Between The Lines

"Admiring the curves?" she asked with a cheeky grin.

"Mmm... looks hot and probably expensive to run," I replied.

"Spot on... but what about the car?" she fired back as I opened the passenger door and squeezed my 6ft frame through the small entrance.

I barely had time to settle in before she'd fired up the engine and, with only a hint of wheel-spin, launched us out into the near-deserted streets. It was immediately clear that she enjoyed driving and that she was more than competent so, even though some of the cornering had me swaying from side to side, I felt pretty relaxed. I would have felt happier if I'd known where we were going but, when I asked her, I was told to wait and see. Trusting soul that I am, I decided to relax, enjoy the drive, and give myself the treat of examining my beautiful chauffeuse.

Seen in profile, her face still had that slightly severe look -- lovely but unapproachable -- but there was also a hint of vulnerability that was strangely appealing. She wore no make-up that I could see, and the flickering glow of the streetlamps seemed to highlight the redness of the dark, wavy hair that hung in waves down to her shoulder blades. Naturally, my gaze lowered beyond her long, elegant neck to the gentle swell of her breasts. The pale blue top she wore was just low-cut enough to reveal the upper curve; by no means an intentional tease, but it made for very pleasant viewing.

There wasn't much else to be seen in the darkness of the car, but I'd already noted that her dark blue jeans were another spray-on job and the trainers on her feet were similar to the ones I'd seen on her before.

"You'll know me for next time, won't you?" she asked, her face becoming beautiful as she smiled; and I suppose I ought to have been embarrassed at being caught so obviously staring at her, but I wasn't. There was no malice in her voice and, being both single and middle-aged, I'd long ago given up on hiding my admiration of beautiful females.

"The scenery's much better on that side," I said, momentarily feigning interest in the industrial site we happened to be passing and then, feeling a little guilty, continued, "I'm sorry. I didn't mean to offend you. She laughed, took a deep breath and leaned back a little before glancing at me and saying:

"I've been taking my clothes off in public for the last four years so... yeah, I'm really going to be upset if a man stares at me, aren't I?"

"I've been working with strippers for the best part of 15 years," I told her, "and you're better to look at, with or without your clothes on, than any of them were when they stripped."

There was silence for a moment or two and I almost cursed myself for being so crass -- for sounding as if I was trying out a juvenile chat-up line -- and I saw her give a somewhat tight lipped glance in my direction before returning her attention to the road ahead. I wondered if I could say anything to retrieve the situation but, a moment or two later, we swung onto a side road that seemed to be taking us deep into the countryside.

I'm a city boy at heart and all that greenery and open space tends to make me feel a bit agoraphobic but, when I put my window a little for some fresh air, I got an unpleasant surprise and hastily closed it again.

"Bad move!" Penny said, trying to suppress her laughter, "there's a pig farm over there. Fresh, isn't it?"

"Hmmm... I suppose it's one way to make money with a pen," I said. There was a short delay, but then she got it and laughed.

The silence was more comfortable after that as we drove along what appeared to be ever-narrowing roads, occasionally turning off until, at last, we came to a huge set of wrought-iron gates that opened automatically when Penny wound down her window and pressed some numbers into the control box on the wall. I couldn't quite make out the name of the place, it seemed to be 'something-or-other Grange,' but I swear I've been on motorways shorter than the drive up to it.

As soon as we drew to a halt outside what appeared to be a mansion of extraordinary size, a young man appeared as if from nowhere and opened Penny's door for her to step out. "Good morning, Miss Pendlebury," he said, very precisely.

"Good morning, Mason. Thank you for waiting up. Is everything ready?" she replied and, when he confirmed that it was, she rewarded him with a smile, asked him to put the car away and told him he wouldn't be needed and to get some rest.

"Well? Are you coming inside or would you prefer to stay out here?" She then smiled to me.

"So... this is the garden shed. What's the house like?" I said, wondering what the hell I was doing there and what could possibly in store for me. "This is where you live?"

"It's my parents' place," she answered as we walked through the enormous entrance hall until she guided me into a small, but comfortable room that she called the 'study.' "I'm not particularly fond of it... or them for that matter... but it's a useful enough place to stay while they're away."

"Away?" I didn't know what else to say, I was totally at sea and, as it turned out, so were they -- on a round-the-world cruise.

"Sit down, Jack," she gently instructed and pointed to one of the two large and very comfortable armchairs, "you've been very patient and very trusting."

"I always was a sucker for a pretty face," I said, my brain still reeling, and she smiled as she said;

"Okay... it's time for some explanations. I'd offer you a drink," she went on and, for the first time, I noticed a very well stocked drinks cabinet, "but I really don't want to. I want you to be stone cold sober because we have a very important meeting arranged for tomorrow morning. The producer and his entourage are flying in from somewhere or other and my agent's bringing them here to discuss the project at midday."

I went to say something, but she just ignored me and said:

"There'll be some other people arriving, too -- so you'll need to be at your best. Therefore... no booze! Okay? Anyway, I'll start off by trying to satisfy your curiosity about one or two things if you'll let me? Oh, by the way, feel free to smoke if you wish. I don't, but it doesn't bother me." Then she settled down on the other armchair and began.

"My given name, as you probably know, is Margaret Pendlebury. Actually, it's Margaret Matilda Josephine Pendlebury. My parents, as you can tell, are obscenely rich. My father's a retired merchant banker and mother writes romantic novels. I'm their second daughter; a bit of an after-thought, or an accident perhaps because they were already planning early retirement when I arrived.

"Anyway, they bundled me off to boarding school at the earliest opportunity and took very little interest in my growing up. I think they were a bit surprised that I wasn't very 'academic' and utterly shocked that my main interests were drama and dance. They wanted me to be like my sister -- to marry someone wealthy, settle down and have a family. Actually, my sister married a politician -- a Member of Parliament -- and they both cheat on each other unmercifully. They've got three children, although God only knows which, if any, are actually his.

"I suppose I was a bit rebellious. You wouldn't believe the number of times they've threatened to cut me off without anything -- about the same number of times I've told them they could shove it all up their money-cushioned arses, I expect.

"Anyway, after I'd been through drama school, I did the usual rounds of auditions and so on, but the only time I close to anything worthwhile, I discovered that my father had agreed to back the production on condition that I got a leading part! That was probably the biggest row we'd ever had!"

"I guess he may have been just trying to give you a head start?" I offered.

"If you knew my dad," she began, then changed tack and went on, "Anyway, I left home completely, swearing I'd never return. I started working as a lap dancer-come striptease dancer and shared a flat with an old school friend who was working in an insurance office. Eventually, she came to watch me perform and loved the idea of being on stage. We worked out a bit of a routine between us and the act began.

"We couldn't believe the reaction we got. Our agent got us better and better bookings and before long we were earning ridiculous amounts of money!"

"I'm not surprised!" I told her truthfully.

"Yeah, well... we both knew it couldn't last forever. No matter how hard you work at keeping in shape there's bound to be a time when... well, you know!" Then she giggled, "We'd actually worked out a routine using the finale of Tchaikovsky's 1812 Overture! Can you believe that? I'm not even going to tell you what happened in time to the cannon fire!"

She could probably see my imagination going into overdrive by the look on my face, and that made her laugh out loud. "Has anyone ever told you that you've got a dirty mind, Mr de Ladd?"

"Probably because I don't change it often enough," I said

"So," she said, laughing, "That brings me to where Dee... that's 'Paula' by the way... met the man of her dreams. I'd already been working on the script -- for the best part of a year, to be honest -- and I asked my agent to take a look at it. The rest, you know."

She leaned right back in her chair and fixed her gaze on me. I don't know why, but I suddenly felt very nervous. Then she said:

"This means more to me than I can tell you, Jack."

"I won't let you down, Penny," I promised. She smiled and I could almost feel my flesh melting into the chair, but she went on:

"There're just three more things you need to know, Jack. The first is that you're staying here tonight and tomorrow you'll be wearing one of my father's suits." I went to ask the obvious question but she quickly assured me that it would be an almost perfect fit. "The second is that I'm... well, I'm a lesbian, although I'm not keen on that word. Dee and myself were more than just dance partners, if you know what I mean?"

I just nodded, trying to hide any sign of disappointment because I realised that she was examining me very carefully indeed. "...And the third thing?" I asked, realising that she'd only dealt with two.

"Ah... yes," she said, with a frown; then the frown slowly melted away and gradually turned into that wonderfully bright smile. "The third thing," she told me, as she stood up and reached out a hand, "Is that, like Dee, I'm not exclusively lesbian! In fact, since we're hoping to be partners in this project and we might end up working very closely together, I think we should get to know one another properly."

I felt her warm hand clasp mine and allowed myself to be raised up from the chair. I was in a state of complete and utter shock as she curled an arm around my neck, drew me close to her beautiful body and whispered:

"That's why I'm going to take you up to my room. I'm going to make sure we both get a proper night's rest," and she brushed her lips against mine before adding; "After we've fucked each other's brains out, of course!"

To be continued...