Indigo Bloome - Destined to Feel

I shake my head to clear it from all this circular thinking — it’s entirely a waste of time to dwell on other people’s attitudes. Everyone is entitled to his or her opinion; it’s just the way in which it is shared that has me miffed.

I have a few spare minutes before my flight will be called for boarding and I become more or less incommunicado for the long flight to London, with only a short stopover in Singapore. I decide to make the most of it and take a photo of the decadence before me and send it to Jeremy as a sort of ‘thanks for my new life’ message with lots of hugs and kisses. A few sips later, my phone rings and it’s him.

‘Hi, this is a surprise.’

‘Hi, sweetheart. God, I can’t wait to see you.’ His voice is deep and sends a delightful shiver through me.

‘Hmm, likewise.’ It feels like eons since his magic hands have touched my skin.

‘I’m pleased you’re enjoying the first-class lounge.’

‘I am, but it would be far more pleasant sharing it with you.’

‘Not too long to wait now, I should be arriving in London about twelve hours after you; I’m travelling with Sam.’

‘Oh, he’s with you? That’s great.’ I can’t help but think it might be a little strange meeting Professor Samuel Webster for the first time since the experiment. He had been my PhD examiner and over time had become more like an academic father than a mentor. Over the past year or so, his research team has been focused on female sexology in the field of neuroscience, which is how he ended up connecting with Jeremy and the Global Research Forum. I shift uncomfortably at the thought of him knowing what I have done … and what I had done to me. But there’s not much I can do about it now except try to remain as professional as possible in these unusual circumstances and deep down, I know he will do the same in return. It wouldn’t bother me if I were analysing someone else’s results, so I resolve to take that approach in my mind.

‘There’s so much to catch up on, Alexa. We’ve made some astonishing advances in the last month, it’s getting really exciting.’

‘You sound excited,’ I smile. ‘I can’t wait either and I have a few questions for you too.’

‘No doubt you do, Alexa.’ His voice reverberates in my ear as my butt tingles in recognition of the meaning behind his words. Oh no, not when I’m on the phone, how would I explain that? I need to focus on something else to distract the flow of memories and their physical effects once again disabling me in public.

‘I haven’t received any documents yet, Jeremy. Should I have? I want to be as prepared as possible when I arrive.’

‘No, nothing yet, I’d rather go through everything with you in person. Just relax and enjoy your time. You’ll be busy enough when you get here, I promise you.’

I hear my flight being called for boarding.

‘Have to go, they’re calling my flight so I’d better get moving.’

‘No worries, AB. It’s great to hear your voice.’

‘I can’t wait to see you again, Jeremy, it feels like forever.’ Warmth floods my groin.

‘I know, sweetheart … well, not long now. You’re still wearing the bracelet?’

‘Of course.’ It’s not like I can take it off. I glance down at the silver bracelet embedded with pink diamonds and fitted with a GPS chip encircling my wrist.

‘Good, I love knowing where you are.’ I roll my eyes but he can’t see me.

‘Maybe you should get one made for yourself so I can keep track of you and your jetsetting lifestyle.’

‘I hadn’t thought of that, we’ll see.’ He chuckles, then adds seriously, ‘Far more important that I know you’re safe and secure.’ Back in protective mode, which I have to admit makes me feel rather cherished.

‘Love you, gotta go, final call.’

‘Okay.’ He sounds reluctant to finish the call, as am I. ‘See you tomorrow night and promise me you’ll keep out of trouble.’

‘When do I ever get into any trouble, unless I’m with you?’

‘Alex!’ he admonishes me and then quickly adds, ‘Love you, too.’ I sense his smile all those miles away. ‘Later, sweetheart. Stay safe.’ And he’s gone. I stare at the phone as if in a daze before the final, final boarding call distracts me from my reverie. Unfortunately, with changes in time zones and my increasingly urgent carnal desires for the man I love, tomorrow night is a very long way away.

* * *

I am waiting on the tarmac for takeoff. I would never have thought in a million years this could be happening to me. I feel like I am steadily becoming the person I was always meant to be. I am so excited about seeing Jeremy again that I can barely contain myself as I shuffle around in my seat absorbing all the additional features of first-class. I almost feel like I did when I went on my first 747 when I was seven years old and flying to Disneyland to meet Donald and Daisy Duck — for completely different reasons, of course. Naturally, this is the adults-only version of such unfettered anticipation. The butterflies in my stomach are still there, just like before I met Jeremy in Sydney, but this time they are big and colourful and I welcome their presence as they let me know I’m vital and alive, more than I have felt for years. I finally settle in as we take off for the long journey ahead.

When I arrive in Singapore I switch on my phone to send a quick text message to the kids. I can’t help but smile when I see that I’ve already received one from them with a photo, all ready for bed in their pyjamas and blowing me a kiss goodnight. My heart swells with love for them, I want to kiss the screen. I take the opportunity to stretch my legs and take a nice long walk around the ever-clean and organised Changi Airport before having a quick freshen up in the first-class lounge. I look longingly at the smooth, curved showers with their giant, rainwater showerheads, but unfortunately I don’t have enough time to linger. As I’m facing the mirror to ensure I look respectable enough for the next leg of my journey, I notice the woman at the next mirror staring at me intently. I wonder if I’m imagining this and being a bit paranoid, when she suddenly speaks to me in a rather formal polished, French-accented voice.

‘Please excuse my staring, but are you not Dr Alexandra Blake?’

Although slightly taken aback by her intensity, I answer, ‘Yes, I am.’

‘Oh, this is wonderful.’ She visibly softens. ‘Please, allow me to introduce myself. I am Lauren Bertrand.’

She is immaculately coiffed, as only the French can be, dressed in a smart suit, matching pumps and handbag. She is an impressive-looking woman, a small powerhouse.

‘Oh, hello.’ We shake hands and it takes me a moment to search my memory for where I have heard her name before until it dawns on me that she is a member of Jeremy’s research forum. Ah yes, Doctor Lauren Bertrand. If I remember correctly I think her speciality is chemistry.

‘I work with Dr Quinn. It is so nice to meet you, welcome to the team.’ Her smile appears friendly but remains professional.

‘Of course, lovely to meet you too. Thank you.’

‘Are you on your way to London?’

‘Yes, my flight leaves shortly. Are you?’

‘I’m heading to Brussels for a meeting and then home to Paris for a few days before meeting up with the team in London. The research Jeremy sent through recently is intriguing on so many fronts. I am very much looking forward to our forum and working with you more directly. Such surprising, fascinating results …’ Her eyes drift over my body and she seems lost in thought for a brief moment. I redden at her appraisal and wonder exactly which results are surprising her so much. How come she has received them as part of the forum, and why haven’t I received anything? I can’t help but flush with embarrassment and disappointment at the thought of being on the other side of the experiment without any of the analysis to critique and review. I wonder if any of my clients ever felt like this during our sessions. Quite possibly.