"Planet Earth to Jo!"
The half-sung words repeated themselves in Jo's deep chasm of thought. Sheepishly, she tried to pretend she'd been looking at the sudden rainy squall outside the large window. But when she glanced at Becky, she knew she'd been caught at it again. The bemused look on her friend's shaking head told her she had obviously been trying to get her attention for a while.
"Sorry Becky," she gushed across the cafe table.
"I spend just two extra minutes checking today's specials and you're off into that other world of yours," Becky gently chided her. Leaning forward, she lowered her voice. "You know, you have the most amazing expressions whenever you're off with the fairies. What on earth do you daydream about?"
That was the second time Becky had asked that lately. A blushing Jo just bashfully smiled this time around too, warning herself to stay in the real world for the rest of their lunch. Even in a much more private place after a few too many drinks, she doubted she would have the nerve to tell Becky details of the salacious subject matter, especially of her most recent fantasies. But her increasing tendency to zone out and create them was worrying her. Jo really wanted to talk to someone and find out if a sudden rush of sexy daydreams was common. She would have valued Becky's opinion as a friend, especially since she too was twenty six and married though unlike Jo, she already had a child.
The fantasies always took the form of her being slowly seduced, persuaded or even partially forced by an individual or group into letting her body be used to gratify their unusual or excessive appetites. In them she cast friends, workmates and acquaintances as well as complete strangers she'd come across. And occasionally, even females though she hadn't ever even so much as kissed a girl in her life. They were always scenes never likely to occur in real life, and Thomas would be appalled to learn about them. She rationalised them by saying they were only thoughts, not deeds, and were at times useful when she relived them during sex with Thomas to make her side of their lovemaking much more exciting.
But she was worried that her relatively new friend might think her thoughts were deviant or downright shameful. While Jo still thought they were merely harmless ideas she knew others might judge her on them so they were probably better kept to herself at this stage. Why they emerged she didn't know. Perhaps her mind just craved an escape from an otherwise very safe and predictable life, though it was everything an independent young woman could want. She and Thomas were buying their own house. Finances were good. The eight months in this new job had been fantastic. And she loved the little things in her life, like these regular Friday lunches being entertained by Becky's quirky humour.
Her one minor problem was Thomas, she suspected. He was safe and solid, though not very affectionate. After four years, their lovemaking was still okay though she wished there was more oomph and less routine in it. And at thirty two though, he was still inclined to race off to drink with his single mates, often of a Friday night to some pub or club, leaving her alone at home. Just last night, he had decided to arrange to go fishing with Al very early Saturday morning rather than agree to come out with her tonight, his excuse this time being that her function sounded a bit girly.
"Aha! That's Miranda now," came Becky's quiet announcement. Jo scanned the many dark-coated forms braving the unexpected squally rain gusts outside, trying to guess which person was making for them.
"Look, I'm really sorry for this interruption to our lunch," Becky added, leaning across and draping an apologetic hand over Jo's. "Miranda's been meaning to drop over some tickets to a show she's appearing in soon, and I need to give her the details about where Wendy's big night out is tonight. I enjoy just the pair of us having these Friday lunchtimes together and I normally wouldn't interrupt one. I'm sure as soon as I give her the directions she'll head straight off."
Looking out the window, Jo wasn't upset in the least and lazily shrugged her shoulders as a sign. She still hadn't correctly predicted the mystery girl when a hand from Becky shot out.
"That's her there, at those traffic lights," Becky offered. "You can tell her from miles away when rain threatens by the ghastly umbrella she has. There are times, honestly, when I've said we can only stay friends if she promises to get rid of it."
Jo knew a little of Miranda's background. She had left the law firm just before Jo had joined, to take up acting studies. Right now though, all Jo knew of what Miranda looked like was the little she could see hidden under the hood of a full-length black coat impatiently waiting for the lights to change. She had to agree that the decrepit orange, green and white striped umbrella above her did stand out amongst the staid sea of black ones behind it.
Jo was hungry. Originally, she had thought she'd just have the Caesar salad. Mid-order, she decided to add some warmed chicken to it. Wendy's drinks tonight were at 7 sharp at the hotel and then they were supposedly going on to some undetermined nightclub. She wasn't a fan of most pubs' meals, and there probably wouldn't be enough time to both eat and change at home before driving straight back into the city.
She watched the newcomer's progress until the girl stopped before the café door and threw back her hood. Instantly she was taken by the extraordinarily beautiful pale face, her long auburn tresses billowing around and across it. Lodging the umbrella in the overflowing stand just inside the door, the girl bent and waved through the window at Becky then came in.
"Hi Becky," the cheery voice animatedly greeted her friend. The girl leaned down to kiss Becky's offered cheek as she passed an envelope over, then her light blue eyes looked straight across the table and streamed into Jo's.
"Miranda, this is the Jo I keep referring to," Jo heard as she shook the cool thin hand offered. It seemed to linger in her palm as Becky continued.
"The guys at work keep raving to me that Jo here's our most beautiful staff member, way above the rest of us who are just very, very pretty," an embarrassed Jo heard Becky go on. She felt like cringing and felt herself begin to blush as her friend continued "They keep asking me why someone with a model's looks would take a pay cut to work her butt off as an associate lawyer."
Jo noticed an odd look flash over the youngish face still looking into hers: the sort of look that comes over a person utterly absorbed by something. Nervously, she hoped to herself there was no spinach between her teeth or something similar.
"It's taken ages but Jo's finally agreed to come out with all us girls and guys tonight," Becky went on. "Well, we've persuaded her to go as far as coming to the hotel for drinks anyway. We now have to work on her there and convince her to rock on afterwards at a nightclub. She's saying she probably won't because the only nightclub dress she still has in her wardrobe is a bit daring and men might think she's wearing it to lure them to ask her for a dance."
The sudden change to friendly sarcasm in Becky's tone took Jo by surprise. "God, Jo, I've just realised! You could be right! And they'll all no doubt start groping you in full view of the public on the dance floor as soon as they get you out there!" A smirking Jo was relieved to see Miranda smile too. She too obviously enjoyed Becky's quirky sense of humour.
Jo lowered her head to the menu to hide her sudden guilt. She couldn't of course explain that being helplessly groped by a group of men while in that particular dress was often a theme of her fantasies with her in an elevator, standing on a train or sitting at a cinema. She took Becky's point though. She was making too big a deal about the dress. What the heck! She would wear it tonight rather than try to buy a new one. If she pinned up the neckline it should be all right. She just wouldn't try dancing about too energetically in it, that's all.
"So, is everyone else I know going?" Miranda asked, finally turning her face back to Becky. Until her words, Jo hadn't realised just how much Becky had been dominating the conversation. Compared to Becky's sardonic voice, the girl's was soft, vivacious and cheery.
"Everyone except for me suddenly, I'm afraid, with my little fellow falling sick," Becky replied "Me, the organiser, the very person who needs a night out the most! I'm picking Barry up from pre-school in half an hour and taking him straight home to play nurse. Wendy will have to have her girl's night out without me, which will be devastating for her. She'll no doubt call the whole damn wedding off when she hears that I won't be there."
Jo exchanged a warm glance with Miranda as the duo quietly chuckled.
"If you're free for the next few minutes Miranda, why not join us for lunch?" came Jo's offer. The squall outside was easing up but had not stopped entirely yet. To reinforce the invitation, Jo pulled out the chair next to her.
"Just a coffee, then," the girl smiled her thanks. Jo watched her emerge from the shapeless black coat and found herself staring at a beautifully proportioned body in a dark maroon suit. Hanging the coat over the back of the chair, Miranda slid in.
Over lunch, Jo learned that Miranda had been an old school classmate of Becky's, which made her about twenty five or six too, and had left the law firm last year to take up acting studies. She was hoping to start auditioning after her last examinations in two months.
When Miranda casually mentioned to Becky that she had recently split up with her latest flame, Jo thought to herself that this girl wouldn't stay single for very long. Men would admire everything about her and flock to her. She was perfect, so alive, stunning and personable.
"Anyway Miranda, you're here for some details," an unusually serious Becky began her instructions. "It starts in the bar at the Coachwood in River Street at 7, then proceeds to the secret nightclub Wendy's picked. You two want another coffee?" Becky began signalling a waiter, then suddenly flattened the beckoning palm across her forehead. "Oh God, sorry! My pulling out leaves you short of a ride with that bomb of a car off the road Miranda?"
