Dear Jane,
I got your letter - it was wonderful! I'm so happy that you liked my story about me and Monika, and I loved yours. Honestly, it got me more excited than anything I've read for ages, and I'm looking forward to hearing more about you and Penny some other time. Talk about a small world. You mentioned that you and Penny first met at the bus stop after you'd been to Camden Market. Well, that's exactly where my second affair with a woman started; what a coincidence! I want to tell you how it happened.
It was after I came back from my trip to Europe. I was living in London, doing nothing in particular while I thought about what I was going to do next. One of the regular things in my life was Camden Market on a Saturday. I loved going there, mostly just to watch all the weird and wonderful-looking people coming and going.
Well, one Saturday I went there and decided to get some earrings. My sister was going to have a birthday but I thought I might get some for myself as well. I spent more or less the whole morning going round various stalls looking at things and being generally indecisive and hopeless. There was one that had some I really liked but couldn't quite make up my mind about and I must have gone back there about five times. In the end it got so that the woman was laughing and rolling her eyes each time I appeared. But the final time I went there I'd made up my mind to get them. There was no price on the ones I'd chosen so I asked her how much they were.
"They should be ten quid," she said, "but if you'll go to a party with me tonight and wear them there you can have them for free."
Talk about directness! I thought about telling her not to be so cheeky but then when I looked at her I had second thoughts. I mean, if you think you can get away with it then why not? And this woman was really nice-looking; close-cropped hair dyed jet black, a face a bit like an inverted triangle with a wide forehead, high cheekbones, and a chin that was pointed without being sharp. Lots of freckles. Generous lips that looked as if they'd be good to kiss. From what I could see with my X-ray eyes through the baggy leather jacket and jeans she was wearing, a good figure too, on the slim side but then so was Monika. I suppose I must like them that way. What clinched it, though, was her eyes. They were big and blue and clear and looked full of laughter. I've always thought you can tell a lot about a person by their eyes and this woman had eyes I thought I could trust. So I decided that maybe I'd let her get away with it.
"What kind of party?" I asked.
"A good one, I hope. People. Food. Music. Dancing. Fun. Maybe even a little bit wild. How do we know until we've been there?"
"And where is it? When?"
"Tonight. In Islington. I can take you there if you like. I've got a car. Of sorts."
"And if I go to this party with you, where will we meet?"
"Where do you live?"
"Muswell Hill."
"Small world, eh? Me too. I can call round for you and pick you up. Real door-to-door service."
So I told her where I lived and we agreed on a time. I asked whether the people who were throwing the party were fussy about what their guests wore.
"No, it's dead liberal. Wear what you like. Though if you don't mind me saying so I'd be delighted to see you in something drop-dead gorgeous and as minimal as fuck."
More directness. I was half-tempted to tell her to forget the idea, until I saw the smile that accompanied the remark. It was the sort of thing you normally see whoever's playing James Bond come out with whenever he drops one of his bons mots, but with her it was somehow done with a broad brush-stroke of irony and fun right through it. Suddenly, I got the feeling I could like this woman a lot. Obviously, she'd already reached the same conclusion about me. Well, I'd visited her stall five times, hadn't I? It pays to shop around...
"OK, I'll come," I said.
"Great," she replied, with a smile of real warmth this time. "I'm Suzy, by the way."
"Jessica," I answered.
"Jessica. So, Jessica, tonight?"
"Tonight."
"Don't forget your earrings, sweetheart."
She passed them to me in a small paper envelope. I put them into my bag, flashed her what I hoped was a coquettish smile, blew her a little kiss, turned on my heel and walked off into the crowd, shaking my head in astonishment at what I'd just agreed to do. Talk about an easy pickup!
Finding something 'drop-dead gorgeous and as minimal as fuck' in my far-from-massive wardrobe wasn't easy. I experimented with various options but had to admit that all of them were somehow too weedy and insipid for the sort of evening I hoped I was going to have with this Suzy, who didn't seem the sort of person to go for anything too subtle. So in the end I emboldened myself with a strong drink and went for the Little Black Number, a few square inches of velvet I'd bought in a moment of madness and very seldom had the courage to wear in any even semipublic situation. The top half was actually pretty respectable, even chaste, well, as far as anything that fits like a second skin can be respectable and chaste, with long sleeves and a neckline that a priest wouldn't feel ashamed of, but from the waist down it flared out gently and then came to an abrupt halt about half an inch below my crotch. Maximum. Encouraged by finding out I was still able to get into it, I went for a plain but tiny black bra and panties to go underneath it, black tights (very sheer, very opaque, and very me - my legs look great in the right kind of black tights and, believe me, these were), and a pair of clumpy shoes with straps. No make-up, no jewelry except the new earrings, and just a dab of perfume. Looking in the mirror, I was one happy girl. I had no idea what effect it was going to have on Suzy, but I certainly turned myself on.