Helen and Sharon

Helen & Sharon

By

Kay Hemlock Brown

Copyright © 2018 by Kay Hemlock Brown

Published at Smashwords (Smashwords.com)

Contents

Preliminaries

Introduction

Prologue

Westfield

The First Week

Marsha's Idea

The Pelican Movies

Natasha

Marsha's Plan

The Passion

Mr. Chips

Limelight

Back in the USA

Merit

Vancouver

Spain

Sita’s History

Sharon meets Sita

The Story

The end of filming

Sita and Lalitha

Back at work

Mastersingers

Merit hits the Big Screen

Helen visits Philadelphia

Helen wears a Saree

England

Christmas

Sita in London

Sharon in Hollywood

Grief

A midnight phone call

Funeral and Blood Sugar

The graveyard

Red Carpet

Crashing the Oscars

The Academy Awards

Florida

Aftermath

Travel with Sita

Helga

Conchita

Mother's Day race

Filming

Publicity

Retreat

End of Term

Philadelphia

Calamities and Trials

Sita

Echoes

Retirement

Sita bares her soul

The Fading of Sharon

Catastrophe

Helen crashes at the studio

Hospital

Helen back at home

Christmas

Vicky's Problem

Preliminaries

Introduction

This is a major excerpt from the story of Helen.

Helen, a long, rambling story that was originally never intended to be published, has gradually turned into something that is being published in segments. Because of the way it was written, Helen lent itself to segmentation, many of the episodes being essentially self-contained.

One suite of adventures had such a major impact on Helen’s life that it almost qualifies as a story in itself. Furthermore, rather than being a story that is confined to a short period, this one drags on for years, and events that take place many years later are directly related to the events of this story, so the events in this ‘episode’ are from all up and down the Helen saga, starting from when she began to teach at Westfield College.

However, the influence on the character’s life curve is not yet completely determined, because as I write this, I’m also writing the last few chapters of Helen’s life. The Sharon Vuehl story will be brought to a close (with the demise of Sharon Vuehl), but its final resolution must wait until I think a bit longer on what to do with Helen. This is embarrassing, but you know by now that you’re not dealing with a professional author!!

I will introduce the various characters in the Helen / Sharon story in the main text, many of them in the Prologue. As you read this excerpt, you will quickly see why it could influence Helen’s story so dramatically.

Bear in mind that these episodes are extracted from a large file (or many large files), and there is an enormous volume of interesting material that may have been relevant, which has been omitted. I will try my best to summarize the excluded material at the head of each chunk.

Some of the background material for this story is material found elsewhere, which is presented in small print. Essential background that is central to this story is presented as ordinary text.

Prologue

It’s Marsha, she said, when Helen had picked up the phone. Remember me?

Marsha Moore was a popular Hollywood actress. Helen, in her junior year at college, had decided to take the year off, and had some adventures, assisted by a strange woman called Sandy. This was, it turned out, Marsha Moore in disguise. Sandy was a sort of fairy godmother, who helped people disguise themselves and go on goofy escapades. Helen had to be bailed out by Sandy fairly frequently, but over the course of the year, Helen and Sandy fell in love. Helen had been pregnant at the time, with twins; but it turned into a high-risk pregnancy, and Sandy (Marsha Moore, of course) whisked Helen off to Hollywood, but she aborted, and Marsha encouraged Helen to return to college and finish her degree. It was now about 15 years later, Helen was a professor at a college.

Hi! said Helen, her heart falling like a stone.

Marsha knew instantly that Helen was unhappy, and gradually dragged it out of her. It wasn’t hard to convince Marsha that Helen was getting drawn into things that she couldn’t betray with their planned movie.

The whole idea is to shock them, Marsha reminded her, sounding very downcast.

Well … it would be nice to do just a raunchy movie, period, Helen said, equally mournfully. I just like the thought of a really tough gal, who really fights, really flirts, seduces all the guys, and walks off with the girl!

Oh, man! I wish I could tell you what I’ve got, so far!

Tell me!

But what’s the use?

Shit, said Helen, looking at the clock. Marsha, I have to go; rehearsal is in two minutes; I’m late. I’ll call you as soon as it’s over.

Think of a way we can do it! I’ll think, too. The only idea I have is that you do it incognito. That’s better than nothing!

Yeah … I thought of that. Anyway, I’ll call you! Bye!

Fortunately, the students were so well trained that the rehearsal went like butter, though Helen’s thoughts were far away.

Westfield

The First Week

A little less than a year before the events in the Prologue, Helen has just joined the faculty of a college in northwestern Pennsylvania, together with her friend and mentor Nadia van der Wert. Helen had three adopted daughters, Gena, 15, Erin, 10, and Alison, 2, who all lived with Helen’s friend Janet Kolb, and sundry friends, in the village of Ferguson in Minnesota. The older girls attended Ferguson School, of which Janet was the principal. Helen and her little boy James, six months old, lived in Westfield, with Nadia.

Helen had been teaching already for four days, and she welcomed Friday morning with far greater enthusiasm than she had ever done! After her little boy James had finished nursing at her breast, she laid him in his playpen where Nadia knew where to find him, and went off to shower. By seven, Helen, Nadia, and little James were all dressed and ready for school.

Today was going to be her last day keeping James with her at school; on Monday she would leave him with a young woman, Nicole, who lived close to the Campus, and who was expecting her first baby around Christmas.

Helen and Nadia walked the quarter mile or so to school, talking over a project they were working on. How are your classes coming along, Cherie? asked Nadia, who was Belgian.

Pretty well. I think I like the early morning freshmen the best. They love James, of course, especially the girls, but it works better when I leave him in my office. He’s a bigger distraction than he was at Ferguson! (Helen had taught at Ferguson briefly.)

The quarter mile was just about as much as Nadia could walk comfortably. She was nearly eighty years old, and her spindly legs couldn’t handle even her tiny weight on long walks. Both women had braids: Helen’s hair was a glorious thick rope of tightly curling golden-blond hair that used to hang down almost to her waist, but the braid was now just down to the middle of her back. Nadia wore her dark brown hair, sprinkled lightly with grey, in a thick plait. Nadia had been her collaborator and mentor for many years, and Helen loved her dearly.

The Music Department occupied a wing in a corner of the Academic Building, which also housed the practice rooms, and the usual things that one found in every music department anywhere: a library of music scores, a record library, an electronic equipment room, a room for choir rehearsals with risers, and lots of pianos. Every professor had a piano in his or her office. Helen and Nadia constituted two thirds of the Music Department, the other third being Rich Wilson. (All three professors had earned doctorates, but most of the time we will omit the title.)

Helen had arranged with a student to babysit James while she was in class, and this young lady was waiting when Helen and Nadia got in. Nadia kissed James farewell, and said, "Au revoir, mon ami!" and went into her office, and Helen got the little boy settled, and carefully getting her notes together, hurried off to her early morning Music Theory I class.

In this morning class, there were a few unavoidable minutes of talking about Helen-related matters which had nothing to do with music theory, but more to do with the Galaxy Show, which was a TV series in which Helen played an important character. From experience, Helen knew that it was better to let the kids get all that out of the way while she set out her notes and her equipment; if she cut them off, she hurt their feelings, and that got in the way of the lesson.

Helen was a musical all-rounder. She had gone to college on a choir scholarship, but discovered that she was an amazing violinist. By the end of her long college career, she was in great demand as a solo violinist, but also as a lyric operatic soprano. She still had a busy schedule of violin concerts all over the US, and occasionally abroad, but had mostly given up her singing. Her voice had dropped after little James had been born, but Helen loved to sing. Helen had founded a choir and small orchestra of amateurs while she was still in graduate school in Philadelphia, but for various reasons had had to leave the choir and orchestra to fend for itself for nearly two years. But, most excitingly, Helen now had a recurring part in a TV science fiction series that aired weekly on Saturday nights at 9 PM. It was set in the future, on an enormous space vessel called The Galactic Voyager (which its fans abbreviated to the Galaxy Show). On the show, Helen played a musical celebrity—of the distant future, of course—Cecilia Yorke, who had been put aboard this vessel. Once a month or so, Helen had to go to Seattle, Washington, to be filmed in the various scenes in which she would appear. The kids in her class were more interested in the "Galaxy Show" than in her various appearances as a concert violinist.

"So, on Wednesday we were looking at examples where Bach was using the melodic minor. Let’s look at some examples, and see whether you can spot the leading note, first, without the music on the screen. Obviously, anyone can do it with the music, right? There was a little nervous laughter. OK, here we go!"

Helen really wasn’t much more innovative than music professors anywhere else; the electronic and computer software gadgets commonly available made it much easier for students to get what she was trying to explain than it had been when Helen was in college herself. She went on to harder exercises, after which they started writing some basic harmony examples on paper. Music Theory I at Westfield was a rich mix of music appreciation and Theory.

By the time she finished the class and got back to her desk, James was beginning to fret. A few young things that followed Helen to her office simply had to coo over the baby, and the friendly little boy gurgled back at them like a miniature dirty old man. Helen smiled and thanked her babysitter, and arranged for when she would be needed again.

When do we get to see James’s dad, Dr. Nordstrom? Are you divorced?

Helen put down her materials and turned to her students with an exasperated look. Before she could answer, one of the girls realized that her friend might be getting just a bit too curious for good taste. Andie, that’s a bit personal.

Helen shrugged. I was not married to James’s Dad, Andie. He lives in Minnesota, and his name is Mr. Gibson, which is why James is James John Jeffrey Nordstrom Gibson! Right, my boy? Right!

"Whoa, what a mouthful! What’s it again? James John …"

At ten, Helen had an orchestration class for seniors, and that was a lot of fun. When she finished and got back to the office, the secretary Rita had a message for her.

Dr. Nordstrom, your Philadelphia office called for you, and said they’ll call back!

Helen had her own corporation. She had her own music recording company, an organization that maintained a website that had public domain scores of music by Johann Sebastian Bach—music written in the eighteenth century that was no longer under copyright—a charitable foundation that, among other things, provided free surgery for infants, which was essentially to support her dear friend Dr. Amy Salvatori, a brilliant orthopedic surgeon who had gotten to know Helen while the latter was still in college, and lastly, Helen’s corporation managed the finances that enabled Helen to keep up with a punishing concert schedule in addition to her teaching.

Did Becky say what she wanted me for? Helen asked, though she had a good idea.

Oh, a whole lot of things, which all I couldn’t completely understand, said Rita, regretfully. Rita was slightly overwhelmed by the volume of calls coming in for Helen since the semester had begun, but Rita had gotten to adore the new professor, who was so sweet and kind, and whose little baby boy was so delightful most of the time. James was just six months old, but was turning out to be quite a charmer. She … Becky, is it? Helen nodded. She’s going to call back after eleven, she said.

Helen didn’t have long to wait. She had just finished putting away her notes and her equipment and turned to her young son, when the desk phone rang.

Hello? Helen had learned not to assume that it would be Becky; too many people called her every day.

It’s Becky, said the well-known voice, soft and husky as always. Becky was a shy, retiring woman, but was a wonderful financial manager. She didn’t try to be sexy; her voice was just that way. Got a few minutes?

Yeah, this is a good time. Shoot.

OK, this is big. Remember the new web-servers that Gretchen set up for us?

Yeah? Helen was excited. The new web equipment made BachScores.org very powerful, and enabled Becky’s computer to handle an enormous number of hits all at the same time, so that downloading a free Bach score was quick and easy from practically anywhere in the world.

Well, there’s a way that we can hook up your office computer to our system, so that, you know, your PC is just as powerful as our system! It’s amazing. You share our drives, everything! We can host your software …

Oh. Helen was seriously underwhelmed. When she was still in grad school, students could use the University server to store files. Evidently Becky was offering server space for Helen, which she actually had already. But Becky, I’ve had files on your system for a couple of years, what …

"No, no. This is different! This is called tunneling; you can actually run this system from home. Your software can live here, you don’t need to have it locally. It’s a kind of distributed computing, where it’s almost as though you’re at a terminal in the office here!"

It took some time to convince Helen that this was significantly different from what Helen was familiar with, but eventually she figured out how it worked.

Next, we have a concert for you on Thursday in L.A., and a taping in Seattle over the weekend.

Helen sighed. This was the difficult part of the whole thing; whenever she had to leave Westfield on a weekday, Nadia had to cover her classes. Luckily, Helen’s Thursday obligations consisted of recitations only. But Friday she would miss two lectures.

Helen joined Nadia in her office for a lunch of sandwiches and salad, which Helen and Nadia had hurriedly put together early morning.

One of these days, we will have to go into the Cafeteria, Cherie, Nadia said, between chews. The faculty will think we are avoiding them, and that’s not good.

I know, but there just isn’t time!

Oh, there is. Your next class it at, what, 2:00?

Yeah, said Helen with a sigh. Anyway, I have bad news.

Bad news? What?

Concert on Thursday, in L.A. You have to cover for me.

Nadia grinned. Theory I, huh?

And Orchestration. They’re working on some simple things … it’s just the second week of classes!

Helen talked some more about what would go on in the recitations, and promised to have two complete lessons ready for Nadia, all on PowerPoint, and with all the musical examples on a single CD. Nadia laughed and said that when she had been in the Conservatory, all they had was a piano and a blackboard. Anyway, she said, she would improvise; at her age it was impossible to stick to a PowerPoint presentation without feeling ridiculous.

Do you get to visit the girls sometime this weekend?

Helen had three adopted daughters, Gena, fifteen; Erin, almost eleven; and Alison, almost three. They were, with James, the apple of her eye, and it was almost more than she could bear to have them live in Ferguson, Minnesota, with her friends Janet Kolb and Cindy Shaughnessy. When Helen began teaching at Westfield, Gena and Erin had begged Helen to let them stay at Ferguson, and keep Alison with them. Baby James, of course, had to stay with Mama. But Mama pined for the girls, especially Allie, whom she loved dearly. But everyone loved little Alison. So none of the girls had even seen Westfield yet.

Helen’s afternoon class only met on Mondays and Wednesdays, so after Nadia had finished with a couple of meetings, and Helen had gone through the huge volume of mail that had come in for her from Becky, they were free to head off home. Still, it was nearly four when they actually left.

As they walked past the football field, Helen and Nadia were surprised to be hailed by a number of enormous fellows in football outfits.

Dr. Helen! Dr. Helen! Hey! Come and watch us practice!

Helen laughed. She had done her share of watching football practice as a girl, and had quickly learned that it was not as exciting as an actual game.

Come on, Cherie, let’s just go and chat with them for a minute!

Oh, okay, said Helen with a sigh. Little James, in the carry seat strapped to her back was getting quite heavy.

There were now about a dozen grinning football heroes on the other side of the fence, waiting for the two women. Are you coming for the game Saturday?

Er, whom are you playing? asked Helen. They told her. It was a pre-season friendly game. Nadia offered to bring Helen along.

What’s the little guy’s name? they wanted to know. Helen told them that he was James, and they helped to get him off the carry sling, which was normally quite a difficult job for Helen to do alone. It helped to have a six-foot friend helping her.

Helen, being a minor celebrity, deserved to have a show from the football team. The two women politely refused to come inside and sit on the stands, but they watched from the sidelines. It was the defensive team against the offensive team, and Helen smiled as they attempted a spectacular throw from midfield, which was intercepted, resulting in a beautiful pileup.

Presently the downhearted team was allowed a quick farewell to Helen’s little family at the fence, and Helen and Nadia headed home.

It seems an interesting game, Cherie. But I keep wondering: how can they get a goal, if the other side is so good?

Helen laughed. I have no idea! That’s the sort of thing Dad would know, she mused. (Helen’s father lived on a farm in Kansas.)

Once the women got home, Nadia went in through her front door, while Helen dragged herself up the steps and through her front entrance. (The two apartments connected at the back.) She set the excited little baby in his high seat, while she got herself a drink of water.

She had forgotten how hard a weekend could be, when she was all alone. Being without a relationship was hard on anyone, but Helen found it harder than most.

She had recently been bereaved; Penny, the woman who had shared Helen’s life for the past two years had died over the summer, entrusting Erin to Helen’s care. She was one of the few women with whom Helen had had absolutely no conflicts, perhaps because they had been together so briefly. Before that, she had cohabited with a lovely Indian woman, Lalitha, but had had an affair with a babysitter, and wound up alone. The babysitter, a beautiful teenage dance student called Lorna, had moved in with Becky, while the Indian woman had found a new partner and settled down with her. But they all lived in different parts of Philadelphia, and Helen was torn between visiting her office in Philadelphia, and having to endure Lorna’s attentions, on the one hand, and staying away, so that Becky and Lorna could ‘gel’ as a couple.

At thirty-three, Helen suffered with unbearable lust. She could barely sleep at night, lusting after practically every woman she knew, especially sweet, beautiful, frustrating Lorna. Thus far, she had avoided looking very closely at the lovely young things at the college, though she was sorely tempted.

She had done grocery shopping on Thursday, and now she fixed up a meal for herself and old Nadia. Soon Nadia joined her, to make a little pasta, and put a salad together.

You look beautiful, Cherie, even when you’re tired! What it is to be young!

Oh Nadia… Helen never knew what to say to the childless old lady who lavished all her love on Helen, but was strict with her in many ways. You must have been young once! I’m sure you were as cute as anything in your time!

Nadia chuckled. Cute, maybe, she admitted. "But beautiful, no."

Nadia offered to take James off Helen’s hands for an hour or two. Do whatever you like, she had said.

Helen changed out of her work clothes, and looked at herself in the mirror, and only saw some of the excess weight she had put on while she was pregnant and not quite lost. She had been quite slim before she had become pregnant with James, but Helen was now a hefty 190 pounds, though she didn’t look heavy because of her height. She got into a leotard, and picking up an exercise video, headed to the work room at the back. She didn’t want to disturb Nadia with her pounding on the floor. (Nadia lived downstairs, and Helen’s was the upstairs apartment.)

It was still light when they had dinner. James had looked thoughtful, and harangued Helen with what sounded like a question.

What are you asking, James? You’ve got to learn to talk, little boy; we can’t go on like this!

Nadia studied her little boyfriend. "You know, Cherie, I have a feeling he wants to know where the girls are. Mon ami, are you inquiring about your sisters?"

Huh? asked James, looking alert.

Are you missing Allie, James? Remember Allie?

James pounded on his high seat with his spoon, declaiming mightily. The two women stared at each other, startled.

He’s too young to think of things like that! murmured Helen, looking at her little boy.

Who knows, Cherie? You’re a genius, and Jeffrey is a genius, so who can tell what a genius this one is? Isn’t it so, Mr. James?

Oh Nadia, stop it. Helen blushed. She rose from the table, and gathered some of the dishes. She was not a genius; she was just an excellent violinist. It was all practice, practice, practice, and an amazing ear.

"I heard you playing the Partitas, Cherie. Theory is one thing, but your keyboard technique is excellent! I have no more to teach you. The pupil is now the teacher."

Helen hated when Nadia got on that track. It was very gratifying to know that Nadia liked Helen’s harpsichord playing, but all this praise was too much to have to live up to.

Early the next morning, Saturday, well before sunrise, Helen put on a spectacular pair of running tights she had bought a few months before, and was pleased that they still fit. She was going to run. She didn’t need to wear such sexy clothing to go jogging out here, in the middle of nowhere in Northwestern Pennsylvania, but her hormones were still raging in her veins, and she was going mad with undirected lust. She had slept only fitfully, waking up from dreams of violent sex with faceless women, who suddenly left her bed and ran laughing away, taunting her.

Leaving a note to Nadia that James needed to be checked on, Helen slipped out of the house, and after stretching briefly, began to run, away from the town, into the surrounding farms and woods. Faster and faster she ran; this wasn’t jogging. An hour later, thoroughly exhausted, Helen stumbled back up the porch steps, sweating profusely. The kids across the street were up early, and were staring at her. She gave them a friendly but tired wave, and got inside, closing the door.

There, James, Mama is here! Helen, Cherie, what is this fantastic getup? You look like … Wonder Woman, or something!

Helen laughed, a little embarrassed. Nadia wouldn’t say anything more, but the remark hit the target. The suit was just a tad too spectacular.

I have another one, a little less … fantastic; I had better tone it down!

"Oh, I don’t care, Cherie. Goodness, at this rate you will disappear completely! Drink some water!"

Helen was already at the faucet, and she drank slowly.

The kids across the street came over around ten, and asked to visit with James. Evidently Nadia and James had made friends with them, and Helen watched them walk around with James, showing him everything in their yard. James was making a valiant effort to be interested. Nadia had said that they would take good care of the little fellow, and suggested that the older girl might make a good weekend babysitter. She is sort of a princess, Cherie. James will learn excellent manners.

Can’t do any harm, murmured Helen, setting out her music. She would practice at the harpsichord for half an hour, then the violin. After a while, the girls brought James back, and Helen heard Nadia taking him from them and talking to them, while Helen continued. She would let Nadia keep the baby until she called Helen for lunch.

At 2:00, of course, Nadia had to haul Helen off to the football game. Helen put on a colorful top and a wrap-around skirt that flattered her shape, and picking James up in her arms, set out with Nadia for the football field. The Cheerleaders spotted her, and it turned out that many of them were either in Helen’s freshman class, or were roommates with someone who was. Helen was presently surrounded with people anxious to chat with her. The bleachers were filled with a combination of students and townsfolk, who were rabid Westfield College football fans. Helen knew just enough about the game to see that there were some serious weaknesses in their game, but not enough to tell exactly what they were. The Cheerleaders cheered like crazy, but the home team just barely eked out a two-point lead at the end of the match. The fans were disappointed. It was a good opposing team, but they should have won the home game handily.

Marsha’s Idea

A characteristic of Helen’s strange life had been a desire to steal away, and have wild adventures under an assumed name, many of them highly sexual in nature. One of them was a recurrent appearance as a nude dancer at a nightclub in Florida, back when Helen was around sixteen; it was an elite establishment, and there had been no sex with the patrons, but it paid well, and the money Helen earned formed the basis of her great fortune some years later. Another was, a year later as a photographer for a ‘girlie’ magazine; another was, one summer, as a counselor at a nude tennis camp; another as a leader at a ballet camp in France, and so on.

Some ten years later, Helen met a family in California, and grew to love their two children, Gena, who was about 9, and newborn Alison. Helen found herself their foster-mother when the parents died, and before dying, the mother had entreated Helen to take the two girls, to which Helen had agreed willingly. But a certain couple in Philadelphia, having discovered Helen’s youthful escapades, used their influence to have Helen declared an unfit mother, and had the children removed from Helen’s care via the courts. Gena and Alison fled their foster home when they were left alone for a few minutes, came to Helen, and the three of them got away to the West Coast, and Helen was once again in disguise, this time first as a man, then as a woman. But the Law caught up with them, and Helen was sentenced to six months in prison, but the sentence was suspended on condition she gave up her promiscuous behavior, for the sake of the children.

Later during that first Fall Semester at Westfield, Helen met an attractive Englishwoman, who called herself Rain, and who taught French at the school. Rain invited Helen and the children to England to meet her parents, and they were well on their way to becoming a couple, when they got word from Philadelphia that Lorna, the young dancer we mentioned earlier, had left Becky, and had said that unless she was allowed to live with Helen she would kill herself. Lorna had made it clear even a few years ago that if only Helen would give the word, she would be all hers. Helen had avoided this happening, because Lorna was young, and Lorna was Becky’s woman, after all. But this was serious. Helen headed back to Philadelphia with baby James and Gena, and quickly saw that unless Helen, Rain and Lorna could manage to live together somehow, things would get very bad.

As our story continues, Helen, Rain and Lorna share the upstairs apartment, while Nadia continues to live downstairs, and at this time, they had settled down together, and were reasonably happy. You will shortly meet Natasha, a famous contralto, with whom Helen has made friends.

Helen’s musicology research focused on the music of J. S. Bach, and as a violinist, a conductor, lyric soprano, and a teacher at a small four-year college, Helen performed the music of Bach a large proportion of the time, and Bach’s music was mostly sacred music.

Helen longed to take time off from work, and make a raunchy movie. This was a common theme of her fantasies; she wanted to shock her fans who thought of Helen as a goody-goody highly respectable singer and instrumentalist, by playing some sexy woman in a movie, who fights and seduces right and left. But this was becoming increasingly difficult to do, given that she had responsibilities now, as a mother, and a member of the faculty of a respected school, and a Bach scholar. She had laid the problem in the hands of Marsha Moore, a famous Hollywood actress, who had a sideline of assisting her celebrity friends in disguising themselves and having interesting incognito adventures. (Remember Sandy?) Any day Helen expected a call from Marsha Moore, and then she would have to decide what she wanted to do about the movie Marsha and she had planned together, and for which Marsha was writing the script even now. The more Helen was drawn into the work of the college, and was identified with the institution, the more she was involved in performing religious works, masses and passions, the less possible it became for Helen to become a porn star, or anything near it. She would push the envelope, she knew, but the particular project they had planned was impossible. And she wanted to do it with every fiber of her being!

Marsha called her finally a few days after Helen had spoken with her friend Natasha, who had agreed to sing in a performance of the Bach St. Matthew Passion that Helen and her students were planning for Holy Week. Natasha was due to arrive on Thursday, and Marsha called on Tuesday.

Helen talked to Marsha, as we have seen, and it was fairly clear that Helen couldn’t just run off and make a sexy movie. Helen rang off, and hurried to rehearsal.

Several weeks before, Helen had hurried home, and as usual, Lorna had danced up and put her arms round Helen. She had been dancing, and wore her leotard, hose, and a pretty muslin skirt that flared with her slightest movement.

Helen knew it was her way of seducing Helen. She wanted sex, and she wanted Helen to give it willingly. Many times Helen had begun making love to her, her mind on something else, and Lorna had pushed her away. When you’re fucking me, she had said softly, I want you to think of nothing but me. I think of nothing but you, you should do the same for me.

"I am thinking of you!"

"Not only of me. I must fill your mind, Helen. Your whole body must think: Lorna, Lorna! You don’t have to love me, you must want me!"

Don’t be melodramatic! We’re not in love; we’re just friends! (This was not strictly true; Lorna had made it quite clear that she was totally in love with Helen, and Helen had to confess that she was in love with the dancer, before Becky and Lorna’s family reluctantly let her move in with Helen.) But Lorna was dressing. She gave Helen a tight smile and buttoned up her cardigan. Then she came to Helen with Helen’s panties, and Helen found herself stepping into them like a little girl being helped by her mother. Lorna! I can dress myself!

All right! Maybe next time, she had said. Helen had wanted sex very badly, but Lorna wasn’t going to give her any.

That was some weeks ago. Now Helen knew to be ready for Lorna. It was amazing sex, and it was worth it. Lorna wanted sex, but Helen had bigger fish to fry. She held the dancer close and for a few seconds they exchanged hugs. They knew that they needed each other sexually, desperately. But it was important to reassure themselves that there was love, too. They were very affectionate to each other, sometimes excessively so in private. They were determined to make their complicated arrangement work, because they knew that separation would be painful. It was as much of a desperate union as it had been between Lorna and Becky, but this time Lorna was certain that she had chosen wisely, and they were compatible. And miraculously, they both loved Rain, and Rain loved them, and so far there was harmony.

No sex, darling … my mind is not on it. I need your help. I need your brains.

Lorna held Helen’s face in her hands and peered into her eyes. She smiled. I could excuse you just once, she offered. Come on, let’s get naked!

Helen let herself be led upstairs. Lorna undressed Helen, and put her on the bed, and took off her own clothes. She slid her hand inside Helen and watched her face intently. Helen just looked at her.

Lorna stopped smiling and asked what the problem was, gently stroking Helen’s belly.

Helen told her about the crazy plan she and Marsha had had late in the Fall, and why she couldn’t go through with it; it would embarrass the college.

Yeah, said Lorna slowly, you can’t do that.

But I want to!

"I know … I want you to! She looked eager, and her hand worked away on autopilot, and Helen was feeling very aroused. But the problem was distracting her. And tell me again why you couldn’t do it under a screen name? Like Titta Buns, or something."

No. The whole idea is that it’s Cecilia, the woman from the Galaxy Show, gone bad!

Uh huh … She had three fingers inside Helen, and was thoughtfully thrusting them slowly in and out, not hard enough to bring her to orgasm, but enough to make her wild with wanting one. In her agony, Helen was squeezing her own breasts, expelling a little milk in the process, and Lorna was licking it up.

Mercifully, Lorna’s attention returned to the sex, and she brought Helen to orgasm quickly, just as Helen was about to take matters into her own hands. Then Lorna lay full on Helen, and they continued to talk.

Finally Lorna came up with an idea.

Helen would act in several movies, all under an assumed name. The first few would be family-oriented features that they would simply throw together with minimum effort. Then the last would be Marsha’s raunchy movie. The first two movies would present a highly sedate young actress; and in the third movie, the audience would be shocked to see this same actress being crazy sexy.

"Just throw them together? What do you think it takes to make a movie?"

Lorna shrugged, grinning.

Not a lot, actually, agreed Marsha, when Helen had told her the idea later that afternoon. You know, it’s a great idea!

Who’ll go to them?

Oh, don’t you worry. Let me work on this!

The Pelican Movies

Natasha

Helen had been invited to participate at a Christmas gala in Berlin, just before going on to Britain. While she was getting ready, there was a knock on the door, and it was Natalia Zemanova, a wonderful Czech contralto Helen had heard on the radio, whom Helen admired very much. Natasha lived in France and spoke fluent French, and they were soon fast friends. Natalia, who urged Helen to call her Natasha, sang with Helen’s group, the Impromptu, later that winter, and they released a CD on the LMN label (for which Natasha got prior permission from her own recording label), and had promised to collaborate with Helen at every opportunity.

Shortly, Natasha arrived in the US for rehearsals, and stayed for three days. She sat in on Helen’s classes, Rain’s recitations, and Nadia’s seminars, and Lorna danced for her in the evenings.

Helen’s class was a revelation to Natasha. What Natasha had learned with diligence and hard work at the conservatory in Prague, Helen made simple for these children. They took it for granted that it would be easy, and occasionally complained when it wasn’t obvious. With infinite patience Helen questioned the student until the idea was clear. She used the piano, recordings, the chalkboard, everything at her disposal, and by the end of the hour, had convinced the class of the ease of the technique she was describing.

Afterwards Helen confessed that it had been a more difficult day than usual.

You work so hard! said Natasha sympathetically. In my conservatory, they would discourage the less talented ones. She smiled. If you had to teach me and my classmates, it would have been easy for you!

Helen laughed. That may be, Natasha, but out of these unresponsive, complaining lumps of rock will come musicians, parents of musicians, congressmen, senators, voters… I need every one of them! In this country, Tasha, Music can afford no enemies.

Helen and Nadia cooked dinner, while Lorna danced for the sheer delight of it. Natasha and Rain sat and watched with amazement. Why don’t you wait until after dinner, when the others can see it too? asked Natasha.

Oh … said Lorna, continuing to dance, I’ll dance for them some other time!

Lorna danced until she was perspiring profusely, and Natasha found it hard to breathe because of the sheer beauty of it. Next to her, Rain watched, her mouth hanging open. The music accelerated in a mad race to the end, and finally Lorna ended the dance in a split, her arms thrown back, an expression of absolute rapture on her face.

There! Did you like it?!? she gasped, like a little girl, eager for approval.