Her name is Char. She was -- is -- my daughter's best friend. She, Julie, is 18, Char is 19 and has an impressive physique -- she's just short of six feet tall with wide shoulders, B-cup boobs and bulging biceps from regular gym workouts, all topped off with short-cut black hair, high cheekbones tapering down to a small mouth and a dimpled chin. Her eyes are so dark I'd almost call them black, quite a contrast to her almost ghostly pale skin. She has quite a deep voice too, and on first meeting her you might take her for a boy; I can't deny it had occurred to me that if I did see a man who looked like her I'd probably quite fancy him.
I'm Janice by the way, 44 years old, and distinctly average -- average height, average build, average looks if I'm being honest, and I always wear glasses; my best feature is my red-blonde hair which I wear down to my shoulders. I work as a bank clerk, I live in a suburb on the outskirts of South London, and I've always thought I was totally straight. Not that I had anything against gay people, I just preferred not to talk to or spend any time with them, and aI was a bit fed up of the media fascination with them. Julie's father walked out on me years ago, and I've long given up on finding another man -- it must be three years since my last, short and unsatisfactory, date.
It was a Saturday morning and Julie was out, I thought with Char. I was just about to go out to buy a paper when the doorbell rang. I walked barefoot into the hall and through the frosted glass I would see a dark figure; before I opened the door I realised it was Char and my immediate thought was that something might have happened to Julie. Despite that, as I opened the door I said "Julie's not here."
Char was dressed from head to toe in black, jacket, T-shirt, jeans and trainers, emphasising the paleness of her skin. To my surprise Char pushed her way past me, into my entrance hall, and said "I know. It's not her I want."
I was rather perplexed, as Char and I hadn't talked to each other much on the few occasions whe was in the house with Julie. I was also annoyed at her pushing her way in and snapped, "Well what do you want?"
She turned to face me, and something about the look on her face sent a shiver down my spine. She looked me up and down then said, "You." Before I'd really registered that Char pushed me rather roughly against the wall, pressed against me, forcibly tilted my face up to her and glued her lips to mine. I gasped in astonishment, which gave her the opportunity to thrust her long tongue into my mouth.