An Encounter on a Train - Part 2

 An Encounter on a Train - 2

I was buying some razor blades in a pharmacy, one afternoon two
days   later, when I heard a soft and familiar voice at my elbow
saying,   "Hello. Remember me?"

    I turned, my face lighting up in pleasure as I saw Felicia  
standing behind me. "Well, hello yourself!" I exclaimed, "What a
  pleasure it is to see you again so soon. Are you doing some  
shopping?"

    "And grockling!" she laughed, "It seemed a pity not to come and
  do a bit of goggling at things, I felt. We've been to the
Minster,   and some awful sort of historical ghost-train ride,
where they   squirt nasty smells at you!"

    "So what are you doing in here?" I asked, "This isn't exactly  
an ancient monument." I pointed out, gesturing at the chrome,
glass   and aluminum shop-fittings which surrounded us, all
glaringly lit   by strip-lights.

    "Coming to get you!" she smiled, and explained, "We're having a
  coffee across the road, and I saw you coming in here. So
Nicola   suggested I ask you to join us. That is, if you have
nothing better   to do?" she added, mock-quizzically. I think
she knew it would take   something pretty major, to keep me
away. Something like the End of   the World, for example, but
only the full cast, with trumpets.   Nothing less.

    "I'd love to. Just let me get the change for these." The  
assistant passed me the coins and the bag, looking at Felicia  
curiously as she did so. I don't know what the girl was
thinking,   but to me, Felicia was quite a sight, wearing only
the barest hint   of makeup, her incredible eyes bright and
sparkling, her hair pulled   back in a pony-tail, dressed in a
skinny-rib sweater and a denim   miniskirt, with her leg bare
and a Cuban-heeled cowgirl boot on her   foot. She was using
axilla-crutches, but not the pair I had first   seen her with.

    "Okay, let's go." I said. Felicia turned and started off  
towards the door. I followed, my eyes glued to the sight of her
 one-legged walk. I decided I particularly liked the way empty
left   side of her miniskirt flicked and pulled as she moved,
almost, but   not quite, revealing the outline of her stump, or
lack of one; I   still wasn't quite sure.

    The door, one of those electric eye affairs, slid back as she  
approached. "Useful things, those, when you're on crutches." she
  remarked, pausing to let me catch up, waving a hand it.

    "I guess so. Where's this coffee-shop?"

    "Over there." she said, pointing. She resumed her grip on the  
hand-piece of her crutch. She stepped up to the curb and looked
 about for traffic, and seeing none, headed across the road. I
strode   along beside her, noting how neatly she walked, taking
fairly small   strides with her crutches and walking her leg
between them.

    She didn't swing on the crutches at all - they stayed almost  
perfectly upright all the time, but for a slight motion. She
would   begin a step by lifting the crutches off the ground a
tiny amount,   walk forward on her leg, keeping the staves
upright until her leg   was in backward extension, at which
point the tips would come in   contact with the ground again.
She would then lift her leg and walk   it forward, all the time
keeping both her body and the crutches   quite still, until it
was in forward extension, at which point the   cycle would
repeat.

    There was something a little unfamiliar about the motion,  
however. It wasn't quite the way she had moved when I helped her
  from the train, I was certain. She seemed a little more poised
and   relaxed. Not moving any more slowly, but seemingly less
hurried. The   result was a kind of syncopated glide, to me the
absolute essence of   the appeal of a one-legged girl. Felicia
had been devastating   before; now she was purest perfection.

    I held the door for her and let it swing shut behind me. She  
headed for a table near the window, at which sat the man who had
met   her from the train, and a girl of about Felicia's age,
with   shoulder-length chestnut hair, and the most exquisite
dark-green   eyes. Her face was stunning, worthy of the cover of
Cosmo or Vogue,   her figure the sort seen in Playboy.

    Felicia stood beside the table and slipped her crutches from  
under her arms. "Nicola and James Rowley, this is my friend from
the   train, Phil Barker." she said, introducing us. She resumed
the seat   she had left and passed me her crutches. "Could you
put these over   there?" she asked, pointing to a nearby corner.

    "Sure!" I said, taking them and looking where she indicated.  
Another pair were there already. A pair of dark, non-adjustable
 Canadian crutches, and not one of those I had carried for her  
before, I noticed. I went over, stacked them, making sure they  
wouldn't fall, and came back to the table, taking the remaining
seat   between Felicia and Nicola, facing James.

    "Been buying more crutches, Felicia?" I asked.

    "No, those are mine." Nicola replied, surprising me.

    "Yours?" I asked, puzzled. Felicia let out a hoot of laughter,
 and Nicola looked at her.

    "You might have warned him." she said, then turned to me, "Yes,
  I'm another one." I must have looked confused, because she  
explained, patiently, "An amputee. See?" she suggested, pushing
her   chair back from the table so that I could see the rest of
her.

    My heart pounding, I looked her up and down. Her clothes were  
straight out of the Levis ad - jeans that bore more relation to
 paint than fabric, and a shirt that the Lone Ranger could have
worn,   except that she filled it much more interestingly, the
lush round   firmness of her breasts pressing against the cloth.
But there was   something she didn't have - her right leg. Her
jeans had the   empty leg tailored, so that it fitted her stump
as tightly as the   rest of her, and she wore a high-heeled
suede ankle boot on her foot.

    "I gather you have the same effect on Phil that you do on me."
 said James, who hadn't spoken so far, except to say hello. He
looked   across at me and smiled, "At least, that's what it
looks like!" he   added. I guess astonishment must have been
writ large on my   features. Certainly I was more than
momentarily flabbergasted.

    "Um, er, yes!" I finally managed, and laughed a little shakily.

    "I'm sorry, Phil." Felicia said, putting a hand on my arm, "I  
just couldn't resist it!" she added, looking mischievous. "After
our   conversation on the train, well, it just seemed too good
an   opportunity to miss!"

    "I still think it was mean of you!" laughed Nicola, pulling her
  chair back to the table, "Poor Phil is probably only just
recovering   from having met you in the first place." she said,
sympathetically.   It seemed she was well aware of the effect
that she and Felicia   could have.

    I finally found my voice, "How come?" I asked, looking at  
Nicola, then added hurriedly, in case she misunderstood my
question,   "I mean, how come Felicia's staying with you? She
said that you were   friends of a friend." I explained.

    "Yes, that's right. My sister Jane was at school with a friend
 of Felicia's. Jane told me that Lucy knew another one-legger,
so I   asked for her address and invited her up."

    "Did you know?" I asked Felicia.

    "Of course, silly. That's why I came. It's not something we  
keep quiet, either of us. Nicola knows all about her 'special  
appeal'." she replied, continuing, "In fact she knows much more
 about it that I do."

    "Do you?" I asked, looking at Nicola.

    "Well, thanks to James, at least I didn't waste time messing  
about with an artificial leg." she began, looking across at
Felicia.   "I'd known him, slightly, before I lost my leg.
Anyway, he heard   about it a couple of weeks later, and came to
see me in hospital,   and then came back every day. I must say,
I was very grateful,   because he was the only one of my
visitors who didn't go on the   whole time about the adjustments
I'd have to make, and so on. He   just came to see me, and he
was cheerful and made me laugh, and   just, well, ordinary, I
suppose." she explained.

    "So eventually I went home, and he came to see me there, and he
  was just fun to be with. He helped me when I needed it, but he
  didn't fuss about, like the family tended to, so I began to
rely on   him for advice and comment. Best of all, though, he
didn't act as   though it was at all odd for somebody to have a
leg missing, nor   unusual to see someone pottering about on a
pair of crutches all the   time."

    "One day I asked if he wouldn't rather be with a 'normal' girl,
  instead of me, and he just said that as far as he was
concerned, he   was with a normal girl. I won't bother to go
into the detail of the   rest of that evening's conversation,
but the upshot of it was that   we both agreed that some
people's bodies are shaped differently to   others, and that I
happened to be a one-legged person."

    "For me, that is perfectly 'normal', just as it is normal for  
me to use crutches. The result is that I never really had any  
problem with accepting that, so I never bothered to try using a
 prosthesis. I didn't lose my leg that long before Felicia, only
  about ten months, but because of adapting more quickly I guess
I do   know a bit more about that 'special appeal', as she puts
it. I had   an expert teacher in James, of course." she smiled,
looking at her   husband and reaching affectionately for his
hand.

    "Equal credit to an adept pupil." he grinned back, evidently  
pleased and flattered at the plaudits. He turned to me. "Look,
why   don't you come and stay with us for the rest of your
visit? There's   plenty of room."

    "Yes, do!" Nicola chipped in, "We'd love to have you."

    "I'd be delighted." I replied, overwhelmed at my good fortune,
 but thankfully not struck fumble-tongued, for once. "Thank you
very   much."

    "What about your bags?" James asked. "Where are you staying?"

    "In the Royal George. It's just a Bed & Breakfast."

    "Well, in that case, you must come." James said, firmly. "At  
least we can give you lunch and dinner too!" he laughed. "I know
  where it is. Look, why don't you go and make peace with the  
landlady, and we'll meet you with the car in about twenty
minutes."

    "Sounds fine." I agreed, standing and pulling on my jacket.

    "Will you go with Phil, or come with us, Felicia?" asked
Nicola.

    "Would you mind if I stayed, Phil?" she asked, looking up at  
me, "There's a couple of shops we still have to visit."

    "I won't let them dawdle." James promised. Felicia looked at  
him and tutted. "They aren't that kind of shop. Just minutes, or
  even seconds."

    "I know Nicki's seconds." he groaned, looking at the ceiling.  
His wife laughed and patted his cheek. I waved, headed for the  
cash-desk and paid, then traced my steps back to the
lodging-house I   had found, a few streets away.

    As I walked, my head was buzzing with anticipation. Not only  
had I found my one-legged girlfriend again, but another and
equally   gorgeous amputee in the bargain. And to cap it all, I
was going to   be spending the next four days under the same
roof as both of them!  

    The drive out to Loudwater, which was the small village in  
which James and Nicola lived, took about half an hour, during
which   time we drove the length of Waterdale, passing a series
of   sheep-farms which diminished in size as the land rose,
until the   final ones were no more than small holdings,
clinging precariously to   the ungiving hills. Finally James
turned the car off the road and   between a pair of huge stone
monoliths which evidently served as   gateposts, then pulled up
in a walled yard in front of a ancient   stone farmhouse, squat
and massively-constructed as is customary in   the upper Dales
of Yorkshire, to resist the killing winds and   dreadful winter
storms.

    James and I unloaded the shopping, taking it into the kitchen,
 where the girls bustled about, Felicia setting herself to
making   lunch while Nicola was putting away the booty.

    Afterwards, Felicia and I went for a gentle stroll down into  
the village. We'd actually intended to get as far as the church,
  which is reputed to have the oldest brass-inlaid gravestone in
  England, or something like that, but we got waylaid by a game
of   Pooh-sticks at the bridge. Felicia started it, but I joined
in with   her as though we'd done it hundreds of times before.  

    Playing the game with a one-legged girl gave it a novel appeal,
  and I suspect that Felicia was well aware that I was
considerably   more interested in her than I was in how my
Pooh-sticks were doing,   but we got bored with it after a
while, and leaned on the parapet,   just watching the river flow
past. Felicia glanced at me as I moved   closer. My arm was just
barely touching hers, but I was acutely   conscious of the
nearness of her.

    "I'm glad we bumped into each other again." I said.

    "Mmmm." she agreed, her voice barely audible above the sound of
  the water. "I feel comfortable with you, somehow."

    A glow of pleasure teased me at her words. "I don't know  
whether to be proud, pleased of flattered, but I'm very glad." I
  responded. "I guess all three at once."

    She smiled, "You can be all three, if you like! Just go on as  
you are, that's all I ask."

    "But I'm not doing anything special." I demurred.

    "That's what I meant." she replied, "That's why I feel  
comfortable with you - because you treat me as a person."

    "Well, how else?" I retorted.

    "You'd be surprised how else." she answered, then added, "Most
 people don't see any further than those." Her hand gestured at
her   crutches, standing beside her, then moved down to her
side, pulling   her coat open a little to indicate her amputated
leg, "and this."

    "Stupid them." I said, dismissing them. "I think you're  
gorgeous!"

    "That's the other thing."

    "What is?"

    "Well, the way you see all of me, in a way." she explained, "I
 mean, you like me as I am; as a woman first, but a woman with
one   leg and crutches. You don't ignore the fact that I have
one leg, but   you don't ignore the rest of me, either."

    "You know that I think it makes you look very attractive."

    "I could hardly fail to notice!" she laughed, then paused, her
 face becoming more thoughtful, "But seriously, I want you to
know   that I'm just as flattered by your attention, and I'm
pleased that   you like having me as your friend." She leaned
towards me and her   lips brushed my cheek.

    A while passed in silence. "It must feel a bit odd, though." I
 mused eventually.

    "What must?" Felicia said lifting her head from my shoulder.

    "Having one leg." I replied.

    Felicia leaned forward a little and looked down. "I suppose it
 did, at first, but you get used to anything eventually." Her
hand   stirred inside the pocket of her trench coat, making the
empty side   move. "I seem to remember that I once had a leg
here, but I manage   OK without it."

    "Better head on back, it's getting cold." I said.  

    The dress Nicola wore when she came down to dinner that evening
  wasn't blatant by any stretch of the imagination, with a high
neck   and long sleeves, but it was wool, dark green in color,
and it   clung to the curves of her body in a very intimate
fashion,   accentuating and suggesting but not actually
revealing the shape of   her stump in the process. She wore a
high-heeled green shoe on her   foot, and her leg, which I could
now see, was as stunning as the   rest of her, clad in sheerest
nylon, slender at the ankle and   swelling to form a perfect
calf. This time, however, she was using   rosewood
axilla-crutches, instead of the elbow-crutches she had used  
during the day.

    Felicia's costume, by contrast, was about as blatant as it is  
possible to get, and not be arrested. She'd chosen a skin-tight
 black jersey silk number which bared one shoulder, with such a
deep   split on the right-hand side of the skirt that her leg
was visible   clear up to her hip! Her stocking was black, and
had some shiny   quality to it which gave a fascinating sheen to
the curves of her   thigh and calf as the light caught them, and
she had a black patent   shoe with a seriously high heel on her
foot.

    The other side of her dress clung in such a way that it was at
 last clear to me that did have a stump, but that it was so
short   that it can't have been of much use to her. No wonder
she had   such problems with a prosthesis, I realized. Her hands
held the pair   of Canadian crutches which Nicola had been using
earlier. "Well,   what do you think, guys?" she asked, shifting
the right crutch to   her other hand and striking a cheesecake
pose, or as near as she   could, at any rate, with only one leg
being thus unable to complete   the classic stance.

    "Stunning, both of you." I pronounced, wholeheartedly.

    "Seconded." agreed James, walking over and handing Nicola a  
glass of vodka and orange. "What would you like, Felicia?"

    "A small G and T, please. And I do mean small. I seem to get  
very tiddly on not much, these days, for some reason." she said,
  readjusting her crutches and moving over to the sofa, then
sitting   down and laying them under her foot in one smooth
motion.

    "That's what I've found, too." agreed Nicola, taking a chair  
and seating herself in a similarly-graceful fashion. "I guess it
  must be because there's less of me than there was. Could that
be so,   James?" she asked, looking over to him.

    "I imagine it would be, yes." he said, thoughtfully. "Alcohol  
gets converted in the liver, but it spends most of the time in
the   bloodstream until then, so I guess that since you two
girls probably   have about a pint less blood than before, a
given sized drink would   have more effect on you now. Less to
dilute it, you see." he   finished.

    "Mr. Technical, that's my husband." smiled Nicola.

    "What do you do, anyway?" I asked.

    "I'm a kind of inventor. Well, I do some inventing, but mostly
 I test other people's ideas. And their gadgets. Often to
destruction.  " he grinned, looking like a naughty schoolboy.

    "He's an Assessor for the National Development Corporation, he
 means." Nicola supplied. "But he's right, he spends most of his
time   playing with odd little thingies which make weird noises,
then stop.   He says he's testing them. If they explode, too,
then he says he's   testing them to destruction. Happens quite a
lot." she laughed.   "There's burnt patches all over the
back-lawn. The side-effect of it   is that he seems to know
almost everything about almost everything   else. He's not even
allowed to play Trivial Pursuits at my parents'   house. My Dad
banned him!"

    "That's his fault for getting the Science and Technology set.  
He did pick my speciality, petal!" James said, sounding slightly
  mournful. He brightened, "But still, I won on the General
knowledge   one too!"

    "That's why." Nicola said, sticking her chin out at him,  
"Smarty-pants knew all the answers."

    "Is that all the blood in a whole leg?" asked Felicia,  
interestedly, picking up on something James had said a moment  
earlier, "Only a pint?"

    "Thereabouts, I think." said James, adding, "Certainly a lot  
more than half of the ten pints is needed for the lungs, liver,
and   the rest of the vital organs in the body. There's a good
pint in the   aorta and heart alone. And that's not considering
the head and   brain, which needs at least a pint and a half. No
I should say that   all four limbs wouldn't need more than three
pints in total. Three   and a half for a very big man. And I
mean really big."

    "What a gruesome conversation before dinner." Felicia said,  
"Sorry."

    "Oh, don't worry!" Nicola said calmly, "I've had him give  
lectures on the precise effects of nuclear weapons over the
soup,   followed by the pathology of bubonic plague for main
course, and   finishing with the exact time scale of changes in
the Sun to follow,   finally describing the eventual destruction
of the planet when it   goes nova over the coffee. He doesn't
have much use for small-talk,   as my Mother says."

    "She does, and frequently. I just think it makes a change from
 football and/or politics." James said, sounding not at all put
out   at the unflattering description. "I'd rather such things
didn't   actually happen over dinner, of course," he laughed,
"but I can't   see what's wrong with talking about them. If
anyone asks, that is."

    "Funny," Nicola mused, "He's the fussiest eater I've ever met,
 but in the way of conversation, at least, nothing can turn his
 stomach."

    "Fussy eater?" asked Felicia, swiveling to face him, pulling  
her skirt in the process so that it practically disappeared,  
revealing the whole expanse of her thigh and tightening to show
the   exact size and shape of her stump.

    "No, not at all." he replied, his eyes riveted on the display,
 as were mine. "I just don't like green food. Most kinds,
anyway."

    "Green food?" asked Felicia, surprise in her voice. She pulled
 at her skirt, not looking displeased with the attention, simply
  aware of our gazes.

    "Veggies. 'cept petit pois and runner beans." he informed her.

    "I just can't get him to even try anything." Nicola complained.
  "He just says he's found his ideal food, and apart from
potatoes, he   generally prefers it to have legs."

    "Not like his taste in women, then?" Felicia giggled, looking  
down at her own very frankly displayed leg and kicking it up and
  down a little.

    "I like my food to have either fins, two legs and wings, or  
four legs. I only like my women with one." he confirmed amiably,
  watching her.

    "Talking of food, let's go and eat." Nicola said decisively.  
She picked up one crutch, stood, tucked it under her arm, and
headed   for the kitchen, leaving the other where she had laid
it.

    "Can I assist?" I suggested, following.

    "Oh, most certainly! I've never figured out how to carry a rack
  of lamb in one hand yet!" she laughed. She pushed through the
door   and into the kitchen.

    "That's clever, the way you can use just one crutch." I  
remarked.

    "Thank you!" she smiled, "but it's not very difficult really. I
  taught myself to do this so that I'd be able to get around
with at   least one hand free, but I try not to do it too much -
it's not very   good for the spine, you see. Makes your
shoulders crooked if you   overdo it."  

    Later, I was making more coffee in the kitchen when James came
 in. He stood and watched me for a moment. "I shouldn't hang
about,   with Felicia." he commented.

    "Come again?" I asked, not sure what he was driving at.

    "Does she have to bash you over the head again?" he grinned,  
referring to our first meeting, of which she had evidently told
him.   "Go get her. She wants you to."

    "Does she?" I said, slightly doubtfully. She had been friendly,
  yes, but not effusively so.

    "Who d'you think she put that dress on for, you dope? Me?" he  
said, his posture and expression indicating that he knew it
wasn't   so. "When Nicola dresses like that, I know exactly what
she's after!   So should you."

    "Well, yes, now that you mention it, I guess you're right." I  
agreed, seeing the truth of his words. "I don't want to seem too
  pushy, that's all."

    "Well, at least you aren't playing hard-to-get. That's the  
silliest game of all. Look, just forget your gentlemanly
instincts,   noble though they may be. Just do what comes
natural. She won't   object. Just don't break any bones."

    "Want to carry some cups?" I asked, nodding to show I had  
heard. He took two and led the way back to the fireside.

    Nicola and Felicia were roaring with laughter when we returned.
  Felicia was sitting on the floor, back against the sofa and
her leg   stretched out in front of her. Her face was lit by the
glow of the   logs in the huge stone fireplace of the enormous
but cozy old house;   a light almost as flattering to a woman as
candlelight. In her case   it made her perfect complexion seem
like velvet, her teeth sparkling   like pearls as she laughed
and her golden hair catching the light.

    Seeing us, they stopped, both looking as innocent as lambs.  
James winked at me, and by unspoken but mutual agreement he and
I   held our peace.

    "What brought you two together, anyway?" I asked, when I had  
seated myself again, Felicia moving aside to let me pass and  
settling back to lean against my legs. I reached down and
caressed   the back of her neck. "Surely it wasn't solely
because you're both   amputees?"

    "Yes, it was." countered Felicia, looking up at me, and adding,
  "It was shoes, to be precise."

    "Shoes?" I asked, not understanding.

    "Well, you must have noticed that I only need a right shoe, and
  Nicola only the left?" she asked. I nodded, and she went on,
"It   just happens that we both take the same size, which means
we can   share a pair between us." she explained.

    "That's right." Nicola agreed, "I have dozens and dozens of  
completely unworn right shoes."

    "I don't, as yet," Felicia continued, "because I've hardly  
bought any new ones since the accident, but at least in future
I'll   know what to do with them!"

    "How convenient for you both." I remarked, intrigued at the  
idea.

    "Actually, Nicola's given me so many that I don't think I'll  
need any more for months." she commented, looking down at her
foot.   "This is one of them." she said, twisting her foot to
show it off.   "She's given me loads of others."

    "It looks stunning!" I affirmed, gazing at it admiringly. "In  
fact, you both look stunning. I don't know what it is, but
somehow   you two seem to complement each other."

    "Yes, they do, don't they?" agreed James, passing me a brandy  
tulip, "It's as though each somehow makes the other look even
more   beautiful." He turned to look at Felicia, then at his
wife, before   saying thoughtfully, "You know, to my eyes, a
woman looks much more   feminine, with one leg. Wouldn't you
say, Phil?" He smiled at his   wife and Felicia, who both looked
like a pair of cats that had just   been topped up with cream. I
hmmed in agreement, too busy looking   at the girls to answer
more fully.  

    "You're right," I finally agreed, adding, "I think it must be  
because a girl who has lost a leg looks vulnerable, and that's a
  very feminine attribute. I don't mean that either of you are,"
I   added hastily, noticing Felicia's eyebrows rising slowly, "I
mean   Felicia triggers masculine feelings of protectiveness in
me. I want   to keep anything from hurting her. And I feel that
even more   strongly, because she has one leg." Felicia reached
up and squeezed   my hand.

    "When did you first learn about some men being attracted to  
amputees, Felicia?" asked James after a moment or two.

    "I seem to remember being told something about it when I was  
waiting for the operation," she answered, "but it didn't really
 register. It was when Nicola told me in a 'phone call that I
began   to take some notice. She suggested that I try doing
without the   prosthesis, in fact. I mean, going out in public
without it. Letting   myself be seen as being one-legged, and
using crutches, you know."

    James nodded in agreement, and she went on, "And that's when I
 began to realize what an opportunity I'd been wasting." she
laughed,   adding, "It didn't take me long to decide that even
if I didn't   fully understand it, I wasn't going to let that
stop me from looking   for a guy who would appreciate me as I
am, crutches, one leg and   all. I just didn't expect to find
him sitting on a train!" she   smiled, caressing my hand with
her cheek.

    I slipped my hands under her arms, lifting her up beside me.  
She came to me willingly, pushing herself up to sit on the
cushion,   then snuggling up to me, lifting her leg to place the
bent knee   across my lap. In the process her tiny stump pressed
tightly against   my upper thigh, so that I could not avoid
feeling the constant   slight motions of it. I know she was well
aware of what she was   doing, but I found that made it all the
more intensely erotic an   experience.

    I let my hand rest on her leg, relishing the slender singleness
  of it. Felicia put her arm round my neck and laid her head
against   mine. My fingers stroked up and down her thigh.
"That's nice." she   muttered in my ear. "I like the way you
touch my leg."

    Nicola had picked up her crutches and gone to put a tape on the
  hi-fi. She pushed the start button and the familiar notes of
'One   Night in San Francisco' by Paco de Lucia, Al diMeola and
John   McLaughlin came from the speakers. After replacing the
box on the   shelf, she stood looking at the titles; James came
up behind her and   put his arms around her waist. Her head
leaned back against his   shoulder and they stood closely for a
while, swaying slightly in   time to the music, then she twisted
in his arms, turning easily on   her crutches to face him. Her
face tilted up to his and her arms   snaked round his back. He
bent to kiss her.

    Felicia watched this little vignette with a smile on her face.
 "I think I'll do some of that, too." I remarked, bending to
place my   lips on hers. She was smiling as my mouth touched
hers. I knew where   I'd be spending the night.

    "You don't have much of a stump, do you?" I whispered after a  
while, her proximity giving the confidence finally to discuss
her   one-leggedness as freely as she did.

    "Not enough to get in the way, at least!" she chuckled. "But  
you're right. It's hardly there at all. In fact, it doesn't do
much   more than preserve the line of my hip."

    "It certainly does that very well!" I joked.

    "Maybe," she replied, "but that's all. That's why I had such  
problems with that prosthesis. To all intents and purposes, I
might   as well be a hip-dis, for all the leverage I could get
with it."

    "A what?" I wondered.

    "Oh, a hip-disarticulation. A hip-dis. One stage up from an  
amputation."

    "Meaning removal at the joint itself." I said, showing I knew  
what she meant.

    "Yup. I still have my left hip-joint, but there's only an inch
 or two of bone below that. Not enough to make it useful." she  
affirmed.

    "It feels rather nice, though." I said softly, my lips against
 hers.

    "I thought you'd like it!" she smiled, kissing me, "Does it  
turn you on?" she added, her deliberate tease putting an impish
look   in her eye. "I think it must, the way you're stroking my
thigh!"

    "I hardly need reminding!" I laughed softly, "But it does make
 me rather acutely conscious of you."

    "I still can't really believe that having one leg makes me so  
attractive to you."

    "Well, all I can say is, that it does, and as long as you're  
happy with that, I'll be wrapped tightly round your little
finger."

    She laughed softly and ruffled my hair. "Oh, I'm happy with it,
  but I'm still not absolutely sure why, that's all. But if you
want a   one-legged girlfriend, then I'm all yours! I reckon
we'll just have   to wrap our little fingers round each other."

    "What would you say was the main thing about adapting, after  
you lost your leg?" I asked Nicola, when she and James had
returned   to the fireside.

    "I discovered that it wasn't the big things that were the  
problem," she replied, "it was the little things - like what to
do   with my crutches when I wasn't using them. Then there was
the   psychological adjustment I had to make, to accept the
limitations   that come with having one leg. I had to learn not
to want to run, or   to dance, for example, instead of
regretting that I can't."

    "I think I know what you mean," commented Felicia. I didn't,  
really, and must have looked puzzled, because Nicola explained.

    "It's quite subtle, but that's the only way I can describe it.
I   mean, I don't want to feel negative, so instead of thinking
of the   things I can't do anymore, I had to learn to accept and
be content   with what I am. A one-legged woman." she stopped,
letting the words   sink in. "Of course," she resumed after a
moment, "my other main   concern was the social effect, but that
wasn't much of a problem at   all. Thanks to James, I soon
discovered that I didn't seem to have   lost any appeal. On the
contrary, to him, I'd gained a lot."

    "Were you surprised?" I asked.

    "A bit, yes. I'd imagined that as an amputee, people would be  
turned off. I guess we all fear rejection, and I was making
myself   ready for it, but I was surprised to discover that he
was the exact   opposite."

    "And what did you think, when you discovered that?" I said,  
"didn't it seem a bit odd?"

    "I didn't stop to think about it. I was just thrilled to bits!"
  she laughed, "You can't imagine what a relief it was to me. I
 thought I'd die an old maid!"

    "Never!" James and I said as one.

    "But to answer your question," Nicola added, "no, I didn't  
think of it as odd, at all. As I told you, we both agreed that  
people are different. I just happen to be an amputee, and he
just   happens to like girls with one leg. What could be more
natural?"

    "But didn't you wonder why he was attracted to one-legged  
girls?"

    "You mean, did it bother me that something unpleasant for me  
was attractive to him? No, not once I was sure that it wasn't
out   out of any sadistic tendencies on his part. He explained
that he   didn't enjoy pain, or anything like that. The appeal,
he said was in   the way I moved on crutches, and so on....you
know the sort of thing   I mean. The one-legged look, I guess
you might say. Now that I've   learned what he likes, I can sort
of see what he means. There is a   certain elegance, as he
says."

    "Would you describe yourself as content?" I asked her, harking
 back to something she said earlier.

    "Yes, I think so." she answered slowly, "I'm quite happy as I  
am. I mean, having one leg doesn't bother me so I guess I must
be   content with it."

    "I think I am, too." Felicia put in, "I think it made me aware
 of what I could take, if I had to. I don't think would know
that, if   I hadn't had a leg off."

    "But was it worth it?" I asked, looking at her.

    She laughed, "Worth it? I don't know! I do know that losing my
 leg made me realize just how precious life is, and how easily
it can   be, well, you know..." she trailed off.

    "Yes, that's true." Nicola agreed, "Looked at that way, it was
 kind of worth having my leg off, to learn that."

    Felicia turned to James, "Phil told me that he first realized  
that he was attracted to amputees when he was quite young." she
 said, "Were you the same?"

    "You mean, when did I realize my interest?" he responded.  
Felicia nodded in affirmation, at which he went on, "About ten,
I   think. There was a magazine my grandmother had. I think it
was a   copy of Film Fun; anyway, it had a review of "Decision
at Dawn",   with some stills, one of which was a scene in an
army canteen, with   a one-legged girl in the background. I
remember being utterly   fascinated by that picture, and I'd
hide away in the attic and look   at it for hours."  

    Nicola met me on the upstairs landing as I came up. Evidently  
she was ready for bed, because she was dressed in a short cotton
  bathrobe, her leg was bare and she leaned on a battered old
pair of   axilla-crutches. "Felicia's a lucky girl." she said,
without   preamble.

    "Oh, is she?" I asked.

    "I think any girl is, when a man looks at her the way you do."
 she smiled, adding, "I can tell you're utterly smitten by her,
 aren't you?"

    "I feel pretty smitten, I know that much." I laughed.

    "Oh, good!" she chuckled, "Well, in that case I guess you won't
  be needing your room then! I hope you both have fun!" she
smiled   again, leaning to kiss me on the cheek, and went to her
own room. I   watched, enjoying the sight of her leg almost as
much as I did   watching Felicia's.

    When I had finished in the bathroom I went straight to  
Felicia's room and knocked on the door. "Come in!" she called. I
  opened the door and stepped inside, shutting it behind me.
Felicia   was sitting up in bed, naked, her hair falling loosely
round her   shoulders. I looked at her, noting the way that the
bedclothes   outlined her leg. Her crutches stood against the
wall.

    "I've been waiting for you." she smiled, and put down the book
 she had been reading. She slid across the bed, holding out her
arms   to me. I stepped over the intervening gap in two strides,
slipping   out of my robe and climbing into bed beside her.

    My arm reached under her shoulders and gathered her to me, her
 breasts pressing against my chest, and her head coming to rest
on   the pillow beside mine, in just the right position to kiss
her lips,   so I did. Her leg lay alongside mine, pressing
against it from hip   to ankle. She reached up with her left
hand and pulled at my right   arm, lying across her back,
drawing it down until she held my wrist,   then guiding my hand
down to her waist before letting go.

    She broke off the kiss and drew back slightly. "I want you to  
touch me down there." she said softly, adding after a second or
two,   "On my missing bit."

    I answered with my hand, letting it move slowly down from her  
waist and  over her hip until I began to feel an unfamiliar
curve.   My hand was encountering the short round shape which
was all that   remained of her left leg. It was so small that I
found I could cup   almost the whole of her stump in my spread
fingers. She shivered and   gave a quick gasp. It was soft, and
I felt the end of the bone   inside stirring under my hand as I
caressed her.

    It seemed that she enjoyed the sensation as much as I, and she
 made a small moan of pleasure. "God, but you're beautiful!" I  
whispered. She buried her head in the curve of my neck and
hugged me   tight.