Deaf Kitty Part IV
Frank Foster and Angela Canning turned out to be quite ill-matched, but perhaps not if regarded as business partners. Picture Aragorn wearing a pair of black and clear, 1960s style NHS wayfarer spectacles and you could be excused for confusing him with Frank Foster. There was something wild or unkempt about him, from longish hair to casual manner of dress which included a long, black leather coat. I later learnt that while he was the money as well as the name behind Foster Vintage, his involvement was more of the dilettante who went on business trips in order to acquire both stock and notches to his belt. Being in his mid-thirties, a few years older than Eileen, he was a very handsome and attractive man – and didn’t he know it!
Angela Canning was his opposite in just about every way. She oozed business person out of every pore of her body from her close-cropped ball of dyed black hair, angular, lean face ameliorated by a pair of black designer frames and a smart business suit, even on this day off. She was the brains of the partnership who had helped Frank flog the initial collection and then set about turning it all into a profitable business. In spite of her somewhat comely appearance, she had a deep, mellifluous voice that made one instinctively like and trust her, not a bad trait to have for someone in business!
They had come over to Clacton for a short week-end holiday after closing on Saturday and had chosen to have their dinner early at the Carvery. After introducing the others and asking me how I was faring, Eileen told me they were staying at the Kingcliffe Hotel, which is more or less just down the road from Mrs Hayden’s. As I was working, there was precious little time to talk, even if Frank suggested I drop by the Kingcliffe for a drink after closing.
“Frank. I know you would like that, but the poor girl will be knackered after her shift, won’t you love?”
“To tell you the truth Ms Canning, eight hours straight is all I can think off.”
“There you go Frank! You’ll have to wait until Sunday. You see Kitty, we’re thinking of making tomorrow an all-day out so why don’t you come over for lunch and we’ll take it from there.”
“Oh, all-right Angela. I’ll guess I’ll have to sleep alone even if you know I don’t like it. ‘Fraid of the dark I am, Kitty. I live in constant fear that someone’s always there” Frank quoted some lyrics I recognised but couldn’t place and winked at me. Even if I’m not wildly experienced, I could tell what his intentions were. I duly blushed which caused all three of them to laugh.
Eileen quickly squeezed my wrist. “Don’t worry, Kitty. There’s a full pair of certified chaperones here to keep Frank in line. Think we ought to get little Frank his own night-light at ASDA before they close, Angela?” She winked and I blushed again. I was beginning to feel like one of our Sunday Roasts with three people eager to do the carving, but Frank was rather handsome, wasn’t he…
They’d told me they wanted me to do some modelling for them, outdoors if the weather allowed, so would I wear one of my second-hand dresses for them, please? And no glasses. Eileen had told them so they knew that sometimes I was bare-eyed, sometimes highly myopic by choice, but the frames I were to model had various prescriptions from demo lenses to correcting for mild short-sightedness to ditto long-sightedness, so wearing Sally’s would be worse than useless.
Their choice of the Kingcliffe was a logical one from that point of view. Not only did it have both a dining room and a pub. It was also separated from the easily accessible Promenade by nothing more than the main road to Frinton, the King’s Parade, as well a stone’s throw away from a huge open park where the local Cricket and Rugby clubs played their matches in separate, distant corners and there was a playground somewhere too, only one had to find it in that vast, open space. Between these locations, they were bound to get plenty of useable shots – if I would cut it as the model that is!
We’d met up in the dining room for a grilled sole and some white wine to go with before setting off. It was excellent. Frank was going to do the actual photography with Alice directing proceedings. There were a couple of dozens of frames to go through, but first Alice completely redid my make-up, taking me up to her room, and then sent me ahead wearing a blue-and-pink aluminium 1950s style cateye frame of their manufacture – they handcraft frames in their shop too and it was that kind of eyewear that made up the bulk of their business.
The weather had stayed nice even if there was a photogenic wind that not only made hearing anything but the wind difficult for me. It also threatened to whip up the skirt of my white dress at every turn. “Very Monroe-esque”, Frank told me between gusts with an appreciative grin before bending back behind the camera. “You certainly do have the legs!”
In the end they pronounced themselves very satisfied and told me the job was mine if I wanted it – assisting in the boutique and help customers select frames with the odd modelling job thrown in every now and then. I would learn on the job, “Ne’er you fear Kitty”, Angela told me when I voiced my concerns. The wages offered were quite good too; £340 a week plus a bonus for the modelling thrown in every now and then.
“You live here, don’t you Kitty?”
“Yes Angela. I rent a room no more than a quarter of a mile from here and commuting is no problem.”
“If you don’t mind, how much?”
“£80 a week, no meals.”
“More than 300 a month?!? No wonder that Mrs Hayden is able to keep her house and in style too! Look Kitty, during Holiday season, that might be a fair price but definitely not this time of year!” Eileen was upset on my behalf. “Tell you what. I have this three-bedroom house in Alresford, it’s 10 minutes from Colchester by car, and ever since Sarah moved out there’s plenty of space to house you and your wardrobe of retro fashions with room to spare. I’ll let you have your own room for £100 a month and you’ll be saving a lot on commuting too. Only I expect you to do your share of the housekeeping. Besides, it would be good with some human company in the evenings and not just the cat. What do you say, Kitty?”
“Wow! That’s very kind of you Eileen, it’s an offer I probably can’t refuse.” I made a rapid calculation. The fixed wage alone would be more than what I was making at the Carvery, gratuities included. I’d save just over £200 a month on rent alone against which I’d have to set the cost of commuting, although that wasn’t astronomical by any means. “But what if you, erm…, find someone else?”
“Not so soon after Sarah. Besides, I’d give you plenty of notice, if and when. Also, you’d be under my eyes so to speak if there’s any change in your hearing.” She winked at me and I laughed at her jest.
In the end, I agreed and would take up my new position a fortnight from now. On the job, I was to wear spectacles, but not Sally’s strong ones! They would give me an eye examination and I would be issued contacts for a much more modest, yet distinctive prescription of –5 plus a few pairs of their retro frames to alternate between at no cost to me. As for dress code, I was to wear what I pleased although they would look upon it favourably if I wore clothing that matched their frames. That sounds like an ideal job to me! Not only being allowed to wear the kind of outfits I like but the specs as well!
After a celebratory dinner, Eileen took me over to view her house on Wivenhoe Road in Alresford as I would be working Tuesday ‘til Sunday next shift. She has a beautiful home and the back garden looks out over the undulating fields of Essex and there’s plenty of choices if and when I want to take a walk. The room itself is quite large, with a nice, comfy bed as well as several large closets. The bathroom however is shared and I can foresee some interesting moments. Not that Eileen is in anyway pushy or scheming, she’s a thoroughly nice person. But knowing her preferences, there is bound to be some awkward moments. For both of us.
Having made my farewells at both the Carvery where the boss made a last-ditch attempt to retain me by offering to match the salary, and to Mrs Hayden who was not best pleased to see me go so suddenly, I moved in as a tenant of Eileen’s on November 9th and quickly settled in, same as I did at my new job. I’m a fast learner, Angela says, and I feel that I am pulling my weight right from the word go. Also, I love having several different styles of frames to choose from, each of which slightly, subtly or dramatically alter my appearance. At my eye examination, it was discovered that I am very mildly myopic as well as having ever so slight astigmatism in both eyes, so in order to wear my new –5 prescription, I only need +4 contacts with the glasses correcting for the minor astigmatism.
Living with Eileen is easy, such a difference from Mrs Hayden where I had to be on my guard at all times even if she wasn’t that bad! Another bonus is to have not only Saturday evenings but the whole of Sunday plus one day during the week off. Eileen has plenty of interesting books to read; fact as well as fiction, and I’m now an avid reader, something I never was before. Since Eileen has the whole weekend off, she does the cooking on Saturdays while Sunday is my baby. I guess I won’t escape the roast even if I’ve managed to get out of the carvery!
It turns out Eileen too is into glasses and has been ever since she got her first pair at the age of thirteen. She has a large collection and prefers the 1970s to 80s era while I prefer the 1950s or the late 1960s. She’s only –2.25 or so, but she actually prefers to wear strong plus glasses in oversize frames. Since London is only an hour by train, we sometimes slip off there for some culture, me wearing my minus fourteen glasses and she her plus fives and don’t we just make people turn their heads be it in a restaurant, Harrods –only looking! – a museum or the theatre! I am sooo happy I decided to leave ‘Nurwei’ behind! What is Karl Johan even on ‘Syttende Maj’, May 17th, the national day, to London on any day of the year!
After we had returned from such a jaunt in mid-December, we both felt it was too early to retire for the night, so we sat down over a couple of glasses of pinot gris to talk. While Eileen said she was happy to discover that there was so much depth to me, there was one thing she was wondering about: “You’ve been here for a month now and I haven’t even heard a whisper or hint about a young man. There’s never even a touch of aftershave on your cheeks as you return, Sissel.” She always calls me Kitty otherwise, “A young woman really does need to be taken to bed every once in a while if she’s to stay happy, trust me.”
“We-el, I’m kind of waiting for Frank to return from his trip to the States.” Frank had left soon after I had taken up my position for a month-long business trip to the USA but should be home next week.
“Frank? Eileen expressed her surprise, then sighed. “If it is what your heart is set upon… Look Sissel. I don’t mean to pry, but… Are you experienced?”
“You mean, am I a virgin? No, I am not. I’ve had a few affairs, mostly short ones with boys my own age and once even with a girl.” I gave a bitter laugh. “With they way I looked, it took a long time for boys to discover me and those that did, well, I didn’t exactly set their world on fire.”
“Which is what Frank sees and expects from you. Oh be careful, dearest Kitty, so you don’t get hurt! Frank’s had so many women and girls I’m sure he couldn’t name them all even if his life depended upon it.”
“Eileen… Can I ask you something?” She nodded. “What is it like? You know?”
“You mean being with a woman as compared with a man?” It was my turn to nod. “But didn’t you just say…?”
“Well, yes, but Astrid… It was just like being with a boy. You know, tongue rammed down your throat, a couple of hands squeezing your tits for ten seconds before one’s rammed home, down there.”
“Oh Kitty, I’m sorry to hear that. It shouldn’t be that way!”
“No? What way should it be like then? Please? Tell me?”
For a few moments, Eileen did not reply. Absent-mindedly, I adjusted my hearing aids, increasing the volume. It was fast becoming second-nature.
“When I grew up, I went to an all-girls school, Northwood, northwest of London. It was a good school, very good, but there were drawbacks to it. One of those being that the only boys available were local and with us a highly-selected lot, most of us really were a cut or two above the poor lads. You see, the school had a reputation for snotty, condescending upper-class brats which to be fair most of us weren’t. So when we began to experiment, there really wasn’t any choice but to turn to another girl – or to wait for the short few weeks of the holidays.” She helped herself to another glass, asking me if I fancied another, which I did.
“Just going by stats, one in ten is gay and another one in ten bi. At the very least. At a school such as Northwood, the incidence, if that’s the correct word for it, rises to about one in five meaning during their school years, two out of five will try it on a more regular basis.”
“It turns out that I was one of those one in five that are both but that after leaving and going on to Guy’s and St Thomas, my experiences with men were very much like yours. I did try, if nothing else to please my parents, but I quickly discovered that I preferred being with a woman. It’s so much more gentle and loving. A man has to be very experienced as well as kind and considerate, Kitty, and those traits aren’t easy to find. The few that are usually have been snapped up by some lucky girl already and all you can do is try to win them away. And if you succeed, is he really worth having? I mean, someone else might come along and wrest him away from yourself in turn.”
“And then Sarah came along. She was a couple of years younger than myself and I fell head over heels, completely forgetting I was supposed to find myself a husband. Instead we soon became a couple and my parents washed their hands of me, saying that while I was always welcome, I was their daughter after all, Sarah was not. For a while we were very happy, settling down to live here.”
“So what happened?” I refilled our glasses.
“Bloomin’ Tom Wyznowsky, that’s who. You won’t ever have heard of him. He is a Yank and just like those here during the War he was overpaid, oversexed and Over Here. He’s a top-notch surgeon and he was here on an exchange and when he went back, he took Sarah with him. They’re married now and expecting their second. It really hurts, Kitty, it really does.”
“I’m so sorry, Eileen. It doesn’t matter really, does it? No matter who you are and what you do, there’s always someone else. I think Sally may be seeing someone, finally. I hope so for her sake. But she’s so very different the few times we chat nowadays.”
“So you really do love her, don’t you?”
“Not that way! Yes, I do love Sally for who she is but I can’t see us making out, so to speak.”
“Hmm… That’s Agapé.”
“Aga…, who?”
“Eros and Agape, the physical aspect of love and the love between souls respectively.”
“Yes, that’s how I love her, I suppose.”
“You don’t sound completely convinced, Kitty?”
“No, I’m not, am I… There are times when I wish…”
“Well…, it is getting late and I think we both could do with some sleep. Thanks for a fabulous evening and a nice chat!” She grabbed both glasses and the now empty bottle as she got to her feet, gave me a perfunctory peck on the cheek and was off. It was already well past midnight and even if I had the day off, I rather fancied a bit of sleep myself.
But sleep would not come immediately. Once I found myself in bed, I kept thinking about it and it just would not leave me. Could I be one of the one-in-ten who are both whereas Sally is firmly straight? Could it be that I have been telling myself there’s nothing in it all these years just so I don’t realise that for me, there’s Eros too? And wasn’t it strange that Eileen had deliberately broken off the minute I had headed there? Then I thought about Frank and what it would be like to be taken into those arms, to turn my face up, expectantly, eyes half-closed. As I came, for a fleeting moment, wasn’t it Eileen who looked deep into my eyes before I banished her in favour of the image of Frank?
But when Frank was back the following week, he not only had brought thousands of fabulous (and quite a few not-so-fabulous) frames for us to carefully disassemble and refurbish. Frank had also brought his own strain of influenza with him so he stayed well away, which left us to go through the lot with everyone chipping in. Anything carrying the slightest whiff of vinegar had to go as it’s a certain sign that the plastic is decomposing, but not before we had made a 3D scan of it for possible later use. There was one frame that I particularly liked, but not for myself! It was a semi-rimless 1950s cateye in aluminium with rhinestones even if some where missing and it needed some work. Under the tutelage of Oliver, I repaired it myself and replaced the old glass gems with cubic zirconia brilliants. I then ground and fitted the lenses, +5 with some astigmatism. This was going to be my Christmas present to Eileen, who had warned me she was going to get me a little something.
Christmas I spent with my parents in our log cabin in Tröndelag. There was as usual plenty of snow and some magical nights of Northern lights, the Aurora Borealis. Norway isn’t all bad after all and I would like to take my future children over to spend Christmas and the New Year here. They’d love it, cavorting in the snow on their toboggans or skis, making snow angels and coming in, cheeks all rosy, for Mummy to make them some hot chocolate which they would drink in front of the fire.
My parents were naturally aghast at my aural damage although they had to admit that with the hearing aids there was no way to tell, really, and they were practically invisible if I let my hair down. Of course they wanted me to move back home, to enter University or to get myself a job close to home. I had to break it to them that it was not going to happen. For better or worse, their little Sissel had spent her formative years in England and now thought of herself as English, not Norwegian. Of course they wanted to know if I had met someone yet – some people can’t wait to become grandparents, can they!
My Christmas present from my parents was a “lusekofte”, the traditional ‘sensible’ Norwegian knitted sweater with silver clasps in place of buttons. While very expensive and excellent for going on hikes in rugged Norway, I just could not see myself wearing that in either Foster Vintage or at home in Wivenhoe Road. The present from Eileen was far more useful though; three pairs of ear moulds with tubing for me to attach myself. That’s why she had made me practice replacing them so often! They were all clear but one pair had golden flakes, another metallic green ones and the third magenta. I immediately fitted the golden flake ones to my hearing aids!
Just before I was going back for the New Year, Sally told me that she was engaged to Glenn, an intern at the BMC. They were going to get married once he had served his internship and had become fully qualified and she was so happy! As we were chatting, of course I congratulated her and them and was very happy for my friend, I could not help but feel the loss too. My beautiful and staunch friend from childhood with her strong glasses and her hearing aids was slipping away from me. Deep down, I’d always known that this day would come but it was still with a sense of something precious gone forever that I signed off.
For the New Year, Eileen took me along to a party organised by some friends of friends. Frank was there too and I was partnered to him for the dinner. Eileen was wearing her new glasses and looked fabulous in them. She got to dance a lot! Although it was a fabulous party, Frank soon got drunk and left me on my own mostly. I too got to dance a lot even if I was one of the youngest people there, not yet twenty for another couple of weeks. Frank then returned from the Pool table and insisted I accompany him upstairs. I was a bit apprehensive, but I comforted myself with the fact that he’d been there and done it all, many times before.
I should have listened to those nagging doubts! Drunk Frank was anything but pleasant and once alone, he proceeded more or less to rape me, calling me a frigid bitch when I tried to slow him down. He hurt me, then he left me crying on the bed, telling me that if he’d wanted a Virgin, he’d flown Atlantic. Enamoured by his own wit, he repeated this over and over again as he did up his breeches and then, thankfully, stumbled out in search of more booze and willing company, leaving me to my pain, shame and tears.
I don’t know how long I was lying there in the dark, crying my heart out, before Eileen came to find me. She said nothing, took a look and told me that while I had been hurt, I was not badly so. She then began to berate herself for not keeping a better look-out, knowing that Frank tended to get drunk – “But I never imagined him being capable of this!”
“Eileen, it doesn’t matter. It’s my own fault. I wanted him and now I wish I hadn’t. Please Eileen, take me home and just hold on to me.”
“Of course, Kitty! Let’s get you cleaned up a bit first before we go. For your sake, I’d rather not call attention to what happened.”
I nodded. “Thank you, Eileen. I’ve been so stupid!”
“Stupid? That implies doing something against better knowledge and how could you have known? No Kitty, if anyone has been stupid, it is me. I should have listened more closely to those rumours and this might never have happened.”
“Eileen…?”
“Yes Kitty?”
“It is I who should have listened and I who should have seen all along. I should have known myself better, I really can’t blame Frank as I didn’t even know my heart myself. Eileen, if you’ll have me, I think I do now.”
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All this happened some years ago now. I am now legally Catherine Pritchard and once more, I am pregnant. After the New Year’s party, I had wanted to resign from Foster Vintage. Once he had sobered up, Frank was very ashamed about how he had treated me, apologising profusely and even going as far as to get himself admitted to rehab. So in the end, I didn’t resign but spent the spring and summer teaching myself everything there was to know about the optician’s and opthalmologist’s trades. In the Autumn of that year, I enrolled at Guy’s and St Thomas and I graduated five years later. My present from Eileen was that eye operation I have always wanted, she said she feared I would one day sneak off to have it done abroad with disastrous consequences, so now I really am a minus 14 myope with no astigmatism – and I love it!
Eileen and I got pregnant at the same time and our children, her Lottie (Charlotte) and my Ginny (Guinevere) were born a couple of weeks apart, which was practical. With me only recently qualified, Eileen had to get back to work as soon as possible, so it fell upon me to take care of the children. They are almost three now but I still breastfeed them. Why? Have you ever listened to a pair of children suckling away happily with your hearing aids turned right up while your SO holds on to you? The children love it, I love it and Eileen loves it too. Before I forget, Frank, while not exactly husband material, is an excellent choice as the father of Lottie and Ginny, they are both just too beautiful for words! But they do tell us that when they grow up, they too are going to have hearing aids and glasses, “Jutt like Mummy Kitty”. Children!
But like I said, I am pregnant again and this time it is twins and AI. I am having Sally’s and Gerry’s fraternal twins, a boy and a girl, as Sally cannot and Gerry did after all discover that he really did want children. At first when I offered, they wouldn’t hear of it. Then they began discussing ways and means to screen ovae and zygotes to make certain none carried the Stickler gene until I firmly told them no.
“Don’t you realise that what you are doing is screening out Sally and if that had happened, the world would have been a far less beautiful place. The child can either be yours and you take the chance that he or she may have Stickler’s. Or it can be Gerry’s in which case I’ll donate the ova. But you are not killing Sally!” In the end they settled for the second option and I’m so happy that I am finally able to repay the debt I owe Sally. Without her, life would have been hell for me as a child and I never would have discovered my love of both glasses and hearing aids, nor would I ever have found Eileen or had my beautiful Ginny and her Lottie.
In the end, life has been good to Deaf Kitty!
Statistics: Posted by Zennia — Mon Feb 29, 2016 4:10 pm