Chapter 20

Kitty

I just couldn’t go with the suit for the presentation. 

I loved how it looked.

I really did.

It just didn’t feel okay. 

Or right.

Or something.

I resigned to my usual version of ’smart clothes,’ a long-sleeved top, navy blue trousers, and a pair of dark trainers. 

I worried and muttered all the way into the History Department and the seminar room itself which proved to be an imposing affair of dark wooden walls lined with bookshelves full of literally dusty hardback tomes. An ancient and hefty table took up the majority of the room’s centre, surrounded by matching throne-like chairs. The only nod to modernity was a large monitor which had been wheeled in near the head of the table. 

Nervously I found the cable at the back of it and attached my laptop, begging the tech gods to smile down upon me. I sighed with relief when my desktop appeared on the screen and panicked when I saw a couple of my non-scholarly document titles on full display. 

I scrambled to open the Power Point presentation as the door opened and several muttering postgraduate students and faculty members filed in. 

They all dressed to match their station, smartly “casual” for the students, and seemingly-ancient for the faculty. The low hum of chatter subsided as they took their seats and my palms sweated as I stood waiting. 

“Take a seat Katherine,” my supervisor gestured to the head of the table as he sat at the far end, 

“We have some housekeeping to cover before you start.”

“Oh, yes… of course,” I sat down quickly on the chair near the screen and sucked in my breath hard as I landed on a particularly sore spot. 

“Are you alright, Katherine?” Professor Harris asked, looking concerned. 

“Ah…” I shifted, “Yes, sir, just… pulled something.”

He looked at me sceptically but not unkindly. 

“I’ll be alright,” I tried to smile. 

Noticeably bemused, he turned to my supervisor, who had started to talk about forthcoming meetings. I tried desperately to sit comfortably but it seemed Astrid had been very thorough. 

I considered trying to hold myself up, hovering above the seat on my forearms when I heard my name being mentioned. 

“...Dr Baxter, are you ready to share your work?” my supervisor was asking, looking directly at me. 

Everyone at the table was looking at me as well. 

“Ah, yes,” I grinned, blushed, and struggled out of the seat. 

“I really must be more careful on my morning jog,” I winced at my obvious lie. 

“Indeed,” Professor Harris concurred. 

I grinned cheerily as I stood by the screen and tried to stand still as I started to speak. Perhaps it was the pain, or trying to hide said pain, but it all went by surprisingly quickly and I felt like I covered everything thoroughly by the time I was done. 

I even got a smattering of applause, a rather uncommon occurrence, given my previous experience of these kinds of seminars. 

The questions that followed were intelligent and carefully considered. Except Professor Harris’ which had been ’more of a comment than a question.’ 

I tried not to groan when he started his non-query that way, and look interested and not in spectacular discomfort. 

The seminar concluded, my supervisor, Professor Harris, and Dr Palmer, a rather pinched woman in a tweed skirt suit, lingered as the students filed out. 

“Very well done Miss Baxter,” Professor Harris forgot my doctorate again, and I wondered if it was on purpose or just common old garden sexism, “You have come a long way with this.”

“Thank you, Professor,” I hoped he would soon shut up so I could leave and find ice to apply to my aching arse. 

“You must come to the next faculty dinner,” he suggested and I noted my supervisor and Dr Palmer’s surprise.

“Oh,” I was startled too, “Yes, um, of course, I would be delighted.”

He nodded curtly, “Talk to my secretary and she can give you the details. And do bring any gentleman you might be stepping out with.”

I tried take that in, “Yes, ah, but of course. Thank you, I will.”

My supervisor nodded and smiled gently. 

He really could be very kind. 

“Very well done, Katherine. I look forward to seeing you at the dinner and reading your next chapter soon.”

“Absolutely,” I smiled at him. 

I began to pack up my laptop as they turned and left. 

”Katherine.”´

“Oh!” I banged my knee on the desk as I swivelled, not having noticed Dr Palmer remaining, “I’m sorry, I didn’t see you there, Dr Palmer.”

“Hmmm,” she murmured her disapproval, “You did well today, Katherine.”

I noted that she, like the Professor, addressed me without my doctorate. Something I would never have felt I could do with them.

“Thank you, Dr Palmer.”

“Yes, well,” she tutted, “I have to say, you really must think about dressing a little more appropriately.”

“I’m… sorry?”

“No need to apologise,” she misunderstood me, “but really, Katherine, you won’t be taken seriously if you dress like a first-year student.”

I glanced down at myself. 

“It was fine when you were doing your PhD I suppose, but now, you’re being invited to faculty events and presenting at seminars. You really must represent yourself properly.”

She took my stunned silence as assent and nodded.

“Very good then,” she swivelled and clicked her pumps out the door. 

I watched her go, feeling even worse than before the presentation itself. 

Astrid

The day had been the usual grind around the West End, delivering packages to grateful receptionists and ungrateful executives. All the while, I’d thought of Kitty and her presentation. 

She had been behaving well since the weekend prior, calling me each evening to let me know she wasn’t working late but also to tell me how nervous she had been for that day. 

I told her to be in touch when she was done but so far I hadn’t heard anything. 

When I got off my shift, I realised I’d missed a text from her and quickly opened it. 

Presentation went well. But feeling like shit. Could you call, Miss? 

Still standing next to the moped, I clicked the call button under the text. 

“Hey darling, what’s going on?” I asked urgently as soon as the line connected.

“Hello, Miss, I’m sorry about the text, I’m okay,” she answered flatly.  

“Tell me what’s going on, girl,¨ I insisted. 

“Sorry,” she perked up, “Um… the presentation went well. I think the faculty were really happy with me, Miss.”

“That’s great, right?”

“Yeah…” Kitty paused, “They want me to go to the next faculty dinner.”

“Wow,” I replied, with no frame of reference as to whether that was significant or not, but sensing it might be, “But that’s a bad thing?”

“No,” she answered, sullen, “But they want me to bring a gentleman I am stepping out with.”

I suppressed a spurt of laughter.

“A gentleman… you’re stepping out with?”

“Yeah.”

“That’s…” I tried to be supportive, “quite specific language.”

“I know, I know,” Kitty sighed, “Some of them are as archaic as the subject matter.”

“And you’re worried about telling them you don’t have a gentleman?” I asked as gently as I could. 

“I suppose, Miss,” she mumbled.

“It’s okay,” I tried to reassure her, but felt a sharp pang as I added “You could… just not mention me.”

“I want you to be there.”

I was surprised. And then surprised I should be surprised. 

I had surmised Kitty was nervous about being visibly out sometimes. And especially how she was seen at her work. 

I tried to respect that, but it had been hard when all I wanted to do was be very demonstrative with her whenever I felt like it.

“I’m glad.”

“Could you… come over, Miss?” she asked, still sounding anxious, or nervous, or something. 

“Of course,” I realised again how much I just wanted to be with her, “I’m finished at work now, I could ride over straight away?”

“Yes please, Miss,” she answered simply. 

“Okay, stay put, and I’ll be there soon,” I walked into the office to clock out. 

“Yes, Miss.”

I stopped past Tesco’s on the way and bought a bouquet of flowers wrapped in plastic and some chocolates also wrapped in plastic. 

As I was paying, I considered how corny my assortment was. 

Less of a celebration and more like I was trying to woo ’the lady I was stepping out with.’ 

Well, too late now, I thought, as I had just paid for them. 

I mounted the scooter, which burped back into life from my swift kick. 

It really had started to get more idiosyncratic of late, having started to make a new grumbling sound when idling. 

I sputtered to a halt in front of Kitty’s building and was greeted at the door by Andy, who was adorned in a magnificent orange gown of sequins and rhinestones. His make-up was in the preparation stages and his short-hair gathered into a wig-net. 

“I’m sorry if I interrupted you?”

“Not at all,” Andy’s broad smile turned into put-on shock seeing the flowers and box of Quality Street, “For me?!”

“Um…”

“Just joshing. I know they’re for the lady fair.”

I smiled back, uneasy he might be mocking me. 

“Come in,” Andy gestured, “She’s holed up in her bedroom.” 

“Is she alright?” I entered and took off my coat. 

“I imagine… Maybe?” Andy shrugged, “I didn’t notice. I was busy doing my costume tests.”

“You do look glorious.”

“Don’t I?” he twirled with undisguised glee. 

“Yes,” I laughed as we walked into the kitchen where I stopped, “I best go check on the girl though.”

Andy winked knowingly before skipping into what was presumably his room. 

I was struck again by how filthy their kitchen was, with plates piled up near the sink, half-open packages of crumbling mince-pies - Early in the season, I thought - and tea mugs with thick brown rings on the inside strewn everywhere I looked. 

I remembered what Kelly said about them, and swallowed.

I knocked on Kitty’s door. 

“Yes?” 

“It’s me, darling.”

“Oh, come in, Miss,” she called back. 

Kitty’s room was as messy as before, but at least without used tea mugs on her desk. 

Though I wondered if those were the ones I had seen in the kitchen. 

Her suit hung over the chair back and other assorted clothes were sprawled across the floor. 

Kitty sat sitting cross-legged on the bed, her back resting against the wall. 

Uncharacteristically, I noted the long-sleeved t-shirt and navy trousers. 

Quite fetching, I thought 

“How are you doing?” I stepped over a pair of jeans and into the room proper. 

“I don’t know,” she looked at her hands. 

I noted the lack of my title as I closed the door. 

I sat on the end of the bed but didn’t reach for her. 

“Just start anywhere,” I suggested. 

Kitty sighed. 

“I should be really happy,” she admonished herself, pausing to look out the window, “I think I did really well, but then after… I felt like I was just some oddity.”

I remained still.

“Going to the faculty dinner is a big deal,” Kitty confirmed, “It should be exciting but I’m scared they will think I’m a freak.”

“Kitty…” I reached a hand to her knee. 

She looked up at me, near to tears. 

“Will you please come with me?”

“Of course, I will,” I promised.

“Apparently, I need to dress like an adult,” she looked down at her hands again.

“An adult?”

“Yeah… Proper,” she glanced up. 

“Well, you just got the suit,” I suppressed the urge to get up and hang it properly.

“Ummm… Maybe I should wear something more… dressy.”

“Dressy?”

“Well… A dress.” 

“A dress?” I was confused.

“Yeah, it’s kind of a formal affair. All the faculty, all dolled up and sitting down in the dining room.”

“And you want to wear a dress?”

“Yeah,” she answered entirely unconvincing, “I mean, I think it’s a good idea.”

I shook my head. 

I didn’t know what to say. 

It seemed so obvious at the shops, what it was that Kitty really wanted. 

“Are you sure you need to?”

“Would you please lend me something?” she asked so earnestly it ached, “And help with some make-up. I’m terrible with the stuff.”

“I… I mean, of course,” I wasn’t sure what else to suggest.

“Thank you, Miss,” she replied, before quickly adding, “Shit, I’ve been forgetting that the whole time you’ve been here.”

“It’s okay. Really.” 

“No, it’s not!” she retorted sharply to my shock, before adding, “Miss.”

She looked dejected. 

And I was at a loss. 

I decided to do the thing that helped Kitty before.

“You’re right, it’s not,” I said sternly, stood, and looked through the rubble of her room for her small CD player. 

Finding it under pages of crumpled A4, I pressed the ’play’ button. 

A man’s low voice and what sounded like a ukulele emerged. 

I turned up the volume and turned to Kitty.

“So, I think I’ll discipline you now.”

She stared up at me, still near to tears. 

“Yes, Miss.” 

I rejoined her on the bed, this time sitting on the side, with my feet planted on the floor. 

“Stand in front of me,” I instructed gently. 

“Yes, Miss.”

Kitty climbed off the bed and stood in front of me, miserable but obedient. 

I unbuckled her belt and pulled it through the loops with a swish. 

Setting it next to me, I unzipped her and lowered her trousers to the ground. 

I gently gripped the waistband of her underwear, and lowered them to the ground as well. 

“Step, darling”

“Yes, Miss,” Kitty replied with a curtsey before stepping out of the clothes now on the floor. 

It might have struck me as funny seeing her curtsey with her panties and trousers around her ankles, if I hadn’t felt so solemn and determined.

“Over you go.”

“Yes, Miss,” Kitty curtseyed again and lay face down across my lap. 

I stroked her backside gently, her stripes still visible but faded. 

Kitty murmured. 

I leaned down and kissed her cheeks. 

“You are a very good girl,” I straightened up.

“Thank you, Miss,” she mumbled, her head turned toward me and rested on her hands flat on the mattress. 

I lifted my hands from her cheeks, picked up her belt and folded it so I could grip the buckle and tip, forming a loop with the strap. 

“You will remember to behave,” I placed my left hand on her back and lifted my right arm to rest the belt loop over my shoulder.

“Yes, Miss.”

“Good,” I said softly. 

“I love you, Mistress.”

“I love you too, girl.”