As ever, any resemblance to people living or dead is purely co-incidental.
Constructive criticism is gratefully received.
Recap
In "The Girl With Pink Hair: Pt 2" we followed Elena Kowalski and Jessica Calamar over a period of three days as they explored their new relationship, one of an ordinary Sapiens entangled (Jess' description) with a maiden of The Folk.
Elena learned more about the hidden world of the Folk. On one occasion Jess and Elena had an eerie and unsettling experience when making love. This worries Jess, although she keeps this concern from her new girlfriend.
Amongst the other matters that serve to occupy new lovers, Elena was introduced to Sylvie and Shawna, Jess' other housemates, and wowed them with her cooking. Jess - being a spy - met her handler, and all may not be well in the world of covert operations.
On the last day, Jess partnered Elena to a ball at the college where they met Merry, Alison and Sanjay (AKA The Unholy Trinity), who are mightily impressed with Elena's new girlfriend. The episode finishes with Jess inviting Elena to move in with her, and Elena accepts.
Coming to terms
July
The Loft
When Elena exited the house in Exmoor Place for what was likely to be the last time, she turned and looked back at the ever open front door. The house was quiet. Anyone at work had already left and everyone else wouldn't surface until lunchtime - if then.
Her eyes drifted from the cracks in the window frames to the peeling paint of the front door. In the hallway, threadbare carpet and scuffed skirting boards, dents in the plaster and a solitary lightbulb hanging from the ceiling. It was a considerable list of negatives.
Elena was 28 years old and had spent a considerable chunk of her adult life in this place. Her mother had been horrified on the single occasion she'd come by to drop off some clothes.
'Elena, darling, it's a slum!'
Another member of the set of things for Alice Kowalski to disapprove of. A set only exceeded by U. Elena's lips curved.
Back when she was a teenager, Elena had found an old paperback book dating from the 1940s. She'd been fascinated with the yellowing pages and the crackling glue, the slow surrender to entropy.
The details of the archaic plot were long forgotten apart from one scene. A jock snarls at the hapless protagonist,
'If you're so smart, why ain't you rich?'
which wasn't so different from her mother muttering under her breath that
'looks will get you further than brains.'
The words from the old book had come back to her repeatedly as she slogged her way through University. According to her c.v. she was one of the cleverest people alive, but that counted for precious little in academia, let alone the grand scheme of things. Her student debt was something she tried not to think about.
She recalled another near apocalyptic row, her father's pursed lips and downcast eyes as the two women of the family exchanged verbal blows over the kitchen table. He knew better than to intervene.
'You're throwing away your God given advantage so that you can learn about things that no-one else will understand or care about!'
'I'm not going to be some air-head clothes horse, Mother!'
'You would be famous, rich! Have your pick of men!'
'And if I don't want any of that?'
Her mother pounded the table in her frustration, unable to comprehend Elena's motives. Her daughter glared back, just about biting down on the words that her mother's anger was driven more by envy than by care for her daughter. And if that was the case then what did it say about her marriage?
Elena sighed deeply. It was a circle that wasn't going to be squared anytime soon. However, if she was going to live with Jess then she was going to have to contribute. She hefted the two suitcases and trudged the short distance to Somerset Street.
Letting herself in with Jess' keys, she stood for a moment in the big hallway, absorbing the space and the quietude. All was seamless integration from the dark red carpet to the muted white-with-a-touch-of-cream paint on the woodwork, the wrought iron balustrade and the plaster mouldings to the light fittings and cornices. She could imagine making a life here with her eldritch companion and her two quirky friends.
Up in the loft, she stowed her few possessions in a couple of drawers and hung some clothes on a rail in a wardrobe, then fell on the sofa and looked up at the clouds through the windows in the ceiling. She felt
between
, at the focus of the light cone, the outcome of all possible pasts and the genesis of all possible futures.
When she returned to herself sometime later, her thoughts turned to more immediate matters. Even though the damn thesis wasn't complete, and her
viva
was yet to come, it was time to get a job.
'Obviously'
, Professor Snape intoned in her head, but what kind of job? One that didn't involve too much thinking. After the last few years, Elena felt all thinked out.
Trawling the web before lunch, she came across a position at the hippy grocery. Her lips quirked as she read the job description, it was so right on it was more a manifesto. She tapped her pen against her front teeth and then decided to drop by the workers' collective.
She looked up again at the sky through the ceiling windows and consulted her phone, discovering that while it wasn't going to get that warm outside, at least it wasn't likely to rain. She dithered over telling Jess what she was doing but decided against. Grabbing a shawl to wrap around her shoulders, she exited the loft, locking the door behind her.
***
Green By Nature
The shop was instantly recognisable and had been a feature of the neighbourhood for years. Boxes of locally grown vegetables sat on the pavement in front of the green and yellow façade. Inside, the wooden shelves were lined with bags of organic pulses and nuts and dried fruit. A small fridge contained vegan substitutes for dairy.
At the till by the entrance loitered a young woman with an awful lot of ink on her exposed skin and a prodigious quantity of metal adorning her face. She looked Elena up and down and decided on the basis of the shawl alone to file her as 'middle class folky'.
Elena smiled at her and asked about the job, whereupon she looked at Elena with poorly concealed incredulity and then scuttled off to the back of the shop. Elena looked at the abandoned till and sighed. It was a wonder they ever made any money, not just because it was against their anarcho-syndicalist principles.
Miss Piercings and Tattoos returned with an older man, perhaps in his late thirties or early forties, with light brown hair thinning on top. He had an impressive number of freckles accenting his blue eyes and their accompanying laugh lines.
"Mike," he said, extending his hand. Elena took it, it was warm and slightly rough with calluses.
"Elena," she replied, making sure the handshake was properly firm.
His lips quirked. "I like a lady with a good grip. Stacy tells me you're here about the job. Forgive me but don't I recognise you?"
Elena shrugged. "I've been a few times. Mainly for herbs and spices and occasionally a few other things."
He nodded and looked down again. "Do you know how to get your hands dirty?"
"Yes," she said confidently. "I've worked holiday jobs from time to time. Fruit picking and stuff."
"Mm," he said non-committally, putting his hands on his hips. "How long would you be planning to be around?"
