Eve & Lucy Ch. 04: Rehearsals

I take a dose of Churchill's Marlene for steel, and add Webster's Duchess for status: she will not speak down to me. I mix in the constant quiet rage that my father bequeathed me and bring it all to a low simmer.

I sit up straight.

"I am not questioning your expertise Lucy," the temporary me enunciates carefully, like a knife thrower, "but encouraging victims to come forward is not the only, or indeed the principal, purpose of those videos. The main aim must and should be to prevent rapes from occuring in the first place." I glower at her.

To my amazement, she wilts slightly. "Well, yes, I -"

I bully over her. "Those videos will not only educate young women on the various forms sexual assault and rape can take, but most importantly, also educate young men. Furthermore, do not discount the emotional impact of viewing them: I was there, and the male actors were deeply emotionally affected. The best way to stop rape is to persuade people not to do it. These videos are powerfully persuasive."

"Of course, you're right." She's leaning forward nodding. But I'm not done.

"Besides, to be blunt, Lucy, you do not own those videos. We have signed no agreement. There is nothing to prevent me from putting those online tomorrow if I so wished. Which is exactly what I will do, unless I get explicit, written assurances of when and how you will release them." I glare at her. Her jaw has dropped. "I agree that increasing rape convictions is important - and indeed these videos may help combat the prejudices of future jury members - but surely you agree preventing rape in the first place is even more desirable. I understand that you will object that it is hard to quantify that: how do you measure something that hasn't taken place?"

I lean forward and cover her hand with mine. I soften my voice slightly. "I understand that as a civil servant you have to be concerned with numbers and data." I harden my voice again and tighten my grip. "But as a human being, you really fucking shouldn't. You should be concerned with people."

She actually gulps. "Yes, of course."

"I want an agreement detailing when and how these will be distributed by Monday. If I don't get one, or I'm not happy with the timetable, then they go live on Youtube, Tik Tok and Instagram on Monday."

She nods. "Got it."

I pat her hand gently, smile and lean back. "Good girl."

Her eyes flare at this. She chuckles. "Don't push it!"

I laugh back. "I'm, like, totally serious, Lucy, you know. I'll do it."

"I know, I know. Shit, you are quite the actress!" She takes a big gulp of wine and I notice her hand is actually shaking.

We're among the last in the restaurant when she finally pays the bill. She asks if I've got any change for a tip, and I realise that in my rush to get out of the door I left both my overnight bag and purse at home. All I've got with me is my phone.

"Well, I don't know about you, but I'm not quite ready to call it a night. Cocktails?"

"Like, sure."

We catch an uber down to some swanky place where for a change our outfits actually mean we blend in. We still get lots of attention, especially male attention, but Lucy keeps her hands on me as we sip our drinks.

"It's because you look so amazing, Amanda," she purrs to me, "if I wasn't here, these guys would be fighting each other to be with you. You are so hot!"

The wine is going to my head and I so I carefully nurse a mojito, which I asked to have topped up with soda water, while Lucy quickly necks two champagne cocktails, keeping up the constant flow of compliments. Perhaps it's because we're in public, in a space that is well out of my comfort zone, but for once her honeyed words aren't affecting me. Maybe we need to be more private.

"Lucy? Like, are you going to take me home?" I simper knowingly, giving her a look I've learnt she likes.

Her eyes flash at me as she nods in agreement.

We've barely got in the door to her flat, when she's dragging me into the bedroom. I stumble in the heels, discombobulated by the alcohol.

"God I want you!" she growls, as her hands slip behind my neck, tugging at the halter.

"Ulp! Ok!"

I try to unfasten her clothes, but she slaps my hands away. My dress falls from me, tangling my feet for a moment, and she shoves me, sending me sprawling onto the bed, pulling off my shoes and flinging them to the side.

She jumps on me, her lips sucking at my neck, her nails raking up my thigh. Fuck!

She snatches off my thong, roughly ripping it from me. The material snaps against my skin and I squeak in surprise, but she silences me with a kiss, hard and bruising, then flips me onto my front, straddling me. "I am going to fucking take you!" she snarls.

From under the pillow she pulls out the harness with the small strap-on she bought online. We'd tried it on Tuesday: in the missionary position it had been quite loving, and I'd enjoyed it, both of us staring into each other's eyes as she's brought me to a gentle climax. Being taken from behind really didn't have the same appeal.

I try to twist around, but her weight across my thighs makes this impossible.

"Lucy, I'm..." I begin, but then her fingers invade my mouth and I end up slobbering all over them.

She pulls them back and jams them painfully between my legs, as I gasp for breath.

"Ahhhh!" I cry out. "What are you doing?"

"Sorry, trying to lube you up. Hang on." She reaches under the pillow again, holding me down with her full weight. I start to panic and try to get my hands under me so I can push up and out, but then she's sitting up anyway and I feel a cold fluid dripping over the cleft of my bum, running over my anus to my labia. I freeze and flashback to Samantha's lecture: this is exactly the kind of thing that can cause thrush, something I've often struggled with.

I buck and writhe, crying out, "Wait! Wait!"

"Hold still, gorgeous." Lucy grips my bum, her thumb pressed up against my anus.

Something suddenly snaps in me, and the strength that had deserted me earlier returns with a vengeance. I twist and roll, throwing her to one side with a yelp, and then scramble round to the other side of the bed from her.

"No! Fuck right off! You are not going there!" I'm shaking, the buzz of the booze long gone.

"What? What are you talking about?"

"No, I am not into anal, Lucy."

"I wasn't..." She's no actress.

"Don't fucking lie to me!"

"Keep your voice down, Amanda."

"Why? Worried about your reputation? Worried neighbours might hear you sexually assaulting me?"

She burns red with anger. "Right, that's it. Get out."

"Oh, don't worry, I'm going."

I bend down to grab the dress.

"You can leave that." She hisses.

"What?" I'm in disbelief. She can't be serious.

"I paid for it. And the shoes."

"And I suppose you think you've paid for me too, do you?"

She doesn't answer, but crosses her arms and sneers at me.

"Fuck you Lucy." I stalk to the hallway, snatching up Sarah's coat from the floor, feeling the reassuring weight of my phone in the pocket. Pulling it on, I turn to her. The cold glare is still on her face but fuck you Lucy, I'm Eve, I've faced down God and the Devil, so I'm up to dealing with a domineering bitch like you. "You were just a fucking rebound anyway."

I slam the door behind me, stalk down the stairs and push out the front door. I am immediately hit by the cold. Shit, I should have stayed in the lobby.

I pull out my phone and the tears and fears I've been holding back finally burst forth.

Carrie

Without remembering waking up, I find myself on my feet with my phone at my ear.

"Mmmm? Who's it?"

"Carrie? It's me, Amanda? Sorry but... Can you come and get me please?"

The anguish in her voice cuts through me and jolts me fully awake.

"Of course. Where're you to?"

"Harbourside. I'll ping you a location."

"Are you ok? Are you hurt? Do you need an ambulance?" I stick her on loud speaker as I hurriedly tug on my gym gear and pull on my trainers.

"No, no, I'm..." I hear a sound like a stifled sob, "I'm ok. I just... I don't have any shoes. Sorry, I don't know why I called you. I'll get a taxi."

"No!" I shout. "I'll be there. It'll take 10 minutes. Stay on the line ok. Talk to me, tell me what happened." I grab the duvet from my bed - she'll be freezing - and thunder downstairs.

"Thank you!"

Gran puts her head out of her door, hair dishevelled.

"Carrie! It's midnight!"

"Sorry. Emergency!" I grab my keys and shut the door behind me. "I'm just getting in the car now. Where are you?"

"Near Millenium Square. Oh God, Carrie, it was so awful..." I can hear her crying. My heart aches for her. I clip my phone into the holder. The engine growls.

"10 minutes Amanda, 10 minutes, just hold on. Stay where it's well lit."

The squeal of the wheels drowns out her words. I go as fast as I dare. Narrow residential streets zoom past, twisting rat runs cutting out traffic lights.

"I'm on my way," I shout, "It's going to be ok."

"Thank you! Thank you!"

"Is there a bar open near you? Somewhere with people where you can wait safely?"

"Maybe... but I'm just in my coat."

Oh, fuck!

"Button it up, nobody will see." I turn onto the Portway and floor ir. Revs in the red, I race up the gears. The engine sings. There are a few cars ahead. I throw caution to the wind and duck into the bus lane to undertake them, flying past. I see a flash go off behind me. Fuck! Speed camera! The lights ahead are green, my teeth clenched. I'm roaring under the Suspension Bridge in the blink of an eye.

"I'm at the bridge Amanda, 5 minutes. Hold on!" I can barely hear her voice over the GT's thrum. "Can you get to Anchor Road?" I shout.

The lights ahead turn from green to amber. I blast past, wheels shrieking. I take the next corner at speed too, leaning into it. There's another burst of light behind me. Fuck, fuck, fuck. I force myself to ease off the gas and slow down. There's a 30 limit here: I was close to 70.

I hear somebody ask her if she's ok. Her voice sounds tearful as she replies, "yes, my best friend's coming."

"I'm nearly there!" I get through the next speed camera markers and floor it again. Racing up to the roundabout, I skid to a stop at the red light.

"I'm just at the roundabout with Anchor Road. I'll be there in two minutes. Where are you?" My legs are practically shaking as I keep the clutch biting, the engine purring.

"I'm on Anchor Road. I'm by the bus stop out the back of that Science place."

"Got ya." The light goes green. I release the clutch, shooting forward. There are a few taxis on the road. I hurtle past them. "I see the bus stop. Wave at me." I flash my lights and see a figure on my left waving her hands.

I indicate and pull in, jumping out of the car and rushing around to her. She throws herself at me, sobbing, burying her head in my neck, her hands clutching at me. "Thank you, thank you, thank you."

I bend, scoop her up in my arms, and carry her the few steps to the car. Her teeth are chattering and I can feel her shaking, whether with cold or fear or both I don't know. "It's ok, it's ok, it's ok," I murmur to her, managing to open the passenger side with a finger. "Come on, get in, you must be freezing."

I bundle her in, and she's reluctant to let go of me. "Here, wrap the duvet around your feet." I curse myself for not putting the heating on in the car on the way here and warming it up for her. I just didn't think. I shut the door and run back around.

"Thank you Carrie, thank you so much." She stutters out through trembling teeth. "Please, just take me home."

"Of course." I switch on the heater, check my mirrors and pull out. I take it much slower this time: I don't want a third ticket. Fuck, I wonder if I'll get points? "Um, do you want to talk about it?"

"I will... but, like, not now."

We drive in silence. I get the feeling she has turned inward on herself and I'm not sure she should be but I also don't feel I should be pushing. I cruise up Park St, thick with taxis, and past Wills.

As I swing round the Triangle and make the turn to head to Falmouth Place, Amanda comes back to herself. She looks around and then turns back to me.

"No, Carrie, please!" She sounds scared, desperate.

"What? What's the matter?" I can feel the fear radiating off her.

"Please. Take me home. Your home." She's almost begging.

Oh! It's so wrong but I can't help feeling a thrill at her words. I barely trust myself to speak, so I just nod and indicate right, past the Union. "Of course," I say, as neutrally as I can manage.

She sighs and I feel her relax, her tension easing. "Thank you Carrie." She slips her arm through mine and leans over to rest her head on my shoulder.

I drive carefully home, keeping the gear changes to a minimum so as not to dislodge her and trying to stop the joy in my soul from filling me with fantasies.

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Thanks for reading. Part 5 still to come. All comments gratefully received.