From Another Place Ch. 03

The next day I followed Tim to work as usual, taking up my position in the corner of his office. I was determined to make a real start on my assigned task, and I took opportunities where I could – switching pages between documents when he left his desk, deleting one or two unread emails.

My interference soon paid off, and Tim spoke sharply to his secretary about the mixed-up documents. Towards the end of the day he took a phone call, and I saw him struggle with his anger as he insisted that he'd received no such email, so how could he be expected to respond?

By the time he reached home, I was sitting in the living room, and I heard the door slam, then his dispirited footsteps in the hall.

"Hi, Amy," he said in a tired voice. "How was your day?"

"Pretty good – I think I'm making progress. You?"

He shook his head. "You know you have those days when nothing seems to go quite right? I'm really beginning to wonder if the job's getting on top of me."

"Are you sure you're not coming down with something?" I asked. "Maybe you should see the doctor. Or maybe a break would help, to away from it all for a bit."

He brightened, and I inwardly cursed my big mouth.

"Sally will be here at the weekend," he said. "I'm looking forward to that."

He smiled at me. "How about I try and cook that Chinese you did for us last week? You can tell me if I'm going wrong."

"Sure, that'd be great." We went through into the kitchen, and Tim busied himself preparing the ingredients. Soon the pans were sizzling on the stove, and he grinned at me. "I think I did OK there."

We sat down to eat, and I saw Tim relax visibly. "That's better," he said. "And Amy?"

"Hmm?"

"I really appreciate having you here – I'm enjoying the company."

"I'm glad," I said, inwardly wondering if my plan – getting close to him in order to have the best opportunity for troublemaking – had been a big mistake.

We finished eating, and Tim said, "I'll probably feel better for an early night. You're welcome to stay up for a while if you like."

He went upstairs, and I sat down on the sofa, looking out into the clear night. I almost imagined that I could heard the music the stars made as they turned in their courses, the melody that had been the constant backdrop to my life until...

I shook my head. Wasn't it better to be on the winning side? Despite Tim's unexpected resilience today, these human creatures were weak, easily distracted. It usually took only the slightest touch to turn them from pursuit of the good, direct them to the easy way out.

I climbed the stairs to my room, and checked on Tim. He was asleep, the anxieties and frustrations of the day fading instead of whirling in his mind as I'd hoped.

"Well, there's always tomorrow," I said to myself.

Over the next few days, though, my plans came to nothing. Despite my interference, Tim's company was awarded the contract he'd been working on, and he was in meetings most of the time, making plans, agreeing the details. Each evening he arrived home tired but more optimistic.

Suddenly it was Friday evening, and Tim grinned at me across the kitchen table. "Sally should be here soon. I've got a surprise planned for both of you this weekend."

As if on cue, I heard a key in the door, and then footsteps. Tim got up from his seat, and as Sally came through the doorway he hugged her, lifting her off her feet.

"Oof, steady, Dad," she said, breathlessly. She glanced across the room and I felt suddenly uncomfortable at meeting this young woman again.

"Hi, Sally," I said.

She smiled uncertainly. "Hi, Amy. It's been a while."

I nodded. "Did Tim tell you? I got a job back here, 'fraid I can't really talk about it."

She nodded, sitting down opposite me. "You'll have to tell me what you've been up to since school. College is great." And she launched into an account of her classes, her friends, their parties.

Tim grinned. "Slow down, Sally. We have all weekend to talk, and I bet you're hungry. I thought I'd order pizza for us – Amy goes for the same stuff as me, but I can get you your favourite too, and extra pineapple."

"Great," said Sally. Tim went out into the hall to phone, and she turned to me. I felt a brief struggle in her thoughts, then she smiled warmly. "It's good to see you again, Amy. I know we seemed to get into a lot of scrapes at school... But after all, we were a lot younger then. And now look at you – working already! I know this is going to be a great weekend, especially if Dad's got a surprise for us – he's good at those."

Damn, I thought to myself. Granted it would be useful to have her trust, especially if this job was going to take longer than I'd thought. But it would have been easier in some ways if she'd settled for cool politeness, barely hiding her suspicions that the girl she'd know at school – always just avoiding serious trouble – must have some hidden agenda in seeking out her father.

Damn these humans and their capacity for... grace. There. I'd said it. Somehow the word burned in my mind, a searing ache, and at the same time seemed to offer – what? Hope? Peace?

I dragged myself back to the present. "Yes, Tim mentioned a surprise. I don't have any idea what, though."

"And I'm not going to let you tease me for hints," said Tim, coming through the door just as I finished my sentence.

"Pizza'll be here in a minute," he continued. "Anyone want a drink?"

I nodded. "I'd love a vodka on the rocks, like you made me the other night."

Sally raised her eyebrows. "That sounds tempting," she said. "Yes please, Dad."

Tim made our drinks, and we went through to the living room. "So what have you been doing since you moved, Amy?" Sally asked.

I began my carefully-fabricated story. "Well, I finished school of course, but I wanted a break before college so I travelled – the usual places, South America, Australia, the Far East." "Wow," said Sally. "That must have been amazing."

I nodded. "I discovered I have an ear for languages, that made it really easy for me to get along. When I came back, I decided to take a course, get to grips properly with a couple of the languages I'd started."

"Of course by then the security situation had changed," – I carefully didn't say exactly which security situation – "and I was approached at the end of the course to take on this job. When they told me I'd be based back here, of course I thought of you, and running into Tim when I arrived was pure serendipity."

I stopped, watching their expressions to see if my mixture of truth and blatant fabrication had convinced them.

Tim nodded. "Well, you can count on whatever help you need from us, Amy."

Just then there was a knock on the door, and Tim got up to fetch the pizza. He returned with the boxes, lifting the lids in turn until he found Sally's.

"Here you go," he said. "Sure you don't want just a sprinkle of something hotter? I have some chilli powder."

Sally made a face at his teasing and took a bite of her pizza. "It's perfect as it is."

I opened my box and started to eat, the jalapenos providing the heat I craved.

When we'd finished our meal, Tim said, "Well, I'm ready for bed, don't know about you two."

Sally nodded. "Come on, Amy. You can tell me more about your travelling."

We went upstairs, and Sally said, "You can have the bathroom first – I have to unpack a couple of things."

I went through into the en-suite, grateful that the arrangements still allowed me the privacy I needed. I thought for a moment, then shifted my dress into a long t-shirt. I splashed water on my face, flushed the toilet, and went back out.

"That was quick," said Sally, smiling. "Dad put in the en-suite because he said I always took ages in the bathroom."

She passed me, closing the door behind her, and I sat down on the bed, trying to think what my strategy should be for the weekend. I could have lifted the details of Tim's surprise from his mind, but somehow I'd held back, telling myself that my reaction would be more convincing if I waited to hear it from him.

Sally emerged from the bathroom in a t-shirt almost identical to mine, though with a cartoon character on the front. She saw my glance and grinned. "I know, it's not exactly the sexiest of nightwear, but I've always like the Disney stuff since I was a little girl."

She indicated the bed. "Which side do you prefer?"

I shrugged. "You can have the side nearest the bathroom – I don't usually have to get up in the night to pee."

Sally got into bed, and I hesitantly slid in beside her. She pulled the covers over us and turned out the light.

"Now," she said, the anticipation obvious in her voice, "tell me everything – all the stuff Dad doesn't need to hear."

I thought rapidly, trying to decide which of my experiences would fit with the story I'd told, and would paint a picture of a young woman continuing to indulge her rebellious streak, without pushing too far the boundaries of what Sally – with her conservative upbringing - would be able to accept.

"Well, I've had boyfriends, of course. One guy I met travelling – " I pictured Raoul's face in my mind – "he was a great kisser."

Sally giggled. "And did you... you know?"

"Sure," I said.

"What's it like?" asked Sally tentatively.

"You mean you haven't...?"

I sensed Sally blushing. "Well, of course I've fooled around – for God's sake don't tell Dad – but no, not all the way."

I suppressed a flinch at her casual use of that word, filing away what she'd confided in me for when it might be useful.

"I guess it's different for everyone," I said. "The important thing is to find out what you both like – don't assume anything's off limits, if it feels good then go for it."

I thought back to the time I'd spent with Raoul. Of course, my ability to sense his thoughts and feelings had given me an unfair advantage – it had been almost disappointingly easy to seduce him, then betray him, leave his relationship with his wife in ruins.

I could tell that Sally wasn't completely convinced by my casual attitude. "Has there ever been anyone, you know, special – who you've thought about staying with?" "Not really," I said. "But maybe you're right – maybe one day soon my prince will come riding in and carry me off." I thought back to Sally's fixation with Disney, and I could tell without even reading her mind, the images that my words conjured up.

I felt her becoming drowsy, and she turned over. "Well, g'night, Amy. Sleep well."

"You too," I said. I turned my attention to Tim, finding him already asleep, his mind filled with anticipation of the next day's surprise.

The next morning, Sally stirred, blinking sleepily. "Hi, Amy. Did you sleep OK?"

I nodded. "You?"

"Definitely. I had all sorts of strange dreams though – you know, those ones where you want to call out, to tell someone something, or to warn them, but your voice just doesn't seem to work."

"Strange," I said. "Don't think I've ever had one quite like that."

Sally bounced out of bed. "Let's go downstairs – Dad will have to tell us what our surprise is now."

I did my best to imitate her enthusiasm, and followed her as she dashed downstairs.

Tim was sitting at the kitchen table. "Morning, sleepyheads," he grinned. "So you want to know what we're doing today?"

"Please," said Sally breathlessly.

"So here's the deal. I booked a day at the spa, the full works – swimming, sauna, massage, makeup." At first Sally's face lit up, then she looked anxious. "You're not going to tag along with us through all that, are you, Dad?"

Tim grinned, shaking his head. "I know when I'm not wanted. Actually, I've arranged a couple of rounds of golf with the chairman of our new client – there's a course at the hotel. We'll join you for lunch, but apart from that I'll stay out of your hair."

Sally wrapped her arms round him and kissed him. "Thanks, Dad. I'm sure Amy and I will have a wonderful time."

I managed a smile. "Definitely."

I pretended to think for a moment. "I don't really have a suitable costume, though, Tim – that yellow one I wore for the pool the other day is a bit skimpy."

I could see Sally looking at me, then at her father, but she obviously dismissed the thought. "That's fine – I have a spare."

"So, breakfast?" asked Tim.

"Just cereal for me, if we're swimming first," said Sally.

"Sounds good," I said. Tim fetched the box for us, and I watched as Sally poured milk into her bowl, then smiled, bending her head to listen to the cereal crackle.

When we'd finished breakfast, Sally said, "Come on – let's go upstairs and get our things. We can shower at the spa before we get into the pool."

We went up, and Sally opened a drawer. "Here," she said, "this should be OK."

I looked at the conservative one-piece swimsuit she held out, its dark colour almost guaranteeing that its wearer would fade into the background.

"Thanks, Sally," I smiled. "It's great."

We went back down, to find Tim loading his clubs into the boot of his car. "OK, you two, hop in."

Sally and I slid into the back seat, and Tim got behind the wheel. "We'll have to get you a chauffeur's cap," teased Sally.

The journey to the spa was only a few minutes, and Tim dropped us at the entrance, then drove off in the direction of the clubhouse.

Sally grinned. "Great – we're on our own. This is going to be brilliant!"

We went into the reception area, and Sally gave our names to the girl behind the desk.

She walked back to me with a slip of paper and a key. "OK, swim first. Sauna, then massage. Lunch at twelve – Dad's back for that with Mr Marshall, of course. Then after lunch we have a mud treatment, and the beauty suite."

"Sounds fantastic," I said. "OK, which way's the pool?"

Sally pointed, and we walked through into a tiled area, a hint of chlorine already in the air.

"Here are the lockers," pointed Sally. She started to undress, and I followed suit.

She glanced across at me. "You have amazing skin – how do you do it?" I resisted the temptation to give the answer we'd always used as a joke when I was between assignments – "immortality and brimstone" – and shrugged. "I guess I get it from my mother."

Sally nodded. "Well, maybe the mud pack will help mine. Come on, let's shower."

We showered quickly, then pulled on our swimming costumes and walked through to the pool area. Without hesitating, I executed a graceful dive into the water, surfacing and turning to look at Sally. She slipped in to the pool, and swam over to me.

"Not sure we're supposed to dive from the side," she said.

"OK," I smiled. "I'll remember. It was pretty good, though, wasn't it. Do you see that guy over there, looking in our direction? I'm sure he was watching."

Sally looked uncomfortable. "I guess."

She brightened. "You want to do some lengths?"

"OK."

We swam side by side for a while, and I was careful to imitate Sally's way of breathing between strokes, even though I didn't really need the oxygen.

After a few lengths, Sally said, "Want to race?"

I grinned. "OK – how about two lengths?"

She glanced at me. "Three, two, one, go!"

I pushed away, using a crawl stroke to take me through the water, and when I reached the other end, I did as I'd seen the professionals do, turning like a seal under the water and striking out in the other direction. I easily beat Sally, and she caught up with me, out of breath.

"Wow," she said. "You're pretty fit. Good job the sauna and the massage aren't competitive events."

Aren't they? I thought to myself. I had some ideas of my own about that.

Sally glanced at the clock. "Our session with the masseur is in about half an hour – just time to fit in the sauna and a dip in the plunge pool afterwards to cool down."

We got out of the pool and walked to the sauna room. No-one else was there, and I sprawled across the lowest bench while Sally sat opposite me.

"Do you want to throw the water on?" she said.

"Sure."

I scooped up a generous amount of water with the dipper and threw it over the hot stones. Clouds of steam rose, and Sally waved her hand, giggling. "You might have overdone it, Amy."

I leaned back on the bench, enjoying the heat. I glanced across at Sally, seeing her perspiring freely. I wondered if she'd notice that I didn't seem to be sweating, but she had her eyes closed.

After a few minutes she stretched. "Wow, that really feels good. A little more steam?"

I threw more water on, though not as much as previously, and changed position.

"Phew," said Sally after a few more minutes, "I think that's about as much as I can stand. You ready to cool down?"

"Sure," I said. Sally opened the door, and I could see goosebumps on her skin as the cooler air touched her. I followed her, and we slipped into the plunge pool together.

"Brrr!" she said. "That's a real jolt to the system."

She climbed out of the pool. "Right – time for a massage."

We picked up towels from a stack, and dried ourselves as we walked towards the massage room. When Sally opened the door, the masseur looked up from the clipboard he was holding.

"Sally and Amy, right?" he said. Sally nodded.

"Good to see you. I'm John, I'll be working you over today," he grinned. "So who's first?"

"You go ahead, Sally," I said.

"OK," said John. "Let's start off with you face down."

Sally took up the indicated position on the table, and I watched as John started to knead her muscles, gently at first, then digging deeper.

"Wow," said Sally, "that really feels good."

John smiled, and began to work his way down her spine, his thumbs pressing in on either side. "That'll deal with some of the tension." He reached the bottom of her spine. "OK, time to turn over."

As he began to massage Sally's upper arms, I reached into his mind, finding what I'd expected – a mixture of professional concentration with carefully-controlled pleasure at the opportunity to be so close to an attractive young woman.

He moved down to Sally's feet, and she squirmed a little as he massaged her soles. "I find most people are ticklish there," he grinned.

He stepped back. "OK, you're done. Amy's turn."

I changed places with Sally, resting my cheek on my hands, and relaxed as I felt strong hands begin to touch me. I opened myself to John's thoughts, anticipating every move, and I heard the smile in his voice as he said, "You make a pretty good subject, Amy, you seem to know what I'm going to do next."

He took his time, and when he started at the top of my back I shifted slightly to straighten my spine. He worked his way down, and I willed him to travel just a little lower.

"OK," he said. "Time to turn over."

I grinned, and turned onto my back. He started to massage my upper arms, but I could sense that his attention was elsewhere on my body.

"I bet you enjoy your job," I said.

He nodded. "It's always good when clients leave more relaxed than when they came. I do physiotherapy, too, if you'd be interested."

He continued massaging me, ending up at my feet. I grinned when he touched my soles. "That's nice – I don't think I'm ticklish, actually."

I felt his regret as he stepped back. "Well, that's it, I'm afraid. Hope you enjoy your lunch."

As we made our way back to the changing room, I could sense Sally's mixed feelings as she spoke. "He was a bit of a hunk, wasn't he. But I could see you flirting with him – I wasn't sure about that."

I shrugged. "He enjoyed himself too. No harm done, and maybe he'll leave his number at the desk for me to pick up when we leave."

Sally's eyes betrayed her shock, but she smiled. "I guess."

We got dressed, and walked back to the reception area. Tim was standing there with an older man in expensive golfing clothes.

"Mr Marshall, this is my daughter Sally, and her friend Amy," he introduced us.

"Good to meet you, girls. Call me Bob."