Chapter 22 -- The End
As they all turned to leave the dining room Myrtle came up to Kathleen and quietly told her that the paintings and the letters were put on hold by Australian Customs and will be sent to her here, as soon as Cynthia can arrange a courier.
Kathleen looked at her in surprise and in delight. "That was quick." She told her. Myrtle pulled a business card from her purse, stating that she worked for the Australian Customs Services as their Director of Imports and Exports, she smiled at Kathy and told her "It's just a fancy title for the 'boss'." She let the business card go as her finger slid along Kathleen's up turned wrist, she lent in and told her "I'll be a fully paid up member of the club, by the way."
She took it all in and shook her head. Cynthia, she thought, you do have interesting friends. Kathleen took the business card and put it in her side pocket in the navy blue slacks she was wearing as Michelle sidled up to her and tugged on her arm, "Mistress, she is interesting don't you think?"
"Yes I do think that mon doux amour." [my sweet love] Kathleen looked down into Michelle's eyes with a warmth that would have melted the biggest of icebergs. "What has Cynthia been hiding all these years I wonder?" Kathleen asked quietly. Michelle shrugged her shoulders, "Why does it matter, isn't it more important what is happening now, today, not yesterday. Yesterday is gone, forgiven, today is now all warm and nice and new, then tomorrow," She said pointing over to Mia and Emily, "Ahhhh tomorrow, wedding bells and who knows."
"Where do you get all this wisdom from you little wise old woman you?" Kathleen asked. Michelle looked up, "From you my Mistress, from you." Then brought her hand up to her lips and kissed her Mistress's hand.
The group were slowly walking down the grand staircase to the ground floor, where the cleaning crew were completing the final vacuuming of carpet in the main reading room of the library, as well the book shelves were now full.
The books on those walls were of the classics; the poetry of Sappho to Patricia Highsmith the Price of Salt. The Encyclopaedia of Sex and The History of Lesbianism, among other works involving the arts, writing, plus the works of Virginia Woolf and the general history of women in the world. Around the room there were works of art depicting women in various poses all engaged in some form of Sappho encounters. Also seen were Sculptures and wood carvings from well-known female artists. A section of the room dedicated to past sporting heroes who have led the way forward at much personal cost.
To look at the room you could of very easily have mistaken it as an 18th century Edwardian stately home in England and you would not have been far wrong. The front windows looked out onto Divitt Street, but were high enough off of the ground so that any passer-by could not see into the building, but Emily had carefully selected curtains that obscured any nosey person but still let light and the sunshine in. The room contained a small bar room complete with two person tables, comfortable arm chairs and access to a private rear entrance, away from prying eyes for those who wanted to maintain their anonymity.
The main entrance was small but secure. The front door opened into a landing area, where the concierge maintained her vigilance on those who come in and those who left. Admission was by membership only, you keyed in your membership number and the front door unlocked. A gold class member could have a guest with her, females only though. All was strictly enforced.
Kathleen stood at the foot of the stairs. She took a moment and looked at the front doors, gazed at the small office for the concierge, and then looked back up the stairs to the beautiful lit wall that said The OWLS Club Dining Room, or as the French would say La salle à manger OWLS Club. She felt a lump in her throat. Michelle stood next to her, looking at the same locations, took hold of her Mistress's hand, kissed it once more and said. "Tu as tout à fait le droit de me sentir fier de mon amour." [You have every right to feel proud my love.]
A tear gathered in her eye, she squeezed her young French maiden's hand, kissed her head and said "Merci." [thank you] "But you see this was all born out of anger, fear and the deception of an old Italian man, who pretended to be something he wasn't. He pushed me into this." She then pointed to Mia and Emily, "and those two beautiful creatures, they saw an old building and had a vision of what could be, they saw this." while she waved her arm around.
Michelle hugged her, tightly, lovingly. "Oui madam, but you gave them the authority to bring it to life. I love that about you. You are so strong and so so sexy when you start giving orders to everyone."
Kathleen looked down at her once again, kissed her cheek and walked down into the Mary Ambrose Room. Michelle was walking slowly behind her and tapped her on the shoulder. Looking into her eyes albeit from two steps higher, "Mistress, should we not have some champagne to toast the happy couple no?"
"Yes we should, I will ring Ash at Korked and see if they will open up for me. Then you will go and collect the Champagne ok."
"Yes Mistress, but I could go home and get some from the fridge; I think that your Ash does not like me so much." She answered her Mistress.
Kathleen smiled at her, "I think Ashley likes you, but go on shoot off home if you must, but don't be too long and don't speed or drive like a mad Frenchman."
"You mean like you my Mistress?" she said with a smile and then she poked her tongue out not cheekily but very seductively.
"Go before I change my mind and make you to go next door." Kathleen told her.
Michelle waggled her tush at her Mistress as she ran out of the building to get the Champagne. Knowing full well she would most likely go across her Mistress's knee for that indiscretion later that night, with luck.
