Subculture (16 page)

Lisa stared at the envelope for a long time, as she tried to envisage her lover's reaction. Then she mailed the snapshots with her usual letter and started to watch for the post, eagerly awaiting his reply.

 

The hours pass slowly when you're waiting for someone to return - especially when you're pretending not to. Lisa normally relaxed between consultations, but now she made cups of tea that she didn't want then further tidied her already immaculate Consultation Suite. She had to be friendly but untouchable when Michael Landers returned, she told herself edgily. She had to seem unperturbed. Somehow she'd get through what remained of her three month stint here then take her bruised heart back to England, back to Reece.

Lisa sighed and added two drops of an anti-depressive oil to the vapour ring attached to her lamp. She'd have to postpone the wedding for a while, of course - her attraction to Michael had shown her that she wasn't ready to marry Reece yet. She'd simply tell him that she wanted them to keep dating for a while longer. He'd understand.

He was a good man, Lisa told herself. Her heart sank. When people used these words it was usually to make up for some other deficiency in the man's persona. He's a good man, they said - and silently added but a little dull and plodding. He's got a good heart - but he's never made mine skip an excited beat.

A knock tattooed through her door. Lisa jumped, then tried to push the anxious blush from her face. Had Michael returned this quickly? ‘Enter,' she called, then winced at the double entendre. She must stop thinking about sex.

Jamilla hurried in. ‘Forgot to refill the vapour rings in your consultation rooms,' she murmured. ‘What with Michael away, we're all out of our usual routine.'

‘Do you miss him?' Lisa asked. The openness of the question surprised herself. She hadn't meant to sound so blunt.

Jamilla put down the essential oils and smiled. ‘Of course I miss him. He's a wonderful employer.'

Lisa sucked in her breath; she had nothing to lose now by assuaging her curiosity. ‘I thought he meant more to you than that.'

‘You mean...' For the first time, the Maltese woman dipped her head as she put the sandalwood and bergamot phials back into her cavernous apron pocket. ‘He pleases me, yes.'

‘And you don't mind that he also pleases Carmen and Dania and... other staff members?' Lisa prompted, keeping her voice light and even.

Jamilla picked up her bunch of keys and took a step towards the door. She spoke quietly. ‘I have all the satisfaction I need, yet no other demands on my time and energy. Why should I want something more?'

Because men and women are more than genitally linked. Because most of us want someone who is special. Because people fall in love. Lisa felt the thoughts swarm round her brain. A holiday romance wasn't for her - she wanted ongoing passion. Couldn't bear to just have a partial share in her man.

‘I'm glad life is good to you,' she said to the housekeeper, meaning it.

‘I think it could be even better for you,' Jamilla said.

‘Me? Oh I'll get by.' Lisa picked up her herbal diary to read over the next patient's notes.

Jamilla left. The patient arrived and soon departed with a relaxing tisane. Physician heal thyself, Lisa thought wearily, as she massaged some diluted geranium and rosewood oils into her own tense abdomen.

Then the phone rang. Was it Michael calling from England this time? She'd told Marie-Rose that she was too busy to speak to the doctor. She couldn't bear to hear his voice, remember his calm insistent tone. Bend over the desk, Lisa. Pull down your pants for me. That's it, sweetheart. Her tummy lurched its lust. Marshalling her courage and her coolest voice, she picked up the receiver and murmured ‘Yes?'

Marie-Rose's hesitant words filtered down the line. ‘Don Muscat, a patient of Ria's, has just turned up at Reception. He's desperate to see someone. Ria is out shopping, so I thought...'

‘Send him up,' the herbalist said easily. She greeted the fair-haired man at the door of her consultation room. He was about eight years her junior, and had the well built torso of someone who spends three or four nights a week in the gym.

‘Take a seat, Don,' Lisa invited, her own gaze taking in his white cotton trousers, tan belt and tan coloured polo shirt. He was very pleasing to the crotch and on the eye.

‘Sorry to arrive without warning,' the newcomer said with an engaging grin. ‘I was driving to my fiancee's and suddenly turned the wheel in the direction of Vitality. I guess I just wanted to talk to Ria again before I made any final decisions regarding Jill.'

‘Jill's your fiancee?' Lisa clarified.

The man nodded. ‘She's great - she hasn't done anything wrong. That's why I feel so guilty.'

‘Guilty that you've...?' Lisa prompted, starting to nibble her pen.

Marie-Rose had given her the briefest details of the patient - only Ria knew what had really been going on in the man's mind.

‘I feel guilty that I still notice other women,' Don Muscat admitted with an apologetic shrug.

‘You wouldn't be human if you didn't.' Lisa tried to give him an encouraging smile, but her thoughts again turned to Michael. She found the doctor so attractive that her pelvis ached with need. ‘Give me a brief version of events,' she added softly. ‘Tell whatever seems important to you.'

Don Muscat nodded. ‘Well, I met Jill two years ago and we've been dating ever since. I knew she wanted to get married and... I guess on one level I did too. You know, the idea of a shared house, having someone to come home to. But since we set a date for the wedding I haven't wanted to... perform.'

‘And Ria's helped?' Lisa queried. Jealousy caused a heavy dragging feeling between her bra-cupped breasts.

‘Sure. She showed me that there was nothing physically wrong, that the problem was a psychological one,' Don Muscat murmured.

You mean she shafted you, Lisa thought wearily. Aloud she said, ‘So what made you seek out Ria's help today?'

‘I... we'd talked and she'd sent me away to decide what I wanted to do about Jill. Last night I decided to end my engagement. I was on my way to see Jill today and tell her when I bottled out.'

Genuinely sympathetic, Lisa leaned forward. ‘You wanted Ria to reassure you that you were doing the right thing?'

‘I guess so.' He shrugged. ‘Maybe I was just delaying the horrible moment. It's hard to tell someone you love that you're cancelling the wedding plans.'

‘You'll continue to date Jill?' Lisa prompted. This was so like her own situation with Reece that it felt almost eerie.

‘I doubt that she'll have me,' the man answered then gave a long low sigh. He looked steadily across the desk at her. ‘I'm aware that she may want my head on a stick for changing our plans like this.' He hesitated. ‘I mean, if someone called off your wedding at two months notice would you want to know them any more?'

‘I... I guess not.' She'd feel as if she wasn't good enough. She'd feel devastated. Like most women, she'd erroneously blame herself. The fair haired client was looking at her expectantly. Lisa sought to reassure. ‘I'm working as a herbalist here - but I trained as a counsellor before so I can provide either form of therapy. We can talk now, or I can give you a relaxing herbal tisane to drink and essential oils which you can inhale to further de-stress.'

‘I'd hoped that Ria... I've got all this tension in my neck and shoulders. She sometimes gives me a massage,' the twenty year old said.

‘I'm not really trained to...' Lisa started. The phone rang and she jumped and noticed that the man seemed surprised by her sudden edginess. ‘Hello?' she said.

‘Dr Landers is back. He'd like to see you in half an hour. Should he visit your treatment suite?' Marie-Rose queried down the telephone line.

‘No - I'll be out. I'm too busy,' Lisa muttered, the words tumbling over each other. Then she slammed down the phone.

‘Sounds like you're the one who needs a massage,' the youth grinned. ‘Are you overworked here?'

‘I'll admit I've had a difficult few days,' Lisa admitted. She glanced at the door, knowing that Michael could come through it any second. He was Ria's now, though - she, Lisa, had to keep away.

Driven by panic and anger, she swiftly stood. ‘I'll give you that massage if you like. I know its a bit unorthodox, but I've more essential oils in my bedroom and we won't be disturbed by the phone there.' She flicked her machine onto answer mode, ushered the man out, then locked the suite. ‘I don't have a massage couch I'm afraid, so I'll spread a large quilt on the floor for you to lie on.' She walked the man to her large and well-aired bedroom with ensuite bathroom and ushered him in.

‘Don't you just want me on the King Size?' Don Muscat asked. He looked well worth having on the bed. He looked like a male model or film star. Lisa again admired his taut upper torso and small cotton-clad hips. She wanted to feel him all over, and would do, she told herself firmly, but only in the form of giving him a revitalising massage.

‘A bed is too soft for a massage,' she explained. ‘When I press down on your muscles you'll sink into the mattress. We want an ungiving support for your body which will also protect my knees.'

‘You're the boss! Just tell me which way you want me,' the man said, looking with obvious appreciation at her body then at the fragrant room.

Lisa felt a little arc of sparks thrill its way across her groin. Ignoring it, she took the spare duvet from the wardrobe and spread it across the large expanse of carpet under the open window. Thank goodness Michael had been so generous with her bedroom space!

‘This is some room. Is it fun to work here?' Don Muscat queried.

‘It has its moments,' Lisa said. She realised that she didn't want to talk about her work or her employer. She just wanted to lose herself for an hour or two in an uncomplicated act. ‘Take off your clothes then lie down,' she bid. Another little frisson nosed its way from lower belly to mons at her own directness. Lisa loosened the collar of her turquoise shirtdress and did a little deep breathing as she stared at the man.

‘Yes Ma'am,' Don replied with a grin. She realised that poor Jill had had lots of girlish competition. And competition from more mature women like herself?

She sat down as he shrugged out of his polo shirt, unbelted his cotton trews, and pulled both garments from his body. Hesitated, still clad in close-fitting white briefs, then pulled them off as well. Lisa stayed seated on the bed, drinking in his naked perfection. His phallus was a semi-hard fleshy tube underlined by thick blonde hair.

‘What do I do now?' the client continued easily.

You make me come upon your cock till I forget the past few days, Lisa thought with savage honestly. ‘Just relax on your tummy with your hands by your sides,' she replied, bringing the ethical side of her persona into the phrase.

‘Yes, Ma'am,' the man said. Again the slight submissiveness in his tone sent excitement to her pinkish nipples. It was true then, that even masochistic women could swing both ways. Lisa acknowledged her own sense of power as she watched Don Muscat lie at her feet, his bare bum an inviting target. If only he was her lover rather than a client. If only she was wearing a belt...

Forcing her mind back into business mode, the herbalist went into her dressing table drawer and brought out a grape seed base, and two phials of essential oils.

‘I'm going to use ylang ylang to cure your restlessness and rose to lift your emotional tiredness,' she told the man as she unscrewed the bottle tops.

‘Sounds fine to me.' He lifted his head to smile at her and Lisa knelt to turn his head slightly to one side.

‘Keep your limbs loose. Don't talk if you find you don't want to,' she instructed. Then she blended the carefully-measured oils into a small china bowl. ‘I'm warming my hands,' she explained, rubbing her palms briskly together. Now she was ready to knead the tension from his long tanned limbs.

Lisa started with his neck, the part of the body which tended to accumulate most stress especially in business people. This man was no exception. Lisa worked at the uptight muscles until each began to relax.

‘Mmm, that smells nice,' her client murmured. ‘Ria didn't...'

‘Each of us employs our own methods,' the herbalist said.

‘I prefer your methods,' the man added softly, his shoulders relaxing. Lisa grimaced - if only Michael would say that. Don Muscat hesitated. ‘Your boyfriend's lucky - you give a great massage.'

It was a clumsy attempt to find out if she was spoken for, but Lisa didn't blame the man for trying. The Maltese sunshine and the wonderful herbal aromas made most people feel higher levels of desire. ‘He's in Singapore. He's...' She hesitated. She shouldn't really be talking like this. But since Michael had left she'd felt emotionally isolated and a little lonely. ‘I'm postponing our wedding,' she admitted softly. ‘I'm in the same boat as you.'