Author: oosh
Title: The Sunstroke Cure
Keywords: FF,rom,Lesbian
Summary: Marjorie was shocked when her daughter returned from holiday
completely changed. Aunt Clare explains what happened, and that there
can be no going back...

---

[My grateful thanks to Bradley Stoke, Katie McN and Elle for their
help, criticism and advice; and above all to MT, for that and much
more. - O.]

---

The Sunstroke Cure

March 2003

by oosh


Marjorie opened the door. "Clare!" she cried, in apparent surprise.
Then she hung her head sheepishly, knowing full well that we'd
arranged this visit by phone the day before. "You'd better come in."

"Thanks."

"I've got some dry white in the fridge if you'd like some."

"Just a glass of water, thanks. Don't let me stop you, though. George
not home yet?"

"Not for another hour at least."

"Okay... Well we've a lot to discuss, so perhaps I'll still be here
when he arrives. I'd like to see him." I settled myself on the sofa
and lit a cigarette while Marjorie bustled in the kitchen. She didn't
resist giving my cigarette a reproving grimace as she set down my
glass of water.

"Now don't you start," I warned her. "I'm not allowed to smoke in my
own home any more."

Marjorie looked at me questioningly for a moment, but didn't ask me
to explain. She clearly had too much on her mind already. "So," she
sighed as she sank into the far corner of the sofa, "how is she?"

"Helen? She's fine. Never better."

"I suppose I'm relieved." She sighed again, glancing guiltily at me.
"Well, of course I'm relieved. I'm just so worried about her."

"No need to be. She's changed, that's all. But not necessarily for
the worse. Not at all. She's beavering away like mad on her law work,
even though it's still August. It's as if she can't wait to get
qualified and earning a fat lawyer's salary."

Marjorie became impassioned. "I suppose that's so that she can keep
that pushy, grasping so-and-so -"

"Marjorie..." I growled at her in my naughty-girl voice. We older
sisters can be so crushing.

It didn't take much. Her shoulders hunched and her expression became
resigned. "Sorry... I know..." She turned to me. "You... You gave her
my message?"

I smiled reassuringly. "Of course I did. As soon as we got off the
phone."

"And...?"

It was my turn to shrug and look regretful. "She didn't exactly fall
weeping on my neck, I'm afraid. She just humphed. I think she was
pleased, but she didn't want to show it. It'll take time, Marjorie.
These things do. She's on an emotional high at the moment."

Tears sprang to Marjorie's eyes. "I just don't understand..." She
began to cry.

"Tell me about it, tell me..." I crushed out my cig and passed her a
hanky from my bag. I'd popped in a good wodge of them.

So, haltingly at first, Marjorie told me about the few days before
Jane and Helen had gone on their extraordinary holiday. Helen really
hadn't wanted to go, but Jane had been insistent: "She just barged in
here and practically took control of Helen's life." That certainly
agreed with what Helen herself had told me, and it was one of several
puzzling things about this puzzling affair. "She was bossing Helen
around left, right and centre. I don't know how she found the nerve.
I mean, they hardly even knew one another."

"Well, Marje, that's not quite true..." Marjorie's tears were
subsiding now, although they'd doubtless start again soon enough.
"They were classmates at school, right from Juniors, and then wasn't
Jane's boyfriend - er... Jim - wasn't he really pally with that boy
Helen used to go out with... what's his name?"

"Ian Jenkins."

"Yes, that's the one. Well, if their boyfriends were friends, it's a
fair bet that they would have teamed up occasionally on their nights
out. And if the boys started gassing about cars or sport..."

Marjorie sighed. "Yes, I suppose that's possible. But it's not as if
Helen particularly /liked/ Jane. All I ever heard was Helen grumbling
about her being so pushy. And she smoked dope. Helen really
disapproved of that. So do I."

"Yes, well, more about that later. First, tell me a little about Ian.
Was he her first boyfriend?"

"No. About fourth or fifth, I should think. But he lasted the
longest."
 
"Aha. How long did they go out together?"

"Oh, for about a year, I suppose... I don't think Helen was quite as
keen on Ian as the other way round, to be honest. But it's always
difficult to be sure with Helen. You know what she's like."

"And the breakup - was it messy, or...?"

"Not that I knew of. I got the impression that they just drifted
apart. I think Ian was beginning to get the message that things
weren't going anywhere."

"How often had they been seeing one another?"

"Oh, I suppose a couple of times a week."

Something Helen had told me led me to think that all her
relationships had been resolutely Platonic, but I wanted to find out
how Marjorie saw it. "Did she ever get back late?"

"Never. Always in by eleven-thirty, and usually by eleven."

I gave a hollow laugh. "Definitely a sign of coolness these days,
Marje. I think most of today's young men would be expecting a bit of
action after a couple of months - and that's if she's playing hard to
get!"

Marjorie laughed at that. "I didn't get the impression there was much
of /that/ going on. In fact I'm pretty sure. That's why George and I
liked him so much. We were a bit sorry when it broke up, to tell the
truth."

"Did you say anything?"

Marjorie winced. "Probably. Well, yeah. But Helen didn't want to talk
about it, so we didn't press it."

"Mmm... Probably just as well. How long ago was this?"

"Oh, not that long... About a couple of months ago, I suppose."

"And did Helen's social life dry up as a result?"

"No, not at all. As soon as that bloody good-time girl heard about
the break-up, she got it into her head that Helen wasn't doing enough
to attract the blokes. She was always calling round, bringing her
those stupid magazines - you know, a hundred and one ways to get your
man, improve your sex life, et cetera - and then there were the
shopping trips for tarty clothes -"

I laughed. "Oh, come on, Marje, that's a bit..."

But Marjorie didn't draw breath. "And then cosmetics, God!" She
rolled her eyes and waved her wineglass dangerously. "She had to
wear /this/ lipstick and /that/ mascara, do her hair /this/ way and
/that/ way - she practically took over Helen's life. I know Helen
didn't like it. But she just let her boss her about."

"Yes, Helen did say..."

Marjorie frowned as if puzzled. "Why did she go along with it? Why
didn't she just tell her to get stuffed?"

I laughed. "Perhaps part of her was curious."

"Curious about what?"

"About just how attractive she is. It was a sort of adventure for
her."

Marjorie made the rather inelegant hawking noise that she uses to
signal impatience. "She doesn't need to do anything to be attractive,
Clare. You know that."

"We know it, Marje, but... You know how it is when you're young."

Marjorie didn't seem convinced.

"And there's another thing..." I thought that perhaps it was time to
broach this delicate subject. "Jane was very... encouraging."

"Encouraging?"

"Yeah. She told Helen how attractive she was, often and emphatically.
She made Helen feel good about herself; and perhaps for Helen that
was something new. - She told me about the bikini Jane gave her."

"Oh yes, the bikini. If you could call it that."

I chuckled. "Helen told me what you said when she showed it to you."

"I said that it covered less than a pirate's eye-patch. It was
indecent, Clare. Have you seen it?"

"No," I admitted.

"Just about enough material to cover your woo-wah, and a little
throw-on top that obviously wasn't supposed to be worn on the beach,
and only just enough to cover the necessary."

"A thong with a loose top, then."

"I suppose so."

"I expect that's what they all wear on the Costa del Sol these days.
The days of knee-length bathers are long gone, Marje."

"You're telling me. But this was so skimpy that... well, when I
caught her trying it on in front of my mirror, she blushed absolutely
crimson."

"Doesn't she have a mirror in her own room?"

"Just a dressing-table mirror, not a full length one. I tell you, it
was quite a shock seeing her practically naked, twisting and turning
and looking at herself like that. I began to realize that this Jane
was having quite a bad effect on my daughter."

"What's so terrible about looking at yourself in the mirror?"

"And there's another thing. Perhaps I shouldn't tell you this.
But..." Marjorie broke off and stared pensively for a moment. I
didn't interrupt. "...Well, later that evening I heard her in her
room, Clare. I knew she was on her own in there, and she was..."

"Having an orgasm?"

Marje sighed. "Yeah."

"Well, what's so terrible about that? I know she's noisy, but..."

"Look, Clare, I don't think I want to talk about this..."

"You don't want to think of your daughter having sexual desires."

"No, I suppose I don't."

"She's nearly twenty, for God's sake! I don't have to remind you, do
I, that by that age, you and I..."

Marje held up her hand to silence me. "Okay, okay," she said
hurriedly, "let's not... I know you're right, Clare, and I know I'm
being irrational. But that was the first time I'd ever heard her.
Ever. And... I don't know..."

"It came as a shock?"

"Well, yes it did. And I just thought - she wasn't like this before
that Jane started interfering in her life."

I sighed. "You know, it wasn't as one-sided as you make it sound."

"What do you mean?"

"Helen wasn't a complete doormat. Jane didn't get it all her way."

"No?" Marjorie sniffed. "That's what it looked like to me."

"You know that Jane was originally planning a threesome. She wanted
to take boyfriend Jim out there as well. They were going to stay at
some camp-site near the beach."

"I did hear mention of that. Of course I said it was out of the
question. You can't sleep in the same tent with a young couple having
it away in the next sleeping-bag."

"Helen seems to have thought the same. And she did put her foot down
about it. That's why Jim had that big row with Jane. Basically, she
had to choose between him and Helen, and... Jane chose Helen."

"Don't think I would have paid a penny towards it - not a penny - if
I'd thought he was going too."

"I'm sure. But it was nice of you to pay for the hotel, and give her
all that spending money."

Marjorie scratched moodily at an imaginary smudge on the table.
"Yeah, well... She doesn't often get the chance for a foreign
holiday, and I know all her friends get to go, so George and I
thought..."

"I'm sure Helen's really grateful. I know she is." I didn't, but I
thought I had better say so.

"And this is how she repays us. We were absolutely horrified when we
got Jim's telephone call. We didn't know what had happened to them.
We thought they'd been abducted or something."

"What did Jim say?"

"Just that they'd left the hotel - they'd sold their reservation to
another couple of girls - and gone off into the mountains without
telling anyone where. Didn't they realize that George and I would be
beside ourselves with worry? She should have told us."

I sighed. "I know. You do have to make allowances, Marjorie."

"That Jane is just totally irresponsible. What on earth possessed her
to drag Helen off into the mountains, when they had that lovely hotel
room, right on the beach?"

"That wasn't Jane's idea, Marjorie. It was Helen's. I know you want
to believe that this was all Jane's doing, but you've got to
understand that your daughter has changed. Something happened while
they were away together, and the present is nothing like the past." I
fished in my bag, brought out a little blue and white box, and shook
its contents out on to the table in front of her. "You recognize
this?"

All the colour drained from Clare's face. "That's Helen's inhaler.
What... What are you doing with it in your bag?" She stared at it
incredulously, then turned to me in bewilderment. "You... you took it
away from her?"

"No, Marjorie. She gave it to me a couple of days ago. She hasn't
needed to use it for over a month."

"But she has a spare. She always carries a spare."

"No, Marjorie. The spare is in a little chapel, high in the
Andalusian mountains. This is the last one."

Marjorie passed a hand across her forehead. "I think you'd better
explain."

"Well, then. I've spoken to both of them separately, and I think I've
more or less pieced the story together."

Marjorie gave a mirthless laugh. "Keeping the witnesses apart, so
they don't confer?"

"Actually, it's more a question of having to, because having a
conversation with either of them when they're together is like
battling with the cosmos. Shall we say that they're apt to get
sidetracked?"

Marjorie frowned, and I thought I'd better press on with their story.

"I got most of it from Helen," I began. "As often happens on these
cheap flights, they had to have separate seats on the way out to
Malaga. Helen didn't mind, because anyway she was in the middle of a
novel, but Jane got chatting to her neighbour - one Sarah from
Penrith. She and a school-friend were going to be camping at a site
not very far from Helen's hotel; and from what Helen has told me,
these two had it in mind to spend their fortnight in much the same
way as Jane - namely, having a good time."

"You mean, getting stoned and picking up blokes?"

"In a nutshell, yes. Anyhow, it seems that Jane made arrangements to
meet up with these two and go out on the town together. And I don't
think Helen would have agreed to go, except that the air-conditioning
in their room was on the blink and it was like an oven in there."

"But I thought we booked them a good room in an expensive hotel!"
Marjorie made her hands into fists. "I hope they complained!"

"Indeed they did. It sounds as if it was a lovely room, Marje - big
balcony overlooking the beach, two double beds, huge mirrors, cool
marble floor, sumptuous bathroom - everything was great. And they did
fix the air conditioning the very next day."

"So I should think!"

"But until the heat of the day had worn off, not comfortable. So
after dinner in the hotel they decided to go out and visit their two
campsite acquaintances."

"Sarah from Penrith."

"Yes, and Judith. Now these two were all for visiting some night-club
a mile or two down the coast, but Helen stipulated that it had to be
a non-smoking club -"

"Because of her asthma."

"- Yes. And it seems that nobody really knew if it was non-smoking or
not, so Jane suggested they postpone the club for one night and just
have a little party right there at the camp-site. Judith and Sarah
had plenty of duty-free vodka, and when Jane let it be known that she
had enough pot to float them over to the coast of North Africa, they
were happy enough to share their booze with Jane and Helen. So the
four of them sat drinking and chatting, and I get the impression that
a pleasant time was had by all."

"They were in the open air?"

"Yes, just lounging around on blankets in front of the tent,
apparently."

"At least it would have been cool."

"I daresay... So all went fine until eventually Jane brought out the
pot and they began lighting up. And of course before long they
started getting silly and giggly, and as Helen was feeling tired, she
excused herself and went back to the hotel. Jane said she'd follow in
a little while."

I thought it better not to mention what else Jane had said - that
Helen was welcome to try out Jane's collection of vibrators if she
had any problem getting to sleep.

"So Helen went to bed and finished reading her novel. By that time,
it was midnight, and still Jane wasn't back. Helen began to feel a
bit anxious about her, so she got dressed and went back down to the
camp site. She told me that she was afraid she'd find the three of
them in a drunken stupor, but that isn't what she found."

"What had happened?"

"Helen isn't sure, and I confess I couldn't pluck up the courage to
ask Jane - even if she remembers, which I somewhat doubt. Basically,
they'd retired inside the tent and zipped it closed, although a
pungent aroma still seemed to be emanating..."

"My God..."

"Helen couldn't hear any words being spoken; just a lot of very quiet
laughing - some of it Jane's. From time to time it would die down,
and then someone would let out a gasp or a moan, and they'd start
tittering again."

Marjorie put her hands over her eyes. "I do hope Helen didn't try to
go in."

"No. She decided that there wouldn't be any point in waiting up for
Jane, so she left them to it and went back to bed for the night."

She peered at me between her parted fingers. "But what were they up to 
in there?"

"Well... Helen did suspect that something... sexual might have been
going on."

"So were these other two, Sarah and..."

"...and Judith..."

"Sarah and Judith, were they a gay couple, then?"

"No, not at all - as you'll hear later. But I daresay it's not all
that unusual for girls nowadays to have a little bisexual dabble once
alcohol has broken down the inhibitions..."

"...And they're high on pot."

"Exactly. When Helen confronted her about it later, apparently Jane
was really embarrassed, and would only deny that they'd 'actually had
sex' - so let's just say that we all have our suspicions, and leave
it at that."

Marjorie was about to say something - I was afraid she wouldn't be
able to resist taking another pot-shot at Jane - but she caught the
look in my eye and wisely subsided.

"So... Helen wakes up bright and early the next morning - still no
Jane - and by the time she's ready for breakfast, the maintenance men
are banging on the door to fix the air conditioning."

"Well, that's something, I suppose."

"I thought so. And they were quick, too. By the time she'd had
breakfast, the room was like a fridge, she told me, so she actually
turned the thermostat up a bit. She said she'd put on jeans and a
t-shirt for breakfast, but outside the temperature was already
climbing, so she went for a light cotton skirt instead of the jeans.
And then she went round the town, window-shopping and... well,
shopping, until the heat became unbearable. And then she went back to
her room for a siesta - and actually fell asleep."

"Tired so soon? She seems to have settled into the Mediterranean way
of life remarkably quickly."

"And slept for about an hour, until her sweet slumber was
unceremoniously terminated by Jane giving her an almighty spank on
the bottom."

I did not mention the detail that Jane told me with such mischievous
glee - that Helen was stark naked on the bed with a vibrator lying
beside her. The plot was moving swiftly enough without regaling dear
mother with that one.

"It seems that Jane had been up most of the night, slept through the
morning, and was now determined to drag poor Helen down to the beach
for some serious sunbathing."

"My God, how frightful. Did Helen send her packing?"

"Helen was sweet, complaisant Helen. She meekly put on her nothing
bikini and allowed herself to be led down on to the blazing sands."

"In that bikini? She must have caused an uproar!"

"Nothing of the kind. They see so many pretty girls floating around
in next to nothing that nobody even turns a hair. So there they are,
setting out their blanket. Now of course Jane is dark and rather
swarthy, so she just splashes on a bit of factor 4 and she's fine.
But Helen..."

"I warned her. She should have had factor ten at least."

"Absolutely. And Jane was very helpful in applying it - just about
anywhere the sun might conceivably reach. Helen began to wonder if
Jane had maybe picked up a few ideas from our Penrith friends."

"You mean she let this girl...?"

"I don't want to ruin your innocence, dear, but by the time Jane had
finished with her and she was lying there topless in the full heat of
the August sun, your daughter was, as she quite honestly confessed to
me, more turned on than she'd ever been in her life."

I looked at Marjorie to see how she was taking it. She was scarlet
with embarrassment. "So... is that when it all started?" she asked
me, her voice low and tremulous with fear. I could almost hear what
she was thinking: her precious, pure daughter, seduced by this wanton
adventuress.

"Not exactly, dear, but perhaps this was when Helen began to realize
about herself."

Marjorie covered her face with her hands. "This is hard for me,
Clare."

"I know, dear. I know." I took her hand and grasped it in mine, so
she had to look at me. "But you've got to be realistic. It's no good
pretending that this is all the fault of wicked Jane. Let's look at
it objectively. Helen's never wanted for a boyfriend, has she?"

"No." Marjorie was blinking rapidly. "Quite the opposite."

"She's got the looks..." I prompted her.

"Yes. Really, she's been able to take her pick, pretty well."

"And would you say that on the whole, she's a good judge of people?"

"Meaning boyfriends?"

"Yes. Were they nice?"

"Yes. We've never had any cause to worry."

"And these boyfriends, they would have found Helen attractive."

"Of course."

"Yeah, I think so. And you'd agree, wouldn't you, that Helen was
never particularly assertive?" We both smiled at that. "Would you say
that she's been dutiful, obedient, even rather biddable, perhaps?"

"What are you driving at, Clare?"

"Passive, even?"

Marjorie was becoming agitated. "Yes - perhaps - but what are you
saying?"

"She's very attractive, which I'm sure none of her very nice
boyfriends will have failed to notice, and she's also of a rather
passive disposition - apparently - and yet surprise, surprise, she's
never let one man so much as put his hand on her tits. Why do you
think that is?"

"I suppose she didn't let them."

"So she could be assertive sometimes. Then why did she let Jane touch
her all over? And I have to tell you, that after Jane put that lotion
on her, she was scared to move because she was afraid she'd left a
wet patch on the blanket. Do you understand, Marjorie?"

Marjorie's face contorted in pain. I was afraid she'd start crying
again, but to my surprise, she didn't. She clenched and unclenched
her hands for a few moments, then relaxed and sighed. "I've been
trying to come to terms with it, Clare." Her voice was suddenly calm,
and quiet as if she were talking to herself. "Every few hours I look
at myself in the mirror and I say 'Marje, perhaps your youngest
daughter is gay.' Hell, I do it every twenty minutes." Her face
crumpled again and I shoved a tissue at her. She took it, but just
held it to her mouth and coughed once or twice into it. "I'm just so
sorry for her," she muttered at last, then shook her head. "But that
doesn't help, does it?"

"No, it doesn't help," I said firmly, "and what's more, I don't think
it's very appropriate. Get me another glass of water, dear, have a
refill, and let me carry on with the story. I honestly think that
when you've heard the whole thing, you'll feel much better about it
all." 

While she was gone, I went through the details in my mind as Helen
had recounted them to me. A mother really doesn't want to hear very
much about her daughter's sexual awakening; but at the same time,
Helen needed her mother's love and understanding - and there could be
no understanding unless Marjorie could come to grips with what had
happened out there in Spain. I'd rehearsed a few phrases that I hoped
would get the facts across without actually rubbing her nose in all
the gory details.

"Thanks, dear," I said when Marjorie returned with the drinks. "Now
listen carefully to this, because we're getting to the weird part of
the story."

"Weird?"

"Yes, you'll see... Now I know this is uncomfortable for you, but I
want you to imagine the scene. It's baking hot, the sun is beating
down, Jane rolling around nearly naked just a few inches away, and
Helen is, well, boiling with lust."

"Ugh..."

I raised my hand. "What does Helen do? Does she leap up and start
screwing the nearest attractive female, who just so happens to be
Jane? She does not. She lies there, trying to get a grip on herself.
And guess what happens..."

Marjorie's eyes widened in an expression of helplessness. "Tell me,"
she said simply.

"Something very dreadful and very familiar starts to happen. She
feels a tightness in her chest. It gets tighter and tighter... She
can't breathe..."

"Oh my God," cried Marje, suddenly understanding, "Asthma!"

"Exactly." I've seen Helen when it strikes her, and Marjorie must
have seen it countless times. The little frown, the eyes darting in
terror, and then looking up in panic. "Of course, the moment she
realizes, she's frantically scrabbling in her beach bag for her
inhaler. And guess what?"

Marje shook her head rapidly, understanding from my tone that
something must have gone amiss. "I don't know, she... she'd left it
in the hotel?"

"Yup. She'd left her inhaler in her room. So she just croaked
'Sorry... Asthma' to Jane, and struggled back up to their room on the
nineteenth floor."

Marjorie was wide-eyed still, this time in alarm. "Did she make it?
She didn't black out?"

"Fortunately, no. For one thing, they were really only a few yards
from the hotel, so she left Jane guarding their stuff, stumbled
across the road and straight into reception. Luckily, the lift was
free and waiting for her. So within a couple of minutes she'd got her
inhaler, and after a couple of puffs the worst was over."

"Phew!"

"I expect that's what Helen said. Anyway, she decided that before she
went down to the beach again, she'd better just lie down for a few
minutes and get herself calm."

Marjorie nodded. Mental calm is as important as the medication, as we
both knew. I didn't think it necessary to add that the inhaler had
done nothing to deal with the other problem.

"So she's just lying there on her bed, not wearing very much, feeling
a bit dizzy as she always does after she's had a dose of the inhaler,
and perhaps even more so having come suddenly from the full force of
the blazing sun into a beautifully cool room..." I let my voice trail
off.

"Go on, Clare. Something happened, didn't it? What happened?"

"The door clicked open. Those were Helen's exact words."

"It was locked, wasn't it?"

"We think so. But perhaps Helen hadn't shut it properly in her haste
to get to her inhaler. Now I'm telling you this exactly as Helen told
me. She'd obviously been over and over it in her mind, trying to
remember every detail. And every detail is important, as you'll see.
One of the first weird things - or it struck Helen as weird
afterwards - was that she didn't look up. She just assumed that it
was Jane, come to see if she was all right. So she just lay there
with her eyes closed, still trying to relax. And after a moment, she
heard the door close and the lock click. And then there was one of
those chain things that you can use to prevent even the staff getting
in with a master key. She heard the chain being fixed, so they
couldn't be disturbed. And then, for a long time, there was silence.
Helen imagined that Jane was just standing there, looking at her, as
she lay almost naked on the bed, with the inhaler lying there beside
her. And then, after what she thinks could have been as much as two
minutes - a long time, anyway - she suddenly heard a swishing noise
right beside her. That's when she opened her eyes."

Marjorie was looking intently at me now, terror in her eyes. Probably
she could tell from my tone of voice that something wasn't quite
right. "Who was it? Who was it, Clare?"

"Helen thought it was Jane, slipping off her bikini."

"She thought it was Jane?"

"Well, she says it looked like Jane."

Marjorie gave a short, slightly hysterical laugh. "Well, then it was
Jane. I mean, Helen should know..."

"All right, then, let's assume it was Jane. The next moment, in one
smooth movement, Jane is on the bed, kneeling over Helen on all
fours, looking intently into Helen's eyes. Now this is the first
thing that Helen can't quite remember exactly. She thinks that Jane
actually said 'I love you, Helen,' but it might just have been the
look in Jane's eyes. I've seen that look, Marjorie, and I know
exactly what Helen means. Anyway, here is Helen with a very pretty,
naked friend apparently making an amorous advance. Need I say what
happens next?"

"Oh, God, can we get this over with? I suppose she kissed her, is
that it?"

"No, Marje, wrong. The asthma comes back. Not as bad as before, but
still, bad enough that Helen makes a grab for the inhaler. But Jane
snatches it away and won't let her have it."

Marjorie cocked her head in indignation. "What the hell was Jane
playing at?"

"I don't exactly know, Marje, but as far as Helen can recall, she
said these words, and they made such an impression on Helen that she
sometimes thinks they were the only words she did actually hear, and
all the rest was in her imagination. What Jane said was, 'You won't
be needing that any more. From now on, you have me.' And it was
definitely Jane's voice: Helen is quite sure about that. - Anyway,
saying that, Jane laughs and tosses the inhaler over on to her own
bed. So Helen begins to panic and starts panting, but Jane hushes
her, takes her hands, and stretches her arms up over her head. Okay,
this is where it gets a bit physical, but the details are so strange
that I think I'm going to have to go into them a bit. You'll
understand why in a minute."

Marje turned away from me. I could see that she was blushing in
embarrassment, but I steeled myself to continue, my voice very quiet.
"Jane was smiling down at Helen - she told me she felt as if Jane
were looking directly into her soul. Jane told her to close her eyes
and relax; so she tried to, even though her breath was coming rather
short. Then she felt Jane's finger stroking along her upstretched
arms, just touching and stroking with one finger, first one arm and
then the other, very very lightly. If ever Helen made the smallest
movement, Jane hushed her and calmed her, and then went back to
touching her. Gradually, the finger worked its way lower and lower,
moving so slowly and touching so lightly that at first Helen found it
maddening - that's the word she used. But after a while, it was as if
she'd become hypnotized: all she could feel was Jane's touch, and a
sensation of warmth flowing from there into her own body. She began
to feel as if she were suspended, floating in space. At some point
she became aware that she could feel the brush of Jane's hair, and
that the touches had become kisses. She reckons that Jane didn't
leave one square inch unkissed, but it was all a bit of a blur. And
once the thong bikini came off..." I sighed. "Well, let's just say
that it all became even more of a blur - a very nice blur, but Helen
has no idea how long it went on for. All she's sure about is that at
the end, she went off like Mount Vesuvius."

I glanced at Marjorie. From her rapid breathing, and the blush on her
cheek, I could tell that she had been listening. Good. "Jane
continued gently kissing her for a little while, and then she got off
the bed and just stood there, looking down at Helen - who was in a
complete daze, as you might imagine."

"Yeah..." Marjorie breathed, nodding.

"She felt she couldn't move a muscle - all thought of asthma
completely gone, of course. She just lay there, looking at Jane's
outline through half-closed eyes. She says that she saw Jane turn
away and walk towards the big windows that led to the balcony.
Practically the whole front of the room was glass, with just curtains
at the sides, a net curtain drawn across from either side, and these
big glass sliding doors in the middle. She says she saw Jane pause at
the doors, which were a little way open, and then slip through the
net curtain and out on to the balcony."

"What, in the nude?"

"Apparently so. Helen just saw the shape of her body as a silhouette,
but it was hard to see because of course the sun was streaming in on
to the net curtain. Helen thinks she must have dozed, but she doesn't
know if it was for a few minutes or a few seconds. But then,
suddenly, she felt a sense of foreboding. Her words were 'I felt as
if something really bad was happening, as if something was going
terribly wrong.' She raised herself on one elbow and looked out on to
the balcony. But there was nobody there."

I could see that Marjorie had been following the story carefully,
because she had gone from blushing to pale in a matter of seconds.
"Nobody there?" she echoed.

"Nobody."

"You mean it was all a dream - the whole thing?"

I nodded. "That was Helen's very first thought. And then she saw the
chain on the door, and her inhaler on Jane's bed. And... other
evidence that some part of her experience had been real enough."

"You said that Jane took off her bikini. Was that still lying on the
floor?"

"No. But even so, everything had seemed so real to Helen - almost
more real than reality usually is - that's how she put it - that she
became persuaded that Jane must have fallen from the balcony. So of
course she rushed out there."

I looked at Marjorie to see if she was going to ask "what, in the
nude?" again, but she didn't.

"Helen was in a complete panic. She looked over the edge of the
parapet, but there was no sign that anyone had plunged to their
death. And then she looked out on to the beach... and there was their
blanket, with Jane lying on it, just as she had been when Helen had
left her to get her inhaler. And that's when Helen became convinced
that something terrible was happening to Jane. So she struggled back
into her beach clothes as fast as she could, and rushed down to Jane
as if a pack of devils were after her."

"And was anything the matter with Jane?"

"Very much so, I'm afraid. You see, she'd been up half the night,
fooling around with booze and pot and Sarah from Penrith, and Helen
found out later that she'd had a few more vodkas in the morning as a
hair-of-dog type thing, and then she'd crashed out in the
Mediterranean sun at practically the hottest time of the day."

"Sunburn?"

"Sunstroke. She was delirious when Helen woke her, and I think if
she'd been out there very much longer she'd have had to go to
hospital. As it was, Helen was able to more or less drag her over to
the hotel. They were very helpful in reception."

"I suppose they get quite a few people each year who aren't used to
the sun."

"I'm sure. They gave Helen a little information sheet that told her
what to do, and rushed an ice bucket up to their room. They even sent
someone out to rescue their beach things, which was a nice touch."

"Was she badly burned?"

"Luckily, no. We aren't sure just how long she'd been out there -
Helen's idea of the passage of time was quite hazy, as you can
imagine. Well, although Jane was still raving, Helen managed to get
her up to their room, and after she'd been sick a couple of times,
the delirium seemed to wear off."

"Poor Helen!"

"Yes, I think she found it quite scary at first. Anyway, she insisted
on giving Jane the full treatment, as set out in the information
leaflet - cooling her down with ice and cold swabs all over the body
- and Jane submitted very meekly, just letting Helen touch her all
over. Eventually, when all the ice was melted, Helen was still
touching her, and then she realized that she was now doing to Jane
more or less exactly what Jane had done to her during that strange
dream or vision or whatever you want to call it. Only now, of course,
the roles were reversed."

Marjorie was pensive. "Yes, that certainly is weird." She shivered. 
"And it wasn't just the roles that were reversed."

"Meaning?"

"If Helen had been handling ice, I suppose her fingers would have been 
cold."

"Yes, they would. - So?"

"Didn't you say that in the dream, Helen had felt warmth flowing into 
her from Jane?"

It was my turn to shiver. "I hadn't thought of that before," I 
murmured. "- Mind you, not quite everything was reversed."

"Oh?"

"Let's just say that at some point during the sunstroke treatment,
Helen kissed Jane and the gesture was very much reciprocated."

Marjorie smiled sadly. "Ahh..."

"It turned out that Jane had been in love with Helen for
weeks, but hadn't dared to let her know, or even really admit it to
herself. So if you need an explanation for why Jane was so adamant
that Helen should come away with her on holiday, and why she was
always round here fussing over her, you now have your explanation."

Marjorie was crying again, but her tears now were calmer, and
sentimental, not bitter. "It's as if Helen had somehow picked up
Jane's distress signals, isn't it?" she said.

"Yes. Helen said, 'I felt her calling to me.' I think perhaps that's
what happened. Anyway, that's what they believe, and perhaps that's
all that matters...

"By the way - I have to tell you one very amusing little detail. The
little sunstroke treatment sheet was in rather stilted English. Among
the list of recommended treatments there were 'shoulder massage;
cervical massage.'"

"You're joking."

"I'm not. I've seen it for myself. Helen keeps it as a highly prized
souvenir. Of course, it really means 'neck massage', but that's not
what Helen thought."

Marjorie began to laugh. "You don't mean to tell me that..."

I laughed too, and nodded. Could I mention the vibrator?

But Marjorie's laughter fell short, and she blushed. "Oh my God, I
don't think you'd better tell me any more," she said, and then
laughed again despite herself. "Now you've got my imagination going."

"Maybe Helen will tell you herself some day," I said. "Let's just say
that it was the source of considerable merriment. Anyway, although
Jane was a lot better by evening, she wasn't well enough to go down
for dinner. Or at least, that's what Helen decided. But by the next
morning... well, all appetites were restored, and from what I've
heard, the dining-room and the bedroom provided everything they
needed to satisfy them for the next two days."

"You mean they spent two whole days just..."

"Making love, yes. I suppose they felt they had a lot of catching up
to do. On the third evening, when they went down to dinner, there was
a phone message for them at reception - they'd had the phone
switched off, you see."

"A message? From...?"

"From Jim. He'd decided to attempt a reconciliation, and basically
the message was to say that he would be turning up at the hotel the
very next afternoon and, I quote, hoped that Jane would be able to
find him some accommodation."

"What a cheek! Did he expect to stay in their room?"

I shrugged. "Possibly. Probably. I don't know. Anyway, Helen asked
Jane whether she wanted to see him, and Jane said no, but she didn't
know what to do. So, basically, Helen took charge. She told Jane that
she'd prefer to go and stay somewhere quieter and more romantic. Back
on her first day, she'd found an agency that did lettings up in the
Andalusian mountains, and she'd seen several last-minute
cancellations that they could afford. And with Jane's credit card,
they'd be able to hire a car to get them up there."

"And fun-loving Jane just went along with that?"

"Absolutely. It's as if, right from that sunstroke incident, their
roles were completely reversed. Helen made all the decisions, and
Jane just followed along unquestioningly. Well, the next morning,
they went down to this agency and picked upon a nice little place,
complete with swimming pool, right up in the mountains, for just over
half what you'd paid for the hotel. And Jane told me that Helen quite
shamelessly used all her wiles to beat them down on price. She did
the same thing at the car hire place, too. They let her have an
air-conditioned car for the price of a basic model."

"She actually haggled with them? My Helen?" Marjorie shook her head
in wonderment.

"Yes, and as a result they still had spending money to spare. That's
not the best of it, though. While they were packing up to leave, who
should show up, but Judith and Sarah from Penrith. They'd come to see
Jane, of course, but basically I think they were hoping for a bit
more of her stash. So Helen said that if they'd do their best to
entertain Jim, they could have the hotel room for the rest of the
fortnight, and she'd let them have Jane's hash for half price."

"I don't believe what I'm hearing."

"Jane did try to object to that, actually, but Helen just said to
her, and I quote, 'You won't be needing that any more. From now on,
you have me.' Does that ring a bell?"

"Isn't that what Jane said about the inhaler?"

"Word for word. Anyway, Jane just caved in, and the deal was struck.
Our Jane is now a total non-smoker, I might tell you."

"My God!"

"Which is why I'm not allowed to smoke in my own house, Marje - in
case I set her a bad example. But back to the story. Helen managed to
extract about a hundred and fifty quid out of them, in Spanish money,
so basically they were all set for the mountains. It sounds as if it
was quite a gruelling drive, with a precipice on one side and lorries
thundering past on the other, but by evening they'd made it to this
little village - can't remember the name. Anyway, they went into the
village at about eight o'clock, and the restaurants were only just
opening."

"Amazing."

"They found one overlooking the valley, and from where they were
sitting on the terrace, they could see all the lights in the villages
coming on as the sun set. And a fantastic sky."

"It does sound romantic."

"I should say. I think I'll get Henry to take me there next year.
Apparently they had a three-course meal with wine, get this, Marje,
for fifteen pounds."

"Each?"

"Together. Up there, there aren't so many tourists, you see. Oh, they
loved it, Marje. They made it sound idyllic. Jane was just completely
gobsmacked. It seems that after that, they spent most of their
evenings at this restaurant - they could afford to, you see - and
their days touring round the mountain villages. Except for one day
when they drove up to Grenada, to see the Alhambra Palace. And Helen
got that amazingly stylish hair-do..."

"Yes, why on earth? She always had such lovely long hair - George
thought it was her finest feature. He was cut to the quick when I
told him she'd cut it all off."

"Oh, come on, Marje, it's not as if she'd had a crew cut. Apparently
she got the idea from one of her fashion mags. She reckoned it looked
more stylish with the bikini, and I'm sure she's right. And face
facts, Marje: it's not George she's trying to please, is it?"

"I suppose not."

"Anyway, the last thing I want to tell you about their holiday is
this little mountain chapel they found. It was right up on a pinnacle
above one of the villages they visited on their travels. You could
see for miles over the mountains and valleys - apparently it was
quite cold and windy up there, despite the sunshine, that's how high
it was. So they went inside, and it was one of these funny Catholic
jobs with a big statue of Mary all done in blue and gold leaf, you
know, very tasteless, and leaning against the walls they had slings
and crutches and even a rickety old wheelchair, apparently left by
people who thought they'd had miraculous cures. And on the walls
there were all these tablets saying 'Gracias' for this and that. So
Helen - she did a bit of Spanish at school, didn't she? - she starts
reading some of them, and she finds one that says - I can't remember
the Spanish, but it was 'Thank you for my lovely little girl.' So she
points it out to Jane, and..."

At this point, I remembered Jane's emotion as she had described the
scene to me a few days before, and I couldn't keep the tears out of
my voice.

"...and they hugged and they cried, and then they put some money in
the box and lit two candles, and promised one another they'd never
part. And then Helen took her spare inhaler, the full one, out of her
bag..."

"Stop it, Clare, this is too much..."

"I've got to tell you, Marje - she said 'Since I've got you, I won't
be needing this any more.' And she left it there, with the crutches
and the old broken wheelchair."

Neither of us spoke for a while.

"Look, Clare," Marjorie said eventually, "let me get you a glass of
wine. One won't hurt."

"All right, then."

By the time Marjorie was back with the drink, I had recovered myself.
"There's not much more to tell. They found a phone box in the village
and managed to get through to Sarah of Penrith, back at the hotel.
Apparently it hadn't taken much vodka and pot to persuade Jim of the
charms of our lusty lasses from Penrith. So if he thinks of going
after Jane again, he's likely to get a dusty answer.

"And it was only in the last day or so that they began really
thinking about what they were going to do when they got back home.
Helen's idea was to be totally frank about it and tell you at once,
and I think that was very brave of her. I have to tell you, she was
afraid that you wouldn't react very well."

I took a sip of the wine and looked at Marjorie. She had known all
along that this was coming, of course, and she had that hangdog
expression that proved it.

"That's why, as soon as they were through customs, they rang me."

"You?"

"Yes, and I told them that if there were any problems, they could
come to us."

"That was good of you, Clare. We do appreciate it."

"And sadly, when she and Jane finally turned up here, you flew right
off the handle and said she wasn't coming into your house with a
bloody dyke. Not very diplomatic."

"Well I've said that I'm sorry."

I wanted to say "Oh, that's all right then," but I could see that
sarcasm wasn't necessary. I just waited to see if Marjorie would say
anything else. She did.

"It's just that I'm so... disappointed. We had hopes for Helen. We
thought that she might make it as a solicitor, you know..."

"...And meet a nice rich man solicitor and get married and have lots
of nice solicitor babies?"

"That's not what I meant, Clare, not at all."

"What do you mean, then?"

"I mean... Oh, it's just that this is all so limiting. All her
options are closing."

"I don't know about that, Marje. What she ultimately wants is to be
herself, and live a happy life. What's limiting about that?"

"Well... this Jane... I mean, maybe she's very nice, but let's face
it, Clare, she's just a secretary."

"All right, Jane's only a secretary at the moment, but she's applied
for a PA job and been short-listed; so she could be making quite
reasonable money in a little while. And at least she's got a job.
She'll be able to support Helen while she's doing her articles. Okay,
they won't be rich to start with, but at least they'll be able to
find a little place together."

"It's not the money, Clare. Helen's got brains. She needs more
stimulating companionship. And when all's said and done, what has
Jane got to offer?"

"Well, she's got lovely eyes..."

Marjorie made her exasperated hawking noise again. "Oh, for heaven's
sake, Clare. It was just a holiday romance. Helen's got a future.
Jane hasn't. She's just... ordinary."

"Helen doesn't think so, Marje."

"Well, of course not. But it's just an infatuation, that's all. It
won't last."

"Marje, you don't know what you're saying. I've seen my Susan with
her Peter. I've seen John with Pam, and then with Marion, and now
with Becky. I've seen a lot of young people in love, actually, Marje,
and this I know. I have never seen such love in someone's eyes as
I've seen when Jane looks at your daughter. If you think that's
ordinary, then..." I shrugged. "You haven't seen it, that's all."

Restless, Marjorie rose and went over to the mantelpiece, where she
started fiddling with the ornaments. She didn't look towards me.
"Thanks for taking them in, Clare," she said eventually. "I can't
tell you how glad I was to know they were with you and Henry."

"It's lovely having them, honestly. There's such a wonderful
atmosphere around them, you know? I get home from Bergsons' at the
end of the day, I park my car, and the moment I see our house, I
think 'that house is full of love.' I feel as if I can't wait to get
in the door. And they're both so, so grateful! Do you realize, I'm
not even allowed into my own kitchen?"

"What?"

"They insist on doing all the cooking, all the housework. I suppose
it's their way of saying thank-you. And let me tell you, that Jane is
an amazing cook. Apparently she went on one of these Cordon Bleu
courses."

"But aren't they staggeringly expensive?"

"Maybe Jim contributed - a speculative investment, ha ha. I don't
know. All I do know is that we get very small, beautifully presented
dishes of absolutely maddeningly delicious food, and I suppose it's
just as well the portions are small, because otherwise we'd just eat
and eat until we couldn't move. I tell you, Jane could open a
restaurant tomorrow and it would be packed out."

"I do believe you're trying to make me jealous."

"Oh, there are some side-effects that maybe you wouldn't appreciate
quite so much. We're thinking of soundproofing their room, for a
start."

Marjorie made a moue of distaste. "I don't think George and I could
bear..."

"And once or twice I've had to pack them off to their room when they
start getting a bit too affectionate. Oh, and don't for one moment
imagine that short hair-do means that Helen's taken to loafing around
in a bull-dyke boiler suit. She's got this frilly little twenties
number that reveals practically all you could want of those amazing
stocking-packet legs of hers. When Henry sees her in that gear, you
can practically see the steam coming out of his ears. I'd be lying if
I didn't say that things have recently taken on quite a new lease of
life in our own bedroom, too... But sooner or later they'll have to
have a place of their own. Henry and I have offered to help them."

Marjorie seemed astonished. "You have?"

"Yes, and I hope you and George will, too. After all, Helen hasn't
exactly been a high-maintenance item so far. You were very lucky that
you could persuade her to go to the local university. I know very
well how much money that will have saved you. Anyway, I'm not going
to speak out of turn. I'll leave that entirely to you and George."

Speak of the devil... I had been ranting so much that neither of us
had heard his car pull up outside. Now his key was in the lock.

"Hello, Clare," he said, pausing on the threshold. Like Marjorie
earlier, he seemed surprised, and if anything slightly more
uncomfortable.

"I've just been telling Marje all about it," I said - pretty obvious
really, but it was something to fill an awkward silence.

He set his briefcase down and closed the door; then he stood there,
fiddling with his hands. "Um..." he said, in that curiously vacant
way he has. He acts very stupid sometimes, but I've known George for
a good many years and I realize that you've just got to be patient.
And then, raising an eyebrow at me, "How is she?"

"You want the full story or just the executive summary?" He looked
happier when I said "executive summary." "In a nutshell, she's
transformed by happiness." I pointed to the table. "Look over there."

George's eyes narrowed. "Isn't that her inhaler?"

"That's right, George. She doesn't need it any more."

"But... that's extraordinary. What about her asthma?"

"It seems to have gone."

"Gone? But how?"

"I'm not sure. Personally, I think it might be a case of 'Love
conquers all.'"

George made a growling noise in his throat and did some more of his
hand-twiddling. "Marje was very upset, of course, about her hair. She
had lovely hair."

He paused, but I could tell there was more on the way, so I waited.

"But really, I don't give a damn about her hair. All I really want is
for her to be happy. That's all that matters to me. If Jane loves my
daughter and makes her happy, then so be it." George looked down at
the floor and frowned. "I think that's about all I have to say."

Then, without looking either at me or Marjorie, he picked up his
briefcase and stumbled off towards his office. "Will you please tell
her that I said so, Clare?" And then, before shutting the door, "-
And that we will always love her?" Click.

I looked at my watch. "I'd better be getting back, Marje. Doesn't do
to be late for dinner."

She took my hand at the door. "Thanks for coming, Clare. I'll think
about what you said. George and I will have a talk about it."

* * *

Of course I passed on George's message. Helen bit her lip and looked
thoughtful.

A couple of days later, she gave me a note to put in the post on my
way to work. It was addressed to George. I confess I held it up to
the light. I could just about see the writing.

"I love you, Dad. And Mum. See you soon. H"