Chapter 3 - Christmas

Christmas 2069 is approaching and retailers are in the midst of the greatest spending frenzy for decades. 

Elsewhere, many customers will expend their entire available credit and have even accumulated credit from earlier in the year to allow for this annual celebratory splurge. Much of it will be expended on personal services, personal wellbeing, exercise, entertainment and of course, religious practice and many will exchange gifts of credit towards these services with friends and loved ones.

Unlike many other retail establishments in the world at this time of year, Bergeroff Goodman is not packed with bogan shoppers. This store is very up-market.

Margery's been advising Bianca on 'power dressing' and suggested that they come to Bergeroff Goodman, during their lunch break, to get Bianca something more appropriate to wear to the office. She's been encouraging Bianca to buy a top-quality black wool and mohair suit with a knee length skirt, similar to the one Margery is wearing.  Bianca had been resisting and equivocating when the call of nature gratuitously cut short their struggle. The older woman had assumed Bianca's resistance was for financial reasons, insisting that a good suit is not an extravagance but an investment in Bianca's future.

The real reason Bianca had been resisting has nothing to do with waiting for the sales, as Margery had implied, insisting that the sales are for unloading second quality or over-stocked goods, it's that she doesn't want to be seen to be imitating Margery. The women are of similar build, both a little taller than average and slim to medium. In a similar suit Bianca would look too much like Margery's clone, albeit with reddish-blonde hair.

Margery's age is obscure; but she could be as much as twenty years older than Bianca who's almost twenty-two. She has a somewhat angular face with a long straight nose and a good figure. She looks fit and is always impeccably groomed, with helmet of lustrous dark straight hair cut off in line with her collar bone. She has a preference for scarlet lipstick and coal-black suits over thin silk blouses and silk camisoles, under which she seldom wears a brassiere. Men obviously, find her attractive.

This is Bianca's first real job after university and although she's not formally Bianca's supervisor Margery has been 'showing her the ropes'; taking the new girl, Bianca, under her wing. For her part Bianca is aware that she is no longer in the familiar predictable world of family and scholarship. Like Bilbo Baggins she's left The Shire. Now she is out in the big bad world of business, politics, complex personal interactions and hidden motivations. What better guide and instructor than Margery could there be?

Margery's Curriculum Vitae says that she's a top representative in Information Technology Marketing, having represented some of the biggest names in the industry. And that she has both private and government experience. All certainly true, she's well known 'around the traps' with a reputation as someone who shouldn't be crossed.

Bianca has already been warned against Margery twice: once by women who followed her into the toilet and spoke in an urgent whisper and then by a man from another Division, who came and sat next to her in the coffee shop and acted like a secret agent from an old movie.

After that, Bianca decided to ask around a little and make a brief search in The Cloud. Several people were reluctant to talk about Margery, one of whom dismissed her as 'that witch'. Others spoke of her abilities in glowing terms. It does seem that some of the detail in Margery's resume may be stretching the truth a little. Is she really a Grad? Can she write code? How well can she read or write anything without her VPA?

Bianca was told that if you tried to test Margery on any of these points she would go on the attack, questioning the interrogator's right or she'd flee, having something urgent to attend to immediately. Bianca has discovered that Margery is a self-made success who has worked her way into the world of Grads and Busies by unusual means and has consequently left a few enemies along the way.

Nevertheless, Margery is certainly a driving force in getting these things done. People will put themselves out for her. And in Margery's world, having someone to do something is the same as doing it one's self. It's not as if code writing or designing something is like painting a picture or writing poetry. Bianca now knows a lot more about Margery than Margery would be comfortable with and is reserving judgement on all that. And Margery has been nothing but helpful and charming to her.

***

While Bianca was away, Margery amused herself by trying on French knickers of the style she likes to wear, loose around the crotch with wide floppy legs. The silk ones were all so nice that she ended up taking several pairs. Her VPA, Circe, was left to sort out the necessary credit transfer with the store. This would take several microseconds, as is obviously the case with any store that Margery takes goods from. It occurred to Margery that at one time she might have had to do this negotiation herself and carry tokens or paper promissory notes once called 'money' or a cheque book. Circe keeps a close watch on her credit, as Margery likes expensive stores and is inclined to take away pretty things that take her fancy; but may exceed her means.

When Bianca reappeared, excited to recount her adventure at Jackie O's, she was jealous. She would love to have seen the society woman's apartment and picked up some clues about how the upper-crust lived.

Then the girl had told her about her silly air-toilet idea and she'd automatically poo-pooed it. But Bianca had defended her idea, saying that the perfect App was one that married a need, to a means of satisfying that need; especially when neither party was previously aware of, or had a way of, satisfying the other.

She viewed Bianca as her disciple, so any idea that Bianca had was, obviously, inspired by her mentor. She started to warm to 'her' idea. So, she relented and said that: if Bianca really wanted to waste her time on it, she should not try to code it herself but hire a professional developer.

Bianca foolishly claimed that she was perfectly capable of writing the code. As if she could! But the truth had come out when Bianca kept rejecting the expensive suits at Bergeroff Goodman. It was obvious that she hadn't the credit to hire someone who could do it properly.

"You don't have to pay for someone just to write code," Margery had insisted. "Who's the best of those strange developer creatures on Level 20?"

Bianca said that was easy: "Mohandas is the best developer and a nice young man. He has a very interesting background." She started to explain that he'd been named after Ghandi, a man who'd been revered in India before the Great Famine. And this Mohandas was said to be an Indian Prince, the son of a maharaja from the old area of Rajasthan; and in what used to be India, where maharajas are still thought of as gods by their remaining subjects.

"Let's go to their Christmas party on Wednesday and I'll show you how to have your little Prince do it free," Margery interrupted.

Bianca was equivocal. She told Margery that she would prefer to write it herself, because anything Mohandas wrote would legally belong to the company, whereas she wasn't employed as a developer.

But now Margery was determined to teach her something. The more Bianca resisted the more Margery insisted. Like that 'assertive' woman in that old vidi: Devil Wears Prada, she was grooming Bianca to follow in her footsteps. Margery needed the younger woman to: look up to her; to admire her evident superiority; and to take her lead.

The moment Bianca had arrived in the enterprise to start her first real job two months ago, Margery had introduced herself and began trying to mentor her: telling her that she needed to be more assertive; to always pretend to know more than you do; to smile knowingly and flounce away rather than give an answer you are unsure of; to power dress - in up-market designer brands; never to admit to getting a bargain when it comes to clothes or accessories; and so on.

"It's OK to use subtle 'enhancement' surgery like nose or boob jobs," she'd told her. "It's still 'sort of legal' provided it won't extend your life. Do you like mine?  No bra." She took off her jacket and twirled. Bianca could see the impression of her nipples through the fine silk of her creamy camisole. "Bogans do it all the time. None of them look vaguely like they did a year ago. I know a clinic. But never get them too big, only Bogans do that. A Roman, or is it Greek, Venus is the ideal?  And never have a body modification that makes you look submissive, like wearing a nose ring; or having a tattoo of a man's name. Men need to be kept in awe of you."

Now she was going to the Developers' party, whether Bianca was coming or not. So Bianca had decided to go too, just to keep an eye on her.

***

"Watch this carefully," Margery told Bianca, as she shed her knickers in the Ladies toilet before the party. "This is why you should always wear stockings and a garter belt under a skirt - never wear pantyhose. And I always call it my garter belt; never suspenders. That sounds too cheap. My underwear is always luxurious."

"Now, which one is he?"

Minutes later she'd manoeuvred Mohandas to a suitable table and was staring intensely into his eyes, asking about coding. Step two was to take his hand in an expression of admiration of his skills and a sincere desire for his friendship. Step three was to place his hand on her knee under the table. At that point he would either pull away or go with the flow, depending on his sexual preference and other entanglements. If he pulled away, she'd simply move on through the ranks of developers, until she found one who'd play along.

But Mohandas couldn't believe his luck. Once she'd got him over that hurdle, it was time for the gentle wrist pull, past the top of her stocking, all the way up.

In her mind, Margery had passed the third verse of the old song:  'Now it's number three and his hand is on my knee… Roll me over in the clover, lay me down and do it again….' Number four would inevitably follow.

In her heels Margery was nearly a head taller than Mohandas. As they stood Margery demurely straightened the little black party dress, that she'd changed into for the occasion. She smoothed it down the front suggestively, smiling across the room, artificially, for Bianca's benefit and saw Bianca's mouth drop open in amazement, as she and Mohandas left the party together.

"This is her first real demonstration of the craft of seduction," Margery thought with pleasure. "She'll give up those dreadful pantyhose for stockings and a sexy garter belt from this evening on."

***

The next day, over lunch at their usual eatery, Bianca asked what had happened after they left.

"Are you wearing pantyhose?  I won't tell you if you're wearing pantyhose" Margery said rather bizarrely, as if someone in pantyhose was untrustworthy.

"No," said Bianca. This was not because she was following Margery's lead, as Margery thought, but because she'd never liked them. She seldom wears stockings at all.

"I don't believe you," Margery insisted.

"Well, I'm not showing you here."

"Then slip down your panties and pass them to me."

"No! Don't be ridiculous."

"Do you want to know or not?"

But it was paramount, for a number of reasons, that Bianca learnt what had transpired last night. She'd pointed him out to Margery and knew that Margery had no real interest in him, except as a conquest and a free code writer. So, after an awkward silent standoff between them, she made a quick trip to the 'Ladies' and returned with her panties, tied into a compact knot, and handed them over. Margery was triumphant.

***

"Now that's better, isn't it? A bit of air down there is liberating. You can have them back later - if you still need them."

"OK you've got what you wanted so now tell me what happened," Bianca demanded crossly.

"I took him to The Plaza Grand and made him pay for a suite."

"Is that what I gave you my pants to hear? Then what happened?"

"Then I taught him some things he won't find in the Kama Sutra," she boasted.

Of course, she'd being dying to tell someone all morning and who better than Bianca who obviously, liked the fellow, perhaps more than 'liked'. Getting Bianca to shed her knickers to hear what she'd done with him was icing on the cake.

"Where is he today?  He didn't come in," Bianca asked, revealing that she had checked and was concerned.

"I'm afraid he won't be in for some time. I haven't finished teaching him some new skills and I've got a little coding job for him."

Margery said this as if this was a business deal but smiled to herself at the look of annoyance on Bianca's face. This was delicious, the girl was obviously fond of him.

"What sort of coding job?" Bianca asked suspiciously. She didn't want to know what skills Margery was teaching him. "Is he still at The Plaza Grand?”

"No, he's at home 'sick'. I've got an idea for an App that I want him to work on. After that you can have him if you change your mind about needing a developer for your silly idea," she said.

On hearing that he'd gone home Bianca was relieved. Margery had come to work, so it couldn't be too bad. Her conscience was mollified.

"Margery, is he really sick?  I hope you're not employing him to write code. He's the firm's best developer and he shouldn't work for someone else in breach of his contract. He could get the sack."

"I'm not paying him, so he's not legally working for me. And he's terribly sick. Last night he came down with something very infectious," laughed Margery in a most suggestive way.

Bianca sat back. Margery was the 'real deal'. The thought of Mohandas falling for this older woman, who had somehow bewitched him last night, was somehow, bizarre. How had she seduced him so fast?

"Why did he leave so suddenly with you like that?" she asked.

Margery was delighted. She'd been dying to tell Bianca her secret and maybe teach her to follow in her footsteps. She watched Bianca carefully. Yes!  The girl was already jealous. This was going to be a lot of fun.

"I gave him a Christmas present."

Bianca had no idea what she was talking about. Had Margery given him her knickers?  And now Margery had hers. Could she hold them for ransom: 'If you want your panties back, do as I say'? Well, they were inexpensive cotton and quite disposable, not like the silk French knickers Margery wears. "She can keep them for all I care," she thought.

"Did you lure him to The Plaza Grand with your knickers?" she asked.

"No, of course, not. It takes a lot of training before a man is that Pavlovian. You know, like the dogs," she added, in case Bianca had not heard of Pavlovian conditioning. "Would you like me to teach Mohandas to sniff after you like a bloodhound?"

Bianca reacted just as she'd hoped. It was as if she'd hit her with a baseball bat. The battle of the knickers was already paying dividends. It was clear that Bianca was now very jealous and worried about what use she might make of her little prize.

Before Bianca could recover, she went on: "Oh dear! I do have your knickers in a knot, don't I?  A Christmas present is a St Knicker-less surprise."

The woman was being deliberately lewd and, in some way, it seemed worse, coming from the mouth of this older, apparently sophisticated, woman who otherwise might be some child's wealthy mother, sitting in this restaurant in her fine clothes and jewellery in a fog of expensive perfume. It was the sort of conversation Bianca might expect from a student contemporary who was trying to shock her. Bianca refused to react.

But then Margery surprised her by producing a beautifully wrapped parcel from Bergeroff Goodman.  "Merry Christmas," she said.

***

Bianca was amazed.

"Go on, unwrap it," Margery insisted.

Before she had removed the ribbon from the box Bianca had realised what it was. When she unfolded the tissue paper and saw the beautiful cream silk her heart leapt. They were not what she would normally have chosen for herself but they were so lovely that she declared that she was going to put them immediately. She slipped out of her shoes, put her feet through them and pulled them up over her knees. Then wiggling and leaning forward she hitched them up under her dress, right there in the eatery, as Margery watched her performance, delighted.

They felt wonderfully silky against her skin. She realised why the French liked the halfway-house of everything loose and breezy down there.

"Oh thank you Margery," she said and was genuinely grateful. She kissed her. She felt as if she was in Margery's debt. Not just because of these very expensive knickers but because she had misunderstood Margery's motives in taking her panties.

"You're welcome," said Margery, "I'll make a real-women of you yet."

Lunch was over.

The café would make the necessary credit adjustments to their accounts in this cashless economy. They each had committed to pay by the simple act of choosing this place and selecting from the menu.