First: Sensual Lesbian Stories of New Beginnings by Cheyenne Blue

Author:Cheyenne Blue [Blue, Cheyenne]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Publisher: Ladylit Publishing

THAT SUMMER

VANESSA DE SADE

It was a hot, dry, sultry summer. A summer like no other. Aladdin Sane was in the charts, Britain was now in the Common Market, Greece became a Republic, and General Pinochet staged a coup against the democratically elected government of Chile. And, released from the parental leash for the first time, I met Mary. Mary, Mary, quite contrary. Such a plain and commonplace name for the person who turned my humdrum life around and taught me how to feel.

However, I’m getting ahead of myself…

I did not come from an ordinary household. My parents were both Party members and vocal critics of the reigning Conservative Heath government as people were back then. It was before the ease of on-line forums and one-click petitions, and they shouted their indignation on the streets with other pipe-smoking men in duffle coats, and longhaired women in Afghans and Bri-Nylon polo neck sweaters. My father was a teacher, hard working if a bit disheveled in his flared blue denims and green corduroy jacket. He risked instant dismissal to trundle out socialist leaflets on the school Banda duplicator in the murky chalk-dust hours of the early evening. My mother, an operating theater nurse, worked grueling shifts and came home bloody in the gray dawn-light of the small hours. Sometimes, she yearned for a life where she could just sit back and watch The Sound of Music and gossip with her friends, but was furiously angry at the same time as she choked back her indignation on an almost daily basis at the male-dominated infrastructure of the health service.

Then there was me. Angela Lenin Scott. (Seriously.) Born 3 August 1954. Girl. Only child and brutally neglected by my parents for the sake of the greater good. Imaginative, creative and incredibly smart. Living a fantasy life with my Sindy doll where my parents were dead—usually from a fatal road accident but sometimes nuclear holocaust—and where we both dressed in clothes from Chelsea Girl and traveled the world in a converted double-decker bus. I was a Leo according to the Zodiac. “Original, imposing, inflexible, motivated, ambitious, loyal, physical, charitable, and majestic.” Or so the teenage magazines that I was forbidden to buy would have told me if I’d ever sneaked a peak.

Poetry should have been my passion, novels my very lifeblood, but the road to the arts was a rocky one in my household and paved with insurmountable obstacles. My father was a chemistry teacher, and had already mapped out a career in law for me, righting society’s wrongs, and being the advocate of the masses, the voice of the disenfranchised. Or something like that, I forget the precise rhetoric. I had already read the hefty three-volume biography of Karl Marx on the dining room bookshelf by the time I was eleven, Das Kapital before I was even twelve. I devoured my parent’s book of the month choices from the Left Book Club until the subscription ran out, mainly dull as dishwater political treatises within their

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