A Weekend Away

Along the High Street of Norwich there is a small book shop, not one such as W.H.Smith or Waterstone's, but more of the kind that they used to be when they first started out. It only has a small frontage and caters for the more astute connoisseur of first editions and those hard to find tomes of obscure writers as well as providing the service of finding out of print books.

It was here that Tracey Smith works as a salesperson as well as the arbiter between the two owners that were middle aged and live above the shop. The fact that they are gay didn't faze Tracey in the slightest and these disputes were so trivial that she laughed at them as she tried to resolve their differences.

She constantly brought them down to earth with her home spun philosophy and in spite of their sexual orientation, loved them both. They were good employers and knew their books from A to Z and were most affable to clients who came to the store. It was only when these were missing did they bitch at one another and it amazed Tracey how they had stayed together so long.

It had been somewhat difficult when she had applied for the vacancy of a sales clerk to convince them to hire her. Both had wanted a male clerk and said it quite bluntly, but then she was quick to point out that they would then forever be arguing as to who was going to take him to bed first. So the simplest thing was to employ her and as she was female, give them some credence in the High Street. The logic of her argument was accepted and she had got the job. That was two years ago.

She was a happy vivacious girl of twenty two, brown hair, brown eyes in a pretty face. Five foot six and tended to be a slight thicker round the waist that she had wished, but her bust compensated for this as well as having a nice pair of legs with trim ankles. Having worked there for so long, she was able to discern the nature of the person who came into the shop and she instantly knew whether to turn on her charm or call one of the two owners to deal with them. This was a bonus as far as these two gays concerned with her astuteness and clucked over her like two mother hens with their chick.

Tracey was happy working for these two ageing queens but it had its downside for not many heterosexual men visited the shop, though she did have a boy friend, one Mark Patterson. She had originally come from Lowestoft where work just didn't seem to be available and that was why she was living and working in Norwich. She currently lived in a bed-sit that wasn't really a place to entertain any boyfriends plus the fact that it took half of her earnings just to stay there.

This was to be changed when she finally got to know Diane Gardner. She worked further up the High Street in a Dental surgery as a receptionist, not well paid, but at least it was a steady job as everywhere, jobs were now at a premium. Well those that didn't involve you getting filthy or dishpan hands.

She was a mousey blond of twenty one years of age and not, it must be said, as pretty as Tracey. Her figure was passable only because her bust was slightly more oversize than it should have been for one of her height.

She lived at home with her mother and sister, and it was a serious canker to her. It was only a two bed roomed terraced house and she had to share the double bed in the second bedroom with her sister Margaret and was far better looking and only two years older than Diane who had just had her twenty first birthday. It was Margaret that got the boy friend's and would persist in bringing them home and when mother went to bed, would snog with them on the parlour sofa. This drove Diane mad as she either had to sit there and watch or go to bed on her own.

Many times Margaret had asked her to sleep downstairs on that small sofa so that she could take her current boyfriend to their bed. But Diane stuck to her guns here and suffered all the abuse from Margaret when she refused to have her sister have a man in her bed. Diane wasn't a virgin, but she would be damned if she'd let her sister have fun in her, albeit, shared bed while she slept on the sofa. So all was not well in that household with this being the main problem in Diane's life.

The surgery where she worked didn't officially open till nine in the morning, though she had to be there by eight thirty at the latest, and so would stop at a coffee shop on the High Street every morning to have a bracer as she called it before starting her working day. The bookshop also didn't open till nine, though Tracey only needed to be there at that time, but she too stopped off for coffee some times before getting to the shop.

It was only a nodding acquaintance at the start as they would see each other on most days of the week. Then came the good mornings to one another and before long, they would say a few more words as they queued up to be served. Eventually it got round to the point that they found that they both took lunch at the same time and so started to meet for lunch in a pub just down the road in the High Street. It was convenient for them by being about halfway between their two places of work. So within six months they were on giggling terms as it were over their half pint of beer and a sandwich.

Diane was envious of this new friend Tracey, so friendly and outgoing. Charming and witty and having the poise of independence as well as looking prettier than she was. She was also in awe of her for having the strength of character to move away from home and stand on her own two feet, though Tracey didn't have a good word to say about where she was living at the time. A nightmare, she called it. No male visitors and such like. It played havoc with one's love life she told Diane, who at that time, had only known two boys, and that being of a short duration.

It was Diane's wish that she could move away from home and have her own flat that inspired the idea that she and Tracey should move in together. Tracey herself was fed up with the rules and regulations of her bed-sit and would like to be in a flat where she could come and go as she pleased and entertain her boy friend in style.

'Why don't we move into a flat together. Two bedrooms with a lounge, it would be perfect. With two of us paying the rent it would probably be cheaper than what I'm paying now. How much do you give your mum every week?' she asked.

'Half of what I get from the surgery,' Diane replied, warming to this idea that Tracey had put on the table. 'Do you think we could do it together?'

'I'm sure of it. There's plenty of vacant flats round the town and I'm sure we could find one that would fit our budget. That is if you are up for it?'

Diane was and told her that she would be delighted if they could do this together. It would mean freedom from her sister's constant nagging about having to share the same bed every night when she should have a man beside her instead of a sister.

So they spent the next week during their lunch hour to visit estate agents that were letting flats. The following week they followed up and began viewing certain properties that fitted their agreed budget. It was during the second week that they found one that was both suitable and affordable and agreed to take it.

For Tracey it was no problem in giving notice to quit her room though it was a different matter for Diane. Her mother didn't want her to leave, no doubt thinking of the money that she was getting from her. But her sister was delighted and it was her who pushed their mother into accepting the fact that Diane was about to fly the nest.

So the very next week, Tracey and Diane signed the lease on this flat that they had chosen. They even splashed out on a taxi to collect both their cases of clothes and such like from both habitats to convey them to their new home. As both the bedrooms were of the same size, it didn't matter which one had which, but it still took them three months to get other things sorted out.

The bathroom was the first problem by it having only one shelf that wasn't big enough to accommodate all that they both needed, so separate racks were bought. The one on the left of the basin was for Tracey and the one on the right was Diane's. It can't be said that they were really arguments but there were problems when it came to cooking their evening dinners. Though they pooled a certain amount of money each into a pot from which came the food money, it was the actual cooking and subsequent washing up that caused some friction. But like everything else, it worked itself out in time, though Diane finished up doing most of the cooking side of things while Tracey did make serious attempts to keep the flat clean and tidy. Well this was in her own interests because it wasn't long before Mark began coming round for dinner once a week.

For this event, Tracey herself helped out in the kitchen to prepare the meal and she'd even bought a bottle of wine for the occasion, though Diane knew that it would be her doing the washing up, though she was surprised about this later in that first evening.

Mark duly arrived with a bottle of wine in each hand and quickly embraced Tracey with a big kiss and much to Diane's surprise, did the same to her.

'So you are Diane, the Goddess of hunting and the moon,' he declared, standing back and looking at her.

'That's Diana you are referring to you moron,' Tracey said taking the bottles from his hands.

'Ooh, I hate educated people,' he said, giving Diane a wink as he followed her into the kitchen. 'Well this is a damn sight better than your bed-sit I must say. You're sure Mrs Roach isn't lurking round the corner?' Mrs Roach having been the owner and landlady of Tracey's old bed-sit.

'So you're Diane,' he said turning to her. 'Tracey's told me a lot about you and she wasn't lying when she said you were a beauty.'

He gave her a warm smile and saw that he didn't need to visit her surgery. She blushed at his obvious lie but liked it nonetheless as she took in his light blue eyes that twinkled as he smiled. His mouth was firm as looked his body in the T shirt he was wearing, his legs covered by his jeans, she couldn't judge. He was about five foot eleven and looked as though he would weigh about one hundred and eighty pounds, hair dark but not quite black and cut rather conservatively; not too long and yet not too short. 'She also said that you are into something that's quite oral. What did she mean by that I wonder?'

'Ignore him Diane,' Tracey called out from the kitchen. 'He's just talking dirty.'

'I'm a dental receptionist,' Diane said, returning his smile.

'Well I knew it was something to do with the mouth,' he laughed as he sat himself down on their small sofa. 'What food are you destroying tonight,' he called out to Tracey. 'You should have seen what she did on a two ring gas stove at her last place,' he said in an aside to Diane but loud enough for Tracey to hear.

'You'd be surprised what I can do with a four ring stove now,' came from the kitchen.

'The mind boggles,' Mark laughed at Diane. She had to smile, for it was she who had prepared the meal and it was Tracey who was seeing to the last touches as though she herself had worked hard at producing their dinner.

'Just get up off your arse and come and open the wine. Diane? Can you help bring it out?'

The small table in the parlour just outside the kitchen had already been laid and was ready with cutlery and glasses, napkins had been added as an extra touch. The kitchen was too small for three people to be in at the same time so a corkscrew and bottle was thrust into Mark's hands and then propelled out to open it by the table. Diane actually saw to the dishing out of the food onto plates for Tracey to carry through to the table. The meal itself was simple by being just a beef stew followed by a crème caramel before cheese and biscuits. Coffee came later with a small bottle of brandy put on the table plus an ashtray because Mark was a smoker.

'That was a delightful meal,' Mark said as he sat back to light up a cigarette when the eating was finished and Tracey poured out coffee for them. Diane poured out small measures of brandy for each of them. 'I must compliment you Diane.'

'It was Tracey's dinner,' she observed.

'Nonsense! I've eaten Tracey's stews before, remember, and I could tell that this was a different hand that concocted this beautiful repast,' and he picked up Diane's hand and kissed it.

'God, what a Romeo!' Tracey cried out in mock horror to Diane. 'I'm surprised he hasn't gone down and kissed your feet.'

'That I would probably have done if you weren't here,' he flung back with a smile to take the sting out of the words. They finished their coffee and brandy and Diane got up and started to clear the table. 'Let me help you,' Mark said rising from his seat.

'My God! This is a first! Tracey exclaimed.

'It's the least I can do after such a wonderful meal,' he said as he winked at Diane which made her blush again. But he was brushed aside and told to go and sit down, and Tracey and Diane washed up and put the things away before returning to the parlour. Knowing that the other two would rather sit together, Diane went and sat in the arm chair as Mark poured out some more glasses of wine from the second bottle and settled himself down on the sofa next to Tracey who put her arm through his. He's mine, was the message that this gesture conveyed to Diane who had no thoughts of trying to steal him away from Tracey, and yet she still felt a twinge of jealousy that she had a man and she didn't.

'Tracey has spoken quite often of you since we moved in three weeks ago,' Diane said. 'She spoke a lot but never said anything, if you know what I mean. Like how handsome you are,' smiling because she knew this would cause some comment, and it did in the form of a snort from Tracey.

'Well I'm not sure what she has told you, but I agree with the handsome bit.' This brought him a slap from Tracey but with a smile. 'I work for my father who owns a printing works here in Norwich. I live at home and I enjoy the company of Tracey very much. That's it I'm afraid.'

'Well I've heard of a potted history, but that wouldn't fill an egg cup,' Diane said.

'What about yours then?' he countered.

'Much the same. I do wish sometimes that something exciting could happen,' Diane replied.

'Not much chance of that in Norwich,' he observed drily.

They talked a bit more as they finished their wine and Diane then caught Tracey's signal. It was more a movement of the head that was directed towards her bedroom and Diane picked up the hint that she was being asked to leave them alone in the parlour. Shades of home thought Diane. But at least she had her own room to go to and didn't have to share it while her sister, though in this case, Tracey could have what sexual fun she wanted in the parlour or her own room.

So with an elaborate yawn that didn't fool any of them, Diane got up from the chair and said that she was going to bed. She said goodnight to Mark and said that she hoped she would see him again soon before leaving the two of them alone in the parlour.

'I thought she was going to sit there all night,' Tracey said as she went into Mark's arms for a kiss.

'So did I,' he said between kisses as his hand went up under her jumper and found the bare breast that he had been seeking. Their kissing was on the frantic side for not having seen each other for nearly a week. His hand squeezing that full breast, bringing the nipple erect under his palm and made him let go of her so that he could pull the jumper right off of her. Tracey had no objections and lifted her arms to help him pull it over her head and then cradle his head as he sucked upon one of the erect nipples.

They kissed and petted each other, her stroking him on the outside of his jeans until he couldn't take any more before dragging her up from the sofa and letting her guide him into the bedroom that was hers. There they undressed quickly and got onto the bed and were soon coupled and made quite some noise in their lovemaking. This was made quite apparent by the banging of the headboard of the bed against the wall that adjoined Diane's bedroom as she lay on her own bed and cried.

It was the morning after Mark's third weekly night stop over that Diane gave vent to her feelings and spoke to Tracey. She stormed on about how that Tracey had a man while she went without by blatantly advertising the fact by having her head board constantly banging on her wall to make the point. Tracey was instantly contrite and apologised and said that it wouldn't happen again and indeed it didn't, but it was no consolation to Diane until Timothy came upon the scene.

Timothy was a lifelong friend of Mark, having gone to school together and they only lived a few doors away from each other. Tracey had told Mark of how it appeared, to her at least, that Diane was becoming really sexually frustrated at his visits and it was getting her down. So Mark suggested that he bring round Timothy to see if sparks could be made to kindle a little fire in Diane.

'Let's make something special tonight,' Tracey had said, the next time they were expecting Mark to come round for dinner.

'Why?' asked Diane.

'Mark's bringing a friend of his round this evening.'

'I see. A blind date.'

'No! It's not like that,' but she saw the look on Diane's face and had to give a sheepish smile. 'Well, let's say, half blind,' as she laughed. 'You don't have to like him if you don't want to. You're my friend and Timothy is Mark's, so what's wrong with us having dinner together. Just give it a chance Diane,' she said taking her hands in hers. 'You've been somewhat unhappy ever since Mark started coming round. You haven't been thinking of him have you?'

'Of course not! He's your fella.'

'So you'll give this Timothy a chance eh?'

'Will he be as wimpish as his name?' Diane asked somewhat sulkily.

'How the hell do I know? Timothy Dalton isn't a wimp is he? You wouldn't have minded being under him in one of those Bond films would you?'

'No, but...'

'No buts. He's coming to dinner, so let him see how well you can cook. Then it's up to you. If you don't like him, fine by me, but at least I've tried.' That closed the possible argument that could have ensued, but Diane acquiesced and set about preparing the dinner. Tracy did her part, somewhat offhandedly by cleaning some of the vegetables before leaving the kitchen to see to the table.

On time for a change, the doorbell rang and Tracey let in Mark and Timothy, getting a kiss from both and was pleased to see that Mark had obeyed her instructions by bringing four bottles of wine this time. On receiving the tentative kiss on the cheek from Timothy, Diane then had second thoughts if she was doing the right thing by accepting Mark's word that he was a fine young upstanding man. Maybe too upstanding for her shrinking violet that Diane was, was the thought that ran through her mind. But she didn't let these thoughts show as she welcomed him into their home and was glad to notice that they had stopped off for a drink before coming. Dutch courage she presumed on Timothy's part and silently thanked Mark for that. For she was unhappy that Diane was unhappy and hoped that the two would hit it off together. They did seem to be like two peas in a pod in their inherent shyness and resolved that she had to do her best to bring him out of his shell.

'Well Timothy, or is it Tim? Which do you preferred to be called?' Tracey asked as she ushered him into the parlour.

'It doesn't really matter. I've been called so many different names in the past that I don't care any longer,' he replied in a shy voice. Tracey shot a sharp glance at Mark who turned away as if not hearing the last comment.

'He's not gay is he?' Tracey whispered fiercely to Mark as they entered the parlour.

'I wouldn't know,' he replied. 'I've never asked him, but I think the answer's no. But then, considering some of the dogs he's been out with might have turned him off women,' he laughed and got a slap from Tracey for that.