WOMAN HOT SEX

A lovely girl

A Rotten Night’s Sleep

A Shocking

A Shudder

A Side-Turning

A Struggling

All This Mainlining On Words

Cabinet Mirror

Catha Suddenly

Face Up

Fair Enough

Fair- Mindedness

Flying Buttress  in Bronze

For Chrissake

Fuel Cables

Full Of Echo's

Gold Chain Around His Neck

Half- Stefan Crossing

Having To Work

Heterosexuality

I Never Went Back

I Want To See You

In a Minute

In Frankfurt

In Hertfordshire

In Marxist

I could feel his tongue in my ear.

In Sussex

John Marx Stefanovitch

Julia

Kiss the envelope  for luck

Letter from Alison to Stefan

Letter  from Stefan to Alison

Listen Darling

Malleus malefactum

Mmmm’ Noises.

Mortality In Relation

My Beloved

Nancy Friday

‘Observe the wolf pack.

Our Relationship

Out- Stretched

Own Glass Still

Stefanovitch speaking

‘Nancy?  It’s Alison.  No need to tell the-avalanche others I’ve rung in.  but  have there been  any messages to the  switchboard for me?’
            ‘Several.’
            ‘From Stefan.’
            ‘No, business –wise.  Hang on, I’ll get the memos.’
            ‘Don’t bother.’
            ‘No.  See you.  ‘Thanks.’
            What the hell was he playing  at?  There must be something  wrong.  The most obvious thing in the world  was for him to ring the office and leave  message.  Oh God, and now I had   forgotten again to ask Nancy  to go round to my flat and get the passport out of my bureau drawer.  Though there  was little  point in that if he had  crash-landed  his twin-engined executive fixed-wing  short of Elstree aerodrome.  But there had been  nothing  in the papers.  ‘Cloud   cover  was low in Frankfurt.’  It had been in the German papers.  That was it.  he had not gained   enough height before he had  leveled out and struck  a tree.  I dialed his flat telling myself it served him right for flying his own plane  and disdaining  to travel like you and me.
            ‘John Stefanovitch has returned from in frankfurt.  He will be in London for two more days.  If you would like to leave a message, please speak  after the tone sounds.’
 I had instant recall of the fact that his last letter  had been posted in London.  Of course he was here.  I listened to the ping and then the silence for a while before I put the phone down.  I hated  him.  with a name like that.  But then what could  one expect from the issue of a Latvian father  who had married a Scotswoman and settled in Zurich?  No wonder  he had to carve his identity over and  over again  with a sharp knife.  Well, I had my identity and I was keeping it intact.  He would not carve me, nor would he use me as a building  block to shore up his crumbling foundation.  He had built on sand.  Let him sink.  I was  on solid rock.  My friends, my scaffolding,  supported me while I built up and up.  I had had the sense to stay in one place and refuse to squander my resources, emotional or otherwise.  Oh, he might sneer at my parochialism, but I would build until  I could fly my own flag in my own airspace  and he would  have to beg permission to fly through or around it.  Or something.  Before he psycho ops crash-landed.  I dialed   his number again just to make sure.
‘Hello?  Stefanovitch speaking.’
I slammed the phone down immediately. What the hell was he playing at?  I gritted my teeth and hung onto my anger.  He was a charlatan.  Pretending he loved me when he did not care whether I was dead  or alive. A charlatan cannot settle.  A charlatan keeps running away from the mirror that shows his true face.  Well, I would sit tight here and show him and show Catha that I was not afraid.  I was trembling when I went into the bathroom and for some reason avoided the mirror like the plague.

When Catha returned in the evening I had stuck to my resolve so well that I glittered with anger all through our late supper.  So much so, that during our meal of Savor mix cutlets and salad we tore the Equal Pay Act of 1970 and the Sex  Discrimination Act of 1975 to shreds.  We  poured scorn on the pathetic outcome of such negative laws.   As well as on the patriarchal attitude of the trade unions.  And in a final burst of cold fury went on to draft  the sorbonne more positive  laws deliberately favouring the employment and pay of  women along the lines of United States legislation.  We rounded off with a survey of man as Breadwinner and Woman as Cultivator,  drawing easy parallels between man as  Hunter and Woman  as Gatherer.  After which, Catha said she felt deliciously tired and very thankful  to me for putting her in the right frame of mind for her talk to the conference tomorrow. 
            As soon as we got into bed, which  was two Japanese  bed-rolls on the floor, she relaxed  , but  my anger refused to subside.  I told her everything  I had done and thought  while she had been at the library.  I begged her to keep some of her scorn back to cleanse me.  I wanted her to be angry with me before she fell  asleep.  But instead she said she loved me.  She had a secret too.  Had been afraid of her talk tomorrow, afraid that because  she was not working class her lack of muscles   would show through.  But now she knew that she had every right   to be angry too.  And, more importantly, she had the words and phraseology to communicate that  message a lovely girls precisely because  she was  middle class.  She sighed and turned   on her side to sleep.  But I did not want to let her go.

Petite-Bourgeoisette

Psycho-Ops

Remember celebrating

Seafood Filling

Self-Discipline

Self-Immolation

Seymour Warned

Seymour

Socio Economic

Soul Love

Stefan to Alison

Stefan winked.

Stefan

Stefanovitch speaking

Straggers Backwards

The Best Nurturing

The Heart of Paris

The Insidiousness

The Myth of the Vaginal Orgasm,

The Priest and the Penitent

The Shutters

The Sorbonne

Then Leave It

Today the Chief recommends

You Basterd