Chapter 3 – The ex-agent

The bar was empty of customers when I waltzed in on that particular evening. That was okay. It would me give a few additional minutes to adapt to the oppressive climate, to harden myself and put on the mask I would wear for the duration of my working hours. I’d had the job only a couple of months but had quickly gotten used to playing the part. At age twenty-five my hair and make-up now needed more maintenance than in my teenage years so I had taken my time and spared no attention to detail getting myself ready. Awareness that I looked my best was a sure way of increasing my confidence and that in turn would help me dispense the kind of sassy charm expected of a hostess in this up-and-coming establishment.

This preoccupation with my looks was not mere vanity… well… okay it was partly vanity. I had to derive some satisfaction from all the effort I was putting into being a girl. No, it was essential to my safety to flaunt my apparent femininity at every opportunity, or so I deemed. To that end, I had no higher aim than to be accepted as one of the place’s resident femmes fatales. At first, I copied the other hostesses who effortlessly projected an aura of charm and mystery to attract hapless males. Subterfuge was the key. Hints, insinuations and unfulfilled promises soon became my stock in trade. There were ample compensations for playing this game. Though the pay was low, the tips could be generous.

This particular night the action was slow, and that didn’t suit me at all. Flitting lightly from one unfulfilled punter to another was where the real money could be made and it wasn’t happening. I’d chosen my outfit with care. The material of my little minidress was of a silvery satin and I was conscious that the way its shimmering folds clung to my breasts showed their fullness and shape to advantage. Its skirt finished well above the knee and flared subtly from my hips to emphasise the narrowness of my waist, while tending to hide the ‘womanliness’ of my butt and thighs. Attaining an hourglass figure, something I was proud to show off, had taken a lot of work. However, as I stalked the bar to the sound of my skirts brushing against my stocking-clad legs, my apparently feminine fragility was proving of little avail.

It was when I had done my round of the sprinkling of regulars in the room and was perched on a barstool contemplating my sorry lot that the gamechanger breezed in. The man was tanned, lean and athletic. He prowled with brisk lithe movements like a big cat. While a few grey strands in his neatly clipped imperial and the silvering of his hair hinted that his youth might well be behind him, he oozed vigour from every pore. It was easy to guess that an hour or two in this maverick’s company could turn into a rewarding experience in more ways than one!

“Hello handsome!” I greeted him, with a welcoming smile. “You’re a stranger here, but that can soon be changed. Sit by me, won’t you, and we can get better acquainted?”

By way of response the fellow stared at me. He simply gazed as if I were from a different planet. Perhaps he was right; sometimes I felt like I was!

“Hello” I repeated. “I’ll start by introducing myself, shall I? I’m…”

“Jennifer!” he finished my sentence for me, smiling. “Yes, I recognised you straight away. Forgive me, but I was marvelling how little you have changed. What is it? Eight years? Yes, that must be it. Eight years. A lot of water has flowed under since then.”

It was my turn to stare, and I did. I was completely nonplussed. I tried to cast my mind back that distance in time, but unsuccessfully. The period to which he alluded must have been not long after I’d started out as a photographic model. Georgie would have been about to be born just around then. My hazy recollections didn’t help me place the man.

“You have the advantage of me, sir.”

“So it seems!”

The voice sounded familiar, but…

“You have no remembrance of that little town down near the southern border where a pretty young girl braved peril to come to her country’s aid in its hour of need? Strange! You must lead an interesting life if you have forgotten those dramatic days!”

A memory stirred. I tried to latch on to it and was rewarded with the surfacing of a name.

“Guy? Guy Martinez.”

“The same. Or rather, an older version” he smirked. “And it shows!” He pointed to his head of greying locks.

“Don’t complain! That longer hairstyle suits you just fine. Let me look at you. You’ve filled out some, but that’s good. A girl likes a man to be covered!” It jarred on my consciousness to realise I had switched into the flirty manner I adopted for work without even trying. “Tramp!” I silently branded myself.

I ploughed on regardless, patting my butt and then running my hand over my thigh. “You’re not the only one who has accumulated some substance. You carry it better, I reckon.”

“I disagree” Guy contradicted archly. “From where I’m standing, I can’t imagine a shapelier figure.”

I gave a little bob in acknowledgement of the compliment but added ruefully. “Not everyone would go along with that. The modelling agency for one. Apparently, I’m too womanly for them these days. My innocent girlish looks have long since been a thing of the past.”

Though the increase in fullness of my bust ought to have made up for what it had lost in perkiness, the modelling world didn’t see things that way. That hadn’t been all of it of course. Though my photographic career was already in decline, what had also intervened had been my ill-starred decision to regain my masculinity. That had finished it, but I wasn’t going to mention it.

“You have blossomed amazingly.”

“Oh, you don’t have to say that. I’m not fishing” I assured him. “Let’s sit.”

Our tête-à-tête was interrupted while I allowed Guy to order us drinks, then I continued. “My photographic work came to an end several years back. I had to find some other way to earn a crust… which is why I work here. Altogether we get by. How about you? Are you still with the agency? Or have you moved to a different one?”

My curiosity had never been rewarded with certainty as to which government department had the benefit of the man’s talents, hence the vagueness of my questioning. It was to remain unfulfilled now.

He shook his head. “No, I too have moved on. I work for myself. I’m…”

“Let me guess! I reckon… you’re… you’re a private eye. Am I wrong?”

Guy laughed out loud. “That’s what they’re called in books. I prefer the term ‘special investigator’. It sounds much more professional.”

“You mean, I was right? You are a detective? That’s crazy!”

He only smiled.

“Actually, no. It’s not crazy at all. You have the ideal qualifications... and experience. Where are you based?”

The ex-government man mentioned a city an hour’s drive away from this one.

“Tell me. Do you have an attractive assistant who does all the running around, while you sit in the office and give her misleading instructions?”

He grinned ruefully at my jibe. “That’s right! I reckoned we made a good team, eight years ago.”

“Really?” To my recollection, the mocking job description that I had just given him bore too much a resemblance to the actual role I’d played back then for comfort. I was less than sure it would bear repeating.

“That’s what I came to see you about. I need that assistant, and one with your special qualities, I might add.”

I knew exactly what he meant by ‘special’. My dual identity had been no secret from the man.

“You mean, you knew I worked here?” I blurted, wondering how it had been that I was so easy to find. Hopefully it was my female persona he had tracked down and not the male one lurking beneath. The risk that the connection between the two might be exposed would be of the utmost significance, but why didn’t the doubt he had raised worry me more? Well, somewhat illogically, just to hear Guy’s voice brought a measure of reassurance. I felt safer just then than I had for weeks.

“This job of yours” he went on. “How much free time does it leave you?”

“Not much. I had high hopes. At college, you may remember, I got a qualification in skin therapy, and I wanted to make good use of it, but life hasn’t worked out that way.”

It seemed only proper to retain some vestige of a private life, so I failed to draw attention to my fugitive status. I continued airily “I’m at the bottom of the food chain. The pay here is hopeless, but the patrons seem to like me, the male ones, that is, and we have some laughs.”

“I can imagine.” The investigator’s eyes ran over my bodily attributes, causing me some embarrassment. My hard-boiled act seemed to have worn a little thin in the presence of this visitor from my former life.

“So, how about it, Jennifer? Abandon this vocation to bring excitement into the lives of sad little men to others less well-endowed than yourself... in subtle skills, I mean. Whatever you earn now, I’ll double it if you’ll come and work for me.”

He made the deal sound very attractive. On the plus side, it might offer more fulfilment than my present mundane duties and I could certainly use the money, but mostly, I would feel a lot less vulnerable at the side of someone like Guy.

“I’ll have to think about it. How can I let you know?”

“Don’t take too long to decide. I’ll contact you.” He stood up and drained his glass. With an abrupt “Be seeing you!” he was gone, providing me with a vivid reminder of the exasperating man’s penchant for unnecessary mystery.

It figured. That was Guy all over!

Two full days elapsed before I had the chance to discuss the offer with Rachel. We had to keep secret any connection between us for safety’s sake and that made communication difficult. We had been living apart ever since I’d entered witness protection and to all appearances had gone our separate ways. With the avowed intention of exploring her inner self, she had joined a well-known hippie commune in the mid-West, taking Georgie with her. In the previous year the nation had celebrated the Summer of Love, which I had spent alone. I didn’t notice the paradox at the time!

In a mood of practicality, we’d agreed that we would remain married but would be free to seek other relationships, until we could be together again. That was a decision I was to regret whenever I felt vulnerable or isolated and that was quite often. How I hated being practical at those times! Continuing apart was a sad state of affairs but we could see no other way forward.

Now I’d been presented with Guy’s offer of more meaningful employment I grabbed at it with both hands. On top of the offer of escape from my fruitless existence, I desperately needed some kind of companionship and this opportunity to work with someone I both knew and trusted threw me a lifeline I wasn’t going to let slip. The glamorous life of a special investigator’s assistant which beckoned seemed an ideal alternative to my present hand to mouth existence.

I was unsure whether my role was going to be as a Miss Lemon or a Dr Watson but either way, I was up for it!