Chapter 5

“It is hypocritical,” Josephine nodded and looked askance at her, “but he cannot argue now, so maybe we should today?”

“Today?” Agnes glanced at her.

“It is Saturday,” she replied, “I will buy the tea or maybe we can find some coffee.”

“I’ve only had coffee a couple of times,” Agnes admitted.

“So, what do you think, shall we do it?”

“All right, just let me change out of these old clothes.”

Her outfit that afternoon consisted of a knee-length skirt and one of the blouses she’d bought from the charity shop. It had ruffled pleats down the front and a Peter Pan collar and despite the fact it was spring, she buttoned it to the top and put on a cardigan and coat. Josephine’s outfit was far nicer she thought. The other woman had opted for a white tie blouse and the French black trousers she’d worn the first time they’d met.

“You look nice,” she commented as Josephine buttoned a jacket.

“Thank you,” Josephine ran an eye over her, “you look pretty as well.”

“Don’t,” she smoothed out the skirt, “this is just an old skirt and the blouse must be even older.”

“Even so, you wear it well,” she took a step closer, “I have a blouse like that in America, I left a lot of clothes in the wardrobe.”

Agnes swallowed as she fixed her eyes on the elegant blouse Josephine was wearing, the tie was tied into an elegant bow and almost without thinking she fingered a tie end. Josephine didn’t even flinch as she did so and somewhat disorientated, Agnes released the tie.

“We should get going.”

“After you,” Josephine indicated.

The Barras was a hive of activity as people took advantage of the warm April day to pour into the market streets. There were dozens of bargains but Agnes only bought two items, a jacket that looked in reasonable condition and a rug.

Afterwards they retired to a café where Josephine ordered coffee whilst Agnes read a newspaper. The front page declared the end of the North African campaign when General Von Liebenstein formally surrendered to the Allies. She read the article twice as she recalled letters and postcards Frank had sent home from Egypt and Palestine. It was a bittersweet moment because although he had given his life for this moment he obviously wasn’t there to savour it.

“What do you think they will do now?” Agnes glanced at Josephine who always seemed to know more than others about the conduct and possible outcomes of the war.

“They will have to decide on where to strike next,” she stared at the small map that showed the Mediterranean, “Greece, Italy or Southern France.”

“France would be better I should think.”

“It is too well defended,” she replied, “it will be Italy, the Italians have no stomach for war, unless it is a gastronomic war and then they will fight to the last cook.”

Agnes smiled at that as she took a sip of coffee. It tasted quite strong and almost heady, she closed her eyes and let the warmth spread downwards.

“Hmm, mm, I could use more coffee,” her eyes opened, “it is always so expensive.”

Josephine didn’t reply to that but she didn’t need to, Agnes sensed it would be on her next shopping list when she was teaching German to her students. The talk moved from the war to other matters, food, clothes and what to eat that night. She felt a slight pull towards the other woman and yet in this place she felt quite restrained and yet relaxed.

However when they got off the bus and headed towards the house some of that wariness began to shift. She almost felt like a giddy teenager again as she fumbled with her front door key and dropped it.

“And I haven’t even been drinking,” she grinned.

“Allow me,” Josephine bent down at the same time and when she looked across she was inches from her face. Agnes swallowed and then rose as Josephine handed her the keys.

“Are you all right?”

“I’m fine,” she mumbled as she turned the key, “a moment of weakness.”

It was an admission that followed her inside as Josephine closed the front door and as Agnes stepped into the front room she felt as if she was being mentally disrobed and strangely that felt almost exhilarating.

“A moment of weakness,” Josephine spoke up, “are you saying what I think?”

“Would it displease you if I was?” Agnes turned to look at her as she placed her bags on one of the couches, “I have been thinking about this for longer than you think.”

“Intimate moments,” Josephine also put her purchases on the couch, “it has risks.”

“I know,” Agnes bit her lip, “but even I cannot deny that my feelings have changed, you have become more than a boarder and even more than just a friend but I am afraid of what will happen next. Aren’t we breaking the law?”

“Strangely enough no,” Josephine replied, “and believe it or not, our sex protects us, it is illegal for men to have sex with other men but the obscenity law doesn’t extend to women.”

Agnes stared at her as Josephine continued.

“It is a hangover from Victorian times, women’s minds were thought to be too feeble and it was also believed that sexual climax without a man was impossible and no woman in any position of power disagreed and so it has been ever since,” she smiled crookedly.

“I like to think in my own warped way that the women who kept their mouths shut might not have been also benefiting from this lack of scrutiny. We have been kept out of jobs that were reserved for men except when there weren’t enough men to do the job and even then we were supervised by men. We have women pilots in the ATA who fly planes from factories to RAF airfields. Women plot the position of aircraft for pilots in the air, women man radar stations, women work in factories, and some of us were even parachuted into Occupied Europe to kill Germans and help the resistance,” she sat down on the other couch.

“I’ve seen them on the newsreels once or twice,” Agnes pursed her lips, “I don’t know what I thought of women flying planes at first but these days I am getting used to the idea. I’m just surprised that they let them fly at all.”

“They need all the male pilots for combat roles,” Josephine replied, “every pilot who flies a plane from a factory to an airfield is one less pilot in the air fighting the Luftwaffe,” she ran a hand over her trousers.

“We are becoming a more equal society but when it comes to sex we are still supposed to belong to a man, but thanks to the short-sightedness of learned men in the previous century we lesbians have been left to our own devices. There is no law prohibiting you and I from having sex, there is just a law prohibiting us from getting married.”

“People would never approve,” she frowned, “it all seems so, so,” she looked past her, “so secretive, it is as if I would be living a secret life.”

“Did you tell the neighbours every time you had sex with your husband?”

“No of course not,” she blushed, “who would do such a thing?” Agnes looked away.

“But I am thinking of the future. How long can this go on for?”

“I have known women who have been together for years in similar arrangements, some are even open about it but most have an agreement with men to turn a blind eye. In my case we both know that our marriage is just a front. In America it is definitely frowned upon, in God they trust but everyone else is under suspicion. Roosevelt would dearly love to send more war materiel to Comrade Stalin but his Congress is worried that arming one dictator to fight another might backfire on them,” she fluffed out her hair.

“The point I am making is,” she stopped as Agnes turned suddenly towards her.

“I know about such things, forgive me if I seem hesitant. I think out loud when it comes to these things, so tell me. How would it be between us?”

“On the outside,” Josephine leaned against the back of the couch and stretched her arm along it, “I would be your boarder and your friend. At some point we might even file for a divorce, we have already drawn up agreements that need to be dated and signed.”

She looked past her, “he would accuse me of infidelity and I would not fight it, the property would be divided up but I would not ask for much because I don’t need much, which might please my father because he never liked him,” she smiled crookedly.

“But unofficially we would remain friends because I do love him, he has been a support and the only man I trust completely, but we are not there yet and may not be. He would like to move to another country where the laws are a little more liberal but right now we are at war and so he carries his cross.”

Agnes said nothing as she stared out the window. A woman was walking past, laden down with shopping bags her head bent against the wind that had been growing stronger these last couple of hours. How odd that she should be having such a conversation whilst outside the rest of the world went about its daily business.

“We would have to be careful,” she mused.

“Of course, it’s a façade I have been maintaining for a few years.”

“So, how does one begin?”

“Most things start with a kiss,” Josephine replied.

Agnes smiled at that but didn’t move for a minute or so, it was almost as if she was waiting for Josephine to make the first move but then she rose and crossed to the front window.

“It is getting darker,” she released the cord holding a curtain back, “we should close the curtains,” she pulled the curtain across.

“And lock the doors,” Josephine also rose.

Agnes merely inclined her head as Josephine locked the front and back doors, and when she came through Agnes was sitting on the couch, she’d just turned the lamp on and Josephine turned on the radio, which by strange coincidence was playing music by Glenn Miller.

“Music is a universal language,” Josephine neared the couch and held out her hand.

“When was the last time you danced?”

“So long I can’t remember,” she swallowed and then rose to take her hand.

“You must always remember to dance, even when no one is watching.”

Agnes felt a little giddy and anxious at the same time as they danced to one tune after another. She had never thought of herself as being a good dancer, merely adequate and whilst she had seen the Lindy Hop, she’d never tried to dance it. There were a few false starts punctuated by giggles as the other woman stopped to correct her clumsiness but after a little while she was able to master the steps, somewhat. She was nothing however compared to Josephine who had a fluidity that was definitely hypnotic, indeed she almost seemed to be a different person. She was freer and more uninhibited when dancing and every time she twisted her hips her breasts pushed out against the blouse and when they came closer they brushed up against hers.

However before too long she pleaded for respite despite her excitement and it was only then that Josephine slowed her movements down and drew her hands down Agnes’s back to the point where the zipper started. Their lips were mere inches from each other and Josephine pushed her belly against her as she danced her fingernails over Agnes’s buttocks.

The sensation was electric, sending delicious sensations up her spine. She wavered for a few seconds finding herself lost in another world and then she came back to reality to find that Josephine’s lips were even closer.

They kissed a few seconds later. It was a delicate kiss, almost platonic but as they parted she blinked and swallowed, Josephine’s fingers were exploring her buttocks. Fingernails dug into her buttocks and then they met in the middle and moved down to her upper thighs. She put her hands against Josephine’s breasts feeling their weight, Frank’s face flashed before her eyes and then she closed her eyes and tilting her head, kissed Josephine on the lips.

Prior to that moment Agnes couldn’t have imagined kissing another woman this way, she almost expected the roof to come down to make way for a lightning bolt. Instead there was just the desire for more of the same. Josephine’s lips parted and Agnes followed suit, working her lips slowly and firmly and then the moment was over and she was pulling back a little.

“Something wrong?” Josephine asked her.

“No,” Agnes looked at the radio, “that wasn’t so bad.”

They looked at each other again and then Josephine grabbed her buttocks firmly and kissed her several times on the lips with light, teasing kisses. There was a moment where Agnes really thought she might actually break free and call the whole thing off but then there was another kiss and another, until finally she exhaled and pulled back.

“It’s been a while for me.”

“I know the feeling,” Josephine replied as Agnes turned towards the two couches.

Agnes became aware of Josephine’s close proximity a few seconds later. The other woman traced her fingertips along her shoulders and at the nape of her neck they changed direction to travel down her spine. Because she exerted a little more pressure it caused Agnes to wince a little. Josephine reached the small of her back and then worked her way back up either side of her spine, finding the tenseness as she did so. When she reached her shoulders, she massaged them slowly and Agnes let out a loud groan.

“Oh my God, that feels good.”

“Then lie down on the couch,” Josephine guided her towards the larger of the two couches, “I am an expert in the art of massage.”

“Where did you learn that?” Agnes found herself saying as she knelt on the couch.

“The school of life,” Josephine pulled the cardigan partway down her back, “take this off.”

Agnes felt as if her heart was in her mouth as she undid the half a dozen buttons holding her cardigan closed and then Josephine was helping to remove it.

“Shall I take off my blouse?” Agnes asked her.

“You don’t have to,” Josephine pushed her forward, “besides, I don’t have any oil, there is a war on in case you haven’t heard.”

Agnes restrained a giggle as she laid down on her stomach. It felt somewhat cramped with her legs hanging over the end but Josephine didn’t sit on the edge like she expected. Instead she knelt down beside the couch and slowly massaged her shoulders.