The Ladies Who Lunch Pt 03 Barbara Halloran Pt 01

The Barbara Halloran Story Pt 1

Another week has gone by, and it's Barbara Halloran's turn to host the after-dinner coffee gathering. 52-yearold Barbara, a teacher and mother of four, had only ever known one man - her husband of thirty years. Her return to college, for higher qualifications, also gave her a new perspective on life and relationships.

This is her story:

As you all know, I returned to teaching recently, after I went back to school to enhance my qualifications. I already had a first degree in Economics and a postgraduate teaching diploma but wanted to take a postgraduate course in my chosen subject of specialisation.

So, I enrolled in the part-time programme for a Master's in European Economic History, at the LSE. A lot of the coursework was online, but I'd travel up to London once a week for tutorials and the occasional lecture.

This was a lucky co-incidence, in that I ran into Alex, a former student of mine. Alex was in the class that I was teaching, fifteen years earlier.

Alex Hopkins or, Dr Hopkins, as he was now called, was a star pupil of mine. He went on to graduate in Economics from Oxford, and after getting his PhD, went on to lecture, and at thirty-five, was in line for greater things.

I was in his tutorial group at the LSE, as it happened, and he was delighted to see me again after so many years. For my part I was delighted to make contact with him, and I was of course, very gratified that he'd had such a successful academic career.

Alex was easily one of the best students I ever taught and, although we kept in touch during his early under-graduate years, we later lost contact so, I was thrilled to renew our acquaintance, as I'd always had a soft spot for him. I always looked forward to my college attendance days and the tutorial sessions with Alex.

Alex is a good-looking young man and, needless to say, all the female students were besotted with him. The talk amongst the girls in the cafeteria often centred on gossip about him, and what they'd like to do to him if they ever got him into bed!

Time seemed to fly, and I was working hard to meet the rigorous course requirements for continuous reading and submission of dissertations, and it was soon the end of the first academic year of my two-year course.

My year-end dissertation scored very highly, and Alex was more thrilled about my achievement than I was.

"Outstanding, Mrs Halloran,"

he enthused.

"If you were one of my undergraduates, you'd be in line for first-class honours!"

To celebrate my achievement, he insisted on treating me to dinner at a restaurant of my choice.

The invitation also extended to my husband, of course, and Alex was also bringing his fiancée.

I wasn't at all familiar with the restaurant scene in London, so I left it up to him to choose. I also prevailed on him to book a double room for me and Ted, not too far from the restaurant, at a hotel that catered for visitors on a limited budget, as we would be paying for it out of our own pocket.

So, all the arrangements were made for the Friday of the following week. Alex had booked the dinner at an ethnic restaurant off the Brompton Road in Kensington and the hotel booking was at one of the legion of unstarred, economy hotels, a short taxi-ride from the restaurant.

I was looking forward to the dinner, as well as to meeting Alex's fiancée, Mai.

He'd shown me a photo of her, a pretty Eurasian girl, and a very gifted musician by all accounts. Mai was half-Vietnamese, and I was certain she would be a charming and very interesting dinner companion.

But, alas, the plans soon started to go awry. First off, Ted's father was taken ill and rushed to hospital. The old man lives in Chester, so Ted had to go off to see to that, which meant that the Friday dinner date was out of the question for him.

Ted told me that if I wanted to go, it was alright with him. Apparently, he'd spoken with his sister who was in Chester, and she'd told him it wasn't anything serious so, there was no need for him to go down but, he insisted on going down to see the old man and saw no reason why I should miss out on the well-deserved dinner.

I rang Alex to tell him the bad news, to be told that that Mai was also going to be absent. She had been notified at short notice, to stand in as solo violin for some symphony orchestra that was performing in Birmingham, that Friday.

Mai was part of a string ensemble but occasionally took part as a locum with the orchestra when called upon. Although not officially a member of the orchestra, she would go along as a personal favour to the concertmaster - he's the number two, after the conductor.

So, under the circumstances, I told Alex that it was hardly worthwhile going through with the dinner and apologised for all the trouble he'd gone through to arrange everything.

I suggested, perhaps we could postpone to a later date?

"Not to worry",

he says,

"I have another way to make it up to you".

He said there was a conference on the Friday of the following week, being held at Sussex University and was I interested in going? It was a 2-day conference and all the big names from the academic world would be there.

He was fortunate enough to have secured two places, as well as accommodation at

The Queen's Hotel

in Brighton, for a special discount price. He told me that Mai would also be going with him, not for the conference, but her ensemble were booked that weekend, for a concert in Brighton.

Of course, I jumped at the opportunity! I told him that I'd have to check with Ted, but in any event, I knew that Ted was playing in a golf tournament at the local club over the weekend. Therefore, my absence would absolve him of any guilt he may have had about making me a "golf widow" that weekend.

I rang Alex back and confirmed that it was "all go" at my end and asked if the sleeping accommodation at the hotel provided a double bed, even for a single occupancy. After thirty years of sleeping on a double bed, I'd gotten so used to it that I could never have a restful night's sleep on a single.

"Yes, Mrs Halloran, most probably, but I can check if that will be the case in your room. Why? Are you planning to do some horizontal gymnastics in bed?"

he jested.

"Well, you never know, my luck may change!"

I quipped, chuckling to myself.

There was silence at Alex's end. Then, he replied, in a subdued, murmured tone:

"

Well, in that case, we'll see what we can do."

With that, he quickly changed the subject and started to go over the upcoming events.

The conference started on the Friday, and attendees had to start registering at 8.00 am that day for a 10 o'clock start. Consequently, so far as our travel schedule was concerned, we needed to arrive at the hotel on Thursday evening so that we could make that time window for registration on Friday.

Whereas Alex had to get to the conference centre from London, I lived just, a 20-minute drive from Brighton, so I could easily be there in time. However, he would hear nothing of it and insisted that I join him and Mai at the hotel on Thursday evening.

So, I had Ted drive me down to Brighton and drop me off at the hotel. Of course, he insisted on being with me while I checked in, and to help me settle into the room. Alex hadn't arrived yet, and I suggested to Ted that he hang around, so that he could meet Alex and his fiancée, who seemed a delightful girl.

We ordered up some tea to the room and waited. We had just finished our teas when the house phone rang. It was twenty minutes after six, and it was Alex on the other end of the line. He had just checked in. His room was just down the corridor, and he was with Mai.

It so happened, that the concert she was to perform in was at the Brighton Dome, literally just down the road from the hotel. A happy coincidence, but which presented an immediate problem that I could help with. So, would I come to their room?

I told Ted, but he'd already surmised there was an issue for which my assistance was needed, so he said he was going to go home and leave me to it. I insisted that he go with me to at least meet Alex and his fiancée, just to say, 'Hi'. He didn't need to hang around if he didn't want to.

So, we strolled down to the room. Alex opened the door and led us inside. I introduced Ted and they shook hands then, Alex in turn, introduced Mai.

Mai sat on the tall bed, her feet barely touching the floor and a broad toothy smile on her pretty face.

I put out my hand out and greeted her:

"Hello, Mai, I'm Barbara,"

Mai leapt off the bed and, stretching up on the tip-toe, she flung her arms around my neck.

"Yes, I know, I'm so pleased to meet you at last, Barbara!"

she cried.

Now, I'm not tall, barely five-foot-five in my stockinged feet, as you can see, but my chin just cleared the top of Mai's head.

So, in deference I bowed so that she was able to kiss me twice, once on each side of my face, and not on the cheeks but on the corners of my mouth.

Ted, not overly fond of physical displays of emotion, stuttered,

"Nice to meet you, Mai",

and bid a quick farewell, perhaps fearing that he was next in line for Mai's affectionate gesture of greeting.

Ted was never a smoochy - koochy, touchy-feely sort of man.

I took to Mai straightaway. She was a sweet and spontaneous, honest spirit.

So, what was the problem that Alex had mentioned? Well, he was in a quandary.

He'd been summoned by a senior colleague, who was on the conference organising committee, for help on some last-minute matters. This meant, that Alex needed someone to accompany Mai to the concert hall that evening, because he didn't want her moving around in Brighton alone at night.

So he was wondering, if I didn't mind that is, to accompany her to the concert hall. Mai had complimentary tickets, which would get me into the auditorium for the concert.

My reaction was

, "Good heavens, did you have to ask? I'd love to!"

So, that was settled. I put his mind at rest that Mai was in good hands.

The concert was due to start at 8:30 pm so, I arranged for a taxi to pick us up in time to have us at the venue an hour before the start, which Mai's group needed for a warm-up, before the performance

From the moment we sat in the taxi, Mai held my hand, which she squeezed, smiling at me occasionally. I responded likewise. Admittedly, it was an odd way to carry on, especially between two strangers who'd met barely an hour before, but I conjectured that it was perhaps an oriental thing so, I just went along.

When we arrived at the theatre, Mai kissed me on the lips, uttered a

"Barbara, I'll see you in the foyer afterwards"

and sped off for the Stage entrance door.

I paid the cab and entered through the public entrance and made for the café-bar, where I ordered a G&T and sat down to wait until the Concert Hall doors opened. There was already quite a gathering of people, and the room was buzzing with conversation and laughter.

Above the hubbub I caught snippets of conversation, that I thought sounded like

"Mai Trang".

They were, in fact, talking about Mai. Trang was her mother's maiden name, which Mai had adopted as a stage name, as I was later informed by Alex.

As I sipped my gin, Mai's over-affectionate behaviour towards me, replayed in my mind. Under other circumstances, I am not sure how I would have reacted. I wasn't "grossed out" by it because, apart from Mai's childlike stature, her outward, ingenuous demeanour had endeared her to me, and made me feel like hugging her to keep her safe.

And, as with any child who's won your heart, you allow them a lot more leeway.

I had initially put it down to a cultural thing, but I rejected this in view of her oriental roots.

You would normally associate public displays of affection with Southern Europeans and Latin Americans, not the far eastern, Asian cultures that tend to be outwardly restrained and "

inscrutable"

.

And besides, she was born in this country, of a Vietnamese mother and English father, and had grown up in a leafy suburb in the Home Counties. So, you can imagine what her cultural influences would have been.

The dichotomy was that Mai was 30 years old, not 3. She was a full-grown woman, not a child, and also a very accomplished musician, by all accounts!

Anyway, the bell alerting the concert patrons to take their seats sounded and so, the occupants of the bar began streaming out towards the auditorium. I followed the crowd and found my seat, which gave me a good view of the stage.

The programme was a selection from Vivaldi's violin concertos and the performance was given by a sextet, comprising, lead violin, two second violins, viola, cello and harpsichord

The members of the sextet filed onto the stage and took their places. Mai was the last to enter.

Her sleek, jet-black hair in a bob and full-length, figure-hugging black dress and high heels, gave her an uncharacteristically cool and demure look.

The performance started with the Four Seasons suite, Vivaldi's best-known work, then extracts from some lesser-known concertos and finishing with the first movement of the Spring concerto, from the Four Seasons. The whole program ran for a little over ninety minutes, not including a short interval.

Mai was lead, or first violin, so she played all the solo parts of the conertos.

Now, I am not a classical music fan, by any metric, but I was mesmerized by Mai's presence on the stage. I was enchanted by her body language with every bow stroke and the dexterity and nimbleness of her elegant fingers on the violin's fret board.

As I watched and listened to Mai up there, on the stage, I realised that I was falling in love with her! Mai was transformed into a goddess, and I wanted to worship her! Well, perhaps 'worship' is not the most apt word to describe it.

I was getting moist below. I was actually getting sexually aroused. By a woman!

No, it couldn't be happening! It was just, too absurd! I had never been put into that state before by someone of my own gender.

The performance finished with a standing ovation, followed by a ten-minute encore, and then, the audience began to filter out of the auditorium. I remained seated, flushed and excited as I was, until I'd regained my composure.

Eventually, I made my way to the foyer to meet up with Mai. By the time I got to the foyer, the crowd had thinned out, so I had a clear view of Mai, violin case in hand.

She waved at me; smiling as she approached. The smile was contagious. So, I smiled and opened my arms to receive her. How could I not?

This, in spite of the emotional tumult and guilt I was feeling inside.

"Darling, you were wonderful!"

I exclaimed.

"Thank you, Barbara!"

she replied.

"I'm exhausted! Let's get back to the hotel, I need to go to bed!"

I'd already rung for a cab. So, we didn't have to wait long. The cab duly arrived, and we were soon back at the hotel.

The taxi-ride back didn't feel too awkward for me, in spite of my earlier episode.

Mai and I held hands, and she snuggled up close, with her head perched against my shoulder.

I bent my head sideways, against hers. We rode in silence.

Back at the hotel, and once we'd alighted from the lift onto our floor, I asked Mai if she was hungry, so I could order us something from room service.

"No, I don't need food,"

she said.

"What I need right now, is sex!"

"Well, Alex should be back by now,"

I reassured her, although her remark was a surprise.

"No, he's going to be ages yet,"

she grumbled,

"He messaged me earlier, said it was taking longer than he expected, so I shouldn't wait up for him."

I said there was nothing I could do about that and opened the door to my room. I thought it better not to discuss such matters in the hotel corridor and invited her in, so I could at least order room service.

It was getting on for eleven, and I was famished.

However, before I even managed to hit the room service button on the house phone, and completely out of the blue, Mai pronounced:

"Barbara, would you have sex with me?"

I'm not sure what shocked me more, the fact that she'd asked me, or the nonchalant way she asked it. Like, as if she'd asked me if I'd like a cup of tea! However, the irony was not lost on me.

For, had she asked me that question an hour earlier, I would very likely have said,

"Yes, please!".

But, at that moment, I was too mired under a mound of guilt, inadequacy, and stubborn conformity to legacy moral and social norms to reply, one way or the other.

My standing there, mouth open and speechless, probably prompted Mai to qualify her statement.

"No, no I'm not a lesbian, if that's what you're thinking! I'm bi. You know, bisexual! Alex knows and he's cool with it,"

she says.

After my own, earlier episode, I now understood how a woman could be sexually aroused by another woman, but a lifetime of conformity to the male-female binary coupling paradigm was for me, a strong obstacle to actual, same-gender sexual activity.

Or, put more simply, I had been conditioned to believe that consensual sex has to be between a man and a woman, and anything other than that is abnormal and against all the norms of both, our secular, and religious nurturing.

Mai launched into a diatribe on the subject:

"Sex between women is not exclusive to lesbians, in spite of the origins of the term. It has been practiced through the ages, going back millennia, even before the women of Lesbos in ancient Greece, hit upon the practice as a release from their abstinence from sex with their menfolk.

In fact, if you think about it, those women were also bisexual because, after all, they were married, heterosexual women who were forced by circumstance to turn to sex within their own gender in order to satisfy a basic human need.

The primary purpose of heterosexual sex is procreation, thus the perpetuation of the species. The pleasurable experience that is a consequence of this, is nature's reward for assuring the continuation of the species, which is after all, one of nature's creations.

Whereas, on the other hand, sex within the same gender takes on other dimensions. It is not only a recreational pleasure trip without the fear of unwanted conception, with the consequent responsibilities that come with that, but also satisfies an innate need for fulfilment and ratification of self-worth via the process of intimate, person-to-person contact. In effect, it's the exercise of libido, without the disadvantages but with all the benefits!"

I just nodded as I listened. I could not fault the logic, nor the historical precedent.

However, the clincher came when she appealed, not only to my innate feelings for her, but also to my own selfish, carnal needs, I suppose you could call them.

Her pitch was that I would be doing her a great favour in her time of need. She always felt the need for sex after a performance, like that evening's. Hence, she was in need of relief from the adrenaline boost that had put her libido into overdrive.

Normally, she would turn to one of the other female members of the ensemble who were similarly hyped up and horny.

Closer to home, Mai gave me a different perspective on my conjugal life. Ted was a good man and loving husband but, as I already mentioned, he was not the "touchy-feely" type.

So, after 30 years of marriage, the displays of affection, both private and public, as well as the accompanying, libidinous urges had dissipated to the level that sex was now a rare occurrence in our marriage bed.

Mai's assertion was that the best sex a woman can have, is with another woman who knows what a woman wants in bed. Only a woman knows instinctively what feels good to another woman, and how she needs to be touched, and where.