Jen's Legacy.

Jen’s Legacy? What was he talking about?

The scene blurred, became murky, and Claire discovered that she was not in a courtroom at all now, but was present at an auction.

Royce was no longer with her in her body, nowhere to be seen, and it was though he had never been with her. She had no sensation of him being in her body at all, or of leaving it.

This next room was packed with people that she could actually see. Women; all women. She could see them, and they were all as naked as she was, but all sat immobile as though frozen in place. All of them, like her, were also entirely naked. Indeed, they were all, her.

The auction was beginning even then.

They didn’t waste any time.

“Lot One. The only lot on the block today, consists of three items, two of which are draped, awaiting the arrival of the bidder. All were, or are, the property of Royce Healey.

“And here she is.” They had been waiting for her?

Clair could see three items, two of which were draped, but the third was almost too small to see, so did not require concealing.

“Yes. The bidder has arrived.” The man with the gavel--the only male in the room--was looking directly at her. He had the same crisp, authoritative voice as the previous magistrate. It was the same person, she was fairly sure of that.

“Lot One. Item A.”

The cover was removed to show a beautiful, naked woman lying in a supine position. She was smiling to the room full of replicas of Claire. There was a transparent window, a magnifying lens, set into her abdomen and all focus was upon what was revealed within that space of her uterus; a developing embryo; barely noticeable, even when magnified; only as large as a small seed, included in the frame for comparison; a poppy seed.

“Item A. On the block, is an unborn; just begun on life, and in need of a surrogate mother to take on this task from the very beginning as this mother is no longer able to bear it....”

Claire learned that the baby’s name, even at this early stage, of life, possibly only a month along, was, Claire Healey. She knew that name. That meant that the woman within whose body it was protected, was Jen; Royce’s late wife. She wanted to rush over and to meet her, explain why she was here and needed her, then suddenly found herself beside her, touching her hand, feeling how warm it was. This woman was not dead, but alive. She stroked Jen’s brow. They studied each other, taking in every detail they could see.

“Jen, I promise that I will look after your baby just as I will look after Royce for you.”Claire saw that she was understood as Jen mouthed her thanks in return.

Claire wanted to spend hours with this woman, climb into her head and learn what she knew.

In the blink of an eye, she was again in a different place. Jen was with her, beside her. Was that all it would take, wishing for it, wanting it?

“Hello, Claire. I’ve been watching you, trying to help you.”

Jen was reaching out to her, smiling at her.

“I am entrusting Royce to you, and our baby, but what a difficult time you are having of it all. Unfortunately, I fear Royce has misled you already, trying to protect you, and that was what got you into this mess.”

“He has? It did? How?” Claire was confused.

“A small fib. He told you that it took him three days to get into my body, not wanting to hurt me, but that was not true.

“I will show you. I will take you back to that one moment when Royce and I first met, and when we initially made love, and you will understand for yourself.” Jen leaned in and whispered. “I am sorry to be so brutally outspoken at times, but this court and chamber have no patience with any possible misunderstanding. ‘Making love’, has so many possible meanings. ‘Getting fucked, and fucking’, don’t. That, has only one interpretation.”

She took Claire’s arm and strolled with her about a garden, a small paradise, full of flowers, birds singing, and it was warm.

“We were both on holiday from university, and were in England with our parents, in Derbyshire, in a small place called Castleton. They were all looking for Pemberley; that Jane Austen creation in one of her books about those Bennet sisters and Mister Darcy.

“No matter. Royce and I bumped into each other coming out of the breakfast room that first morning, and we both felt an instant bond. It was more than that, but what could one say at that moment. You can’t just blurt out something like “We should fuck! Even if that is what you feel and know.”

Claire would have to get used to this outspokenness.

“We were both going for a walk, and were dressed for it, but it was raining outside. It was one of those steady drizzles that one soon learns about in England. To get to the point, the owner of the inn gave us two of those yellow waterproof capes to wear; the kind that a rider has, to protect the entire body, with only the head poking through, and protecting even the back of the horse; gave us packed lunches, and saw us go.

“After walking out into the country for an hour together, magically growing ever closer, Royce and I decided to stop and eat our lunches and talk, but not in the usual way.” She smiled, her eyes twinkling, recalling it. “Definitely not in the usual way, and we knew that we needed to do much more than to just talk.

“I shrugged out of my ‘poncho’ and we sat on that, inside-out to sit on, under his ‘poncho’, which we left as a ‘tent’ over us, protecting us from the weather. It was a confined space, of course, and we were thrown very close together. Very close, bodies touching, his legs over mine, looking into each others faces, holding each other to fit under there. We ate our lunch, talked, learned more about each other—so much more, the way we were sitting—and we could not avoid touching each other as we adjusted our positions. It was obvious what was going to happen, and it did.

“From there, to lifting, touching even more confidently, as we laughed and grew closer, leading to caressing, and kissing—we were only lightly dressed—was but a small step. Within moments we were both naked under there, and without a care in the world.

“Poor Royce. He was intent on being a gentleman as always, and would not hurt me any more than he would hurt you, but as we had just met and might soon part again, I could not allow such indecision, so I took charge. I pushed him onto his back and rose over him to get him started into me as he focused on my breasts—they always did fascinate him, especially the small birthmark under my right breast; like the birthmark you have.”

Claire was confused. “But I do not have a birthmark there.”

“You do now! See.” Jen lifted Claire’s breast and showed her.

Claire struggled to help her, lifting her breast farther. She had a birthmark that she’d never noticed before!

“Nice breasts, by the way. I think you have noticed, by now, that he particularly likes those.” Claire had indeed noticed.

Jen went back to what she had been saying.

“I got him started into me, and we froze there. He froze. So did I. He would be a challenge for any woman, as I know you soon found out, just as I did. So I stayed there, wanting to see what would happen.” She smiled, remembering that moment.

He ejaculated into me of course almost immediately. Mostly into me, just as he did with you.” Jen seemed to know a lot of what had happened. “But I would not let him retreat.

“As he shrank after that, I settled lower with him, not letting him out of my body, and I sat full on him, still trapping him in my vagina, getting him that little bit farther into me each time he shrank a bit, and I stayed that way with him, sitting on him as he continued to be fascinated by my breasts, playing with them like a child with a new toy. I swear he might never have touched any girl’s breasts until that moment, or fucked one either.

“What a memorable day that was for both of us! Soon after--with all of the stimulus to the poor man--he arose from the dead again, revived, but with nowhere to go but up, and fully into me, with me sitting hard on him and not moving, held down with all of my weight and determined not to give ground. There was nowhere else for him to go but back up into me.

“So, you see, I dealt with that problem by myself and got him fully into my body with the least struggling and difficulty. Problem solved.” She sighed and smiled. “You will have to do the same for him. We were never parted from each other since that time, breaking away from our parents on that holiday and going our own way together. We lived together ever since. Until.... but I don’t remember that part of it. They won’t let me.”

She looked up. “What do you mean our time is up, already? But we….”

Claire had heard nothing, no one.

“I must go.” She looked back wistfully at Claire. “Look after him for me, and our baby, please.”

She began to fade away.

“I will, Jen. I promise.”

Jen was very beautiful. No wonder Royce had been madly in love with her.

Claire was also back where she had been, without any sense of having moved at all to have had that conversation with Jen, but in dreams, anything was possible.

“...mother of this embryo…?” The auctioneer looked down at his sheet as he continued reading where he had left off. “Jen Healey, twenty-six years old.”

“Father… Royce Healey, also twenty-six years old.” He paused.

“The auction is progressive; each item needs to be bid upon separately before the others are revealed to be bid upon. All must be won by one party. Is anyone prepared to open the bidding?” He looked around.

“If there are no bidders to take over for this infant then….” He left it unsaid. It did not sound promising.

Claire knew why she was here. She leapt forward, discovering that she was moving through a medium that resisted her as though she were swimming through transparent molasses.

The gavel banged as the auctioneer looked directly at her.

“Sold!”

But she hadn’t bid.

“The winner.” The auctioneer was pointing at her.

But she’d not bid a price. However, there were no other bidders that she could see. No one else had moved.

“Next item. Item B.” He pointed.