|Home||Links||Stories||More||Casters Club Forums|
Audrey - Shopping
|Rating:; Genre=Non-fiction; Pages=6; Characters=11,967;|
My true story looks good on your site here is the next episode.
Audrey and her husband are friends of my wife and I. We meet occasionally and she freely admits her experience with me helped her to sort her life out. She sorted mine. That was over 35 years ago and since then she has run a very successful business, employs many people, and they have raised a wonderful family.
Audrey - Shopping
The following day dragged though I had not really got started. My mind was on the previous days meeting and I just could not believe my luck.
At morning break I headed to the telephone and rang the number listed under her fathers address in the 'phone book. A well-spoken lady answered and I asked if I might speak to Audrey. Moments later her now familiar voice come over the 'phone and I asked if the date was still on. "Yes - at what time and where?" she asked. "Shall I pick you up at your house at 1pm?" I replied. "Yes please." she said.
I drove into her drive five minutes early and parked by a white Citroen near the door. I locked my car and with heart thumping with anticipation walked up to the imposing entrance. As I reached for the bell push the door swung open and Audrey was framed in the doorway. "Would you like to come in whilst I get my coat?" she asked.
I stepped through and followed her as she limped across the carpeted hallway to the cloakroom. My eye took in every detail. She was wearing another unflattering long skirt and a cardigan that was practical. Today her boot and shoe were black and her calliper was polished aluminium with black straps and fittings. Somehow the drabness of the way she dressed seem to accentuate the beauty of her face and character. She reached up to the rail and lifting her coat down deftly slipped her arms into the sleeves, closed the door and walked back saying "Right, where shall we go?" "Shall we get in the car and then decide?" I replied. "Do you mind if we go in my car?" She said "I can get in and out easier." "Of course." was the only reply I could think of so she headed toward the door with me holding it open.
Sure enough, she limped purposefully to the Citroen, her calliper and boot still creaking, and unlocking the driver's door with her key and opened the door. With one almost fluid motion, born of much practice, she bent down and unlocked the catches on her brace and having positioned herself before-hand sat down on the edge of the seat. All she had to do then was lift her callipered bent leg in with her right hand under the bars followed by her right.
Remembering her difficulty getting into my car I understood why she wanted to use hers but I like contact sports and mine was more fun. My thoughts must have registered on my face because when I got into the seat next to her she took hold of my hand and said "You look sad - are you regretting taking me out already?" "No." I replied I just enjoyed helping you yesterday. Come on now where shall we go?"
"Would you help me to choose some new clothes and I will buy you lunch?" she said. "Great idea - let's have lunch first and we can explore your ideas." She started the engine and engaging drive on the automatic gearbox we swished out onto the road. Despite the leg iron that I could still clearly see outlined under her skirt, and the surgical boot with its 4 inch thick sole that encased her foot, this girl was no longer handicapped. She drove the car like a professional quickly but smoothly and far better than I could. I was impressed. She concentrated on her driving and I concentrated on her and was enjoying myself.
We had chosen to have lunch in a pub near to the river and she stopped the car in the car park which surprised me as it left a fair walk to the entrance. "I liked the feel of your arm in mine yesterday, and if I park next to the door I shall miss that". I was round to her door in seconds and holding it open I marvelled at the smooth way she swung round on the seat and manuevered her left leg with her right hand whilst steadying herself with the handhold above the door.
With both feet out on the ground she then held onto the handhold whilst taking her weight on her right leg and snapped her calliper locked with a push on her knee. She straightened up and got her balance and taking my arm said, "Lets eat."
Over an excellent lunch I discovered despite being 22 years old she had never had a date or boyfriend before and she was thrilled about the whole thing. "I was quite convinced until meeting you yesterday, that I was not attractive to men because of my leg iron and would have to be content with my cats, my work and my music. You might be with me because you feel sorry for me but I don't care I'm enjoying the experience whilst it lasts." How sad, a beautiful person in every sense of the word with everything going for her looks, money, intelligence but resigned to the reject box.
She worked as an accountant in one of her fathers companies and had a lively and intuitive mind. We spent a considerable time discussing how, as she saw it, she had two handicaps: -
One, the paralysis in her left leg, that meant she could barely wriggle her toes and could not move her foot or lift it off the ground, yet it had full sensation. With the brace off she had to use elbow crutches or a wheelchair or crawl on her hands and knees. If she was using crutches her left leg was 4 inches shorter than her right and just hung with her toes pointing to the floor. As she described it, "when I am using my crutches around the house, my left leg looks like and is about as much use as a string of sausages".
Two, the way people treated her, spoke to her, followed her, stared and at times were downright rude was by far the worst handicap.
Knowing I could do nothing about the paralysis I was determined to do what I could about the attitudes to disabled people.
After lunch we had a pleasant walk down by the river. Audrey had to be careful because of the uneven ground and had one or two occasions when she got close to falling, I learned that day how hard it is for someone with just one calliper to stay on their feet. How those with two on manage I have no idea, but they do. One particular rough patch was crossing a dried up ditch as we took a short cut back to the car. I was standing in front facing her with her arms on my shoulders and my hands round her waist and she slipped and sank to the grass with me guiding her down.
The grass was clean and green and as I bent down to help her up I noticed we were now hidden in the hollow. So I stretched out next to her as she sat laughing on the ground. "What about the shopping?" I said. "The shops will be there tomorrow but I shall be working." she replied. I placed my hand under her down-turned chin and asked, "May I kiss you?" Without answering she brought her lips to mine and we embraced rather awkwardly but with great pleasure. "How long will it take you to fetch the cushions and travel rug out of my car?" she said handing me her keys. "Two minutes." was my reply "start counting." Well within the two minutes I was back spreading the rug on the bank so it faced the autumn sun and with the cushions we were in heaven.
I lay there on her left side with her eyes closed and her head on a cushion and my right arm. Her calliper pressed hard against my thigh and knee as we kissed but with the sunshine and the bees buzzing I was not complaining. Her skirt had ridden up when she first sat down and had moved even higher as she had change position during our encounters between conversation. Consequently her skirt was now well above her knee and her other knee was slightly raised revealing her calliper.
Her black boot had a T strap stitched to the left side. Another strap was just above it passing round her ankle and both the irons preventing them from coming out. At the back of her heel another strap was pushing her foot forward so the metal stops in her heel fitting were pressed against the irons preventing any movement of her foot.
Round her tan nylon clad calf a 2 inch wide black strap was fastened with a metal buckle. A metal band that was riveted to the aluminium sidebars of her brace reinforced this strap. The knee strap was about 5 inches wide and was fastened to the to her brace with straps and buckles. Above her knee was another 2 inch wide metal reinforced strap held by a buckle. As she lay there quietly drifting I could see how the leather straps firmly held her whole leg rigid.
"Please don't look at it." the pleading in her voice cut right through my reverie. My attention swung back to her face to see tears welling up in her eyes. Audrey sat up with difficulty and tugged her skirt down below her knees. The she started to struggle to get up, the tears now stating to flow. "Please don't be upset." I was drifting and not aware I was staring. "But it is ugly and I would give anything not to have to wear it." she cried, "Please take me home."
At this I got to my feet and helped her up onto hers with some difficulty. Once she was standing I put my arms around her and despite her resistance said "It is not ugly and I am pleased you are wearing it because it means you can get back to the car without me carrying you."
We walked back to her car and I offered to drive because she was still upset. Audrey needed my help to get into the passenger seat and this again brought the same contact as yesterday. Once seated I turned to her and again begged forgiveness for having upset her and she replied "No it's me I have to come to terms with myself."
By now she was much more composed and I suggested rather than go back to her home we should continue with our original intention to look at some clothes. She ageed dried her eyes on my handkerchief and fastened her seatbelt.
The Citroen was smooth and powerful and a dream to drive. As we waited at traffic lights I glanced across and Audrey was sitting relaxed gazing out of the window. I put my hand out and stroked her cheek and said "You are beautiful - all of you." Now it was her turn to look surprised and she leaned over and kissed me on my lips. When I looked back at the lights they were green and we arrived at the shopping centre moments later.
Opening her door I helped her out and we walked into the first of the clothes shops. First purchase was a skirt. As expected Audrey was looking at long skirts, I referred to them as curtains, and I suggested that for me as an experiment she should just try an above-knee length dark blue skirt with matching fitted jacket-a power suit. We decided the blouse she was wearing would serve to try the suit on and I carried it over to the changing room and hung it on the rail.
Within minutes she stepped out transformed. Now her excellent figure and features were set off by these smart well cut garments instead of being shrouded. Her calliper was now exposed to above the knee and legs were still shapely and I found them attractive. The shop assistant was impressed by the change and was sincere in her compliments. Audrey stepped in front of the cheval mirror and turned to various angles to look at her self. She kept looking down at her legs and eventually turned to me and said "But it looks so ugly." The assistant had returned to the sales counter and I replied "It is part of you and you are beautiful - please buy it." The fit was perfect and rather than change I suggested the assistant removed the labels and bag her original clothes.
Having paid for the garments we spent the next hour making similar purchases of dresses skirts and blouses all chosen to show off her attributes rather than cover them.
By now we were both ready for refreshment so we returned to her car and she drove us back to her house.
As we turned into the drive she was once again smiling and she said "Thank you for a lovely day, please stay for dinner."
You must be logged in to view this content.
See the Home Page for more information.