The Java Parlour – Part 8

Franky's morning-after buzz lasted until lunch time. Allie teased her mercilessly, Bea tried to drag details out of her and Shayne was already planning the wedding. Even Boomer had dropped the attitude and every time she walked past Franky, wiggled her eyebrows suggestively and asked if it was true that the bigger a shrinks couch, the bigger their… All that came screeching to a halt when Joan Ferguson stormed into The Java Parlour at midday.

The statuesque woman marched up to the counter where Shayne was serving and waved a prospectus from one of the tech colleges he had applied to in the air. It must've arrived in the post while he was at work.

"What's this?" Ferguson demanded as she thumped the offending prospectus on the counter.

Shayne paled while Franky's anger reared its head.

"I was thinking of… uh, I mean… I want to… um…" Shayne floundered.

Franky stepped beside him, looking Aunty Joan directly in the eye. "Unless I'm mistaken that was sent to Shayne, not you."

Ferguson turned her gaze on Franky, eyes appraising and scornful. "We have no secrets."

"It's against the law to open mail addressed to someone else," Franky pointed out confrontationally.

Ferguson's beady eyes held a flicker of amusement. "I have every right to know if my only nephew is planning on throwing his life away on a menial course and a mediocre career, don't you?"

"It's ultimately Shayne's decision. He's the one who has to live with his choices."

"I made a promise to his mother," Ferguson said coolly. "And I intend to keep it."

"Mum would've wanted me to be happy," Shayne finally found his voice.

Ferguson's eyes snapped back to Shayne, startled and displeased.

Franky beamed proudly at the lad.

"She wouldn't want you wasting your potential," Ferguson retorted.

He shrugged. "I'm not wasting it, I'm fulfilling it."

Ferguson glared at Franky. "This is your doing I take it? Filling his head with nonsense. I'll thank you to keep out of the matter from now on."

Franky didn't back-down one iota. She'd dealt with bullies like Joan Ferguson all her life and they didn't scare her. "I will continue to support Shayne in whatever way he needs. I don't take orders from you and, since we're on the matter, I think your handling of this situation has been piss poor."

Ferguson's cold glare turned more deadly. A dangerous smile tugged at her lips. "Tread carefully Ms Doyle," she threatened in a cool and firm voice.

They held each other's gaze. Sizing each other up.

"Aunty Joan, designing and building furniture is what I'm good at, it's what I enjoy and it's what I want to do when I leave school," Shayne said, impassioned. "Franky was just helping me pick a course, that's all."

"We'll talk about this at home," Aunty Joan said in a tone that made it very clear she'd bulldozer him into doing whatever she wanted. She picked-up the prospectus and tucked in under her arm, then turned on her heel.

"No!" Shayne yelled.

Ferguson stopped in her tracks and spun round to face him. She was glaring now, momentarily losing her calm façade. "What?" she hissed.

Franky felt Shayne shake beside her.

"There's nothin' to talk about, it's been decided," he stated.

Ferguson was positively seething. "We will talk about this at home," she repeated and swiftly departed.

Shayne sagged against the counter.

Franky put her arm about his shoulders. "Well done mate," she said. "That was the hard part."

He gave her a half-smile and shook his head sadly. "You don't know Aunty Joan. That was round one. She'll keep going until she gets her own way."

Franky looked sympathetic. "Once you start the course she can't do anything."

Shayne nodded but didn't look convinced.

Bea and Allie had exchanged several text messages over the course of the week in order to finalise arrangements. Allie had kindly booked tickets for Bea and her entire family for the opening night of the Drama Queen's Am Dram production of Wicked. As if Red wasn't smitten enough, Allie had then dismissed any attempt Bea made to pay for said tickets.

I couldn't possibly let u fork out 4 the tix's. How much do I owe u? Bea x

To which Allie had diplomatically replied: They're on the company. I'm allowed 6 comps. No1 in their right mind, besides u, wants 2 come! It's my pleasure. Allie x

Saturday was opening night and Allie offered to give Bea and her daughter a grand tour of the theatre in the afternoon. Bea had gladly accepted, looking forward to it (mostly for the chance to spend time with Allie). It had been planned for over a week when, on Saturday morning, Debbie declared she was spending the day with friends and not "going on some lame tour" as she flounced out of the house.

At first Bea was disappointed in her daughter but this was quickly overtaken by nerves at the prospect of being alone with Allie all afternoon. What if she didn't know what to say? What if they had nothing in common? Then, for a brief moment, she considered making-up an excuse and cancelling. She was halfway to reaching for her phone when she stopped. She really wanted to see the blonde. Even now, just thinking about Allie made her smile, made her stomach flip in a way it hadn't for years. She wanted to explore those feelings, see where they led, see if they were reciprocated.

So at 1pm Bea found herself outside the stage door of The Footlights Theatre, smiling in greeting at Allie. The blonde was clad in her sexy shorts, a white camisole and paint spattered hoodie again. That outfit is indecent, Bea decided as her eyes drank in the view, the butterflies in her stomach returning full-force.

"Hey you," Allie purred.

"Hi," Red replied, suddenly nervous. "I'm flying solo this arvo, something came up and Debs couldn't make it. I'm really sorry."

"That's alright. I'm sure we'll manage unchaperoned," Allie teased.

Bea gave her a shy smile and tucked a loose curl of unruly red hair behind her ear.

Allie chivalrously held the stage door open. As Bea stepped into the dimly lit corridor, she brushed past Allie and found herself holding her breath, skin tingling pleasantly. She'd never had this reaction to anyone before, it was most unsettling… in an amazing and terrifying way.

"The cast are having a dress rehearsal, they've broken for lunch but you'll get to see a bit of live action when they come back. So, until then, let's start the backstage grand tour!" Allie declared as she let the door swing shut.

She led Bea to the wings area first, showing her the mechanics of it all. Including the fly tower, which, Allie explained, was the space above the stage which held the rigging and pulleys that allowed the stage crew to make scenery changes. They passed a few of the stage crew arranging props, all of whom had a ready smile and friendly word for Allie and her guest.

Next Allie took Bea to the costume room where a team of three were busily sowing Glinda's costume and a fourth was fitting one of the supporting actors.

"Who's your girlfriend?" a middle-aged man dressed as a flying monkey teased.

"Jealous Keith?"

The costume woman sowed the final button on his waistcoat and plonked a small black fez on his head.

"Be gentle with me Allie. I'm a grown man dressed like a monkey. I have very low self-esteem."

She laughed.

Keith looked at Bea and grinned, indicating Allie. "This one's a keeper."

Bea felt herself blush.

"Alright saddo, go find your flea infested mates," Allie joked. "Thanks for biggin' me up. I'll give you that $20 later."

"Righto!" he laughed as he headed out of the room.

One of the costume team then kindly showed Bea a bunch of costumes from previous productions that hung on a rack at the back of the room.

Following that Allie gave her a tour of the technician's box, where lighting and sound were controlled. Bea was amazed at the amount of switches, panels and the insanely long list of cues. She was immensely impressed and had a new found admiration for technicians.

When they walked onto the stage the floorboards creaked and the houselights were up. Bea glanced about the auditorium, it was humbling and daunting and magical.

"This is amazing," Bea murmured. She turned and gave Allie a luminescent smile. "Thank you."

Allie smiled. "Yeah, it's pretty awesome." She reached out and took Bea's hand, gently tugging her. "Come on."

Once in the wings Allie took her down a winding staircase which led underneath the stage and into one of the dressing rooms. The room was filled with the actors personal touches, flowers and good luck cards. Everyone they bumped into was friendly and accommodating and full of tales of the theatre and previous productions.

They picked-up some sandwiches and a bottle of fizz Allie had reserved at the theatre bar. Then she and Red sat in the audience, row H, and ate their sandwiches and sipped their glasses of prosecco.

The actors started coming back from lunch in dribs and drabs and were soon running a full dress rehearsal. Red watched in fascination while Allie leaned in beside her, whispering little titbits of information in her ear and making her giggle. So-and-so wasn't speaking to so-and-so because they had had a one-nightstand and she found out the next day that he was married. So-and-so had had a temper tantrum and got an understudy fired, who was the director's nephew, so they weren't speaking. It was drama city. She and Allie watched with amusement as all the people not speaking to each other tried to negotiate a rehearsal. It was farcical and, Bea found, far more entertaining than the actual performance. As she and Allie laughed together, Bea knew her enjoyment had more to do with Allie's proximity and the thrill that ran through her every time their arms brushed or Allie's warm breath coasted across her skin, rather than the antics onstage.

Allie made everything fun and Bea had little of that in her life. It was a pleasing diversion and one she'd like to continue. With Allie she forgot all the strife at home. Her stroppy daughter, overbearing sister and aging parents faded from her mind. She liked this feeling. Liked their private bubble. Allie was easy to talk to and Bea felt unfettered, as if she could say anything. It was refreshing. Usually she could only speak her mind to Franky and Maxine (a close friend from self-defence class).

And she wasn't imagining the appreciative looks Allie kept giving her, the sexy lilt of her voice or the hooded eyes. It stirred something deep in her belly. Something she thought she'd lost. Ever since the divorce three years ago, Bea's confidence had taken a pounding. Harry had been a control freak and difficult to live with but the night he hit her was the night she left. It had been an awful and violent ending to their marriage but she knew, after he'd attacked her, she couldn't go back.

She'd taken Debbie and stayed with her parents while she contacted a divorce lawyer. Of course Harry had shown up on the doorstep, shouting the odds, pounding on the door, making threats and cursing her. Then crying and pleading followed by more threats as he threw a rock through the window of the front room. Her Dad called the police and Harry was arrested. It didn't improve things between them but it helped her win custody of Debbie.

She'd started to reconstruct her life then, without Harry. Though she still got the occasional phone call in the middle of the night and when she answered, no one spoke but she could hear them breath and she was absolutely certain it was him. Trying to scare her. Shithead.

As Allie leaned in, lips close to her ear, breath warm against her skin, all those horrible memories faded. She was safe and with someone she liked... quite considerably. Allie whispered that the guy playing Fiyero was in fact allergic to the green body paint the actress playing Elphaba was covered in, so every time he kissed Elphaba he had to run off stage and get an allergy shot. This made them fall onto giggles as they watched Fiyero sweep Elphaba up in his arms, kiss her passionately and then hightail it ungracefully off-stage for his shot.

"Why didn't they get someone else to play the part?" Bea asked.

"It's his dream role, he says it's worth the inconvenience of almost dying during every performance."

"Sweet really," Bea said.

Allie grinned. "Never heard anyone call anaphylactic shock 'sweet' before."

Bea rolled her eyes good-humouredly. "I meant it's sweet that he's so passionate about something, so committed. I envy people with that kind of passion in their lives."

Allie's large eyes looked soulful as she gazed at Bea. "You'll have that kind of passion in your life one day."

Bea smiled and dipped her head. "I don't know, I think some people are destined not to."

Allie smiled confidently. "You will."

They finished their sandwiches and most of the bottle of wine, and somehow four glorious hours had gone by. Bea couldn't believe it when she checked her watch.

"I have to go," she said dolefully.

Allie looked equally disappointed but walked her back to the stage door.

"I'll see you tonight?" Bea said hopefully. "You'll come and say hello?"

Allie nodded. "Of course."

"I really enjoyed today, thank you," Bea murmured.

"Me too. We should do it again," Allie said. "I mean hang out - not sit in the theatre gossiping about the cast!"

Bea's smile grew wider. "I'd like that."

A backstage crew member popped their head round the corner. "Allie, the Director's looking for you. Keith's flying wire hook up is too low and he keeps hitting the wall instead of flying out through the window with the rest of the monkeys!"

"Be right there!" Allie bellowed in return. She glanced apologetically at Bea. "Duty calls."

"I'll leave you to it. The last thing you need is a comatose flying monkey on opening night!" Bea teased.

Allie laughed. "I'll see you tonight, Red. I'm looking forward to it."

Bea smiled, liking the sound of her nickname on Allie's lips and the soft look in her eye.

"I'd better go," Bea said but didn't move.

They stood looking at each other for a moment, then Allie brushed aside any reservations and placed a gentle and brief kiss on Bea's lips. When she drew back Bea's eyes were closed and she looked a little dazed but pleasantly surprised.

Bea opened her eyes and gazed up at Allie, a smile breaking across her face.

"Now you can go," Allie whispered.

"See you later," Bea replied breathily and left via the stage door, giving Allie a small wave as she went. Floating on air as she walked towards her car.

Bridget spent the morning with Vera at her Lamaze class. Jake was doing another double shift at the hospital, which he'd taken last minute, and had to miss the class. Again. Bridget respected his desire to provide for his family but letting Vera down repeatedly was not a promising start. He was so focused on what he considered 'doing his best' that he failed to notice what Vera actually needed from him – support, reliability and for him to share the important moments, such as Lamaze class. Money was vital but not more vital than all the things he was missing.

After the class they had a light and nutritious lunch at Vera's. Bridget cooked, she liked to make a fuss of Vera when she could, Vera rarely let herself be pampered, her self-esteem issues were deeply imbedded but Bridget was slowly helping to weed them out.

On her way home Bridget called into The Java Parlour. She sauntered up to the counter and Franky's face lit-up, her smile impossibly wide.

"Hey gorgeous," Franky greeted.

Bridget leaned across the counter and placed a gentle kiss on her lips. Bridget drew back and held Franky's eyes, smile matching her. "I've been thinking about you all day."

"Ditto."

Franky leaned in and kissed Bridget again.

"Ugh, get a room!" Boomer grumbled. "You're making the pastries blush, hey."

Franky rolled her eyes. She took Bridget's hand and guided her towards the kitchen.

"Booms, watch the counter," she called over her shoulder.

"Sure," Boomer said, already eyeing-up the pecan pies. "Take as long as ya need."

Franky led Bridget through the double doors of the kitchen. Once they were alone she cupped Bridget's face, her thumbs brushing the smooth skin of her cheeks. "You look good," she whispered.

"So do you," Bridget replied and tilted her head up to capture Franky's mouth with her own.

Their arms wrapped around each other and Bridget drew Franky tightly against her. Their kisses quickly became desperate and greedy. Franky's hands slid into Bridget's hair and Bridget nipped at Franky's bottom lip with her teeth.

Bridget had been fantasising about Franky all day. In fact, it had led to a rather awkward moment in the Lamaze class when the instructor had led the mothers-to-be through several panting exercises to control their breathing during labour. Bridget had all but squirmed in her seat as the highlights of what she and Franky had got up to last night flashed through her mind.

"Are you alright?" Vera had asked, noticing Bridget's discomfort.

"Fine," Bridget had mumbled, trying desperately to concentrate on what she should be doing and not super-hot thoughts of her new lover.

Vera had pestered her for details of her date over lunch. When Bridget finally caved (coasting over the more intimate aspects) all she'd got was an "oh my" as Vera blushed profusely, which had made Bridget laugh.

Bridget scratched her nails down Franky's back, deepening the kiss. Franky moaned and regretfully drew back, pressing their foreheads together.

"Last night was pretty fuckin' spectacular," Franky said.

Bridget grinned. "It was."

"Anytime you want a repeat performance..."

"Oh, I think that's a given," Gidget murmured, sending a shiver through Franky.

"Are you free now? Can you stick around?" Franky asked.

"I might be persuaded," Bridget said playfully and wrapped her arms about Franky's neck.

Franky quirked an eyebrow. "Oh yeah? What'll it take?"

Bridget pressed a kiss to a sensitive spot just below Franky's ear. "A muffin and a ringside seat to your spectacular arse!"

Franky circled her arms around Bridget's waist and slid her hands lower, over Gidge's haunches and gripped her backside, squeezing and pulling her tauter against her body. Earning her a pleased squeak from Bridget.

"I think that can be arranged," Franky teased and sealed the deal with another kiss.

"Come on," Bridget said as she broke the kiss before they got carried away. She pulled out of Franky's arms. "We'd better get back before Boomer thinks I've kidnapped you."

"I can think of worse fates!" Franky joked as she let Bridget tug her towards the door.

When they returned to the coffee shop counter Boomer was eating a pecan pie. "Wasn't expectin' ya back so soon," she said without a morsel of guilt and sucked the last remnants of golden syrup off her thumb. "But self-control is good ya know, yeah, cos ya shouldn't be gettin' freaky in a food prep area. Hygiene and that."

Bridget moved back to the customer's side of the counter. "Don't worry Boomer, we kept it to a PG rating."

"Barely," Franky winked at her friend.

Boomer shook her head. "Too much info, hey."

Franky laughed.