Talking to Jemima

Copyright Oggbashan February 2015

The author asserts the moral right to be identified as the author of this work.

This is a work of fiction. The events described here are imaginary; the settings and characters are fictitious and are not intended to represent specific places or living persons.

*

As an elderly widower I'm not as competent with computers and particularly the internet as I should be. But one of my young close neighbours, Lee, is competent and owes me a few favours. I had helped recently with his planning application to convert his garage into a home office. He works part-time as a web designer as well as his normal employment running a secondary school's network.

I had been having trouble with annoying pop-ups and too much spam. My computer had been getting slower and slower to load. When I saw Lee I mentioned my difficulties. He promised to sort it out for me.

I had a long meeting in my diary for Tuesday evening, 31st March. Lee agreed to work on my computer that evening. He would remove unnecessary start-ups, whatever they are, and temporary files, and do other things that are incomprehensible for me. He asked that I should sign on the internet about ten o'clock on the Wednesday morning to check that everything had been fixed. He would be available on his home phone number between ten and eleven if I had any problems.

Lee had finished before I got home. He had left a post-it note on the keyboard:

"As a test, I have set the system to start a pop-up when you sign on to the net. It is safe. Try it for a few minutes. It shouldn't affect your system but might amuse you."

I was slightly dubious. Lee's sense of humour isn't mine. Why should it be? We are different generations.

He had cleaned around the computer and set it up as he had done when he helped me to talk to my grandchildren in Australia. The camera was pointing at where I would sit, and the headphones with microphone were plugged in. I assumed that he intended me to use them. I was right. There was another small post-it note on the headphones:

"Wear these when testing."

I went to bed.

The next morning, after breakfast, I picked up my scribbled notes of last night's meeting. Once I had tested Lee's improvements I would transcribe them to yet another Word document. It would probably be filed and never looked at again. Most of my notes of meetings were never used again. My memory was good enough without the notes.

I switched the computer on. I was impressed. It loaded Windows in seconds instead of the several minutes I was used to. There were fewer icons on my desktop. One was new, marked 'Jemima'.

I clicked on my browser. It started to load quickly. I just saw it flash on to my home page before it was replaced with a video of a woman looking impatiently at the camera. She looked bored. Her face was in shadow and indistinct yet I could see she was elaborately made-up as if for an evening clubbing. It was obviously a looped video, running about twenty seconds before repeating.

The top of the screen had a flashing box: "Talk to Sexy Jemima". At the right edge of the screen were a set of buttons labelled with a dozen alternatives e.g. Femdom, Fetish, Incest etc. The lowest one was marked 'Other'.

There was a banner scrolling across the bottom of the screen.

"Free three minute no-obligation trial. Ten minute sessions ten US dollars by anonymous PayPal."

I assumed that this was Lee's test pop-up. I put the headphones on, adjusted the microphone and moved the cursor to the "Talk to Sexy Jemima" box. I hesitated for a few seconds before clicking the mouse.

The screen changed quickly. The woman appeared live, still in shadow. She jumped as if someone had stuck a pin in her. I nearly laughed out loud. 'Sexy Jemima' ought not to be startled by a customer. She shook herself and spoke.

"Hello, Dennis. Welcome to live chat with sexy Jemima."

The 'Hello' had been squeaked. By the time she said 'sexy Jemina' her voice had lowered to a sultry tone.

"Hello, Jemima," I said cautiously.

"You'll have to speak louder, Dennis. I barely heard that, and I want to hear your responses. This is a free trial. Please ignore the payment options. You can have as long as you like with sexy Jemima. I'll be helping you, and you will be helping me."

"How will I be helping you?" I asked. I wasn't convinced by sexy Jemima. She seemed more nervous than sexy.

"This is a new website, only just started, Dennis. I hope you will stay talking to me long enough for us to try the options built into it. Will you help me, please?" She was almost pleading with me.

"I'll try, Jemima. I'm not sure I'm the best test subject. I've never..."

"...Logged on to talk to a sexy lady, Dennis?"

"That, and I'm not a competent internet user, Jemima."

"Which is why you are ideal, Dennis. If you can..."

"...anyone can?" I finished.

"I think you are possibly better than you think you are. Are you ready to start? Or have you any questions first?"

"Yes, Jemima. Are you one of Lee's customers?"

"Yes, Dennis. I am. He built this system and website for me. We have been trying it out but he is an expert user. He asked me to be a guinea pig for your system too, so while you help me, you are helping yourself as well."

"OK, Jemima, as long as it is the system we're trying, not your sexy repertoire. I'm not sure I want to discuss some of the options I see listed. They don't appeal..."

"OK, Dennis." Jemima laughed. "Some of them don't appeal to me either, but I can do them if I have to. Are there any that you like?"

"I don't think so. I'm beginning to enjoy talking to you, but I have a problem with a sexy Jemima."

"You do, Dennis? What's the problem?"

"Your name, Jemima. I have associations with the name Jemima, and they're not sexy."

"They're not? Why not?"

"The only Jemima I'm aware of is Jemima Puddleduck from Beatrix Potter's stories that I used to read to my children..."

Jemima laughed. It was a nice sound, much more appealing than her fake sultry voice.

"I can see that might be a problem. OK, for this test, call me Anne. That do?"

"Yes Anne. Is that your real name?"

"I'm not saying, Dennis. It will do for this morning. How do I look on your screen?"

"You're in shadow. I can see your face but not clearly."

"Is the screen breaking up at all, or does it look like a television picture?"

"There's no technical problem. The picture looks like real time with no delays. Not like some TV news reports on location where the picture jumps."

"That's good. I'm in shadow because I don't want Dennis to recognise me in the street. Normally I'd switch on a light behind the screen to show me clearly."

"Would I recognise you, Anne?"

"You might. That could be embarrassing."

"I suppose it would be if I knew that one of my neighbours was 'sexy Jemima'."

"But you would be discreet, even if you did know, wouldn't you, Dennis?"

Anne was almost pleading again.

"Yes, Anne. If I recognise you, I won't tell anyone. I promise."

"Thank you, Dennis. I'm beginning to see why Lee suggested you for this test. Shall we start it?"

"I'm ready, I think."

"Thank you. On my screen it shows your IP address and which company you use for internet access. Can we check that?"

"The company? Yes, Anne. The IP address? I wouldn't have a clue. You'd have to ask Lee what it is."

"We'll leave that then. How about definition on screen?"

"I can't tell, Anne. You are in shadow and the background is out of focus."

"Right. I'll try something."

Anne's head moved out of vision. When she reappeared she was wearing a full face mask. She reached behind the camera. I had a clear view of attractive bumps under her dark blue top. Whoever Anne is, she apparently has a reasonable development. As she moved back, a light was on and I saw her bra outlined under the top.

The plastic mask was a simpering nonentity with red rouge patches on the cheeks and bright red bee-stung lips. It was clearly defined, so clearly that I could see every detail. Anne's voice was muffled.

"How's that, Dennis?"

"Very distinct but not attractive. I preferred a real woman in shadow, Anne."

"OK. I'll try something else."

She stood up and moved sideways. She was wearing a flared suede skirt that moved around nice legs. When she reappeared the mask had gone. She had a veil around her head, or was it a veil? It looked more like a short net curtain. The light reflected off its whiteness.

"Well?"

"Yes, Anne, I can see clearly but the reflection off your veil is too bright. It's distorting the whole screen with the flare. I think you were better in shadow."

"Blast! OK, Dennis. I'll switch the light off again."

I had another glimpse of bra as she reached for the light. Once it was off she pulled off her veil and sat back on her chair.

"Anne. I think that light is much too bright. If I were to see your real face the impression would be too harsh. It was when you were wearing the mask. Perhaps a lower wattage bulb would be better?"

"You could be right. That's easily changed. Now, could you try each of the buttons on the left of your screen, one by one, please?"

"OK, Anne. First one."

I clicked on Femdom.

"Femdom," Anne said.

I nodded.

We went through all twelve buttons. Each worked as labelled.

"Now the payment options, please, Dennis."

Each one worked.

"OK, Dennis," Anne said. "I think we have proved, not just that the website Lee created for me works as it should, but that your computer is working much better. Do you agree?"

"Yes, Anne. Everything works well. I'm surprised how fast my computer is, and although the website you're using isn't one I'd choose to visit, it seems a competent design. But are you really going to be sexy Jemima?"

Anne smiled at me. I could see that much even in the shadow.

"I'm pleased you're happy with what Lee has done, but there is one more thing you should do, please. When I tell you, can you shut down this link with the red cross upper right, leave your browser running, and click on the 'Jemima' icon on your desktop?"

"OK, Anne. I'm ready."

"Wait a second or two, Dennis. I'm not. I'm going to walk away from the screen and you'll hear me tell you to close and switch. Wait for my voice, please."

Anne stood up. I watched her walk away and to the left out of sight. I heard running water as if she was washing her hands.

"OK, Dennis. Please close the website down and click on the Jemima icon."

I heard, but couldn't see, Anne walking back towards her computer. I closed the website. It shut quickly leaving my home page on screen. I minimised that and clicked on the 'Jemima' icon.

Anne was sitting back in front of the camera. All the buttons previously around the screen had gone. So had her thick make-up. The lighting was perfect. I was looking at an attractive mature woman I recognised instantly. 'Anne' was Michelle, the widow I saw and talked to almost every day.

"Hello, Dennis," she said. "Thank you for helping me and Lee. I'm not, and never will be sexy Jemima. That website was a test, not just for me, but for you and Lee. The real website will have different names for all the buttons. They're easy to change, according to Lee."

"But why were you sexy Jemima?"

"What's the date today, Dennis?"

"Oh. April 1st! Shit! It was an April Fool."

"Yes. It was an April Fool. Lee's sense of humour, not mine. He persuaded me to do it because he's doing my website as a free trial."

"It fooled me completely. It was the last thing I'd expect Michelle to do. You were brilliant."

"Thank you, Dennis. You were polite and helpful to Jemima/Anne. I don't think real customers of a sex website would be so courteous."

"But why did you do it, Michelle? Apart from helping Lee?"

"Can't you guess? I wanted you to think of me as sexy Jemima. How was I to know that your association would be with a duck?"

"You didn't need to be Jemima. I would have helped Michelle too."

"I know. So? Did you think of me as sexy?"

"As Jemima Puddleduck? No. As Anne? Yes. As Michelle? You know I do."

"Do I? You've always treated me like a lady."

"You are. A lady, that is. But you are also..."

I stopped. I didn't want to say it through a microphone to a camera.

"...also what, Dennis?"

"Michelle. I'm going to switch off, close down or whatever, and I want to meet you in person, now, face to face."

"Why, Dennis?" Michelle was teasing me.

"Because there are some things I cannot say nor do through an internet link. Can I come and see you? Now?"

"Yes, Dennis. I'll make some coffee. See you in a couple of minutes."

She did. As soon I was in her kitchen we didn't need words. Sexy Jemima proved that the real Michelle could kiss and cuddle to our mutual satisfaction.

That April Fool proved something to us. We had been fools not to recognise that we wanted each other. We owed Lee, and not just for his computer expertise.