Penelope Josephson sat shivering on the bus which was to take her the three hundred miles from her home town to the city where she was to start work as a cadet accounts clerk- Officer she corrected herself- Accounts Officer and hopefully start on her journey in adult life.
It was the biggest thing she had ever done in her life and she was terrified. It wasn't just the 'going to be on her own' part of it (although that was something she tried hard not to think about) but rather the prospect of not having her mom in her life to guide her.
Her mother was her rock. She always had guided her and as in many way Penelope's mom was an older version of Penelope with the same timidity and shyness coupled with that dogged determination her advice was always easy for Penelope to take tempered as it was by her mother's keen understanding of what Penelope could deal with and what she couldn't- especially what she couldn't.
It had been her idea and when she told Penelope the poor girl had fled to her bedroom to lie on her bed curled up in a ball with her head under her pillows. Gradually she had brought Penelope round to the point that she finally agreed it was a good idea for her to go- even if she really actually um didn't want to go at all.
However there she was on the Greyhound, her mother and sister watching until the bus moved off ...then they were gone. As soon as they were out of sight she missed them. She missed them so much and felt miserable. Her mouth drooped and a tear formed in the corner of one eye. Soon after a matching one tear formed in the corner of the other eye. She wiped her eyes with the back of her hand and turned her face to the window with a tissue so she wouldn't sniff sand let anyone know how upset she was.
The thing was that she knew she had to do it. Her mom couldn't support them all and there wasn't any work in her town. Not real work. So she had to go to this big city where she had no friends and somehow make a life then maybe she could put some money aside to send back to help her mom out. That was a nice thought and it cheered her up. In any case something good might happen. Her mom had told her something good was 'bound to happen' and that 'it always did.'
"Bound to 'was more than Pamela dared hoped for; she settled for 'might.'
Now she felt, well the word is virtuous; she also started to feel drowsy. The bus swept along with the gentle repetitive movements and before long she had fallen fast asleep.
The bus stopped at other towns along the way and at the second of these Wilma Fitzroy was waiting. A woman of thirty Wilma had been visiting her family and was now going back to her real home, to her life, in the City.
No she wasn't. She was going back to her apartment in which no one waited. After the break up with Raylene she had felt so down and on a whim had gone back expecting a cuddle and some words of encouragement from her mother and one or two from her dad.. Then it would be OK. She could get back on the horse so to speak and carry on but it hadn't worked out that way. She revealed that she was a lesbian and as she talked their expressions changed.
They had looked at her with narrow eyes as she told them. Her father had got up from his chair, turned his back on her and slammed the door on his way out. Her mother lectured her on 'a woman's responsibilities' and the 'selfishness of what she was doing' adding a mention of the perverted life she had chosen.
Then she too had walked out leaving a shell shocked Wilma alone at the table.
She has screamed at them through the walls hating them for what they had done to her but still wanting them to rush back in and hug her, to tell her it was fine she was still their daughter and they loved her no matter what.
But they didn't.
She spent the longest night of her life in her old bed and had rung for a cab hours before the bus would be there just to get out of the place.
For all that strangely the visit hadn't been a complete waste of time. Their utter rejection of her choices and also of her had forced her to decide how committed she was to going ahead. Quite capable of absolute bloody mindedness herself she was now implacably convinced that she was right; that being a lesbian might not be for every girl but it bloody well was for her.
She tried to read to fill in the time while she waited by reading but she couldn't. More than anything what she understood from her night of hell was that she was alone. Not that she didn't have friends but they weren't significant others. Her heart didn't skip a beat when she thought of them; they were friends. Friends who had a significant other and she was outside of those relationship.
What made it worse was that her rocks, her parents, were not in her corner so if it got bad, as it had been, she couldn't go to them. It was terrifying, even at her age to know that.
She had put the book down, finally, and closed her eyes thinking of what she wanted- or rather who she wanted.
Someone younger would be best because she was a Bossy Britches. That brought a smile. Yes she was the organizer so in this ideal relationship her partner would be younger and placid.
That didn't sound right. "Partner" it was such a prim word; it reminded her of the equally prim PC 'siblings'. "The girl I adore" that sounded better. "My better half" or "my lover" came to mind as well.
In the end she decided on "she". She revised the 'placid' as well. In fact she discarded it deciding instead that she wanted someone to love and regardless of if she was a fiery little thing or a gangly tall girl or a whatever what mattered was the chemistry.
"Bossy Britches," she muttered under her breath and she felt another smile.
The bus was due in a few minutes and suddenly she had to go. She got the last cubicle and was walking back into the waiting room as the bus pulled up-perfect timing.
It meant a lot to her this coincidence of the bus arriving as she was back from the bathroom; she saw it as a sign that things were going to run her way and felt a surge of hope in her chest.
With her luggage stowed she climbed on board to find somewhere to sit. There were about half a dozen empty seats as far as she could see. She was looking to see whom she wanted to sit by and she saw her. A sleeping girl who had rested her elbow on the sill and leant against her arm pressed up against the window. Wilma sat next to her. The girl was so soundly asleep that she didn't even seem to notice her sitting down. Wilma was very aware of her though; she had butterflies in her tummy and her throat was dry.
When she had sat down she had looked around exchanging smiles with her fellow travelers before bringing out her book and propping it open on her lap to begin her reading. A little while after the bus had got underway again Wilma turned towards the window pretending to be fascinated by the view. The fear was there again. God she hated that. Why couldn't she just look at this girl and not have to worry about what people might think?
She wished she was a lot braver than she felt at that moment and it was with a churning tummy that she sneaked a good look at her, the girl with whom she was besotted. She was pretty in a girl next door way. Slim with mousy brown hair in a pony tail, just a coat of school girl cheap pink lipstick and a little eye shadow. Every fiber of Wilma's body tingled as she studied the face. Wilma knew it- she was the one.
She wanted so much for her to like her and as the girl slept beside her Wilma went all out to make herself beautiful. No, she was beautiful already- she knew that- she wanted to be spectacular. She wanted this Anne or Helen or Ashley or what ever her name was to see her and fall for her.
That was so pathetic, she decided. She hoped the girl would like her and that that it would go from there. Only she didn't; she wanted so much more; she wanted sparks, passion, with candlelight dinners and dancing, just the two of them in their own little world. Quick phone calls snatched through the day and that tingling as she waits for the next call and to feel the tears in her eyes as this girl who is her life says those words: 'I love you.'
She worked methodically keeping her pounding heart under control and limiting herself to one furtive glance only after she had finished a part of her make up. Each time she glanced she hoped as hard as she could that she would stay asleep until she had finished.
Her luck held again with a stirring next to her as she had just finished getting her hair just so when Penelope did wake up. .
She had dozed thinking of her life to be. Wondering about her new room at the boarding house, what everyone would be like at work and how quickly she would pick things up...if she would make any friends.
Sleep, the deep sleep she was in when Wilma had sat next to her came with her favorite dream. It stemmed from an incident on a school camp when she had grazed her leg and Miss Manuel had wiped her leg clean then put a big plaster over the graze. There had been nothing sexual in it and Miss Manuel wouldn't have thought any more about it but it became, for Penelope, the door to a world of sexual fantasy, lesbian fantasy which she enjoyed very much. In her dream she was always hurt in some way and a beautiful older lady would tend for her. Naturally the ministrations would grow to a passionate embrace ending in the lady making love to her usually with a strap on.
Penelope woke but kept her eyes shut just a little longer; she smelt perfume. Turning she saw Wilma and was stunned, not only at her beauty but at how much she was like the ladies in her dreams, in fact she could quit easily have stepped out from one. However as in real life Penelope was painfully shy her look was timid and inquiring.
