Jane turns the conversation to the dig and comments that she is looking forward to being in the Hebrides with Linda – and with the others, of course.
Linda returns Jane’s look as the younger woman seems to somehow search beyond her eyes, into her soul.
“Yes, I am too.”
Nothing more is said, but the moment holds them both. There is an undefined intimacy about their exchange as they sit together on the lawn. Linda is seeking and giving information. Jane is doing the same. It is superficial at one level; significant at another.
The silence between them is only broken a few seconds later when Terry joins them. They both turn to incorporate him into their conversation, indicating that they are talking about their summers to come.
Terry – tall, fit and bursting with energy – is obviously an admirer of Jane. He comes in with his own plans in which it was clear that he hopes to spend time with Jane. Jane just smiles.
They chat a while longer, Linda only partly hearing Terry’s enthusiasm about white water rafting which he hopes to do in the States as soon as possible. He hopes that Jane will join him. Again, Jane just smiles. Linda catches Susan’s eye across the garden and indicates to her to join them. She wants to introduce Jane.
Jane seems to warm at once to Susan and asks interested questions about what it is like to host a TV human-interest show like Susan’s. Laughing at herself, she admits that she is trying to conceal the fact that, as a very infrequent watcher of TV, she has barely ever seen Susan on the screen. But it is clear that no offence is meant and none taken. Susan just laughs. Jane is even able to kindle a spark of genuine interest in Susan about the Iron Age village they will be unearthing later in the summer. Linda says there could be a newsworthy story to come from it and Susan raises an acknowledging eyebrow. A word from Susan to the evening news team might be very useful indeed.
Ken joins them, then Bill and Harry, and the larger group sit at ease for half an hour or so whilst Linda wanders round her other guests enjoying their company. She is relieved, though, as people begin to trickle away, making their thanks and goodbyes.
By late evening, only their close friends remain, together with Harry, Terry and Jake – an unmarried doctor with his eye on Susan. Susan is not dissuading him. Linda wonders how the evening will pan out there and whether she will hear more about this at some later date. Amused and vaguely resigned to this new side to Susan, she offers to make coffee. Jane gets up immediately to help. Linda does not protest.
In the kitchen, though, as she sets the coffee filter to run, she is conscious of how awkward she now feels, alone in the presence of this young woman who is stirring feelings that she has been struggling with since the evening of the supper party with her and her women friends.
“Linda.” Jane says, looking straight at her.
Linda looks up from the table where she is pouring milk into a jug and holds Jane’s eye contact. She is about to say ‘Yes?’ when a sound from the door makes both of them turn round. Ken stands there, smiling, but with a questioning, almost puzzled expression. He seems to sense that he has walked in on something.
“Am I interrupting?”
“Not at all,” Jane says, returning the smile. “It really has been a great day. You have such a nice home. Thank you both so much for sharing it with Harry and me.”
Linda smiles, relieved at the aplomb with which Jane has carried off the moment and says nothing except, “Coffee’s ready,” and then, with a slow glance at Jane, leads the way back to the others.
The evening ends, Ken and Linda graciously receiving the thanks of their guests. Jane sidesteps Terry’s attentions, Linda notices, and leaves with Harry and by taxi. Susan leaves with Bill. Even for Susan, caution seems to be the greater part of valour. Somewhere deep inside Linda, she finds she is fighting a puritanical urge to judge and condemn her friend.
The next days for Linda are mainly child focussed. She takes Angela and Kenny, now on their school vacation, on daytrips and picnics, and entertains them with their friends in the house or garden. She acts as driver to their increasingly busy social diaries. It is a time of year that she relishes and Ken takes a day off when he can. On these days, they drive to the hills and walk and barbecue by running streams. It is a gentle time though Linda realizes that it is also, for her, a restless time.
She hears little from Susan but receives a call at home in mid July. There has been no reaction from Ramsey to the solicitor’s letter and, as Linda realizes herself, no press exposé. So, it obviously looks as if she is going to survive. The whole thing stands a good chance of staying out of the public eye. Susan is clearly relieved She now assumes, Linda realises, that the potential crisis is over. Her life, professionally speaking, can go on as before. Linda forbears to ask if Susan saw any more of young doctor Jake from the garden party.
She does, though, ask how Susan’s boss is with her. He always seemed a remote figure to Linda, as if the relationship between Susan and him is distant. Linda cannot even remember his name. She says so. Susan comes back; Whitley is a good, strictly business-like sort of boss. He is also very exacting and demanding of her work. Susan likes that in a boss - as long as the boss is a man. And, she says, it is a relationship of mutual respect for their different abilities and one that could never be close in any personal sense. Jonathon knows she is good at her job and he will promote her in the interests of the TV Company. He will also protect her for the same reason. Anyway, she adds, as if this is important, he is at least fifteen years her senior. He also never gossips about one member of the team to another so what he knows stays with him. He has little time for some of the new young bosses above him so he is using his own discretion as best he can with regard to the letter and its circulation within the company. He has had to pass it up the line, but he is exercising caution as to precisely who is seeing it. Susan accepts his judgement. Jonathon is a true politician in the organisation.
“Will he have kept it, do you think?” Linda probes.
“I would expect so. It’s probably on my staff file. He keeps a file on each of us. It’s not likely to go to the main personnel file – too many admin staff have access. It’s a pity that it just can’t be binned but there’s nothing I can do about it. He would think I wasn’t trusting him if I asked for it.”
“How’s Bill taking the whole thing now?”
“OK. He’s not saying much.” This is said dismissively, as if it is now history.
Linda suggests meeting Susan for a meal before Linda flies out to the Hebrides. Susan seems to jump at the chance. They arrange a time for the next evening, as Linda is confident that Ken is free to be at home with the children.
Over their supper in the same vegetarian basement bistro as they ate in on the evening of Ramsey’s suicide attempt, Linda listens carefully and with all the sympathy that she can show as Susan describes her need for anonymous sex, sex without emotion; a need that has been a part of her driving force since her late adolescence. Linda’s response is kindly. And it is her best effort to be the kind of friend that Susan needs right now. But she wonders as she listens what she would feel about all this is she were talking to a stranger she happened to meet in a train. She suspects she might not be so generous.
Largely, she listens; she makes it clear that she has no judgment to place at her friend’s door; and she asks if her friend has any understanding of why she has this drive. Privately, and beyond her instinct to judge, she is confused. She knows that Susan has so much to lose by this behaviour. And there is so much that is already there for her in terms of attractive, available men. Why behave like this? Linda can be sympathetic but has no understanding, yet, that could help her to be truly empathetic.
Susan chooses to say only that it is compelling; that when a set of circumstances arises in her life, such as being away from her own environment, she makes herself available.
“But what about safety – from violence, I mean?”
“Well, safety is sometimes built in more by circumst
ances. Like someone at reception in a hotel knowing you have a guest. Or asking room service to call at a particular time. You certainly can’t assume safety in any man.”
“But was there safety on Mull because Ramsey was a minister?”
“No. No. You can’t tell who anyone is at the end of the day. No, the safety was in the fact that I told him Mike, the cameraman, knew I was invited back and where I was. Plus, The media of the country was on the doorstep. And, yes,” she concedes, “I suppose my instinct said he was safe enough.”
“And what about disease – dare I say AIDS?”
“A gamble, I suppose.” That is all Susan can say.
“Susan, I take it this is something that happens regularly?” asks Linda, still concerned for the practical issues of safety and sexual health.
“Well, not a lot, but yes, more than I care to admit. But Ramsey is the only one who has ever bothered me afterwards.”
They leave it there, Linda sensing that Susan has said as much as she can for the moment.
Straight to the point, now, with all her journalistic ability for matter of fact questioning, Susan asks Linda about herself.
“Linda, what is it that you have been hinting at that you might tell me? I take it your life is not as conventional as it looks? Is it not time that you told me?”
Linda hesitates, looks into her glass for a few seconds as she decides what to say. She raises her eyes to meet Susan’s.
“Actually, it is conventional to all intents and purposes. It’s not what I do. It’s what I feel.”
Susan waits. It is a sure technique to make someone fill a silence.
“I don’t know how to put it except that there’s a void – something I feel that I’ve never done anything about.”
“Come on, you can tell me.”
“I love Ken, don’t mistake me, but, well, I’m attracted to something else.”
“Something else? Something?” Susan laughs and teases. “Horses? Doorknobs?”
“Women.”
Silence. Then,
“I see. Well, actually, I don’t. But it happens a lot, Linda.” Then a thought seems to strike Susan.
“Linda, it’s not me, is it?” Her tone is sympathetic, if alarmed.
“No, of course not, you chump. But one of the reasons I’ve never said was in case you would think just that. No, just women I’ve met over the years.”
“And you have never done anything about them?”
“No, I haven’t. But at the moment, it’s different. And married women do have female relationships. You hear about it from time to time.”
“So, is there someone at the moment, Linda?” asks Susan with a shrewd guess as to who it will be.
“There could be, Susan. That’s why I wanted to talk it through.”
“Right,” her friend says, obviously doing mental gymnastics with the plethora of issues involved. “Well, I’m a pragmatic sort, as you know. I actually believe in following your heart in these matters. Actually,” she digresses, “I envy you. My heart is certainly not in what I have done. Nor is it in Bill, no really.” For a second, she sounds wistful. “Still, that’s not what we’re talking about right now. My advice, for what it’s worth,” she continues, “Is to go for it. But be damned careful. You have a family and a good life. Keep it secret and either find out that she’s important to you and do something about it, or have a fling and get her out of your system.”
Linda looks stunned at the precision of Susan’s views and wonders how people can see so clearly the solutions to other people’s dilemmas. She decides to leave it there. It is evident that Susan is not going to ask who the woman is. Maybe she doesn’t have to if she has listened and observed these last few weeks. Linda asks one last question.
“Susan, does this change our friendship?”
“Don’t be daft. This is very different from Ramsey and look how good you have been over that. I don’t want to be trite, Linda, but we’ve been friends too long for something that’s obviously significant to you to shake my liking of you. Quite the reverse. Actually, you seem more human, somehow. Less perfect. I love you for all that you are, Linda.”
Linda is taken aback. It is unprecedented for Susan to speak in such emotional terms. And she obviously means it. She stretches over and gives her friend’s hand a squeeze.
“You are a good friend, Susan.” She wishes she were as genuinely generous of spirit as Susan has just been. And she hopes that Susan has not picked up her underlying ambivalence about Susan’s sexual encounters.
Susan reflects for a moment, obviously on the point of saying something else.
“What?” Linda prompts, needing to continue the conversation now that it has started.
“Well, I wondered what you think is the reason for your attraction to women.”
Linda laughs, concealing her annoyance at the question.
“Come on, Susan. Does there have to be a reason, any more than there is a reason why I like chocolate bars or modern jazz? I genuinely believe that I’ve known all this as far back as I can remember. I just had no language for it all as a young girl. I’m bi-sexual and was probably born that way. It doesn’t need to be some sort of aberrant pathology, you know. No abuse, no trauma at an early age and two parents who loved my brother and me. I really had the most ordinary of childhoods. If anything, it was not being able to talk about it that was the problem.”
“Why couldn’t you talk about it? Something must have told you that it was different.”
“Yes, I suppose so. I remember that there was a girl in school. She was a few years older than me. I thought she was fabulous. It was a crush – no more than that and it passed. But somehow, I knew not to say anything. Then when I was at university there was another student. She was training to be a vet. I nearly did something then but by then I’d met Ken.”
“And you never did anything in all these years?”
“No.”
“Then all I can think, my dear Linda, is that it’s time you did. And that this is very important. My view of life is always to go for it. You know that.”
They laugh, ignoring the danger of Susan’s advice. Linda sits there, a weight removed from her shoulders by Susan’s matter of fact and permitting attitude. There the conversation ends, and the evening too, shortly afterwards.
CHAPTER 14
From then until she leaves for the Hebrides, Linda has little time for personal reflection, consumed as her time is with the practicalities of getting the children ready for their trip to the youth camp in France. Despite all their worries about the children going off like this, Linda is quite happy with the holiday company representatives whom they met before the final decision was taken. She saw Ken and the children off, quite quiet in her mind. Then she headed for the airport for the short trip over to the Hebridean island.
Jane has come from the dig site in the mini bus to the airport. She is with Hector, one of the postgraduate students, and they are already in the terminal as Linda comes through into the arrivals lounge.
Smiling and relaxed looking, Jane is tanned after her break in Turkey and looks attractive in light denims and white shirt – a way of dressing that shows Jane’s figure to advantage. Linda notices that her younger colleague has lost some weight over these weeks. The three of them smile in greeting, Linda doing no more than touching Jane on the arm – this, after all, is professional, even if in the most informal of settings.
Hector, Linda notices, is more than taken with Jane. He is a fresh faced, blonde young man, with serious eyes and a tall slim physique. He chats to Jane nineteen to the dozen on the mini-bus trip to the hostel. Work will resume the next day, Jane advises, as the three sit in the front of the van, Linda in the middle and Hector driving. Jane points out various landmarks as they drive, suggesting there is plenty to explore as time permits. She seems to Linda to be excited and not to be concealing her pleasure at seeing her.
Linda, for her part, behaves calmly and is equally friendly to both her escorts.
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The hostel is all she feared. Partitions separate the bed cubicles, each of which has a bedside cabinet and an open cupboard. There are six beds to a room and communal showers and toilets, one for the men, one for the women. She does not conceal her horror as Jane gives her a guided tour. The kitchen facilities are at least clean and modern. Jane laughs in amusement and says Linda has the privilege of being boss and can always go off to the hotel. Linda declines, asserting that she will brave it with the rest. After all, Jane has done so for the last fortnight. Thank God, she thinks, and then says, for the comfort to come of the last weekend in the town hotel.
Their party more or less fills the hostel. Only four beds remain and these will be occupied over the days by a variety of young tourists and back packers of different nationalities. The team sit together over supper a couple of hours later as a special meal to mark Linda’s arrival is produced – cold crab and crusty bread, followed by a beef casserole. Litre flagons of wine, red and white, are placed down the centre of the table.
It is a pleasant evening, the chatter bright, warm and friendly. Linda can see that Jane has done a good job of leading the team cohesion. After the main course, and over some local cheese, they put time aside to bring Linda up to date on their work at the dig. Linda already knows most of the significant facts from Jane, but Jane lets the group tell the boss in their own words. The site spans at least three houses, one on top of the other and probably reflecting at least a thousand years of civilisation. A purely chance discovery during the week of a tomb in the next field is potentially the most exciting find of all. The farmer went through the top of it with his tractor as he circumvented his usual track to the farmhouse. That track is currently the dig site. The tomb is going to be opened for a first look from the outside tomorrow when Linda is present.
Exposure Page 12
