Plain Jayne

She turned on the radio. The first song she heard was Tracy Chapman's "Fast Car" which was bad enough; and when a couple of tracks later they played R.E.M. -- "Everybody Hurts" -- it was too much. She turned off the radio, went to bed and cried herself to sleep.

To her surprise she woke up refreshed. The sad mood of the night before had lifted, and her first thoughts were about May's plan to have a night on the town together. She breakfasted pondering the idea and at work she was greeted by May with the good news that George had jumped to the idea. So when did Jayne think they should go?

May made the arrangements; they were to meet at May's place that Friday night and they'd visit May's favourite discotheque. The only one who really looked forward to it without a slightly uneasy feeling in her stomach was May; the others both felt somewhat nervous to say the least. George had dropped in on May to unburden his mind and May had tried to make him feel at ease; she almost succeeded. Jayne bottled everything up, as was her wont, and she went through the rest of the week in a mixture of expectation and apprehension, with apprehension coming first, most of the time. But she was rational enough to tell herself nothing much could happen; she might only be disappointed once more.

When Friday night came round they duly assembled at May's place. George was at least thirty minutes early. He looked immaculate in a new shirt and jacket and he had even polished his shoes, which May knew he hated.

Jayne was right on time. She had done her best to dress for the occasion. It was not how May would have dressed, but it did suit her somehow. May was amused to see she'd even tried to put on some make-up; but she took her along to the bathroom and corrected her effort.

"Oh, I am clumsy, aren't I?" Jayne said.

"No, you're just not too experienced. I simply want you to look really nice. Can you turn a little to the right, please? That's better, thank you."

When May had finished Jayne looked at herself in the mirror. "Yes," she said. "This is better. Thank you very much."

The girls went back to the living room. "Anyone for some coffee first?" May said.

"Not for me," George said, and Jayne shook her head.

"Alright then. Let's go."

The discotheque was getting fairly busy when they arrived. They left their coats at the cloakroom and went in. George ordered drinks and they stood together looking at the dancers while they talked and finished their drinks. Then May saw someone she knew and went on to the dance floor.

George smiled at Jayne. "Come," he said. "Shall we?"

"Yes please," Jayne said.

George took her hands in his and led her onto the floor. Then he put his hands on her shoulders and she held hers around his waist, a little awkward at first -- but when she didn't feel the unwillingness in him she'd experienced when she'd been out on the floor before she let herself be taken by the movements and the rhythm and allowed herself to enjoy the moment. George felt over the moon. He loved the feeling of her body in his arms, of her breasts against his chest and the smell of her hair, and he looked into her eyes and smiled. She smiled back at him, a little less uncertain of herself than a week before. She let herself be led by him, and she caught May's gaze for a moment. May gave her a wide smile and nodded at her.

Jayne closed her eyes, and tried to drink in the feeling of being in the arms of this man who seemed to accept her completely and who seemed to want her in his arms. She felt painfully happy, and rested her head on his shoulder, and she felt his face on hers.

After a couple of dances they went off the dance floor for another drink and some more talk, and George put an arm round her shoulder. Jayne looked at his face. He was looking at the dancers, and he looked very happy. He sensed she was looking at him and he looked her way, and when their eyes met he felt an overwhelming urge to kiss her. He moved his face a little closer to hers, and on an impulse she offered him her lips. George kissed her; to his surprise it made him tremble. He touched her lips with his tongue, and Jayne responded the way he'd hoped.

Then a jeering sing-song voice said, "Now isn't that something? Mr Handsome and plain Jane! Plain Jayne, Plain Jayne has goofed again! Plain Jayne, Plain Jayne -"

Billy James had got to know George vaguely from his nights out. He had always seemed a mild and self-effacing person, and Billy expected he'd retreat once again, so it took him quite by surprise when George wheeled round and took hold of his collar.

"You miserable idiot. If you don't want your teeth knocked in you'd better get out of here fast. And I mean fast." He spat his words at him from between clenched teeth.

Billy had seldom seen anyone so angry. George was so threatening it made him cringe, and he began to whine. "Don't you touch me! I will get the bouncer to throw you out!" Then he retched.

George let go of him, gave him a push and turned round. Jayne looked at him with wide, frightened eyes, and George's heart sank.

"I'm sorry," he said. "But I will not have anyone insult you. The fool, the great big fool."

Jayne put a hand on his arm. "Please," she said. "Let's go home."

George put his hand on Jayne's and looked around. Billy was consorted out of the place by a tall man who grinned at George and put up his thumb.

"If you really want to leave I'll come with you, and we'll have to find May," he said. "But that silly fool will not trouble us any more, and I would love to dance with you again." He put an arm round his shoulder.

Jayne trembled. She'd been so happy -- and then the jeering had undone all that. George had championed her -- and he had been very angry. Maybe it helped -- but she'd always been unable to put up a fight. She wanted to flee and she wanted to dance with him again and -- Then she put both arms around him and cried.

George stroked her hair and pressed her close. May materialised and asked him what had happened and he briefly explained. She walked over to a member of the staff to be told they'd thrown Billy out. He'd been a nuisance for quite some time, and they knew George for what he was, someone who'd never do anything. They'd figured that he must have been utterly provoked indeed.

"He was," May said. "Thank you for solving things this way."

She went back to Jayne and George. Jayne had stopped crying and she was just blowing her nose. Her eye make-up had got a little smeared, and she looked a bit puffy, but May saw with delight that she was looking at George with a smile, albeit a somewhat tearful one. Then George bent down and kissed her mouth. Good, May thought.

"Jayne, come along. I'll have to do restore your make-up a little," she said.

Jayne smiled at George again, and then she let herself be led to the ladies. May made her wash her face and then she made her up again.

"You said George was never angry," Jayne said. "So that means that he finds me worth worrying over?"

"Yes he does, and yes, you are. And don't you forget it!"

They went back to George and they danced some more. Jayne really like dancing with George, but the incident had noticeably dampened her mood, and after some time they called it a day.

The pavements were deserted, so they walked home three abreast, with George in the middle. Jayne kept looking at him whenever she could. After some time she sought his hand with hers. He felt her reaching for him and took her hand and softly squeezed it for a moment. They continued the rest of their walk hand in hand. Jayne lived nearest to the discotheque, so they dropped her off first. Just before she went in she turned around and quickly kissed George. Then she disappeared inside.

"Blast," George said, and then he embarked on a tirade about the way people treated Jayne.

May let him blow off steam, and the she said, "You did make a hit with her, though."

"Did I?"

"Yes. She noticed you find her important enough to make a fuss about."

"But that -- I mean, anyone would. The puerile imbecile! Jayne's simply twelve echelons above him."

"That's what you think. And I couldn't agree more. But for her it's completely new."

George thought about it for a moment. "Yes. Poor girl," he said.

Billy James, who for all his bullying was a coward at heart, had given his comrades a higly embellished version of what had happened. He'd been beaten within an inch of his life, and George -- man, you wouldn't half want to meet him alone at night. The result, contrary to Billy's hopes, was that the rest decided to leave George be - and his ugly slut as well.

Halfway the next week George rang the bell at Jayne's place. He hoped she'd be in, and to his relief she was. She opened the door and her face that had been a little pinched when he saw her through the door broke into a wide smile when she saw him.

"Hi George," she said. "Please do come in!"

George put his coat in the hall and went with her into the living room.

"I've just made some tea," she said. "Would you like some?"

George nodded, and she went to the kitchen top get another cup. She'd remembered from their encounters at May's that he didn't take sugar.

George looked around. There were a few unusual drawings on the wall, and a couple of traditional paintings, and the place was riddled with books. Most of them looked decidedly read.

"Listen," Jayne said. "We were talking music at May's -- do you know this?"

She pressed a button on the remote and a tinkling, high guitar filled the room, with a bouncy rhythm behind it. Then a man's voice with a couple of background singers filled out the sound. George thought he recognised Kanda Bongo Man, and said so.

"Yes," Jayne said. "I've just got it today; I bought it online. It's nice, isn't it?"

"Yes," George said. "I do like soukous."

He smiled at Jayne, and they listened to the CD together.

Then George opened his bag and took out a couple of papers.

"Er," he began, "I gave your stories to the editor and they've been accepted. So I brought you some papers to sign."

He explained the ins and outs to her, and they discussed what she'd better do, and what not, and then she signed. He gave her one copy and put the other back into his bag.

"You know," he said, "there will be a concert by Oliver Mutukudzi this Friday night. He's from Zimbabwe and he is really good. Would you care to come?"

"Is it like this?" she asked.

"Well, in a way -- but the guitars are different, and the choruses -- there is quite a distance between Congo and Zimbabwe."

"Oh," she said. "Can I? I'd love to. I never heard an African band play live."

"Good. I'll get the tickets, and I'll collect you on Friday."

George left and Jayne went into the kitchen to prepare dinner. While the water was getting on the boil she called May, and told her.

"Look," she said, "I'd like to wear something nice. Could you help me go shopping tomorrow? I'm never too certain of what to buy."

"Love to," May said, and she meant it. "I'll turn you into a fashion queen!"

Jayne started to protest that that wasn't what she wanted, and then she realised May was joking.

"We will get you nicely dressed, though," May said.

The girls had a lot of fun the next afternoon. May had a good eye for clothes and she made sure that they suited Jayne's complexion and hair colour. Afterwards they shared a meal at Jayne's place, and Jayne played her new CD once again.

"I hope tomorrow's concert will be as nice," she said.

George picked her up about an hour early. Jayne wore her new dress and George complimented her on it -- he thought she looked smashing. Jayne loved it; she beamed at him and gave him a shy peck on the mouth.

They went to the venue early; George wanted to stand close to the stage, to be able to see the artists well. There were a lot of different people there; about half the audience was African.

Jayne said, "I never knew there were so many Africans in town."

"I think most of them don't live here," George said. "Mutukudzi used to be one of the top three artists in Zimbabwe -- he probably still is."

One tall African spotted George and came up to him. "Hi five!" he said and greeted George enthusiastically.

George introduced Rigo to Jayne. They shook hands and Rigo gave Jayne a brilliant smile. "You like Mutukudzi?" he asked.

"I don't know him yet."

"Oh, then you're in for a treat, just you wait," Rigo said. Then he walked off.

They waited for some time while the roadies finished laying cables and testing mikes, and then a man with a colourful hat and an acoustic guitar came on stage. He grinned at the audience and started to play, to be followed by his band members who came on stage after him. Jayne was mesmerised by his voice. The music had a different rhythm from her own CDs; it had a special lilt to it and almost immediately the audience stood swaying to the music, and lots of people began crowding the area in front of the stage.

George put his hands round Jayne's waist and stood behind her. She found it impossible to stand still, and she moved to the music with her shoulders leaning against George's chest, smiling at the people on stage, mainly looking at that wonderful singer.

George divided his attention between Mutukudzi, his two attractive backing singers and the most important person present, who was standing right in front of him. He nuzzled her hair and she look round at him for a moment and smiled. She put her hands on George's and decided that this was utter bliss, and she closed her eyes for some time to take everything in even better.

Mutukudzi played for about ninety minutes. Then the band stopped. They were given such an enormously enthusiastic applause that they broke into a few more songs. Jayne leant into George again and to her own surprise she lifted George's hands to rest on her breasts. Blushing furiously she looked round to see if he minded but he smiled at her as if he liked it, so she kept him there. It made her feel hot all over, but it was nice.

George loved it. He could feel her nipples against the palms of his hands, and he revelled in the feel of her body against his, soft and entirely at ease.

The encore was over far too soon to their liking. The singer announced they'd play an old song, "Pindurai Mambo," to finish the concert and after six minutes or so the instruments stopped and the singers sang the chorus a cappella, the final "Mamboooo" ringing in their ears.

"Fantastic," she said when they had left the venue with the CD they'd bought in the pocket of George's jacket.

"Yes," George said. "He is wonderful, isn't he? Care to have a drink?"

They went to a small pub in a back street that had a couple of wooden benches outside and sat drinking and talking in the warm night air. George kept looking at this wonderful woman who apparently liked him as much as he liked her. He loved her smile, and he wondered why on earth her parents had never let her have a brace -- it would have spared her a lot of misery, he thought.

He didn't mind. He never cared for too regular faces, and he absolutely despised people who gave themselves airs because of their looks. Jayne, he thought, was the genuine thing.

He was so immersed in his thoughts that he didn't hear her question at first, and she had to repeat it.

"Would you like to come to dinner on Sunday?"

"Yes of course. I'd love to!"

"Good," she said.

"Shall I come round a bout five? Then I can help you cook."

"You're welcome at five, but you don't have to help. I'll manage."

When the pub closed George walked her home. He gave her the CD, she put her arms round his neck and kissed him hard. Then she released him and said, "George, this was wonderful. I am so happy when we're together -- it almost hurts."

She gave him another short kiss and he saw there were tears in her eyes. Then she smiled at him, said goodnight and went in.

That Saturday morning Jayne went to May. They had a long talk about men, and George, and Jayne, who had never spoken about such things with her parents, let alone with anyone else, asked her a lot of things she wanted to know. She wanted to make love with George but she was afraid to make mistakes, and it took May quite some reassuring to make Jayne realise that in love there are no such things.

"George doesn't make any overtures, though," she said.

"He's probably afraid to scare you off. I think he'd love to sleep with you as much as you would. He always was very gentle, and er -- I think he's waiting for the right moment."

"Do you think he'd mind if I took the first step?"

"Not he. I think he'll be delighted."

Jayne nodded. "Do you think I'd better buy new underwear?"

"George doesn't care," May said. "He will appreciate it, I suppose. But if it makes you feel less insecure I'd certainly do so. Do you want me to come along?"

"Yes please. He really likes me, don't you think so?"

"I know he does. He told me. He thinks you're beautiful. He actually came back two days after you'd first met to find out if he might stand a chance with you!"

Jayne's face slowly turned into the happiest smile May had seen on her yet.

"Oh," she said, "do you think he might want to stay with me?"

"Yes. All the symptoms are there, and he is not the kind of person to go in for half-baked relationships."

"You won't tell him we talked about this, will you?"

"Jayne! What do you take me for?"

They went shopping again. May made her buy something that was rather more daring than she'd have bought herself though much less so than May would have chosen. They made a nice afternoon of it, ending up in a tea shop for some tea and cakes, talking and giggling.

When they eventually parted May wished Jayne luck. "You will be alright," she said.

At first Jayne couldn't sleep. She kept tossing and turning and worrying if she could do things correctly, and if George would want to and if... Then she dropped off. She woke up early and gave her apartment a critical eye, but it seemed alright. She carefully made her bed, and went through everything twice.

Then she sat down, had some coffee and laughed at herself. As if George would care. Still, she wanted everything to be perfect.

That afternoon she prepared an oven dish that could take care of itself once she'd stuck it into the pre-heated oven, a leek flan with Edam and ham that was filling without being too heavy. She laid the table and opened a bottle of wine she'd bought to breathe, and then she put Mutukudzi into the CD player, sat back and closed her eyes.

One more hour until five o'clock.

George had made a copy of one of his own favourite bands for her and he rang the bell at a little to five. She opened the door and he took her hands and kissed her.

"Hello beautiful," he said. "Thank you I could come."

They went in and he gave her the CD.

"One moment," Jayne said. "I'll have to stick the food into the oven."

Then she came back with the wine and poured them some. George stood looking at one of the pictures on the wall.

"Who made this?" he said. "I could use something like this for a client who wants a special site."

"They're mine," Jayne said.

"Wow! Really. Would you like working with me? It would please him no end!"

Jayne nodded. "I think so," she said. "But it depends on who he is and on how many compromises I'd have to make."

"Fair enough. I wouldn't want to make any at all."

"Maybe we could meet together." She handed him his glass. "Cheers!" she said.

George sat down with his drink and looked around the room again. You could see the owner was female, but the room was not overtly feminine; Jayne didn't go for pink upholstery and the few decorative things she had were well-designed pieces of art. He quite enjoyed sitting there.