answering machine. ‘Oh Hi …’ then she stammered, ‘I’m Er..r, calling regarding your notice Er..r, at the Women’s Bookstore. Hm..m, is the apartment still available?’

‘Yes it is. Do you want to see it?’

‘Yes, but I also need to know how much the rent is.’

‘Oh, of course …’ the woman acknowledged, then temporised, ‘ …perhaps it would be a good idea to see it first. Someone else phoned about it and when I told them they decided not to come. We can negotiate,’ she offered by way of explanation. ‘If you like the place and we like you too,’ she added with an embarrassed laugh.

Sidonie digested the unease and thought the woman was probably not too comfortable in the role of landlord. ‘I’m free this evening if it’s convenient for you,’ she offered, hopefully.

‘Yes, that’s fine.’ She gave the address and directions. #39, Robina Avenue, north of St. Clair Avenue West, between Vaughan Road and Dufferin. Well, it wasn’t the downtown she’d hoped for, but not the boonies either. ‘Would seven be convenient? We have to go out later.’

‘Perfect,’ agreed Sidonie. ‘See you then.’

On the way she dropped her letter to Tenille in the mailbox. ‘Immediate possession’ kept ringing in her ears. She began to hope against hope, the apartment would suit. Perhaps even more importantly, she would suit them. It seemed equally significant the two women be favorably impressed with her. To that end she had chosen her wardrobe with care, dressing conservatively in black jeans, not too tight and a crisp cotton shirt of the palest pink. No rings, just her serviceable watch.

Now she was this close, she was beginning to set her heart on it. She’d completely changed her thinking around from the community set up. Now she was appreciating the idea of the anonymity of a private house and Chrysta was right, Tenille wouldn’t be on crutches forever. Lost in these thoughts, she surprised herself when she turned left into Robina Avenue so easily. She’d taken the Yorkdale exit from the 401, then continued south on Marlee. At Eglinton she’d taken a dogleg west to Oakwood and proceeded southward to St Clair West. She was pleased to see the neighborhood was well cared for with many of the original tree plantings still in place. #39 sported a very stately Maple of noble dimensions.

“I wonder who cleans the gutters in the fall?” an idle speculation. This reality was far from her idea of some rundown construction from a previous time, draughty and creaky. This looked like a well maintained Victorian house. Yes old, but still in good shape. She parked out front, noting the well-tended yard. Someone obviously enjoyed gardening in the traditional style of scalloped lawn edges and abundant floral beds. She didn’t know her flowers that well, but could recognize Alyssum and London Pride.

There was no waiting in response to her knock. When the door opened she was face to face with the most beautiful Indian woman she’d ever seen. She wore casual western dress, but her sophistication was unmistakable.

‘You must be Sidonie,’ the woman smiled graciously. ‘Do please come in.’ She led the way into the living room through double opening French doors, calling out in the direction of the bedroom, ‘Moira, Sidonie’s here,’ then indicated a comfortable chair. The room was beautifully proportioned with a high ceiling, featuring an ornate, plaster rose with matching cornices. The parquetry was shown off to advantage by antique Indian rugs. The room itself had been furnished in a variety of styles. Some of the other chairs looked most uncomfortable and rather formal. It seemed the purchase of the house had used up their resources for the time being and they’d had to resort to best buys where they could. Rani saw her eyes scanning the room and confirmed her suspicions.

‘We bought this house six months ago because we fell in love with it and also as an investment.’

She noticed the use of the personal pronoun and felt her anticipation rise, as to who would be the other half of this stunning woman.

‘We’re looking for a reliable couple who will take care of the first floor apartment, respecting the age of the house.’ She smiled to reveal dazzlingly white, even teeth and elaborated further. ‘Its age means we’re rather short of closet and storage space in general, but we’ve managed to furnish it reasonably adequately, we think. At least for now.’

‘Yes, I understand,’ Sidonie encouraged. ‘You can’t do everything at once. It all takes time doesn’t it?’

Rani did not respond to this, since it was at that moment Moira appeared. She wasn’t what Sidonie had expected at all, being short and quite plump. Her hazel eyes were enlarged behind conservative, tortoiseshell framed glasses. She judged her to be early fifties. There was no sophistication here, everything bespoke comfort and convenience. She rose as Moira entered.

‘Hello.’ Moira extended her hand. ‘You’d like to see the apartment? Follow me.’

Her voice had the same deep, resonant sound Sidonie had detected on the answering machine, like someone used to authority, at ease with the position of command. To Sidonie’s surprise they went out the front door. She had expected to go through the house.

‘The apartment has it’s own entrance on this side. Very convenient,’ Moira added in clipped tones. She unlocked the door and they mounted rather steep, narrow stairs. At the top, another door was unlocked. It opened straight into a large living room, proportioned like the downstairs, with generous dimensions, but running only half the length of the house. There were windows front and back, which Sidonie thought an interesting feature, allowing for a light airiness.

‘The kitchen is through here.’ They turned to the right. Yes, it was old looking, but the appliances were new.

‘On the other side, over here …’ they retraced their steps, ‘ …is the bathroom.’ It too, looked old, but this time the original tiles in pink with black trim had retained their period elegance. A showerhead had been installed over the bathtub and the curtain ran round on a suspended brass rail. Even the taps were brass.

Moira continued the tour across the other side of the living room. Two doors opened off. One was the master bedroom the other smaller, doubling as a study or office. ‘Well, there you have it,’ Moira declared. ‘If you come to this window, you can just about see that we have a large, well-treed back yard. It’s private and shady in summer. Round the corner,’ she jerked her thumb southward, ‘just out of sight, is a BBQ.’ Considering the tour complete, she suggested they return downstairs.

Back in the living room, Rani had made coffee. ‘Do help yourself to cream and sugar,’ she offered.

‘What do you think?’ Moira enquired.

Sidonie felt put on the spot. ‘Well, I don’t know. I’d have to check it out with my friend.’ She finished with the cream and declined the sugar. ‘There is the all-important question of rental fee.’

‘We thought in the neighborhood of about …’ Moira looked at Rani, ‘ … $400:00 per month.’ She was hasty to add as she returned her regard to Sidonie: ‘We’re not looking for big bucks, you understand, but we need some financial help for us to carry the mortgage.’

‘Can I get back to you on this?’ Moira nodded, then Sidonie continued, ‘I guess the hydro and oil are separate too.’

‘Yes, we have two systems set up in the basement. They must have done this when they made the house into two apartments, so your bills would be independent of ours.’

‘This is a much better way too, I think,’ Rani observed. She had not been contributing to the discussion, but was attentive. Now she faced Sidonie directly: ‘Don’t you?’

‘Yes,’ Sidonie agreed. ‘It would make it easier all round.’ With this, she rose to take her leave, thanking them for their time and promising to phone within the next few days. Moira told her they were usually home about now, but she gave her the mobile number just in case.

As Sidonie returned to her car, her brain was busy thinking over all the angles. The apartment was definitely not what she’d had in mind. Although not as bad as she’d at first feared, she still couldn’t see herself and Tenille in those surroundings. She began driving automatically through the flow of evening traffic. She had meant to notice the proximity of any convenience stores or shopping plazas, but was already approaching the highway collector lane before she realized she’d missed her chance. A big plus in favor of the house was the immediate occupancy. However, if she took the time, there were probably many others out there with vacant possession. As she eased into the traffic, heading west, other positives presented themselves. The neighborhood: quiet and residential: an environment in which Tenille could feel comfortable. For herself, she had always liked the busy anonymity of downtown, suiting her lesbian lifestyle but … what the hell, she was stuck way out in the Styx at Rexdale as it was. She knew Tenille would appreciate the garden, like home, as she did, for that matter. Was she talking herself into it?

She manoeuvred into the passing lane then remained there, ready to take the express exit which would be coming up soon. Yes, perhaps she was doing a number on herself, but really, it would have to be Tenille who made the decision. She would be the one spending most of her time here. If her grant came through, come the fall, she would be in Guelph and only in Toronto on weekends. Realistically, Tenille was the one to have the final say. That settled, she tuned into her favorite radio station in time to hear that Mauresmo had successfully made it through to the quarterfinals of the Canadian open, currently playing at North York University.

‘Cool Amelie. Excellent.’ she cheered. She had hoped to make it out to the Rothmans’ Tennis Championships this year, but she’d not expected to meet Tenille and that had changed everything. Perhaps next year they could go together. Did she even like tennis? The finals would be on this Sunday. Perhaps she could still get tickets. Who did she know? It would be great to see Mauresmo in a final.

Now she had to tackle the problem of describing the apartment well enough for Tenille to make a judgement. As she parked and locked the car, she was struck by the thought that for speed, she could phone Kirsten and get her to get Tenille to call back. This way she could give Moira and Rani their answer sooner. Before going to her room she stopped at the hallway to check with directory inquiries. They gave her the number, but then she realized she didn’t have enough quarters for STD, even though it was evening. Luckily, Thelma was in next door and helped her out.

When Sidonie tried Kirsten’s number the line was busy. She had to kill time before trying again. The second time she got through it was Dietmar. She heard him calling out, telling Kirsten to hurry … long distance. ‘Kirsten, it’s Sid here,’ she began.

‘Hi Sid. How are you?’ Kirsten enquired, politely.

‘Well thanks.’ She was anxious about her stock of quarters running out so cut the small talk, coming straight to the point. Kirsten understood the situation; knew Sidonie couldn’t phone herself, but wasn’t sure how Tenille could contact her.

‘I realize this is complicated and quite a mess really, but could you tell Tenille that I want her to phone me. She can make it any time after two o’clock tomorrow. The afternoon is the best time for me. I’ll wait for her call.’

‘Okay,’ she agreed. ‘I’ll contact her and ask her to do as you request. She has your number?’

‘No I’ll give it to you.’ Sidonie clarified the position for her. ‘She’ll have to phone me at a friend’s apartment.’ She thumbed through her address book and read out Reine’s number.

‘Got it.’

‘Thanks a million, Kirsten. You’re a great friend to have,’ Sidonie said sincerely. Almost out of quarters, but she’d got the business done.

Next was Reine. She seemed to be asking a lot of people for favors. It would be a long list of I.0.U.s. Reine explained there’d be no one home ’til later, but she was welcome to stay as long as she liked.

‘I’ll put the key in our mailbox, in an old envelope so it looks like incoming mail. If you leave before we get back, just drop it on the kitchen counter. But we’d like to see you if possible,’ Reine added.

‘Thanks Buddy. I don’t know what time Tenille will call, so I might still be there when you get home.’

‘Listen Sid, stay on anyway and take potluck. It’s been an age since last time,’ Reine offered. ‘You know how Thea likes to make with the pots and pans.’

Sidonie liked the idea, but if Tenille said yes, she could be shooting off to Robina Avenue. ‘Hell, I hate to mess you about Reine, but I may have to go out. Thanks for the offer though. Appreciate it,’ she concluded. They left it at that. She was now free for an early night and a good book.