Sapphic Voices Romance

The First Secret

The thick fog swirled and eddied around the car making Helen feel as if she was inside a cocoon. It was so thick that she could not see past the bonnet of the car and the lights were reflected off the solid bank of whiteness straight back into her eyes. Shapes loomed out the darkness every few minutes making her foot stab instinctively at the brakes, until she realised that it was just another skeletal tree or a lonely road sign perched on top of metal poles.

Driving in these conditions for over two hours had drained her and she looked at her watch again. The hands had hardly moved since she last checked the time.

She moved forward slightly and hunched over the wheel; perched on the very edge of her seat and squinting through the window she resembled a large, if somewhat myopic, garden gnome.

She wished that she had stayed in her warm, safe office instead of out in the field trying to prove she was still "one of the boys". Since her promotion three years ago to Chief of Sales for a large pharmaceutical company based in Edinburgh, there was little opportunity to travel and talk to customers face-to-face. She missed this, and jumped at the very few chances that did come her way to go out on the road again.

She fiddled with the radio again, although she knew it was useless. It had given up the ghost about 50 miles ago and all that it produced now was a low hiss of static electricity with the occasional Dutch voice calling faintly somewhere deep in cyberspace.

She blinked several times to try and alleviate the dry, gritty feeling in her eyes. She felt as if someone had sprinkled sand in them and her back muscles were beginning to protest violently against her unnatural seating position. She shifted her weight and the relief was as instantaneous as it was fleeting because, within seconds, her other shoulder started to ache.

According to the map she was only about three miles from a hotel and she intended spending the night there. She had promised Aileen that she would be back tonight but that was simply not possible. She was still over 100 miles from Edinburgh and, before the radio died, it had informed her via a weather report, delivered in what must have been the most sexiest voice in broadcasting, that fog lay like a thick blanket across the entire area of Central Scotland. She often tuned into that particular radio station just to hear Fiona Gordon read the weather. Her throaty voice never failed to make Helen shiver in expectation. Her voice was low and husky and always made Helen feel as if someone was caressing her spine with fingers as soft and light as gossamer.

She would phone Aileen from the hotel.

She fiddled with the radio again trying to find a station, any station. She jumped as a particularly loud crackle of sound suddenly filled the car. It faded and was replaced by a profound silence. She pushed the off button in frustration and turned her full attention to the road again.

She had not seen another car for about ten miles and was feeling very isolated, enveloped in this impenetrable whiteness which stretched as far as the eye could see. The ghostly patterns which the fog made all around the motor made her jump more than once, as she imagined that someone, or something, was at the side of the car.

She crawled relentlessly on into the unknown, hunched forward staring intently into the gloom.

Suddenly a figure appeared in front of the car and Helen slammed on her brakes voicing a soft curse as the apparition turned to face her and instinctively stuck out its thumb in the universal hitch-hiking gesture. The figure seemed to glide towards the vehicle. It was obviously a woman but more than that Helen could not tell in the severely reduced visibility.

As she reached the car she tried to open the passenger door but Helen had locked it at the start of the journey, so she stooped and started in the window at her. As their eyes met Helen found herself reaching over to unlock the door. She had not even decided to give the girl a lift but it was too late as she pulled the door open and sat down heavily. The icy dampness she brought with her pervaded the car instantly.

Helen squinted out the window on her side, fully expecting an accomplice to appear with a knife in his hand. All the warnings about picking up hitchhiker on lonely roads flashed into her mind but she fought down the rising concern and put the car in gear, and with a quick glance in the side mirror, plunged back into the fog.

The traveler was making herself at home as she removed her damp shoes and coat and turned up the heater without asking Helen's permission.

"Miserable night to be hiking," Helen said.

"Yea," she agreed, "my bike finally gave up the ghost about two miles down the road so I didn't have a choice."

"My name's Helen by the way."

"I'm Jo," she said and lapsed into silence again.

As she drove she glanced over at her passenger occasionally. She was making herself at home with her feet thrust under the dashboard as close to the heater as possible. She rummaged inside the bag which was resting on the floor and then offered Helen a cigarette.

"No thanks. I don't".

Jo lit up without asking if Helen minded.

A strange smell filled the car and Helen glanced over at her passenger. "That cigarette smells funny", she said wrinkling her brow.

"Yeah. They are special ones", said Jo with a twinkle of amusement in her large, expressive eyes.

Helen grunted, "What do you mean, special".

"Well, they're ladies cigarettes."

"What are you talking about".

"They are scented", Jo explained patiently.

"Oh! I see"

"Yeah. Scented all the way from Columbia". Jo chuckled

"What.... You mean they are ....Christ . Are you smoking dope in my car?" In her indignation Helen was spluttered like a maiden aunt being confronted with a naked man.

"Yeah. Want a toke," Jo replied totally unconcerned.

"No I don't. What I want is for you to get rid of it." Helen was livid.

"Hey loosen up will ya. Christ, this the best of stuff, and it's not cheap so I'm certainly not wasting it."

Helen slammed on the brakes bringing the car to an abrupt halt at the side of the road where she sat with her arms folded across her chest staring at Jo.

Jo stared back but she could not hold Helen's gaze for long.

"OK. OK," she grumbled as she wound down the window and flicked her joint into the trees at the side of the road. The red-white tip glowed for a second and then winked out.

"Thank you," Helen said primly as she started forward again.

They drove in silence for a few minutes until Jo said, " Have you never tried a little recreational drugs."

"No. I most certainly have not."

"Maybe you should. It'll relax you a bit. Also you shouldn't knock what you haven't tried".

"I've never murdered anyone either but that doesn't mean I want to try it." Even as she said the words Helen realised how pompous she sounded.

"It's hardly a valid comparison," Jo said.

Helen silently agreed but was definitely not going to admit it, so both women lapsed into silence again.

As Helen pulled into the car park of the hotel she looked over and was surprised to see Jo sound asleep, She was curled up on the seat like a child. She looked at the younger woman, really looked at her for the first time since they met. She was thin to the point of emaciation and her small, elven-like face was in stark contrast to the shock of green and orange hair that lay like an unruly mop on top of her head. Her clothes looked clean but a bit outlandish for Helen's conservative tastes. Her eyes dropped to the girl's bust - small, braless - and then further to her thighs where her dress had hitched up as she slept.

"Like what you see?" Jo mocking voice reverberated in the silent stillness of the car made Helen jump.

"This is where we part company," Helen said firmly as she busied herself with her bag, seat belt and car keys in an effort to hide her embarrassment at being caught examining Jo.

Jo stretched like a cat and unashamedly pulled her blouse up to scratch her perfectly flat stomach. "Where are we?"

"The hotel where I plan to spend the night. I can't drive any further in this fog."

"Oh. Can I sleep in the car then?"

"No you can't." Helen's tone was sharper than she meant to be. She immediately relented. "Don't you have any money?"

"Yeah, a bit, but it won't last long on the road if I waste it on fancy hotels."

Helen looked at her obviously deciding what to do. "Come on into the hotel with me." She said at last, "I guess my expense account can stretch to a suite."

She got out the car and went to the boot to retrieve her bag.

Jo was grinning as she walked through the hotel doors and swaggered up to the reception desk as if she owned the building.

"Good evening, Ms. Worth." The clerk said nasally as he looked down his aristocratic nose at her companion.

"Good evening, John," Helen returned the greeting. She felt a stab of annoyance at his implied disapproval of Jo. "Do you have a suite with two beds free?"

"I'll just check for you, Ms. Worth," he intoned as he glanced at Jo again over the top of his half-moon glasses. "I'm afraid we only have a double room available. One double room with one bed, that is." He stared at Jo again as if she was something nasty that he had just stepped in making Helen realised how intensely she had always disliked this man.

"That will do John." She said as she lifted the keys from the immaculately polished counter. "Have our bags brought up immediately," she added curtly.

Turning she walked towards the bank of elevators as Jo trotted at her side.

It was unlike her to order hotel staff around as if they were servants and also out of character not to say "please" or "thank you" as she hated rudeness, but she was furious and made no attempt to hide it.

As they entered the elevator Jo regarded her with a new respect. "Don't let that guy bug you, he is obviously an asshole."

"He had no right to look at you like that and by the time I write to the manager he will be lucky to keep his job. My company spends thousands at this hotel every month and would not appreciate their guests being treated like that".

Suddenly Jo was in front of her and her arms were wrapped around her neck as she leaned so close that their lips almost touched. "Lighten up Helen," she whispered and then leaned forward slightly to brush her lips gently. "You'll live longer."

Helen stared at Jo and was about to reach for her but the elevator stopped and the doors opened. An elderly couple entered and Helen hastily put as much distance as she could between herself and Jo.

The gentleman had "olde worlde" manners and removed his hat when he saw the two women. "Good evening ladies," he intoned gravely.

"Good evening," Jo and Helen said in unison.

"Is it hot in here or is it me," his companion said, to no one in particular.

Jo stifled a giggle as Helen replied, "Yes. It is very hot in the hotel this evening."

The elevator stopped at their floor and Helen picked her brief case off the floor and strode down the corridor towards her room.

The door was ajar and a bell-boy was fussing around checking the bathroom and straightening the already straight table cloth. There was a bottle of champagne cooling in a bucket on the table beside two crystal glasses. Helen eyed it as the bell-boy explained that Mr Hamilton-Smith from reception had sent it up with his compliments. He must have run up the stairs to reach the room before them Helen thought.

When he had left Helen suddenly felt a little awkward now they were alone and free to continue the encounter they had started in the lift.

She gave an exaggerated yawn as she headed towards the bathroom to turn the shower on. She was already regretting allowing the younger woman to kiss her, although the memory of her wiry body against hers was intoxicating.

She turned the shower on full and returned to the bedroom to fetch some clean clothes from her suitcase. Jo was lying on the bed fiddling with the TV remote control and her shoes and coat were scattered over the floor. Dropped where she had removed them obviously.

Helen scooped them up and placed the shoes side by side under the chair and neatly folded the coat, hanging it over the back of the same chair.

"Is it absolutely necessary for you to be such a slob?" she snapped irritably.

Jo looked at her but said nothing. There was a sarcastic grin played at the corners of her mouth which was fighting for expression.

"Uh! Sorry. I'll try to be more like you in future".

Helen glared at her but said nothing as she turned back to the bathroom.

She soaped herself vigorously trying to ease the tension in her shoulders and felt a lot better when she finally emerged about twenty minutes later.

As she went back into the main room she noticed that the harsh overhead lights had been turned off and the small bedside lamps were now the only source of light in the room. The radio was playing softly and the ambience had an immediate soothing effect on Helen as she sat at the dressing table and began to brush her hair.

Jo sat cross-legged on the bed and watched her. Helen could see her reflection in the mirror beside her own and smiled at her.

"Are you hungry?"

"Yeah. I'm always hungry," Jo replied.

"Well, why don"t you have a shower and I'll order some food".

"Is this your way of ensuring that I do actually have a wash?" Jo smiled but there was an unmistakable tone of hurt in her voice.

Helen swung round to face her, "Of course not. I just thought that if you're hiking over the country, or whatever it is you are doing, you would appreciate the opportunity to have a hot shower and a meal."

Jo stared at her and then slowly rose. Helen turned back to the mirror as Jo came to stand behind her. Tentatively she placed her hands on Helen's shoulder and Helen stopped in mid-stroke. She was holding her breath as Jo softly kneaded her shoulders and neck.

"That feels good," she murmured closing her eyes.

Jo bent down and placed a small, gentle kiss on her ear.

Helen opened her eyes but she was alone.

Helen shivered and slowly let out her breath. After a few minutes she rose and lifted the room service menu. Cradled the telephone against her ear she ordered for them both.

A few minutes later Jo came back into the room, towelling her hair as she walked. "Have you ordered any food?" she asked.

"Yes. It will be here shortly," Helen replied. "You have enough time to finish dressing."

Jo twirled around and then struck a catwalk pose, thrusting her naked thigh out of the fold in the towel.

"Why? What's wrong with the towel?" She grinned.

"Actually it's perfect and that's what's wrong with it," Helen replied smiling.

The ensuing silence was broken by a knock on the door.

"That was really something." Jo sat back from the table. She had done the lobster and steak full justice and burped unselfconsciously making Helen smile, she really is just like a child Helen thought, as she watched her walk over to the bed. Jo sat down heavily, tucking one leg under her as she flicked through the channels on the TV.

"Anything in particular you want to watch?" she called over her shoulder.

"No." Helen replied. "It's getting a bit late anyway."

Jo took the hint and clicked the set off, rising instead to fetch the remainder of the champagne. She filled Helen glass without asking, and then her own, before sitting back on the bed and placing the bottle back in the ice-bucket on the bedside cabinet.

Helen sat also and they faced each other with their knees almost touching.

"So what's the story then?" Helen said. "Why are you traipsing around the country?"

Jo shrugged non-committaly.

"It's not safe for a woman to hitch-hike alone." Helen added. Jo shrugged again and reached for the champagne bottle and emptied the rest of the wine into Helen's glass. Helen was becoming a little drunk but she felt mellow and relaxed.

"Do you want me to order another bottle?" she said.

"No. I'm not much of a drinker really," Jo replied. "I have other ways to relax. I enjoy a joint after a meal." She looked at Helen expectantly.

"I thought I already made my position on drugs clear," Helen retorted.

"Aw! Come on. I'm not asking you to smoke it."

"Christ Jo. You'll get us arrested." Helen was weakening.

"Pleeeease," Jo said beseechingly, ruthlessly pressing her advantage by moving so as to cause her robe to slip off one shoulder.

Helen shook her head in disapproval. "Well. Just one then," she gave in.

Jo rose and rummaged in her bag returning to the bed within a few seconds with a fat joint in one hand and a cigarette lighter in the other. She lit it and inhaled deeply before letting the smoke trickle slowly out her nose.

Helen watched with fascination as Jo repeated the process.

"Have you never smoked hash?" Jo asked.

"No. I wouldn't even know where to buy drugs. I doubt if they sell them where I live."

Jo laughed. "Helen, it's sold everywhere. You are so naive".

This comment stung. Especially coming from a woman who was obviously twenty years younger than her.

"I'm just as adventurous as the next person," she protested.

"Prove it then," Jo challenged. "Try something completely new, something so far outside your present sphere of experience that it is entirely out of character."

Jo held the lit cigarette towards her for emphasis.

Helen could see Jo's eyes mocking her through the thin haze of marijuana smoke that now hovered in the air over the bed, and tentatively reached for the joint.

She had quit smoking about fifteen years ago so it felt strange to have a cigarette in her hand again. She put it to her lips and exhaled deeply. The acrid smoke hit her throat and came straight back out again in a great racking cough.

Jo handed her a glass of champagne and she gulped it greedily. Her eyes were watering and she knew her face was red and flushed.

She tried to hand the offending object back to Jo but she shook her head refusing it. "You just need a bit of practise, that's all. Take another drag and then hold it at the back of your throat for a second before you swallow. Don't gulp it." She instructed as Helen took another tentative puff.

She didn't cough this time and it gave her enough confidence to have another go, inhaling deeper this time she held it for a second and then slowly exhaled.

The effects were immediate and the feeling of unreality made her light-headed. She squinted at Jo through the tendrils of smoke and suddenly started giggling helplessly. One part of her was aware of how ridiculous she must seem but another part of her didn't care. Her misgiving evaporated and she took another enormous toke making the tip of the joint glow brightly until she felt the heat on her fingers. She held her breath until she felt a pulse throb in her ears before she slowly exhaled again. Her general feeling of well-being increased, if that were possible, and she lay back against the headboard limply. Jo reached for the cigarette which was dangling from her fingers but she pulled her hand away.

"Get your own," she slurred with a lop-sided dopey grin. Her face felt frozen and her smile so enormous that she though of the Cheshire Cat from Alice in Wonderland. She started giggling again as she sucked the last lungful of smoke from her roach and handed the tiny butt to Jo.

Jo looked bemused as she went to flush it down the toilet.

When she came back Helen was sprawled over the bed examining her hands. She was holding them both up to the light and staring at them as if they did not belong to her.

"I never realised that the lines on my palms were so deeply etched before," she said, as she held them both out towards Jo. Jo peered at the proffered hands but they looked normal to her so she shrugged.

Suddenly Helen grabbed both her hands and examined them intently.

"Did I ever tell you that I can read palms?" she said and winked conspiratorially. Without waiting for an answer she started talking again. "You will meet a tall, dark, absolutely gorgeous, woman who will invite you to her hotel room for a meal and a drink. You will have a wonderful time. Ah but, I see a warning." She lowered her voice to a dramatic whisper. "You must be careful around water." As Helen said this she suddenly reached over and grabbed a handful of ice from the ice bucket and dumped it down Jo's robe.

Jo squealed with shock and pulled the robe open letting the ice cubes fall onto the thickly carpeted floor. Helen was treated to a quick flash of small, firm breasts before Jo turned and grabbed her own handful of ice and advanced on her threateningly.

"No," Helen squeaked as she tried to scramble to the other side of the bed. Jo was too quick for her though as she launched herself on top of Helen thrusting her dripping hands inside her robe.

Helen was giggling uncontrollably as Jo rubbed the ice across her stomach leaving a trail of freezing water in her wake. Her chest muscles contracted fiercely as her nipples hardened.

Jo sat up panting.

"You won't try that again," she said laughing as she rose onto her knees over Helen's prostrate body. Helen moved sideways, causing Jo's knees to collapse and they became a tangle of arms and legs on the bed.

"Madam," Jo's voice was muffled, " Kindly remove your left breast from my ear."

"Give me one good reason why I should," whispered Helen thickly.

"I'm getting excited and, consequently, am in imminent danger of exploding." Jo looked at Helen with naked desire in her eyes. "Is that a good enough reason for you?"

Helen turned to face Jo as she leant on her elbow. "How excited," she demanded.

For a second Jo looked confused but quickly entered into the spirit of things. "Very", she said. "In fact I can't remember the last time I was so aroused."

"That doesn't tell me much," Helen said. "I'm sure you can be more eloquent than that."

"I'm wet."

"How wet," Helen said.

"Soaking," Jo replied.

Helen suddenly sat up. "Show me," she demanded.

Jo stood slowly and slipped her robe off, letting it lie where it fell. Without preamble she straddled Helens thighs and, taking the older woman's hand, she guided it between her legs. "Is that wet enough for you?" she said softly and moaned as Helen's probing fingers found the right spot.

Helen felt herself sinking into Jo. She had a sudden sensation of being swallowed whole by the sheer strength of this girl's desires. The intensity of her emotions shook her to the very core of her being so she closed her eyes and surrendered herself utterly to the pulsing waves of passion which buffeted her like a child's kite in a high wind.

Helen groaned and tried to move her head out of the direct path of the sun which was shining between the crack in the curtains and had caught her full in the face. Her head felt as if it were stuffed with lead weights.

She opened her eyes a fraction and the sunlight seemed to separate into hot shards of glass which were stabbing deep into her eyeballs without mercy. She dragged the pillow over her head and tentatively opened her eyes in the relative safety of the semi-darkness there. She held her body rigid as waves of nausea cramped her stomach. She heaved and screwed her eyes closed again, willing the pains in her head and stomach to subside.

After a few minutes she decided it was safe to move and slid out of bed to shuffle towards the bathroom.

She turned the shower on full then used the toilet. She still felt queasy but was determined not to give in to it. She stepped under the spray and the water felt like millions of tiny needles boring into her scalp. She endured it as long as she could and then turned the control to soft, still she stood there letting the water run over her head and shoulders as her stomach heaved and her head pounded.

When she felt more in control she soaped herself and then let the water wash away the suds. She stumbled from the shower and grabbed a towel which she draped carelessly around her hips and then took another to dry her hair.

She rubbed a patch of the steamed-up mirror clean with the edge of another towel and examined her face. She felt old and looked it. Her eyes were puffy and bloodshot. She stuck out her tongue but quickly put it away. It was furry and unattractive. She grabbed her toothbrush, applied a generous amount of paste, and attacked the offending organ with vigour. She rinsed the brush and then re-applied more paste to clean her teeth. She then gargled with mouthwash three times.

She was beginning to feel slightly more human again.

When she had finished her ablutions she went back into the bedroom to check the time and dress. She had suddenly remembered that she had not called Aileen last night as she had intended. She lifted the phone to call but lost her nerve before she was half way through dialing.

Best leave the explanation until she arrives home.

The lump on the bed which was Jo, stirred and a beautifully-formed leg snaked out from under the quilt then a tousled green and orange head appeared from the top end.

"Morning," she said. Her eyes were wide open and she was obviously not suffering the same after-effects as Helen. This made her feel even older.

"Listen Jo. I have to go I should have been on the road by now. The room is paid for until noon. Breakfast is also paid for. Make sure you get your money's worth." Helen ended with a lame joke. Helen went to her briefcase and took out her wallet. She opened it and quickly leafed through the notes at the back. Extracting a wad of currency she left it on the bedside table as she gently kissed Jo on the cheek.

"You have an amazing imagination to set this whole thing up. You're the stuff that fantasies are made of. See you around," she said softly as she left the room.

Finally the interminable journey was over and Helen was relived to be pulling into her own driveway. She parked the car and, leaving her luggage, went straight into the house.

Aileen threw herself into her arms as she walked through the door. "I was worried about you darling. Why didn't you call?"

"I know love. I booked into a hotel and after my shower I just fell asleep. I didn't wake until the middle of the night and I didn't want to wake you by calling then. I'm sorry."

"I was really worried that you had an accident in that terrible fog Helen."

"I'm really sorry," Helen repeated. "But I just fell asleep I was so tired."

"Oh! Never mind. Do you want some coffee."

"Yes. That would be great."

"Did you manage to see Jo?" Aileen asked as she was putting on the percolator and fetching cups.

"Yes. I saw her for a few minutes on my way through Ravenstruther."

"How is she?"

"She seemed all right."

"Did you give her any money?"

"A hundred pounds."

"Thanks darling. That was really decent of you." Aileen put her arms around Helen hugging her close.

Helen returned the hug. "I was happy to help out. Just because Henry's a loser and can't keep a job doesn't mean that your sister and the kids have to suffer."

Lorna Wilson's e-mail address is unavailable.

Click here for a list of all of Lorna Wilson's  Stories and Poetry at  Sapphic Voices Authoresses.