Elizabeth 04: Late Summer (Part 2)

"That is part of the idea," Elizabeth said. "If our relationships are not strong enough to withstand ideas that have been lurking in all our minds, it is best that we learn of it now."

"Well said," Irene agreed. Then she grinned. "All of our minds?"

"I must confess, Irene, ever since Agnes spilled the beans, I have been imagining you with one hand in Benjamin's bush and one in mine."

Irene laughed again, but now it was a nervous laugh. "I am ever so humiliated at all that."

"There is no need to be," Elizabeth reassured her. Stepping back, she gathered her skirt up around her hips and stood facing her friend. "If you would care to practice a bit, you are most welcome," she said with the salacious grin she usually reserved for Jonathan.

"Elizabeth!" Irene exclaimed in a husky whisper, looking at the door.

"I locked it, didn't I?" Elizabeth reminded her.

Irene was torn; Elizabeth could see that, but she did not let her skirt back down.

Reluctantly at first, as if she were struggling to keep her hands at her side, Irene reached out. She looked her friend in the eye as if to ask was she quite sure. Seeing nothing but welcome in her face, Irene placed her hands on Elizabeth's hips and slid her panties down. Then, as if handling a delicate treasure, she reached her right hand into her bush. Lush and thick as ever, it was a bit matted from the panties, but Irene's touch had the hair fluffed back to its normal prominence in no time. Her fingers felt electrified with nervous delight as they frolicked at last in her friend's vast bush, and her titillation only grew as Elizabeth began to shake and laugh at her touch. "Is it too much?" Irene asked.

"Not at all!" Elizabeth said. "It's perfectly delightful! I may well need to tickle myself as well after you've gone, though; you're making me quite eager!"

Irene let her fingers dance all the way down to Elizabeth's cleft, and she found it was wet to the touch. She had little doubt that her own pussy was similarly lubricated by then, and the thought of lowering her trousers to let Elizabeth return the favour crossed her mind. But that seemed a bridge too far just yet, and so Irene contented herself with tickling Elizabeth's bush for the moment.

When she had Elizabeth squirming so much she was nearly feeling guilty, Irene forced herself to stop. Reverently she pulled Elizabeth's panties back up with both hands, amused at the idea of trying in vain to cover all her hair with the thin swath of fabric. "It's a good job you don't care about these not covering everything," she told Elizabeth.

"I do care about that, actually," Elizabeth confessed, adjusting them slightly before she let her skirt down at last. "But Jonathan doesn't seem to mind, so I accept it."

"Jonathan is a lucky guy," Irene said, leaning in to kiss Elizabeth's cheek. "Thank you for...this."

Irene found she needed to visit the water closet before she left the building; but it was not only to make water. In the makeshift privacy the stall offered, she quickly brought herself to an intense orgasm. She would have been more titillated still to know that Elizabeth was similarly engaged in the privacy of her still-locked office at precisely the same time.

Having still not heard directly from Benjamin, Irene took the bull by the horns and rang his doorbell that evening with a single red rose and a bottle of wine in her hand. He looked neither surprised nor angry when he opened the door.

"Come in," he said with a cordial smile. After shutting the door, he accepted the rose with a thank-you and went to the cupboard for a vase. "It's nice to see you again," he said, not unkindly.

"I understand Agnes has apologized to you," Irene said.

"Yes, and I have accepted. That goes for you, too, but I do wish we could have discussed all this beforehand."

"It was absolutely unplanned," Irene told him. "At least by me. I now know Agnes had been interested in an encounter for some time."

"Ever since you taught her to please herself."

"Evidently. Benjamin, I'm sorry I didn't tell you of that encounter either, but I assure you, on that occasion I never touched Agnes or Elizabeth."

Benjamin smiled for the first time. "But you wanted to touch Elizabeth. And me. At once."

"You've heard, I see," Irene said. "Little point in trying to keep secrets among our friends anymore, is there?"

"I must admit, Irene, I rather liked the idea myself when I heard it."

"So did Elizabeth," Irene said. "Speaking of whom, I should probably tell you, we had a bit of a tryst at her office today. I hope that's okay. I figured, since we are planning on that outing anyway..."

"Perfectly okay, I assure you," Benjamin said, though he looked less than delighted. "On one condition."

"You wish to have your turn with her as well, I suppose," Irene said.

"I love you dearly, Irene," Benjamin said. "But as we both acknowledged on that occasion at the hotel, Elizabeth and I do have a unique bond."

"I could not agree more," Irene said. "And yes, of course it is all right with me. It is only fair, after all."

Benjamin had settled himself on his bed by then. "But tell me one thing, Irene," he said. "Knowing what you now know about your interest in women as well as men, are you quite sure you love me?"

"Certain," Irene said. "Elizabeth and Agnes are friends – close friends, but only friends, just like Jonathan is. You have never been insecure about my friendship with him, have you?"

"He is your cousin," Benjamin reminded her.

Irene burst into embarrassed laughter. "Quite right. But yes, Benjamin. What I did with Agnes and Elizabeth was good fun, perhaps satisfying because it was finally being honest with myself about a matter that has eaten at me since I first started noticing boys. I started noticing girls, too, but I always told myself it wasn't really so. I now see it was. But it is you I love, and that is so much more than just good fun."

"I believe you," Benjamin said. But he made no move to act upon his declaration.

That evening, Benjamin made dinner for Irene and they shared her wine, and talked late into the evening. They talked of their past several months together, and of the future, and of life beyond Westfordshire City and where it might take one or both of them. But he never even touched her, and she followed his lead and kept to her side of the table as well. At half past ten, with the wine long gone, Irene was growing tired and she sensed she would not be welcome to stay the night. Masking her regret behind a smile, she stood up. "I guess I ought to be going home," she said with a forced smile. "Thank you for dinner."

Benjamin stood up. "It was my pleasure, Irene. I'll look forward to seeing you on...Saturday? Have they set a date for the outing?"

"I don't know. I guess I'll see you whenever the date is."

"Wonderful, then. Good night."

"Good night, Benjamin."

And neither of them made any attempt to contact the other for the remainder of that week.

With all five of us in favour of her proposal, Elizabeth lost no time in making plans for our weekend by the sea. An awkward but pleasant reunion with Irene and myself at the baths later that week confirmed that we all needed some time together in a safe place all our own. Although Irene and I got along fairly well, her news of the rocky reconciliation with Benjamin was unwelcome news. "I am so very sorry to hear of all this," Elizabeth told her gently after a recounting of it all. We were huddled together in one corner of the pool, just out of earshot of the boisterous regulars at the other end.

"Thank you, but perhaps it is just as well," Irene said. "Perhaps a line has been crossed." Irene then turned to me to see I was gazing apologetically at her, with no desire at that moment but to comfort my friend in any way I could. "I do not blame you, Agnes, I assure you. It does take two, after all."

"I suppose so," I concurred. "But I still feel horribly guilty over it all."

"You shouldn't."

"But I do."

Elizabeth cut in. "And that is exactly why we need to get out of the city for a bit, now isn't it? To work all these things out among us all?"

"I do miss how perfectly comfortable things were," Irene admitted. "That in-the-baths feeling, it's gone, even here in the baths, and I can only hope we can reclaim it."

"Is it really, though?" I asked, wading out a bit into the water so they both had a better view of my body. I was rewarded with admiring looks from both of my friends.

"Ah, I can hardly wait to have some gentle fun with you," Elizabeth said. "But I do hope you realize this could change things between us."

"Things already have changed," Irene said. "Like it or not."

We were set to leave on Saturday. There was one order of business before then: Alexandria was off to school on Friday. On Thursday evening, Uncle asked Elizabeth and me for a word in his study. This, of course, afforded us a marvellous opportunity to test our theory regarding Alexandria's eavesdropping. However, neither of us broached that subject immediately as Uncle poured three glasses of whiskey for us, accompanying the gesture as usual with an expression of amazement at how women could drink like men these days. "I can cut yours with water if you'd prefer, Agnes," he said. There was no need to ask Elizabeth; he knew she took her drinks straight.

"That won't be necessary, thank you," I told him, accepting the glass from him. Then, as brazenly as I dared, I said, "I take it this concerns Alexandria?" I looked up at the vent near the ceiling, and saw Elizabeth doing the same.

"Indeed it does," Uncle said, sitting down at his desk and nodding at us to have a seat in the chairs before him. "I suspect I owe one or both of you an apology. I do not know what my daughter may have told either of you, but judging from the scuttlebutt I have been able to piece together from my other children and their nurse, she has been most ungracious towards all your efforts to soothe her apprehension regarding her departure for school. I had hoped you would be able to reach her in a way her mother and I could not, one young woman to another. But I suppose I underestimated her determination to be miserable. She is her mother's daughter in that regard, I am afraid."

Elizabeth was, as usual, both gracious and in control of the situation. With another knowing glance at the vent, she said, "There is no need to apologize. In all sincerity, it may well be for the best that Alex brings her current attitude to school with her."

"What on earth do you mean?" Uncle asked. I silently wondered the same – for the moment.

"Well," Elizabeth began, "As you know, I was also sent off to boarding school at her age. I was not world-weary like Alexandria, though. I was a naïve little girl who anticipated a lovely time at school rather than the harsh, cold reality that greets new students upon their arrival. Now, as you may already be aware, sir, I was bullied relentlessly at school."

"How would I know that?" Uncle asked. I must credit him with betraying no indication that he did know.

"Perhaps I should apologize to you now," Elizabeth continued gingerly, "But I have found that rumours often reach the wrong ears in this house, and some of your business associates have known me right well at one time or another. You are, of course, too much of a gentleman to comment on such things, and I thank you for that; but I have no way of knowing which of my secrets may have reached your ears."

"I confess that I have received information that ought not be repeated in polite company," Uncle replied. "But I have heard of nothing that might have inspired bullying in your younger years. In any event, your private life is none of my business and I have always made every effort to treat it as such."

"Yes, thank you," Elizabeth acknowledged. "As I was saying, then, I was bullied horribly at school. I am afraid the fact that I had anticipated such a lovely time only made reality all the worse to cope with. Had I been expecting a horrible time as little Alex is, well, I should at least have not been disappointed!" She allowed a mild laugh, as we both hoped Alexandria was listening in. "She expects the worst, clearly, so at the very least what she does find will be no worse than her expectations."

"At best, perhaps she will be among the bullies," I added.

"Why should that be best?" Uncle asked.

"It is very much in keeping with her attitude of late, is it not?" Elizabeth suggested.

"Quite," Uncle admitted. "She has certainly succeeded in spreading her misery here, has she not? Why should we keep such things all to ourselves here at home?"

By now we were all laughing. "And she is quite good at it, isn't she?" I said.

"I knew a bully or two myself in my time," Uncle said. "Perhaps it is best that she gets it out of her system early on. I can only hope she will grow out of it; we have all done all we could to help, haven't we?"

We clinked glasses and drank up. Just as Elizabeth and I were taking our leave, Uncle had one more question. "I say, Elizabeth, just what was the cause of the bullying you suffered? I cannot think of anything sufficiently unusual about you that I have ever been aware of."

Elizabeth had, I knew, long anticipated and dreaded Uncle broaching that subject. But she handled it beautifully: "It is something the loose-lipped young men who know me might have mentioned to you. If they have not, I assure you it is not something you wish to hear."

"Quite right," Uncle agreed, betraying not whether he was aware of her reference. "But do tell me, is it something Alexandria can also expect?"

"I doubt it," Elizabeth said. "She has never given me any indication that she knows or loves herself in the way I did before the other girls discovered my secret."

"I see," said Uncle, though I suspected he did not.

Once Elizabeth and I were safely away on the stair, I asked, "Just what did you mean about knowing and loving yourself?"

Elizabeth looked around to be sure we were alone. Quietly she explained, "I used to love knowing how different I was, before the girls at school made me feel so hideous about it. I would be willing to predict Benjamin would tell you the same about himself. Alex has never – and recall, I have known her since well before she was old enough for this to be an issue at all – she has never given me any indication that she has any such fondness for her own body. It's sad, really, and you are probably correct that it will inspire her to be a bully. But at least you and I can say we tried to instil a better attitude in her."

"Do you think she was listening to our conversation?" I asked.

"Every word, I hope," Elizabeth said.

The next morning, we discovered that she most probably had been listening. Appearing late at breakfast in her best frock, her hair tied back so tightly it looked painful, she gave every indication of having been in tears quite recently; but her eyes were now dry. After a cursory greeting to her parents, she strode to the corner table where Elizabeth and I were enjoying our tea and fruit. We looked up, speechless, as she approached.

"Agnes? Elizabeth? I owe you both an apology."

"Well, yes, Alexandria, you do," Elizabeth said in a polite but firm tone. "But it's good of you to acknowledge as much. I do hope you also apologize to your father for listening to his private conversations."

Alexandria's eyes grew wide as saucers. "You knew I was..."

"We made an educated guess," I said. "But that does not mean we didn't really mean every word we said about you last night."

"You are a first-rate bully, Alexandria," Elizabeth said. "But you also have it entirely in your power to change that if you do not like it, you know."

"That is why I came to apologize to you," Alexandria admitted. "I see now that I bullied you, and that is not what I wish to be known for in my new life, however it may be for me from now on." Now her eyes grew moist. "I promise you, Elizabeth, I will never bully any girl at school, whatever I may think of the lot of them. I will prove to you that I can change."

"Well, that's wonderful," Elizabeth said. She reached out and gave Alexandria's hand a squeeze. "I forgive you." Alexandria looked hopeful that Elizabeth or I might stand up and embrace her; but neither of us was feeling that much forgiveness. "I think you will find, if you can keep this new attitude of yours, you will enjoy school a lot more than you think you will, you know," Elizabeth added.

"Thank you, and I will try!" Alexandria promised, smiling through her disappointment that we remained seated. "I promise." She turned to join her parents at their table, then reconsidered. "One last question, Elizabeth, since you know I heard everything last night anyway, and I do want to know how to avoid subjecting anyone to the abuse you suffered...just what was it you would not tell Father, that you were bullied over?"

"That is no more your business than his," Elizabeth told her. "But I shall tell you this: you will be living in close proximity to your schoolmates, with limited privacy, and you are likely to be seeing one another in various states of undress now and then. Remember that we are all different in one way or another, and differences can be hard to hide when you are in the nude. No one deserves to be subjected to abuse over the natural state of her body."

Alexandria looked Elizabeth up and down, clearly in a state of desperate curiosity as to just what she referred to. But she said only, "Thank you, I shall remember that," and then she was off.

"Then she doesn't know after all," I said.

"Or she only wanted to hear me say, 'Who, me? Oh, I have a hairy pussy,'" Elizabeth said, so quietly I had to lean in to hear her; and then we both burst into naughty laughter.

Elizabeth and I were off to the office shortly afterward, and so were spared any long goodbyes for Alexandria. This was most definitely a relief, for although we appreciated her apology, neither of us was terribly sorry to see her go. She would be home in four months for Christmas in any event, and, Elizabeth predicted, "Rather a sadder but wiser girl then. If so, then I shall be able to forgive her completely."

"How will you know she is sincere, though?" I asked. "She could be bullying the fat girl or the short girl or the hairy girl and we would never know if she tells you the right thing when she gets home."

"A true bully doesn't have the shame to hide it," Elizabeth replied. "Believe me, we will know."

I was not persuaded, but I did not care to argue with Elizabeth about a topic she knew so intimately and painfully.

Elizabeth spent that night at Jonathan's flat, so I was on my own for the journey to the train station the next morning. It was a hazy late summer day, perfect weather for a trip to the seashore, and I was fairly bursting with anticipation of what was to come. But I also felt a touch of melancholy as the streetcar approached the station, for reasons I could not quite place. As the station grew into view, I realized exactly why; but I smiled through my unpleasant realization until I found my friends waiting on the platform.

Irene and Benjamin were holding hands chastely, but looking cheerful at least. Elizabeth and Jonathan were, of course, as tight as ever. "Good morning," they all chorused. "Ready for the holiday of a lifetime?" Benjamin asked, somewhat to my surprise.

"I certainly am," I said. Then, since Benjamin seemed not to mind, I whispered in his ear, "Can't wait to see you naked, dear."

"Nor I you," he said, and I was rewarded with a sultry grin. Irene did not ask what we had said; perhaps she had guessed it.

"Are you okay, Agnes?" Elizabeth asked. Leave it to her to see through my brave face!

"Oh, I'm wonderful," I said. "It is only...I just realized on the way here, the last time we were all at the train station together..."