Thursday

by David Ridgway

  She went back upstairs to find a nightie for Jackie. It would be too big, but it would do. She knocked on the bathroom door.

  “Jackie, love. Are you there?”

  “No. I’m here,” Jackie replied, coming out of the spare bedroom with the bath towel wrapped round her body and another like a turban for her hair. She looked warm and content, with a red face and her wet hair tied up in another towel. She smiled at Sarah. “You are so kind. Thank you for taking me in.”

  “I expect you’ll want a hot drink before you get to sleep. Do you like Drinking Chocolate or would you prefer Horlicks?”

  “Oh. That’s a good idea. Actually, I’d just like a hot cup of tea, if that’s not too much trouble.”

  “I’ve got a nightie for you,” Sarah said, handing over the garment.

  Jackie giggled. “Thanks, but I don’t normally wear anything in bed!”

  “Well, that’s up to you. But I think it might be an idea to slip it on while you come downstairs for your tea!” Sarah smiled. In the bathroom, they both heard the shower had stopped and suddenly, David appeared wearing another towel round his waist. He looked from Jackie to his mother.

  “What’s going on?” he asked.

  “I’m going to make a pot of tea. I expect you’ll have one, David? Jackie’s coming down in my old nightie. The washing will be about done. I’ll have your dress ironed before I get to bed.”

  With that, she smiled at Jackie and David and went downstairs.

  “You appear to have made a good impression on Mum,” David remarked.

  “I only went and told her that I don’t sleep in a nightie!” Jackie replied.

  “Good,” said David. “Neither do I. Well, not in pyjamas, anyway!” He put his arms round her and pulled her to him. “Come on! We’d better not keep her waiting!”

  “She’s been so kind and welcoming.” David undid the towel at her neck, letting it fall to the floor. She quickly put the nightie over her head and as quick as the vision of her loveliness had been displayed, it was once again hidden from his view. Quickly they went downstairs for the promised cuppa.

  Finally, Michael Varley fell asleep. He was troubled that Alice appeared to be so much in control. She emerged from the bathroom, reminding him that she had left the water in the bath. She said that she would press his suit trousers. He told her that he had already put them into the trouser press, realising that they were a bit bedraggled after returning to the hotel in the appalling weather. He decided to get into the bath, but he was disappointed because he was hoping to take the bath with Alice and now she was back in the bedroom quicker than expected.

  As he disappeared into the bathroom, Alice quickly checked that the trousers were correctly placed in the press. She retrieved them just in time to save them from the dreaded ‘tram lines’. She ensured that the creases would now be razor edge sharp and that his jacket would be dry. The radiators in the room were very warm and her dress already appeared to be dry. She made good use of the ironing board and it was soon ready for the morning. She put on her shorty nightgown and got into bed. It was almost midnight when Michael emerged, pink and bathed, with a towel round his waist.

  “Already in bed? That’s what I like!” he said, feigning a jocular mood. Alice smiled and looked up from her magazine.

  “You must be feeling tired after all that effort getting your speech ready for tomorrow.”

  “Not really. Thanks for sorting out my suit.”

  “You’re welcome.” He pulled back the sheet on his side, dropped the towel on the floor and got into the bed. Alice put down the magazine and turned off her bedside light. She turned back towards Michael, feeling for his leg. He was lying on his back and felt warm and still slightly damp. As she ran her fingers up his leg, as he put his arm round her shoulders. But there was no reaction down below. She took hold of his soft penis, feeling no reaction at all. I wonder if it’s me, she thought.

  “Are you feeling concerned about tomorrow?” she asked. “I mean, this is rather surprising.” She gently squeezed him.

  “Actually, it’s a bit embarrassing,” he replied. “It’s happened once or twice before, but never with you.”

  “Do you want me to see if I can give you a little encouragement?” she asked, as she slipped further down the bed. She rolled over his leg and turned onto her stomach. She was now lying between both his legs, with her elbows outside his thighs. She held his penis in both hands, pulled back his foreskin and gently licked the top. The base of his stomach contracted as she drew him into her mouth, her tongue gently rubbing against the shaft. She was rewarded with a slight stiffening, which encouraged her to suck more enthusiastically, running her tongue around his glans.

  “Perhaps if I turned round, you could also lick me,” she suggested. “That might help.”

  As she knelt upright, she gently closed his legs so that she could place both her knees on either side of him. She swiftly took off her nightdress, while he shuffled further down the bed, between her legs. She then turned round and moved back towards the headboard, until his head was between her knees. She placed both elbows on either side of his hips. As she leant forward to suck his penis again, she could feel his fingers gently opening the lips of her pussy and his tongue penetrating her. Despite the inadequacy of his erection, she felt herself becoming aroused, especially when her clitoris began to expand. As he sucked and nuzzled her, his penis hardened a little and she started to masturbate it.

  But this was obviously not going to be a night of erotic activity. After that initial reaction, his partial erection diminished and, finally, she returned to her side of the bed.

  “I’m sorry,” he said.

  “I think you should get yourself to a doctor. Erectile dysfunction can be a sign of all sorts of medical situations, but I expect you are just worried about tomorrow. Perhaps you’ll feel better after a good night’s sleep.”

  With that, Alice turned over and closed her eyes, leaving Michael to doze fitfully before falling asleep in the early hours.

  Outside, the storm continued unabated. The intensity increased with the rain lashing down and the wind becoming even fiercer. High Water came, in central London, at 4.30 am, but no one really noticed at such an early time of the morning. By six o’clock, the early risers were beginning, with some difficulty, to make their way to work.

  In Poplar, Fred should have been starting three days of late shifts but, because one of his colleagues was scheduled to have a doctor’s appointment, he agreed to work one extra early. He slipped out of bed at six. He looked out of the bedroom window, more to check the state of the weather than anything else. He could just see the river between two tower blocks.

  That looks a bit full. I’m sure High Water must have already passed, he thought.

  Twenty minutes later, he was on his way to the fire station and, as usual, he stopped by the newsagents to purchase a morning paper from Rajinder.

  The Thames Barrier was closed on the previous evening to counter the effect of the expected spring tide. However, the extraordinary level of rainfall right across southern England, falling on top of the already saturated land, was now draining into the Thames and all its various tributaries. Already the floodwater upstream was causing localised flooding near Oxford and the overall effect on the river itself was to raise its level throughout the whole of its course.

  What Fred couldn’t see, because the Thames Barrier was obscured by the river bending around the O2 Arena, was the level of water at Woolwich. Two hours and more after High Tide, no water seemed to have ebbed at all. Although concerning, there were no alarm bells ringing as yet, because there were still well over three hours to Low Water and still sufficient time for the tide to ebb.

  He walked on to the fire station and clocked on at 6.30 am. Once again, the night shift had been quiet. Fred quickly received the report before taking over control from his colleague and settling down to another normal day.

  Further down river, beyond Canvey Island, Martin had woken earl
y. He intended to look once again at the river defences bordering the southern reaches of his land. When walking along the sea wall the day before, he was considerably surprised at the height of the water. He left the house by the kitchen door, just as night was reluctantly giving way to daylight. The sky was full of heavy rain clouds and the wind was extremely strong. It was raining heavily and Martin was glad that he had put a muffler round his neck, as well as a really thick Arran jumper to keep him warm.

  He was halfway across the yard, when the door opened again, behind him. James was standing there, in his stockinged feet, but otherwise dressed as a carbon copy of Martin.

  “Hang on a minute, Dad,” he called. “I’ll come with you.” With that, the door shut for a moment, only to reopen with James wearing boots, obviously ready for whatever the weather might throw at him.

  They walked in companionable silence down the track alongside the edge of the field. It was very muddy and, because of the ferocity of the wind, their progress was slow. In the distance they could see that the river was still very high and they wondered whether the sea wall would be strong enough to stop it flooding. Beyond the field was the London to Southend railway line, which had been built on a raised embankment. They passed under the lines, through a small bridge, and continued walking along the edge of a muddy field bordering the railway line before turning towards the river.

  “This wind is really vicious,” remarked Martin, as they approached the bottom of the field. In front of them was a barbed wire fence and the dyke running basically east west, acting as the sea wall which now hid the view of the river itself. Inside the sea wall was a ditch which, when the tide was out, emptied through a large concrete pipe under the sea wall with the aid of an automatic sluice. As the tide came in, the water would cause the iron door to shut, keeping the sea water off the fields. “Come on, the gate’s just over there.”

  They passed through the gate, crossed over the ditch using a bridge made from old reinforced concrete joists and climbed up some muddy steps cut into the slope of the dyke. At the top, they looked out over the river. Although High Water had passed almost three hours before, the rough waves were still lapping more than halfway up the far side of the sea wall. They knew that the north shore of Canvey Island was immediately in front of them but, with the wind being so strong, it was almost impossible to keep their balance and, with the rain being so intense, the opposite shoreline was virtually obscured.

  “I don’t like the look of this,” muttered Martin.

  “How do you mean?” replied his son.

  “Look how full the river is. It should be Low Water at half past ten. This lot will never ebb before then. Look over there.” He pointed towards the east where Two Tree Island was just visible through the rain. “The water should already have receded, but you can still see a massive pool near the golf range.”

  “Yeah! I see what you mean. What’ll happen when the tide turns and starts to come back in?”

  “That doesn’t bear thinking about. I remember stories of the 1953 flood of Canvey Island. Mind you all the sea defences have been heightened and strengthened since then. This dyke is now part of the sea wall defences from the Thames all the way north to the Wash. The Environment Agency is supposed to keep it all in good order.”

  They turned to face the west and started to stagger into the wind as they attempted to walk in the direction of South Benfleet along the pathway on the top of the sea wall.

  “I want to check if there’s any damage to the wall in those two places where it bends round the mud flats over there. Come on!”

  They trudged for about half a mile with their backs bent almost double because of the ferocity of the wind. The sea wall curved away to their right and then sharply back to the left, creating a small bay. Over the years the wall had sunk slightly forming a natural dip. The wind whipped waves were still washing over the top the wall, leaving a lethal muddy surface on the path. On the landward side, a large pool had formed, draining into the ditch, which was absorbing most of the excess water. The ditch stretched as far west as Benfleet and as far east as Leigh on Sea. At regular intervals there were branches which ran north towards the railway line. Although the sea had reached the top of the wall at this point, the height of the tide had obviously not been that much greater than it was at present.

  “Look at that, James!” exclaimed Martin to his son. “That natural dip in the wall is where it was been built over an old stream. The stream now acts as another sluice, but that could be why it’s sunk a little over the years. I have advised the Environment Agency, but they have shown little concern to date.”

  “Is that all sea water, then?” James pointed to the pools of water on the landward side of the wall.

  “Yes. But what’s far more worrying is that the sea is still slopping onto the top of the wall and High Tide would have been well over three hours ago. The tide can’t have been much higher than the water is now, otherwise there would be far more water on the landward side.”

  He went on, “And that must mean that the wind in the English Channel is so strong that it’s stopping the natural ebb of the tide.”

  “What do you mean?”

  “With the water so high now, when the tide starts to flow in again, in two or three hours’ time, this part of the wall may well be breached. And if the sea comes over with enough force, it could wash away the wall itself. This is actually very worrying, because there are quite a number of places, on both sides of the river, where there are natural dips in the sea wall, all the way upriver towards Tilbury and Rainham. Maybe even towards London.”

  Sarah Varley woke at half past six every morning. She was always first in the bathroom, to ensure that she could get her husband and her son up and off to work and to school on time. On Thursday morning, when she woke, she immediately remembered that Michael was away in London in order to be present at the conference this morning. She then suddenly remembered that David came home very late the previous evening, with his girlfriend, Jackie.

  I’ll have to get then both up as early as possible, so that I can run Jackie back home in time to get ready for college, she thought.

  She got out of bed, put on her dressing gown and went to the bathroom. As soon as she finished her shower, she quickly dressed and went onto the landing. She tapped on the spare bedroom door. There was no response. Quietly, she opened the door. The bed was still made and was obviously unused. Little monkeys, she thought. She tapped on David’s door.

  Before going to bed, Jackie and David went to the kitchen to have a quick cup of tea, before returning upstairs. As they reached the spare bedroom door, David indicated to Jackie that she should come into his bedroom. Without a second thought, as though it was the most normal thing in the world, she walked in, shrugged off the nightie and got into David’s bed. Quick as a flash, he followed, where they snuggled up to each other and, exhausted with the hour and their recent adventures, they fell asleep in each other’s arms.

  During the night, David had stirred twice, first to slip his arm from under Jackie’s head and later to move slightly to give her more room in the bed. As they settled to sleep, Jackie turned over, bent her legs and arched her back. She felt completely relaxed with his knees behind hers, his stomach warming her lower back, one of his arms over her waist with his hand cupping one of her breasts, while his other arm was under her neck and head. Contentedly, she had squirmed her body against his feeling his half erect penis against her bottom.

  When she heard the tapping at the door, she jumped. She felt David get out of the bed and, turning over, watched him slip on his dressing gown. As he opened the door, the landing light lit up Jackie’s face with hair splayed out over the pillow.

  “Oh! Hi, Mum.” He looked directly at his mother, expecting some immediate reprimand and was somewhat taken aback when she simply asked, “Did you both sleep all right? I expect you found that bed rather small for the two of you!”

  “It was fine,” Jackie replied. “We must have been real
ly tired because I went out like a light.”

  “Me too,” added David quickly.

  Keeping her face straight, Sarah told them that it was now almost seven o’clock and that she thought it would be best for her to drive Jackie back home, so that she could get ready for college. “I sent your mother a text last night before I went to bed. I got a reply almost instantly, so I expect she was still waiting up for to hear from you. She thanked me for letting her know the situation. I’ll phone her as soon as you’ve started your breakfast. Don’t take too long.”

  As she went downstairs, David shut the bedroom door and turned on the light. Jackie sat up in the bed, with the duvet across her waist and legs. She stretched, raising both elbows level with her shoulders, clasping her hands behind her head and, arching her back, she pushed her head and shoulders back as far as they would go. The effect on David was startling, as he watched her breasts being pushed forward and her stomach tightening.

  “There’s no time for that,” exclaimed Jackie with a giggle, seeing the effect she was having on him. “Come on! Let’s get a shower.” She slipped out of bed, walked quickly to the door, opened it and went to the bathroom. “Come on!” she repeated, as David just watched her, mouth agape.

  Alice woke before Michael. She raised herself up on one elbow, listening to the rain beating against the window and looked at the displayed time on her iPhone. It was twenty past six. She slipped carefully out of the bed, not wanting to disturb Michael, who was sleeping deeply in the foetal position. It was warm in the room and, naked, she padded across the floor to the bathroom, where she cleaned her teeth and showered.

  Emerging once more from the bedroom, she had a towel round her hair and a second around her body. She crossed the floor to the window and peeked through the curtains. It was still dark outside and rain was streaming down the windowpane. She watched the wind blowing through the tree on the other side of the road. That’s really strong, she thought. Letting the curtain fall back into place, she sat at the dressing table and began to apply her makeup.