Transformation Story: That Personal Experience Part 1

This story is a kind of a sequel to ‘More than an Ally’ featuring the same principles and, at the start, some of the characters from that story.

That Personal Experience

Part 1

Jan stopped at the door emblazoned with ‘Women’s Advice Centre’ wondering if this was actually the right thing to do. It had all started when she seemed unable to resolve issues at her job. While she had been at the insurance company for five years, she felt that she was always being passed over in favour of others when it came to training courses or attending events and that, Jan increasingly recognised, also inhibited her shots at promotion. Men, often much younger than her, appeared favoured in these respects.

Once, perhaps, she would have told herself she was imagining it. However, finally getting away from Oliver following the sale of the house which he had forced, she felt she had to do something to change the rut her life seemed to be hovering on the edge of. Lena had encouraged her to do more than simply complain in the office and Rehana, another of her workmates, had recommended this lot. Still, Jan was uncertain whether they could achieve anything.

With her fingers still wrapped around the door handle, Jan realised she had been spotted. The late middle-aged woman who had been sat at the reception desk had now come up to the door and, smiling broadly, gestured enthusiastically for Jan to enter. Feeling a little embarrassed and worried she would simply seem a fool if she went away now, Jan opened the door and went in.

“Hello there, thanks for coming in, it makes it easier for people to enter if there’s not others stood in the way.”

Jan tried to detect a snide edge in the woman’s remark but failed to and imagined that somehow it was a genuine comment concealing no criticism. 

“I’m … Jan Shaw … I made an appointment.” 

She glanced up at the list of advisors ‘in today’ according to the screen on the wall behind the desk. 

“Yes, I remember you phoning,” the woman said cheerfully as she retreated back to her seat. “Just go right through, it’s the second door on the right.” 

“Thanks.” 

The next set of glass doors were buzzed and Jan opened these and went through. The door to the second office stood open. She tapped on it and walked in. The woman sat there looked up. She was black, a dark caramel shade; her hair had a buzzcut that had been dyed a dark wheat tone. Numerous rings edged her ears and she had a stud in her nose. She wore a purple leather short-sleeved top which clung to her full breasts. Jan was uncertain if this was the adviser she was meant to see; Rehana had spoken about a white woman who dressed like a lawyer. 

“I was expecting to meet a Marianne Taylor; does she still work here?” 

The black woman hesitated for a moment, “no, well yes and no. I was born Marianne Taylor, but Jordan-Taylor’s my married name and everyone calls me Emmi. 

Jan recalled seeing ‘M.E. Jordan-Taylor’ on the sign at the front. She felt self-conscious realising that from the name she had expected that to mean a white woman. 

“You must be Jan, take a seat. What can I help you with today? It was about being passed over at work?” 

Emmi typed something into her keyboard as Jan took the proffered seat. 

“Thank you, Emmi,” she responded trying to suggest that she was in no way prejudiced. 

“Ah yes … I see.” 

In the next fifteen minutes, Jan gave more detail about what had been going on. Emmi listened attentively. However, given the steps Jan’s employers had taken, it appeared there was little she could do to bring an accusation of discrimination. 

“I bet I wouldn’t have this problem if I was a black lesbian,” exasperated, Jan complained. 

Emmi smiled in response. 

“Oh, I am sorry, I didn’t mean that; I shouldn’t have said that.” 

Jan had no idea if this Emmi was even a lesbian. However, looking over the tight sleeveless top and black leather trousers she wore, the stud in her nose and the close-cut hair in the wheat shade, she guessed there was a good chance she might be. Was that why Jan had come out with what she had? 

“I guess it’s hard for you, the bigots, being shouted out, all that kind of stuff.” Jan tried to sound sympathetic. 

“I wish you could know the pleasures of being a black lesbian.” 

The voice came from behind her, and embarrassed Jan turned to see another black woman of a similar build to Emmi.  She was in a dark blue long-sleeved top and tight black jeans sitting high on her hips.  Her hair was straight, dyed a lighter colour than Emmi’s but she had similar piercings, with diamond earrings and a stud that glittered. 

“This is my wife, Carmen,” Emmi introduced. 

Jan would have to confess she had not got used yet to women referring to their wives, nor men to their husbands. However, she guessed given how much of a hole she had dug for herself, it was best to say nothing. Jan stood and took the hand proffered by Carmen. As she did, she felt something like a spark and imagined it was static off the chair. 

“I … I am Jan, Janet Shaw.  Nice to meet you.” 

“Likewise.” 

“Look I’m sorry if … well, if I caused offence.” 

“No need. If you’ve not lived the life, then you can get a screwed-up impression. Yes, we can get hassle, but you know there’s nothing sweeter than waking up with a beautiful black woman holding you.” 

“Let alone one sliding between your legs to give you a morning lick,” Emmi chuckled. 

It took some moments for Jan to realise what she was talking about. 

“Yes …” she tried to laugh to cover embarrassment, sure she must be blushing furiously, “I guess.” 

“Give it a go,” Carmen said, “you don’t know what you’re missing.” 

“Okay …” 

Now Jan felt very uncomfortable, worried that whatever she might say now would either seem rude or just embarrass her further. Fortunately, there was a call from the woman at reception and Carmen hurried off to deal with whatever she was needed for. Self-consciously, Jan picked up the little she had brought with her and the couple of leaflets Emmi had provided. She told herself she would follow the guidance and try to get a record of anything that sounded like she was being picked on – apparently memories of conversations that might be interpreted a number of ways were not going to cut it with any tribunal. Thrusting everything into her handbag brusquely, Jan stood. 

“Thank you very much … for your help … I am sorry …” 

Jan trailed off in the typically apologetic British way. Emmi closed her eyes and smiled as if she was forgiving everything. Still, Jan felt as if she had really messed up and, as she scurried from the office, concerned that she risked being charged with discrimination herself if she came out with so many bad sounding phrases as she had done this afternoon. Walking away from the centre, deaf to the receptionist’s warm farewell, Jan wondered if it had been a mistake to come here. She had wanted to get something moving, but now that seemed as if it would be some distance in the future, if ever. 

**** 

While she had wanted to move forward on something, this evening Jan was wondering if, despite her enthusiasm earlier in the week, she was actually in the right place to start dating again. However, part of her resented the fact that Oliver had got out of the marriage because he had already set up another relationship. In that way she felt doubly cheated. Sitting at the wine bar tonight, however, Jan worried that she was rushing it all simply because she was so eager to be in a relationship; to have someone to show off at the next party she attended, let alone if the incessant wrangling with Oliver ended up in court. 

Tonight, should be the first meeting with Alex Clarke, a man she had had some conversations with online. He was her age but travel had meant he had not married. Now, back in Britain, he was looking for something longer standing. Even if he did not turn out to be the passion of her life, Jan tried to reverse her momentary uncertainty and tell herself that, anyway, it was probably a good idea to get back in the habit of dating, even if she should not hope for anything more just yet. Then she flipped again and began to worry now that her confidence was fading and that only good manners was preventing her from simply abandoning. 

Glancing at her watch, Jan saw it was spot on the time she had arranged to meet Alex. She scanned the room, hoping that he would be prompt and only then to feel a little anxious that the encounter might only be moments away. However, glancing towards the door, she only saw a black woman enter. She was striking: about Jan’s height but with braided hair cascading from the top of her head. Her face was an elegant oval with the broad nose and full lips Jan would associate with black women, emphasised by the slender gold ring arcing through her right nostril and the plum coloured lipstick she wore. Her skin was a pecan colour and looked wonderfully smooth. She was dressed in a dark blue, buttoned shirt under a black biker style jacket; beneath were tight black canvas trousers and patent black brogues. Jan wondered who she was here to meet and then idly if she was straight or a lesbian like Emmi Taylor. Then Jan tried to shake away the thoughts of black lesbians telling herself that this minor obsession was the universe’s penalty for her being so rude earlier. 

Jan was still gazing at the door looking for this Alex, when she realised that someone was standing across the wooden table from her. Looking up she saw it was the black woman, smiling warmly. 

“Jan Shaw?” 

“Erh, yes, yes that’s me.” 

“Great, I’m Alex, Alex Clarke.” 

In that moment Jan felt as if she had suddenly dropped ten floors. How had she made such a mistake? Was this some kind of joke?  Did the real Alex Clarke get off on setting women up only to send someone else along, another woman, in his place? Had Jan’s emails been going to the wrong address and while she had believed she had been communicating with a white man, in fact it had been a black woman? Given this woman had turned up for what was clearly a date, surely she was a lesbian and believed Jan to be one too. Jan’s head was spinning and she desperately thought of some way to get out of this, but without causing offence. 

Alex took the seat opposite Jan and kept smiling. Jan knew she had to say something. 

“Sorry, I’m not great at this … it’s been some … well, a while,” Jan tried to apologise. 

“Don’t worry, I’m just the same. My heart’s beating a thousand to the dozen, you know.” 

“I’m … I’m glad you came.” 

“Well, as I said in the messages, I don’t mess people around. That sounded like you too.” 

Jan recalled some discussion along those lines, though at the time she had thought it was with a man. 

“Yes, yes, you’re right there. I am looking for someone reliable.” 

“Been burned before?” 

Jan nodded, but then realised ‘Alex’ would think she meant with a woman. At some stage she needed to find a way to communicate that she was not a lesbian without upsetting Alex. Maybe she could simply send a terse email the following day saying Alex was not ‘her type’ and delete her profile and sign up with another company. Jan smiled and nodded. 

“Okay, well from me you’ll just get it straight forward. Can I get you another drink?” 

For a moment Jan felt it odd to accept a drink from a woman on what was supposed to be a date, but she knew she would have done if it had been a man offering. 

“Sure, I don’t want to get too drunk … you know …” Jan did not really know what she meant but it sounded right. 

“Don’t worry, you’re safe with me – know that.” Alex cupped the back of Jan’s hand with her own, her skin was nicely warm. 

“I’m having a spiced rum, how about you, more wine – a viognier, if I’m not wrong.” 

Jan was impressed with the woman’s knowledge of wine. 

“I’ll …,” something in Jan urged her to do different to usual, perhaps in some way to distance her from Jan-the-lesbian, “I’ll have a spiced rum too.” 

Alex smiled in response and then Jan worried that contrary to her intention, she had sent out some kind of signal that she was keen to get in step with this woman. Nothing seemed to come of it as Alex moved away to get the drinks and Jan wondered if being put in an unexpected situation was making her more self-critical than necessary. Soon Alex was back and Jan was drinking the rum, liking the flavour. 

“That’s nice,” Jan said. 

“Yes, I only got into it recently. Usually I am like you, I have a nice white.” 

For an instant Jan worried that was some kind of off-colour joke, but then that moment passed and she realised it was something the pair of them had in common. 

“Well, you know your stuff, you got the viognier … erm, right off.” Now Jan worried she was patronising. 

“Shall we share a bottle after this?” 

“Erm … not on an empty stomach.” 

“Well, do you fancy getting something to eat too? … I know this was supposed to be just drinks but … I’d like … I’m happy to …” 

Now it was Alex’s turn to be hesitant for which Jan felt a real sympathy. This time she found herself reaching out to take Alex’s hand. 

“No, that would be good, nice … yes, let’s.” 

Even though Jan knew she was not going to see this woman subsequently, in the few minutes they had already been together, she realised she felt comfortable with Alex. They appeared to be on the same wavelength on a couple of things even if Jan could never imagine pulling off a stylish outfit like Alex’s. In the next ten minutes they had ordered and Jan was glad to find they both ate the same kind of things and she did not need to worry that Alex was a vegetarian who would scowl at her as she munched her way through an upmarket burger.

 “And Jan is for Janeka?” Alex guessed. 

Jan had just taken a mouthful of her food and felt it easier to nod. She did not expect to see this woman ever again and while she felt a little guilty in lying, she guessed it was simpler just to go along with what Alex believed. That was followed by the thought that if Alex was persistent, thinking that there had been a ‘spark’ between them, the confusion over the name would make it harder to find Jan. 

Swallowing at last, Jan asked, “and your name?” 

“Alex from Alexis, but that sounds too grand. I think my mother had high hopes for me.” 

“Is she really disappointed in you?” 

Alex had already outlined that she was partner in a management consultancy which specialised in helping out small and medium businesses that might otherwise struggle to get support. She was not wealthy, but neither was she struggling to make ends meet. 

“I think that she always dreamt of a big white wedding for me.” 

“These days you can have that … it’s possible for men and men, women and women.” 

“Yes, it is that. Maybe I need to remind Mum of that,” Alex chuckled. “The thing is … well, it was hard to say that I was having a wedding if there was no ‘Mrs. Right’, hence … well, hence this,” Alex gestured around her. 

Jan knew she was referring to the whole getting back into dating thing. Though she had gone into this looking for a decent man, she acknowledged it was little different for a woman seeking a woman, though, perhaps the pool was smaller. 

“I think she’d like grandkids too,” Alex added. 

“That is far from being an impossibility.” 

“You’ve given all this some thought.” 

“Erm … yes, sometimes,” Jan spluttered a little, she had never thought about these things in a lesbian context. “But I have come to no decisions, you know. I don’t want you to think I am coming here – boom! – insisting on marriage and kids and all the rest.” 

Jan felt herself blushing. Just when she thought she had got a handle on this evening, now she was conscious she was at risk of making new blunders. Alex reached out for her hand again and looked intently at Jan until she glanced up and their eyes connected. 

“No-one’s an expert in this kind of thing. There’s no score at the end of the evening,” she chuckled. 

“Sure, yes, thank you, Alex. You are so understanding.” 

Alex smiled and Jan felt heartened by it. She gently freed her hand and resumed eating, worrying that if she found any more good traits in the woman it would make it even harder to let her down; to ignore her in the days to come. However, those concerns were soon lost in how good it was talking with Alex. It proved to be only the wine bar closing that brought the discussion to an end. 

Outside, Jan felt herself as anxious as back when she had first realised that her date was with a woman. She had already decided that she would continue to play along for now. She would not even reveal the truth about her mistake and plead something generic via the website about not feeling the vibe or work taking up too much time suddenly. In part she was loath to lose Alex as a friend, but imagined that, given how they had first met, the woman would rightly expect that, if their relationship continued, it would become sexual. 

“Thank you, Alex, a wonderful evening,” Jan said sincerely. 

She guessed that while she was quite keen to get into a new relationship, there was nothing wrong with a ‘girls’ night out’ too. 

“Look – I don’t usually do this – in fact never, but … but, but, I’ve got this feeling, that you might,” now Alex was sounding a little coy, “you might like to take this somewhere a bit more private, get to know each other just that little bit better? Tell me – am I reading all of this wrong; rushing in?” 

With a gulp, Jan realised Alex was suggesting that they go to her place for sex. While she had anticipated that if they met again, she had been caught out by it appearing already. Now she felt that she had utterly failed in sending out the signals she wanted. Perhaps Alex looked right through them or maybe she did this with every woman she dated. However, the conversation of the past few hours had not suggested anything of that kind in Alex’s character. It looked as if she had fallen hard for Jan – Janeka – as she believed her to be and that was such a shame. 

“Yes … sorry, no. I mean, yes, perhaps rushing in. Please don’t … don’t take this the wrong way. I think you are a great woman and …” 

“No, it’s me who should apologise. We’ve only met tonight. I guess I feel I already know you better because of the online stuff, but yes, it is sudden.” 

That response reassured Jan a little. “Yes, I like you … I mean, I like spending time with you, but …” 

She scrambled around for some excuse that would not sound weak, let alone patronising. Could she find something that did not simply boil down to: ‘I’m not even into women’ and so spare her feeling that she had been a complete idiot to have mistaken the person shown in the image; to not have checked what gender their profile displayed and for having simply strayed into the same-sex dating part of the website without noticing? 

“Let’s do this again. I might be less … well, so uncertain next time,” Jan found herself blurting. 

Jan wondered if Alex would see this as a brush-off anyway. 

“Yes, that is good. Allow me to be a bit less ‘full on’,” she responded a little sheepishly. 

“Don’t blame yourself, Alex. No-one has made me feel so desired, so good about myself as you did just then …” 

Jan realised that those words were true; to be told by someone they wanted to be with you naked, was a compliment really no matter what the source was. She reflected that she might have been cautious that Alex was just thinking of a quick one-night stand. However, then recalled what she had said earlier, they had been corresponding online for a couple of weeks and maybe though she had been envisaging a Mr. Clarke at the other end, it did mean they were not strangers. Alex had already got to know more about her than Jan imagined anyone bothering to do if they were simply seeking sex. 

The response clearly made Alex pleased. However, Jan then realised how in her attempt to avoid as much embarrassment as possible and yet to not seem rude, she was complicating things so much further. 

“I’m … I’m glad I did that, Jan.’ 

Alex looked as if she was going to something more. However, she first closed her lips together then, stepping forward she pressed them gently onto Jan’s and wrapped her arm into the small of her back. For a moment Jan was startled, but the sensation of the woman’s smooth lips, the light scent she wore, the feel of her soft and warm skin, were all delicious. Then Jan was conscious of her breasts pressing against another pair. Something told her that this was not her, but the feelings were too pleasant for her to retreat from. Then Alex stepped back and Jan felt unsteady and quickly embarrassed. 

‘Erm … yes, I will … I must get a taxi,’ Jan spluttered. 

She did not really know what to do but walked away without looking back and in any direction until she found a minicab office. It was only once she was in the car and being taken to her flat that she wondered if at the end she had been rude. By the time she had got through her front door, however, she was considering whether she was a lesbian or was bisexual or bi-curious, all the terms she had heard but had never considered applying to herself. Was it unusual to have enjoyed being kissed by a woman? Perhaps not and, she knew, for her it had been a real novelty. 

Then Jan found a host of counter-arguments. She had lost track of how much wine she had consumed, let alone the rum she had managed to forget. As she undressed and started the shower, she told herself that, if she had been a genuine lesbian, she would not have passed up the chance of sex with Alex. That appeared a little harsh and she guessed that lesbians were as polite and as cautious as any other women might be. Stepping into the shower and letting the warm water wash over her, Jan now realised just how taut her body was; how perky her nipples had become. 

Soon Jan found that she was rubbing shower gel across her skin and then feeling slick down to her pussy lips. They were open and, she realised as her hand knocked against it, her clitoris was excited. Any thoughts of how she had become so aroused; whether it meant that she was sexually attracted, perhaps not to all women, but at least one woman, passed quickly through Jan’s mind. Instead, she found she could not resist gently catching her nipples, stroking at her clit with the other hand and then running its side the length of her lips. 

Quickly came memories of the kiss and then the thought of Alex doing all this stroking to her. Then she envisaged running her hands across that woman’s wet backside, taking her ample breasts in her hands, closing her lips around the excited nipples. There was no questioning of any of those thoughts, just a riding on the pleasure. It was almost as if she could feel Alex with her, naked; as if she had said yes and gone back to her flat; said yes and indulged in as much sex with her as she could handle. Looking down her body, across its dark tawny shaded skin, Jan felt a building orgasm and had the sense that when she came it would be hard and all encompassing. 

Dark Tawny? The brown skin tone was lighter than that of Alex, but surely of a shade many times darker than if Jan had spent the week at a tanning salon. Startled, Jan looked again, feeling her arousal ebb away as she took in the black hair around her pussy and then the large umber-coloured areolae and nipples taut at the tip of her ample breasts. The body she knew had known all her life, especially when not weathered by the sun, was a creamy pink, her nipples a blush shade and surrounded by small raised circles, barely distinguishable from the skin beyond them. 

Abruptly, sure now that she was hallucinating, Jan killed the shower and hurried from it, grabbing towels and falling down on to her bed, her eyes closed. Images of having sex with Alex continued to try to force their way into her head and Jan had to breathe deeply and use mindfulness techniques to clarify her thoughts; take them away from the exotic, erotic ideas which she now blamed for triggering something. She guessed, in the end, that more wine, let alone rum, than she would drink on even a normal evening out, had combined with the excitement and doubt; the mistake that had meant a date with a woman – a black woman at that – to spin her thoughts, even her vision, right around. 

**** 

Following the encounter with Alex and all that had followed, Jan had thrown herself into her work and had stayed late so that she would get home very tired and fall straight asleep. She had downloaded as many straight romance and romantic comedy movies as she could, feeling that she might be able to douse the confused feelings she had had about Alex in the hour afterwards. She wondered if she should also swear off wine. However, there had been no repeat of the hallucination in the shower and, as the days passed, Jan was glad that the details faded from her mind. She was, though, conscious that her colleagues seemed to react to her differently. Some she found were a little more distant, some stopped to look at her for moments at a time, but proved to have nothing to say. 

While she tried to dismiss it as paranoia, Jan came to the sense that someone from work had seen her being kissed by Alex and the gossip had spread. Jan now felt a fool. The wine bar was in the centre of town and she knew at least a few of colleagues had visited it at one time or another. It would have been possible, given how preoccupied she had been, for one of them to have been in there, let alone driving by at just the moment Alex had decided to launch herself at Jan. She was beginning to consider how she might explain what had happened and whether she should just let it fade from people’s memories, when Miranda, her manager’s manager, came into her office. 

“Jan – hi. I have been, well, giving some thought to some of the things you’ve been asking Amita, you know, in terms of training; other opportunities. I don’t know why we didn’t think about this before,” Miranda blustered. “But you’d be ideal for the diversity committee, wouldn’t you? Bring the black and the lesbian perspectives – not just for employees but customers too.” 

Jan did not know how to respond to this. It now seemed certain that someone had seen her with Alex and had made big assumptions. 

“Well … I know some … one black lesbian,” Jan responded hesitantly. 

“Yes, of course, which will do, but I am sure you know others in the ‘sisterhood’,” Miranda mimed the quotation marks. “There’s no Ms. Right on the horizon at the moment? A wonderful woman like you – I imagine it won’t be long and you can even get married these days, have a wife,” she chuckled as if it was something hilarious. 

Jan guessed that with someone as insensitive to avoiding causing offence as Miranda Elliott, almost anyone could do better at representing the wider community on this committee. 

“To get you ready for the first meeting I know Anton would love it if you could work up a paper on what black women … black lesbians too, are looking for in the insurance marketplace. The next meeting is a week on Wednesday, could you have a paper ready by then? Four or five thousand words would be fine. That’s great. I’ll make sure you’re on the circulation list. Great.” 

Miranda grinned, and without saying anything more, left Jan rather bewildered. She guessed it was better to be on these committees than left off everything. However, Jan had little idea where to start with what black women might specifically want from insurance. The thought of contacting Alex again began to nudge itself into her mind and she tried to stop the unwanted imaginings of where more encounters with her would end up. However, Jan prided herself on doing her job as well as she could. If the office believed she had a source into black lesbian opinion she guessed she might as well use it, even if she was sure that Alex would hardly say she spoke for the whole community. 

Jan warned herself, however, that she would have to explicit with the poor woman. She already worried Alex thought their date had been the start of ‘something’. Jan knew she had to bite the bullet and be upfront with the woman this time. However, that did not mean they could not be on good terms nor, Jan felt a little cynically, that she could not get some pointers from Alex on what to write for this report. Rather hesitantly, feeling that it was undoing all what she had achieved in moving beyond her ‘blip’, Jan surreptitiously went back to the dating website, the only way so far, she had of contacting Alex. 

Accessing the site, Jan saw there was a message. For an instant she hoped that it had been from one of the men she had messaged that week, keen to reassert that she was in the market for a date with a man. However, as she clicked on it, she saw it was from Alex and she felt that uneasy sensation return quickly. The message had been sent at the end of the previous week, just a couple of days after they had met, saying how much she had enjoyed the evening and a mix of trying to encourage another date and not wanting to seem too eager. Contrary to the site’s guidance Alex had provided both a private email address and her mobile phone number. 

Given that she had not responded, Jan wondered if Alex had ‘got the message’ at least the one she had intended before. She tried to work out a form of words to send via email having the sense that if she spoke to Alex now, she would end up either misleading or offending her. After some effort, she felt mildly satisfied that the email both proposed another meeting, but also tried to move things on to a platonic basis. Consequently, Jan found her optimism growing that she could strike the right balance. Yes, she might be exploiting Alex a little to benefit her career, but this might also be a way to let her down gently. 

**** 

Jan hoped that having them meet in a café during the middle of the day, would reduce the date-like appearance of this second meeting. She had picked one upstairs in a bookshop, though she had not visited it for years. While she felt she could make an excuse if anyone saw her here with Alex that it was connected with work, she still found herself rather jumpy that someone she knew, beyond Miranda Elliott, was going to come in. She then flipped to thinking it might be a better outcome and she could introduce Alex, making it clear she was someone she was pumping for information rather than anything else. She had no doubt it would make Alex feel uncomfortable, perhaps even tricked, but it could spare Jan much unease later. She wondered how she had become so devious and if it was a result of the culture of her workplace. For the moment, however, she tried to suppress concerns about how Alex would take it, recognising that such sentiments were largely to blame for the confusion that had arisen the first time. 

Glancing up and seeing the section of the bookshop with ‘gay and lesbian literature’, Jan found herself moving to another table and then around it until she felt there was no sight line which might suggest she had been looking at or towards those books. This was all turning out to be more complex than she had even imagined when sending the email. Deciding on what to wear had been a similar challenge she recalled now. Originally, she had adopted a casual suit with a long jacket over a plain teeshirt. However, then she felt that had looked too masculine and by default, ‘lesbian’. She had switched out the trousers for a floral skirt which she hoped looked more girly and heterosexual. Then, however, she had kept to laced-up boots not wanting to attract the interest of men who might think she was being flirtatious if she wore heels. A little wearily Jan mourned how now having to consider both the gaze of men and of lesbians, made her task of pitching it right, that bit harder. She realised she was beginning to understand why so many women retreated into semi-isolation with just cats around them. 

‘Jan.’

At the sound of her name, Jan almost shrieked. She jumped up but it took some moments for Jan to recognise Alex. The black leather jumpsuit she wore was striking. It was not tight but was wrap-around at the top and nipped in at the waist by a chain link belt. The loose bottom half fed into patent ankle boots.  What had Alex got on under there? Jan tried to push the image of sleek silk underwear from her mind. Surely lesbians did not go for that kind of stuff. 

While Jan struggled for a response, all the lines she had prepared immediately gone from her mind, Alex continued speaking. 

“I like your outfit … with those boots, I don’t need to ask if you like leather … I wonder, no, let’s leave that to next time.” 

Briefly Jan considered questioning if there would be a next time and was a bit worried that what she might have done to put Alex off by not responding had now been completely reversed. As yet, she had not plucked up enough courage even to say she was not a lesbian. Jan knew that to go on any longer, misleading Alex further, would be cruel. 

“Well, erm … thank you. I like your … your outfit.” 

“I had a feeling you would,” Alex said excitedly. “I could so imagine you in a leather jumpsuit.” She let her words trail off then. 

Jan had the sense that since their first meeting, Alex had done nothing to rein in the fantasies that it might have provoked. 

“Can I get you a coffee?” Jan pressed hoping to get on more neutral topics. 

“Sure, yes.” 

Alex hesitated for a moment and Jan picked up the sense that she wanted to kiss a greeting. In response she headed off towards the baristas before she had even found out what Alex might like. Fortunately having to track back and get Alex’s order seemed to diffuse the situation. The next ten minutes were taken up with general small talk. It turned out Alex was a regular visitor to this bookshop and reeled off a number of lesbian authors she liked to read. Jan wondered if this was a kind of test and simply stuck to nodding and truthfully saying, ‘no, I have not read her work’. Then she worried that Alex would offer to lend her some books so she pointed out, this being largely a lie, how much time at weekends, work took up. 

“But you’re going to make time for Pride next week?” 

While the town’s LGBT Pride event was comparatively new, Jan knew she had seen publicity for it. The fact that she had shut out how imminent it was, Jan felt, was probably due to her sense, this meeting notwithstanding, that she now had to go out of her way to prove she did not fit the L category, not even the B. 

“Shall we go together?” Alex asked even before Jan had responded. 

“I … I don’t know, I worry about being judged. What people might say.” 

For a moment Jan worried about being accused of all kinds of things. 

“I understand. Everyone has their own journey and I remembered about what you said about being burned before. Have I come over as too keen …?” 

Now Jan saw a chance. “Well …” she said simply. 

“I am so sorry. It’s just you … you look so … so like a woman I could be with and everything you did and said last time added to that sense.” 

Jan wondered if Alex had a particular ‘thing’ for white women. Then she realised that there had been another subtle compliment in all that. 

“Yes … you are wonderful, but yes, maybe I am not ready for … for anything ‘full on’ yet. I might have made a mistake … I am sorry if I did.” 

“No, no need to apologise for anything, this is just about testing the water, right? This is only the second time we’ve met.” 

“But we know a lot about each other already,” Jan admitted, even though she had believed that all Alex had revealed about herself, her life, had been about a man. 

“I do have to apologise about something.” 

“What is that? Are you seeing someone else? Trying out the field? In your shoes, I would do the same; that’s what such dating services allow us.” 

It had not been what Jan meant but the sense that she was not the only woman Alex might have an interest in, was very reassuring. 

“No, no I am not seeing anyone else,” Jan responded truthfully, at least until one of the men who she had messaged, responded. “No … I feel rather cheeky, but I have been put on the diversity committee at work and they’ve asked me to come up with what I think black women – including black lesbians, they made that very clear – want from insurance.” 

It had been a rehearsed speech and having delivered it, Jan felt a mix of emotions from worrying that it was patronising to wondering what she felt about using the term ‘lesbian’ to Alex. She guessed though, that given the earlier comment about Pride, that would be less concern. 

“I just wondered if you could help me.” 

“Of course, Jan. It’s good that they’ve got you on the committee; at least someone who can represent us, who knows where we are coming from. There’s nothing worse than a diversity committee simply made up of straight white men.” 

Jan nodded though she felt as ill-equipped to ‘represent’ women like Alex as if she had been a straight white man herself. In the next hour Alex provided more than enough material for the report. While she accepted things had eased a little now that a woman could have a wife in the legal sense, she did feel companies were still struggling in how they communicated to prospective clients, both on racial and orientation grounds. By the end of it, Jan had forgotten all the tensions she had felt and was now pleased she had approached Alex for help. 

“Now the work is over, do you fancy lunch?” 

Though she could not deny that being with Alex had again made her feel relaxed, Jan was now sharply conscious of all her resolutions to pour cold water on their connection. Given how Alex had come dressed, she had the sense that this would develop and might even lead on to a night together. Jan clung to that aspect, knowing she would not know where to start in having sex with a woman, even if the mood had taken her. Hurriedly she sought an excuse. 

“No, I must be getting back. I have to write all of this up by Monday,” she lied and in doing so realised that she had to feel little for Alex if she could do so easily. 

“All work and no play makes Jan a dull …” Alex’s line tapered off. It had sounded more pitying than critical. “Sorry, you are a woman, you make decisions. I respect you and so I have to respect them,” she added philosophically. 

“I wish more people thought like you Alex.” 

The woman chuckled. “You know, I’m unique. You won’t find another like me.” 

In that moment Jan felt a little mean. After all, Alex had gone into this honestly whereas she had effectively been misleading right from the outset. It had been the result of carelessness rather than malice, but she recognised that if she did not play fair now it would be a form of, if not nastiness, then at least thoughtlessness. 

“Yes, and I am not going to pass up on a chance of being with you,” Jan gabbled out, instantly feeling she had gone too far. “Let us get some lunch. An hour won’t make a huge impact on my time.” 

It still sounded rather miserly, perhaps even condescending. As they rose from the table, Jan realised that if Alex had been a man then she probably would have been making similar appeals to him and his response might have been much the same. She told herself that she had to avoid behaving like a man, not least, like Oliver. Then she guessed she did not know how the dynamics worked in a lesbian relationship anyway, though she imagined that the ‘man’/’woman’ roles too many expected to see replicated in them, was very narrow minded. 

Walking to the stairs, Jan saw two black women coming towards them. One looked incredibly like Alex. The other was of her height but her hair was cropped tight and coloured the same kind of light shade Jan had used on hers in the past. The woman wore a long cream sweater dress over black leggings with a bit of a shine that then led into over-the-knee black leather boots. She felt a bit of a thrill to imagine herself dressed like that, but knew she would never have the courage to buy these items, let alone wear them together when out. This woman also had a gold ring through her nose which matched that of her partner. In that instant Jan realised she assumed – perhaps knew – that these two were a couple. She wondered if Alex knew them and then laughed as she recalled more than one sit com in which people assumed every gay person knew every other in a city. 

Jan turned to Alex for an instant to ask, but then realised it was just foolish and instead smiled. Then she looked back and saw that the black couple had not progressed, in fact had stopped. A sudden feeling as if she had fallen from a tall building came over Jan as her mind struggled to grapple with the impossible. She realised now that the two women were not other people coming into the café, instead she was looking at a reflection in the large sheet of glass over the posters for new books which decorated the stairwell. She stepped to one side and raised her hand. The cropped hair woman in the long boots matched her gestures exactly, though her nails were cut short but painted a deep purple. Fascination mixed with shock, made Jan stare into the woman’s face, pick out traits that she might see in her own. 

The dark tawny skin tone then recalled what she had seen in the shower. Now she worried that something, perhaps the stress of meeting with Alex again, let alone weaving a range of lies, had triggered this hallucination. It seemed to be that she was envisaging the kind of woman that she felt Alex would find the perfect partner, but then madly projecting it on to herself. Jan had no problem with mixed-race couples but something in her seemed to be insisting that even then, deep inside, she had a view of whom Alex would feel best with. 

“Jan? Jan are you alright?” Alex asked. 

“Yes, yes, perhaps I stood up too quickly.” 

Alex sat Jan down on one of the sofas and fetched a glass of water from the baristas. Jan kept her eyes closed then, as Alex passed the glass to her, she opened them and was a little reassured to see her skin was pale pink, her nails were long and not painted purple, that she wore tights and the laced-up boots rather than leggings and over-the-knee boots. In the next few minutes, Jan was plied with biscuits and sweet tea; Alex being very solicitous over her welfare. 

“I think I had better head home,” Jan explained and stopped herself before slipping into adding ‘we can do lunch another day’. 

“Do you want me to drop you off?” 

Given how tough it could be to park in the town centre, Jan had taken the bus to get to the café and thought now to go home by taxi. However, that seemed to be going to extremes. 

“Sure, yes, that would be good.” 

Jan rose slowly from the sofa but feeling stable then walked briskly. Fortunately, this time the reflection seemed muted and anyway, she caught sight of her blazer and floral skirt, so felt reassured. It was not a long walk to the car and Jan said nothing, self-conscious that she was now depending on Alex and would be taking her to her flat. The idea of giving a false address and walking from there quickly seemed childish. As a result, thirty minutes later, Jan was leading the way up to her flat, glad that she was feeling better, but conscious now that she was letting Alex further into her life. She hesitated at the door. 

“Look, Alex, don’t worry, I am grateful for all that you have done. I know too that while you might be sassy …” Jan shuddered at the word she had found, “a woman who knows what she wants from life - you are a lady.” 

Alex smiled and reached simply to kiss Jan’s cheek; she was unresisting. 

“You are so understanding Jan.” 

“Well, dating … or you know, even making friends, in the 21st Century is a minefield and none of us is an expert. Come in.” 

Alex accepted and made complimentary remarks about the place which Jan worked hard to keep looking good. Soon they were on the sofa, though this time Jan had opted from herbal tea wondering if the café coffee had had a few too many high-caffeine shots in it. With no other noises around Jan came to realise how melodious Alex’s voice was. It seemed to fit her personality perfectly as if it too could wrap her up and keep her safe; love her. 

**** 

Her head suddenly rolling off the arm of the sofa brought Jan awake. She quickly realised she was alone. In part she felt foolish to have actually fallen asleep but then was grateful it had spared her more awkwardness, more blunders in negotiating her way out of whatever it was that had developed with Alex. She pondered vaguely if that morning’s incident would have put her off or brought out her caring instincts. It was clear that Alex was ‘into’ her and saw some future together, but maybe the ‘baggage’ that Jan was coming to reveal, even if that had been unintentional, would be a counter-balance. Jan hoped so, as it would spare her more difficult conversations of the kind Britons generally tried to stay a thousand miles away from. 

Setting those thoughts aside, Jan spent the rest of the afternoon scouring the internet for information about her symptoms. They were enough for her to book an online appointment with a doctor, though, as usual in this rather overcrowded town, that would be more than a fortnight off. As she kept on searching, however, she found postings and stories that seemed incredible and spoke about magic changes to people and how they might see their future form reflected. Having reached that level of the internet, Jan felt she had gone far too far. She quickly showered, keeping her eyes closed for much of the process and then, in an oversized dressing gown, sat watching old movies as if she actually had an illness.