Reinventing Lindsey

by Maggie Brown

  “If you mean a problem because you’re a lesbian, then absolutely not. Love is love. If you meant a problem to find you a wife, then no, it won’t be. I’ll just have to modify some of my teaching methods.”

  “You’re going to teach me?”

  “Oh yes. Everything that’s worth having needs to be learned, and earned,” said Daisy with a smile. “I want you to fill out the questionnaire before we start getting down to business. We’ll spend the rest of the session today with an informal chat. Nothing deep and meaningful—just getting to know each other. Tell me about your work.”

  Lindsey let out a breath, pleased at last to be in familiar territory. “It’s probably easier to give you a tour of the lab and explain things as we go.” She gave a small cough. “However, there is a requirement if you’re interested—you need to sign a confidential disclosure statement. Most of my projects are highly confidential.”

  “That’s no problem. I’d love to see firsthand what you do.”

  Lindsey pulled out a form from the top drawer and pushed it across for Daisy to sign. “We’ve been working on artificial skin for prosthetic limbs and a device to link them to the brain. Our engineers are also designing a lightweight robotic suit to give mobility to the disabled.”

  “That sounds like exciting work. Are they near public release?”

  “The skin…yes, and I’ve built a power unit that enables the person to control the movements of his or her artificial part. It’s a tiny computer embedded in the skull, but with technology constantly changing there are always avenues for improvement. The suit is a work in progress for the team.”

  When they reached the end of the hallway, Lindsey pressed her thumb against the security keyboard and the steel door swung open. She was pleased to hear the gasp of surprise spring from her companion as they stepped into the lab. Her workspace was impressive, but the robot against the wall seemed to capture Daisy’s complete attention as she knew it would.

  “Wow!” Daisy gasped. “Now that really is something. It looks human.”

  Though she was determined to be nonchalant, Lindsey couldn’t help feeling a spurt of pride. This project was her special baby. “You can examine her if you like.”

  “Her?”

  “I think of them as part of my family,” said Lindsey with a self-conscious cough. “I’ve made some robot animals, but she is only the second humanoid machine I’ve built.”

  “I saw as I came in. It looks like a man. So life-like.”

  “I am one of the leaders in the field, though I haven’t shared this work publicly as yet or let anyone examine these prototypes.”

  “Of course.” Daisy ran her hands over the robot. “It’s…excuse me…she’s covered in a material that feels like skin. Firm yet softly resilient. And the face, the hair, the eyes…she’s bloody brilliant.”

  “There was a lot of delicate laser work in the small parts like the retina, hair follicles, and teeth. A time-consuming process but the result was well worth the effort,” Lindsey added proudly.

  “She’s warm,” said Daisy with a delighted grin, “like a real person.”

  “Her power unit maintains the body temperature as well as controlling the brain. I’m refining the central nervous system with electromagnetic patterns so she can mimic emotions with facial expressions.”

  “Like smiling and frowning?”

  “Yes.”

  “I never imagined robotics had advanced to this extent.”

  “They don’t belong to science fiction anymore. The first types were heavy, built with metal or a metal alloy. And though humanised, they were made to be non-threatening by quirky character traits and awkward movements.”

  “You’re right,” said Daisy with a smile. “Although in more modern films they tend to look much more lifelike, as in Blade Runner.”

  “We are a vain species, are we not, to want something artificial to be in our image?”

  “No,” said Daisy with a quick shake of her head. “As an anthropologist, I can answer that one. It’s not vanity, it’s comfort in the familiar. People don’t like anything too creepy or out of the norm. They accept things better if they feel they can trust something. Also, the general population responds better if they can communicate in a normal way, such as speech or arm waving.” She looked at Lindsey curiously. “Have you safeguards in place in case they run amok?”

  “You have been watching too many movies,” said Lindsey with a chuckle. “Their movements only exist in conjunction with their brains, which are simply programmed computers.”

  “They can’t learn anything other than the software they’ve been given?”

  Lindsey dipped her hands into her coat pockets, careful how she answered. No one knew yet what she had accomplished with artificial intelligence. “If you’re asking if they can think for themselves outside of their programming sphere…then no. But they have the capacity to be taught some complicated tasks like cooking.”

  “Ha! I bet it can’t cook my mother’s cheese soufflé. It always flops on me. Is this your only lab?”

  “No, it’s my private one. Our main facility is in the city. Once a week I commute to the building. I do lots of the designs, but we do have a team of engineers working on various projects.”

  “But not these robots?”

  “No. They’re special and I’m not yet ready to share.”

  Lindsey eyed Daisy as she poked around the lab for a further five minutes. She couldn’t believe she had invited this stranger into her inner sanctum without a qualm. It was something she never did—in fact the only other people to have been there were Bernice and the most trusted members of her staff. Industrial espionage was a very real issue. But she had wanted to prove a point to this cavalier matchmaker. She needed to demonstrate that regardless of her personal hang-ups, she wasn’t a failure at anything else.

  When Daisy reached the open computer, Lindsey made a point of glancing at her watch. “As much as I’d like to continue our talk, I’m afraid I have to get back to work. When shall we meet again?”

  “The day after tomorrow, if that suits you. That’ll give you time to fill out your profile. Nine o’clock again?”

  Lindsey winced as her anxiety flowed back. She hoped it didn’t have too many intimate questions. “That’ll be fine. I’ll see you then,” she said with a hint of gruffness. “I’ll show you out.”

  After Daisy departed, she returned to her office, her mind reeling with images from the past that invariably rolled when she was stressed. She sat down in the chair, hunched against the chill wind of memory.

  * * *

  2004

  Lindsey learned the hard way that rebellion came at a price.

  At her twenty-first birthday party, the seeds of discontent that had been simmering for years finally sprouted. Up to that point, she had followed her mother’s directives to the letter. How could she not? She had been told often enough that her mother’s taste and ambition were far superior to hers. Ellen Jamieson-Ford had scrupulously mapped out her only child’s life, from the clothes on her back to her circle of friends. Right from the time she could walk, Lindsey had been meticulously trained: her deportment was exquisite, her speech impeccable and her manners flawless. Unfortunately, she took too much after her big hearty father to be the delicate princess her mother longed for.

  Her early teen years had been a nightmare. Gawky, bespectacled, her teeth caged in orthodontic braces and body yet to grow into her lanky legs, she was the proverbial ugly duckling. Then, contrary to the fairy tales, when she acquired breasts, straight white teeth and corrective surgery for her squint, she hadn’t blossomed into a beautiful swan as everyone had hoped. She remained her father’s daughter, a fact she was constantly reminded of by her mother. It didn’t matter how brilliantly Lindsey excelled at her studies, she knew she would never be anything but a disappointment.

  She accepted most things from her mother but eventually balked at her meddling in her love life. She hated that she insisted on choosing
her dates. The most persistent of the socially acceptable suitors was Martin Hickman, a third-year law student. Her skin crawled when he touched her.

  As the time approached for the first guest to arrive at her party, she said defiantly, “I detest Martin, Mum. I’m calling it off tonight.”

  Ellen barely spared her a glance. She replied quietly but forcefully, “You know his parents are friends of ours. I expect you to give the young man a chance.”

  Lindsey could not stop the hot sting of tears. She knew that voice too well. It wasn’t a request but a royal command. At the imperious tone, something foreign in Lindsey stirred. It was her birthday and she was going to do what she damn well pleased.

  She glared at her mother, a biting retort on the tip of her tongue. With an effort, she held her silence. Confrontation would only aggravate their already precarious relationship. Her mother in this mood was not to be trifled with.

  After the final twist to her elaborate hairstyle, Ellen Jamieson-Ford peered into the mirror. “There,” she said with satisfied nod, “that should do very well.”

  Lindsey studied the perfect coiffure for a second before she turned on her heels. On her way down the hallway to the grand stairway, she glanced at the grandfather clock. Six fifteen—the guests were due soon. As she descended to the ground floor, she was more conscious than usual of the grandeur of their mansion, with its panelled oak walls, tiered chandelier glittering over the spacious foyer, and intricately carved balustrades of the staircase. The ostentation didn’t sit well with her personality. She was much happier in the kitchen talking to Bernice, their cook, than attending the frequent dinner parties at the long dining table.

  Excitement and anxiety continued to swirl inside her as she paced the floor. Her friends were coming to the party and she was determined to have a good time. When the butler announced the first guest, she gulped down a glass of champagne before joining her mother in the hallway to welcome them. She balanced on the balls of her feet to relieve the boredom while she greeted her parents’ stuffy friends. They were always the first to arrive. Soon the younger set began to trickle in, and finally, her best friend Kirsty appeared.

  “Am I glad to see you, Kirsty,” Lindsey murmured as she kissed her on the cheek. She gazed at her fondly. Kirsty was a standout, with spun-gold hair that framed an adorable pixie face and tumbled freely over creamy white shoulders. It was no wonder her hand was looped through the arm of the hottest boy in town, the captain of the rugby team.

  “Happy birthday, Lin,” Kirsty said and pulled a young woman forward by the hand. “This is my cousin Amy. She’s on holidays and staying with us, so I asked her to come. I hope you don’t mind?”

  The air felt suddenly hot and sticky when Lindsey gazed at Amy. She was tall, about her height, slim with the long lithe muscles of a cat, dressed in a form-fitting black top with a turtleneck. Everything about her was appealing: her attractive spunky looks, her short spiky black hair and the confident way she held herself. Lindsey’s heart gave a flutter as their gazes locked. The irises were a warm hazel colour, like autumn leaves. Amy gave a wink and grin, which made Lindsey feel as if she couldn’t breathe. She pulled herself together and murmured, “Of course not. More the merrier. Come on in. Our crowd’s out the back.”

  As she led them through the crush, Lindsey took another glass of champagne from a tray. She was going to celebrate whether her mother approved or not. Outside under the starry night, the younger revellers had already settled around the bar. When they stepped onto the terrace, Martin immediately appeared at her side and lazily threw his arm over her shoulders. As she shrugged it off irritably, she noticed Amy smile. She smiled back, unable to take her eyes off her. Amy was gorgeous, with the clinging top showing every contour of her small pert breasts.

  Lindsey swallowed hard as a vivid image flashed into her head. The two of them were naked, pressed together on a soft bed in a dark room.

  Trembling, she felt an exciting tingle spread between her legs. She went hot. This was her most guarded secret, why she disliked being touched by boys. Then when Amy took her empty glass and their fingers brushed together, the light cool touch on her skin felt like whispered words. From then on, Lindsey was lost in a haze of desire. As the bar became more cluttered and thick with noise, she was aware of nothing but the stunning girl in the turtleneck top.

  Through the loud music and the babble of voices, she heard Amy murmur in her ear, “Wanna get out of here? My bike’s outside.”

  Lindsey swallowed the last of the champagne in the flute in one gulp. “You bet,” she whispered back.

  “Come on then.”

  After Amy vanished down the stairs to the garden, she discreetly followed at a distance. A skitter of panic flared when she glimpsed her father on the front patio talking to an elderly couple, but they disappeared before she rounded the side of the house. Amongst the parked cars, Amy was already perched on a motorbike, a shiny blue helmet nestled between her thighs.

  She handed it to Lindsey. “I always carry an extra one. You never know who wants a ride. Put it on and hop aboard.”

  The memories of that night still lingered as if they only happened yesterday. The wild ride on the back of the bike, her arms tightly around Amy’s waist, her breasts pressed into her back. The first feel of a woman’s lips, so soft she almost cried. How her body had melted into the embrace like candle wax touched by a flame. The feel of the slim fingers as they slipped into the moisture pooled between her legs and the exquisite pleasure as the pads skimmed over her clitoris. And finally, the roaring in her blood as her orgasm crashed through. She knew instinctively in the maelstrom of sensation that Amy had followed her into the sublime bliss.

  But after they left the beach the memories were dark, shrouded in a horror that still haunted her. It was a removalist truck, they said…coming around the bend too fast in the middle of the road. After the excruciating agony on impact, all she could remember was the smell of disinfectant, white sheets, pain. A ventilator tube filling her mouth, a monitor attached to her chest. Pale faces staring down at her as the sound of beep…beep…beep echoed through the hospital room.

  Chapter Five

  “How did it go?”

  Daisy gave a noncommittal shrug in reply to Allison’s query as she hung her coat on the rack. “It’s not going to be easy.”

  “You didn’t like her?”

  “It’s not that.”

  Allison stopped typing and gave her a questioning glance. “Care to elaborate.”

  Daisy attended the coffee machine to give her time to formulate an answer. There was no doubt that Lindsey was complicated. She was tough, egocentric, very smart, but underneath the cold exterior there was also a hint of vulnerability. On first sight, she appeared a battle-ax. It wasn’t simply her hairstyle or her severely tailored dark suit, but the look in her eyes, the set of her body, the twist of her mouth. Then she smiled and she became immediately softer, more human.

  The scientist who showed her through the laboratory was an entirely different person from the brittle woman in the office. If Daisy wasn’t mistaken, there was something attractive hidden beneath the façade, though she was going to have to drag it screaming into the open. Lindsey wasn’t going to be a pliable subject. “Just let me say that we didn’t exactly start off on the right foot. She was very prickly. I smoothed it over, but this is going to be a challenge. Lindsey has an extremely strong personality.”

  “You’ve had difficult clients before and it hasn’t fazed you.”

  “Not like her. She’s a very smart cookie. Super intelligent actually.”

  “So? Find her a super smart man.”

  “Ah,” said Daisy. “There lies the problem. She wants a wife.”

  Allison sat up straighter. “Really? We haven’t had a lesbian as a client before.” She tilted her head with a sly grin. “This is right up your alley, you being of the same persuasion an’ all.”

  A groan escaped from Daisy. “You’re kidding me. People are people w
hatever their orientation, and she’s not exactly Miss Congeniality. Then there’s the fact lesbians aren’t running around in abundance out there, so options are more limited. I just hope she’s not too fussy and someone clicks with her. I’d say she relates to machines better than with people. She’s even built a surrogate robotic family, one that does exactly what she wants.”

  “She sounds rather odd.”

  “She’s…well…different. Not unlikeable though. I have a feeling I’m going to have to spend a lot of time with her, so put those new applications on hold until I sort her out. Now I’d better get to work with our other clients. Did Alan get back to you about his date with Sandy?”

  Allison gave a thumbs-up. “All’s going well there. They’re getting on like a house on fire.”

  “Excellent. I knew they would suit each other. Okay, I’m going in to plan a strategy for Lindsey.”

  Once entrenched behind her desk, Daisy took out the Kentucky Fried Chicken box and began to munch through the chilli wrap and fries. With a last lick to clean the mayonnaise off her fingers, she wiped her hand with a tissue then downloaded the file. After another quick perusal, she set up a new page with the heading: Lindsey Jamieson-Ford Project.

  On the first line, she typed Personal appearance. Then she added some pertinent points, excited that the budget was unlimited. Reinventing Lindsey was going to be fun.

  Hair (Make an appointment with the Boris salon’s personal stylist)

  Clothes (Contact designer dressmaker Nicolle Jane re fittings)

  Makeup (get a range of cosmetics sent over from Chanel) plus a session with Andrea Ming their chief makeup artist

  Daisy clicked the save button and logged out. That would be a start—she couldn’t really go on much further until she’d read Lindsey’s profile. She didn’t have a clue what type of woman she preferred, or whether she saw herself as a top or bottom, or if it didn’t matter anyway. Finding a perfect match for Lindsey wasn’t going to be as simple as pairing her with a man. Lesbians were more complicated—so many different types. As well, there were bisexual women who made equally as loving partners in a same-sex relationship, but they came with hurdles to jump over too.