The Writer and her Muse

"You won't be upset if I change a few things?"

"Upset? I'll be tickled to death if you do. You get to work, and I'll set the table, I brought us home a couple of pastries from the bakery."

I checked on her a few times as I heated up our lunch. She was deep into it. I decided to bring her lunch, and leave her to it.

I was down on the beach, just having got out of the water. Soaking wet, I lay on my towel, absorbing some of the warm summer rays.

I may have fallen asleep, and I was roused from the depths of darkness. "How was the water?"

Rolling onto my back, I stared up at her. "Glorious."

"Would you come and look at what I have done?" she asked pensively.

We walked hand in hand back to the house. I sensed her nervousness. "God, I hope I haven't destroyed it," she murmured.

"You could hardly make it worse."

I went over her changes. I smiled inwardly. In some ways it made me sad, it showed my shortcomings. But now, the story had life, the characters jumped out and grabbed you. Now it had bite, emotion, drama. Now it was a story.

I stood quickly, embracing her with a passion. "Beautiful. I love it, now all you have to do is finish it."

She hugged me back, our mouths caressing in a searing kiss. "Thank you."

"Yeah, well. You get back to work, and I'll finish my swim."

"Like hell, I am coming with you."

We ran back down the dunes, and raced hand in hand into the water. "Oh my god, you bitch." She screamed. "You said it was lovely. Bloody hell, it's freezing."

I jumped on top of her, pushing her splutteringly under the water.

When she sprung back up, I tried to run for shore, but she dragged me down and now I was under her, my arms and legs flailing wildly.

She giggled wildly as she let me up, and we splashed water over each other. "Bloody bitch," she snarled.

"Yeah, yeah. So what."

We cuddled together on our knees, the waves lapping gently over us, the kiss salty, our arms embracing tightly.

Standing, I dived under a lapping wave, and swam out past the waves. Lesley followed, and we paddled, enjoying the bracing enveloping welcome of the water.

It was just what we needed; it took away some of the tension, released us to be ourselves and just enjoy life.

It took her another couple of weeks to finish the rewrite of our book. I know it sounds cheeky, calling it ours, but that was her idea. I gave it a final polish up edit, and we sent it off to Delia.

When called to say she had received and read it. She was absolutely ecstatic. That book, went on to become one of Lesley's all time best sellers. It did something far more important though. it opened up a means for us to work together. Lesley, gave me a huge file of partly-written, unfinished stories, like all writers, she had a back catalogue, of things she had started, but never finished. Some were pretty good, and of course, some were shockingly bad.

I dived into them like a starving piranha, feasting on the corpse of a water buffalo. I picked out five of the best, and started rewriting, and finishing them of. Well, at least the basis of the story. Once I did my bit, Lesley read my changes, and added her own ideas, and then we would merge the changes. Lesley's biggest gift was her characters, and emotional dialogue. What she added, was scintillating little passages, things that I could only ever dream about creating. She provided, the gloss.

That phase of my life was nothing short of marvellous. We seamlessly slipped into a writing partnership. Her unfinished books gave me an opportunity to do what I had always dreamed of. She provided the ideas. The part I always struggled with, starting. Here there was this marvellous catalogue of brilliant ideas that had dried up for Lesley.

For me, it was fuel, I immersed myself in them. I wrote like never before, words flowed. I was that busy, I had to turn down work from Delia.

It wasn't just the writing though, we had eased into our actual relationship. The writing together, was like the glue that gave us a centre, something that brought us together.

It wasn't all sunshine and roses. We still fought, we still found ways to get under each others skin. That, I think, is life. It's impossible for two human beings to live together and agree on everything. Especially passionate creative people, who were immersed in connected projects.

When we fought, wow, we really fought. We swore angrily at each other, snarled and snapped, but I believe that is impossible to avoid. If you want mountainous highs, then there has to be troughs to balance everything out. It's just the way the Universe works.

We had a long way to go, but it was a start. By rewriting, and reworking her old ideas, and turning them into successful popular novels. It finally feel gave me the feeling that I contributed. Like some of her success was down to me. I needed that to make me feel at home.

The books we wrote together became her all time best selling novels. They quickly grew to become favourites amongst her fans.

She still fretted over our age difference; I didn't care. I loved her completely. Now that I had experienced real love, my own insecurities didn't exactly vanish, bit they abated. There was no question in my mind that she loved me equally. It showed every day, she supported me completely, she encouraged and pushed.

Being in a relationship like this, it was impossible to hide from people, especially family. When Mum and Dad asked me to book them into a chalet at the camping ground because they were coming to stay, I was stuck, Lesley seemed perturbed that I was still keeping our relationship quiet. "Are you embarrassed, Ginny? Is that why you have never told anyone?"

"No, I was thinking of you."

"Don't you dare hide behind protecting me. I'm not afraid of the world, all I want to keep secret is my writing."

"Yes, okay, I already know that, but how do we explain this?" I said as I pirouetted, taking in the house.

"Ginny, I'm happy to tell friends and family, people we can trust. It's just I don't want to be swamped by media. I like my privacy."

"Okay, if you're happy, I'll book them a caravan, or chalet."

She was aghast. "You will do no such thing. They will stay here with us. They are family."

"Holy crap, Lesley, are you sure?"

"Absolutely. I can't wait to introduce you to my parents. They are going to love you."

"All right then, what about Delia?"

That shocked her. "Oh god, I don't know, Ginny. Could we trust her?"

"Absolutely. We have argued over many things, but I have never questioned her integrity."

I could see the uncertainty, the scepticism. "You realise, if we were to get married, I would invite her."

She giggled. "Married, would you like that?"

Thinking for just a split second, I replied, "Yes, I think I would."

My parents visit was the start of our slow emergence into public life.

Mum and Dad were both a little shocked meeting Lesley. She was older than me, but she won them over. I think Mum and Dad could see the love. It was impossible to hide. We tried to keep our physical affection private, but we got busted several times.

Mum adored Lesley, mostly because Lesley was a more down to earth person, she was grounded.

It was telling Delia that I enjoyed the most.

I invited her to come and stay for a weekend visit. "Oh good heavens, my love. I am not staying in a blasted caravan."

"Delia, I have met somebody, and we are deeply in love. I live with her, and we would both like you to come and stay."

"Oh, very well. So long as I don't have to sleep on the blasted sofa."

"You will have your own room, I promise you are going to love it. The house overlooks the ocean, it's positively palatial."

"Well, that does sound delightful. Who is this mystery person?"

"Her name is Lesley, you and her are going to get on like a box of birds."

Lesley listened in on the conversation, and after I disconnected, she sniggered. "She is going to be so mad at us."

"Serves her right for being a snob."

That Friday night, Lesley and I went all out preparing a wonderful feast. Delia drove up about six. We met her at the front door, and I could see the shock on her face. She approached us hesitantly. "Virginia, it is so lovely to see you. Gosh, it seems like ages."

We fell into a huge embrace. As we separated, I did the introductions. "Delia, this is my partner, Lesley. Lesley, this is Delia."

They fell into a slightly less intimate embrace. "Hello, Lesley, it is a pleasure. If you have won Virginia's heart, then you must be special."

"Thank you, Delia, although I think it is Ginny who is the special one."

Delia did a quick double take. They had spoken many times on the telephone, and I sensed she recognised the voice. "Sorry, to sound nosy. Have we met? For some reason, your voice is very familiar."

Lesley glanced at me. "Should I tell her?"

"No, let her figure it out."

"Oh, for heaven's sake, Virginia. What is going on?"

"Delia, you have spoken to Lesley many times. You just didn't realise it."

She was getting angry. I could see it, she was fit to burst. "If you're going to play games, I shall just jolly well leave." Delia snorted.

It was Lesley who grabbed Delia's hand in hers and stood in front of her. "Delia, when we usually speak, you call me by my pseudonym, Annabelle."

The look on Delia's face was a picture. She spluttered, stared back and forth. "I..." She was speechless. A first, that's for sure.

"How did you meet?" she finally asked.

I relayed the story, and she looked totally nonplussed. "Good lord, you should turn it into a novel."

The visit turned out to be a lot of fun. We enjoyed the wonderful food and playing hostesses. Delia was overwhelmed, but when she saw the huge pile of work we had already started, any misgivings evaporated.

That was it. We drove up to Tauranga, and Lesley took great delight in introducing me to her parents. Yes, it was scary, but they quickly pushed my fears aside welcomed me into their home and seemed quite happy that I was now part of their family.

Every story has a beginning, and that was ours.