The President's Gay Wife Pt. 02

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Kitty is hired to 'reprogram' the gay wife.
9.9k words
4.69
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3

Part 2 of the 5 part series

Updated 09/22/2022
Created 02/27/2008
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Chapter 4

A useless going-nowhere debate in the House over the alleged unconstitutional temporary suspension of Parliament was raging when Lord Fitzroy, immaculately dressed in a white suit and black tie, entered flanked by the senior and junior whips who escorted him to his presidential seat. Bedlam following until the Speaker shouted for order 'one last time'. The speaker then called for the President to make a short statement of clarity to the House.

Even some Government members had expected the short speech would be an announcement of intent to voluntarily step down. Instead, Sir Gerald intoned:

It is said man cannot live by bread alone. Equally profound a man needs a wife. Following the untimely death of my first wife, whom this nation so dearly loved, I sought a suitable replacement and it seems due to my naivety about the sexuality of women I made a wee mistake. But should I be lambasted for that? Oh come on. How many of you, Mr Speaker, have screwed up over women or a man? (A murmur swept the House.) If my wife decides to sunbath discretely in the company of an illustrious female friend of high standing then so be it and if you believed doctored up evidence to the contrary, so be it. Now please, put aside your screwed up concepts on morality and let's get on with our democratic system of running his nation in a style that is the envy of all other nations.

And now, Mr Speaker, I move to another matter of greater importance. Since I've arrived back into the country Parliament has been in recess until parliamentarians were called together today. I have taken advice from my Prime Minister and the Attorney General and have been in consultation with the judiciary and the leader of the main opposition party. My decision is that as from 6:00 pm today Parliament will be dissolved on presidential decree and a General Election held on October 24, six months from today. All parliamentarians will remain on full salary until declaration of election results and the swearing in of the new Government. In that intervening period this country will be run by an Executive Council chaired by your President. Both measures I have outlined are in accordance to the Constitution during a Civil Emergency that I now officially declare is in effect as soon as this sitting of Parliament ends late this afternoon.

Thank you Mr Speaker.

The President sat amid stunned silence as MPs groped for understanding. They were aware of rumor that the country would be run by an Executive Council pending new elections. Where was the humble apology and offer to step down for being party to gravely shocking the nation and leaving its good name around the globe in tatters? The deputy PM clapped enthusiastically and still partly shocked members of the four parties represented in Parliament clapped mildly and then waited sullenly for the Speaker to resume formalities of business as set down on the Order Paper with the addition of the final matter, the formal notice of dissolution of the present Parliament.

Grinning and composing the heading for the Press Release, 'President Not Censored by Impressed MPs', Gerry reached for his phone and waited for the ass of his private secretary to exit through the door of the packed public gallery before calling her.

"Hi, little darling. Your speech was sensational."

"Thank you Mr President," Kitty said dully. "I only briefed the speech writer."

"I know, I know Kitty and you probably rewrote and edited it. But a million thanks. Forget the grief I caused you."

"Is that an apology?"

"Yes, were you expecting more?"

"Rather a lot more."

"I can go away with you this weekend?"

"I was thinking of a fulsome apology, not even greater punishment Mr President."

Kitty went to a downtown bar near her apartment at 4:00 to find everyone grouped around the TV watching the final proceedings after the President had announced the dissolution of Parliament. She thought none of them were interested in politics but sex plus politics was a different story. She settled in for the remainder of the afternoon but at 4.35 it was all over. Sir Max the Prime Minister had conferred with the Speaker beforehand and everything went his way. One of the minor parties moved the President and the Leader of the Opposition be censored for allowing their wives to behave in such a disgusting manner but the Speaker, very correctly, ruled that neither leaders could be held responsible for the free-will actions of their wives and also it was not relative to political debate. "This whole matter has been the subject of press speculation and doubtful photography and questionable identification. Therefore I rule any comment on that matter in the meantime is inadmissible."

The Prime Minister put his two motions and after pathetic debate they were passed, without amendment, with most parliamentarians excited by the prospect of six months' paid holiday. It would be left to the media to bray about 'the misuse of the parliamentary system and an appalling chapter of events that had led to this erosion of democracy', or words to that effect.

Kitty went home and went to sleep in a bubble bath, waking in time to paint her nails and trim her lower hair in case she became lax and decided to make Jim Gee lucky. Acting on information she'd received she called her occasional boyfriend.

"Hi Gavin, how's Tricia?"

"Oh Kitty, hi. I haven't seen Tricia for yonks."

"I heard she was with you at the Top People in Business awards on Saturday night?"

"Oh yes, so she was."

"And at the opening of the refurbished Orange Cinema Complex."

"Oh yeah."

"I can see you have no need for me Gavin."

Kitty was asked to give him a break but she said Gavin knew she couldn't stand Tricia.

"So it's goodbye?"

"Sharp thinking Gavin. Goodbye."

Walking out to flag down a cab, Kitty said to herself,

'Oh, clearing the way to move in with Jim Gee are we?"

'Shut your mouth slut. It's called repositioning.'

'If you last eight months I'll be surprised.'

'Well, no one was asking you. There always are men around who are afraid of marriage.'

'But Jim Gee is not one of those is he darling? You read in a magazine interview that he was just waiting to find the right chick.'

'Butt out you slut.'

The third attempted wave down succeeded in stopping a cab.

"Where to ma'am?"

"It's Miss actually. To the Press Club."

"You're tarted up a bit too much to mix with those women jurno lesbians."

Kitty was amused. "I wouldn't know what to do with a lesbian."

"Me neither. I guess if you just lay there quietly and uncomplaining..."

"I do that with some men and nothing happens."

"Miss, in that case may I..."

"Oh the weather, do you think it will rain?"

The cabbie said gruffly that it was already raining.

They continued on in silence.

Jim in jeans and a collarless white shirt bounded over to greet Kitty.

"May I kiss you?"

"Yes, keep your lips closed this time."

"Ouch, I guess I was a little eager down in the alley. How's this?"

"Oooh. One of those every night would be great."

Jim eyed Kitty thoughtfully and she wished she hadn't said that because men who weren't wimps didn't like being pushed. But when he replied she realized his mind was on something different.

"You are in danger dressed like that of being tossed out as it's midweek. Dress up is Saturdays and Sundays and special event nights midweek.

"I'm sorry. I'll eat somewhere else where I'm appreciated."

"Please stay here and eat with me but come to the bar first where I have Amanda Royce with a photographer waiting to interview you. The President's office has refused to comment about your dismissal."

"Resignation."

"The President's military aide called it a dismissal."

"The bastard."

"Quite. By the way, I didn't realize you had grown such wonderful legs over the past sixteen years."

Undoing the zip of her little black dress Kitty said, "Let me strip now and get you over this gap in your knowledge about my physical appearance."

Jim handled her like a Mr Smoothie. "Darling, please. I have full membership of this club and you possess honorary membership, being a past president and for exceptional services rendered. To strip nude would to jeopardize our memberships. However, proceed if you wish and I'll finance the best legal defense I can assembly in the land."

"Oh darling, with Chase scrambling to cull as much of your money from you as she can, I would not like you to put you at great expense on my account. Please re-zip me."

The couple was photographed as they entered the bar crowded with journalist who focused on them as the flashlight went off. Jim and Kitty were cheerfully applauded.

"Great to see you with someone with class at last," a woman called. The males jeered her.

"Jim, that lush is out of your reach," slurred a guy. The women turned on him indignantly but backed off when he agreed to shout a round of drinks for everyone. Although the drinks were subsidized, that unwise shout cost the guy $110.60. Carrying their drinks, Amanda led Kitty out to the general lounge for an interview that lasted almost an hour. Amanda gave Jim a big wink when they returned.

In the dining room Kitty asked Jim, "What did the wink mean -- something to do with the interview or she thinks you are in luck tonight or both?"

"The smile was to wish me well and the wink was signaling a great story but it's so controversial I must be back at 11:30 to sign it off."

"Damn, so you don't get to inspect my legs tonight after all?"

"I thought you didn't want my pawing at you until Chase is history?"

"I don't, and thank you for respecting my wishes and for keeping me on-track."

* * *

Jim Gee sat in his darkened office, leaning back on his chair, hands locked behind his head in the setup he called his 'contemplative pose'. The pose was not his of course, as he'd copied his father and paternal grandfather.

Prominent men, especially those in influential positions, who honestly believed they were capable of achieving greater steps towards changing the world, used that pose. It never occurred to honest and upstanding men that gang leaders and drug-runners used the 'contemplative pose' although newspaperman Jim was one exception to not overlook that truth. Women spurned the position because they knew it would mess their hair and realign their breasts provocatively. Instead they filed their nails or went out and had an affair whenever they felt the need to contemplate, the panic after the indiscretion stimulating blood flow to the brain.

Jim's deep thought of the day was about his progress in life. He had accumulated knowledge, experience, money and prestige but the need to be a watchful cynic to excel at his craft required him to be a step back from other people to leave his mind clear, his ears finely tuned and eyes as sharp as a tack. Well yes, it tended to sound like bullshit. However he did tend to be fair, true and tough when he thought it necessary, hence his unflattering and he believe quite unfair title of Scurrilous Jim. He specialized in writing in a hard-line and lowbrow style, sparing no one and readily calling a fool a fool and insisting his reporters and other writers do likewise in wringing out the truth, or their version of it.

Deepening thoughts turned his forehead into a frown. He'd left a space in his life for what he termed chivalrously 'a good woman'. But these days they seemed as difficult to secure as 'good help' to clean the house. A string of heartless failures lay in his wake, suggesting he was hopeless as a romantic but in his heart he knew women existed who'd accept there was no need for him to change -- that they would take him how he was and take him often. Take him often: he smiled at that sneaky thought his mind had tacked on to that piece of deep reflection.

Being hopeless as a romantic he'd thought Chase would emerge as 'the one' but with the crafty expertise that women appear to have as second nature she kept the fact that she was a selfish bitch and almost incapable of generating true love until weeks into their rocky relationship although it was true to say it was difficult to see the rocks for the sex initially. She should have known to leave when discovering she was unhappy but she'd stayed long enough to feel moneyed and comfortable and so found no incentive to wave goodbye. The torture of her mindless yapping and criticism of him finally became so distracting that he began the process of easing her from her comfortable nest.

And lo! During that process into his life returns a bright moth from his distant past -- Kitty. He'd blotted his copybook with her, Kitty being his only unsuccessful attempted seduction in an otherwise unbroken line of successful encounters. Carnal connection to half of the women of the city it would seem, he thought, er if one wished to boast grossly over the top. The more he thought about connecting carnally to Kitty the more her imaged floated in his mind like a bright moth until it became much more: he knew he was becoming passionate about Kitty. At that he almost tumbled out of his chair but fortunately leaning back made that impossible. Lo! His future lay in Kitty, er beside Kitty. Kitty had come to mind like this because in front of him lay a terse message from the President's office announcing Kitty Loveridge had been fired for dereliction of duties and insubordination.

Jim unclasped his hands, eased up straight and pushed the button and his PA the sweet Mrs Prebble swept in, always looking hopeful she'd be told to lock the door. The fool of an over-sexed woman seemed incapable of remembering she was married, thought Jim.

"Buzz Kristy and say I want Page 2 of Saturday's editions for myself and fetch coffee for us and stop all calls while for the next hour while I'll dictate my memories of Kitty as a eulogy for our President's departing private secretary. Yes, tell Kristy the heading will be, 'My Memories of Kitty'."

Mrs Prebble ran a hand over her left breast to catch the boss's attention. "God Jim, this is breaking new ground."

"Who else is in such a prime position to pay tribute to one of the greatest journalists, probably the greatest newspaper journalist, in this country's history post-independence?"

Although gripped in jealously, Mrs Prebble said with a wee bit of charm, "Well she's publicly denied it but still the reputation sticks. And all those awards must say something."

"True, but chop, chop -- call Kristy and come back with coffee and let's get started."

His PA stared at him, lips parted and she said passionately, "Ohmigod, Scurrilous Jim is in love."

Jim all but fell out of his chair.

* * *

Kitty was window shopping and was almost to the Parliament Compound when a car braked noisily just in front of her and a woman leapt out and ran in front of a parked vehicle to confront her.

"Come with us Miss Loveridge. No fuss please, this is a legal apprehension."

"Ah Skye, we meet at last," Kitty said, momentarily surprising the woman from the Bureau at being publicly identified. Kitty saw the guy that had emerged from the far side of their vehicle was almost up behind her.

"No, fuck off," Kitty yelled.

The guy behind her grabbed her hand and twisted it up behind Kitty. With her free hand Kitty ripped the front of her dress open and screamed, "Help!"

Two young guys in business suits reacted impressively and wrestled her assailant to the ground. Skye moved in and grabbed Kitty by the hair. Kitty screamed and a woman and a guy in tracksuits bounced up unnoticed behind Skye and slammed her into a parked vehicle. Skye fell heavily to the sidewalk and they sat on her. The gathering crowd closed in and an elderly woman handed Kitty a safety pin.

"I don't want to stick her with a pin, but thank you."

"No dear," smiled the woman. "It's to pin your dress closed. All the men can see your brassiere."

Back in her office Kitty looked up a private number and called the director of the Bureau.

"Hello Kitty."

"Oh Ralph, I'm sorry a couple of your agents were messed up attempting to curb my liberty."

"That's okay Kitty. They will be instructed to use a stun gun if there is to be a next time."

"Ralph darling, if you want information from me just invite me to lunch for a quiet chat and I'll cooperate fully. Gawd Ralph, I'm not an enemy of the State."

"What did you tell him Kitty?"

"Tell who?"

"Jim Gee."

"I spoke to him over the phone but because he wants to talk about a rumor that I've been fired. I told him your Bureau would be interested in me now that I'm not longer under the protection of the President. Mr Gee wasn't interested and he wouldn't want to know me because he already is in a liaison with some woman who apparently packs too much punch for him. Is he under investigation?"

"I'll think about lunch if there is a next time Kitty. I'll run out of agents otherwise. The two you tangled with today are at accident and emergency."

"But I didn't touch them Ralph, truly."

"Very cute. I have been advised what happened. Walk and talk lightly Kitty. It's for your own good."

Kitty ran the tape she'd made of that call but the playback was Gibberish. She wiped the tape thinking how gross. National Security with that sort of technology to make recordings of their calls unplayable simply wasn't playing fair.

Chapter 5

Next morning, an hour after Sir Gerald suffered acidic reflux reading page 1 and page 5 of theGuardian about his private secretary walking out on him, Kitty read the articles on the way to the airport. The story beside that illustration quoted Kitty as hotly disputing the claim she'd been fired. "I resigned as I'd had enough of the President's dictatorial ways and his appalling attitude towards women whom he regards as he would a piece of meat. His poor wife Lady Fitzroy is being treated like a leper rather than being taken into his arms and comforted and promised from now on he'll give her more attention. Instead the bast—d is planning to divorce her and align with his chief political opponent to lessen the public backlash. No doubt his rival is also contemplating divorce to wipe the slate clean. Those poor women."

The front page a picture of Kitty was taken during the visit of the British Prime Minister two months earlier when on his way to a cricket test match is some other former colony. She loved it and sighed. It was at a cocktail party at the British High Commission, a full portrait shot, taken just of her, turned slightly left to face the camera, clutching her evening bag cutely across her waist. She was in an ice-blue silk dress with sequins and multi-level hem and obviously no bra and someone had pushed a red hibiscus flower behind her ear. She had thought she'd looked good that night, in fact several women including Lady Fitzroy had said she'd looked sensational, and although the commercial photographer had promised to send her a print she never did.

The double line caption over the photo read:

Is Our PM Nuts, Allowing This Honey to Walk Out on Him?

Anxiously reading the caption, Kitty was relieved to find it was factual; she was named as Lord Fitzroy's extremely competent private secretary who'd chosen to resign on the day triggering the dissolution of the current session of Parliament.

Kitty turned to page 5 and screamed, "Amanda you bitch!"

"Okay Miss Loveridge?" called the cabbie.

"You know me?"

"Only from reading today'sGuardian. I thought you looked great in that under-sized bikini.

Kitty said defensively, having just looked at the objectionable photograph of her, mumbled, "I'd put on weight since the previous swimming season."

"Weight in the right places obviously."

She didn't answer. The interview, pictures and secondary story took up all of page 5. She was spilling out of her bikini top, her nipples were prominent and, "Oh God", she cringed, looking at the distinct shape of her vulva outlined under the material under stretch. The other photo was a close-up of her squinting along the barrel of a sniper's rifle on 'Open Day' for politicians and their senior support staff at the Army Base. Her tongue drooped from her mouth insanely. Well thought Kitty, attempting to simulate an insane tongue flop, at least that photo keeps me in proper perspective with folk ogling the bikini shot.