Chapter 3

The driver's name was Jolly but he didn't seem to have any sense of humor at all. He looked disapprovingly at my single travel bag and inquired in a flat and emotionless voice,

"Is that all, Madame?'

I nodded my head and sank into the soft leather after the long tiring lines at the international arrivals section of the airport. It was harder to get out of the airport than it was to get into it on the other end. The entire area in front of the main entrance was bedlam with cars, buses and taxis competing for space and people confused on where they were supposed to go. Thankfully, Mister Jolly was an old hand at this sort of operation and we were on the highway and on our way so quickly that it seemed a minor miracle.

Jolly was not only devoid of laughter but he was apparently mute as well because he said not a single word to me the entire time and I was leery of engaging him in conversation for fear he would take offense or think me a fool. It amazed me that here I was in a country that spoke my own language and I felt more like a foreigner unable to understand a single word. It seemed so strange that all of the vehicles were driving on the wrong side of the street but I guess they would probably think the same thing if they were visiting Disneyland or Las Vegas. Seeing all the billboards with the cost of items given in British currency reminded me that I had forgotten to exchange my American money for pounds and shillings like the travel guide had reminded me time and time again. I didn't risk telling Mister Jolly because I could predict the look he would give me would make me feel less than complete.

The area that my sister had her "city place" was sort of mixed with posh shops and a splash of the seamier side of the inner workings of a large urban area. It didn't take a mental genius to see that the girls on some of the corners were not exactly waiting for public transportation but for customers with time on their hands. It seemed like each on had bigger boobs than the last and I felt totally inadequate with me undersized breasts.

Jolly opened the sedan door and handed me my bag. I guessed that he would not be seeing me to the door like we were on a first date. He said something to me that sounded like,

"Huff ya git!"

I assumed he was saying goodbye but since he was staring off in the distance, I might have been chopped liver for all he seemed to care.

A young black girl answered the door and told me that,

"The Mistress won't be home until after tea."

That didn't tell me very much since I had never quite understood when that was supposed to be or where it supposed to occur. She showed me my "bedroom" which was actually a small suite with a bedroom, a dressing room and its own bath. This was even better than my stupid condo on the seventh floor back home. I thought of Marcie and my messed-up place wondering if she had taken it on herself to clean it up. I was willing to bet she had already done it but wouldn't mention a word to me until I saw it myself. I pictured her going through my drawers fingering every piece of my silk French undies and inhaling them to see any had my scent on it. I rather liked that picture in my mind and I had no idea why in the slightest. I think it was because I felt comfortable with Marcie and could lay next to her on the sofa for hours on end just watching television or talking about what went on at work. I had always liked the warmth of her body next to mine but I certainly was not inclined romantically in the way that she was with members of the same sex.

At least, I was pretty certain I wasn't.

Claudia came into the place like a Goddess descending from her perch in the heavens and was all over me like some "groupie" with a rock star toy. I was mortified with her close physical contact because we had always been so stand-offish in our younger days. She had a retinue of sorts with a young man and young woman in tow like some cruise ship with tenders to keep her from running up on the rocks.

She pumped me for news on the family and the home place and I dutifully put her in the picture on all the boring details until she had her fill. We had snacks out on her patio in the back and she poured us two humongous glasses of wine that seemed like they were designed for some race of giants that ruled over mankind. I sipped and sipped but Claudia took huge gulps like it was fruit juice and not in the least bit alcoholic.

The two young people who were both still teenagers about eighteen were called Tammy and Tommy and it seemed like my sister kept them close for one purpose only and that was to constantly remind her how fantastic she looked. I know it makes me sound a bit jealous but even I have to admit my sister was truly attractive and appealing in a sexy physical way that emphasized sensuosity.

With the wine inside her, Claudia loosened up a lot and she removed her outer clothing with an air of indifference and languid promiscuity. I noticed that both Tammy and Tommy were quick to imitate her and I was the only one on the veranda fully dressed. Since the other servants had already been dismissed by her supreme highness Claudia, I followed suit just to be "one of the gang" and they all looked at my Claudia-dispensed French undies with a bit of surprise. With my clothes off, and with similar undies, my sister and I certainly did look like identical twins and even I had to admit it.