The Second Domino Pt. 01

Following on from Fiona and Harriet's story I've decided to continue the domino theory and focus on Helena, the headmistress at Fiona's school. In the First Domino I mentioned that Helena was also questioning her sexuality but still married, so let's see where this one leads us. I've included English translations of Swedish words within the story.

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I've always been a voracious reader even when I was a child and thankfully my parents were liberal minded enough to let me read just about anything and that's why I can teach English today despite the appalling dearth of basic grammar in the Australian school system when I was in school. I was taught that correct grammar wasn't nearly as important as speaking your mind but that has bred an entire generation of people unable to express themselves properly and with that little rant over let me begin my tale.

My name is Helena Young. My mother was born in Gothenburg and she emigrated here in the late 1980s to pursue a career in teaching. She met my father, Barry at a parent teacher night. He was a single father with one daughter, Erika and dad has always said he paid more attention to her than to the other teacher present at the meeting. To cut a long story short they started seeing each other and moved in together in 1988, I was born the following year. 1989 was a momentous year, the Eastern European countries that had been controlled and occupied by the Soviet Union rose up, starting first with Poland and like dominoes the rest fell peacefully with the exception of Hungary. These events had a great effect on my parents who'd grown up during the Cold War. When my brother was born the following year she called him Michael, the Anglicised version of Mikhail. Both he and I have inherited our mother's blonde hair and blue eyes.

We lived in the mountain suburb of Belgrave and my earliest memories are of hearing the steam train Puffing Billy, which ran just past our house. It's a popular tourist attraction because the track is the original line used when steam trains were the only trains in existence. It wends its way through the hills to Gembrook and as it crosses bridges over roads you'll often see tourists with cameras as hordes of screaming, chattering children wave from windows. I've been on that train a number of times as a child, and later on as a teacher and mother.

My childhood was pleasant and I can't recall hearing or seeing dad and mum fight, and the only time I ever saw my mother raise her voice was when my half sister Erika's mother, Toni tried to take Erika back. I was too young to know much at the time but later on I learned about Toni's struggles to overcome heroin addiction. She died when I was nine years old and mum kept me home from school that day. Erika had some problems adjusting the loss of her biological mother but mum has always been the maternal kind and we seemed to ride over that particular incident relatively easily.

One my favourite subjects at school was foreign languages. My mother raised us to speak Swedish at home, and at school I learned Spanish and Indonesian. In my last year of high school I also learned German from mum, which makes me a bit of a polyglot. I can't recall any upsets apart from the usual teenage angst. I dated in high school but my first sexual encounter wasn't until I turned eighteen and that had nothing to do with morals or ethics and more to do with my desire to get a good pass mark so as I could enrol in Teachers college.

Thus, my first sexual encounter was with a guy and I can't say it was an unpleasant experience but it wasn't what I expected. After he'd come inside me I found myself staring at the ceiling a little bemused at all the fuss. Wasn't there supposed to be more to it than this? Subsequent encounters did arouse me but I always felt as if there was a lot of fuss for thirty seconds of frantic pushing and the ejaculation thing. Suffice it to say I moved on from James and onto a succession of guys over the next few years and only one of them, Jules stands out. I met Jules when I was doing a night course in Mandarin. Jules had a fondness for going down on a woman, both before penetration and also afterwards. It was unusual to have a guy pay that much attention to my genitals, but he also had a wandering eye and hands, so that one ended swiftly.

I came out of college with itchy feet, I'd resisted the urge to travel to Europe but now that I was free to do my own thing I signed up to an agency and thanks to my love of languages and the fact that I was fluent in Swedish I wound up with a nine month position in Stockholm, which was exciting for me because I'd only been there once when I was ten years old. I had been raised with stories about Sweden and now that I was an adult I was determined to explore the country in depth and connect with my heritage.

It wasn't a difficult choice by any stretch of the imagination, I was a Primary school teacher in Broadmeadows so it was a hell of a commute from Belgrave and while I could have rented a house there fairly easily, Broadmeadows has never appealed to me. Thus when this opportunity came up I grabbed it with both hands and after an interview at the agency I was accepted. They were really impressed that I could actually speak Swedish! That interview sticks in my mind for another reason though, because I felt physically drawn to one of the women interviewing me. Anna was quite a few years older than I, probably closer to mum's age but it was the first time I'd ever felt a sexual pull towards another woman.

I touched down at Arlanda in February, 2009 and it's a cliché but one of the first things I noticed was the weather. I'd come from a country that was at the tail end of a particularly hot summer and into a country that was still firmly in the grip of an icy winter. I'd thought I was wearing warm clothes on the plane but when I got off the plane at Arlanda I realised I'd need extra layers. I was freezing!

And that brings me to one of my colleagues, Kristina. She was some seven years older than me. She was from Gothenburg but as I settled into my new job my attraction to Kristina started morphing into a physical one as well. Kristina had a healthy head of long blonde hair, blue eyes and a fresh complexion. Her dress sense was impeccable, what I would loosely term, atypical Stockholm with her fondness for stylish blouses and dresses. She was married to Bjorn, a young stockbroker who split his time between Stockholm and Hamburg.

For my part, I was initially drawn to Kristina because she was from my mother's old home. She was adventurous and very tactile, which is unusual for a native Swede, they aren't known for being touchy feely. Thus, despite the fact I spoke Swedish I felt a little like an alien and having a friend who wasn't afraid to slip a hand into the crook of my arm at work was comforting. It was truly enlightening to listen to her stories about growing up in Gothenburg, because I could see why mum was the way she was, hard working, industrious and quite minimalistic.

It evolved slowly from there because we caught the same train home to Hornstull where we'd part company, I was living with my aunt Sylvie on the island of Reimersholme. Kristina wasn't far from me, she lived not far from the subway station.

Because she was so close to home we used to bump into each other in Hornstull, which is to the west of central Stockholm and before too long I was accompanying her on walks along the canal known as Pålshundet. The canal branches off from the larger body of water, Riddarfjärden and separates two islands, trendy upbeat Södermalm and the much quieter Langholmen, where the old prison was located. It's now a budget hostel and we used to toss a coin when we met at the bridge to decide if we were going east towards Gamla Stan or over the bridge to Langholmen.

Before too long she started inviting me back for fika, which for non-Swedish people is just coffee and cake, it's an obsession with us and if you're invited for fika it's not so much an invitation as a requirement unless you've got very very urgent business elsewhere. The first time I was in her house I went to remove my shoes because, that's what you do in Sweden. Trust me, they may not say it to your face but they are masters at being passive aggressive. Kristina merely looked at my shoes and said, "leave them on, that's why I have a doormat."

Even so I felt a little out of place walking into the kitchen with my shoes on because Bjorn was standing at the breakfast bar with his coffee and a laptop. Kristina merely introduced me as her friend from work and then directed me to the sitting room while she made fika. Nonetheless, I could feel Bjorn's eyes boring into the back of my head at this faux pas but it was obvious he was either too proud or too afraid to risk a confrontation in front of Kristina.

That incident drew me in deeper along with her way of breaking tradition just to see what would happen next. Scandinavians in general are known for their addiction to routine and procedure. She also had an inquiring mind and knowing that I could speak and read Mandarin and Indonesian gave her the chance to learn some basic phrases. During those early months though I also discovered that whilst she'd been married for six years she was deeply dissatisfied with Bjorn.

"It is like we are two different people, they say that opposites attract but opposite poles also repel each other. It is like we are just going through the motions, all our friends said we were the perfect couple but about the only time we ever talk is about money or the house."

"Maybe you should have children," I suggested.

"With Bjorn?" Kristina winced, "I think not, imagine being stuck at home while he went about his own way. He suggested it once and I laughed at him. His mother wants grandchildren but she lives in Kiruna, so we cannot rely on her to babysit and my mother says it is up to me," she tucked her hand into the crook of my arm.

"Perhaps I will have an affair."

"An affair?" I must have looked shocked but she simply giggled.

"I am joking of course, but you must admit it is a good suggestion."

That 'suggestion' became one of our main topics of conversation in the weeks leading up to the summer break, I would suggest certain guys or types of guys and she would dissect every one of them with ease. What I understand now is that it was not that Kristina was tired of Bjorn, she was tired of being tied down. She wanted to go bar hopping and pick up random guys.

"Or women," she admitted, "it's always been one of those things I wanted to try but then I met Bjorn and all that disappeared."

"You would have sex with a woman?" I must have looked shocked because she laughed.

"Why not? It is not like it is fatal."

That started a conversation about female crushes and I 'came out' and admitted I'd been attracted to Anna, and of course she wanted to know more and out of a need to examine this in a place where I was far removed from Anna, I told her more about her or at least as much as knew, which wasn't much to be honest. Kristina then kept the ball rolling by admitting she'd been attracted to women and yet, like me, she'd never taken the next step and slept with a woman.

"But it is on my bucket list," she told me, "I might do it once and decide it is not for me but then again maybe women are my thing. I know for sure I am dissatisfied with Bjorn but other men are attractive so I am not sure."

We didn't revisit that for some time but as the summer break approached she began pointing out women running alongside the canal as we walked. She seemed to prefer blonde women, but not once did she ever make a move on me. I wasn't dating then, despite my half remembered vow to bring a Swedish guy back to Australia and I don't know why I hadn't joined the dating pool, I guess I was too busy trying to fit in and adapt to a new environment. In my quieter moments I felt that I was stuck on a roundabout and getting dizzier with every turn of the carousel. But it wasn't until the school broke up for the summer break that I stepped off the roundabout.

Summer breaks in Sweden are notoriously long and tourists have long complained about the length of time the Swedes spend on holiday because a lot of places are closed down or open for less time and with less staff. It's like the entire country goes into permanent holiday mode because during the summer the days are so much longer and there's a lot more sunshine. We're obsessed with the sun in case you haven't already worked it out and I was missing it myself, having spent most of my life in a sunnier country.

With the end of the school term I felt a sudden desire to go out and party and there are plenty of places to party in Stockholm. I must have spent the first two weeks in clubs and cafés before going to see my mother's family in Gothenburg and that kept me occupied for another week but then I came back to Stockholm and it was whilst I was coming out of the subway that I bumped into Kristina again. She was coming back from the store with a few bags of shopping and when I saw the size of the bags I offered to help her carry them home.

"I am fine."

"Maybe you are fine and maybe not but I have time on my hands and we can have fika."

"Okay," she nodded, "that is good, Bjorn is away on vacation so I am on my own."

"You did not go with him?"

She stared into the distance as if focusing on something.

"Do you know what I love the most about summer? It is the one time of the year he disappears to some tropical paradise, I went with him the first year but now I either stay here or go somewhere else. Right now Bjorn is in the Maldives drinking cocktails and admiring his tanned legs."

She came to a halt and glanced over her shoulder as if expecting company.

"I am thinking about leaving Bjorn."

"Why? When?"

"I am thinking after the summer vacation, we have nothing in common any more. I have been thinking about this for months, since before you came here and I cannot think of anything we have in common apart from Lord of the Rings."

"Lord of the Rings?"

"Our first date was a Lord of the Rings themed party," her eyes shifted, "now there is a woman I would sleep with, Cate Blanchett."

"Me too," I replied a little too quickly, "but soon you will be bar hopping."

"Ja, soon I will be free but it is strange to think that I can go to bed with someone who is not Bjorn, they say the first time is the hardest."

We continued the conversation at her house. She was animated and surprisingly relaxed about ending a marriage and I felt somewhat torn. As I mentioned earlier, I was attracted to Kristina but she was also my colleague and at that age I had certain unwritten rules, one of which involved not dating someone I worked with after seeing a relationship fall apart at the school I'd worked at in Broadmeadows. When she suggested going out to a party though I agreed and then spent the next couple of days wondering why I'd said yes in the first place. What was I hoping to achieve? In the end I rationalised it with the thought that I was merely accompanying Kristina to a party, it wasn't as if I was her date and besides, we worked together.

The party was one of those fancy dress occasions and in keeping with the theme and our job roles, I went as a naughty schoolgirl, wearing a black leather, mini skirt, a white blouse with a placket over the buttons and a striped tie that I bought from the menswear department in H&M. In keeping with that I even went out and bought myself a pair of long black boots. A basic black jacket completed my outfit.

Kristina's outfit was very elegant and definitely unforgettable. She was wearing a cream, silk pussybow blouse with black, silk-covered buttons, it had deep cuffs and a pussybow made of black satin. Her black, satin skirt was fastened with intricately fashioned gold-coloured buttons up the front. A wide leather belt had a brass buckle fashioned in the shape of a clamshell. Her black waistcoat had a suede front but a satin back, her long suede boots however were midnight blue with scrolled stitching and contrasting cream heels.

She smiled when she looked at my outfit.

"What is wrong?"

"It is missing something," she squinted at my waist, "wait here."

I sat there on her couch whilst she disappeared upstairs to the bedroom, she came back down with a wide metallic looking belt. On closer examination you could see it was metal squares attached to a leather strap and finished off with a large rectangular buckle.

"This will fix it," she wrapped it around my waist and fastened the buckle, "it fits me but it is made for a smaller waist, it always looks odd on me."

I couldn't help but admit that she was right, it really finished off my schoolgirl outfit.

"So, now I am the slutty schoolgirl," I adjusted the belt slightly.

"Ja, and I am the slutty headmistress."

The party was in a former office building in Östermalm, it had been converted into townhouses, and it's not far from the nightclub district of Stureplan. Swedes have a reputation for sober behaviour until they get drunk and then they pull out all the stops, and this in a country where the government regulates the sale of alcohol through its Systembolaget stores that control the price of alcohol and when you can buy it. The ultimate effect of all this over regulation can be seen whenever Swedes do drink, it's often to excess and this party was no exception. The couple hosting the party were old friends of Kristina from her time spent in Denmark, they're Danish by birth and somewhat liberal in their sexual attitudes and it was at that party that I first heard of swinging.

I smile when I read that last bit because while I had heard of the concept I'd never really looked into it because I considered it too weird. The thought that you could turn up with your partner and leave your keys in a big bowl for someone else to pick out seemed foreign to me. To Jens and Mette it was just the way they lived their lives and they both said that if not for their swinging lifestyles they might very well have gone their separate ways. It was a conversation that continued when Kristina and I left the party and headed to a club in Stureplan. I could tell she was intrigued by the idea but still committed to leaving Bjorn.

At the club we danced and drank some more before deciding to head back to her place. She was quite drunk when we left but by the time we got back to her place she'd sobered up a little, I was still quite tipsy and horny. When Kristina suggested we play a game of cards I at first declined because it seemed too staid but when she said it was strip poker I was intrigued.

"I haven't played it for years," I replied, "my dad taught me to play but I never got my head around the betting part."

"You played strip poker with your dad?" Kristina's eyes widened.

"No," I giggled, "poker, we played for matches or lollies."

"Lollies?" Kristina raised her eyebrows, "that is a word I have never heard."

"Candy."

"Ah, that is better than money."

Kristina went over the rules again by playing a dummy game and it seemed simple enough, she also explained the betting part, buying into a game and then upping your bid if you thought you had a good hand and sitting if you weren't sure. However with this game of strip poker she had one rather unique rule change. Instead of bidding an item of clothing, you offered let the other person undo a set number of buttons or invited them to undo your tie or remove an item of clothing. You could also go all out if you had a really good hand and bid an article of clothing. Considering the number of buttons on our outfits it seemed an ingenious and very bold rule change.

I won the first hand, bidding my jacket button against the three buttons holding her waistcoat closed and when I undid the first one I felt both nervous and excited at the same time, it felt like she was an innocent and I the older more experienced one. I actually paused after undoing the first button, she did look anxious but then she patted my hand.