The Presidents Gay Wife Pt 04

Chapter 10

Canned food tycoon Sir Richard Marsh sat with Lady Marsh, chairman of the National Unity Party, to watch the highly promoted program of Lydia Lovelock interviewing the 'controversial' wife of the President, The Lady Magnolia Fitzroy.

Richard sniffed and Sylvia told him to stop sniffing because it was an impolite habit.

"What did Magnolia actually do with this other woman?" he asked. "I've never been sure what gay women would do."

"Just about everything that a man and women do, even more if they are inventive. Now shut up and listen."

"Couldn't we watch a travel show?"

"No."

Richard sighed and worried about the price of steel creeping up in the face of worldwide demand.

The interviewer, very attractive for a forty-something, was back-grounding the controversy surrounding Lady Fitzroy unfortunately being exposed publicly as having a lesbian affair and that the term 'controversy' had arisen because the Gay Woman's Collective had argued it was a perfectly acceptable coupling to occur between two women whereas the pulpit thumpers and the Greens had spat brimstone in opposing such wishy-washy acceptance labeling that as being 'morally bereft'.

The woman then told viewers if the sordid affair was in dispute as being 'controversial' then what about Lady Fitzroy's intention to stand for a parliamentary seat in the next General Election?

"What!" Sylvia screamed.

"What's what?"

"Be quiet, and listen. This is of grave national importance."

Yeah, yeah, Richard thought. So was a shortage of tinned cat food not twelve months ago when Sylvia had found empty shelves at the supermarket with a sign saying 'Try dog roll'. Women actually marched on Parliament calling for a national emergency to be declared. Those cat lovers had no brains -- they should have called for the Air Force to fly in supplies from abroad, using the emergency as a military exercise.

Richard looked at the sweet Lady Fitzroy and thought of the days when women like her virtually lined up to ask if he were interested. He wasn't of course, being happily married to Sylvia who in those days was ravishing and he ravished her often. Of course there were the occasional exceptions and this cute lady would have been a regular exception.

Intervier: Why have you decided to stand for a seat in Parliament?

Lady Fitzroy: To become a MP.

Richard roared with laughter and said, "Oh darling, aren't you so sweet."

Sylvia almost choked with anger as she was also sucking her hair, something she did when under stress and denied it was just as repulsive as a man scratching his nuts. "Will you shut up!"

"Yes dear." He decided to say that instead of asking what was that dear?

The dreary woman labored on asking pedestrian questions until they reached a very juicy bit, encouraging Richard to sit forward on his chair, brushing his moustache as if it were to announce a company takeover offer.

Interviewer: When both of you undressed and you sank down to fondle one another, what were your thoughts?

Lady Fitzroy: I hoped I was going to like what was about to happen. It was my afternoon of madness.

Interviewer: No feeling of repulsion?

Lady Fitzroy: Of course not. Do you see women's bared bodies as being repulsive.

Interviewer: No, of course not.

Lady Fitzroy: Then why ask the question?

Interviewer: Look, I'm the interviewer. After it finished did you feel you loved that other woman?

Lady Fitzroy: No.

Interviewer: Don't you feel that was a little strange?

Lady Fizroy: Of course not, do you love all the men who [bleep] you.

Intervierer (turning puce): We pause here for an ad break.

Richard said to his wife, noting she had stuffed strands of hair into both sides of her mouth, "That was a riveting piece of TV. Lady Fitzroy is running rings around that interviewer who is touted as TV Interviewer of the Year."

"Darling, I think you have lost yourself in interview byplay instead of judging the interviewer on her ability to draw out meritorious responses?"

"What was that dear?"

"Stop being a clown Richard, you can see I'm under extreme stress."

"Why?"

"Because this woman, a whore, has told the country on network TV that she is going to contest a seat on behalf of the National Unity Party with no approach having been made to me. Damn that slimy husband of hers who has unreasonable influence on the PM who is our political party leader."

"Don't blame him. She's got more brains than he has. And why call her a whore? I can't recall you calling yourself a whore when you were putting it around during a downside in our relationship?"

Sylvia bristled. "Richard, for goodness sake, there can be no comparison because at that time I was under stress. I'm also telling you now she'll not win selection to stand for a seat because I remain disgusted by her despicable behavior with that other woman and she did not have the decency to make an appointment with me to discuss her political ambition."

"Bad move Sylvia, she'll go to Alf and offer to stand for a seat to represent his party."

"Poof, he won't do that. Alf has indicated he's divorcing his wife."

"Don't be thick Sylvia. Alf will go for her, especially if the country roots for this Magnolia standing against the National Unity Party who spurned her. You know what they say about people taking the side of the little battler."

"Oh God, Richard. You're so right. I've been blinded by my anger. We must have Lord Fitzroy and that woman of his over for dinner tomorrow."

"You better do better than referring to her as 'that woman' darling."

"Oh yes, of course. I sit reprimanded dear."

* * *

As arranged, Magnolia sat alone with Lydia Lovelock in the presenter's locked dressing room for a half-an-hour after the interview while they sipped wine and discussed reactions as Lydia believed the best critics of any interview were the interviewer and her subject. She already knew Magnolia would speak her mind.

"You were delightful to interview Magnolia, quick-minded, witty and clear in diction and in how you expressed yourself. You can imagine my initial thoughts when told, without you being named at that point, you were a mindless lesbian married to a guy almost twice your age and you had only just recently taken up work and regularly hobnob with the gentry."

"Yes, it must have been confusing for you. And when you were given my name?"

"I rub my hands and thought I'd publicly crucify the slut."

"And?"

"In rolls Kitty Loveridge. She's awesome but consistently refuses to come on to my show."

"Why not?"

"She says she prefers to operate out of the limelight. Have you and she, you know?"

"Lydia, for goodness sake. She'd murder me if I dared to touch. By the way, you departed from the agreed script."

"Yes I know and I wished I hadn't because you hammered me on both occasions, but then again it produced hot television. I had Kitty's permission to deviate a little and she understood, saying following a script makes an interview appear rather stilted. I nearly died when you used the f-word. No one has ever done that to me before."

"Sorry, I became a little carried away. It would be bleeped wouldn't it?"

"I would think so. I'd like to put this interview aside to join the few I have as possible entries for media awards. Would you mind?"

"No, of course not. In return, would you do the commentary of a pre-election promo I plan to have done. Kitty says we need to find a woman with a rather low-pitched voice. In my opinion that's you. I would pay you well."

"It's my policy not to..."

"Please, I have to burst out of this lesbian fixation people now have of me. I want to expose to them my potential of growing to become a politician of some significance in representing the people."

Lydia sighed, "As a champion of women's interests?"

"Stuff that. There are other Patsies around to prattle on about that. I hope to represent the National Unity Party so my platform will be to push for advances in nationalism including national identify to accurately this country's diverse nationalities and cultures because were are a nation of immigrants."

"Wow, yes of course I'll do the narration. Would you like to lunch with me on Sunday? I live alone but various guys have a habit of walking in when I'm feeling in need of company, if you know what I mean. Bring your minder, I think she's lovely and bring your husband if he's available or leave him at home if you believe he will be politically embarrassed by my somewhat immoral lifestyle."

"Goodness. You are a TV celebrity so I think he'll feel it's an invitation he was justified in accepting. He also says firmly he can't be held responsible for the wickedness of misfits he associates with and that perhaps explains why he's sticking with me. By the way, have you interviewed Jim Gee?"

"He's another one who turns us down. His father owns a rival TV station in this city."

"When we go to dinner in a few minutes I suggest you wheedle Kitty into putting the hard word on Jim. She and Jim are about to resume a relationship after a sixteen-year gap."

"Ohmigod. Kitty is as hard as nails except I imagine when in bed and like him she is driven and consumed by everything she lays a hand to. Those two are made for one another."

"Lydia, what about this? Get them both on together and push to get the show extended for an hour. Have two others with you asking questions because Jim and Kitty are very personable and knowledgeable. And then wind up the show with them saying what they see in one another and why they hear wedding bells. Half the women in this city may harbor the thoughts of having Jim Gee's slippers under their bed. Those women and men who know of Kitty will wonder what Jim sees in her as many know her as kick-ass Kitty."

"Yeah, great idea. Thanks and we better join the others now. Let's see what Kitty says about assisting to push Jim on to my show first."

Kitty met Jim the next day for their long-planned lunch. Both wore jeans, an open-neck white shirt and sneakers, so a casual lunch-place seemed inevitable.

"Hi, you look very kissable," he greeted, kissing her.

Coming up for breath she said smoothly, "You've learned to kiss well."

"Yes, indeed. Imagine had I'd stalled at sexual development had I spent the past sixteen years glued to your side?"

"Yeah, and me still waiting for you to get over your fumbling to have sex with me."

"Did that comment end with a question mark or was it a statement."

"Let me see. And still waiting to have sex with me -- question mark."

"I would have banged you the first night."

"Oooh."

He grinned and she thought the exposed enamel checked out just great. So, did he like her perfume?

They began walking aimlessly, he talking her arm and then sniffing.

She held her breath.

"Is that sweat I detect?"

She snorted and attempted to pull her arm out the crook of his arm but he clamped it.

"Unable to appreciate a delicately balanced sense of humor eh?"

"You're a pig."

"Oh dear but is that being kind to pigs?"

She relaxed against him.

"That's better. I can't name it but because of the exotic depth of fragrance I would have to guess French."

"That's good enough. Oh, here's an outside table under an umbrella. Will this do?"

"What kind of restaurant is it?"

"Does it matter?"

"I suppose not. In this expensive locality it wouldn't survive if it weren't good."

"It could have been a butcher's shop yesterday and opened today as a restaurant."

"Good thinking, I'll have meat."

Kitty decided on balance they were getting along pretty well. Both were strong-willed so could not expect too much. "Did you watch my protégé on TV last night?"

"I did, keeping one eye on it. It was prime time for me."

"Of course, always a newspaper to produce. What did you think?"

"Truly?"

Kitty sighed and held up her hand to attract the attention of a waiter.

"I thought it was running to script but then took a couple of amazing twists. Rarely have I seen Lydia so much on the back foot that I had a rethink. Anyway, it's amazing what you have achieved with Lady Fitzroy in such a short time."

"Thank you. Lydia wants you to appear on her show."

"Okay."

"You'll do it?"

"Does okay in that context mean something else?"

Kitty reached across and squeezed his arm affectionately. "I expected you to rant so didn't bother with a soft sell."

"The fact you didn't bother with the soft sell told me you really had worked it through with Lydia and thought I should say yes, because you must have a reason for asking."

"Fair enough but you would think my reasoning is petty."

"Try me."

Kitty wondered how to break it to him that Lydia also wanted her to appear with Jim. She decided to hold out on that for as long as possible. "Magnolia wants Lydia to narrate a promo she intends having made professionally to help push her election chances."

"I see. She agrees conditionally that my good friend Kitty delivers me to Lydia's program?"

"Something like that."

"Well how about this. I'm adding a condition to my appearance -- that we both appear for a joint interview."

Her mind reeling, Kitty said, "Are you certain you want that? I've refused her in the past and what if we clashed on public TV?"

"Viewers would probably find that very believable. Think of the honesty of your protégé when asked about her thoughts on embarking on a woman-on-woman bonk -- 'I wondered if I were going to like this?' No fancy intellective thought and sure as hell that wasn't part of your script."

"My script?"

"Yes, your script. Your fingerprints were all over it? That term she used, 'My afternoon of madness' is so you. Although that part was reactionary rather than scripted I know you would have dropped that phrase on to her lap during pre-appearance chatting."

"Well, I was less than honest with you. I should have said earlier I was responsible for most of the script. I needed to keep control because Magnolia had so much to lose if the interview had gone against her."

"I can accept that. Shall we agree neither of us attempts to control our joint appearance if Lydia decides she really wants us on her show together?"

"Yes, I promise."

"Then you have my word not to interfere or influence."

Their wine arrived and they opened their classy menus.

"This is a fish restaurant," he charged.

"So much for my theory this was a butcher's shop until last night. It may be of some comfort to you to find I'm not always right and certainly not always in control."

Jim gave her a toothy smile. "I'm going to enjoy living with you because you are so damn interesting. And no pushover."

"Thank you. It may interest you that I could consider marrying you if you prove to be a great bonk."

"Actually this selection of fish looks very good."

"Not interested in what I just said?"

"Oh, I took that for granted as why else would you seek to pick up with me again after such a long gap? You are aware women are figuratively strewn in my wake like bananas behind a group of migrating monkeys. All have tried me and rejected me and now you see it as your duty to pick me up and carry me to the altar to ensure my life is not totally wasted by allowing me to legitimately father your thirteen children."

Kitty spluttered on her wine. "Thirteen?"

"Whatever."

"I rather like that story."

Jim smiled and asked why do she think he was sniffing around again?

"Oh, it's not a colorful and total fabrication like yours. You complained to your mother you could find no one to marry. She said marry Kitty, you're always moaning on about her. End of story."

"Kitty, your imagination simply overwhelms me. Undo your top two buttons."

With hesitation or protest Kitty undid two and then undid the third because she thought he was being a good boy and deserved a bonus.

Neither of them mentioned what she'd done but she was aware he was often looking there when speaking. He was such a good boy for not making a thing about it when he could easily have heaped a thousand words of praise and adoration and included poetic quotations conveniently underpinning his fixation on that part of the developed anatomy of women. They knew each other and thought similar closely enough to know there were times when you communicate without speaking and feel totally comfortable about sharing the same wavelength. She also believed proudly that she had great looking breasts. That's why there was no need to fuss. Kitty prepared to slide him into an intelligent conversation but in the meantime she was in no hurry because not many women have a guy who truly admires them.

Next day as Kitty and Jim sauntered arm-in-arm through the great relic of British Imperialism, the botanical gardens, they did talk like intelligent adults. But near the end of their time over afternoon tea in the pavilion, the conversation took the expected twist back to sex.

He said: "Is this enough wooing?"

She said: "Two two-hour session is not much, but I suppose so."

"Here now, under a tree away from the pathway?"

He was practically panting, she thought. But she wanted it to be imprinted in her mind until she died, hopefully that not being when she felt him drive into her for the very first time.

"Not today."

"When."

"Soon."

"How soon."

"It's your call."

Jim was left hanging like a man divorced from his brain and mouth.

Kitty could have written a letter to her mother by the time he reconnected and asked, "Where?"

"At the place of unfinished business."

He paled and said the alley and she nodded.

"That is insane. If caught having a full-on bonk we could go to jail and our careers ruined."

"Despite Sir Max's best efforts, aided and abetted by Lord Fitzroy, this is not yet a police state."

Jim smiled at that barb. "Why?"

"One could ask that about anything."

He replied staunchly what she'd just said was not about anything. It was about something momentous."

"Aw, you are so cute. I really should give it to you now."

Jim looked around the crowded pavilion, with a line of people waiting for tables to be vacated. The alley would actually be more acceptable than in the pavilion and in the alley no one would be put off his or her food.

He did his best to face her with a grin. "All right, the alley."

"Good."

Later, running through in his mind that little outing in the park, Jim thought his stupid surrender to her idiotic demand was almost made worth it by her glorious smile. She was the one. He'd never met a woman who could handle him like she did. Unlike most women she'd never try to curb his freedom principally because he reckoned she'd not like it if he didn't come back to her but she was so confident about herself she'd know he'd made his decision and she'd get on with her life. Knowing she could cope with the final goodbye, or even in the absence of the breaking of the linkage without a goodbye, she knew she didn't have to bother about him being home at the time she wanted to serve of meal or watch TV with him or bonk because she felt like it. She would allow him to work 'his ridiculous hours' at his beloved newspaper with or without her consent and she'd not try to impose her will on him or expect him to alter to suit her.

But he also knew she'd expect him to keep her in mind and to be somewhat accommodating simply because she knew he would know when and where she wanted him to be providing it suited him. Ah yes, with her it was all about him and that made her the perfect woman whereas she couldn't care a hoot whether or not he was perfect but she did want him around as she did have the ultimate desire to attach to someone. How did he know that? Because he'd studied her, thought about her and he'd never been on such clear wavelength with any other person as he was with Kitty. Yes, it was about wavelength. He wouldn't expect anyone else to understand how she could allow him to be so selfish and yet want to be with him. Actually it wasn't necessary to have other people understand. It wasn't about other people.