by Kiki Archer
Julie badly stifled her laughter.
Camila coughed. She knew the conversation with her sons was coming, but around the table eating bacon sandwiches with Julie on a Tuesday morning was not the time she’d choose to tell one son that she was indeed having something with Harriet, and what that something was she still wasn’t sure, so any announcement would be premature. If she was honest, she’d toyed with the idea of telling them everything from the start: how it had happened, why it had happened, the fact that she was enjoying it happening, but then she realised she wouldn’t have gone into that much detail had Harriet been a man. She’d have kept her private life private from her sons until the time came when she knew it was serious enough to invite him over. The fact they’d met Harriet on numerous occasions already was simply an offshoot of her being female. A female friend. “She’s just a female friend,” said Camila. “But if she does like me I’d be flattered.”
“Would you go there, Mum?”
Camila nodded. “Yes, Ethan, I think I would.”
“Cool.”
Julie didn’t disguise her look of confusion. “Wait. That’s it?”
Camila ignored her. Her son was eating his sandwich as if they hadn’t just had the exchange, which was heartening in a way, but also made her question why she’d not told both sons sooner. The non-stop madness between her and Harriet had been going on for over three weeks now. Did she owe the boys an insight into her behaviour? She paused for a moment, remembering some of that behaviour. There was no way they needed that insight.
Julie piped up again. “Well anyway, she won’t want to go there for much longer if you don’t give her a bloody invention.”
“I’m trying.”
“Just figure out what pisses you off.”
Camila resisted the urge to say: you. You, Julie, with your bad language in front of my son. You, Julie, with your digs about homosexuality. You, Julie, as you sit and eat the bacon sandwich I made for my eldest.
“You’re pissed off with him,” continued her neighbour.
“I am not,” said Camila, reaching out to ruffle her youngest son’s hair.
“Stop it, Mum.”
“He’s always on his bloody tablet.”
“He’s fourteen. For the past two years I’ve let them both decide how much time they spend on it.”
“And how’s that working out for you?”
“It’s the world they live in. You want me to invent an invention that bans technology?”
Julie shrugged. “Something that shows you how much time they’ve spent on it. Good for younger kids too.”
Camila bit into her sandwich. “That’s not…” She put the sandwich back down. “Wait…”
Julie carried on. “Allow kids a certain number of hours a day – all dependent on their age and whatnot, and they choose how and when they have it.”
Ethan spoke up. “You did that already. That reward chart. Remember.”
Julie laughed. “Bloody shit that was. Your mum’s chart didn’t work at all. You’d need something technical.”
Camila got up from the table and started to pace. “I had to clock watch didn’t I, and then I’d forget, or I’d go off to do something and they’d say they’d had an hour but—”
“We always had much longer than an hour,” interrupted Ethan.
Camila waved her hands. “Yes, because there was no real way of keeping a check. Not a way that wasn’t a pain or a faff.” She nodded quickly. “A box? A box that stores hand-held technology. iPads, mobiles, PS Vitas, your Nintendo DS. When you take the gadget out of the box a timer’s triggered.”
Julie laughed. “And you’re going to invent that are you? Too bloody complicated.”
Camila paced faster, her hands waving harder. “It’s not. You’d just need a small microchip sticker. You stick that sticker onto the device. Here, give me your iPad, Ethan.” Camila took the screen. “Imagine a little sticker just here, or wherever really. But this sticker, with its microchip, senses when the thing is taken, I don’t know, say a metre away from the box, and sets off the timer. The box has a screen on top with each child’s name and each child’s piece of technology and will show you how long each piece of technology has been out of the box.”
Ethan took another bite of his sandwich. “I’d just sit next to the box and go on it.”
“Fine, five centimetres away from the box then.”
Julie shrugged. “Wouldn’t work.”
“Why not?”
“You’re not a microchip engineer.”
“No, but other people are. Think about security tags. The ones on those expensive men’s razor blades. They’re just stickers. It’s a sticker with a whirling metal thing in it. The cashier forgets to deactivate it and it sets off the alarm as you’re trying to leave.”
“So?”
“So basically that technology’s not difficult, or expensive. You break the distance connection between the technology and the box and the timer starts. You put the technology back in the box and it stops. The screen on top of the box has a running timer showing each child and each child’s technology.”
Ethan took another bite of sandwich. “There’s a problem. If your technology’s in the box all the time it’ll run out of batteries.”
Camila clapped her hands together. “It’ll have a power adapter inside, like a big adaptor plug. Your chargers stay in there.” She nodded frantically. “That solves the problem of chargers lying all over the place too. Your technology’s charging in the box, you take it out and go on it, it tracks how long you’ve been on it until you return it to the box.”
Ethan spoke again. “What about the xBox and the Wii?”
“They’re in the lounge. It’s easier to keep track of the time your kids are watching TV or playing on big consoles. What’s hard is the hand-held stuff that they take into their bedrooms.” She turned to her neighbour. “Julie, why are you so quiet.”
Julie shrugged. “Might work, I guess.”
“Bloody hell, Julie, it would bloody work! It would fast become a staple in every bloody household!”
“Mum!”
“Sorry, Ethan, but THIS IS IT! The Technology Box!”
Julie tutted. “You’d need a better name than that.”
“No. It does exactly what it says on the tin. The Technology Box. Every household would have one! It contains your chargers and charges your stuff, it keeps a log on how long the technology’s been away from the box. It would work. It would be incredible. I’d buy one. Everyone would buy one. I need to go.” Camila squealed loudly. “I need to bloody well go!”
****
Camila hadn’t remembered the drive to the office, or where she’d parked her car. She couldn’t even remember if Helen had replied to her hello as she’d dashed into the building before pounding on the button to call the lift. What she could remember was spending the entire ride bouncing on her tip toes before flinging herself out onto the corridor and dashing towards the team’s area. She’d arrived earlier than usual but they were all there, Harriet included. She had toyed with the idea of calling Harriet on her hands-free in the car but she’d spent the time finalising the vision of the Technology Box in her head so she could articulate her idea with confidence and credibility, and now, looking around at the faces of Deana, Brett, Geoff and Harriet, she was glad she had. There was a spark of excitement in their eyes and Harriet had a smile that was knowing. She smiled back. This was a good idea. Everyone knew this was a good idea.
Harriet spoke first. “Deana, patent search. Brett, drawings. Geoff, engineering. Camila, come to my office.”
Camila watched as her three colleagues rushed back to their pods before following Harriet’s fast march out of the area. “You think it’s a good idea?” she said, trotting as quickly as she could after her boss.
“Shush.”
Camila upped her pace. “It’s a good idea.”
“Shush,” said Harriet again, now almost at a run.
“What are you doing?�
� laughed Camila, now having to run to keep up.
“Stop laughing,” said Harriet, pumping her arms to propel herself along faster before lunging at the door handle to her office and charging inside. She turned to yank Camila into the office with her. “Now laugh!” wailed Harriet, slamming the door shut.
Camila felt herself enveloped in Harriet’s tight hug. Harriet was jumping them both up and down. They were jumping and laughing, and kissing and groping, and stumbling towards the conference table at the side of Harriet’s office.
“You did it,” cheered Harriet. “You’ve done it.”
“But the patent,” muttered Camila between the heated contact.
Harriet continued to kiss. “It’s a new idea. I just know it is.”
Camila let herself be manhandled towards the table top. “You like it?”
“I love it. It’s incredible. It’s incredible like you. I love it like you.”
Camila felt herself groan with desire. Whether Harriet meant it romantically or professionally, or even sexually she didn’t at this exact moment care as Harriet had flipped her around and was now bending her over the table, riding her dress up as she pulled down on her knickers.
“I fucking love you,” said Harriet once more.
“So fuck me,” gasped Camila, spreading her hands out across the table as Harriet reached up to her shoulder, holding it tight before forcing Camila’s body back onto her fingers. Camila cried out in pleasure.
Harriet brought her mouth down to Camila’s ear as she continued to thrust. She bit on the lobe before whispering. “And I’m going to fuck you for the rest of your life.”
Chapter Thirty-Three
Sipping on her second coffee of the morning, Camila prayed the caffeine would kick in quickly. The past twenty-four hours had been frantic, with very little sleep; mostly because of all the sex, but also because of the fast-paced nature of the invention advancements. Camila repeated the phrase in her head: invention advancements. Maybe if she hadn’t stayed awake after a day of frenzied work in the office she wouldn’t be on her third take with producer Lydia. Camila said it out loud: “Invention advancements.”
“Do you want me to say that bit?” asked Harriet from her co-presenter position beside Camila.
“No, I’ve got it.” She nodded. “There have been so many invention advancements over the past twenty-four hours.”
“Perfect,” said Lydia, “and then, Harriet, I want you to go into more detail.”
Camila placed her coffee on the table they were standing behind before smiling as the camera was raised. She was glad she only had to get that phrase out. Harriet had a much harder job, catching viewers up with all of the latest goings-on. And a lot had been happening. An initial patent search had shown the idea was unique. The feasibility assessment had shown the idea was worth pursuing. Geoff’s concept development was now in full swing with Brett’s patent drawings running alongside this. A team of engineers were in the office working on the prototype and a marketing team was there too working on ads and promotion. Camila smiled. It was so similar to an episode of The Apprentice: people split off into subgroups, all with the aim of bringing the Technology Box to fruition. She smiled again. Her idea. So many people working on her idea. It was thrilling, and even if she hadn’t been up having sex with Harriet all night she knew she wouldn’t have slept much anyway.
Camila had phoned her older sister at lunchtime the day before, explaining as quickly as she could the need to get the patent application in to the Intellectual Property Office, meaning it was all hands on deck and she’d be really grateful if her sister could come round and stay with the boys in case she didn’t make it home that evening. Polly had unfortunately claimed to be busy even after a number of pointed reminders from Camila about the numerous times she’d stepped in to look after her nieces and nephews. Nothing, however, could convince her sister to change her mind. Camila ended the conversation seriously considering the possibility that Polly was jealous. Admittedly they’d not spoken much over the past few weeks and she probably felt out of the loop, but this was a crisis. Camila stopped herself. It hadn’t ended up being a crisis as they’d all left the office at ten and Julie had stayed over, so she’d been free to spend an entire night at Harriet’s.
Camila coughed as the camera was lowered for a lighting tweak. She picked up her coffee and sipped. Bless Julie. She’d been the one to call her yesterday to ask if they needed any help, even offering to bring a batch of bacon butties to the office from her van. This had led onto the childcare question with Julie simply saying “consider it done” without even a query. She’d then stayed on the phone taking a real interest: what was happening, had the idea been patented, how long until the idea was officially confirmed as theirs and so on and so forth. She was interested, she cared and, for all her faults, Julie was a good friend. Camila glanced at Harriet. Julie had enabled the sexfest that was last night.
Holding her blink for a moment too long, Camila shuddered at the memory. Not only had the whole evening been super-hot with no time, volume or space constraints, but it had been super romantic with Harriet opening up about her feelings. Camila had accepted that Harriet’s frantic declaration of love yesterday morning over the conference desk was more an explosion of emotion than a real life feeling. Harriet had been overwhelmed by the Technology Box idea, she’d been thrilled that her protégé had come through, she’d been high on adrenaline and triumph… she hadn’t meant to say that she loved her. Camila glanced at Harriet again. They hadn’t actually addressed it last night and this was all her own speculation, but Harriet had opened up about being slightly quieter than usual, saying she’d been processing her thoughts and feelings about Camila. She’d said she was hooked. That was the word she had used: hooked. Overly enamoured. Lost in her. Content. She’d said Camila was special. One of a kind. A magical soul. The whole thing had been romantic and really rather moving, but Harriet hadn’t said she was in love, which was actually quite a relief for Camila.
Turning to her boss once again, Camila smiled. There was definitely something between them. A connection that went deeper than sex. A feeling that went further than lust. An awareness that they did have a future. But after all the years with the same man, Camila wasn’t sure she was ready to declare her love for a woman so soon. She continued to stare. There was a high chance she was falling in love with Harriet, but putting the tag infatuated or obsessed on things made it easier at this point. Plus, she was having fun. Adding an emotional label might suddenly make matters more serious and she’d had so many years of serious; this was her time to let loose and love life. Yes, she currently didn’t want to do that with anyone other than Harriet, but right now everything was just perfect.
Harriet adjusted her glasses. “You’re smiling at me.”
“I’m just happy. Everything’s so great.”
“Isn’t it just,” said Harriet, before turning to Lydia. “How much longer please? We’ve got a lot to do.”
“Sorry, there’s a problem with the lighting. Two minutes.”
“There’s so much I want to say,” whispered Harriet, her focus back on Camila.
“Don’t we have to be careful until the patent confirmation comes back?”
“I didn’t mean that, but yes in general conversation with people we do, but not on camera as this episode won’t get shown until Saturday and by that time our patent will be filed. The whole process to get the full patent can take years, but it matters who filed first; however, we can’t file until we have all the patent drawings and concept details, hence the frantic rush with all hands on deck.”
“You can put your hands on my deck any day of the week,” whispered Camila.
“I plan on doing that every day of the week,” returned Harriet.
Lydia interrupted them. “Ladies, we’re good to go.”
Camila returned her coffee to the table and smiled at the camera, starting her short monologue on Lydia’s command. “We’re absolutely thrilled to announce that we
have our invention and as you can see from the hubbub going on around us, there are non-stop invention advancements occurring minute on minute.”
Harriet took over. “The Technology Box that Brett’s drawings outlined earlier will fast become a staple in every household with young children. It charges the technology and it also keeps a check on the time children have spent on that technology. Obviously it’s up to each parent or carer to decide how long their children are allowed on the various devices, but at a reasonable price point there’s very little reason not to invest, even if just as a storage box to contain the growing numbers of handheld devices and chargers.”
Camila cut in. “Nothing worse than having cables lying around everywhere, then losing the cables, then arguing about the cables.” She nodded. “The cables are in the Technology Box. You’ll be able to choose the pattern on your Technology Box to fit in with the style of your room, a bit like those credit cards where you can upload a personal photo.”
“You see,” continued Harriet, to the camera. “This one’s full of ideas. Have you literally just thought of that?”
Camila smiled. “Yes.”
Harriet turned and hollered at the web design team across the room. “When you order online make sure there’s a section for the buyer to personalise the design of the box.” She returned her focus. “You see; it’s go, go, go here. However, we must remember that the most important thing isn’t actually the new invention, as amazing and innovative as it is. It’s the fact that we here at H.I.Pvention can get your design from idea creation to patented prototype with absolute ease. H.I.Pvention will fast become the number one go-to design and innovation firm for the individual inventor. There’s a huge market for the new business, and now, thanks to this lady sitting beside me, I’m confident we’re going to win the Budding Businesses show.”
Camila smiled. “The Technology Box was my idea, and I’m really glad.”
“But it’s been more than your idea,” continued Harriet. “You’ve breathed a breath of fresh air into the team.” She smiled. “You’ve breathed a breath of fresh air into me.”
