My Kind of Woman

16. Night Alone Pt.2

--Pictures in the header weren't working, so this chapter feels a bit naked to me :0... I'll admit one when it works again. (edit it's working now)

Christmas was closer than ever and December had reached its middle. Snow had fallen and settled over Twin, Jackie had recovered from her cold and my mind was occupied by the thought of present buying. Jackie made me feel guilty by telling me she'd already bought gifts for me and wasn't giving me any clues as to what she really wanted. So, I realised I actually had to use my brain.

For that weekend in the middle of December, Jackie was away for two nights with her dad visiting extended family. I knew Mio hadn't gone, but I didn't know why. I didn't ask Jackie, just because I didn't want her to think I was prying into her family issues. I minded my own and took that first night while she was away to go out of town for gifts.

On my way to the bus station, I thought about the fact I hadn't even asked Ms. Bisset anything about presents. I would be acting on instinct. Because, of course, I couldn't call her and she'd taken her Christmas break early. Nearer to the break, everyone was either ecstatically happy or moody about the snow - there was no inbetween. I leaned more on the happy side but with a dash of anxiety about how capable I was at buying for others. I'd bought for my dad, but he was so ridiculously easy so I almost just didn't count him.

Standing ankle deep in the partially melted snow at the bus station, I felt like I was harbouring a huge secret on my person. In the casual bag slung over my shoulder was a book on women's love. It wasn't like the gag gift Jackie had got me a month back. It was a novel, it was a story - a bestseller in fact! I'd picked it on the way home from school an evening before. Jackie was busy so I couldn't have dragged her along or gone with her home, my dad was still working and Giana hated me - so ambling around the shops alone was my only option really.

A small bookstore on a street corner had been my favourite place as a child. It smelt of wrinkled paper and second-hand clothing, the owner was a greying woman who wore eyeglasses with the strap that made them hang from your neck. She wasn't very chatty, but as a younger girl, I'd pretended that she was my grandma that was just very quiet. I used to sit on the floor in front of the counter, reading something impressive for my age group and she never scolded me once. On one rare occasion, she even gave me a piece of candy while it rained one stormy summer. At my age then, I just borrowed books from the shelves in my house and hadn't bothered to go and buy anything new. But that lonely evening, I wandered inside, looking for something to pique my interest. It smelled the same, and appeared untouched from my fond memories. Even that same woman was sitting behind the counter.

I trailed through into the innards of the shop, finding myself in the romance section. It was a section I never ventured into; usually hanging around the non-fiction or political section. But each name printed onto the spines of the books had caught my eye. Titles like Doves On The Wind, Thirteen Moons, The Taste of a Mouth. Then, nearer to the end of the row, a wine-coloured spine that had the title Her Lover. I slid it out off the shelf and stared at it laid against my palm. Its cover was a woman's torso with a feminine hand gripped on her wait, nails shaped and painted, fingers thin. I flipped it over and the blurb read :

In the depths of an English manor, a forbidden romance between a Lady and a housemaid. The tale of two women chasing each other in a secret, steamy love affair.

My heart was racing under my blouse. I hurriedly swiped another random book off the shelf and placed it over Her Lover. I bought both books and made away with them, red-faced and giddy.

But I'd only read a few pages at home, being interrupted by my dad calling for dinner. I didn't pick it up again until I made the decision to bring it along with me on my Christmas shopping outing. But lying in my bag, it felt like a secret weighing a ton of gold bricks. I was dressed non-suspiciously in my parka, gloves and boots fine for snow.