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...the freakish young millionairess...

Oh, I am so sleepy. I have been talking on AIM to angiv and riarambles for ages (I now know what a petrel is!), and I am all worn out after their delightful conversation! Well, I think I'm worn out because I was hunched over my laptop. I love AIM though. I hope I'm not annoying people with my online rambling.

But I have time to give you the latest snippet of....

In the car across the street from the Wakefield’s house, Todd Wilkins and his love Enid Rollins stared at the brightly lit window. The party was spilling out into the Wakefield’s garden, and the curtains had been opened to let more air into the sitting room. From their anonymous rental car, Todd and Enid could see the party in full swing. All their old friends were there. And the temptation to join them was huge.

“They’re playing Pat Benetar,” Enid whimpered.

“Be strong, Enid,” said Todd gently. “We’ll be among them soon. But not yet. It’s not fair.”

“I wonder… I wonder has Jess said anything to Liz about us being back?” said Enid timidly.

“I doubt it,” Todd scoffed. “Jess probably forgot about it the mintue she drove off in her limo. Look at her partying away…”

He gestured towards the window, but the words died on his lips as he saw what was going on in the Wakefield sitting room. There was a Wakefield twin, standing in the centre of the room, her arms around a familiar blonde young man. She was laughing, almost flirting – typical Jessica Wakefield behaviour.

Except this wasn’t Jessica Wakefield.

Jessica would never have worn the conservative pink cotton blouse, with its striped bow tie, and straight knee length yellow skirt.

Elizabeth would.

“Enid,” Todd gasped. “It’s her. It’s Liz. She’s back already.”

“But the reunion isn’t until next week!” Enid said, shocked.

“Looks like she arrived home early,” said Todd, grimly. “Enid, what are we doing?”

The couple had been driving past the Wakefield home every night, unable to stop looking at Elizabeth’s old home. Their guilt drew them there, but it also tormented them once they’d arrived. They would park across the street, gazing in mute agony at the split-level residence. Now, however, they’d seen more than they’d bargained for.

“Todd, is that who I think it is? Is that…”

“It’s Jeffrey,” said Todd, instantly recognising his old – vanquished – rival. Suddenly a memory came to him, of the moment when Elizabeth chose him over Jeffrey. He thought about how happy he had felt. He thought about how much he had loved her. A thrill of pain ran through him, a pain unconnected with his guilt.

I miss you, Liz, he thought. Maybe I always will.

He sniffed. So did Enid. Without another word, she started the car. Sniffing back their tears together, they drove off into the darkness.


“This is a great party, huh?” shrieked Jessica Wakefield into Bill Chase’s ear. His girlfriend Dee Dee Gordon glared at her. She ahdn’t forgotten Jessica’s devious attempts to woo her beloved away from her back in high school. But Jessica wasn’t interested in Bill tonight. She was just on her way to answer the front door bell.

It was Lila and Winston. The two women greeted each other with their usual air-kisses. Winston gave Jessica a friendly wave and strolled into the sitting room. He was looking for Liz, but he soon found plenty of old friends, all of whom were delighted to see the irreverant joker who had made their schooldays so jovial. He soon got into an excited conversation with Roger Patman and then…

“Hi, Winston.”

He hadn’t heard that voice in so long. Not since she had seen his and Lila’s first passionate kiss. Not since she had run away in tears.


Winston’s first girlfriend now stood before him. She had barely changed in the ten years since he’d last seen her. Her back curls fell softly around her beautiful facce. She wore a tight red lurex dress and blue heels.

“Maria,” he said softly. “It’s so good to see you. It’s been so long…”

“I know Winston,” said Maria Santelli. “I know.”

“I’m…I know it’s ridiculous to say it now, but Maria, I’m sorry for what I’ve done.” Winston’s voice trembled with emotion. An emotion he had forgotten. His love for Maria.

Maria’s lovely face glowed. “Winston, I…”

But she was interrupted by Lila, who strode up to her husband with a proprietory air.

“Winnie, darling, there you are. And who is this?” The heiress turned to Maria and looked at her with disdain.

“It’s Maria, Lila,” said the girl softly. “I was in your class. You threw a party for me in your house when I was engaged to Michael Harris.”

Lila’s puffed lip curled.

“Ah yes,” she sneered. “You. And you used to go out with my Winston, did you not? Well, he could do better than you. And he did! He got me!”

Maria stared at the freakish young millionairess. Then she did something astonishing. She made a sound Lila Fowler hadn’t heard in many a year.

She laughed.

“Yes, Lila!” she cried. “And what a prize you are!”

Still giggling, she turned and went into the kitchen. Lila brought a hand up to her scupted features. What was that little slut talking about? Of course Lila was a prize! She was beautiful! More than that – she was magnificant! And it was she who had power over Winston. He had wanted to go to college, but she had thwarted his dreams. He had wanted to develop a career of his own – she’d stopped that too. Enslaved early on by her sexual powers, Winston was now trapped in Lila’s gaudy web. And nothing – including that little tart – was going to free him. Nothing!

“Come on, Winston!” she barked. “We’re going home!”

Clenching her bejewled hand into a fist, Lila stalked out into the night. It wasn’t until she was out in the car that she realised Winston wasn’t behind her….

To be continued...


( 7 comments — Leave a comment )
Nov. 13th, 2002 12:31 am (UTC)
“They’re playing Pat Benetar,” Enid whimpered.

“Be strong, Enid,” said Todd gently.

I too, wish for strength when I hear Pat Benatar :-)

Sniffing back their tears together

I think I'm going to have to send you the bill for cleaning the Coke off my keyboard....

Nov. 13th, 2002 02:41 am (UTC)
conservative pink cotton blouse, with its striped bow tie, and straight knee length yellow skirt

Wasn't Prada doing something like this a couple of seasons ago? Probably not accessorized with a perfect Californian tan and a matching gold lavaliere, though.

Incidentally, what is a lavaliere?
Nov. 13th, 2002 04:36 am (UTC)
The clothes are just getting better and better. Could someone illustrate this, maybe? It would be fabulous!
Nov. 13th, 2002 11:10 am (UTC)
This all makes so much more sense now that I've read two of them.

Enslaved early on by her sexual powers, Winston was now trapped in Lila’s gaudy web. And nothing – including that little tart – was going to free him. Nothing!

Oh my. And yeah, what is a lavaliere?

And don't worry about rambling - you weren't. Although I was. I feel I may have gone into a little too much detail about petrels...
Nov. 13th, 2002 05:17 pm (UTC)
All right, it seems that I am the go-to girl for SWH vocabulary; a lavaliere is a piece of jewelry (I think a pin, or maybe a pendant) that a boy (usually in a fraternity) gives his girlfriend. It's kind of an "engaged to be engaged" thing. My freshman year college roommate was "lavaliered to" some guy, or something, and she explained it to me.
Nov. 14th, 2002 07:44 am (UTC)
Re: Lavalieres
I always thought a lavaliere was the pendant on a necklace.

Oxford Canadian defines it as a 'pendant necklace'.
Nov. 14th, 2002 09:48 am (UTC)
Re: Lavalieres
I think you're right; I've been confusing the act of lavaliering and the act of "pinning." And mixing up the jewelry involved with the actual process. However, I found this extremely exciting article that tells about the lavaliering tradition, which certainly cleared some things up for me. I was wrong; to be lavaliered is not to be engaged to be engaged, it is to be engaged to be engaged to be engaged. This strikes me as a Bad, Bad Idea, but to all their own, I guess.
( 7 comments — Leave a comment )


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