But She Is My Student

by Kiki Archer

  Ben closed his eyes and rested his head against the smooth marble rim of the jacuzzi, exhausted from the giggles. Kat was clearly embarrassed by his suggestive comments and had turned the setting down to gentle flow, which he had to admit was actually very relaxing indeed. He was completely immersed in the healing properties of the soft mineral massage jets and spoke quietly, ‘So did you girls get to meet up last weekend?’

  Kat had been pulling the soft, sweet smelling, bubbles through her fingers as he spoke and his words made her freeze and look up. She glanced at Freya, ‘No...’ Ben looked like he was almost asleep. She returned her gaze to the bubbles and spoke quietly, ‘...unfortunately we didn’t.’

  Freya read the message in her eyes; maybe Kat was finally ready. She felt the strong beat of anticipation in her heart and moved her hand along the smooth curved seat under the water. Her little finger found Kat’s. Kat did not move. Freya felt her heart racing as she climbed Kat’s hand further, gently running her fingers up towards her wrist.

  Kat thought she had been mistaken at first, but this deliberate tender touch was no mistake. Every second seemed like a lifetime and she allowed herself to enjoy the butterflies that were coursing through her body, firing sparkling impulses to every sensor in her skin. She allowed herself to get lost in the moment; allowed herself, for those split seconds, to indulge in Freya’s touch. Then it hit her with a crushing realisation, ‘Sorry you two, it is getting too warm in here for me,’ she paused and looked at the clock, ‘...it’s nearly time for my massage anyway.’ She stood up to leave.

  Ben opened his eyes, aware that he had possibly nodded off, ‘Is it a naked one?’

  She flicked some warm bubbly water at his chest as she passed, hoping he would feel responsible for her embarrassed red cheeks.

  Kat lay on the massage table and let the strong, smooth hands sooth away her worries. Her muscles were relaxing, her tensions were easing and she felt the soft music calling her into a state of deep relaxation that she had not felt in months. She had to acknowledge it; it was the only thing affecting her fantastic time at Coldfield and it needed to be addressed. She re-lived the energised touch. The breakthrough she thought she had achieved at Gail’s watching Bea kissing Freya had been short lived and it was getting harder to suppress her growing feelings and more difficult to restrain her natural desires; especially on days like today where Freya was simply magnetising. She had been funny and mature, smart and sexy and Kat had once again questioned the boundary. She let her mind wander as the essential oils penetrated her muscles and delivered a feeling of pure calmed bliss.

  She had walked from the massage treatment room and past the salt water pool with a new found air of lightness, a far cry from the tense, uptight walk of the morning. She headed into the empty steam room and exhaled; it had been an incredible massage. She sat quietly and the wet heat caused a bead of perspiration to slide slowly down her chest. She closed her eyes and inhaled the hot air. She heard the heavy door click closed; Freya walked in silently and sat down next to her. Her white tie bikini was displaying, once again, the perfect stomach and smooth skin that she remembered and her heart pounded as she felt Freya’s hand again upon her own, climbing her wrist and her arm; all resolve was gone. She moaned as Freya ran her smooth fingers up her neck and deep into her hair, making her body tilt back and arch with desire. There was an intense burning desire in her green eyes and she kissed Kat passionately, with fire, with a yearning that had been building and building in both of them until this moment; this moment of pure passion where their lips met and their tongues devoured. Kat couldn’t stop. Freya smoothly straddled her lap with her knees on the bench, legs either side of her pounding stomach. She gently pushed Kat’s damp hair back behind her ears and kissed her neck, tenderly, longingly, with her purposeful lips finally reaching Kat’s black bikini strap. Freya slid it delicately off her shoulder exposing her wanting breast. She found Kat’s mouth again and gently ran her fingers down her glistening chest, slowly inching further and further until she curved to the side and cupped her open breast, kneading her nipple with her thumb. Kat gasped, this was what she wanted. She could not stop it. Freya kissed her shoulder and then her chest, with her tongue slowly following her fingers to Kat’s nipple. She took it completely in her mouth. Kat leant her head against the damp wall and bit her lip, the pleasure was intense. Freya moved her hand slowly down Kat’s stomach, gently sliding lower and lower until she reached the top of her bikini pants. She played with the rim, teasing the material, moving her fingers around the edge, suddenly pushing down and sliding deep into...

  Kat jumped up, ‘IDIOT!’ she shouted opening her eyes and reaching for the door. The cool air of the room hit her hard and bit her burning cheeks. Freya was climbing out of the salt pool and walked towards her, ‘I don’t know how to say this but I just know I have to ... you look incredible Kat.’

  ‘Well don’t! And it’s Miss Spicer to you!’ she snapped storming off to the changing rooms cursing her own foolish fantasy.

  Freya stood shattered, the pain of hurt and embarrassment too much to handle. She dived back into the water and let out a scream of agony. The cool temperature did nothing to sooth her flaming cheeks and aching heart. She surfaced briefly and lunged again to the bottom, curling into a tight ball, desperately trying to halt the slow rise to the top where the truth was waiting, glaring and obvious; Kat didn’t feel it, time to grow up.

  Freya opened her eyes and saw Miss Mews’s long face rippling on the surface. She exhaled and slowly rose to the top, watching the real world come painfully into focus. She gasped.

  ‘Are you ok?’ Fiona Mews asked falsely.

  Freya ran her fingers through her soaking hair, staring at the ugly horse face of Miss Mews. She suddenly realised why she looked even worse than normal. The garish orange and yellow scarf had disappeared to reveal a large walnut sized mole on her neck, with three long wet hairs hanging from its centre.

  Fiona noted Freya’s stare and sneered, ‘Lovers tiff was it?’

  She began to push off from the side.

  ‘If you ever need to make a complaint just pass it on, I will be more than happy to let the relevant authorities know.’

  ‘Oh piss off Miss Mews,’ Freya did not care, ‘and by the way you seem to have some food stuck to your neck.’ She darted through the water to the other side of the pool, jumped out and spotted Mr Puller in the hydro room. She explained her stomach ache, which Ben said he required no further details of, changed quickly and left Cross Hall in the comfort of her warm, safe, pale blue Clio; embarrassment and hurt quickly turning to disbelief and anger.

  Kat threw on the luxurious white dressing gown and slippers that had been handed to her on arrival, and relishing neither made her way to the award winning seventh heaven restaurant. She felt strangely attired but gently reassured when greeted by the other towelled diners. She stood at the counter gazing, but not paying attention to the carefully colour coded food, green for good, amber for ok and red for don’t you dare. She picked up her black coffee, shuffled across the marble floor and sank into a deluxe cream sofa, almost hidden in the corner of the tranquil room; the strangest restaurant she had ever been in. She felt dreadful. She had lost control. She had opened the lid of her tightly sealed box of emotions, peeped inside and now here they were, out, racing around, no chance of ever being contained. Kat couldn’t switch it off. She realised with every inch of her being that she wanted Freya; she was in love with Freya. Her mind, with its perfectly rational arguments, had lost the battle with her heart. She felt it. It was real. The conflict was torture.

  Freya pulled into the massive driveway and heard the small stones churn under the wheels as the car stopped abruptly. She had been a complete idiot, an infatuated idoliser, so caught up with the impossibly unattainable Kat that she had failed to acknowledge the perfect reality within reach; the beauty of Bea. The huge oak door opened before she could reach the magnificent wrought iron door knocker.

  Bea stood in si
lence assessing a very bedraggled Freya, she smelt of chlorine. ‘Hi.’

  ‘Can I come in?’ The request was timid and apologetic.

  ‘Of course,’ she smiled opening the door, revealing the charming entrance hall with its low ceilings, open beams and worn oriental rugs. ‘So I didn’t miss much then?’

  ‘What do you mean?’ said Freya suddenly conscious of her appearance.

  ‘Well you should still be relaxing at the glorious Cross Hall.’ Bea had been many times before and the novelty had worn off. She had opted for a personal study day instead and was one of the few who actually made proper use of it. ‘Has something happened?’

  Freya didn’t know what to say, it had all been so clear in the car on the way over; she needed to see Bea, to tell Bea she was sorry, to feel Bea wanting her, needing her, desiring her - unlike Kat who clearly hated her. ‘Is there any chance I can have a shower?’

  Freya stood in Bea’s pristine Jack and Jill en-suite bathroom, pulling on the most comfortable grey velour bottoms she had ever felt. She had no idea Yves Saint Laurent did tracksuits and absolutely no inclination of their cost. She tied her wet hair in a loose knot and peeped inside the mirrored cabinet fixed to the shiny black and white porcelain tiles and squirted herself with Bea’s Miracle. She loved the scent – ‘Modern. Sophisticated. Light-filled. Serene. The splendour of magnolias, serenely balanced by warm, amber notes.’ She put the box back down. Maybe that was the problem; both Kat and Bea wore sophisticated, grown up perfumes and her own Dolly Girl, that described itself as carefree and mischievous, was possibly too childish, reminding Kat of the Chianne Grangers of the world who wore Britney, Kylie, Fergie and Jordan, all brought in bulk from Brownhills market. Freya stopped herself and pictured Kat’s face as she had angrily put her back in her place, disgusted by her suggestive compliment and over familiar address; no, snap out of it, focus on reality, this is going to be a Kat free Christmas.

  ‘Did you not bring your bag?’ asked Bea leaning across the large white bed to her iPod docking station, switching Vivaldi’s Four Seasons to Rebecca Ferguson’s Heaven.

  ‘Yeah, but it’s in my car.’

  ‘What the car all of that distance away on my drive?’ laughed Bea.

  ‘Sorry. I just wanted to come in and see you and then I couldn’t be bothered to go back out, and you do have such lovely clothes!’ Freya spoke mischievously hopping onto the white quilted divan. ‘I’ve been an idiot and I’m sorry.’ She looked at Bea dressed casually but beautifully and finally accepted the truth. Bea had not been judging or critical of her despicable behaviour following their kiss and she had also not been pushy and analytical about the kiss, which Freya realised would have been very difficult. Bea had just been patient, understanding and kind.

  ‘It’s ok, I know how hard all of this must be for you.’

  ‘Oh Bea, I don’t deserve you as a friend,’ she moved up to the soft head board and into the open arms.

  ‘I am here for you whenever you need to talk and I will listen to whatever you have to say. I know what it’s like being attracted to a woman for the first time and it’s scary.’ She squeezed Freya’s shoulders.

  ‘I know, and I am attracted to you.’

  She hadn’t been referring to herself. ‘Are you sure?’ she asked quietly.

  ‘Yes,’ she whispered gently placing her lips on Bea’s.

  Chapter 17

  The exotic buffet was prepared, the mismatched glasses were laid out and the fridge was jam-packed full of drinks. The apartment lounge rang with laughter. Kat, Lucy, Jess, Gary and Ben chimed their glasses together, surrounded by the handmade Christmas decorations that Jess had pinched from school. They toasted each other in preparation for a memorable night; the first guests due any minute.

  ‘So tell me again,’ beamed Lucy, already starting to feel tipsy, ‘exactly, second by second how did he do it?’

  Jess looked lovely. Her auburn hair was tied up loosely with some soft curls falling to her shoulders. The flattering navy blue polka dot dress from the maternity section of H&M fitted perfectly; the eating for two had started early. Jess glowed each time she told the story. ‘Well, we stayed in this quaint little B&B in Ullswater, the owner was called Marjory and every morning she would say, “Morning Gary, morning Jess,” and you would have to say, “Morning Marjory,” before she would offer the choice of cereals.’ The funny Marjory voice continued, ‘Anyway that was all charming and we spent our mornings wrapped up walking around the lakes and our afternoons cuddled up in Marjory’s lounge under Marjory’s multi coloured crochet throw, playing with Marjory’s well worn board games.’ She beamed at Gary, ‘It was idyllic.’

  Gary looked like he was about to offer an anecdote but Jess carried on in her animated fashion, clearly overjoyed to recall every last minute of their perfect Christmas break.

  ‘Then on Christmas Day after Marjory’s home cooked Christmas dinner Gary took me up to the Aira Force Waterfall and as we stood on the thin cobbled bridge, water crashing either side of us, my knight in shining armour got down on one knee and proposed, box in hand.’ Jess flashed her modest sparkler once again to Lucy who had a tear in her eye. ‘It was perfect. I am so happy and I can’t wait for March 29!’ she squealed shaking Gary’s knee.

  They wanted a very small ceremony in the local registry office followed by a meal at the plush Paris restaurant in town; both knew where they would rather be spending their money, but had realised some wedding effort did need to be made.

  Ben looked devilishly handsome in his crisp white shirt and black bowtie. ‘Well we are all thrilled for you and so will everyone else be.’ He cheered and raised his glass of potent mulled wine.

  Jess glugged her orange juice and shivered with nervous anticipation, ‘They know something is going on, I mean me inviting Uncle Barry for a New Years Eve Party, as if!’

  ‘Oh no is Uncle Barry coming?’ shrieked Lucy pouring her third glass of the expensive stuff, she had gone for the sexy Miss Money Penny look to compliment her very own James Bond.

  ‘Hey that’s for the toast,’ teased Gary, just thrilled with the way everything was turning out. He had loved Jess for an eternity and always knew he wanted children and teamed with his recent internal promotion he felt he had it all. ‘I am a man on top of the world,’ he had declared to Ben when the girls were making their finishing preening touches to carefully thought out New Year’s Eve outfits.

  ‘Well cheers then!’ shouted Lucy rowdily. ‘Here’s to us all! Here’s to you Gary and Jess for a perfect future. Here’s to me and you Ben for plenty more Christmas dinners at the local Indian, and here’s to you Kat for looking sensational tonight!’ Everyone whooped. Kat did look sensational in her favourite little black dress, black kitten heels and chunky black bead glass jewellery; her beautiful blonde hair, blue eyes and smile glowing out in contrast.

  ‘Cheers,’ said Kat with meaning, determined to put her internal conflicts aside for the night.

  ‘So come on, how was it?’ giggled Jess, a fan of the Spicer Christmas Dinner. ‘Did your sister do her usual?’

  Kat had followed the normal routine and spent Christmas with her huge extended family. ‘Yes Kelly and the wonder kids took over proceedings as always and this year we had a rendition of Annie by Ava and Oliver by Bobby and then they did a Little Donkey duet on the violin and trumpet with Kelly taking centre stage singing the vocals!’ Kat laughed remembering, ‘No one realised that Little Donkey was a show tune!’

  ‘How old are they?’ asked Ben intrigued.

  ‘Two and Three.’ Kat laughed, ‘and then we had to sing the wee wee song and clap every time Ava used the potty.’

  ‘Ha, and how does that one go?’ said Ben trying to drink around the soggy pieces of orange and lemon that were bobbing up and down in his warm red wine.

  ‘Oh I can’t remember but it was in a show tune style with actions.’ She laughed and shook her jazz hands.

  Gary was perplexed, ‘So they can play the violin and trumpet at
two and three?’ His birth and beyond books hadn’t focused on when to introduce musical instruments.

  Kat was enjoying the energised atmosphere, thrilled that the apartment was once again filled with all of her very favourite people. ‘Well yes Kelly says they can, just like Kelly said they learnt to walk at nine months and speak at ten!’

  ‘They are gorgeous though aren’t they,’ said Jess glowing inside.

  ‘Oh they are and I can’t wait to see what they get in their GCSE’s this summer!’ Kat loved Ava and Bobby and tried desperately hard to ignore her sister’s constant, but well intentioned boasting. The whole family knew that no one was of any importance now the grandchildren had arrived.

  Jess’s mind suddenly changed direction, ‘Shall we do it at the start, or the middle or the end?’

  ‘I think when everyone has arrived. Let’s just get them all together and have a toast to us. Pregnant and engaged!’ hooted Gary, the happiest he had ever been.

  ‘I am so devastated about my scan though, I was hoping to produce the pictures and just say Ta Dah!’

  Gary smiled, ‘Well it is Christmas and you can understand them delaying it, and anyway it will be something else to look forward to.’ Everyone chimed their glasses again and the expectant New Year feeling roused them all.