Courting Lamara Pt. 01

"She's the reason I asked you to come along," Lamara explained that night, "I just didn't know that you and her had been an item. Look, if you'd rather back out I'll completely understand."

"I'm not backing out," I flicked through the dresses on the rack in the store, "I just thought it was a small world indeed."

"Where are you? I can hear music."

"Forest Hill shopping centre," I replied, "I dropped in after work to see what they've got in the way of dresses, I've got plenty at home but nothing that would suit a wedding."

"See anything you like?"

"Plenty of prom style dresses but they're a bit too jazzy, lots of white, cream and a hideous baby shit green colour."

"What're you doing tomorrow arvo?"

"Working."

"All afternoon?"

"Well I can take breaks, we do get meal breaks."

"Can you meet me out at Camberwell market? There are a few op shops there, and they have some really nice dresses, and considering you're going to be my plus one maybe I could help choose the dress," she chuckled, "sorry, that was a bit too forward even for me."

I hesitated before agreeing.

"Okay, I'll send you a text when I'm about to take a break."

I know it was because I was meeting Lamara that I chose the outfit I did that next day, a dark grey trouser suit and chocolate-coloured blouse. To make it clear, I wasn't trying to out dress her, it was just that I wanted to fit into her world even if it was just on the surface.

***

Camberwell is an old suburb not far from the city and famed for its terrace style houses and cosy front yards. My parents remember back when they were kids and middle class families would sit on the front porch with their beers and cups of teas. These days it's become decidedly more expensive, you'd have to be earning a pretty penny to buy a house here. I met Lamara in a café on Burke Road. It must have been her day off because she wasn't wearing office attire judging by the red, designer overalls over a short-sleeved white blouse, the overalls were actually shorts and she'd accessorised with a gold-weave belt.

"How's my new girlfriend?" Lamara reached out and fingered the collar of my blouse, now that's an improvement."

"It is?" I glanced down at her hand, "to be honest I wasn't thinking about it."

"Never bullshit a bullshitter," she chuckled, "so, how long have I got you for?"

"About forty five minutes," I replied, "I've got to see a potential witness."

"Is it about that case or a different one?"

"The same case," I replied, "I still haven't heard back from the boss about helping Mylene out, I'm not even sure they're going to use her testimony in court but she's certainly helped out."

"It's all right, I understand," Lamara eyed the board behind the counter.

"To be honest I wasn't even sure about how much help she'd be and God knows she tends to be her own worst enemy."

"How is she?" I asked.

"So so," she glanced at me, "all right, executive decision, we get takeaway coffees and walk and talk, what're you having?"

"Latte," I put my hand into my handbag.

"I'll bet you can't say that in French," she slapped my wrist, "sorry, bad joke and get your hand out of there, it's my shout."

Some ten minutes later we were wandering into the shopping centre with our coffees, I was feeling a little embarrassed that I hadn't been able to help Mylene but Lamara's attitude had taken some of the sting out of it. She seemed quite lackadaisical as we headed for a store I knew would be selling more expensive dresses but I was too much under her spell to argue and I tried on all the dresses she selected. It occurred to me that I was doing something that felt unnatural, don't get me wrong I had a sense of style but I was not a girlie girl.

"I like this one," I finally plucked a beige off the shoulder number with a sash belt, "but it almost seems too," I paused.

"Feminine?" Lamara nudged me.

"That's the word I always stumble over."

"It's a word that is often misunderstood," she pursed her lips, "even Helena has a feminine side, I only met her a couple of times because she was best friends with the woman who's getting married in a week but I noticed she modified her outfit every time she saw me. It's like she was trying to fit into my world by buying similar clothes and it's so not me, be you not me."

I took that throwaway line home with me, along with the dress. It was the clearest sign yet that she was questioning something, I just didn't know how far she wanted to go and to be honest I was quite willing to let it remain in the fantasy world. I had amassed quite a few fantasies about her and they were vivid enough. Slowly but surely I was being drawn deeper into her world and as a result I was beginning to undergo my own changes.

To be continued...