Reluctant Diva 34
Inspired by Lipstick Discipline
Chapter 34 – Epilogue
That weekend was the start of a train of events that a few short months later, one week after my sixteenth birthday, led to my finding myself on the eve of the most momentous day of my life. That’s right! My wedding day!
During that weekend in the hotel I experienced sexual satisfaction that I’d never known before and in ways I hadn’t imagined. Though my responses to my seductress were driven by lust, rather than arising from any superior feeling, the pent-up frustration of months of unrelieved desire also played its part. I’d long since given up believing that anything like this could be possible, but Madeleine’s experience and skill overcame all impediments. It seemed to me that only she could fulfil my empty longings.
At the same time she made it appear that she was dependent upon me. Older than I and alone, she let herself seem vulnerable and appealed for my protection. In my inexperience and naivety I told her I would never desert her. How could I turn from her without thinking myself heartless? We returned home as an acknowledged ‘item’. If I was wondering how my mother would react to this news I needn’t have concerned myself. My mother beamed her approval, her eyes actually misting over as she congratulated us! She even made no complaint that we had returned without completing my Thanksgiving outfits. I would not be entering this year.

Our relationship was cemented soon after when one evening Madeleine took me out and wined and dined me. Finally she led up to the question; were the ‘promises’ I had made real? My protestation that I’d meant what I’d said was followed by the placement of a ring upon my finger, the third on my left hand.

I’d been hooked, even if it was not altogether unwillingly.
Madeleine and I were engaged to be married!!

The next question to be resolved was ‘when’. Though legally I was already able to give consent, the disparity in our ages could make our wedding an object of scandal. It seemed that appearances would have to be respected. After lengthy deliberation it was agreed that we would wait until just after my sixteenth birthday, when I would move in to live with my spouse. Part of the rationale was that Maria was herself leaving Madeleine’s employ to be married before then. The unflattering implication that I might be expected to fulfil some of the maid’s function was actually welcomed by me. I felt happier to know that I would be making a practical contribution to our future ménage. It prevented me from seeing myself as just some kind of plaything.

The risk of ‘confusion’ over our respective gender was more speedily dealt with. At the forthcoming ceremony Madeleine was insistent that I must be the bride, to enable which she would dress as the groom. As she pointed out, she had already had her day as a blushing bride many years before. There was a final condition; I would give up my cleaning jobs and put my formal education on hold. It clearly didn’t suit my fiancé’s sense of dignity to have her name linked with a ‘help’ or a high school student. My betrothal could now be announced to the waiting world.

Rachel was the first person I told and she was happy if I was happy. Was I happy? I wasn’t sure. Events were moving fast, however and she had tidings of her own. Since qualifying as a nurse, she had been seeking a position as such and had recently been successful in an application. The appointment was to a role in a private hospital which was a wonderful opening and I felt pleased for her. However, the town to which she would be moving was in the next state, even if not very far away, a couple of hours drive. I had to swallow my feelings on hearing this news. Though I was pleased on my best friend’s own account, I felt suddenly alone and vulnerable. I’d come to depend on having her around as my confidante. She had become the comforter and advisor I so often needed to make sense of my complicated life.

When I told my circle of school friends their reaction was predictable but disappointing. It was impossible to make my friends understand and attempting to explain how my engagement had come about brought home to me the enormity of the step I would be taking. Shock was their prevailing sentiment, accompanied by something closer to disgust. Shirley was as outspoken as ever in her remarks about the age difference between my fiancé and myself. Her words really stung but in actuality I didn’t find the lines on Madeleine’s brow and around her mouth and eyes distasteful. Her maturity evoked tenderness, and her sophistication as a successful business woman I found exciting. Increasingly, however, as the weeks went by, other things gave me pause.

The over-familiarity of some of her circle of friends and the freedom with which they expressed it was something I found disconcerting. At social events I was often made to feel more like a plaything than a person. When I complained, my fiancé dismissed my concerns as the product of my popularity and something to be welcomed. I could look forward to further such attentions and perhaps worse.

A chance discovery reinforced my fears when I opened a drawer by mistake and discovered some of Madeleine’s ‘toys’. To my innocent mind their intended purpose verged upon the extreme. They made me wonder about my intended life-partner. What sort of person really was she? It came home to me as never before how widely different our preferences might be, muddled as my thinking normally was by the social whirl I was immersed in and which literally took my breath away.

I needed someone to talk to, someone to confide in and in whose judgement I could trust. The thought of calling my father fleeted across my mind, but only briefly. That idea was unthinkable. I wouldn’t know where to begin and deep down there would be an undercurrent of disappointment which I dreaded hearing. It would have been natural to talk everything through with my mother, but when I cautiously sounded her out about my reservations, her reaction was one of simple annoyance. She pointed out the trouble and expense everyone was going to and I was glad to end that particular conversation. Shirley and her friends had been a little distant since I’d announced my engagement. That was a pity because I knew I could count on her to speak her mind. I wondered about Chris, but we had hardly spoken since our abortive date.

There remained only one person I could turn to and she was over a hundred miles away. Though Rachel and I had kept in touch via telephone, long-distance conversations were necessarily limited. Nevertheless she was my only hope. I wished there was some way we could meet but all I could do was call her. I chose an evening when I had the house to myself and it wasn’t long before I’d shared all my worries. My friend was a good listener, gently prompting me as I stumbled over the awkward parts, and there were plenty of those. Just getting all my concerns off my chest made me feel so much better, and having her sympathy was a godsend. The call was perforce all too brief but at the end of it she promised that she would try to come home soon so that we would be able to talk more easily. In the event, however, she was unable to find the opportunity to get away.

So I was resigned to my apparent destiny. My wedding day dawned bright and sunny. I spent the morning in preparation assisted by Maria who had asked to be my attendant for the occasion. Her voluble chatter occupied the time and made it fly, though I paid little attention to what she was saying.

When I was fully coiffed, made up and dressed, I sat for a while in front of the glass staring disconsolately at my image. There was just an hour remaining. I knew that I looked as beautiful as any bride could wish, but had to blink back a tear that threatened to spoil the perfection of my appearance. It seemed there was no escaping my fate and I had never felt so alone.

Surprisingly it was Maria who came to my rescue. I became conscious that a silence had prevailed in the room. I looked around expecting to see that she had left me, perhaps to call my parent to view her completed handiwork, only to see that my assistant was regarding me seriously.

“You no want?” She gestured to my dress and all its accoutrements.

I was too full of emotion to make any answer to the half-framed question other than to give her an appealing look, and a shake of my head, but it seemed that was sufficient for her.

“Come!”

Taking Maria’s outstretched hand I allowed her to lead me from my room wonderingly. With her finger over her lips she ushered me silently down the stairs and out of the front door to where her car was parked up.

A few minutes later we stopped at the bus terminal where I made a phone call. There was only ten minutes to wait. Despite Maria removing my veil and wrapping me in her jacket, I made quite a spectacle in my bridal ensemble. It seemed that all eyes were upon me. However she pressed some bills into my hand from her purse and hugged and kissed me before I boarded the Greyhound and began my fateful journey. I could only hope she wouldn’t get too much trouble for helping me. It was two hours later that the driver pulled over and told me to me alight. I had reached the state-line and I could see a blue sedan which was parked 100 yards further up the road and seemed familiar. Reassuringly, a well-known figure was also standing close by.

I walked the short distance to where Rachel was waiting and literally fell into her arms. I was safe and finally I had choices! I could stay with my friend, find work and make my own decisions, or return to where my family and Madeleine were waiting. What would I decide? How would I choose to live?
Well that’s another story!

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