Chapter Four

“New Job”

“You cannot begin to understand the where’s and why for’s of it all young man, so just do what everybody else does and start atthe beginning”.

He was elderly, stately, gray hair still thick on top, and if not for a pronounced stoop, was probably once very tall. He had a kindly voice that made you think of grandfathers as portrayed in movies. You know the ones, whenever you visited them they had everything planned for you so that you didn’t get bored having to listen to the grown ups talk. And at night, that would sit you on their knee and tell you stories in a soft mellow voice, that eventually swayed you off to sleep.

“I do understand Mr Wellesley, but as you can see by my Resume, I am more qualified than most to start at least at assistant level. I done all the courses, I have accumulated that much work experience over six months and you…”.

“Slow down boy, I’ve heard it all before, and as I have previously explained to you (his shoulders stooped some more as if somebody had just added another twenty pound weight onto his back), I promote from within my own ranks, I develop my own talent, and reward those that not only have the ability, but also the perseverance, and you do not have the time up to demonstrate that to me yet. Show a bit of loyalty lad, and I can guarantee you that your talent will get you to where you believe you should be. ‘Do you remember that ad campaign for Mallow Mints?’ the old man continued, ‘well that ad came from this agency (he was oblivious to Steven now, just droning on without waiting for a reply or any indication of assent at all) from a young fellow, not unlike yourself, who gave us the inspiration for that campaign in if I recall correctly, the first month he began working for us. He didn’t have the experience to produce the final result as we all know it now, but he had the original concept and we followed it through religiously and outrageously successfully as well, I might add. But he got too big for his boots, he thought he was the bees knees of advertising geniuses, but that was the only success that he had in over two years here. An’ when he finally quit because I wouldn’t give him his own team of assistants, he was still living off the memory of that one campaign. Now just imagine the losses this Agency would have incurred if I had promoted him to what he wanted to be, and a lot of others around here thought he could be at the time too, but he didn’t achieve anything else except waste time with insignificant, and in some cases idiotic ideas. It was if his whole imagination and life had been exhausted in that one and only original concept. And that is not what I need from you Steven, or anybody else that works for me either. So now, come along and we’ll introduce you to the crowd”.

Before Steven could say another word, the diatribe had rendered him speechless anyway, Wellesley was standing at the office door, beckoning for him to follow. Steven had already seen the young secretary (he assumed) that had ushered him into the office earlier, but she, apart from Wellesley, had been the only other one there. It was a hive of activity now, 25 people in small groups clustered around computers mainly, but some individuals making coffee or doodling on white boards. The secretary was there, she was very young actually, Steven guessed probably no more than 18, plain but nice, below average looks and dressed very conservatively for her age. She was blushing, and Steven realized it was because he was standing there looking her up and down.

“I’m, I’m… sorry.” He stammered deliberately, trying to look equally embarrassed. “Please, I’m sorry, call me Stag.” And then he walked away from her, having seen the puzzlement written all over her face about his name, knowing it would lead to more curiosity and desire to talk to him later. “One down, several to go” he thought, “and I’ve only been here an hour.”

He smiled to himself as he wiped the boyish grin and replaced it with his lost doleful look, knowing it would appeal to far more of the others and expected by them as well, seeing he was the new kid on the block. He caught up to Wellesley as he’d turned back toward him on arriving at the first group sitting around a monitor. There were three of them, two guys and a girl, the girl was obviously interrupted scanning something into the computer as she sat there holding the scanner up in her left hand looking at the monitor but glancing at Steven as he approached. Wellesley had already mentioned Stevens’ name to them, and the guy to the left of the girl stood up as Steven arrived.

“Harry,” the man standing, “Monica and Marc” he gestured at the others.

“Stag” Steven replied taking the hand firmly. Marc also stood and they shook hands, the expected quizzical look only on Wellesleys’ face. “Steven is my real name but everybody, mostly everybody calls me Stag” Steven explained to them all.

“Well, then, this is your work group for now Steven, you don’t mind if I keep calling you that do you” said Wellesley, “they will introduce you to everybody else but for now I want you to sit in and listen and learn”, and with that his shoulders slumped, and he turned and simply walked off.

Steven watched him go, then turned back to the trio. Marc looked at him.

“Grab a chair Stag, we is having ourselves a problem”.

Harry turned out to be quite brilliant, mid 30's, a lot of experience and background, always dressed like an absolute dag, cord jeans, no belt, sand shoes, a t-shirt in summer covered by assorted flannelette shirts in winter, and an old army green jacket and a moth eaten Rabbitohs beanie on really cold days.

“You play?” Harry had asked Steven one day.

“Used to, and a closet South Sydney supporter as well, from the good old days in the late sixties early seventies”.

Harry seemed to believe that made Steven alright, not that many people would admit to being a Rabbitohs’ supporter anymore, closet or otherwise. On that first morning, Harry ran Steven through the ropes, and Steven was smart enough to listen and learn, like he was being paid to do at that time.

“Monica? She’s a dyke man.” This was his reply to Stevens question at a smoko break. “But a good dyke you understand. She ain’t the best at having original ideas, but she is a whiz with freehand, and anything we can come up with she just makes it come alive on the computer man. But don’t go thinkin’ you can convert her or anythin’ man, ‘coz she is dyke through and through, even lives with her girlfriend and let me tell ya, she’s the one that wears the pants in that duo, if you get my drift. So don’t go stirring her up ‘coz she’s a part of the team that plays hard and wins. That’s us, me Marc and her, we’re all brothers!”

At that, he laughed. His laughter ended abruptly in a coughing spasm, a sickening uncontrollable wet cough that made Steven almost retch.

“Gotta give up these damn smokes man” Harry said, and hurtled the half butt off the landing into the street.

Steven saw the glistening eyes and felt his pain, but didn’t know what to do. Sickness and death was fairly foreign to him, personally.

“What, what about Marc?” It was all he could think of to say.

Harry looked directly at Steven who recognized a ‘thanks for not mentioning it look’.

“Yeah, Marc, he’s quiet ain’t he?” Harry wiped his face on his sleeve and continued. “He’s one of those guys who is always thinking, quiet as a church mouse until something clicks in his head. An’ then try and shut ‘im up man, once he gets going the idea just formulates itself, sometimes as it’s coming out of his mouth I swear. But he’s like me man, runnin’ out of time, in his forties, you didn’t think he’s was that old did ya (he said after seeing Stevens’ surprised look), and beginning to get exhausted at the amount we have to produce now. Wellesley obviously thinks you have the goods, that’s why he put you with us and not one of the other groups. Consider yourself privileged”.

“I am” Steven said honestly.

Work was great, Steven did learn a lot, not only from Harry but also Monica. She was good, very good, and Steven let her know he thought that without appearing to be patronising. He fitted in well with all three of them and even got around the office a bit to see how all the others worked (and to check out the available talent). He had lunch with Kate a couple of times, she was very difficult to talk to but he eventually got her talking freely enough about most things, other than herself anyway. One time he even touched her softly on the cheek with his hand when they had been talking about a sad event on TV and she had just looked at him with those big puppy dog eyes and nestled her cheek against the palm of his hand. Steven asked her to go out that night and she responded yes immediately, even though it was still accompanied by her normal stuttering whenever she was nervous, which with Steven, was always.

Another girl in the office really took his fancy. Debbie was a lithesome blonde who reminded him a little of Glenda from his school days. She had bright baby blue eyes and always wore form fitting clothes, which he appreciated greatly.

But it was Monica who had Steven perplexed. Homosexuality was not a new topic to him – he had visited Sydney and the Gold Coast enough to recognise the male versions but lesbianism was something that both excited and interested him, and Monica represented all of that. He became quite chummy with her, and after some time she began responding to him more in line with what he was used to from women, but always with an aloofness that made him more determined. Near the end of one work day, she turned to him.

“What do you see in Kate?”

They had been driving a particular train of thought on a new campaign for the past few hours and the question pretty much arrived out of the blue. Marc and Harry looked at each other, then looked at Steven. Steven thought he saw Harry shake his head imperceptibly.

“What do you see in her?” Steven responded.

“She’s naive and innocent and not your type at all but you just see her as a conquest to be had” she replied matter of factly.

“Yeah, but what do you see in her?” he repeated.

“She’s nice Steve, so why don’t you just leave her be”.

Monica did not hide her homosexuality but she did not openly discuss it either.

“Am I poaching on your territory?”

Stevens’ question initiated the beginning of one of Harry’s coughing fits that saw him get up and leave for the toilet immediately, with Marc following to make sure he was alright.

“You think you know it all don’t you?” Monica finally spoke after waiting for Steven to look back at her. “Let me tell you, that from all of the people around here and probably elsewhere, I know how you tick more than anybody else does, and you have a lot to learn about women and sexuality Steven”.

“So who’s going to teach me? You?”

Steven said it with more than a touch of sarcasm. Monica’s eyes softened a little and she appeared to focus past Steven for a second. She returned her gaze directly at him.

“Steven, I have been a lesbian for all of my adult life, and probably a fair portion of time before that. It doesn’t mean I am any the less intelligent or observant, and it does not qualify me as an expert in anything, but what I do know is that you are preying on poor Kate, and she is being taken in by you hook, line and sinker. She’s naive and gullible Steven”.

He listened, shook his head a couple of times as if to clear it, and frowned heavily at her.

“I don’t know what you’re saying…” he began…

“You know exactly what I mean” she cut in abruptly. Steven shook his head again and then his eyes widened when she added “come over my house tonight, me and Di wanna talk to you”.

It was a direction and Steven was bewildered, but she obviously considered the discussion over as she turned her attention back to the computer. He started to speak but she shook her head at him, and then Harry and Marc were back. Harry looked at him and pulled a face from behind Monica. Monica responded by flinging her head back and collecting him straight in the solar plexus.

“I saw your reflection in the screen” she answered.

“Be careful” is all Harry said later, when Steven told him about the invitation.

“Of what?”

“Maybe your luck’s in man, maybe she has been discussing you with Di and they’ve decided to teach you a lesson the only way dykes can, I dunno man but just be careful”.

“Oh, so I should take more than one condom!” Steven laughed.

“Look Katie, I’m really sorry about tonight but we are all going to Monicas’ to work on this ad” Steven told her. “But hey look, it’s Friday tomorrow, maybe you’d like to go to the drive-in or something?”

“Okay, yes of course, work is important, I do understand. I, I’m not sure about tomorrow, you know, I don’t think that the drive-in is such a great idea, I think…”.

“It’s okay Katie, I don’t expect anything from you, there is a great double feature on that I’d like to see and if I had your company, well, then it would be even better.” Steven smiled sweetly at her.

She dropped her eyes again but then raised her head and said defiantly, “Yes okay then, I suppose it will be alright.”

“Thanks for understanding Kate, tomorrow then, pick you up at six thirty, okay?” and he turned as she nodded, and simply walked away.

That night Steven arrived at Monicas’ townhouse complex. ‘No security’ he shook his head disgustingly. He approached the door and looked through the unfrosted glass in the frame beside it, noticing the hallway leading to a living area, and a hat rack with coats and hats arranged rather neatly. A row of casuals and running shoes lay parallel to the wall below the rack, and an umbrella leant almost up against the glass. The soft volume of Pink Floyd was playing somewhere. He knocked gently and heard Monicas’ voice.

“Can you get the door Di, it will be Steven”.

He heard footsteps coming down the stairs out of view, but obviously near to the front door. The door suddenly opened and Steven looked into two of the bluest eyes he had ever seen. They were dancing merrily and Steven smiled at her.

“Hi, Diane isn’t it, I’m Steven.”

Her voice shocked him back to normalcy. It was a beautiful

voice to match the eyes, but her words didn’t match.

“I don’t know what she sees in you, but I ‘spose you had better come in.” The eyes were still dancing and now full of mirth as well as she stepped back for him to enter.

“After you” he said.

He followed her down the short hallway. She was dressed in a shortish floral summer dress and had nice tanned legs, and overall a nice body, Steven noticed. She appeared to move her hips with a bit more flourish even as Steven was thinking about her but then she stopped suddenly and turned to face him.

“So, finished checking me over now, or would you like me down to my birthday suit so you can see it all?”

Her voice was hard and Steven was startled to see that her face was beautiful even though the eyes were now set like flints.

“Diane, I would love to see you naked” her brashness had fueled him up.

“You’re exactly like Monica said you’d be, a right arsehole, a smart mouthed arsehole.”

Steven was totally baffled by the venom in the voice of this angel.

“What have I ever done to you?”

It was the only thing he could think of to say and he wished he hadn’t almost immediately.

“It is you and the likes of you that are making women stronger everyday you arsehole” the absolute hatred in her eyes as well as her voice made Steven take two step backwards. “You think you can just keep treating us like shit as long as you can get what you want when you want it, head jobs on demand, a quick fuck while we’re up against the sink doing the dishes…”

“Diane!” Monicas voice cut her off in mid-tirade, and Steven looked at her with, he hoped, a level of appreciation that bordered on worship. Monica walked up behind Diane and put her arms around her shoulders. “It’s alright Baby” she cooed almost. “C’mon, how is he going to listen to us if you intend assaulting him every time he comes and visits? He’s here as my guest Babe, please let’s start off on the right foot at least.” She was turning Diane away from Steven as she spoke. “Give me a hand in the kitchen will you” and then to Steven, “Would you like a drink?”

He just nodded, still dumbfounded by the attack and not knowing what to do about anything at that point. They disappeared around the corner through the dining room, and Steven heard glasses clinking, and realized he hadn’t told Monica what he would like. He stepped off to follow and then stopped and thought better of it, taking a seat on the pappasan chair, that he noticed immediately was perfectly positioned to receive the stereo effect from the speakers. He loved ‘Floyd’, and tried to forget the pure viciousness from Diane while mellowing to the strains of the music. Monica was back in what seemed like moments with a glass of white wine. She handed it to him and Steven offered her a questioning look.

“I’m sorry Steven…” she hesitated when she saw him frown, and then smile broadly at her. “What’s the matter?” she asked.

“I never thought I’d see the day, you in a skirt, my God, wait until they hear about this at work”. Steven wondered how he hadn’t noticed earlier, but was reminded instantly.

“Maybe I should have just let her fly off at you, you are an arsehole”.