The Writer and her Muse

It was about four in the afternoon, when my phone started exploding with calls, and then messages. Checking the ID, it was Lesley. I wasn't ready to talk to her, but I did check my messages.

They were all the same, Lesley, wanting to know where I was and why I left. There were tearful messages in message bank.

I couldn't believe she didn't understand why I left. Surely she must realise, surely? There was going to be no hiding from her. She might not know where I was, but she would just come charging into the library tomorrow. I walked down the beach, trying to build up some courage. I hated confrontation. I walked for twenty minutes before I found a quiet spot among the dunes. Taking a deep breath, I hit dial.

"Ginny, where the hell are you?" Lesley wailed. Why did you leave?"

"Sorry, Lesley, I left because it wasn't working. We're different people. We were fighting, and arguing. The house was like a tomb."

She sounded hysterical. "Ginny, if this is because I went without you, I'm sorry. I needed to clear my head."

"You left because you felt the same way I did. It wasn't working."

"No, I left because I needed to get out of the house to try and break the spell. I had writers block, and I felt terrible. You kept asking about progress, and I felt like an idiot because I couldn't write anything. My mind was blank, I couldn't do it, and I hated that."

"You must have had it before?"

"Yes, lots of times, but it never mattered in the past. Its different with you. I didn't want you to see me like that."

"Like what? Human? Every writer suffers it. It's not the end of the world."

"I know, but I could see the expectation. Every day you came home, expecting me to have done something, and I felt so useless. Its bad enough you gave to fix all my stuff ups, but I couldn't bear the thought of you seeing me so otiose, barren."

"That's ridiculous. I never gave you reason to think that."

"I know," she sobbed. "It was in my head, the harder I tried to write something, anything, the worse it got."

"You didn't have to take it out on me."

"I know, I acted like an insane lover, because I felt so powerless. Bloody hell, Ginny, you find it all so easy. Words, you understand them."

"Lesley, I'm sorry for just walking out. I didn't know what else to do. I couldn't stand the thought of waiting for you to return, and then have a big row. I think its best if we move on."

"No, I'm not having it, Ginny. I love you. I know I have never actually said it, and that's part of why I needed some space. I was worried because I'm so much older than you. But I figured it out. I came home with my speech already prepared. Ginny, I love you. I want us to be together forever."

"What?"

"I know we haven't known each other for long, but I knew the moment I first saw you. My heart did a funny flip-floppy thing, and I knew then. Please, come home, give us another chance."

"Lesley... I..."

"No, don't say anything. I love you, I just hope one day you might feel the same way."

"Fucking hell. You idiot, I love you, too. I just don't know if it's enough. We're different people."

"That's why it's special, we are different, that's what makes us work."

I heard her wiping away sniffles. "You love me?"

"Yes, I love you."

Then why aren't you here with me?"

"Because, I don't know if I can live with you."

"Why?"

Because I feel like you don't respect me. Like the money thing. Okay, I don't have much, but I don't need it thrown in my face. I don't want to be your charity case. I don't want to be bought."

"I never did that. I just wanted to show my affection."

"Affection is buying the occasional gift. Throwing money at me is obsession."

"I just wanted you to have nice things."

"I like nice things, Lesley, I just don't expect them. If I say I want something, that doesn't mean I want you to buy it for me, and my job is important. You carrying on about it being a shitty job made me feel pretty awful."

"Shit, I know I can be a bit obsessive. I never meant to belittle you. I just wanted you to stay in bed. I love the mornings. Waking with you in my arms is so magical."

"I feel the same, but I'm trying to figure out my life as well. At the moment, the library means a lot to me, it's home."

"I don't understand, I thought home would be home."

"It hasn't felt that way lately. We have been fighting so much. I couldn't wait to get to work."

"We can get past that. It's our home. At least that's what I want."

"I don't know Lesley, it's like there's so many things against us. I mean, I don't bring anything. It's your house, your furniture. The only things of mine are my clothes. Everything else is yours."

"But it's often that way with relationships."

"I want to be an equal, I don't want to feel like I'm a chattel."

"Oh my god, I never felt that way. I never treated you like that. I offered to pay for everything."

"That's the fucking problem, Lesley. I don't want you to. Fuck, you wouldn't let pay anything for staying there."

"Bloody hell, Ginny. I don't want your money. I just want us to be together. All right, I have money and you don't. Its not the end of the world. I want to share everything with you. I want us to write together, make a wonderful life together."

"Look, Lesley, lets just take a few days and catch our breath. I do love you, I have never felt this way about anybody before. The only other relationship I have ever had is Naomi. I'm lost at the moment, and I need to find myself."

"Why don't you come home. I can cook us dinner, we can talk. God, Ginny, I don't even know where you are."

"No, I need some space. Give me a few days."

"Could we at least have lunch tomorrow?"

"Yeah, we can do that."

As I walked out of the library, there was Lesley on a mountain bike. She gave me a nervous grin. "Hello, Ginny. I hope you brought your bike."

"Hey, Lesley, yeah, I'm on the bike. What are you doing?"

"I know how much you enjoy cycling so I brought mine. I have stuff for a picnic in my pack."

I sniggered softly. "You on a bike. Colour me impressed."

I pulled on my helmet and was about to follow her out onto the street, when I saw all the faces pressed up against the library window. Nosy buggers.

As we headed out of town, Lesley pulled along side me. "How have you been?"

"Busy, what about you? How did the Tauranga trip go?"

"Horrible. I missed you like crazy. I brought you heaps of presents, I did that because I needed to say sorry. God I was a bitch for just going off without you."

"Hey, we are allowed separate lives, I wasn't mad that you went without me. I was mad that you didn't even say goodbye, no phone call, not even a text."

"I said I'm sorry, Ginny. I acted badly. I made a damn mistake. I didn't do it to hurt you. I was angry, and did a silly thing."

"Yeah, I get that, and I may have overreacted, but lately things between us have been so strained. I was sick of fighting all the time."

Even though she was panting, I heard the sigh. "I know I'm difficult sometimes. When my writing isn't going so well, I get a bit moody."

There's a trail that goes right along the beach along behind Hikuwai Beach. Lesley found a nice spot, and we pulled over. We spread the blanket on the sand and Lesley pulled out some yummy sushi, salad rolls and some tasty looking desserts: caramel slice, raspberry creme roll.

The food was nice, the bottle of champagne, though, was fabulous and made things a little easier.

Just being near her, feeling her nervous energy, seeing her remorsefulness, there was no play acting, no codology.

We talked, each taking time, ensuring there were no raised voices. There was passion in her voice, her apologies were real and heartfelt.

She handed me a little box, and when I gave her a questioning glance, she squeezed my hand warmly. "Open it, please. It is one of the gifts I brought for you on my trip. It was supposed to propitiate for my selfishness."

Opening the box, hiding inside was a gorgeous gold ring, it had a marvellous garnet as the centrepiece, surrounded by small diamonds.

I'm sire my eyes bulged as I stared at it with a mixture of surprise and admiration. "Lesley, this is too much. I can't accept this."

"You have to. It's a gift."

"No, I can't. I don't have anything to give you."

"I wasn't expecting anything, you did nothing wrong. I'm the one who acted awfully."

I slipped the ring from the box, and held it in my hand. "It's gorgeous."

I watched as she wiped away a little tear, and that got me started. I could feel my cheeks, little streams of tears. "Put it on." She sniffled.

As I moved my hand, hers guided it onto my fourth finger. "Ginny, I love you so much. I wanted this ring to say that, to express what I hadn't been able to. I wanted to say those words, but with our age differences, I was scared you wouldn't feel the same way."

I reached out with my hand, and pulled her towards me. Our lips met softly. We fit together so well, our mouths opened and our tongues swirled. It was the kiss of lovers, long parted. Her wet cheeks scuffed mine, our skin sticky and damp. Her hand curled behind my neck, holding tightly, and at that point, I think we were both scared to let go.

In the end, the sounds of kids racing their bikes along the trail just behind us dragged us back to reality. We separated ruefully, our eyes locked.

As my heart stopped it's incessant hammering, I sighed. "Lesley, I have nothing to give you. Its not fair."

"All I want is for you to come home. The place feels empty without you."

"How is your writing going?"

She grimaced painfully. "Shit, I can't write a damn thing. Nothing works."

"That's what I was afraid of. I fear that it is me causing your writers block."

"That is just sheer lunacy. I have had it many times. Ginny, I can't just write every day. You're a writer yourself. You must understand. Some days, nothing works."

"But you started with such alacrity."

"That's the way it is with me, some days, when I get in the zone, I block everything out and just go mad. I admit that your editing as I went threw me. It made me anxious, because it felt like I was on display. It reminded me how many mistakes I made."

"I'm sorry, I wasn't trying to be mean. I thought it might speed everything up, and I didn't know if you knew some of the grammatical stuff."

"Yes, I went to school. I know them, its just when I get to some words with multiple meanings, I panic, and then can't sort it out. When I panic, it throws me out. That's why when I write, I don't even think about it."

We finished the champagne, and she looked at me with hope. "Ginny, please. Just come home. I want you to think of it as home, not as somewhere you live."

"Yes, but I have to go and get my stuff, and quit my job."

"Your job?"

"Yes, I took a job as a cleaner at the campground to get a cheaper rate."

"Where?"

"Island View."

"Do you gave to wear a uniform, like a maids costume?"

"No, you dirty minx."

"Oh dear, I would love to see that. You would look yummy."

I sniggered, "So would you."

"I do." She replied. "If you're nice I will show you."

We cycled back to her place, where she picked up her Ute and drove me out to Island View. They were pretty pissed off, and I had to pay a months rent in lieu of me giving them notice.

Back at Lesley's, now my home, we enjoyed a relaxing lazy afternoon. As the sun set, I said, "Earlier, you mentioned I was also a writer. I have been doing some writing."

She recoiled a little. "Really? I would love to read it."

"Lesley, this might not be a good thing. The only reason I am admitting this, is I don't want there to be any lies or mistrust between us. Oh, and I was angry with you."

"This sounds intriguing. What have you done?"

I swallowed a large lump in my throat, and blurted out. "I stole your story and finished it."

She sat bolt upright, staring at me in disbelief. "You did what?"

I sat up to face her. "I stole your story and wrote my own ending."

I watched as she tried to gain control. She hyperventilated, her breathing fast and shallow. "What did you do with it?"

"Nothing. You can have it. It's on my computer."

"Why did you do it?"

"I don't know; you seemed stuck. I was going to finish it and give it to you as a grand gesture. Then I realised you might feel like I was interfering. I was just going to delete it."

"I want to read it." She gasped, misgiving painted all over her face.

I stood up and walked inside, returning with my laptop. I handed it to her. She already knew my password. "It's on the desktop. Shall I go and get dinner?"

She glanced up at me, as she opened the computer. "Yes, that would be nice."

I left her to it, and went inside to prepare dinner. I decided on Fettucini. I watched through the kitchen window as she started reading.

She never budged, never looked up, she just read. Holy shit, the concentration was scary.

I walked away to set the table and get a bottle of wine.

When I dished up the food, I walked out, and tapped her on the back. "Dinner is served."

She glanced at me, irritated. "Yes, I'll be there in a minute."

I walked back inside, poured two glasses of wine and waited. I drank the first glass, still no sign of her. After pouring another, I started eating. I had just about finished when she walked in and sat at the table. "How did you do that?"

"What do you mean?" I replied as she started to eat her food.

"It is as if I wrote it. How did you do that?"

"I edited your other book and the first parts of this one. I have read everything you've ever written. Your voice is strong in my head."

"Ginny, its remarkable. I really liked it."

"I picked up the idea for the ending from amongst your notes. It is your story."

"No, it is yours, you wrote it."

"Lesley, I was wrong to steal it. Wrong to put my nose in where it wasn't invited."

"Rubbish, I'm not mad. Well, that's not entirely true. I am annoyed, but that's just jealousy on my part."

"Delete it, and we'll pretend it never happened." I replied hopefully. God, I was such a fool to even tell her.

"No, absolutely not. It is far too good, better than anything I ever wrote."

"Bullshit, its written in your voice, but it missed the main ingredient: You. What makes your work so special is the emotion that you instil in your characters. This lacks all of that."

"Nonsense, it is fabulous. We must send it in."

"No way. I would rather delete it."

She finished her plate, drank her glass of wine, and said, "What say you this? We send it in to Delia. She will be shocked. She wasn't expecting this for a few more months. Anyway, we send it to her and let her decide?"

"If you do," I spluttered quickly, "you must say it is yours. You must never mention I had anything to do with it."

"Don't be ridiculous, Ginny. Do you honestly believe she will think I wrote that?"

My face sank. "You don't like it, do you?"

"Now you're being silly. I love it. What I meant is, she knows I'm not capable of writing this. If it were me, there would be errors everywhere. This is perfect, as it is."

"No, it still needs editing."

"Nonsense."

When I stood up to get another bottle of wine, she called out. "I will say I sent it to you and you edited it for me."

"Okay, I can live with that. Yes, let her decide, but regardless of what she says, it remains your work."

"Why? You wrote it."

I sat in her lap, facing her. "Lesley, if we are going to be a real couple, then we share everything. If that story was marketed as mine, it might sell a hundred copies. Marketed as yours, it will sell thousands."

"What do we do about the money?" she asked.

My mouth collided with hers, her wet sweet juicy lips parted and my tongue snaked evilly into her mouth. My arms wrapped her head, hers slipped around my waist.

Our breasts scrubbed together, my nipples hardening as my bra scratched across them. The heat of her body, her pounding heart told me everything. We moved apart, panting breathlessly, her eyes gazing into mine.

Leaning back, I fumbled with her top, lifting it free from her arms. Leaning close, I reached behind her to free her breasts, her bra cast aside. "You have such beautiful breasts, Lesley."

Her head tilted back and her eyes closed as a purring contented moan escaped her gaping mouth.

"Hmmmm, god that feels so nice"

With my hands rubbing and caressing her, I leaned forward, her sweet succulent mouth opening once again to receive my kiss. Playful, frantic, passionate, our kiss intensified, her ripe full breasts filling my hands, her nipples, proud and firm, rubbed against my palms as I mauled them, squeezing, massaging.

Sliding off her knees, I fell to the floor between her legs, her cycling shorts no match for my hands as I tugged on them, her hips wriggling to aid the process.

Her pussy, open and pouting, awaited, her juices already apparent, her lips quivering as my tongue dipped deep into her vagina, my fingers caressing her tummy.

Again she moaned, as she leaned back, thrusting her pussy at my face, her legs winding around my head, her fingers tangled in my hair as she ground her sex against my face.

"Fuck you, Ginny. Lick it, don't tease me, don't make me wait."

She was so open, so juicy, her fragrant arousal filling my senses.

Her angry swollen clit wriggling against my tongue as I thrust my fingers into her welcoming slit, her walls sticky, slippery with her lust. It wasn't herd to find her pleasure spot. Her growling moan directed me.

Her orgasm was fierce, her hips bucking, thrusting against me, her legs crushing around my neck.

It was afterwards, as we lay together on the hardwood floor, that she snuggled into my arms. "I love you so much." This time the kiss was gentle, loving and lasting.

"Lets go to bed," she whispered.

Our lovemaking dragged into the night. Just as I thought it was over, we started again, our desires so closely matched.

At work the next day, I got a call from Delia. "Good morning, my dear. Are you free for a moment?"

"Yes, we can talk."

"Annabelle just sent me a new book. She said you have already edited it. Is that right?"

"Yes."

"What did you think, and I want you to be honest?"

"It lacked her usual emotive characters. I thought the storyline was good, but it was missing some of her usual passion."

"Thank heavens. Golly, I thought perhaps it was me. Now what am I going to say to her?"

"Delia, in the short time I have worked with Annabelle, the one thing I know is if you lie to her, she will lose all respect for you. I strongly suggest you are completely honest with her."

"Good heavens, she will not like that very much. I'm not sure I can do it. We have only just recruited her into our stable. I can't say that."

"You have to. I think she rushed it. If you aren't honest, and it tanks, that's when she will get angry. Releasing something that's not up to her usual standards could destroy her reputation."

"Oh my god, Virginia. Its not that bad, in fact I really like it. I just think it lacks a little of her usual emotion."

"As do I. Just be honest, Delia. When I spoke to her about it, I think she's half expecting you to say something."

"If you are wrong, darling. I will get damned well screwed, and not in a good way."

"Good luck." I sniggered as I hung up.

Riding up to the front of the house, I found Lesley in her office and she was going over the book.

She swivelled in her chair when I walked up behind her. "You cheated," she growled.

"No I didn't; she asked what I thought and I told her."

"What do I do now, Ginny?"

"You know what you like and don't like. Change the bits you don't like, make it yours."

"I do not want to wreck all your work."

"You will be doing us both a favour. Fix it, turn it into a best seller. I should never have touched it anyway."