I thought I would start experimenting with development of a proposed novel putting up chapter sections as I develop them for feedback and interest. Hopefully you will enjoy….please feel free to share around the water cooler.
Polly Fitzgerald sat at the dining table, posture perfect, one leg crossed behind the other. She smoked a cigarette, deep in her memories, as she listened to Anne Murray.
“Could I have this dance for the rest of my life? Would you be my partner every night…”
Polly sighed to herself, looking down at the summer cocktail dress that she wore. She had dressed up in spite of them but it didn’t ease her heartache. It made her feel worse.
She wiped the tears from her face, resting the cigarette in an ashtray before rising from the table.
The woman marched over to the record player ceasing Anne Murray’s vocals. She removing the vinyl record and proceeded to smash it against the coffee table.
A strand of raven hair detached, from the pearl shell hair clip, falling across her face. She took a moment to fix her hair back into place once more.
She stood alone in an empty house with her memories.
Suddenly, a knock came from her front door startling the woman. She hadn’t been expecting any visitors. She hurried to answer it, only to find a tattooed dyke waiting on her front porch clutching a vodka bottle under one arm.
Eva-Marie pushed passed her sister venturing into the interior of a once loving household. She instantly spotted the cigarette burning in the ashtray and broken pieces of vinyl on the floor.
“I see you’ve taken up smoking again. This must be bad.”
“Just…remembering that’s all,” spoke Polly, as she came into the room behind her sister.
“That’ll stop once you get your bony ass outta this house.” Eva-Marie collapsed on the sofa, cracked open the vodka bottle taking a mouthful before passing it to her sister, “Drink?”
“I’ll get some glasses,” spoke Polly, taking the bottle from her sister wanting to prevent any alcohol from ruining her gorgeous Florentine couch. “So what brings you here? You don’t do family.”
“Fuck-off! I do so!” She called out, resting her feet upon the coffee table.
Polly returned with two glasses and a bottle of lemonade, “This is the first time you’ve graced this house in a year.”
She removed her sister’s feet from where they rested on the coffee table.
Eva-Marie frowned, “I only arrived back in town a few weeks ago.”
“God help the girls!”
Polly was aware of her sister’s routine with women. She wooed them with poetry and charm then dropped them the second boredom set in. She would move on to some other poor soul.
“Shut up! For your information, know-all, there has only been one girl.”
Polly was visibly shocked. She passed, Eva-Marie, a drink, “My god, this is a new colour on you. Could my little sister be ready to settle down?”
“Settle down! fuck no! It’s just a bit on the side for her.”
“Well do you want more?”
Eva-Marie scowled at her, like she was the problem and not her lover, “Don’t be fuckin stupid! We both know the deal!”
“Liar! I know you.”
“You haven’t known me for many years.”
Polly felt the chill descend between them; they hadn’t always been like this. They were once very close, then Polly started a family and Eva-Marie came out. They lost touch in many ways.
Eva-Marie wanted to change the subject, “So what’s with the ciggies?”
“He’s getting married today.”
Eva-Marie sculled the rest of her drink then jumped to her feet, “Well, there is nothing like crashing a wedding to put a new spring in your step.”
“Aren’t ya just a little curious?”
“It would hurt too much.”
Eva-Marie grabbed the bottle of vodka, taking control of the drinking, pouring her sister another glass. Her sister could be convinced into anything with enough drink in her, the day just got a lot more interesting.
The church service was going to plan. Everything was perfect. The bride looked like an angel and her distinguished groom was hot for his age.
There was a wave of happiness in the room as they embarked on a new adventure. Finally, they were free to love each other in the open.
In the front row, two teenagers sat, glumly, watching this procession take place.
Lizzie was the eldest child, on the brink of adulthood, confident and capable. She was in her first year at university, meeting lots of interesting people and finally thinking for herself. She was in charged of her own life. Now, she just had to find a way to tell her mother she was moving out.
Toby was less capable than his sister, awkward and gangling, still scared shitless of his burgeoning puberty. His long hair was cast over his face as if hiding from the world.
His future was full of nightmares; being pushed and pulled between access visits, wondering if those wet dreams would stop and whether the ozone layer would hold.
The children heard it first, the roar of a motor bike, like some belching, hungry beast. It sounded familiar.
The noise grew louder, almost drowning out the priest, causing everyone to turn toward the lead light window to the side of the church.
An object hurtled through the window, shattering the image of Christ on a Cross, showering the guests in debris.
The motor bike landed before the now unhappy couple, as the groom recognized the intruders that clung to the hog for dear life.
Lizzie and Toby laughed, as they watched their mother climb off the beast, a little dazed, a strand of dark hair coming loose from the hair clip,“I’m so sorry, Patrick, Eva-Marie didn’t break in time.”
Eva-Marie removed her helmet, sneering like a devil, her body pumping with adrenaline that almost made her climax.
Polly lent against the cop car while Eva-Marie and Lizzie tried to placate the police officers; Eva-Marie was volatile and Lizzie was calm.
Polly looked across at her ex-husband who was consoling his new bride. It was one big embarrassing mess.
She felt her son’s dainty hand encircle her own, “Don’t worry, Mum, you still have me.”
Polly pecked him on the forehead; she worried about him.
These days, Toby seemed to have a heavy burden on his shoulders. He had become silent and withdrawn.
“It’s not one of my finest hours,” spoke Polly.
“Did it make you feel better?”
Polly couldn’t help but smirk, “Yes, but that’s no excuse for acting like a nut. It was wrong of me. I hope I didn’t embarrass you?”
“You made a bad day bearable,” spoke Toby, sharing a smile with his mother. “I miss being a family…you, dad and Lizzie.”
“We’ll always be your family. We just don’t live in the same house,” replied Polly, he was sharing with her perhaps this was the right time to probe deeper. “You can talk to me about anything, okay? I’m your mum. I’ll always have your back.”
Toby looked up at her, his eyes peering through the mop of hair, “It’s just school…it’s nothing.”
“Toby…tell me? Please. I worry about you.”
Toby looked down at the ground once more, grinding his shoe into the dirt, “I’m being picked on…that’s all. I can handle it.” Polly’s heart sank; she just wanted to protect him. “It’s okay. You don’t have to march down to the school yelling at anyone. I’ve got it under control. There is this new kid. He’s kinda looking out for me.”
Polly beamed for joy, “Really! How sweet! Does he have a name?”
“It’s Jarrod. He helps me with the bullies while I teach him about Shakespeare.”
Toby seemed to light up when speaking about him. Jarrod was obviously important to her son. Polly began to speculate.
Polly and Eva-Marie sat on a bench seat in a holding cell at the local police station. Polly felt less gloomy than she did that morning. They were waiting for bail to be posted.
Eva-Marie sneered, “I’ve never seen his face go from bright red to dark purple so quickly.”
Polly became quiet for a moment, “I just wish the children hadn’t been there. They didn’t need to see that domestic.”
Eva-Marie placed her hand upon her sisters, “They’re pretty tough…they do come from our stock after all.”
“So…where have you been Eva-Marie? I’ve missed you.”
“I’ve been here and there. No place special.”
“It is days like this I am reminded how it used to be with us. We were so close,” spoke Polly, wistfully. “Yes, we argued, usually over your unhealthy obsession to decapitate my Barbie dolls.”
Eva-Marie scowled, “Well, you were always trying to dress me up like a girl!”
Polly examined her sister’s hair, it was so dry and oily, “You could, at least, use a shampoo more than once in a blue moon. It wouldn’t make you less of a lesbian.”
Polly adored her sister when not fighting. There wasn’t anything she wouldn’t do for Eva-Marie when it counted. They were blood. They were bonded for life.
Eva-Marie bowed her head, in deep thought, like her nephew, “When I came out, did it repulse you?”
“No. It made me scared for you,” replied her sister. “I knew the world would be cruel.”
“It was…for a time.”
Polly clasped her hand; a fond smile appeared on her face, glad to have her sister with her.
Eva-Marie smiled back, it was a good look on her that she didn’t always use, “I didn’t come by randomly…I heard about the wedding. I thought you could use some company.”
A police officer opened the cell door halting their intimate moment. Their bail had been posted. They were free to leave. They were escorted into reception where a woman waited for them.
She had big fluffy hair, a voluptuous body and flawless skin. She was dressed in a sexy outfit with a plunging neckline; her accessories were jewels that would make a princess envious.
The woman gave Eva-Marie a peck on the cheek before stepping back. She looked a little jumpy, “We need to go, honey, before Herb misses me.”
“I had hoped the fucker would have been long gone by now,” spat Eva-Marie.
“Stop that! You know the deal! Now come on,” snapped Makin, as she hustled them from the police station.
Eva-Marie had managed to convince Makin to stop off at a bohemian bar called Midnight. They found a table in the beer garden, the setting sun warmed their bodies, as a cool air cast a veil over the lustrous grotto.
Polly went into the bar to get some drinks to blot out this horrible day.
Makin, clearly, had something on her mind, fidgeting, “Ahh…look I am glad you called me as I have some news.”
“That tone suggests I’m not going to be thrilled.”
“Stop being difficult! This was just a fling.”
Makin glared at her from across the table, not ready to accept any criticisms. After all, the girl had gotten what she wanted. Hot sex.
“Well, that’s too bad because I’m married. Now, I didn’t want to tell you like this but can’t keep it a secret forever.”
“Christ, you sound as if you’re fuckin dying.”
“Well I didn’t do it.”
Makin ignored her sarcasm, getting on with the conversation that needed to be had, “So, this means we have to stop. I can’t afford any stress right now for the sake of the baby. Every time I leave the house I feel Herb’s eyes boring into my mind…I’m sure he suspects something.”
“Look, I told you I was sorry about the lipstick on your neck.”
“That’s not even the strange part of that night. I’m still shocked you wore lipstick at all.”
“There was a fuckin full moon. I wasn’t myself.”
Makin smiled, unable to stay cross with her for long. She clasped her hand like old times, feeling her libido rise.
Suddenly, Makin broke away; this wasn’t good for the baby. She couldn’t afford to get too excited.
“I must leave…you’re agitating me. I won’t risk my family for you.”
Eva-Marie rose from the other side to stare her down, her bitterness radiating from her face, “Then fuck off!”
“And the bail money?”
“You’ll get every cent back. I know how much you adore money.”
With that, Makin stormed out of the beer garden, leaving Eva-Marie standing bravely to attention hoping the woman would leave before she broke down.
While Polly waited at the shabby bar for her drinks, a man appeared beside her, obviously returning to his glass of water propped on the bar counter. He looked haggard, dark circles about his eyes, his thick hair now stubble upon his head.
The man looked as if he’d gone to war with his mortality coming off second best in the struggle.
He glanced across at her, “What’s a classy chick like you doing in a dump like this.”
Polly grinned, “Trying to forget a horrible day.”
“It’s not been much fun for me either.” He looked across at her, a haunted look in his eyes, “The treatments fucking up my sex life.”
She watched as the man picked up his glass of water, shaking a little, taking a gulp. It was the only liquid that didn’t make him sick.
Polly realised that her marital problems paled compared to this shadow of a man, “Cancer?”
The man sneered, “Of the balls. There are plenty of chicks who will be pissing themselves laughing at my diagnoses.” He put out his hand, “I’m Jon.”
The woman shook his hand, “Polly.”
“Maybe if I’m lucky I’ll see you around another time.”
She pressed her lips against his forehead, wishing him good luck.
It was the first female contact that, Jon, had in some time; it made him feel a quiver in his loins again. Every other woman gave him a wide berth as if he had leprosy. It was too uncomfortable for them.
When Polly returned to the beer garden, she found her sister looking despondent. She passed her a Tequila shot, her sister had ordered, “So what happened to your friend?”
“Gone…for good this time,” muttered her sister, knocking back the shot of Tequila.
Polly sat down before her, sipping her glass of white wine, “Maybe it’s for the best.”
Eva-Marie shot a glacial look at her sister, snarling, “What the fuck is that supposed to mean…ya think two women can’t be in love?”
“Not when one is already married! I noticed the ring.”
“That is just bullshit! She should never have gone ahead with it.”
“But obviously she did. So leave it be.”
“What if I don’t wanna? She means everything to me.”
Polly rested a hand upon her sisters, tenderly, “Makin doesn’t feel the same or she wouldn’t be doing this to you.”
“I feel so fuckin foolish! Me, the woman who fucked and ran, reduced to a cry baby over one stupid girl.”
“You can’t help who you love but you can stop them dragging you down.” spoke her sister, wisely. “You’ve got to move on for your sake.”
“And what about you?”
“You need to take your own advice,” spat Eva-Marie. “Why are you hiding away at home when you should be out finding yourself a life?”
“It’s just so hard when you’re so use to the old one.”
“Well, sis, you need to get a new groove starting now.”
By focusing on her sister, Eva-Marie could avoid facing her pain at losing Makin.
She extended her hand out toward Polly, “Come on. We’re going to dance.”
All the time she was dancing to Cyndia Lauper, Polly couldn’t take her eyes off, Jon, still hugging the bar counter as if it were his life raft.
Eva-Marie was getting some attention on the dance floor from a lipstick lesbian. They seemed to be enjoying each other’s company. Polly felt like a third wheel.
Polly came to a decision. She couldn’t watch him another minute. She had to intervene. She marched over to him, just as Cold Chisel’s Khe Sanh was put on the turntable.
Polly held out her hand, “Come on. You can’t miss Cold Chisel.”
“Nah, I’m right. I prefer to keep to my own misery.”
Polly wasn’t taking any knock backs, she grabbed his clammy hand, dragging him toward the dance floor.
It took a while, but eventually he began to respond to the music. He wasn’t fighting it. He even smiled. She noticed the color begin to return to his face once more, and those baby blue eyes began to flicker with light.
When she got home, Polly found her children waiting for her. They looked worried. Toby went to make her a cup of coffee. She noticed that they had cleaned up the smashed record and hid her cigarettes.
“I’m fine! I just went out with your aunt.”
“Really? That must be a first,” put in Lizzie.
“That you know about. We weren’t always at odds with one another,” spoke their mother. “So, why aren’t you at the wedding reception?”
Toby brought over a cuppa, placing the mug in her hands, sitting down on the edge of the coffee table opposite his mother, “We told dad you could do anything in your psychotic state.”
Polly grinned, sipping her coffee, it was just right; Toby always knew how to make the perfect cup of coffee.
“Well, let me assure you both I am now quite sane. I shouldn’t have crashed the wedding…that wasn’t fair to the both of you.”
Lizzie smirked, “I wouldn’t worry, mum, they were back to acting all lovey, dovey again once you’d gone. It was sickening.”
“So, how about I order a pizza while you two find a movie,” spoke Polly, placing down her coffee cup. “Let’s eat a lot of junk food and think about the hips later. Being with you guys is all I need.”
In the loft, at the very top of the bar called Midnight, Eva-Marie was smoking a joint. She stared out at the shining lights of the pleasure strip below.
The room was in darkness reflecting the woman’s emotions. The only light source was that coming from her laptop where she had penned her latest piece of poetry, in French, of course.
The lipstick lesbian was cute, they had kissed a little but that was it. Eva-Marie’s heart was already taken.
A knock came from her front door, Eva-Marie went to open it, finding Makin standing there looking sheepish.
“Hi, honey! I hated the way we left things. I really need to talk to you.”
“And throw in a last hurrah in the sack?”
Makin approached her, caressing Eva-Marie’s face, “You know, the best sex is always the break up sex.”
Makin lent in toward the woman, kissing her soft, tender lips. Eva-Marie abruptly pulled away.
“I can’t let you inside…I need to hate you if I’m ever gonna get over you,” spoke the woman.
Eva-Marie slammed the door in her face, barely, containing her desire to fuck. She had to be brutal in order to cut the ties between them.
Then Eva-Marie had a thought, it wasn’t a particularly nice one, but right now the woman remembered just how big of a bitch she could be. She had allowed the love of this woman to tame her.
Eva-Marie picked up her mobile, punched in a number and waited for the other end to answer. She sneered when he spoke, “Hi…Herb have I got one hell of a story to tell you.”
To be continued….