Heather's Busy Week Pt. 03

By Limey Lady

Deliberately avoiding lovey-dovey relationships, Heather’s spell at university has been enjoyable indeed. Of course it helps that her looks and to-die-for body attract lusty admiration from nearly everyone she ever meets.

Now, late April, she is into the final term of her three year course. She is about to be awarded a coveted “starred first” and believes she is highly experienced in every bedroom game ever invented; highly experienced and almost (but not quite) sated. If it wasn’t for her overactive libido, she might even consider having a couple of months of celibacy, to further her final revision.

Unfortunately, as well as being blessed with a huge libido, Heather is also blessed with the ability to get into pickles and scrapes. In fact she can be a bit of a Jonah. So far she’s usually managed to keep bad luck out of her undergraduate carrying ons. But she’s not to know what lies in wait for her over the next seven days.

During the busiest week of her life, Heather finds herself confronting drug dealers and undergoing police interrogation. She also finds time to take seven different lovers, all of them more than just once, some of them on multiple occasions.

• Language: English
• Publisher: Limey Lady
• Release date: Jul 7, 2016
• ISBN: 9781311802439

Limey Lady

Here's a confession for you: I'm not sure if "Limey Lady" is a pseudonym or my alter ego. Back in 2016, when she came into being, she was definitely a nom de plume. Now, however, I am not so sure.As background, I have always written stories but, up to 2009, writing took a backseat, way behind the demands of my family and career. Then a life-changing medical condition . . . well, it changed everything for and about me. Suddenly I had/have time to spare. Suddenly I was/am churning out tale after tale.I was born in York but brought up in West Yorkshire, in part of the Aire Valley often described as "Bronte Country". I must say, though, that although most of my stories are set locally, they have little in common with the fine works of Charlotte, Emily and Anne. So far my output can be divided into two: long stories featuring ne'er-do-wells, guns and some violence . . . and shorter stories featuring "liberated" women who rarely do what they're supposed to do.Limey Lady was created to be the author of the short stuff. But the longer novels all include feisty, uncooperative females - much like her characters - so I'm going to put her name to both as I publish on Smashwords.Watch this space . . .

Book preview

Heather’s Busy Week Pt. 03

By LimeyLady

Copyright M C Woolridge (writing as LimeyLady), 2016

Distributed by Smashwords

All characters and events in this publication,

other than those clearly in the public domain,

are fictitious. Any resemblance to actual persons,

living or dead, is purely coincidental.

Table of Contents

Chapter Five - Alex’s confession

Chapter Six - Carrie’s overdose

Author’s note

Other books by LimeyLady

CHAPTER FIVE

(Saturday, 20th April 2002)

‘It was Carrie.'

Heather stared at her equally naked companion on Rita’s settee, unblinking. 'What was Carrie? Your subconscious trigger? Or was she your tutor?'

Alex gulped, wondering why he was confiding in this black-haired beauty when he hardly knew her. 'Both,' he murmured.

Heather's reaction surprised him. She didn't scream, laugh or dive out of the window. Instead she squeezed his hand and got to her feet. 'Wait here,' she said. 'This calls for chilled Pinot.'

He watched her pad into the kitchen and return with two bottles, one of them half-empty. Even then, nervous and embarrassed as he was, he found himself admiring both views, front and back. The girl was sheer perfection.

‘I've never told this to anyone,' he began as she refilled their glasses.

‘I bet you haven't. And before you go any further, let me give you my solemn vow. I will never, ever breathe a word to anyone. Not even Rita. I’m taking it she doesn’t know.'

‘As I said, I haven’t told anyone. Rita doesn’t have a clue.’

‘Then she’ll hear nothing from me.’

‘You're not disgusted or outraged?'

‘No, I'm intrigued. Go on, tell me more.'

*****

On the face of it Ingrid and Rachael were unlikely friends. Ingrid had been born in London but had a Swedish mother. She was tall with hair so blonde it was almost white and eyes as blue as a fjord. She was also as straight as a die. Always had been.

Well . . . maybe she was an incy, wincy bit curious.

Rachael was petite and punky with Mohican-like blue hair. She wore dozens of bangles and had plenty of visible piercings, with probably loads more under her loose-fitting, vivid yellow NEVER MIND THE BOLLOCKS T-shirt and torn jeans. Most of her visible flesh was tattooed in one way or another. She wasn’t at all straight and shouted so from the rooftops.

Appearances and tastes aside, the two girls had known each for other nearly all of their lives. Without being particularly friends, they had gone to the same schools and moved in roughly the same social circles. After A-levels there’d been little reason to see each other and Ingrid had forgotten all about Rachael. Then, one night in the Union Bar, her drinking partner had nudged her. ‘Look at those two. Get a room or what!’

Ingrid hadn’t been surprised to see two girls snogging. Neither had anyone else; not in there. It was the passion that had drawn the comment, not the gender of the young lovers. ‘Bucket of water time,’ she’d agreed. Then gasped.

Up until that moment she hadn’t known Rachael was at the same university. And, although she’d had her suspicions, she hadn’t known the girl was a lesbian. Not for sure.

Rachael must have realized she was being stared at; she rounded on them angrily. Then her eyes widened. ‘Ingrid!’ she’d cried, grinning broadly. ‘Fancy seeing you here!’

It transpired that Rachael wasn’t just out, she was in the process of taking over the world. By then, just a month into her first term, she’d launched her very own Girls’ Society. Members didn’t have to be lesbian or bisexual, she explained, but it certainly helped. Her concept had been to create an organization that stuck up for women’s rights . . . with everyone having a good time while they did it. Now, two and a half years later, the Girls’ Society had grown into a powerful force. Membership was such that a petition for any deserving cause was guaranteed at least fifty signatures on the morning of issue. And, if the Girls’ Society backed a cause, LGBT were sure to follow. Given Rachael’s support, a petitioner nearly always won her fight.

Ingrid had become one of the few straight members. She’d also become Rachael’s closest friend; much closer than she’d ever been in their schooldays. Secretly, Ingrid was thrilled by the idea of women having sex with women. She found that very sexy indeed. But, although she often went out on dates with Rachael (and although she knew she was widely known as Rache’s bit on the side), she had always maintained she was too much of a scaredy-cat to ever do anything lezzie.

Well, nearly always.

Today, the twentieth of April, was Rachael’s twenty-first birthday. Ingrid had almost missed it, what with birthdays being ten-a-penny amongst students. In fact, if Rachael had had anything to do with it, everybody would have missed it. Ingrid had only remembered as recently as last Monday. Not a little peeved, of the opinion it was an occasion to be celebrated, she’d made a call, wanting to know where the party was and why she hadn’t been invited.

‘Not having one,’ Rachael had replied.

‘But