CLEANER II: Chapter One - Part Seven

Happy New Year to all FinnFans! 


DAHLIA

  

Melissa was the one to hail the cab, leading me to the edge of the road. I went after her, looking at the blond curls flowing down from her head, mildly dazed. What I was seeing wasn’t reality as I knew it; it really wasn’t. When I stopped at the curb, my own newly darkened hair swung into view and the glimpse of it made me jump.

This wasn’t right. None of it was.

Melissa raised her arm, trying to flag down a taxi. One went by without stopping and she turned to me, throwing her eyes to the heavens in a comradely way as though we were just two friends on holiday together – as though this preposterous and faintly sick exchange wasn’t actually taking place. The little smile she gave me before she turned away again disturbed me more than any part of this; it was so weightless; detached from the potency of what was happening to us right now.

I reached for her to touch her back and turn her round; to tell her that maybe we should slow things down a little; have a night or two just to get used to the hair change before we rushed on to the next part; but as I did so she stepped away, calling, “Taxi!” more urgently as one slowed and pulled up.

I looked at it dopily, telling myself I should still say something but unable to somehow now that it was there and she was opening the door. Melissa climbed in awkwardly, struggling with her bulk and, not knowing what else to do, I climbed in after her, noticing the unfamiliar pinch and lack of flexibility my rounder tummy gave me. Standing up it wasn’t noticeable to me, but sitting or bending accentuated the extra mass, making it undeniably apparent.

I closed the door after us and Melissa gave the driver the directions then threw me a smile. Her face was radiant, her eyes imbued with their own shimmer of delight. Again, I opened my mouth to say something, and her eyes flickered down to my lips, sensing it; maybe even sensing the intent of what I might say. She spoke immediately, but the word seemed only a holding device, to fill the gap between us while her mind floundered to find something of substance to say.

“So...”

I closed my own mouth, my own side of the potential dialogue stymied. The thoughts in my head were so fractious, the drive to voice them was flimsy; barely enough push to get it moving. I was confused and very unsure of my ability to make a decision either way. It wasn’t that I didn’t want to go through with it suddenly. I did. I just had my doubts. Those doubts weren’t enough to make me stop it with any great passion. I was just as likely to go with the flow as long as Melissa kept driving.

And Melissa kept on driving on as though she was the one who wanted it, not me.

We pulled up at the hotel and there was an odd moment of still expectation that bewildered me until I realised it was because Melissa and the driver were waiting for me to pay. I was the one in the fancy clothes. I was the one with the money. Flustered, I handed the man probably more than he was asking for and we got out.

Again I felt as though I was only following as Melissa walked up to the doors and went inside. Is this what it will feel like when our roles are reversed, I thought, when I... become... Melissa?

And do I really want that?

Melissa pressed the button for the lift and we waited painstakingly. She must have sensed the silence between us now – she must have – and I wondered if this wasn’t another element of the transformation, as our sense of status and identity shifted. We had been close to being equals of a sort since our decision to do this had come; during the journey here to Greece. Soon that wouldn’t strictly be true anymore and neither of us could know how that would feel – not over an extended period.

The lift arrived and we went inside. Melissa looked like she was going to speak but a family entered after us, effectively gagging her. Instead she looked at me, holding my gaze, and I looked back.

Could she the fear in me as clearly as I could see the verve in her?

I had thought her a reluctant participant on the whole, but the closer we got, the more her inhibitions seemed to dissolve. For some reason that unsettled me more.

Why was I so afraid? This was what I wanted.

It was what I wanted.

I bumped into Melissa when we reached my hotel room door. I had been so caught up in myself on the way from the lifts. She raised her eyebrows, reminding me to fumble the key out of my handbag. My new hair swung again in front of my face and this time I almost yelped. I felt petrified and actually cold, despite the general temperature. It was cooler in the hotel than it was outside but I felt chilled to my organs.

For the first time on our return journey, I led the way inside. The cases were laid on a table near the window. I approached them tentatively. Of the cases, most of the bulk was taken up with the new clothes we would both wear. There had never been an intention for me to need more than one or two day’s worth of clothing for my true identity. I stood in front of the nearest case and looked back at Melissa, then I looked back at the case.

I looked back at her. She was looking only at the suitcase, her eyes blazing again with disconcerting expectation. Then those eyes flicked up to mine and she said, “Open it.”