Chapter 8

The red Toyota MR2 squealed to a halt outside the Women's Refuge. Mary was waiting by the front gate and was already by the curb when the sports car stopped. Quickly, she opened the door and jumped in beside the driver.

"Drive! Go!" Mary said, urgency in her voice.

Catherine Sullivan stood on the gas and the car zipped off to merge with the night traffic. She watched her friend through the corner of her eye without speaking until they'd got onto the motorway. Mary was nearly in tears and Cath could see pure thunder in her expression.

"Going straight home?" Cath asked. She knew the answer already.

"Can we drive for a bit?" Mary replied.

"Sure. You called Jake?"

"No!"

"You want to use my phone?"

"No... I'll call him... in a bit."

"Mary... uh... you need to take care of business first. Home business, call him!"

"Ok, ok!" Mary dialed home. Jake answered immediately and she told him she was going to be another hour or so. Her voice was steady until the end. Then, she broke down, tears streaming down her face.

"I know this cool all night café where they have these amazing capuchinos. If you ask them they'll splash a fifth of drambuie in it. Want to check it out?" Mary nodded and Cat aimed for the motorway exit.

The café was busy, but Cat and Mary found a table outside, well to the back. Cat ordered two coffees, winked at the waiter, and made a tipping motion with her hand. The waiter smiled and winked back.

"You know him?" Mary asked, amused.

"Oh we just have some fun, David and I. I come here quite a bit."

"How often and how much fun?"

"He's as camp as a row of tents, Mare," she grinned back, "I'd have to grow an adam's apple to interest him. Fancy something creamy and sugary, full of chocolate? Well, if you don't, I'll have yours as well... hoy, David?"

Two frothy capuchinos duly arrived smelling powerfully of alcohol. Shortly after they were followed by two 'chocolate orgasms, ' a dessert swimming in cream and hissing, hot chocolate. The irony wasn't lost on Mary. They tucked in before Cat finally asked what had upset her friend.

"She's fucking me over, Cat. Now I know, she's wants to fuck me over and she's using Jake to get at me."

"Sharmila?" Mary nodded. "Ok," Cat said, leaning back, "start from the beginning?"

Some time later, Cat, her chin resting on her hand, summed up what Mary had told her.

"Let me get this right, ok? Sharmila wants you to bring your lover to her so she can do 'the dance of the seven veils' in front of him, right?" Mary nodded. "Now, there's no professional reason why you can't let this happen. She's not on drugs, you've no reason to believe she's going to attack him? Or vice versa? No emotional risk for the client? Nada. As a professional, you have to use your judgement and find no reason why this meeting can't take place? Now, a couple of questions occur to me."

"I thought there might. First?"

"Are you so sure Sharmila knows Jake is your partner? Or are you making assumptions? In other words, is she really dicking with you or is she just acting fairly normally for a client in recovery?"

"I don't know. Second?" Mary admitted.

"Do you trust Jake?"

"Um... I guess I... not completely."

"Why not? What does the guy have to do?"

"I don't really know that either, It's me, isn't it?" Cath smiled, nodding.

"Tell me, Mare, when was the last time you had a holiday?"

"You, me, we went to the West Coast, remember?"

"Hon, that was 20 years ago."

"Really? That long? Shit, time flies."

"Get Jake to take you on a Bahama cruise... or an archaelogical dig in Malawi... who gives a shit? Get away with him for awhile. The Refuge is not going to fall down. Your clients will cope with someone else for a few weeks. Get the fuck out of this situation, you and Jake! You cannot deal with Sharmila if you've half your focus on keeping her hands off him. You're at risk of being professionally compromised."

"She'll be waiting..."

"Let her fucking wait until they wheel her into the old folk's home. I'll set up a controlled meeting at my office. Sharmila may want to make a play for Jake in front of you, let's not give her the chance? Tell her they're Jake's conditions. This protects you professionally and privately. You've done your duty and I'll see to it she keeps her knickers on."

"You will?"

Cath nodded, "no-one drops their undies in front of me, baby, unless I ask them! As for mine, honey, if what you tell me about Jake is on the level..."

"Down, Cat!" she laughed.

"Now, I really think we need to get you home to your toyboy, don't you think? He'll be waiting for his four hourly feed, won't he?"

"Cath, you're such a smart bitch!"

"I know, Mare, just jealous! Let's go?"

As a counsellor, Mary was trained to observe repeating patterns of behaviour in her clients. It was unpleasant to have to assess her own.

She thought of her ex-husband Rick. She wondered what he would think of her situation. Mary thought he'd be laughing his head off: Rick had a cruel sense of irony.

They'd bumped into each other recently. His wife, Mel, was heavily pregnant again and she congratulated them both. Mary had lost count, but thought that was about their sixth. Rick had always wanted a cute little daughter to dote on. Mel had delivered him five sons and Mary had wondered how many they were going to have before they finally gave up.

Carrying babies had knocked about Mel's figure. She was now far from the tight little teenager Rick had fallen for. Instead, her boobs were wobbly and shapeless and her cliched tight-jeaned bum had spread out a bit. Mary couldn't remember what her normal waist was like anymore, she seemed to be always carrying a bump there.

Mel had been a student of his when he taught Computer Technology at the University. He'd been a programmer back when few knew what was inside that box with the screen. He was one of the first wave of geeks and had cottoned onto IBM's magic little machine early on.

Mary hadn't a clue what Rick did. He'd spend long hours away from her and jump when the phone rang at 2 in the morning. He was a 'solutions' man, and companies paid him silly money to sort out their 'software issues.' Of course, doubtless, the company manager had little idea what a 'software' was.

Mary didn't exactly know how long Rick had been seeing Mel. He'd been only too happy to undergo their 'therapy sessions' with her to sort out their 'marital issues.' He'd been keen to try out all the suggestions. They'd done their '20/20s' and the candlelit dinners. He'd even agreed to 'prioritize their relationship time.' The jargon had fallen out of Rick's mouth freely and Mary had been taken in completely.

All that time Rick had been steadily withdrawing from the relationship. Sex had always been a Saturday night routine, providing each of them was free. Towards the end, though, Mary had noticed his lovemaking spark up. She was convinced he was genuinely trying to make things work.

She remembered that night, even now, with crystal clarity. Rick sat her down with a drink and told her he'd something important to discuss. Mary thought he was announcing a surprise holiday to the Bay of Islands. They'd often talked about it as something they both wanted to do.

"Mary," he'd said, "I'm sorry to have to tell you that I've found someone else and I want to go and live with her."

Mary couldn't remember anything else he said that night. She remembered drinking and drinking. It went on for a week until Cath came and fetched her. By then, Rick had cleared out and she'd got a glimpse, through the window, of her competitor.

Mel was already 7 months pregnant with Rick's first daughter. Mary could see her belly when Rick opened the car door to put something in. Mel had smiled at him, put her hand in his to comfort him in this painful moment. Mary had wanted his pain to last, and for Mel to miscarry.

It dawned on her what a lie they'd been trying to live. Rick had been steadily screwing Mel throughout the time Mary was desperately trying to save the marriage. And Rick pretended he was there for her, earnestly vowing to 'address the issues.' Only later did she find out from mutual acquaintances what had happened.

Rick had started his affair with Mel, his student, about a year before. She'd been 17 at the time and Rick, 38. Back then it wasn't considered 'unethical' and university authorities turned a blind eye while advising 'propiety.' That meant it wasn't 'done' to be caught in the lecture hall fucking over the lectern between classes.

Mary knew many of the teaching staff at the university, had attended post-grad courses there, and not one thought it a duty to tell her what was going on. She thought how they must have all been sniggering behind her back, or worse, tutting. Pity, in Mary's view, was harder to bear than betrayal.

She'd blamed herself, blamed him, blamed Mel, before settling on the entire male gender. Mel was game set and match for her. Mel was young, pranced around in gypsy dresses, sang corny folk songs in a shrill voice, braided her long blond hair and wrote sickening love poetry. She had a tight arse, perky tits and a pretty face. Mary was surprised how young she looked, even pregnant, and told everyone she thought Rick was a closet pedophile.

The separation had to be handled by their solicitors. Mary couldn't stand being in the same room with him. She gladly gave up their joint home in return for her little cottage. That had been hers before she was married and she was damned if she was going to have him, or his child bride, step anywhere near it.

20 years, however, is a long time to carry a grudge and Mary had ditched her's long ago. It had been less of a journey for Rick. After all, he'd only waited on Mary's forgiveness. The hurt, she'd thought, was left behind, too, but Jake had reminded her she still had a little way to go.

It was all too plain to Mary, as Cath took her home, that Sharmila and Jake had dredged up an echo of that earlier betrayal. She was so ready to believe Sharmila was going to steal her man from under her and was determined it wasn't going to sneak up on her, 1 year down the track.

Sharmila was pregnant, too. Even though it wasn't Jake's, she knew he really wanted to be a father.

"If only I'd been fertile!" she said aloud.

"What?" Cath asked.

"Nothing. Are we home yet?" She pretended to yawn.

Sharmila was happier than she'd been for a while. Perhaps as far back as the last time her and Jake had been good. Before, of course, their relationship had been poisoned.

She was certain Jake was going to meet her. She wasn't surprised Mary had found 'appointment conflicts, ' and couldn't be there. But Sharmila hadn't really wanted her there, anyway, and was quite happy with the suggested arrangements.

Perhaps they could go out for a coffee afterwards? That is, once they'd got off their chest what they wanted to say to each other. The councellor couldn't stop them. What they did afterwards was none of their business.

She lay in bed thinking about Jake and Mary together. That had been her idea as well, although she couldn't imagine either of them ackowledging that. She'd acted the little go-between and had sparked a little mutual interest. Sharmila was certain Jake wouldn't have looked at Mary twice until she'd revealed Mary's erotic thoughts about him.

She was a little surprised, though, how hard they'd fallen for each other. That'd not been part of the plan. Mary had been too old, too independent, and not as pretty as she. She could only imagine she must be sensational in bed. Sharmila thought only that they could have a little fun together. Mary had needed a good man inside her and Jake had hardly fucked anyone at all. She would've enjoyed watching Jake enjoy himself with her. It would've been her little gift to him, an act of her love.

Sharmila had given her husband such a gift. She knew he was unhappy that she wouldn't let him have her virginity, so she suggested inviting another girl to look after him. He'd objected, telling her it wasn't normal, but who was he to tell her what was normal? After all, she'd been barely 10 years old when he'd been invited by her brothers to come and masturbate over her. She'd been well-used to that by then, but she knew other families didn't do it. What right had he to tell her that was normal and what she was doing wasn't?

She was a young Polynesian girl, she'd forgotten her name, and helped out in the café in the building where she worked. Although the girl was only 16 Sharmila knew she wasn't a virgin. She'd sit with her sometimes, while Sharmila ate her lunch, and tell her about boyfriends, making out and staying the night. They got on quite well together.

Sharmila told her about her 'brother.' She claimed she was single and lived with her 'brother' in a big house. Her 'brother' was single, too, was really hot, and looking for a nice girlfriend. She told her he wasn't very experienced with girls and thought, maybe, they could have a little party one night and all get acquainted. The girl had jumped at it.

Her husband was shocked when she brought the girl home. She told him in Hindi some of what was going to happen, that the girl thought he was her brother: and they had a big argument. Sharmila had bought some wine to 'loosen us all up, ' and, eventually, her husband started drinking.

The girl was soon giggling and laughing and wound up in her husband's lap. Sharmila kept urging him on in Hindi and explained if he truly loved her he'd accept her gift to him.