Diplomatic BaggageChapter 2 A Missing Diplomat
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Ana was afflicted by an illness which distorted her senses, brought her to hot flushes and dominated her every waking moment, but an illness so pleasurable and delightful she mourned rather that she'd never been so afflicted before. She was in love. She was totally and passionately in love. For the first time she understood and relished every word of every love song. They were written for her. They expressed the feelings she had. She observed courting couples on the bus or in the park with a warmth and affection she'd never felt before. Her heart was truly light, she walked on a cushion of air and everything was wonderful.
Even at work, those awkward moments when there was nothing to do and she was waiting for her next assignment became full with reflections on and images of her lover. Binta smiling. Binta laughing. The things she would say as they nuzzled together under the silk sheets. Everywhere was imprinted with her image. It was so vivid. As was the remembrance of her voice heard so clearly in her mind's ear, reassuring and comforting her. The memory of the image, touch and warmth of Binta's naked skin. She could almost feel her flesh against her fingers as she averted her gaze away from the calendar of semi-clad women on the office wall towards the clouds wisping through the deep blue sky. She smiled to herself again, as she did so often these days.
"You look pretty pleased with yourself!" remarked Khedra, popping by to leave an envelope in the Director's in-tray. "A good day's work?"
Ana nodded - her mind focusing on the evening ahead when again, like every evening when Binta wasn't working, hours of patient reflection were to be rewarded by a passionate and close embrace. When, again, she and Binta would idly slump on the sheets and spend long unhurried hours together, never bored with each other's company and never lost for anything to say. Indeed, she had come to dread the inevitable rude bell of Binta's alarm clock in the morning that told her to get dressed and return to the office.
Weekends were particularly pleasant, especially when Binta didn't have to work. No alarm clock and no reason to get up. A day together without interruption and free from anxiety. A day of relaxation and calm.
It was during such a weekend she and Binta were lying beneath the sheets spent by their mutual exertions, a sweet smell adhering to Ana's fingers and a faint odour of shared sweat. Ana gazed at the ceiling, studying the faint spidery cracks in the plaster, her head resting on Binta's shoulder, smiling with sensual satisfaction.
"Hiya!" Ana suddenly heard. "I saw you weren't working so I..." Whose voice was that? Who was it addressed to? She raised her head to see the naked figure of Ketaba framed by the door and looking rather startled. "Oh! ... I see you've got company, Binta. I didn't know! And goodness me! It's Ana! I'd never have guessed! Ana!"
"Hello Ketaba," greeted Binta reluctantly, disengaging herself from the weight of her lover's body. "Didn't anybody tell you to knock before coming in?"
Ketaba looked rather embarrassed. More embarrassed even than Ana who hastily pulled up the sheets to cover her breasts. "I didn't know! It's usually okay! I just didn't think ... And with Ana, too! I thought she had more sense!"
"Don't start preaching, Ketaba," said Binta sternly. "If you want to stay here, fine! But don't upset poor Ana. And close the door!"
Ketaba nodded sheepishly and eased the door behind her. She sat by the mirror, lifted up her hair and dropped it down loosely behind the chair. Binta reluctantly pulled herself out from between the sheets and sat on the edge of the bed facing Ketaba.
"So how are you today, Ketaba? You're not working now, are you?"
"No, I don't start for a few hours. I'm between shifts. I volunteered for overtime. Towards the cost of a holiday, you know."
"Are you doing two shifts in one day?" exclaimed Binta. "I would have thought once was enough for anyone. Surely even you must be tired by now and looking forward to nothing better than a rest."
"The money helps, you know. I've never been one to turn down the opportunity of a bit of extra work..."
"And it keeps you fit as well?" Binta sneered. "I can't believe that you're ever short of money. With your dedication to the profession you must be one of the most highly paid prostitutes in the whole Brothel. And you probably make as much again from clients' gratuities. What do you want the money for?"
Ketaba seemed unbalanced by Binta's criticism as if she'd never really considered that question before. She glanced at Ana lying under the sheets, of whom only her shoulders and head were visible. The silk sheets did nothing to disguise the contours of Ana's body, but in the presence of two naked women what could that possibly matter? Ketaba's stare seemed to linger rather longer than necessary, and when she returned her gaze to Binta a flicker of guilt seemed to pass across her heavy-lidded eyes.
"There must be a reason, Ketaba, for you to want to work all these extra hours. Do you really relish your work so much that you can't bear to rest from it?"
"Unlike you, Binta, I enjoy the company of my clients. They may not be the most handsome or attractive people there are, but with few exceptions they are essentially decent people who are happy with the services I provide. And I am happy to satisfy them. There is an art, a skill, to prostitution and, if nothing else, I get considerable professional satisfaction from doing a worthwhile job well. I have many regulars, and when you become more familiar with the same clients you soon think of them as more than so much inadequate meat. And they soon come to respect you ever more. Your problem, Binta, is not just your dubious sexual preferences, but that you never show any sympathy or understanding towards the men who come to see you."
Ana found Ketaba's description slightly comforting. "You make it sound like you're more of a nurse or social worker than a prostitute," she remarked. The image allowed her to regard Binta's work with more equanimity.
"That's an interesting and fair comparison. Quite often the clients want from me not the services for which I am so expertly equipped and trained to provide, but just for a sympathetic ear. Many have no one else they can speak to. They may have no wife or lover and few friends. They may be locked in a loveless and unhappy marriage. They may have worries and concerns with business or health that they can't off-load on anyone else. And I tell you, Binta, that when you speak to your clients like that they soon become more human and you get quite fond of them. There is one client I have who spends more than two hours a week with me, and all he ever does is talk about how his estranged wife extracts ever more money from him..."
" ... when you're not doing it yourself!" sniffed Binta. "Your services don't exactly come cheap, and with your ratings you must be bleeding your clients dry. Not that I care much for them if you did!"
"It's no wonder you have such a miserable time working here with attitudes like that! You really ought to try and get to know your clients better. Your gratuities will increase dramatically, your work won't seem nearly as arduous and you may even improve your PAR. Try it and see!"
"I appreciate your kind advice, Ketaba," Binta responded conciliatorily. "But if you don't like men at all to begin with, you're not going to be particular sincere about wanting to know them better. They really are irredeemably loathsome, and my daily ordeal only further reinforces that opinion!"
"It's your whole outlook on life that's poisoning you, Binta. And your disgusting perversions are just an aspect of the poison creeping through your soul. You need a much more positive, outward-going, life-inspiring attitude. You need to examine deep inside yourself, release your pent-up energies and confront your karma. Nurture the inner goodness that must reside in you, - otherwise you wouldn't adopt the life-enhancing practice of naturism, - let it swell inside you and release a torrent of positive vibrations onto the world around you. If you feel good, you inspire good feelings. And good feelings make you feel good. A virtuous cycle which can do you no harm!"
"And how is that going to improve my life as a prostitute? I don't exactly have a great deal of opportunity to meditate or empathise with my clients. All they want and all the gratification they desire is released within seconds with no respect at all for the finer feelings of the women who collect our soiled laundry every day. I'm sure my goodness would flourish considerably better elsewhere."
Ketaba smiled. "You don't understand me at all, Binta. Your spiritual and mental health are, and should be, utterly distinct from the environment you're in. Sure, a good and healthy environment like Agdal, with the heat of the sun on naked flesh and plenty of healthy amenities, is far more conducive to a positive vibe than a life confined by the Brothel walls. But one can have an inner peace, an Agdal within, which can flourish in any place and withstand all trials and tribulations. One's soul can soar to the stars even when one's body is caged in rooms of satin, silk and polyester carpets."
"You're talking nonsense, Ketaba. You really have to be blinkered to get any kind of enlightenment here. Tell me then, for the sake of argument, what I have to do to achieve an inner peace? Perhaps Ana will be inspired even if I won't be."
"I can't imagine Ana being at all inspired in the atmosphere of your cynicism and doubt," Ketaba said ruefully, but smiling affectionately at Binta's lover. "But what you have to remember first of all is that a healthy mind comes with a healthy body. If one has good health coursing through your body, you look good, you feel good and it does you good. Plenty of exercise. That's the order of the day."
"We often go swimming," Ana remarked, aware that recently they had been rather less often than before, as the excuse for doing so had come to seem superfluous.
"Swimming is good. Very good!" Ketaba approved. "As is weight training, jogging, walking, squash and contact sports. However, nothing can beat the all-round value of making love in building up a healthy and efficient body. No other exercise is as good at exercising the abdominal muscles, the upper torso, providing fast and rapid breathing exercises and exerting the heart. It makes you feel good afterwards and the perspiration cleans the skin of really deep ingrained dirt."
"Maybe it does when you make love with your clients, Ketaba. The clients simply leave me unsightly bruises around my upper legs and a feeling of relief when they're finally through the door..."
"Again, Binta, it's your attitude that is at fault. If you had a more positive attitude then you wouldn't find the exercise so unpleasant. Besides I'm sure that not all your lovemaking is as you describe it." She glanced meaningfully at Ana lying stretched out under the sheets, who blushed at the implication. She shyly looked at Binta who had followed Ketaba's gaze and smiled into Ana's eyes. Ana smiled back, and a rush of emotion caught the back of her throat. She was so much in love!
Kierra
- 15.12.2022
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