The Other Girls Pt. 01

The furious flapping of wings jolted Tara from her stupor. The bird on the windowsill outside her room was making its presence felt. It had more to do than her, she thought glumly as she rolled onto her side. The days were dragging by and she was starting to resign herself to the fact that this would be her summer.

As the holidays had loomed, the questions had come thick and fast: what were the pair of them going to do, were they flying home, did they have plans to go visit someone else... surely they wouldn't be stuck in this dump for two months? Tara had looked over at Fay and echoed her shake of the head. Their flatmates still didn't get it. It was only when the day arrived and they were running around packing that they saw the two girls sitting there, at a loose end, and realised they weren't kidding. Then came the sympathetic noises and attempts to cheer them up. The idea was to go out for a final drink, but that had become staying in for a final drink instead. By mid-afternoon they were gone, off to catch their various trains and buses, leaving the two rejects behind.

That was what came of being foreign scum, Tara mused. She and Fay had managed to scrape by the previous year in their halls, with all the other overseas students for company. But now they had a proper roof over their heads it was time for them to use it. She knew if she got desperately homesick she could always hop on the plane back over the Irish Sea, but she doubted her folks would welcome the sight of her. When she had left home the unspoken message was, this is your big opportunity over there -- make sure you see it through. She hadn't gone a million miles, so didn't feel out of her depth. Fay, however, had gone several thousand miles, and wouldn't see her family again for a long time. If she felt isolated she did a good job of hiding it, but Tara figured that was part of the Aussie charter that she had to live up to. You couldn't come all the way from Down Under and sit around moping, keeping yourself to yourself. People would think you were an impostor.

Life in the flat was just about bearable now that the building work next door had stopped. However, they hadn't taken their litter home with them for the summer. The path running up to the flat was a tip. Rubble, planks and loose sacks were scattered everywhere, frying slowly in the heat. Inside was only a little better. Some of the worst offenders had gone home to live like decent human beings for a while, but the pile of dishes they'd left behind had to be tackled in stages. It had crossed Tara's mind to clean the whole place from top to bottom in one mad burst of activity -- but she wasn't really a neat freak. Fay certainly wasn't.

Finally she stirred herself and climbed off the bed. She did have something to do today, exciting as it was. She picked up her glasses and slipped them on, smoothing back her long raven-coloured hair. Then she left her room and galumphed down the stairs, her sandals thudding into the wood. Fay was just visible through the living room door, lounging on the sofa. "You off out?" she yelled.

"Uh-huh. I won't be long." Tara picked up her bag and slung it over her shoulder.

"Well geez, take your time. You don't get to go the library every day -- oh no, you do..."

"They'll kill me if I have these out any longer. Besides, I've already got a list for next term."

"Have fun!" Her voice echoed into the hall as Tara crossed to the door.

"I'll get a few things on the way back. Maybe something good for dinner." There was a grunt of acknowledgement. She unlocked the door and stepped out, blinking in the sudden glare. Her pale complexion didn't agree with the sun, and she made fast tracks down the debris-strewn path onto the main road. The one good thing about their home from home was that the bus stop was only five minutes away. Moreover, it was shaded, which she was extremely glad of when she got there. She sat on the bench and drummed her feet on the ground, looking at the journey board. Bus stops were the only place in the world where time did not merely stand still but ran backwards.

She unzipped her bag and did a quick inventory. Everything was present and correct, except... she rummaged deeper and pulled out the very last book. Wasn't it...? She swore as she realised that she'd chucked the wrong thing in there by mistake. She was definitely no neat freak. Moreover, the board had come to life and was telling her that the bus would be here in two minutes. She looked back the way she had come. If she was five years younger and ten degrees cooler she would probably have legged it home and back again, and still been just in time. But since neither of those conditions was met, she was out of luck. With a sigh she hauled herself upright and began the return journey. This was the kind of day to avoid making three trips instead of one.

Unsurprisingly, the heat felt even stronger on the way back. Tara came round the corner mopping sweat and was relieved to see the rubbish tip for once. She hurried up the path and dived into the house, smacking the door shut. "Back again!" She dumped her bag at her feet and moved to the living room. "Brilliant, I managed to forget one...!" The door was slightly ajar and she pushed it open. Fay was sitting bolt upright on the couch, her legs pressed together. Her eyes peered out from under her messy, dark bob. "Sorry, did I make you jump?"

"No no, it's fine," she replied hastily. "Did you... I mean, you forgot one of your books, is that it?"

"Yeah. And the bus was due any minute, I'll have to wait for the next one. Typical!" Tara pulled the door closed again. As she did so, she suddenly took in Fay's appearance in detail. Her shirt was bunched up around her waist and the cut-off denim shorts that she was so fond of had a button undone at the top. More importantly, her laptop was pressed into the cushions to her left at a weird angle. The lid was mostly but not fully closed. Tara moved to the stairs and climbed them slowly, replaying that picture in her mind. Why had Fay been so nervous? By the time she got to the top she had a hunch. By the time she was searching for her missing book she was absolutely certain, and the book wasn't remotely important. Acting on autopilot, she dug it out and sat on her bed. A smile crept slowly over her face and stayed there, getting wider and wider.

She came down again and swapped the books over in her bag. The living room door was still and there wasn't a peep coming from inside. Tara was tempted to say something, but she thought better of it. Instead she called out, in a slightly knowing voice, "See you later...", and moved to the door. This time there was no acknowledgement from her flatmate. She headed for the bus stop again. Her trip had just got a lot more interesting, although she conceded that the most interesting part was happening out of her sight -- behind closed doors. You little dark horse... she mused silently.

The journey was a drag. It was one of those dead, lazy days where the heat kept most people indoors and crushed the energy of those who did venture out. Tara trudged to the library, hiked up the stairs and returned her overdue books. The place was virtually empty. She pulled out her list of required reading and began a circuit of the shelves. The air was still and heavy. The only thought running through her head was that Fay was having a much better time than her right now. She found a desk and slumped behind it. Focusing on her list was a chore. Instead, she dwelt on what was happening back at the flat -- and her imagination started to run riot.

When she turned the corner onto her street, she was amazed to realise that her heart was beating faster than normal. What did she expect to find when she got in? Deep down she knew it would be nothing, but she still took care when she opened the front door, rather than barging in like she had before. The hall was quiet, the door to the living room undisturbed. She crept over and pushed it open. Fay was lying on the couch, flicking through something on her laptop. She glanced up and smiled benignly. "Hey. Did you get what you needed?"

"Hmm? Oh, yeah. No problem." Tara paused. "What about you? Not up to any mischief?"

"Nah, I just sat here and melted a bit." Fay was obviously relaxed now that the moment had passed and she thought she'd got away with it. It occurred to Tara that that wasn't the best choice of words, given she hadn't committed a crime. Realising that she looked faintly disappointed, she gathered herself and tapped the door handle.

"Great. Anyway, I'm glad to be out of that sun." She put her bag down and knelt to unpack it. "It's scorching out there."

"Oh, what did you get at the shops?" Fay called out.

"What?"

"You know, you were getting something for dinner." Tara straightened up. Her eyes closed in despair.

"Oh, shit...!"

That night Tara lay flat out in bed, feeling the combined effects of her travels. Normally she would have drifted off quickly, even in this suffocating heat, but her mind was far too active to relax. She looked over at the bedroom door and her thoughts passed beyond it, to the room on the far side of the landing. She didn't even know what those thoughts were, but they were better than anything else she had going at the moment. Turning onto her side, she wrapped her legs around the thin blanket and dragged it closer, until it was bunched between her thighs. In that pose, she finally managed to get to sleep.

The next day dragged by interminably, and the night was no better. When Tara woke the following morning she was full of the urge to do something, to break out of this endless routine of eat, lounge and sleep. There was nothing on the horizon to excite her, nothing out of the ordinary, except...

She paced the room slowly, pondering the worst idea she had ever had. Now and then she caught her reflection in the mirror and shook her head, but she couldn't dislodge it. There was no real harm in it, her inner monologue insisted. The worst that could happen was that she looked like an idiot, and that was hardly new territory. The chances of her seeing anything were so remote -- and yet, while there was a chance, her curiosity was piqued. Fay hadn't really spent an hour lying back doing nothing, she knew it. She wanted to confirm her suspicions.

"I'm going into town this afternoon," she announced at their very late breakfast, with the clock already pushing eleven.

Fay stopped shovelling Rice Krispies into her mouth and looked up. "Oh yeah? You gonna hit the shops?"

"No, I'm just as skint as you. I thought I'd have a look round, while it's cooler out there. It's supposed to get much worse from tomorrow."

"Worse!" Fay laughed, putting down her spoon. "What, like thirty degrees? You lot have got no idea."

"All right," said Tara, her hands raised in defeat. "I forgot you never saw trees where you grew up. Anyway, I'm going to be out all afternoon." She pushed back her chair and stood up. "I'm not bringing anything back either."

"Be careful," Fay teased her. "Check before you go. Remember your glasses are right about..." She wiggled her finger and finally jabbed it in Tara's face. "There. It's easy to put them down somewhere." Tara gave her a caustic smile as she left the room. Secretly, she was glad of the jibe; it meant that Fay was nice and relaxed. She didn't harbour any more anxieties over the other day. There was every chance she would let her guard down.

Tara showered and changed, all the while feeling this huge cocktail of adrenaline building up inside her. It could be for no purpose whatsoever. But while the possibility remained, she was committed to it, no matter how stupid. When she was ready she made a beeline for the front door and left without bothering to say goodbye. She didn't want to drop the slightest hint about what she was doing. The only clue she did leave, and it wasn't obvious, was to put the door on the latch. She wanted to make a discreet return.

She walked out to be met by a grey, overcast sky, although the air was still warm and clammy. There were a dozen non-existent routes into town. Picking one at random, she set off at a slow crawl, looking at nothing except her feet dragging on the ground. Her mind was elsewhere. Specifically, she was performing a calculation that girls like her shouldn't sully their brains with. How long was long enough to get... distracted, and to start doing something about it?

There was no way that Fay would dive in after what had happened before. It would take her a few minutes, maybe half an hour, to feel safe. Even then, if she was in the mood she might bide her time if she thought she had the whole afternoon to play with. That phrase brought a smile to Tara's face. Somehow she didn't think Fay would wait once she did feel secure. How long had Tara been gone when she caught her by surprise? Ten minutes? Fifteen at the outside. She must be an impatient little horn dog.

Tara went in a long, winding circle for about half an hour until she stopped and turned back. Even as her feet rotated her brain was screaming at her that this was crazy. There was enough in town to interest her if she kept going, and she wasn't quite as broke as she had suggested. But this was the only thing that interested her. She picked up the pace and chose a more direct route. She would be home in another ten minutes.

When she arrived she crept to the edge of the block like a burglar casing the joint. Luckily the street was deserted, otherwise she'd have got some very odd looks. The flat was there, exactly the same. Fay hadn't hung out a banner inviting the neighbours to an orgy. But as she looked closer, Tara did spot something. On a cloudy afternoon, the curtains were drawn. They'd been open when she left. It was hardly absolute proof, but it gave her enough incentive to carry on. She crept up the path like she was balancing on a high wire, every step carefully and agonisingly judged. Her sandals weren't the ideal tool for the job. When she got to the front door she stopped and took a deep breath. There was no sign of movement behind the curtains: they were pulled shut to the hilt.

Tara reached for the handle, her fingers trembling. If she found what she was expecting, she would have a bigger job on her hands getting out unnoticed. When she opened this door she knew she was crossing a line -- but her curiosity, or rather her voyeurism, got the better of her. Slowly she grasped the handle and turned it, trying to move as gently as possible. Once there was enough of a gap she edged inside, skimming the surface of the mat. She closed the door to, leaving it slightly ajar, and leaned on the wall. Her body was so flooded with nerves that it was twitching. She took another deep breath and calmed herself -- and then she heard it. The sound drifted through from the living room, muffled but audible, and unmistakeable. Fay was watching something, and it wasn't daytime telly.

Tara moved closer to the door, freezing after each step. This was getting ridiculous. She knew full well what was going on, yet knowledge alone wasn't enough for her. When she got to the doorframe itself, she peered slowly round the crack. The living room was gloomy. Fay was lying flat on the couch, her feet sticking out over the end. Her clothes were on the floor below. In the far corner the TV was displaying a large image of a woman fighting a losing battle with half a dozen men, and thoroughly enjoying the defeat. Fay was evidently enjoying it too. One hand was cupped around her left breast, the other between her legs, rubbing intermittently. Now and then she would stop and stroke one leg against the couch, indulging in the view. She was completely lost in her own pleasure.

Tara stood rock still, hardly daring to breathe. Her excitement at being given a window into someone's private world kept her immobile. Had she allowed her rational side to assert itself, she would have backed away and left. Instead she remained, confident that she could snoop for a long time without Fay noticing. She was soon proved wrong. The screen darkened as the camera zoomed in for a particularly intimate shot -- and Fay's lolling head froze in disbelief. From her angle she saw the reflection clearly, even if Tara didn't.

"What the hell...?" Her head whipped towards the doorway. Tara lurched back as though she had been slapped. Fay bolted off the couch and scrambled to pick up the pile of clothing at her feet. "What, what is it now?" she demanded, her voice cracking with a mixture of anger and embarrassment. She kept her eyes down as she hurriedly yanked her clothes on. "Did you forget something else?"

"I..." Tara's voice caught feebly in her throat. "I'm sorry. I didn't mean to startle you. I should have left you alone. I know I had no right..."

Fay's head turned in her direction again, only this time gradually. Beneath her fringe, her eyes narrowed suspiciously. "You..." she began, hardly believing her own words. "You were spying on me, weren't you?" The silence from Tara was all the proof she needed. Shaking her head, she bent into a crouch, her top held over her breasts. "You sick... How could you? What is wrong with you?" The furious demand coincided with a loud squeal from the girl on TV as she was nailed six ways from Sunday. Fay reached for the remote and jabbed it as hard as she could, plunging the room into quiet.

"Fay, please, I'm so sorry," Tara wailed, bouncing anxiously on the balls of her feet. "I just got curious and then I wanted to know, and I came back... I didn't want to show you up or anything like that, I swear."

"So... what you said this morning -- you made that up? So you could come back and catch me out?" Fay summoned up the courage to pull on her top. Now she was dressed again, the anger was displacing the shame. "If one of the guys had done that to me, I'd be moving out. No, I'd be telling him to move out." She got up and marched towards Tara, who was whittling away with each passing second. "Did you think it didn't matter, just because you're a girl? That you can do what you like and I won't care?"

"No," Tara whispered, hardly able to look at her.

"We're not, like, best mates or anything, just 'cos we're stuck here. I don't tell you about my periods or keep the bathroom door open when I'm having a leak. I'm not going to say, 'Hey Tara, gimme some space so I can have a wank', am I?" Fay pushed past her and made for the stairs. "From now on, keep away from me. I want some privacy, and I'm not going to get it with you around."

Tara looked after her appealingly, wanting to say something, but knowing it would be inadequate. Fay had stormed upstairs and slammed her door in an instant. Tara stood in silence, hoping that it was a bad dream she could wake from. Then as the reality hit home, she walked into the living room and slumped on the sofa. She buried her face in her hands, feeling her eyes sting. The shame was all hers. She had just alienated her only company for the next six weeks. Fay was right, they weren't best friends. But they were here, together, and now life was going to be intolerable. She asked herself what she had hoped to gain from uncovering Fay's normal little secret, besides the childish satisfaction of being right. The best answer she could come up with was that she wanted a spark of excitement, in whatever form. Somehow that didn't seem a good enough reason.

The hours crawled by more painfully than they had ever done before. Tara moved around the flat in a daze, waiting to hear any signs of life from Fay's room. The door remained closed until early evening, when Tara was sat at the kitchen table robotically eating dinner. All of a sudden she heard it fly open, followed by the sound of Fay's feet stalking about. When they moved to the stairs and descended, Tara felt a sick feeling in her stomach. She half-expected that Fay was coming to give her her marching orders.