Chapter 7: The Enemy Within

“You all right, miss?”

The faraway voice echoed in her ears. Although everything was a dark blur, she could clearly make out a few distinctive features of the speaker only by her sense of smell. Somewhere deep inside her confused mind, she thought it was quite amusing to see things through her nose all of a sudden. The person spoke again.

“She’s awake, Rafe.” A baritone diesel drone with a slight suggestion of relief. “No blood, and she’s not… No, legs free… Oh, Mary, mother of Christ; that was close… ”

Suddenly feeling a bit sick, she wondered why the man had eaten rotten oranges. The smell was so intense that she imagined inhaling the colour orange. Then, a sudden cold feeling followed by intense pain. The voice disappeared for what seemed to be a few seconds or months, and then there were more people speaking around her. What was going on? The stink of petrol, dirt, manure and oily, smouldering plastic hit her nose and made her try to hold her breath. Something on her face forced cold and dry air back into her body, which felt a bit better. Was there a fire? She forced her left eye open and saw only patches of grey sky far above, and she had to close it when the world started to move in a strange, bobbing way. Something around her neck kept her from turning her head.

“She must’ve been doin’ fifty, at least...”

“Sixty, I’d say. Straight down yon lane an’ bang...”

“Aye. Lucky lass, that. Don’t reckon she’d been on the drink, though.”

She gratefully welcomed the warm embrace of a pink cloud and the white metal silence closing in on her. A friendly face appeared in her slowly reddening sight and she involuntarily giggled at the funny-looking monobrow above the blue eyes. It sounded like a drowning mouse. So this is the Luck of the Irish. I’m alive.

The friendly face spoke, and now she could hear properly. She tried to fix her gaze to the moving lips.

“She’s stable.” The face turned towards her and she was able to count the teeth. Sixteen. “You’re still with us, I see. You’ll be just fine.”

The words bounced back and forth behind her heavy eyelids until the pink cloud turned into a sugary gorge, gently enveloping her. This would probably mean, she thought; that she would be arriving late for dinner with Alex.

* * *

“Miss Garrett?”

For a fraction of a second, Niamh was back in school again. Another empty daydream.

“Miss Garrett? Niamh?”

The voice gravely mispronounced her name in a slightly charming way, and she opened her eyes to see what it was all about. A wiry little man met her gaze with a concerned smile. He was very dark, a sharp contrast to all the white. All the pastel-coloured cleanliness. She blinked. And here’s my cue: “Where am I?”. Her head suddenly buzzed like a jet engine about to start. In a hospital, of course. Which, by the way, does not spell capital NH feckin’ S because I’m alone in here, the sheets are pure heaven and I won’t leave the bed until I’ve figured out how to tell arsehole from Dr. Pinstripe here... As the smiling doctor tried her first name again, she stopped him in mid-Nimm and tried:

“What’s happened?” Magnificent start, since he’s already about to tell you.

“My name is Dr. Vikram Rajahmani. You have had a quite severe accident. There seem to have been higher forces involved, since you were practically unscathed when you were taken care of.”

“Anyone else injured?”

“No.” The doctor showed her a row of glistening teeth, and something clicked inside her. Ambulance. Pain. “Not a single soul.”

“But...” Niamh hesitated, trying to steady herself. They obviously had given her something really interesting judging from the way the wall swirled with colours when she turned her head. She noticed an expensive-looking purse on the bedside table, a little pink cadeau with a card but no flowers or any trace of chocolates. “Alex... Mrs. DeVries... Is she here? Has anyone...”

“Mrs. DeVries arranged for you to come here to us at Derwentwater, Miss Garrett. She arrived yesterday. You will be able to see her in a minute. There is, however, a matter we must discuss regarding the reason you were transferred here.” Dr. Rajahmani dropped the smile from his face.

Oh, that’s a bad-news mug if I ever saw one... Niamh thought without having anything to say. The air around her suddenly seemed to grow very thin.

“Fortuitously,” the doctor emphatically continued, “the hospital you were initially sent to performed a proper CT scan, which revealed something that was not caused by the accident, but rather might have been the cause of it.”

Niamh vaguely recollected the strange sensations she had experienced. There was a sudden chill in the room. She fumbled for the glass of water that wasn’t there, and rested her fingers on the purse instead. A little comfort.

“What...What exactly are you...”

“A spot on the screen the size of a large walnut near some very sensitive areas around...” Dr. Rajahmani indicated an area on his own head, “Around here. Now...” he continued in a level voice before the Big C note faded in her mind, “We have already performed additional tests and taken care of the most acute matters- that’s why we have shaved a bit of your hair off on the side... there, yes- please be careful with the little stent under the tape there, and there is no real reason to be alarmed.”

“No? What is it, then?” Niamh’s heart made a false start, but the drugs cropped the edge off the adrenaline. This was a head-on approach she did not expect from such a meek-looking fellow.

“We have found what we call a meningioma. A cyst in this case, entirely benign, probably caused by a previous injury that caused a minute haemorrhage... A blow to the head is sometimes enough... But it has developed somewhere it should not be at all.” The doctor announced, sounding like an odd lecturer in linguistics, or someone telling a story for a six-year old girl. Detached. I’m merely the appendix to my disease. “It appears to have been the culprit in this case. I must say I am very surprised. It is a very rare condition at your age.”

“What... What are you going to...?” Niamh felt her face contort as sticky tears exuded from her eyes.

Dr. Rajahmani immediately rounded the corner of the hospital bed, looking forlorn and a bit remorseful. He was probably as used to the patient-comforting bit as Niamh was to being hospitalized. It was too much to take in at once. To his relief, a sylphlike nurse appeared out of nowhere and saved his day. Niamh buried her head in her apron as several strings within her snapped, and she slumped back in the bed. Where is Alex?

* * *

The weight next to her on the bed shifted and the warmth disappeared. She woke up to see a familiar figure looking out the window five steps away, and this time her heart responded the way it should. Fresh blood cleared her head in an instant, and she felt like jumping out of the bed before her body caught up with her. Instead, she sat up straight and got rid of the thick duvet.

In a single, sweeping stride, Alex returned and embraced her. Very gently, as if she was afraid that Niamh might break into pieces. The kisses she gave her were light as feathers as well, but when she spoke Niamh felt her eyes water again and not only with relief. Crikey, she’s been smoking a chimneyful.

“Oh, ik ben zo boos op je; en ik weet niet waarom...” (Oh, I'm so mad at you, and I do not know why)

”I’m fine. Just fine.” Niamh tried, and caught up. “Be angry if you want. Just don’t cry, ‘cause I won’t be able to hold back… And… ”

“You could have been killed, en me verlaten*… You must have been feeling ill. Why didn’t you say anything?” *(and left me)

Niamh felt a tinge of guilt. It was strange to have anyone else than her mother so close to her, giving her grief for putting her life on the line so that they would be left behind, all alone in this world. A part of her wanted to explain that blacking out behind the wheel on a country lane was not something she would turn into a habit, but this was not the right moment for comic relief. She got lost in the green glint in Alex’ eyes, lost for words. Despite having been there for what Niamh suspected was quite a long time, Alex looked anything but shabby. A slight puffiness around the eyes indicated that she had been crying, but that was all. Even the seams on her stockings were straight as far as Niamh could see.

They talked for a long while, and Alex tried to explain what had been said to her about the procedure that was to be carried out. She thought she would do better than the doctor, and Niamh didn’t object to that even if she had a hard time understanding what a gamma knife was, or what a minimal invasive operation meant. It was as if Alex tried to talk them both into feeling relatively safe.

“Nursing school.” Alex explained in between. “Can’t help myself. I’m not familiar with much of the new technical, er... things, but I’m not worried about the risks.”

“Try convincing me some more.” Niamh grunted, making herself comfortable right next to Alex. “You’ve done fairly well so far. Meanwhile, I’ll fantasize about you as a nurse.”

* * *

The same night, bits and pieces of the events right before the surgery flicked through her mind. Whatever they had put in that syringe surely did its thing, and she still remembered the floating colours and the feeling of total bliss. The blue plastic mask, and the oxygen making her lungs feel like Montgolfiers soaring into the blue sky. Then, then smell of sea followed by uncanny distorted sounds before the ensuing silence.

She felt her face blush a little when she recalled the vivid hallucinations from that moment. She thought she could see Theresa’s face before her, and feel the weight of the strait jacket on her all over again. It was so very lucid, and quite confusing.

Niamh laughed silently to herself. Not even during possibly life-threatening moments her mind gave up trying to play silly buggers with her. The thought made her feel a bit better, until she began pondering over what really got her here. They fried something inside my head. Something the doctors considered highly atypical and entirely benign, but it was in her head. What would happen if it suddenly came back? It could, couldn’t it? Would she be able to function normally now, or would some strange side effect make her disabled in some way? She shivered. It was mindless anxiety, but hard to put aside nevertheless.

As if to reassure herself, she got up from the bed and limbered up a little. She wiggled her toes after putting on the slippers, taking excessive care to check all motor functions. Everything seemed fine, and even though she was feeling exhausted, there was no dizziness or diffuse nausea weighing her down. Not even the slightest headache or strange taste that shouldn’t be there anymore, which she noticed with great relief.

The small, black jewel case on the left bedside table caught her attention. She had left it open, and the ring lying on the green velvet reflected the little light that was left. Niamh absent-mindedly picked it up and put it on her finger. The swelling was almost gone, and it fit perfectly. Alex had almost ceremoniously presented the ring to her, and Niamh had accepted it in a less formal way with quite a lot of emotion. Now, the unadorned gold felt more real to her than almost anything else.

* * *

Only hours before she was due to be discharged, Nichola and Tim came to visit her. Niamh acted like she hadn’t seen them for ages, and they were quite taken aback to see her in such a state. They probably hadn’t expected her to be up and about like nothing had happened.

Nichola had brought her kit and gave Niamh a much-needed impromptu makeover, primarily including a new hairstyle to conceal the bald patches. Tim tried to understand what had happened in the accident, stuttering cautiously about what he had thought when he had seen what remained of his car. He tried to avoid too much detail, just in case. Niamh explained what had been said to her.

“The last thing I remember is that I’m on my way to... Well, work; I guess. I start to feel like I’ve got something in my eyes, and then nada.” she said, snapping her fingers. “They say that I’ll probably never remember those five to ten- perhaps fifteen minutes before and after the...”

“You went like a rotary mower through a hedge, an iron gate and halfway through a field full of sheep without as much as a broken nail,” Nichola announced, “and I swear they will find pieces of that motor the summer after next. Now, if that ain’t being lucky...

“I got it sorted out with the insurance and all, so no worries about that.” Tim tried in an effort to smooth it over. “We’re... We’re just happy you’re still with us, is what I’m trying to say. I heard they were able to...” Spinning with his finger around his temple, he shunned all medical expressions in favour of less loaded sign language without doing very well.

Niamh glanced at her reflection in the mirror. An unusually focused Nic Scissorhands was slowly perfecting a rather fetching Chelsea haircut. A wan smile grazed her lips.

“Yeah. I vill no longer covet ze blood of virgins. Sorry about your car, Timothy”.

“Good riddance. Granny’s Stanza is a wicked ride, know what I mean? That’s what she told me, anyway.”

Nichola tried to steer the conversation into the matter of where Niamh was being treated. It was an impressing hospital, to say the least, and she was wondering who was going to pay the bill. Niamh answered quite vaguely, saying something about being on the best contract she’d ever had, which wasn’t technically a lie. Tim, always a bit on the fast side, complimented her on her choice of employer who he described as a queen- sized Fanny Ardant. Obviously they had bumped into each other, Niamh thought, and the description was fairly accurate. Coming from a movie buff like Tim, that was pure praise. But to me there’s more than meets the eye.

* * *

“Come on! I’m out of pleases already!”

Nearly a week had passed since they left the hospital and Niamh was slowly growing frantic with being treated as a convalescent. She kept trying to convince everyone, especially Alex, that she was feeling better than ever and that there was no reason to worry about her. Excess energy flooded her system and she felt like taking on all the work that had been left behind at once, cook and undertake a major autumn housecleaning. Moreover, there was a side effect no doctor could possibly have foreseen that inflicted on her with tremendous force. Her libido was stuck in constant overdrive, and Alex refused to let her loose on a rampage.

“Are you really, really sure that’s such a great idea?” Alex sighed, not quite managing to conceal her enjoyment. Niamh was certain that she too had come to the conclusion that there was no great risk in getting more serious than just cuddling, which was what she had been forced to put up with for several days now, but Alex still held back any endeavour in that direction. She had even tried her best to keep Niamh from satisfying herself, which only meant stoking the fire.

“Actually, I think we’re running out of options.” Niamh retorted. “It’s that or you’ll have to find some real powerful sedatives and a blowpipe.”

The situation had worsened considerably since the long awaited order from A&T had arrived, with a long letter from Theresa enclosed. Apart from a heartfelt wish for a speedy recovery, she had added a few things under the headline !Read only if you feel well enough (honestly)! which Niamh immediately recognized as an invitation.

As a result, she had spent quite some time going through all the goods while occasionally reading the letter over and over with a silly grin on her crimson face. Theresa went into great detail about new discoveries, and reminded Niamh about their little deal. She also pointed out that there were, apart from a few extras added to Niamh’s garments, a few samples from her range of personal favourites thrown into the bargain for free. Sugar on top.

Alex had been rather surprised to find a rail packed with neatly arranged rubberwear, washed and dip-shined to a lustrous finish in her downstairs study when she had arrived home that evening.

“I promise to God I’ll be careful.” Niamh moaned.

“Oh, dearie me. Well, all right then.” Alex’ smile wouldn’t have shamed a Cheshire cat. “But I won’t stand for any...”

“Audacious behaviour of any kind, yes, thank you. I promised you, didn’t I?”

Niamh received a hefty slap on her bum and scuttled upstairs closely followed by Alex.

* * *

“You seem to have given this some serious thought, kiddo.” Alex mused when she found out that everything Niamh had picked for the occasion was placed in a plastic crate in the towel cupboard, ready to use. “It’ll be fun to see what you had in mind.”

“Yeah?” Kiddo? “I have a feeling...” Niamh mumbled as she handed Alex a heavy, slithery bundle. “A feeling that you might not be entirely off beam there.”

“Oh, you couldn’t have picked a nicer one when you were at it, could you?”

Alex expressively unfolded the garment and held it up against her. It was a fairly well-worn faded black catsuit without any frills other than incorporated socks, cut in an apparent unisex style.

“I’m sure there must have been something else in that closet,” Alex complained. “I use this as an undergarment, you know. For outdoor activities. It must have been sitting there for ages.”

“I just felt how soft it was. Classy stuff. It’s perfect for this.”

“Well, if you say it is. But it’s no use trying to polish it, and there’s just a one-way back zip.”

“I’m no fun to be with now, then? I noticed that. It’s fine.” Niamh chuckled. “How come you sound like a teenage me all of a sudden? Get your kit on now, if you please; ma’am.”

“I thought you rather would have liked to see me in that lovely red one I ordered instead of this old bag. And what is that? I didn’t see that before.” Alex went on as Niamh produced a short-sleeved surf suit in a strangely appealing shade of cerulean blue from the crate.

“Perk offered by Ms.T herself, nearly free of charge.” Niamh bubbled as she spun around clutching the suit tightly to her curves. She noticed how Alex raised her eyebrows slightly at the sight of the interesting extra features on it. It was made out of fairly thick latex, and there were a few D-rings and unobtrusive straps suggesting rather elaborate possibilities of bondage.

Niamh needed only a minute to get changed. The suit slid onto her skin like an organic being, generously coated with lube on the inside. She smiled when she discovered the little silver teddy bear attached to the piece of cord used to pull up the back zip. Details...

Alex was sitting on a stool with the suit pulled halfway up her legs, too busy admiring the slightly plump elf in front of her to get dressed. Niamh snuck past her curious hands and began helping her out without appearing too impetuous. Within a moment, save a few seconds for Alex grumbling over too much talc in the suit, Niamh was able to pull the long zip up Alex’ back and hand her a pair of short gloves.

“Hey presto! No, don’t let your hair down. It’ll get messy.”

“I was going to say ‘was that it?’, but now I’m all ears again.”

“The divan in the guest room is prepped and ready. Wait for me there, please.” Niamh said, tiptoeing away.

“Why there? Where are you off to, sweetie?”

“Close to the bathroom. Downstairs, to the kitchen. BeeArrBee.”

* * *

Niamh was a little surprised at her own cool, composed and methodical way of preparing all the fun. This was something new for her, always the one giving in to passion when things became a little heated. She snapped out of her thoughts as the ice maker rattled, filling the plastic cup. She quickly wrapped a linen towel around it and put it aside to open the refrigerator door.

The idea had slowly appeared in her mind, and she was positive she had read about it in some magazine years ago. It had seemed such a weird thing to do at first, but it made perfect sense when she gave it ‘some serious thought’. Kiddo, eh?

Cold air brushed past her toes as she reached inside the refrigerator, fetching two large cartons of yoghurt that she placed on the worktop next to her. She deliberated for a moment while reading the table of contents, and frowned at the fancier-looking carton. Not entirely sure about the benefits of soyghurt, which she read as sog-yurt, she put it back and opted for the locally produced double cream instead. Two pints of the yoghurt, which despite being marked ‘natural’ proved to be both slightly lumpy and decidedly tasting of vanilla, and a big glug of the cream ended up in a water jug that she put in the microwave. It just about fit into it, and she watched it intently as it slowly spun inside the oven. Is it just me, or does that smell of success?

Alex looked a bit forlorn sitting on the divan when Niamh returned upstairs. She was playing a little with the large black rubber sheet spread over it, and poked questioningly with her feet at the plastic covering the floor around it. The sight of her face when Tinker Bell appeared in the doorway with a jug and a wrapped cup was priceless, Niamh thought. She bit her lower lip to smother a giggle.

“I was becoming a bit worried about all this protection,” Alex said quizzically, “but now when you’re Bee I’m back in simply baffled-mode again. What are you up to, eekhoorntje?” (squirrel)

Niamh stole a kiss from her to avoid too much further talking and stationed herself behind the divan, placing everything she needed within reach. With slow, caressing strokes, she deftly opened Alex’ back zip from her neck down to her shoulders.

“Ooh, it’s cold.”

“Sshh. It won’t be for long. Lean forward, please...”

The sound of Alex’ bewildered moaning when the warm, rich yoghurt touched her skin and began spreading down her back inside the suit made Niamh weak at the knees. She eased up on the pouring and let the liquid trickle slowly downwards under the rubber. Alex pulled at the neck opening, and Niamh moved the lip of the jug slightly forward to spill a little down in front as well. Her stomach lurched when she noticed how Alex couldn’t keep still any longer. Squirming slowly, she tried to make the silky warmth flow all over her.

Niamh responded by pouring faster, letting the yoghurt flow in a thick stream until the suit filled up to the opening, and then using her fingers to guide it further down.

“Stretch your legs. Let it flow all the way down.”

Alex moved languidly when she shifted her weight, breathing deeply through her teeth as if she was sitting in a very hot bath. It appeared as if the black rubber grew tighter on her skin as the warm fluid slowly oozed along her limbs, smoothing out every crease on the surface. The last spoonful left a cobweb pattern in the back of her neck, and Niamh couldn’t resist licking it up as she closed the zip again. She thought it tasted surprisingly familiar and decidedly sexy.

Very gently, Niamh laid Alex down on the divan and began massaging the yoghurt in; letting her hands travel all the way from the toes up along the legs. She lingered a few seconds at the back of the knees, which caused Alex to wince and giggle, before she continued to squeeze the impressively muscular thighs. She was still very jealous of those.

Alex sighed deeply as Niamh lowered herself down on top of her like a spider closing in on its prey.

“Oh, this is...”

“Sshhh...” Niamh hissed, kissing her on the cheek as she moved into position. “Je praat te veel...” (You talk too much)

She could almost sense how her mind gradually shut down to function only on instinct as she started moving in accord with the warm, softening body underneath her. There was something extremely sensual, almost feral, about everything she perceived. The body heat, the hammering heartbeat next to hers and the heavy, hoarse breathing together with the feeling of soft rubber on her skin. The strangely appealing squishing sounds and the competing smells of sulphury sweet latex, milky vanilla and what could only be described as Just Alex. It was purely electrifying, and she could only imagine how Alex felt in her clingy, gooey second skin.

Niamh absorbedly watched Alex’ delightfully animated face, a perfect image of someone having the ultimate erotic dream. The little noises she made; purring and whimpering, made Niamh think of a luxuriating cat. She felt a surge of excitement when she perceived a gentle swell rolling through Alex, and began moving more encouragingly. A smile flickered past Alex’ lips as she playfully tugged at one of the ring attachments on Niamh’s surf suit. Someone was obviously having a pleasant little fantasy, she thought.

The barely noticeable ripples gradually grew more intense and Niamh could see and feel Alex trying to stay in control, although she was too far gone for that. The exhilarating, spine-tingling feeling of power made Niamh even more aroused. Taming tigers into kittens, hiding claws in pretty mittens...

A slight, gurgling moan marked the ending of the prelude, and Niamh suddenly felt rather lightweight when Alex began convulsing. She wrapped her arms and legs around Niamh and clung on to her, slapping violently against the sheathed divan, which creaked disapprovingly. Niamh fought back, writhing and slithering, and managed to wrestle herself free as Alex ran out of strength. She quickly reached for the cup and poured a couple of melting ice cubes into her mouth. Lavishing Alex’ nipples, neck and belly with icy kisses, Niamh managed to create a few sparks of lucidness in her eyes long enough to make brief contact; only to watch her slowly fade into orgasmic bliss again.

She came to rest on top of her, warming the chilly spots where the ice had left wet streaks with her own body. To protect them from the cold draft from the windows, she pulled the rubber sheet up and wrapped it around them both. It felt heavy, but it was keeping the tremendous warmth radiating from Alex trapped in a cosy cocoon.

Niamh lay still and felt Alex breathe under her, watching her as she seemed to drift into unconsciousness with the tip of her pink tongue sticking out between her teeth. Creamy yoghurt was slowly seeping out from the suit at the neckline, forming suggestive little white pools on the sheet. Only the persistent throbbing between her legs kept her from drifting off as well, but she didn’t mind waiting.

Soon they would both be in the shower, probably too preoccupied with each other to bother with tidying up; which suited her just fine. But right there and then, lying in the dim guest room under the sheet together with Alex, she felt as if she couldn’t ask for anything more. Silent tears of relief trickled down her cheeks. How lucky could you get before the tide turned on you? Best not to think about that. Best not to think anything at all.

30.08.10