Sapphic Voices Romance

Portrait of a Stranger

Part One

The Mazda van reversed into the driveway, continued under the carport and parked directly next to the front door. The two men jumped out and the younger man hurried to open both the side and rear doors of the van. The older man unhurriedly approached the side window of the house and went about the business of forcing it, in the manner of one who has done it many times before.

"O.K. In you go." he mouthed. The younger man slid his slight frame through the narrow opening and quickly unlatched the door of the old federation-style house. The older man walked through the door, just as a ball of white fur launched itself through the air with a strangled yelp and closed it's teeth on the bottom of the man's jacket, grazing his thigh in the process.

His composure momentarily shaken, the man cursed and kicked out with his leg, at the same time striking the dog on the side of it's head with an open palm. The dog landed on its side but righted itself quickly, hackles raised -- and gave voice to a few, rather frightened, high-pitched yelps.

"Shut up, you bloody stupid dog!" the man snarled as he approached the slowly retreating dog. The dog reached the doorway leading to the lounge and tried to dodge inside, just as the man brought down the heavy torch. Unable to avoid the blow completely, the dog was struck a glancing blow to the side of the head.

As the dog collapsed in the doorway with blood pouring from the head wound, the older man threw instructions to his partner to bring in the boxes from the van. He picked up the scrap of bloody fur that blocked his path and threw it into the empty video recorder box he'd spotted in the lounge.

"Right, mate. Big things first into the boxes then all the small, pricey things. Be careful with the paintings -- they cost a packet. Make it snappy, she'll be home just after seven." He grabbed a couple of boxes, taking them into the main bedroom where he collected some silverware, a jewel box and the paintings off the wall.

The younger man, not as discerning as his partner, threw into the boxes everything he saw, stacking the boxes into the van as they were filled. There was only one box remaining, so he threw the last items into it and was just sliding it into the van when the older man arrived with his final box.

"That's it. Let's get the fuck outta here and for Christ's sake don't speed. We don't want the cops on our tail."

At 6.37 pm, the white Mazda van eased itself onto the road. The methodical, older man smiled to himself -- another successful job.

"It's all in the planning, son," he bragged "You've got to watch and plan --and nothing will go wrong." He frowned as he remembered the dog -- 'Bloody bitch always takes the dog with her -- always! Could've been nasty if it had been a bigger dog' he mused to himself. This minor hiccup was forgotten as he settled down for the long drive to his isolated house in Wellard. He was glad the young fella was a steady driver. He started to doze as he listened to the radio.

About forty minutes later, the younger man cocked his head, listening. 'What the hell is that noise?' he wondered. He could hear rustling and a scratching sound but, when he glanced at the man sitting next to him, it was obvious that he wasn't hearing anything as he snored rhythmically. The driver leaned forward to turn down the volume on the radio. He felt the hairs rise on the back of his neck as a keening sound started. The van swerved slightly as he looked fearfully over his shoulder.

"What the fuck …..!" his passenger woke with a start.

"Th-there's someone or something in the back -- I heard it." He stammered, as he swung the van off the highway onto the verge.

He switched off the engine and, in the silence, they both heard an unmistakable whimper. The older man exploded.

"How did that bloody dog get in here?" He turned on the internal light and looked around, immediately spotting the video box. He laughed as he realised what'd happened.

"Dickhead! I threw the dog in that box -- thought it'd karked it. Don't worry mate, I'll get rid of it." He jumped out and opened the side door, leaned in and dug his hands down through the mostly useless items that his inexperienced partner had thrown in.

"What the hell did you put all this shit in for?" He heard a low growl, "Shut up pipsqueak. I'll make sure you don't growl no more." He grabbed a handful of sticky fur and pulled the little dog from beneath all the rubbish, stepping down from the van as he did so. The dog turned its head and snapped its jaws together on the hand. The man swore and dropped the little dog, which yelped its pain as its abused, painful body met the hard earth.

"Fuck you, you little shit!" the man shouted, aiming a kick at the dog's head. This time the dog's reactions were better, as it was already up and running when the boot caught it's hip and sent it rolling over and over into the darkness.

"C'mon mate -- fun's over. Let's get the hell home." The man cradled his bleeding hand, glared once more into the darkness and climbed into the front seat looking at his watch -- 7.22pm.


JANE

I glanced at my wrist-watch as I approached the turn-off to my street - 7.22 pm. I hoped that Broughy had been OK by himself. He'd looked so sad when I'd left him earlier in the day. He didn't understand that my having a specialist appointment that day meant I couldn't take him with me, as it would have been too hot to leave him in the car. I'd promised to make it up to him.

It still seemed strange to come home to feed only Broughy and myself - even though it had been over three months since James had left. It hadn't been too bad though. Beyond the pain and hurt, there'd been a definite sense of relief and release. I knew I'd tried to make the marriage work -- Maybe I'd tried for too long. The affair that'd confronted me was not his first -- it wasn't even the first that I'd known about! My relief from his attentions in bed had, even then, been greater than my hurt at knowing he was seeing another woman.

I felt a smile tug at the corners of my mouth as I pulled into my driveway, 'Life's pretty good.' I decided.

I turned off the engine, pulled on the hand brake and switched off the lights. I leaned over to collect my purse and phone from the passenger seat and my eye was caught by a shaft of light that shouldn't have been there. My head snapped up as I realised that the front door was ajar and it was my neighbour's light I could see shining through the house.

I jumped from the car and pushed open the front door.

"Broughy!" I called, "Here boy. Come on Broughy, come to Mum." My voice dwindled away as I realised that, had he been there, he would surely have come running to me.

I looked around at the emptiness and disarray and put my head in my hands. Everything of any value had gone, including the new video recorder I'd bought the previous day. All my paintings and, worst of all, my classical guitar! I slumped into a chair and reached for the phone.


SALLY

"Well, Oscar. That's another one who doesn't know when he's well off!" I informed my cat with finality. Oscar smiled, "Don't grin at me, you unfeeling feline. When am I ever going to find someone who'll take me seriously? They all think I'm a real comedian." Oscar put on his suitably sympathetic look while I proceeded to tell him the sad tale of the demise my relationship with Chris. Oscar closed his eyes, purred his agreement then tucked his head under his armpit, letting me know in no uncertain fashion that the subject was closed -- finito!

I eyed Oscar with disgust and looked at my watch -- 7.22 pm. I made a decision. Tomorrow I was going to go to my beach house in Preston Beach and spend a couple of weeks on my latest painting assignment.

Chris totally forgotten, I turned my mind once more to the exciting, novel assignment that I'd delayed for too long, knowing it would take my full attention and interest. I knew the beach would be the best place to complete this particular painting. Once again I thanked my late parents for their legacy. It was the perfect place to paint - having a bright airy room which I used as a studio.

I thought about the project. I'd been approached by a woman who had money put aside from her 21st birthday nine years before. She'd wanted to spend it on something really special and had finally come up with the idea of commissioning a painting of Botticelli's 'The Birth of Venus' with herself as 'Venus' and her friends in the secondary roles.

I'd wanted to get to know Fiona as I did all my subjects for major assignments. In the past three months she'd been to my studio quite often. We'd talked about her and her life as a lesbian and I'd met her friends, even going out with them all for an evening. They'd insisted on taking me on a 'gay' night out and I'd actually had a great time with them, feeling surprisingly comfortable with their interaction even when, as the evening wore on, the alcohol relaxed the couples into becoming more amorous.

I'd done plenty of sketches of Fiona and, armed with these and some photographs of her and the other girls, I knew I was ready to start on the canvas.

"Yes." I told Oscar, "Tomorrow, my boy, we're off to the beach -- go pack your bags." Oscar responded by rolling over and spread-eagling his legs. As usual I couldn't resist his white, fluffy belly so, leaning over, I gave it a nuzzle. "OK -- seeing as you asked so nicely, I'll pack for you."


LORD BROUGH

I awoke with a groan, my body on fire. I hurt from head to foot -- all four of them! I'd hoped it was a bad dream, that I'd wake up next to my mum and she'd ask whether I'd caught my dream rabbit, gently making fun of my whimpers and leg twitching.

I lifted my head and cried out once more with the pain. I think of myself as being quite brave, so the cries were involuntary. I steeled myself to restrain them in future.

I looked around and saw that I had picked out a reasonably safe haven the previous night, before collapsing with exhaustion. My rear end was tucked into the bole of a tree, so attack from behind was impossible. I was quite proud of myself for thinking of that -- maybe it was 'wolf instinct'. I looked down at my body and decided ruefully, that there wasn't a lot of wolf heritage left in my breed!

Looking outward from the tree, the pale light of dawn showed that I was in a copse of trees, the sky barely visible. I heard the birds complaining of my presence, sounding quite irate.

" Sorry, birds -- I couldn't help it." I tried to recap the series of events from the previous night, in my mind.

The first part was reasonably clear, when I'd jumped at the big man and I remembered the satisfaction I'd felt as my teeth sank into his leg. The next part was pretty hazy but I know he must've hit me because when I woke I was hurting pretty badly and I thought I'd been buried alive. I'm afraid I panicked a little at first and made some noise but, as soon as I heard the men's voices, I went very quiet. Suddenly I'd been grabbed by the fur and dragged upwards, so I'd turned my head and snapped down hard on the hand that held me. The man had dropped me on the ground and I'd known I had to run. The man's boot had caught me on the hip and I'd rolled over and over into some bushes, so I'd stayed very quiet until they'd driven off.

"My Lord Brough!" I'd begun my summing up …. as, unlike other people, I always referred to myself by my full title, "You are in deep trouble!" My first thought had been to get away from the area so I'd gone deeper into the forest. My body had been hurting so much though, that I'd just wanted to lie down to recover so, when I'd spotted this tree, I'd crawled in and slept until now.

For just one second I wanted to cry. I wanted to be at home with Mum with no pain, no mud and no ….. "Oh my God - blood!" I hate blood, especially my own. Even though I felt extremely faint, I knew this wasn't the time for sensibilities. I had to try to get home but I didn't know how far I'd traveled in the van and I didn't even know which direction was home. I looked once more at my muddy coat and twitched my nose in disgust. I must have lain in something horrible.

I walked for hours, looking for a road -- in circles I began to fear. I came upon a dirt road occasionally and stopped to rest but no vehicle came along so I continued on, getting more scratched and dirty. I kept glimpsing rabbits and I knew that some dogs hunted rabbits and even ate them but the thought made me shudder. Even though I was very hungry, I could never bring myself to kill anything and, anyway, rabbits always look so cute!

I got a hell of a fright one time when the sun was high in the sky. I was walking between two bushes when something rushed out at me -- only swerving at the last moment. It was about my height, was a red colour and had a huge fluffy tail. It glared at me and, of course, I apologised for getting in his way but he sort of barked at me in irritation and went on his way.

The sun was lower in the sky when I finally stumbled upon the main road and my heart lifted as I saw how many cars were traveling in each direction. Surely one person would stop and get me back to my mum. After all, my name and address was on my collar.

'My collar! Where is it?' I remembered crawling through bushes and feeling a tug at my collar and I'd had to pull pretty hard to escape the branches. The collar must have broken at that point.

This certainly was a drawback but by no means catastrophic. I had faith that someone, somehow would restore me to my mum. I just had to get a car to stop. I sat and waited -- and waited. I realised that the cars were going too fast to see me early enough to stop, so I walked a little closer to the road. I lifted my paw -- manners never hurt -- and waited again.

It was starting to get dark when a car finally slowed down. It stopped a little way past me, so I hurried over to it just as the passenger door opened and a man jumped out. I started to climb in but the man lashed out with his foot, kicking me in the chest.

"Get outta me way, dog!" he growled before leaning over and vomiting on the ground. The all-pervading smell of alcohol hit me as I backed away.

"Hey, Brett. Grab the dog -- we can have some fun with it" was shouted by the driver. As I turned to run, the man who was still bent over, muttered,

"Get stuffed, Pete. I'm sick!"

I was shaking with the horror of it all and my chest hurt when I panted. I melted into the undergrowth, glad for the first time that my beautiful white coat was now dirty, muddy and bloody - I shuddered at the thought, "Ugh!"


JANE

It'd been a hell of a night. I picked up my early morning cup of coffee, going once more to the door to call Brough -- sure that the outcome would be the same. My shoulders were slumped as, once more, there was no response to my calls. I knew he would've been scared by the robbers and had probably run off but I'd been hoping he hadn't gone too far and would return when he heard my voice. My mind returned to the drops of blood the police had found in the hallway. I hoped that they weren't an indication that he'd been hurt.

The police had arrived promptly and had been very thorough. They'd pieced together what had happened -- how they'd broken in. The police had been contemptuous of the security in the old house, making me feel guilty that I hadn't got around to installing a good system.

"God, Mrs. Jameson. With all that silverware, jewelry, paintings etc. not to mention the music system and video recorders. Why didn't you at least have security screens with deadlocks?"

"My ex-husband was looking into the price of them and, as most of the valuables were his, I'd left it to him to arrange. The only things I'll miss are my paintings and my guitar." As I explained this to the police officer, half of my mind had wondered, yet again, why James had said I should keep everything. He'd been so proud of all his expensive possessions that I couldn't understand his seeming generosity, a trait he didn't normally have. I'd been a little suspicious of his motives but now I realised that it didn't matter anymore -- they'd all gone, with little chance of recovering them according to the police officers.

After the police had gone and I'd walked through the local streets looking for Broughy with no success, I'd rung Bobby, my 18 year old son, who was in Adelaide with the Australian Navy. He was shocked and concerned.

"Are you OK Mum? -- I mean you're there by yourself, apart from Broughy of course." I hadn't had the heart to tell him that Broughy was missing.

"Yes, love. The window's been fixed and a padlock put on the door." I reassured him, though the thought of a lonely night in a house which strangers had been through, was a bit daunting.

When I'd rung Kirsty, my 21 year old married daughter she'd offered to come and stay with me for the night but she lived a fair drive away in Rockingham and had to work the following day, so I'd refused with thanks. After I'd hung up from Kirsty, my thoughts had remained on her. She, like me, had married young: she'd been 20 -- I'd been 18. I hoped that she'd made a better choice than I had -- not that I could regret my marriage, as the children had made it worthwhile.

When I'd met James -- Jimmy then -- he'd been a rebel with charm. I, in my youthful vanity, had thought I could change him -- keep the charm but temper the rebellion. In a way I'd succeeded all too well. The charm for other women -- never me -- had increased over the years and the acquisition of a wife from a moneyed family had lifted his sights to becoming rich and successful. After a few early setbacks he'd suddenly got the desired success. He'd never told me about his business ventures.

"I want to keep my business and my family life separate." He'd always said. Occasionally, however, there'd been visitors who had appeared rather low-class and coarse. James had always whisked them away with a black frown on his face and had never answered my questions regarding them.

He'd been fanatical about buying expensive things -- everything had to be the best for him. I again puzzled over his reasons for leaving everything with me, when he knew that a property settlement would at least have shared them.

I sighed again and looked at the time -- my watch showing it was 6.30am. I knew I had to get some more sleep. I just prayed that, when I awoke again, Broughy would be on the steps waiting to come in. Before I fell asleep I wished, once more, that I'd taken him with me on the previous day.


SALLY

It had been one hell of a day. I'd intended leaving before lunch and now here it was, 5.20 pm and I still wasn't ready.

"Yes, Oscar, you can go out for a while but don't dare choose today as the day you disappear. If you're not in by the time I'm ready to leave -- I'll go without you!" I tried to bluff my feline companion. A twitch of the tail was indication enough that he didn't believe me.

The first problem had occurred when the expected deliveries hadn't arrived and I'd wasted a couple of hours chasing them up. Then the Volkswagen Beetle, my pride and joy, had decided to play up. I was able to get her fixed -- she was just being cantankerous. I normally enjoy getting under her and I keep her in good mechanical order but she does have her little idiosyncrasies and I could've done without today's little tantrum!

"Oscar!" I shouted, "I'm just going to pick up those paint supplies. I'll be thirty minutes -- be waiting for me!" I thought the assertiveness might work for a change.

When I got back forty minutes later, Oscar was stretched out on the 'Welcome' mat and I'd swear that he looked at his wrist and raised one eyebrow. 'You're just paranoid.' I told myself before scooping him up for a cuddle. We piled into the 'Vee Dub' and, after trying all the seats, including the driver's seat -- Oscar settled in one corner of the back seat and firmly closed his eyes for the journey, trusting me to deliver him safely to his favourite residence.

The trip normally takes a couple of hours of steady driving, a little longer at night. It was approaching 8pm and I was starting to feel a little sleepy when I saw, in the light of the full beam, what looked like a ball of black fluff sitting on the side of the road with one paw in the air. I braked to a halt 50 metres beyond and reversed back a bit before stopping.

"Hey, Oscar! It looks as if someone's in a spot of bother. I'll just hop out and see if I can help." I deduced by Oscar's tightly shut eyes that he had no intention of assisting me.

The little dog backed off slightly as I approached, so I dropped down onto my haunches.

"It's OK, little one. I won't hurt you." I cajoled in a soft voice. The dog stopped backing away but still looked doubtful. I had a better look at his bedraggled and muddy coat and tried again. "C'mon Scruff. Come to Mum." The words were barely out when the dog launched itself, with delighted yelps and wagging tail, into my arms -- licking, yelping and whining. "Slow down! Slow down! You're talking too fast." I tried to calm him but he was shivering with fear and excitement.

As I held him, I saw a nasty wound, surrounded by congealed blood, on the side of his head.

"You've been in the wars haven't you, Scruff?" His tail wagged once more so I guessed I'd struck lucky with his name. Looking around, there was no sign of any buildings -- no houses, farms or anything. I knew that the area was typical Australian bush land for quite a long stretch. "OK Scruff -- first things first. You come home with me, I'll clean you up, see if you need a vet and then I'll try to find your family. By the way -- do you know you smell rather horrible? Yes, I thought you probably did."

I retrieved the old blanket from the boot at the front of the V.W. and opened it out onto the front seat, putting Scruff down on it. I walked around to the driver's door, opening it just in time to hear the ominous growl and hiss from the back seat. I hurriedly slid into my seat as Oscar, with hair bristling and nose twitching, prepared to leap on his prey.

I looked at Scruff, to see he had risen to the majesty of his full height, all of twelve inches!

"No you don't, you two." I warned, "Not in my car! Look Oscar I know he's whiffy but he's injured - have some sympathy. Scruff, this is Oscar's car so he does have some rights. Please, both of you, settle down -- I've got a headache!" This last was said with some asperity and I saw two sets of eyes looking at me in surprise at my sharp tone. Oscar knew that a 'headache' was really bad, so even he refrained from hassling me at those times. I was surprised though to see the understanding in Scruff's face as he subsided onto his seat. "I'll bet you've got a 'mum' too." I wagered.

Peace restored I started the car. There was only half an hour's drive to go. I wondered what to do with the little scrap. He was a real cutie and I was sure somebody must be missing him.


LORD BROUGH {SCRUFF}

I awoke to the sound of a low growl and an aggressive hiss. I instantly remembered what'd happened the night before and knew that the sound was coming from that bossy feline. He had told me in no uncertain fashion that I was not welcome and, if his mum allowed me to stay for a while, then I'd better learn right from the start that this was his house and he was the boss. I'd been tired and sore, so I hadn't argued with him but maybe now was the time to assert my canine authority.

I stood up and was rather dismayed to realise that this huge cat towered over me. I remained undaunted.

"Excuse me." I said politely but firmly. "I happen to be a guest in your house and I find your attitude extremely rude. My name is Lord Brough and, being a dog, it goes without saying that my authority extends to you. I realise that it is your house and your mum, so I will respect your likes and wishes as long as you accord me the respect that is my due."

Feeling that I'd dealt with the situation very well I was totally unprepared for the ….. "Bullshit!" this foul-mouthed feline threw at me. I saw him begin to close on me and I took a step back, thinking that prudence was needed in this situation. I tried again.

"My good man. I was not trying to usurp your position. I was merely ….. " the paw caught me across the face. I didn't even see it move. I just thanked my lucky stars that his claws were still sheathed.

"Listen, buddy and listen well. I don't understand half of what you just said, with all your fancy words -- but get this through your smelly, dirty head that nobody tells me what to do in my own house. Just keep your long words to yourself, know your place -- and for goodness sake wash yourself, you stink!" With a last growl and a twitch of his tail he turned and stalked off.

"Well, I thought I handled that quite well in the circumstances." I decided. My nose twitched at the unmistakable smell that was emanating from my haunches. Oscar's mum had bathed my head the night before and cleaned up my wound but, as it'd been late and the water hadn't heated up, she'd decided to leave my bath until today. I do hope she hurries.

It was funny. I didn't know her but she certainly knew me, even though she didn't say 'Broughy' quite right. I wondered when my mum would be coming to get me. I liked Oscar's mum; she had very gentle hands and a lovely voice. I hoped I'd see lots of her once I got home.

I heard the sound of her moving around and then approaching the sleepout where she'd organised my bed. I'd thought it would be rude to point out to her that I was more used to sleeping indoors, generally in my mum's bedroom. I'll let her know tonight if necessary.

Oscar's Mum opened the door and immediately held her nose.

"God! Oscar's right -- you do stink! Come on Scruff. Let's get you bathed and see what colour you are. I've got no idea what breed you are -- pretty much a bitser I'd say. I've already been to the store to use the phone, to put an ad in Sunday's paper."

She bathed me, shampooing my hair and gradually the whiteness became more evident. I didn't allow the insult to my heritage to bother me, as it was confusing to most humans. My mother, bless her, is a champion Bichon Frieze and my dad, though I never met him, was the Poodle, Shih Tzu cross from down the street. The result being the very attractive combination that my new friend was now starting to appreciate -- going by all the 'oohs' and 'ahhs' she was emitting.

We had breakfast and I looked around the house. It was bright and cheerful and, when I went outside, I found it stood all by itself with no other houses in sight. I recognised the smell of the ocean and could see sand hills so I guessed the ocean was on the other side of them. My friend told me that it was very quiet here with hardly any traffic. She explained that the house was generally open, so I could roam inside and outside at will but I wasn't to go far away. Luckily I could fit through the cat door so I wouldn't need to ask each time I wanted to come in or go out.

She said she'd be trying to find my family which confused me a little as I thought she knew us. She explained to me that she didn't have a phone and very rarely saw a newspaper while she was down here. She said she'd go to the store and ring a vet close by where she found me and ask if they could put up a notice that I'd been found. I knew that it wouldn't work as I'd been pretty far from home when she'd picked me up but I didn't argue with her -- that wouldn't have been polite after all her kindness. I believed that she would soon find my mum so I decided to spend the time exploring the house and surroundings. I looked up at her and saw the kind face and couldn't resist a quick lick. 'Mmm, she tastes nice!' I decided.


JANE

The phone rang and I glanced at the clock -- it was 7.25am. I'd been laying in bed willing the phone to ring with the message that somebody had found Broughy, so I snatched it up,

"Hello - Jane here." My heart sank as I heard James's voice. I'd rung and told him about the break-in on Friday and at first he'd sounded shocked at the news but soon became businesslike.

"Have you reported it to the insurance company yet? Have you made a list?"

This was the fourth time he'd called -- not with concern for myself or Broughy -- but to add items which I'd forgotten to the list and to give me valuations of various items which he'd originally purchased. He'd also shocked me by saying that he should get half of the insurance money. I'd pointed out that he'd said that I could keep everything but he'd denied it, insisting he'd meant for me to keep everything at the house until arrangements could be made to split them.

I'd been surprised by his dismissal of the chances of recovering anything.

"Not a chance." He'd stated, "It'll all be long gone by now. The cops haven't a hope in hell of catching them." I hoped he was wrong -- I really loved my guitars and I missed my renaissance paintings, the only items that I could really call my own.

I listened to him now while he suggested I also add imaginary items to the list to boost the pay out figure. I snorted with disgust and gave him my short, succinct answer and hung up.

I lay in bed wondering if there was anything else I could do to find Brough. I recapped all the things I'd done so far :- On Friday, I'd put an ad in the daily paper and Sunday's paper. I'd gone to three local vets and put up 'Lost dog' notices. I had been sure that I would hear from someone knowing his whereabouts on Friday or Saturday but nobody had rung, so Kirsty had come to my house on Saturday and we'd printed notices on the PC and had walked the neighbourhood pinning them on power poles and trees.

I'd pored over Saturday's lost and found pets section in the paper and I'd already checked the paper this morning. There were 'found' birds, cats, a German Shepherd, a Blue Heeler and a black and white bitser found near Rockingham. Sighing again with disappointment, I knew it was going to be a lonely Sunday.

My mind drifted aimlessly back to James and our doomed marriage. Now that it was finished I could wonder how I'd stuck it out for so long. I pondered whether the reason could've just been the need to have a man in my life, so that I had an escort for various functions. I'd since found out that I had no need for a permanent partner as I'd been inundated with offers, sometimes for functions, sometimes for a lot more. I hadn't been able to generate much enthusiasm for any of these would-be lovers, even though it had been a number of years since I'd had sex.

I wondered once more why I hadn't enjoyed sex with James. I'd been a virgin when we'd first met and though, at first, he'd tried to please me -- he never actually had done. He'd never seemed to touch the right places, though I'd tried to show him. He'd been adamant that he didn't want to talk about what we did and that the fault must be mine as he'd never had a problem pleasing other women. After a few years and the birth of the two children it had become a distasteful chore and, even now, the thought of intercourse was abhorrent. I always enjoyed the company of the men who escorted me to any work and social functions: but I hadn't met anyone who made my pulse quicken, so I'd continued to release my own sexual tensions, knowing that I at least knew where the arousal points were!


SALLY

I awoke on Wednesday morning to the feeling of a rough little tongue licking my face.

"Scruff!" How many times do I have to tell you that my bed -- is not your bed! Stop grinning at me you bad dog!" I stroked the elusive spot behind his ears while I spoke. "It's no wonder nobody's claimed you yet; you listen carefully to instructions, then do whatever you want to do -- and stop wagging your tail, I'm chastising you!"

I looked at his gleaming white coat and promised myself once more that I'd have to put another ad in the paper. This time I would have to report that it was a white dog I'd found -- not black and white as I'd put in when I'd rung it through on Friday from the local store.

I'd bought Sunday's paper and looked through the 'lost and found' section but there'd been nothing about a lost dog in the Kwinana or Rockingham area. Since then, I'd been immersed in my painting and Scruff had appeared very happy to be here and had seemed to fit in well, though I did have recurring guilt feelings at the thought of a family missing him.

I decided to wait until the following day to put in another ad so that I could add a phone number. The Telstra installer was due tomorrow -- I'd finally succumbed to pressure from friends to have a phone put in.

I grabbed pen and paper and started to compose the ad. 'Found Thursday night in bushland between Kwinana and Rockingham. Small white fluffy dog of unknown origin. Seems to answer to 'Scruff'. Loads of personality. Lifts left paw to say "Please". Please ring ………… if Scruff belongs to you.'

Happy with this, I again put it to the back of my mind as I dressed and wandered into the studio. I studied what was on the canvas and was happy with the background, the colours particularly pleasing me. I held the photographs and studied the lines of the breasts and hips - comparing them with the strokes on the canvass -- 'Not bad' I decided. I looked again at the photographs of Fiona and her friends and my mind wondered, not for the first time, what their lovemaking consisted of and what it was like to touch another woman -- surely there'd be something missing! A lot softer, I decided, maybe gentler -- not as urgent. I guessed that they'd have a better idea of what would please their partner, not like most of the men I'd slept with! What would it be like to cup a breast in your hand rather than feel a man's hard chest. I realised my hand was cupping my own breast and it felt nice - but was the sensation coming from the breast being held or the hand doing the holding? I couldn't tell. What I did feel though was a familiar warm feeling. I laughed a little shakily before putting all sexual thoughts behind me and turning my mind back to work.


LORD BROUGH {SCRUFF}

A man came today and I was a little worried until Sally, my new friend, explained that he was just putting the telephone in. I still haven't seen my mum, it's been so long now. Sally is really great. I love the way she pretends to tell me off with that little smile on her face. She talks to Oscar and I all the time. Oh yes -- Oscar! We seem to have a truce going ……Well, it's more that I keep out of his way as much as possible. He's got such strange habits! During the day he sleeps a fair bit but at night! Well, he just likes to stalk everything that moves! It doesn't matter if it flies, crawls or scampers, Oscar chases it and, mostly, manages to catch it. He then has the nasty habit of playing with whatever he's captured, sometimes scaring it to death! I'm only glad that he doesn't then actually eat it! ……..Ugh!!

Sally used the phone today to place a notice in the newspaper to see if we can find my mum. I made a mistake when I thought Sally knew me. It was just that she said what I thought was my name ….. but Oscar has since taken delight in telling me that what she actually said was that I looked 'scruffy' -- she hadn't actually said 'Broughy'. I did forgive her for that, as I must admit I was rather dirty and uncombed when she first saw me. I'm happy to say she's learned fast and she now combs me every night.

I've found some great spots in my explorations and I also have a bathe in the ocean sometimes. I've really enjoyed it here -- I hope Mum brings me often, once we've found her. There are a few resident dogs in the neighbourhood and they're mostly friendly, with just one or two exceptions. Some of them are a little coarse but there are a few highly bred types around -- but don't they know it! The poodle which lives near the shop is a prime example. Absolutely up himself he is -- but he is ever so handsome, so I like to spend time with him. A couple of the lady dogs have been making eyes at me but I've tried to explain, with tact, that I'm not interested. I think I must be a real dog's dog. I have much more fun when I'm out with the boys.

There's a bad tempered ornery type who has given me a hard time. He says he wants to fight -- ugh! Oscar actually helped me out yesterday after this dog became more aggressive than normal. Oscar came up behind him with his back and tail magnificently bushed out and snarled at the nasty dog. It was quite unnerving to hear his high-pitched keening -- I was heartily glad that it wasn't me in his firing line. He took a few steps towards my adversary, spat in his face and then chased after the rotter as he turned and fled. I tried to express my gratitude to Oscar but he told me to 'button it' -- he'd enjoyed it!

"Mind you," he'd told me "I didn't do it for you -- you poof. I did it so's not to cause Mum any grief -- got it?" Ignoring the intended insult I just nodded and told him that I appreciated it immensely anyway.

"Oh God! Shuttup you little ponce" was thrown at me over his shoulder as he sauntered away.


JANE

I walked into the house on Friday afternoon with the daily paper tucked under my arm. It had been an especially hard day at the end of a hard week. I'd missed Broughy sitting next to me as I drove all day. The new security system had been installed which had meant my taking some time off work, resulting in a build up which I had finally cleared.

Opening the paper to the 'lost and found pets' section, my eye was caught immediately by a new ad which, somehow, looked familiar. My heart started pounding as I read it because, though the location where the dog was found appeared wrong, the description was right -- especially the lifting of the left paw. It was possible that the finder didn't recognise the breeds in Lord Brough, therefore thinking he was a mixed breed dog.

Grabbing the phone, I dialed the given number. After a few rings the answering machine was activated and a voice stated "God -- I hate these things but, as I may be out or working hard when you call -- and you may be a real hunky guy -- I had it installed. Whether or not you're a hunky guy -- please leave your name and number and I'll return your call. Bye for now."

I was a little taken aback by the message but I left my details, saying that I was ringing about the dog and I really hoped it was my Broughy she'd found.

I made and ate my dinner, keeping the phone close by. I was relaxing with a glass of sherry when the phone rang and I grabbed up the receiver. The same husky -- but this time out of breath -- voice told me her name was Sally and she apologised for not being home when I'd called but she'd taken 'Scruffy' out for a walk, which had turned into a jog. My heart sank a little at these words because I couldn't picture Lord Brough out 'jogging'.

I explained that I lived to the north of Perth and that I'd been burgled the previous Thursday and Broughy had gone missing, so I couldn't really imagine that she would be picking him up so far south of Perth. Sally answered that she'd found Scruff on Friday evening and he'd been very dirty and bloody. My heart dropped at the mention of blood.

"But he's OK isn't he?" still not knowing if it was my Broughy we were talking about. Sally laughed,

"Oh he's fine now, he's lording it over the household -- except Oscar of course!"

"Who's Oscar?"

"He's my very independent cat -- very bossy, very supercilious but very lovable."

My eyebrows lifted at this description, not imagining Broughy being able to reside with such a feline.

"You said in the ad something about him lifting his left paw?" I prompted.

"Yes, that's right. Very polite little man he is. When he wants something, up comes the left paw and he'll always give you a 'thank you' lick. He even thumbed a lift from me by lifting his left paw.

My mind balked a little at this but I let it pass.

"How will we know if it's Broughy or not?" was my overriding question.

"Does he know your voice over the phone?" Sally asked.

"No, of course not. I've never spoken to him over the phone." I was a little exasperated. Sensing my impatience Sally's voice took on a note of cajolery.

"Let's just try it anyway. I'll bring him to the phone and you talk to him and I'll look for his reaction. Let's just give it a go."

I acceded, even though I felt a little foolish. Sally came back on the line.

"Here he is." I cleared my throat and called to him.

"Broughy. Is that you, Brough? This is Mum" I warmed to the task "Broughy, wag your tail for Sally if it's you. Come on Broughy, it's Mum here."

I heard little yelps and whimpers from the other end of the line and heard Sally's delighted, husky laugh.

"You should see him. He's going mad, he's so excited. He's trying to get into the earpiece and is yelping at the same time. He's got a grin so wide.

Her excitement was catching and my voice rose an octave or two.

"Really? Does he really know me? Yes, I can hear it's him. Is he really grinning? He's done so occasionally in the past." Tears were streaming down my face and my voice broke. "Oh Brough, Brough. I've missed you so much."

A calming, voice from the other end of the phone soothed.

"Hey, love, calm down. I'm positive it's your Broughy. There's no need to cry now. You'll get him back very soon. Come on, dry your eyes. Hey! I don't even know your name." I took a shaky breath.

"Jane. My name's Jane Jameson and thank you so much for picking him up, Sally. I don't know how he got so far south and I'll probably never know but thank you so much for stopping for him."

"It's been a real pleasure having him here. I'll really miss him. Now, about re-uniting you both. I'm pretty busy down here at the moment. It would be late next week before I could get away but you're very welcome to come down here any time to get him. It's a bit of a drive -- probably two to three hours from your house so, if you plan to come -- stay for lunch, to have a break before the drive back. What do you say?"

"That sounds terrific. Could I come down on Sunday? I'll leave early and be down there before lunch. I won't stay long -- I don't want to disturb you if you're busy."

"No -- that's cool. Come down Sunday and stay for lunch. I can leave the painting for a while. I just can't leave it for a full day."

"You paint? That sounds great. What do you paint? Landscapes? Portraits? I'm not really up with the art scene but I do like certain things. The worst thing about the burglary was the theft of my paintings."

"Yes, I'm an artist," Sally answered my questions. "I specialise in portraits but my greatest love is Renaissance painting …..." I interrupted her, lacking my usual manners.

"Wow! That's a coincidence. Renaissance art is my favourite. Would you allow me to see some of your work when I'm down there?" I was as enthusiastic as I no doubt sounded.

"Sure, I'd love to show a fellow enthusiast. I can't show you the portrait I'm working on at present, as that would be unethical but I'll tell you all about it. It's exciting and totally fascinating. I think you'll find the concept very interesting."

I was feeling euphoric at the thought of seeing Broughy and Sally's voice was both soothing and stimulating. I looked forward to meeting her and, as I hung up the phone after getting directions and saying our good-byes, I felt a warm glow inside.

Finishing my second sherry, I showered and went to bed still full of well being. I was so happy at the prospect of seeing Broughy and I was looking forward to meeting Sally. My hands traveled across my body and I suddenly felt a need I hadn't felt for a long time -- a craving for release. 'It's the relief.' I told myself as my hands found the more intimate places which they knew so well. I wondered again why I'd never experienced this warm glow at my core when I'd been with James. My mind flitted once more to the recent phone conversation and I heard again Sally's voice telling me about Broughy and Oscar and her paintings. The prospect of seeing the paintings was stimulating but all thought went out of my head as the built-up tensions of the last week drained away in the throes of orgasm.

As my eyes became heavy and began to close I heard again Sally's husky laugh and knew I was going to get on well with her. I needed someone to laugh with, even if it was only for one day.


SALLY

I hung up the phone and looked at Scruff's -- no …… Brough's expectant face and was torn between pleasure at finding Brough's family and sadness that he'd be leaving. I'd really got used to him being around and I knew I'd miss him heaps.

"Hey, Broughy! We've found your Mum -- how about that then? She's coming to get you on Sunday. We'll have to give you a bath and get you looking beautiful." He raised his eyebrows, "Sorry! I mean more beautiful!"

I thought about Jane's reaction at knowing she'd found her dog and I couldn't begrudge her pleasure. She'd sounded like a pleasant lady, a little stiff at first but she'd really shown emotion when she's heard Broughy's voice. I decided that it'd be interesting to meet her, especially with her interest in art. I wondered, like Jane, how Broughy had managed to get so far from his house. Obviously it'd been in a vehicle. I wondered if it could've been the burglar's vehicle.

"But why would they take you away with them? And why would they dump you?" I asked Broughy. "No, it's no good barking at me. I'm trying hard but I still can't understand you!"

I drained my can of beer and thought again about Jane's well modulated voice. It was very easy on the ear. Her tears had been most touching, I'd wanted to reach down the phone and stroke her hair. I wondered what colour hair she had as I ran my hands through my own dark hair, trying once more to make up my mind whether to grow it long. I loved long hair on women but I knew my habit of playing with my own hair would leave it constantly tousled, so I decided, with regret, to leave it short and deny myself the pleasure of running fingers through long hair. I'd just have to continue to dream about it.

I decided to have an early night so I showered and hopped into bed.

"Move over Oscar! You can't take up the whole bed." I pushed him to one side then felt the impact as another body jumped on the bed. "Broughy! You know you're not supposed to be up here. No! Stop licking me. I know you're excited but ….oh, all right then -- but give me enough space both of you."

Broughy knew I'd given permission, so he obediently moved to the bottom of the bed and, after circling a couple of times, found just the right spot to curl up in. Oscar lifted his head, gave a bad tempered spit and went back to sleep. I lay there for a long time, my mind mulling over the painting. This led me once more to think about the models and their lifestyle. I drifted off to sleep hearing Fiona telling me again that there's nothing to beat making love to a woman -- but that melodic voice wasn't Fiona's, whose was it? ….

I awoke on Saturday morning with a start. I'd been dreaming of running my fingers through long, blonde hair. I hadn't been able to see the face but, from the scent of 'Paris', I'd known it was a woman. My fingers had tightened on the hair and I'd gently pulled her closer. My eyes had focused on a mouth, the full lips slightly parted as I drew her ever closer. Just as our lips were about to meet she spoke,

"Broughy, Broughy, I've missed you so much." My mouth covered hers and I felt I was sinking into the softness as her lips slowly moved against mine.

My senses returning, I found my heart was pounding, my breathing had quickened and the dream was vivid in my mind. I lay there wishing I could fall back to sleep -- fall back into the dream. I'd had similar, jumbled dreams before but never so real and never so physical. I'd passed them off in the past as just being the combination of jumbled thought, so now I prepared to dismiss this dream as the result of my new friends' lifestyle, the painting I was doing and the recent call to Jane. I still wished I could continue with it but I was now well awake. I looked to the bottom of the bed and smiled as I saw that Oscar had adjusted his position during the night and was now sleeping with his head resting against Broughy's tummy. They looked very cosy together. I wondered what would happen when they woke up.


LORD BROUGH

I woke up and realised I was in big trouble. Somehow during the night either Oscar or I must have moved and he was now fast asleep curled up against my middle and I really don't want to move and wake him. I lifted my head and saw Sally watching us. She just laughed and told me it was my problem. I decided to sleep on it, so I dozed off again.

The second time I woke, it was to the feel of a small, rough tongue licking my paw and a gruff, little voice grumbling that dogs never cleaned themselves. I guessed that he was a little embarrassed at having cuddled up to me during the night, so I simply thanked him for his trouble and gently extricated myself from the vicinity of his sharp claws.

I padded up the bed to Sally and licked her face to say 'Good morning'.

"Thank you, Broughy. I'm going to miss that a lot when your mum takes you home." Well, of course she'll miss it but we'll get together again pretty ……."I can't believe I won't ever see you again after tomorrow. I've really enjoyed having you around."

What does she mean she won't see me again? I have to see her again! I like her! My mind was racing as I pondered the situation. I decided that it was because Mum and Sally didn't know each other. I knew them both and liked them both so it was logical to presume that they would like each other when they met. However, people can be so strange, they may not make any plans to meet again. I decided I'd have to put my brain to work and make some plans.

After breakfast I wandered outside and saw Oscar lying in the shade and decided to ask him if he had any ideas. I'd have to tell him all about Mum first to make him want to see more of her as well.

For once, Oscar was in a mellow mood, so he listened intently to me. He asked a few questions then said he had the perfect plan. He told me about it but I was a bit doubtful, it didn't seem too fair on my mum and I wasn't too keen on my role -- I'd taken quite an aversion to the dark.

"Well, if you're going to be a scaredy-dog about it ….." Oscar started with a voice dripping with contempt.

"No, no! I'm not but ….. how come you get all the cuddles?"

"Well it damn well wouldn't work the other way round, would it!" I had to agree with him, so I prepared myself for my part in the plan and thanked Oscar for his help.

"No worries, mate."


SUNDAY 11AM

The well dressed man sipped on his Johnny Walker Black Label on ice, then spoke to the older man.

"Well, you seem to have covered your tracks pretty well. You've got all my stuff in storage?" The other man nodded.

"Yep. Your stuff's in your storage unit, here's the key. The paintings have been put away -- they'd be too easy to recognise at the moment. The other rubbish which the young fella picked up is being taken to the bush and sold privately."

"That's good. Keep whatever cash you get for it. Just don't sell them in the metro area. She might just stumble across something she recognises. What the fuck happened about the dog? She's going frantic with worry. She doesn't care about all the other stuff -- just her damn dog!"

"Got no idea mate." the other man lied. "Little bugger was petrified. Ran out the front door and that was the last we saw of him."

"OK, off you go. Don't approach me for a couple of months at least." He got a nod in reply. It was fine by the older man if he never saw the tight-fisted bastard again. He hadn't even been offered a drink!


JANE

I looked at my watch -- 11am. Almost there. I hadn't realised it was so far off the main highway. I saw the general store and followed Sally's directions up the steep hills. Sally had said it was a beach shack but, as I located the number, I realised that that was quite an understatement. I would've called it a cottage with extensions and very pretty as well. There were spare blocks all around it so it was quite isolated.

I pulled into the driveway, braking sharply to a stop in my impatience. I jumped out of the car to the sound of excited yelps, turning just in time to put out my arms, as Broughy launched himself into my them. Fleetingly my mind registered that Bobby would be happy, as he'd been trying to teach Broughy to do that for years.

As I hugged Broughy my eyes lifted to the doorway where Sally was standing. I took in her huge grin at our pleasure and I noted that she was medium height, had short, dark hair and was dressed in T-shirt and shorts. My first thought was 'Nice legs.' I don't know why -- but I've always noticed and appreciated nice legs on a woman.

"Hi. I think you might just be Jane." She spoke in her distinctive voice. "Either that or I'll really have to teach Broughy not to throw himself in the arms of every passing woman!"

"Yes," I laughed, "I'm Jane and you, of course, are Sally. Thank you again for stopping for him. I really can't thank you enough."

Sally held her hands up defensively -- indicating she'd had all the thanks she needed. She invited me in, telling me that the kettle had just boiled. Over our tea she told me all about finding Broughy and the week's happenings since then. She made it sound very amusing and kept me laughing but I saw, below the humour, the love and care she'd given to Broughy.

Brough kept going from one to the other, pushing his nose in, demanding to be stroked. I realised he was going to miss Sally and I mentioned it to her. Her smile slipped a little.

"Yes, I'm going to miss the little tyke too -- but look how happy he is to see you. Looking on the bright side, Oscar will be happy to see the back of him."

Just on cue - a huge cat, which I presumed to be Oscar, stalked through the door. His coat was black and glossy, showing his white throat up to perfection. He walked up to Broughy and my heart was in my mouth as he lifted a white-tipped paw but he just patted Broughy's head as if to say "Cool it, kid -- so much excitement is just not cool!" What was more unbelievable was that Broughy obeyed immediately, even going so far as to give the paw a quick lick. I looked up to see Sally's wide, disbelieving eyes before she chuckled,

"Well, I'll be …..!"

I leaned forward, holding out my hand and calling to Oscar. Sally shook her head.

"He's a bit suspicious with strangers -- very wary and distrustful." Just to prove her wrong, Oscar wandered over to me, sniffed at my fingers -- in case I was actually offering food -- and jumped onto my lap, proceeding to curl up and make himself comfortable.

Sally couldn't believe it. She told me he had never done that in his life. It was obvious that their whole behaviour was baffling her but I felt quite honoured at being singled out by Oscar and I felt I'd risen in Sally's estimation.

We chatted comfortably about a number of different subjects -- the burglary, my missing paintings and her art. We discussed several countries we'd both visited and described others, which only one of us had seen. She was very easy to talk to. I liked her sense of humour and the way her grey eyes looked straight at me as we talked. She was both interesting and interested and it came as a surprise when she looked at her watch and exclaimed at the time.

"My God! It's a quarter past two and I haven't given you lunch yet. The time's just flown. You should have said something!" I smiled in delight,

"Yes -- I can just see me saying, 'Oh, excuse me -- you haven't given me lunch yet.' I don't think! Seriously -- it's been so interesting that I didn't notice the time -- but now you mention it …...! I'll come in and give you a hand."

We buttered fresh, crusty bread, shared the prepared salad between two plates and cut us both some cheese and cold meat. Sally checked with me that it wasn't too early in the day, then poured us each a white wine.

Over lunch, Sally started to tell me about her latest assignment and I was fascinated with the story -- and the subject.

"What a terrific idea. It would certainly be a special belated birthday present. How do you get the likeness? Has she sat for you or have you photographs to work from?"

"A bit of both. I'm studying the photos at present but I've done sketches while she's posed. You understand that I can't show you any of it, don't you? Not only is it unethical but most of the poses are nudes."

I felt my face grow warm as a blush crept up on me. The mention of nudes and the previous reference to the fact that they were lesbians was a bit disconcerting. My mental pictures of lesbians were big, butch women in leather and chains and that didn't seem to gel with the perceived idea of 'Venus'. I asked, a little tentatively, if their appearance fitted in with Botticelli's idea of Venus. Sally laughed.

"Jane. Some of these women are gorgeous! Fiona herself is really attractive, with a great figure. Don't get preconceived ideas about lesbians, they could be anyone. They could be you -- or me for that matter."

Whilst I was digesting this information, the sound of a car pulling up outside distracted me. At the sound of female voices Sally wondered aloud who it could be. She reached the door just as a firm rap summoned her. As she opened the door, she was greeted with gleeful greetings.

"Surprise, surprise!" I watched as two of the women each wrapped Sally in a bear hug and planted firm kisses on her cheek. The third woman's kiss was more gentle, feathery almost and it was placed close to Sally's mouth.

Sally appeared taken aback, either by the surprise visit, or by the familiar greeting by the three women. She pulled herself together quickly.

"What a surprise. Come in, please. Meet Jane Jameson. Jane, this is Fiona, Barbara and," indicating the woman whose greeting had seemed more personal, "Deborah."

"No, no call me Deb. Hello Jane it's nice to meet you." Deb spoke in a cultured, clipped voice which belied her casual appearance and the slow, sensuous way she made her way across the room to offer her hand for a brief handshake.

Fiona and Barbara chorused their greetings, striding across to me to bestow firm handshakes, while Sally was explaining who, exactly, I was and why I was there.

"Oh, I've heard all about the little tyke. I'm glad Sally was able to find his owner. Now perhaps she can concentrate on the business at hand." This was said with such a cheeky look at Sally that I warmed to the teasing sound in her voice. There'd been too little teasing in my life.

Sally gave Fiona a playful punch to the arm.

"You know you have to wait on the artists inspiration -- we can't just paint to order. We artists are not mere mortals, you know!" The raspberry from Fiona was indication enough of what she thought of that comment.

As they laughed together Sally turned to me to explain that these were the subjects of her latest project. This explanation having just dawned on me, I was able to maintain my composure as I said I'd already guessed who they were. My eyes continued to take in the good looks of the trio. Though Barbara's dark beauty had a slightly masculine quality to it, Fiona and Deb's looks were all woman. Both sported shoulder-length hair but, whereas Fiona's looks were soft and pretty, Deb appeared harder and more classically beautiful.

I saw Sally watching me as she guessed I was sizing up the newcomers and readjusting my concept of gay women. I shrugged slightly and smiled my apology - and acceptance of her previous words.

"So, can we see it? How far from completion is it?" Fiona demanded to know.

"Yes, you can see it and it's a few days from completion. Next weekend should see it finished." Fiona looked around, "Great - we'll come down for it ….. and have a party!", she flashed a speculative smile at Sally. "Yep. It'd be a great place for a party.." Sally shook her head and laughed.

"You're incorrigible but yes -- by all means come down, have your party and, if there's not too many of you, sleep the night. I have plenty of beds around the place."

"Great! You're on. Now -- show me your masterpiece, Ms. Botticelli. You coming to see it Jane?

"I'd really love to, if it's all right with you." I was delighted by the invitation.

We went to the rear of the house and entered a bright, airy studio. The focal point was the canvas, propped up on the easel. I stood in front of it - mesmerised.


SALLY

When the car had pulled up I hadn't known who it could be. As I opened the door and was confronted with Fiona and her friends I was delighted to see them. As usual Fiona's and Barbara's greetings had been robust but I'd been a little taken aback by the intimacy of Deb's greetings. I'd felt the soft pressure of breasts against my own and, as she'd put her hand on my arm, I'd been very aware of her body. Her kiss had seemed somewhat intrusive and I hoped she hadn't noticed that I'd pulled away rather quickly. Surely Fiona had told them all that I wasn't gay.

Now, as I watched everybody looking at the painting, I started to examine my reaction to the embrace. I know I felt embarrassed that it'd happened in front of Jane. I had no wish for her to think I was anything other than straight. I'd felt both pleasure and revulsion at Deb's touch. The softness had a pleasant feel about it but there had been something about Deb that I hadn't really liked from the start, so I hadn't wanted to be in such close proximity to her.

I glanced at her now, wondering what it was I disliked about her. The only clue was that she hadn't seemed as genuine or natural as the other girls, as if she was only playing at being gay - maybe for the kicks. I'd been surprised that she'd accompanied the other two on their trip down, as she wasn't a close friend of Fiona's and wasn't even in the painting.

I looked now at the expressions on the faces of the women as they looked at the painting. Fiona's and Barbara's were obviously delighted, which pleased me. Deb looked a little bored, 'Just why did she come down here then?' I wondered. I looked across at Jane and studied her while her attention was on the painting. There was a rapt _expression on her smooth, oval face. Her green eyes were lit with pleasure and her full lips were slightly parted. I had a sudden thought that this was how she would look when she made love. Her hands were clasped in front of her breasts and her fair hair was cascading around her shoulders. The thought was just starting to form ….'I wonder what it would feel l…' when I felt a hand on my hip and a cool voice pronounced,

"It's a magnificent painting. Absolutely terrific, darling. I'm just going to have to commission you to paint me. That would be so exciting, wouldn't it?" I turned and felt the hand brush my buttocks. 'She's definitely coming on to me.' I decided. I moved away slightly.

"Well Deb, I've got a couple already booked following this one and they'll take a couple of months, so if you can get back to me then, we'll talk about it."

I saw that Jane's attention had left the canvas and she was watching Deb and I. My face became warm with embarrassment. She smiled at me as if in understanding and I felt the corners of my mouth curl up in response.

The next hour or so passed in pleasant conversation. Each time I went into the kitchen to make snacks or get drinks, Sally offered to help. She seemed to be getting on well with the unexpected visitors, Fiona and Barbara in particular. On the fourth such trip, it suddenly became apparent that she was protecting me! I was touched by her perception and concern and I was grateful that she'd possibly averted a tete-a-tete between Deb and I.

As the sun started to dip down behind the trees everyone started talking about making a move, as it was a long trip home. I looked again at Oscar, draped across Jane's lap and shook my head once more in disbelief. He had acted true to form with the other women, avoiding them completely but he'd continued to follow Jane around, rubbing up against her legs when she was standing and alternating with Broughy on her knee when she was sitting. I looked around,

"Where's Broughy?"

"I don't know. He was here a couple of minutes ago because I was telling him it was almost time to go and then Oscar jumped up and literally pushed him off."

"He'll be back soon, he doesn't stay out for long, especially in the evening. I think he's still rather frightened of the dark after his experience. Don't tell him I told you though. He'd think it was a slur on his manhood!"

As Jane chuckled her appreciation of my comment, the other women rose.

"Well, sweetheart. We have to love and leave you. Nice to meet you Jane, hope you don't have to wait too long for the tyke to return." Fiona gave me a hug, "Great job with the picture. I'm over the moon with it. I'll ring you about next weekend."

Jane and I stood on the verandah waving them off and then started calling to Broughy. Jane was looking worried so I gave her a quick hug.

"There's no need for concern. Nothing can happen to him here, he'll soon be back. Let's have another cuppa."

Half an hour later, Broughy still not having returned, I made us some dinner, after persuading Jane that it would be better for her to eat before she left, rather than cooking when she arrived home. To take her mind off her worry, I asked where the name 'Broughy' came from.

"There was a poem I read as a teenager which stuck in my mind. It was about a Lord Brough who needed more love in his life because he didn't get enough. He had very light, wavy hair and, when we first saw Broughy it brought the character of the poem to mind. James wasn't interested in what we were going to call him and the children couldn't think of an alternative so Lord Brough he became - and, of course, Broughy for short."

"Well, he's being a very naughty Broughy at the moment." I observed.

Jane looked at her watch in agitation, so I made a suggestion.

"Listen Jane. I know you have to work early in the morning, so you can't be too late home. How about leaving Broughy here for now and come down next weekend - and this time stay overnight. If you come on Saturday you can help me keep these other women in check! Then you can drive home on Sunday and this time we'll tie his lordship up so he can't tease us."

Jane looked pleased with the invitation and, though disappointed at not taking Broughy home this weekend, wasn't upset about him staying an extra week,

"Especially now that I know where he is and that he's happy."

Jane did add the proviso that if Broughy arrived back within about twenty minutes of her leaving, I was to ring her on her mobile and she'd come back for him.

We went out into the night and Jane asked, with worry still in her voice,

"Are you sure he'll be OK? He'll find his way back?"

"Yes, I'm sure. Don't worry. I'll ring you on the mobile when the wanderer returns."

"Thanks so much Sally. It's been great meeting you. I've had a lovely day. I love your painting, I may even commission you to do a similar one for me."

"That'd be great. I'd enjoy that. I've nothing booked for after this. We'll talk more about it."

Jane raised her eyebrows but didn't query my statement. It was only later that I remembered my little white lie to Debbie.

I waved to Jane as she drove away, looking forward to seeing her again the following weekend.


LORD BROUGH

From my vantage point, just inside the tree line, I watched as my mum drove off. I'd been thinking very bad thoughts about Oscar for some time, regretting my acceptance of his plan. He'd stuck by his side of it all afternoon and made a fuss of her, so I was honour bound to stick to my side of the bargain and stay out of sight until Mum left. I hadn't enjoyed being out in the dark, there were lots of strange noises and dark shadows. I'd been hungry for a long time too but a gentleman's word is his bond, so I'd endured the discomfort until Mum left. Oscar insisted I had to wait a while after Mum left before I came out of hiding but I'm sure it's now been long enough.

"Hi, Sally!" I said with enthusiasm, greeting her with wagging tail and all the trimmings.

"Broughy! Where've you been, you horror? Your mum's had to go, so you're to stay here another week. She's coming to pick you up next weekend - and you can stop grinning you bad dog!" She looked at her watch,

"Well, actually she's only been gone about ten minutes. She did ask me to ring her and she'd turn back if she hadn't gone too far." My tail dropped. That hadn't been part of the plan. Sally continued her musing,

"Mind you, she's not to know you came back so soon after she left, is she? What if I leave it a while then I'll let her know you're home safe and sound?" In my relief and my enthusiasm I released a rare 'woof'.

"I'm glad you agree. After all she has to be up early tomorrow so we want her to get a good night's sleep." Sally justified her decision. "Come on then, your lordship, let's get you some supper."

Oscar strolled in as I was 'doing the dishes' after a delicious supper.

"Well, Scruff, it seemed to work pretty well. By the way, your mum is pretty cool, she sneaked some food to me. I like that in a human."

"It's Brough!" I absently reminded him yet again. "Yes, she's great and she's coming back next weekend to pick me up. Thank you for your idea and your invaluable assistance." Oscar yawned.

"Yeah well, you owe me one, buster."

I jumped onto Sally's bed watching her talk to Mum. 'Yes' I decided 'I think they liked each other and will stay friends.' I gave a deep sigh and closed my eyes.


JANE

I lay on my bed wondering if I should ring Sally again, or if she'd think me a nuisance. I'd rung her last night to ask how Broughy was and we'd talked for over an hour, about all sorts of things. I'd found myself telling her of the little work hassles I had and I was pleasantly surprised that she'd remembered names and details that I'd told her about on Sunday. I really like that in a person. We'd talked about her painting and she'd sheepishly admitted that she hadn't told Deb the truth when she'd said she was booked up for quite a while. She'd seemed quite keen on doing a painting of me however and I felt flattered.

I'd touched on the subject of my marriage to James and told her a few of the problems we'd had. She'd proved to have a very sympathetic and understanding ear, expressing approval that I'd finally made the break and expressing the opinion that I'd be happier and stronger without him.

She'd told me about some of her many ex-boyfriends and, through the amusement of the way she told the stories, I could sense the hurt that they hadn't wanted to know the more serious side of her.

"Give them all a miss." I'd told her. "Wait for someone who'll love you for the whole you, not just the part they want to see." I'd wondered if I was qualified to offer suggestions with my track record but she'd listened attentively and had thanked me for the advice, so I felt I'd been helpful.

I lay in bed wondering if my advice would also work for me, as I knew that I hadn't been attracted to any of the men I'd met since James had left. In fact I'd had a much better day with Sally the previous weekend than I'd had in the company of any of the men I'd met, including James! Thinking about it brought me back to the question of whether I could ring her again or not, without being a pest. While I procrastinated, the phone rang.

I answered it.

"Hi, Jane. Hope you weren't asleep. I just felt like having a chat but tell me if it's inconvenient. I don't want to be a pest." I laughed, suddenly feeling very happy.

"No, not at all. I was just lying here in bed thinking about Broughy and you and Oscar."

"Well, Oscar's sprawled out on the couch and Broughy's waiting for me on the bed. In fact, now I know I'm not disturbing you, I might take the phone into the bedroom and join him while I talk to you."

I heard the sounds of her movements as she walked to her bedroom and was aware of the rustle of covers as she got into bed.

"Come on, Brough -- you can't take up the whole bed. Shove over a bit and let your mum and I get in!" I felt my face grow warm as I had a sudden, imagined vision of Fiona and Barbara getting into bed together.

"Hello Jane, you still there!" I gathered my thoughts together and answered, settling down for a long chat session. We'd been talking at least half an hour when Sally brought up the subject of my painting and asked if I could get some photographs done -- some close-ups of head and shoulders and some full-length nude shots.

"Oh, I couldn't!" I objected "I couldn't pose nude, or topless for that matter, for a photo."

"Well, if we're going to do Titian's 'Venus of Urbino'; or even 'Diana the Huntress' I've got to get the body lines correct. We can't put a different body under your face, it wouldn't be right! Anyway your body is so terrific, you have to be proud of it. Well, if you don't want photographs, we'll have to do some live poses. Sorry, mate - you're just going to have to lose that self-consciousness."

Trying to prove I wasn't as naive and inhibited as I had sounded, I said that doing it that way would be fine. 'After all, it's a long time away' I soothed myself.

"OK great. How about coming down really early on Saturday and I'll start on it straight away. We'll have most of the day then. Don't worry, you won't be standing still all day. I'll need lots of natural poses to get a good idea of the lines and muscle definition."

I swallowed, 'Oh, what the hell!'

"Yes, I can do that. I can be there by 8.30 in the morning if you'd like."

"Great. Don't have breakfast. I'll make it for us when you arrive, if you can hang on that long of course!"

We hung up soon afterwards and I was left feeling a little shell shocked. I'd never stood naked in front of anyone before. Even with James, I'd worn sleep wear when I'd got into bed and, though on occasions I'd finished up naked, I'd always put on a robe before getting out of bed. Even at school I'd always contrived to have some covering when there were others around in the change rooms.

I thought now about Sally's assessment of my body. I'd never really thought about it. Was it terrific? I jumped out of bed and stood in front of the full length mirror which had only ever seen me fully clothed. I deliberately removed my silk pyjamas and forced myself to evaluate the body facing me.

Long, strong looking legs, shapely if a little thin. I turned and looked over my shoulder, slim, boyish-looking hips and thighs. Turning round again, I looked critically at the slightly thickened waist -- whatever happened to that 18 year old's narrow waist? Two children, I presumed -- and that also accounted for the less than flat stomach. I ran my hand over it -- not really bad though. My hand continued upwards and cupped a breast -- 'a nice handful' James used to say in the early days. Maybe a bit more than a handful now, again thanks to childbirth. Still, it felt quite firm and it wasn't sagging yet.

I tried to look at the package without bias and, as I looked, I saw a smile tilt up the sides of my image's mouth. 'Hey, that's not bad!' I decided. I watched as my hand returned to my breast, feeling the slight pressure as the fingers squeezed slightly. I saw the pink nipple harden and I rolled it gently between finger and thumb. My hand travelled down and my eyes traced it's path, over the slight rise of the stomach and into the blond hair -- a couple of shades lighter than the hair on my head. I had a sudden vision of standing in front of Sally as naked as I was at this moment and my breathing quickened with fear, then excitement. My knees weakened and I backed towards the bed, shutting my eyes to block out the reflection, focusing on the sensations of touch and feel.


SALLY

After I'd arrived back from a shopping trip to Mandurah on Thursday, I decided to ring Jane with a small confession and the suggestion of a slight change of plan for Saturday. While in town, I'd wandered into a second hand shop on a whim and had found a classical guitar for sale. Not knowing much about musical instruments, the thing which caught my eye was that it was the make of guitar that Jane had had stolen and, as she'd told me they were very hard to pick up second hand, I'd been surprised at seeing it there. I'd made inquiries and the assistant had told me he thought it'd only been there a couple of days. The price seemed exorbitant at $300 but maybe that was a fair price. As Jane had been so upset about losing her guitar I'd jumped the gun slightly and put a $20 deposit on it, to be held until Saturday. Now I had to ring Jane and hope that the price was within her range.

I planned to ring after dinner and told Broughy that I'd be ringing his mum. He wagged his tail at the word 'mum' so I knew he understood. I looked forward with anticipation to her reaction at my find, as she'd seemed so sure that she'd never be able to find a second-hand 'Gibson'.

At 8.30pm, I settled down on my old, comfortable chair and dialed. Jane answered on the second ring and I pictured the smile I could hear through the phone. After a few minutes of general greetings, I told her my news. Her reaction was all I could have hoped for and, when I told her I'd put a deposit on it, she was elated and full of gratitude. She kept throwing technical questions at me which, of course, I couldn't answer.

When I told her the circumstances of my going into the shop, she was as perplexed as I had been.

"What? Broughy pulled you through the door? Why?"

"I really don't know. He just wouldn't walk past the shop, so I decided to humour him. When we walked in, he ran straight to the guitar but, when he got there, he growled at it and his hackles rose. Any ideas why?"

"I have no idea." I could sense Jane's frown of bewilderment over the phone. "He always loved my guitar and would sit at my feet when I played. Maybe it brought back memories of the break-in. I really can't guess. Would I be able to pick it up at the weekend? Would that interfere with the plans for the sitting?"

I wondered a little at the hopeful tone to her voice and then I laughed.

"No Jane, you're not getting out of it and; no, it won't interfere with the sitting. My suggestion is that Broughy and I meet you in Mandurah at 8.30am on Saturday morning, which is the time the shop opens and then we drive back here for breakfast and the sitting."

Jane agreed that the plan sounded good and denied, with a laugh in her voice, that she'd been attempting to get out of posing.

"I'm actually looking forward to it and, if the end result is anything like the 'Birth of Venus', I'll be completely satisfied and any minor embarrassment would have been well worth it."

As usual I found it very interesting to talk to Jane, somehow not feeling the need to be humorous all the time. I learned more about her children and about her varied taste in music. She touched some more on her marriage and the problems she'd had with James and I felt for her; for her past pain and disappointment.

Oscar came and sat on my knee and I looked around to find Broughy had taken himself off to bed. I didn't really want to stop talking to Jane but I'd planned to get up early the next day to do some baking and make preparations for the party. I told Jane I'd have to go off to bed and she sounded as disappointed as I was.

"Never mind," I comforted "you'll be down here the day after tomorrow and we can chat as much as we want during the day." The idea had great appeal to me.

After we'd said our good-byes I showered and got into bed. 'It's funny' I mused 'I can picture her so easily. I'd be able to capture her face without any trouble.' I jumped out of bed and grabbed a handy pad and pencil and sketched her likeness from memory, from different angles and in different poses. Her hair was sometimes around her shoulders, sometimes over her face, or pulled back, giving me the whole oval face. The predominant _expression was the look of pure pleasure she'd worn when she'd looked at my painting. In one sketch, her head was thrown back and the lips slightly apart, the tip of her tongue brushing her lower lip. I sat and stared at that particular sketch for a long time, wondering if my memory had played tricks on me or if she was as beautiful as the sketch showed her.

I looked at the clock.

"God, it's after midnight!" I told the sleeping animals. I turned off the bedside lamp, pushed a dog to one side and a cat to the other and settled down to sleep; and dream of blonde hair cascading over an oval face that wore a slightly glazed look in its green eyes.

If you have enjoyed F.J. Davey's "Portrait Of A Stranger, Part One", then please be certain to e-mail her at  francis7[at]bigpond.net.au  and thank her for posting this Story.

Click here to continue on to "Portrait Of A Stranger, Conclusion"

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