Beth's Summer Break Pt. 09

I chuckled as I recalled her singing Lou Reed's classic as she left me chained to the bedpost and pretended to walk out of the house.

"You?" she enquired.

"Yeah, I plonk about a bit -- bass mainly, these days. It's up in storage with my guitar. We keep trying to get a band going at college. Allie is a really good fiddle player -- she's been in Scottish folk bands since she was a kid. We did a few gigs last term, the two of us and a couple of guys we know. It's just a bit of fun. We were described as 'heavy metal folk'. I'm not sure Nirvana's Come As You Are done folk style is ever going to catch on but we had a laugh!" I nodded at the guitar again. "Can I?"

"Go ahead. Probably not been tuned in a year. As long as it's not that really heavy stuff Gina tells me you listen to!"

The lovely thing about Ovations is the way they keep their tuning. It didn't take much to get it back and the strings were in not too bad a condition. I started to hit a few chords and thought the second verse summed up nicely the way I felt.

Just a perfect day, problems all left alone,

Weekenders on our own, it's such fun.

Just a perfect day, you made me forget myself.

I thought I was someone else, someone good.

I looked up at Josie as I sang the chorus and her eyes misted over, mouthing the words as I sang them, not trusting her foghorn voice not to ruin it.

As I finished she held her hand out to me. "Beautiful. You've got a lovely voice. I'm almost wiping away a tear here! You can borrow it until you go back if you like. I never play it, so it may as well get some use."

I put it down and hugged her, thanking her. I hadn't realized I'd missed playing so much and it felt good. "Allie's got an amazing voice. When we play she usually does lead and I try to harmonize. Our friend Alice reckons we come in harmony -- me a perfect fifth above Allie!"

She was giggling. I'd only heard her funny little tinkling laugh before, but obviously the hookah was having a slightly different affect on her. "I'd love to hear that. This Allie sounds like someone I'd like to meet."

"She'd like you and you'd like her. I'm not sure what genteel Amberdown would make of her though. Or vice versa. She's a bit a force of nature!"

"Do you love her?"

I sat up in shock -direct as ever, Josie! I considered for a moment how best to describe it. "She's my best friend, lover, soul mate, fuck buddy, confidante. Bit like you and Gina, really. We get drunk, stoned, laugh, cry, sing -- I can never remember in over two years ever having fallen out, not even remotely close. We get mock angry and pretend, but it always ends up in us coming in two-part harmony! The first night we met, we were so drunk we went to bed and fell asleep and were too hung-over to do anything next morning. We went and had more beer at the college bar at the lunchtime and got down to it in the afternoon! Never been parted since -- until this summer."

I told her the tale of the night I had found out about Gina and Mike, and over Skype, Allie had made me fuck a cucumber. Josie was in tears by the end of it.

"And you bloody measured it?" She was almost doubled up. "Oh I'd have paid good money to see both ends of that conversation!"

"Give me your Skype address -- I'll send it to you! I just wish we'd had a camera at my end. And sorry, in answer to your earlier question from about three days ago, yes I love her. I know we are not going to spend the rest of our lives together, but we'll always be there for each other, wherever and whenever."

She took my face in her hands, smiling fondly. "Yep, just like me and that terrible Harcourt woman! Fuck, I wish I was your age again! Oh, and in reference to that song you sang -- you are someone good. Don't ever be anyone else."

I looked skeptically at her. I still doubted myself. My selves. "It worked for Gina."

She made a fist and tapped me gently on the nose with it. "Different circumstances for her."

I sighed. "I don't know who I am, Josie. I was outcast when I was younger because I liked folk music and heavy stuff. While the other girls were swooning over shitty boy bands, I was trying to play like Kurt Cobain or James Hetfield. My mum had all these old classic rock albums -- Led Zep, Sabbath, Purple. I grew up listening to them and loved them. The girls in my year were pissing their pants at the thought of Take That or Fuckwits Unlimited or whatever they were called -- God, I don't even know their names! I was hanging out at folk festivals and listening to Korn, Slipknot, Opeth, Foo Fighters. No fucking wonder I'm so fucking fucked up!"

She stroked my hair. "Nothing 'fucking fucked up' about you at all, sweetie. Just be who you are. You can be gentle; you can be like a tigress with a porcupine up her arse. So you like funny music for a girl - you look and fuck like an angel." She put on a Deep South accent. "Sounds purdy fine to me!"

I started to say something, but she put her hand over my mouth. "Now, before I start to get annoyed at you, and Games Mistress Napier-Jones needs to make a reappearance, I'm not going to have a stunning, funny, sexy and talented little thing like you feeling sorry for yourself, so while I fill up that pipe over there again, you go and get yourself a beer from the fridge and make me a Pimms, and then come back and play something else for me."

I extricated myself from her and stood up. My brief tirade over, she had come back with a perfect riposte. I was now giggling, trying to imagine how a porcupine would get itself in such a state. I twirled my ponytails around and pointed them down at her. "Know what I like about you, Jonesey?"

She was swallowing her bottom lip trying not to laugh. She shut her eyes and shook her head. "I shudder to think!"

"You're as fucking mad as I am!" I got to the door and stopped. "Where is your fridge anyway?"

She was bending over the hookah and didn't turn round. "Upstairs in the fucking bedroom, where d'you think? God is this what a University education is like these days? Kitchen's second door down on the left up those three stairs. Fridge is a big oblong silvery thing with handles. If you pull one, a cunning invention called a door opens. Careful, the contents may be cold."

God, I was starting to love this woman as much as Gina. Still feeling nicely heady from the hookah, I shouted at her. "Hoi, Jonesey?"

She turned round and I put my tongue out at her and gave her two middle fingers.

As I opened the door, she shouted back at me. "If you let the fucking cats in here, it will be horse shit on toast for you, hear me?"

Chapter Four -- Me and Mrs Jones

I had the guitar in my lap. I was sitting on a white leather padded stool and Josie was lying full length on the leather sofa, her kaftan open, revealing tantalizing glimpses of her perfect body. The more I saw of this woman's world, the more leather was involved. Smoke was curling up from her cigarette.

I looked at her clock. "Jeez, is it only six o'clock?" We'd done so much since I met her this morning it felt like Tuesday evening, never mind still Sunday.

She sounded like she was purring. "Mmm, plenty of time to do wicked things before the bloody working week rears its ugly head again." She sipped her Pimms and I had a swill from my beer bottle.

Thanks to my superior education, I had managed to find her fridge and more by luck than good judgment kept the cats at bay. By the time I had the drinks in my hand there were at least five of them circling round my legs, mewling. They were all different colours, shapes and sizes.

She waved her arm at me. "Come on, woman, sing!" The dope had got to her and she was quite pleasantly gone. I wasn't much better myself and had made a complete bollocks of trying to play Nothing Else Matters. I offered up a silent apology to James and the boys.

I finished my beer and looked across at her. "So are we just going to sit here all night and smoke ourselves into oblivion and listen to me murder great songs, or does the lady have a master-plan?"

"Sing!" She waved her cigarette imperiously at me.

I was so out of practice my fingers were sore and I'd just about done the limited set list we played as Architects of the Apocalypse. Ok, we were bombed when we though it up. It seemed like a good idea at the time and it stuck. As someone had said in the college magazine, it wasn't so much the '02 Arena' as the 'Oh Shit Refectory.'

I'd had enough even if Josie hadn't. I didn't know the chords to a classic old soul song, so I sang it acapella.

I put on a tortured voice, hammering the open strings tunelessly. "Me and Mrs. Napier-Jones... We got a thiiiiiiiiiiing goin' on..." Somewhere a long way away from rural England, the recently deceased Billy Paul performed a few revolutions in his place of interment.

She finished her cigarette and sat up. "Oh, if you're going to get silly..."

I put the guitar down and walked over to her. "Silly Billy?"

It wasn't even remotely funny, but in the state we were in it was enough to reduce us to hysterics. By the time we were finished we were tangled together on her sofa, sides aching, tears streaming.

When we had calmed ourselves, Josie paid me a compliment. At least I think she did. "Thank fuck you don't take after your father. I wish I'd had the affair with your mother, because she must be a lot like you."

I drummed my fingers on my cheek. "God I hope I'm not taking after him..."

"Not you're not, I assure you. So are you like her... your mum?"

Bloody hell, this woman could disarm you with her questions all right! "I suppose so. Similar hair and build, i.e. tall, long legs, no tits. Cute little face, big brown eyes. She always wears lovely flowing dresses and lots of clunky, cheap jewelry but it looks great on her. I think if she had been born earlier she'd have been a hippy. I suppose they were an odd couple, Dad and her. The guy she's with now, Maynard, is lovely. An Aussie guy - really relaxed. I've not seen her happier in years. They're in the Algarve at the moment, no doubt going at it like... "

I tailed off, not liking where I was heading. "No it's my Mum -- I'm not going there!"

Josie wasn't saying anything. She was either too stoned to speak, which I doubted, or wanted to hear more, which I suspected, so I went on.

"I suppose I get my musical taste from her -- all her old albums. She loves blues, jazz, folk, classic rock. During school holidays I used to play them and plonk along on my first acoustic. Then my friend Katie Merryweather and I would pinch her cigarettes and smoke them in the garden. That's how I got into the brown ones, the Mores -- they were her brand. Then one day we found a little tin under some of her albums. I thought it was herbs, but Katie was savvier than me. We hollowed out a ciggie and put it all back mixed with her weed. We didn't dare take much, so there probably wasn't enough in there to get any THC into our systems, but we thought we were big girls!" I stopped for a moment and thought. "Sorry, I'm probably boring the crap out you here, rambling on."

She stretched herself, a cat-lover imitating her favorite animal. "No, I could listen to you all night. You've a lovely voice and you're a lovely story-teller. When you're the way I am, a lot of relationships are ephemeral. Sometimes you don't even get a name, never mind any background. Thanks for telling me Beth. I may come across all fire and brimstone but I do have a gentler side. I shag just about anything that moves, male or female, and I can get pretty nasty when I want, which is quite often. But every now and again, someone crosses my path and I think -- I want to know that person. Gina was one. There have been a few since, some of them very special to me. I've just added Bethany Hamilton to my list. Next time you see your mother, tell her she has an unknown admirer!"

I put my forehead against hers. "Fucking hell, will the people of Amberdown please stop making me cry?" I wiped a tear away and I kissed Josie on the lips.

Miss Georgina Harcourt

Mr. Samuel Atkins

Miss Josie Napier-Jones.

I had a nice little list of my own building up.

I gave her what Paddington Bear would call a hard stare, my face inches from hers."Right, Miss Napier-Jones -- who incidentally has also just been added to my list -- at the risk of repeating myself; and ask Sam Atkins what I am like if I have to repeat myself too many times; what... the... fuck... have... you... got... planned?"

Chapter Five -- Dizzy With Izzy

She wouldn't tell me of course and I was annoyed with myself for asking. She went and got changed, this time into a simple silk dress. Despite having been under various helmets and/or pretty well stoned for much of the day she looked in remarkably good shape.

It was almost a disappointment when she led me out of the house and we walked a few doors down from her cottage to the village pub. I say village -- it probably had been one not so long ago, but was now more or less a southern suburb of Amberdown, albeit keeping its village feel. There were a few small shops and lots of chintzy little cottages round a green and duck pond, with the Green Man standing proud. She had booked us a table. I had been hoping for a curry takeaway, more of her hookah and an erotic night of Sapphic bliss.

As it turned out, I got the latter two and more, but the curry was replaced by a very nice gastro-pub meal. There was no chance of playing footsie under the table here as we had done the previous Sunday, even if I had been appropriately dressed.

But I had cleaned and re-inserted my love balls.

We were tucking in to some very fine pork belly when she brought me back to my little dalliance with Daisy. "So you weren't impressed with Miss Hunter then?"

I looked puzzled until she said her first name.

"Oh, well it was just a bit of a surprise. I should have known with you, shouldn't I?"

I was greeted with sage nod from across the table.

"It was nice enough once I went with the flow. She's -- how can I put it -- a little robust for me. I suppose bull-dyke was a bit harsh." I told Josie how Daisy had invited me to the Tanners 'of a Thursday.'"

Josie nearly choked on a mouthful of food and had to take a drink before she could continue. "Oh my Lord!" She could barely speak for laughing. "I can just imagine poor little Beth at the mercy of Maggie Bennett's crew -- now there is a bull-dyke! Oh the thought of that lovely hair of yours reduced to a buzz-cut. Your lovely little hummingbird overlaid with skulls and hearts with daggers!" She put her knife and fork down and dabbed her mouth with her napkin. "No, if you ever stray into the Tanners make sure you have Sam as a bodyguard. Preferably along with his other back row mate!"

I shook my head deliberately. "I'm steering well clear. I think I'll put an exclusion zone around the station area. I ain't getting a buzz-cut." I finished my last mouthful and scraped back my chair. I got up to head to the ladies and put a hand on her shoulder. "Having said that, if she offered to meet me in the White Lion..."

As I went on my way I turned back to her. "Oh and by the way, there are three of them in the back row..."

She never missed a beat. "Even better then, darling. You may just about survive with those odds! Never did understand rugby. What's the use of all that violence without sex?"

When I came back she was on the phone. I sat and finished my beer while she talked. She was looking directly at me as she spoke and once again, something was going on.

"Oh, glad it went well, darling. Good news. Hope you sent my love. No, we'll not be long -- just finishing up." She listened for a moment, pausing here and there as the person on the other end spoke. "Yes I know you've some catching up to do, but save some for us... no that's greedy, Izz. I'll set Shadow on you... no, not the little one - the fucking big one! Get a beer ready and a Coke for me, will you babe? No, with a capital 'C', darling -- the soft drink brand, not the class 'A' pick-me-up. We have work in the morning." She shot her eyes heavenward. "And make sure the cats are in the kitchen please. Yes, ok -- five mins tops honestly, sweetie."

She shook her head as she closed the call. "Can't get staff, can you? Come along, Hamilton -- there's someone I'd like you to meet."

Oh heavens, what had she got in store for me this time? Luckily, I didn't have long to wait to find out. We left the pub and re-traced our short journey and she let us back into the house. The kitchen door was closed, so presumably the felines were all corralled.

She stood at the top of the three stairs down to the smoking room and beckoned me down. She followed and stopped behind me in the doorway.

Across the room, where I had been playing the guitar, there were now four or five cushions scattered across the floor and a number of candles were illuminating the room. There was a sweet smell of incense overlaying the smell emanating from the hookah. The woman lying languidly on the cushions took a long hit on the mouthpiece and blew out a slow stream of silvery smoke. She was oriental, with long, straight black hair hanging down over her oval face. Her mouth was slightly open and the eye that was not obscured by her hair was shining. She was wearing Josie's green kaftan, or one similar, and it was wide open showing beautifully proportioned breasts and the edges of various ornate tattoos. I could see piercings similar to Josie's -- nipple bars, a belly-button stud. She had a ring in one nostril and as she flicked her tongue, I could see the flash of something silver. The one ear visible was a mass of rings and studs.

She was stunning and it was one of the most sensual and provocative images I had seen in ages.

A voice behind me shook me from this amazing vision. "Bethany Hamilton, I have the pleasure of introducing you to a very special lady indeed. This is Isadora, known to the world as Izzy, and when she's naughty, to me she's 'Izz'."

Izzy took another puff on the hookah. I expected a Chinese accent, but it was perfect middle-class English. A slow smile crept over her face. "Hi Bethany, Josie has told me a lot about you."

I was about to say something back when Josie went on behind me.

"Izzy is my joint best friend along with Gina. She is my business partner and the creative genius behind Confection Confidential. She is also the great love of my life. Her full name is Isabella Chan Napier-Jones." She paused dramatically. "Bethany, I'd like you to meet my life partner. My wife. I'll leave you two to get acquainted..."

I looked back at the door in amazement, but she was gone. I turned back to Izzy, who was now kneeling up with a huge grin on her face. She held out the mouthpiece of the hookah to me. "Looks like you need some of this. My dear partner does love her dramatic surprises!"

I held my hands out to her in supplication. "Oh my goodness, the shocks just keep on coming! Hi Izzy, lovely to meet you." She stood, pulling the kaftan around her and as we embraced I felt the magical feeling of the silk against her skin as I had done with Josie earlier. She handed me the mouthpiece and I inhaled, once again feeling that lovely tingle. She followed suit and beckoned me to sit next to her on the cushions.

She pulled her hair back from her face and tucked it behind her ears. There was plenty of metal there for it to catch on. She touched me on the chin, cupping it gently. "You're as beautiful as she said. More so, I think." Her eyes were wide, her dilated pupils boring into mine. I put her around thirty years old, and she had been as tall as me when we stood together. She was pencil thin and her hair fell nearly to her waist. I was lost for words.

"Thank you, that's lovely of you to say. Sorry, Izzy -- I had no idea. I keep getting surprised around here, but I suppose I should be used to it by now. Things certainly are... interesting in these parts!" I held out my hand and touched her softly as she had done to me. "Even if Josie or Gina had mentioned you and told me how beautiful you are, it wouldn't have done you justice either."