Piping Her Tune

by Maggie Brown

  “Come dance with me,” Chantal said in a tone that indicated she expected no argument. With the flick of a switch, the strains of Celine Dion’s “The Power of Love” floated through the air.

  For a moment, Abby hesitated before she moved into her arms. Chantal splayed a hand against her back and pulled Abby forward to curve their bodies together. They swayed in a quiet rhythm as Chantal hummed to the tune in her ear. To Abby, it seemed she was being assailed with sensations. The feeling was so delicious she let it go on. She could pull out at any time and her friend deserved a little affection. She had come all the way to Hong Kong to see her; they both could enjoy a little comfort so long as it didn’t go too far. Chantal’s lips afforded the sweetest caresses and her touches were exquisite.

  As they moved to the music, Chantal began on Abby’s palms, first with hot breaths and then warm kisses. All the tender parts of her arms were lavished, the dips and hollows nipped and suckled, accompanied by whispered tender words of love. Chantal moved over Abby’s face, her neck, her ears, sometimes with mere fleeting touches, drawing sensations from the sensitive flesh like a violinist playing a concerto.

  Whispering, touching, kissing—on and on and on—so hypnotic that Abby was unaware she was slipping out of control. Then she was lying on the couch with Chantal on top, Chantal’s hand on her breast. When she felt the fingers squeeze her nipple, Abby came to her senses. “No…no, Chan, please stop.”

  The hand froze for a second, then began to fondle again as Chantal murmured in her ear. “Oh, darling, let me pleasure you. I’ll be gentle, I promise you.”

  Abby wriggled out from under Chantal, ignoring her muffled protests. She dropped to the floor with her back to couch. “I mean it. Please, I don’t want this.”

  Chantal’s voice was filled with indignation. “Look at me, Abby. Don’t you dare turn away.”

  Mortified, Abby slowly swivelled to gaze into the grey, angry eyes. “Um…I think we need to talk.”

  “That would be the understatement of the year. You knew how I felt about you. Why did you come tonight?”

  “Because…well…because I didn’t know how to say no. You’d made such an incredible effort to see me and I…I felt obliged to go out with you.”

  “Obliged? That’s a harsh word. So, am I not attractive to you?”

  Abby tilted her head as she forced herself to keep eye contact. She had hurt the woman badly. “It’s not that. You’re a beautiful woman and anyone would be proud to be your lover.”

  Chantal looked defeated. “But not you, obviously.”

  Abby blanched and ploughed on, Chantal deserved the truth. “I do love you but not in the way you want. I…I…like Victoria. I can’t help myself.”

  “From our phone calls I realized your attitude towards Vic was changing, but I didn’t think it had gone so far. Does she know how you feel?”

  “She’s aware that I like her. But it’s…it’s complicated.”

  “Huh! I don’t find that hard to believe. She’s difficult to have a relationship with. She was never able to let herself go completely when we were together. How do think she feels about you?”

  Abby swallowed back a twinge of jealousy as she pictured the two of them together. “Not letting go isn’t the problem with us. When we’re together it’s like…like spontaneous combustion. If she’s not there, it’s as if a light’s gone out in my world and I think she feels the same. When we kissed the other night, it was difficult not to go further. Well, it was me who pulled away because I didn’t want to be unfair to you. She even begged me to go to bed with her.” Seeing the look of misery on Chantal’s face, Abby was filled with guilt again. “Damn…I’m sorry. You don’t want to hear all this.”

  “Oui, it is hard for me to hear. Why can’t you love me, Abby? We are very well suited as friends.”

  “I think because you need someone to care for, to cherish. I want to be my lover’s equal and run the show occasionally. Your love would smother me in the end. Victoria and I disagree sometimes, but it’s different. It’s like we have to have a little one-upmanship in our relationship.”

  “So, have you been intimate with each other yet?”

  Abby felt tears prickle. “No, and we probably never will be. She told me if I came over to your hotel tonight, she was finished with me.”

  “And did you believe her?”

  “Yes. She was serious, not cranky, when she said it. She said she couldn’t take abandonment again.”

  “So why did you come?”

  Abby shook her head, suddenly tired. “Two reasons. The first, because I promised you I would. I wasn’t intending to sleep with you, just explain how I felt. I should have done that the moment I arrived. I shouldn’t have danced with you. I let things go too far. I’m so naïve it sickens me. I can’t understand why you and Victoria bother with someone as pathetic as me, to be quite honest.”

  “Never underestimate the power of goodness or freshness. And the second reason?”

  Abby sat up straighter, the mantle of weariness dropped away. “Because nobody has the right to stop me from doing what I feel is right, and I will not be manipulated, especially by Victoria. That’s not love, its ownership.”

  “Ah, but you allowed yourself to be bought. Is that not owning? You could have managed somehow, but you chose to take her money.”

  Abby felt the blood drain from her face and said in a hollow voice, “Yes, I did, and I’m going to have to live with the consequences. I lost my integrity, and as well, Victoria’s, yours and my mother’s respect by doing so. Mum warned me not to take the job. She said I wasn’t calling the tune and I’m beginning to understand what she meant. It isn’t a thing easily forgotten. The sad fact is, I should have agreed to go for the amount offered by the company without taking her extra contribution. The wage was more than enough to help set us up financially. But it was never about the money. I was too consumed with sparring with Victoria to think of doing it that way. She has that effect on me.”

  Chantal stood up and looked down at her. “I think perhaps you were very foolish. Now we’d better get some sleep. We both have to catch a plane in the morning and it is well after midnight. I will get you a pillow and blanket for the couch.”

  Abby nodded. “I’ll set the alarm on my phone and get away at daylight. I won’t wake you up.”

  Chantal returned with the bedclothes, Abby clasped her hand and a tear fell. “Are we still friends?”

  Chantal regarded her gravely. “Perhaps we should leave it. In a way it’s my own fault that you do not consider me as a suitor. I thought your naiveté was actually an inability to look after yourself, which was stupid and condescending of me. It will take me quite a while to get over tonight, I fear. Maybe one day we shall meet and can be friends again. Good night, Abby.”

  As Chantal’s light footstep faded, Abby began to cry.

  At five thirty in the morning, the first blush of dawn crept through the nearly silent street in front of the hotel. Abby stepped out of the lift, took her shoes off and quietly pushed open the door of the apartment. She tiptoed across the tiled hallway floor to the lounge. Fiona always rose at six but Victoria liked a little more sleep; plenty of time to change her clothes before they came out. With luck they wouldn’t realize she had spent the night at Chantal’s hotel. She looked round; so far so good, the room was empty. A noise made her turn to the dining area and she shuddered. Victoria stood at the breakfast bar, fully dressed, a cup in her hand and her face stern.

  Abby waved nonchalantly as she continued to walk to her room. She didn’t make the door before the question cut through the air.

  “Just getting in?”

  Abby, determined not to be put on the back foot, smiled sweetly as if creeping in with her shoes in her hand was as common as chips. “Yes. I’ll see you in a bit.”

  “Come and have a cup of coffee. You look like you need one.”

  Abby couldn’t help glancing down at her crumpled clothes. Damn! Sleeping in them hadn’t helpe
d. “I’m fine. I have to get on with my packing.”

  “Now please, Abby, I have something to say.” The words were said with authority, in a pitch Victoria ordinarily reserved for difficult clients.

  Abby darted her eyes to the door of her room. She felt like she was ten again being scolded by her mother. She dipped her head in resignation. I may as well face the music now. Victoria will never let it go. “Yes, ma’am,” she said with more bravado than she felt.

  Victoria drummed her finger on the marble top. “So, how was Chantal? You stayed the night, did you?”

  Abby cast a quick glance at her face. Vic looked angry, but there was something else…something that seemed a lot like disappointment or perhaps something even deeper. Abby decided the best defence was attack. “If you have something to say to me, Vic, use a civil tone. If you want to know my business, ask me properly.”

  “If you stayed the night, you would have slept with her.”

  “Why?”

  “Because she’s so damn beautiful she can get anyone she wants and she’s fabulous in bed.”

  A stab of jealousy shot through Abby again. “You’re judging me on your experience? You’re not the yardstick by which everyone measures themselves.”

  “Huh! Have a good look at yourself, Abby. Women like her eat inexperienced poor things like you for breakfast. You wouldn’t have lasted two minutes in her room before she had you panting out her name.”

  Abby swallowed, remembering Chantal’s caresses and how difficult it had been to ask her to stop. “Not necessarily.”

  Victoria ran her fingers through her hair, clearly upset. “I can’t understand you. You kissed me like I mean something to you and then you spend the night with her.”

  “Because I stayed at her hotel doesn’t mean we made love,” Abby muttered.

  “What’s love got to do with it? It’s about sex. You’re so innocent you haven’t a clue what that means in the real world. You live in a schoolgirl fantasyland where everyone lives happily ever after.”

  Abby struggled to remain composed. “Don’t judge me, Vic. I’m not a child. There is nothing wrong with having hopes and dreams.”

  “And you think all your dreams will come true now that you’ve shared Chantal’s bed?”

  “I didn’t sleep with her. I like her but I don’t look at her romantically.”

  Victoria leaned forward until they were nearly touching. “I expected at least honesty from you, Abby. I don’t believe you could have said no to Chantal. As far as I’m concerned, you betrayed me by going over there last night.”

  Those last words were too much for Abby. She placed her hands on Victoria’s shoulders and pushed her away. “I don’t give a damn.”

  They stared at each other for a long moment. “I’ll see you at the airport,” said Victoria in a quavering voice. She turned abruptly, picked up her briefcase, and strode out of the apartment.

  Abby sank down onto the chair, horrified. She put her head in her hands and cried in agony. “Love’s got everything to do with it, you foolish woman.”

  Chapter Twenty-Three

  The tension between Abby and Victoria continued unabated into China. They landed at the Beijing airport at noon. Fiona, uncharacteristically quiet, must have picked up on the emotional vibes.

  Big feathers of snow were falling. Their cab barely crawled through the traffic, which didn’t help matters. Eventually the taxi nosed into a parking space in front of their modern hotel, The Opposite House. It was a green glass cube of a building, trendy and up-market with American oak bathtubs, mood lighting and airy rooms. Fiona had ensured that the rooms they shared were outfitted with twin beds. This was to be their base, as the majority of the country’s three thousand steel mills were situated in the east and most head offices were in Beijing.

  In the first week, the long days were filled with bargaining for iron ore contracts at office tables and boardrooms, but each night was an ordeal for Abby. Although her anger dimmed, Victoria remained distant. Abby found the emotional strain increasingly difficult to handle and began to realize how much her night with Chantal had damaged their friendship. Victoria had warned her, but she’d been too stubborn to listen.

  To make matters worse, the hotel suite had an open-air plan; the bathroom was behind a partition which didn’t allow much privacy. And while the loo was separate, it wasn’t exactly soundproof either. Abby couldn’t believe she could be living in such close proximity with someone yet could feel so lonely. In public, Victoria was friendly, though businesslike; in private, she was aloof and remote. After two weeks, sick of being ostracised, Abby decided to try to mend fences.

  It was early evening when Victoria came back from her swim. Abby poured glasses of wine and handed her one. “Try this. It’s a local vintage.”

  For a second it looked like Victoria was going to refuse, but she gave a halfhearted nod and took it. “Thanks.” Then she opened the paper at the crossword.

  “I’m reading Amy Tan’s The Joy Luck Club, to get a feel for the place,” said Abby brightly.

  “I’ve read it,” said Fiona, “though you will find Jung Chang’s Wild Swans more informative as it spans three generations.”

  “I’ll have to wait until we’re out of the country—the book’s banned in China.”

  “A bit late I’d say. The novel’s been translated into thirty-seven languages.” Fiona picked up a stack of mail, “But then there’s a lot of confusing things here. Have you seen these ruddy Chinese stamps? I can’t decide if they’re upside down or right-side up!”

  Abby suppressed a laugh and looked at Victoria. She was chewing the end of her pen, frowning at the paper. Right, one last try! “Wanna come with Fiona and me to the see the Forbidden City, Vic?”

  Victoria didn’t look up as she answered, “No thanks. I’ve got work to do.”

  “Come on,” cajoled Fiona. “We haven’t seen much since coming to China.”

  Victoria placed her pen on the coffee table and folded the paper. “I’m fine. Go and enjoy yourselves. Now have a look at the menu and tell me what you want for dinner. I’ll ring room service after I have a shower.”

  Abby rolled her eyes at Fiona after she disappeared out the door. “I’m at the stage I’m just about ready to kill her.”

  “You’ve never mentioned what happened between the two of you. By the way she’s behaving it must have been serious.”

  “It was a total misunderstanding,” said Abby with a dismissive, vague wave of her hand. “She took offence at something I…ah…said, and now she’s got her knickers in a knot.”

  “She’ll come round then. She’s not one to harbour a grudge for long,” said Fiona. “Now, what time shall we be off tomorrow?”

  “From the size of the brochure, I’d say all day, so let’s leave by eight.”

  The Forbidden City did take the full day to see. The February weather was still cold, though the worst of the winter had passed. Abby was pleased it wasn’t the full-on tourist season; she could imagine how uncomfortable it would be contending with perpetual crowds. When they climbed the steps to the Hall of Supreme Harmony, she gave Fiona a poke. “Look at the name. We should have dragged Victoria along.”

  “Aye, we should have. And to this one too,” said Fiona, pointing to the map. “It’s called the Palace of Earthly Tranquillity.”

  For the next month the pattern was much the same, and although Victoria softened a little, she remained remote. Fiona and Abby did trips to the Great Wall, Terracotta Warriors and other touristy sites on the weekends, and Abby began to go to Fiona’s room at night to talk before she retired. Even though she tried to ignore the hurt, Victoria’s attitude eventually got the better of Abby. She became fed up with China—everything about the place began to irritate her. She couldn’t see any beauty, only the teeming masses and pollution. She wished they didn’t have to stay so long in the country, but large contracts were nearly impossible to obtain. This meant smaller ones had to be won and negotiations seemed to drag on
and on. Finally, Abby had to face the truth: any hope of reconciliation with Victoria had disappeared.

  * * *

  The wall of indifference Victoria had built grew harder to maintain as each day passed. Neither her feeling of betrayal nor her desire for Abby had diminished. The agony of living in such close proximity was excruciating. Privacy was in short supply; Abby’s outline in the shower and her skimpy nightclothes were enough to send her off her head. Her only defence was to whip up images of Chantal and Abby to stoke her anger. But as the younger woman receded into her own world, one that excluded her, Vic realized what she had done. She had, by her bloody small-mindedness, effectively wrecked any hope of salvaging any relationship. All she had left was her pride. And she refused to crawl back to Abby, only to risk more rejection.

  Then, after six weeks in China, Abby approached her one morning at the breakfast table. “Do you think I could stay home with Fiona while you visit the Anshan Mill? She could do with help. You’ll only be there for two days and the manager speaks English well enough.”

  The request was the last straw for Victoria. Her detached attitude was forgotten as a burst of anger flared. How dare she think she can choose not to go. “No way,” she responded sternly. “You’re coming with me so don’t you dare damn well wriggle out of this one. I need you there.”

  Abby’s mouth sagged, her face bunched into a scowl. “No, you don’t. We’ve already negotiated the terms. The inspection is only for show.”

  “It’s your job, so do it properly.”

  “What do you care if I’m with you? You don’t acknowledge that I’m even in the room most of the time.”

  “And whose fault is that? You just sit at your desk and sulk.”

  “Sulk? What rot. I’ve had just about enough of your cold shoulder.”

  “Don’t you dare turn it around as though it’s my fault.”