by Heide Goody
Someone has put something foul and rotten in the food waste. I will be reviewing the CCTV footage to determine who did this. Please respect the fact that you live in a community and take more care with your household hygiene. Yours, Bernadette Brampton (Residents’ Association)
Wow, at least I wasn’t the only one who’d upset Bernadette with a crime against rubbish. She must be very bored.
As I opened the door, the delicious smell of sausages came to me and it was clear that Ashbert was still in residence. He came out of the kitchen and smiled. From behind his back he produced a small bunch of flowers with a ta-da.
“I got you freesias,” he grinned.
I was momentarily speechless. How did he know I liked freesias? I can’t remember telling anybody that, even Cookie.
“They’re lovely!” I said. He kissed me briefly.
“Let me put them in water and check these sausages,” he said.
I followed him into the kitchen.
“Lexi, can you play some music?” he said, turning the sausages under the grill.
“Yes, what would you like?” said Lexi.
“Play some McFly, it’s Lori’s favourite,” said Ashbert. He turned to me as the music started and handed me a bottle of cider.
I looked at the label. “Wow, this takes me back, I used to drink this stuff all the time.”
“You don’t drink it anymore?” he asked.
“I might choose wine more of the time now,” I said tactfully, “but this is a lovely change. Yum.” I sipped the powerful, gassy stuff and wondered how to ask him about this. “How do you know all of these things?”
He shrugged. “I just do. I think you told me, before.”
That made no sense at all. I met him for the first time two days ago. I tried a different question.
“Where did you come from? Where were you before you came here, you know, through the window?”
He frowned, taking a swig from his own bottle of cider. “Interesting. It’s like if apple juice had an evil twin.”
“You must remember something,” I said. “How do you know how to cook sausages?”
“Everyone knows how to do that,” he laughed.
“I don’t,” I said. “You must have learned somewhere.”
“I guess,” he said with a smile. He’d turned the full wattage of his charm onto me now. “I only know what I know, and one thing that I do know, is that you’re in need of a foot rub after a day’s work. I’ll turn these sausages down for a few minutes.”
A foot rub sounded good. I let him lead me to the comfiest chair. He kneeled in front of me and slipped off my shoes so that my feet were in his lap, and he rubbed them, while he gazed into my eyes. It was a powerful aphrodisiac, and almost made me forget about the sausages, but the smell was so good. I found myself licking my lips, not even sure whether I was experiencing food lust or just regular lust.
Something rustled on the floor in the corner, but I couldn’t pull my eyes away from Ashbert’s. Let it wait, whatever it was. As long as it wasn’t a mini-president or diddy dictator-for-life, I couldn’t care less.
Ashbert gave my feet a final caress and stood up. “Let’s eat,” he said.
“It smells so good,” I said. “When I left, the place was stinking of that nasty stuff I brought back from holiday.”
“I emptied the bin,” he said with a wink.
‘I emptied the bin’. Four powerful words and almost – almost! – as sexy as a foot rub. Whatever weirdness surrounded his sudden appearance, he was:
a) incredibly hot
b) dedicated to doing whatever would make me happy
c) impossibly knowledgeable about what would make me happy
d) incredibly hot
The sausages were as good as the ones my mom makes, and that is not the sort of comparison that I would make lightly. The gravy was strong and thick, and he’d even scooped the mash into little hillocks on my plate, so that the whole thing looked like a fantasy landscape with the mixed veg forming a rocky coastline. Presentation is important, and he knew just how I liked it. I held back from making the sausages into little towers on the hill tops because sophisticated and mysterious women don’t do that. I don’t think his eyes left mine for the entire meal. It was so fantastically erotic that it almost took my mind off the food, but he’d bought brown sauce to go with it, which obviously takes any meal to another level. We had bowls of ice cream afterwards, with wafer biscuits. By the time I’d eaten the meal and finished the bottle of high alcohol cider I was stuffed. Ashbert cleared the plates from the table and his lips drifted across the back of my neck as he went past.
“I got us something to read,” he said as he came back in.
Reading? Really? I had other things on my mind. He pulled a book out of a bag and handed it to me. I looked at the cover: Sizzling Sex Positions for Adventurous Lovers. I smiled up at him, knowing that we were perfectly in tune with each other.
“You choose,” he said. “We’ll work our way through them all. We can start a new page every night.”
I flicked through the images, lingering over the ones that looked as though they might work with a full stomach. This evening was turning out to be more magical than I would have thought possible.
Chapter 12
After I’d been doing the cleaning job for a few days, Rex eased up on his spot checks. Nonetheless, in that time, I had managed to collect thirty-two paperclips, eight pieces of gum, seventy-two pence in loose change and a small plastic dragon. I’ve no idea how many of them were left by Rex to test me but I collected them diligently all the same. He still made sure that he gave me a little pep talk every time our paths crossed, but he never mentioned anything about me vandalising the exhibits, so I guessed that James hadn’t told him. I’d become faster at the cleaning as well, mainly because I’d discovered which cloths and tools were best for each job. It’s a skill that will never leave me now, and I felt absurdly proud. I really wanted to tell my parents what I’d learned, but I was no closer to finding them. Cookie and I had spent our lunch hours putting up more of the posters that I’d made, but we’d seen no results.
“Do you think I need to rework the colour scheme?” I asked her, as we walked over to put up a fresh batch.
“You know colour, Lori,” she said. “I think this one’s as eye-catching as it’s going to get. Maybe the people that see it just don’t have the answers you seek.”
“Yeah, well someone knows,” I grumbled.
“Your brother knows,” Cookie said. “You could try being nice to him.”
I stuck my tongue out at her. It was my standard Adam response, but I guess she had a point. I tried not to think about it. I wasn’t ready to suck up to Adam-shiny-superstar. I changed the subject.
“Ashbert’s treating me tonight. We’re having a ‘sensual playtime’.”
“I thought you guys were having that, like, every evening?” said Cookie.
“Well we are having a lot of sensual stuff, yeah,” I said, “but he’s laying on something extra tonight.”
“Cool,” said Cookie. “You having sausage again?” She waggled her eyebrows suggestively and I rolled my eyes at her.
As I went home later, I pondered the same question. Ashbert was so keen to treat me to all of my favourite things that he’d cooked sausages every night. If I didn’t say something soon, I might start oinking.
As I opened the door, McFly’s Five Colours in her Hair was already playing. Ashbert appeared from the kitchen, wearing an apron. He was wearing nothing else, which was a good look for him. He had a glass of red wine in his hand for me. He’d taken care to move to wine after I’d said that I now prefer it to cider, which was good, but perhaps I ought to say something about not necessarily having it all the time. He kissed me, and put an immediate stop to that train of thought. I spent a few happy moments enjoying his attention, but I really needed to go to the toilet, so I moved away towards the bathroom.
“How was your day?” he asked, still not b
reaking eye contact. The intensity of his gaze, the way he didn’t take his eyes off me, was mostly adorable. But right now, it was a bit annoying. I needed the loo.
“Great. Back in a moment,” I said, closing the door.
When I opened it again, he was still standing there, the wine glass still raised as he offered it to me. I took it, trying to shake off the mild feeling of irritation at his hanging around. I went through to the kitchen where sausages with onion gravy was making another appearance.
“Your favourite!” he said.
I nodded, trying not to look too lacklustre at the sure knowledge that I’d be awake half the night with indigestion.
I saw that he’d made a neat pile of potato peelings and other things in a small container.
“What’s that?” I asked.
“Oh, I read the residents’ handbook to make sure we sort the waste correctly. Food waste is collected weekly, and these caddies are provided for our convenience.”
“Wow, you’ve gone to a lot of trouble,” I said. “What’s all these orangey bits?”
“It’s swede,” he said. “The mixed vegetables have swede in them and I know you don’t like swede so I picked them out.”
I’m pretty sure my mouth actually dropped open. I was aghast. “I’m not a massive fan of swede, it’s true, but everyone knows that you eat your veggies. It’s just a thing you do. It’s like life, isn’t it? You take the rough with the smooth. You appreciate the carrots and the peas more because you’ve just had a bit of swede!”
Did that sound like one of Cookie’s philosophical ramblings? I wasn’t sure, but I realised that it did sound like someone being horrible and ungrateful. Ashbert looked crestfallen. No, he looked more than that. He looked as if I’d taken away his very reason for living.
“Sorry. I know you’ve gone to a lot of trouble,” I said.
He continued to stare at me. I realised with a shock that he’d stared at me for every single moment that we’d been together. It had made our early encounters sizzling hot, but in the context of my minor outburst and his hangdog expression it was kind of creepy and weird. In fact, I realised, it had started to become weird a couple of days ago when I was struggling to pull my knickers on. Most people would look away for a moment, give me time to get my act together, but Ashbert had been staring deep into my eyes throughout, forcing me to turn it into a full-blown clown routine to save face.
I took a deep breath. I’d think about this later, but right now there were sausages to eat and a naked chef who wanted to please me so much that I felt a physical pain at the sadness in his eyes.
“Well I’m starving!” I lied. “Shall we eat?”
I made it through another round of sausages with onion gravy. I was quite proud. I stood up to clear the plates but he put a hand on my arm.
“Wait, there’s another surprise. I made heart-shaped chocolate mousse for after. We can feed each other with our spoons!”
I started to protest that I was too full, but the words died on my lips. I just needed to get this over with.
“Lovely!” I said.
He put the dishes down and we each took up a spoonful. We reached across, drawing closer to each other and put the spoons into each other’s mouths. I closed my eyes as I ate the mousse. It seemed like a good way to show that I was really enjoying it as well as having a moment’s relief from the intensity of his stare. As I opened my eyes, something moved in my peripheral vision.
“Did you see that?” I asked.
“No, what?”
“Something just went under the fridge.”
“I only have eyes for you,” he said.
Perhaps it was a spider. Never mind. My more immediate worry was that if I ate all of this chocolate mousse, I might explode.
“This is so… hot,” I said. “Maybe we should skip the rest and go straight to the bedroom?”
He nodded and we stood. Thank goodness, I could have a lie down, at least! I hurried through so I could get to Sizzling Sex Positions for Adventurous Lovers first, and choose something gentle.
“I’ve bookmarked the ones we haven’t done yet!” he called as he followed me. “I thought we should work our way through from the start of the book.”
Oh no! I paged through frantically. The first position he’d bookmarked featured the woman doing the splits up the wall. That was never going to happen, even on a good day. I looked at the next one, which was a wheelbarrow, where I had to do a handstand and have him hold me up by my legs. God no! What else was there? The next one wasn’t even going to be possible. It featured a horizontal bar where I was supposed to hang upside down from my knees. At least that one wouldn’t – oh. I looked up and saw him smiling at me from the doorway, where a horizontal bar was wedged in the frame. The apron had gone by now, and he was clearly excited by the prospect of us swinging in the doorframe.
“Home gym equipment,” he said. “Shall we try it out?”
I started to stammer a reply but he held up a hand. “First things first. I’ve got sensual oil for a lovely massage.”
He held out a large bottle of oil and I grinned with relief.
“A massage. That sounds wonderful!” I said.
I spread myself out on the bed and he started to apply oil to my back. He rubbed it in lightly.
“More oil,” I said, on the basis that it would make the whole thing last longer if he had to rub in lots of oil. I felt it pooling in the small of my back and he smoothed it into my skin. He’d thoughtfully put towels on the bed so I rolled over after a few minutes to let him baste my front as well. There was so much excess oil that I slathered my hands with it and rubbed some into his chest. In truth, this oil malarkey was a lot of fun. When we swapped positions, I upended the bottle onto his chest and sloshed on more oil. There was hardly any left in the bottle. I ran my hands quickly over his body, spreading the oil so that it didn’t all run onto the towels.
“You’re like a gleaming, shiny goddess,” he said, as I leaned over him.
I tried not to let my mind counter him with ill-timed thoughts about me being more like an oven-ready turkey. It was a lovely thing to say.
“Shall we try the bar?” he said, nodding towards the door frame.
“No rush,” I said, slowly massaging in some more oil, “let’s take it nice and slowly.”
“We can take things slowly over there,” he said. He seemed very keen on the bar.
“Okay, tiger, hold your horses,” I said. “How do we know it’s going to take my weight?”
He kissed me. “It will take your weight. I was very careful when I put it up. In fact, I’ll prove it. He stood up and walked over to it. The bar was level with his nose. He grasped the bar and swung his legs up and over in a single fluid motion. He hung from his knees and grinned at me, upside down.
“See?” he said. Then I saw his smile falter. I could see that the bar was made of tough, ribbed plastic, but it clearly wasn’t a match for the lubricating power of the oil. He slowly lost his grip and slid face-first onto the floor with an almighty thwack.
He grunted in pain and writhed on the floor, clutching his nose.
“Oh, my God. Are you hurt?”
He lifted his hands to look and blood dribbled off his chin.
“Christ. Stay there!” I said, and scrambled off the bed. What I hadn’t realised was how much oil was now smeared across the laminate flooring. I managed three steps before my feet skidded from underneath me and I landed heavily beside Ashbert. Right on my coccyx. I was winded for a few long moments, torn between rubbing my aching bum and trying to get my breath. I tried to push myself up, but I couldn’t get any purchase.
“There’s too much oil!” I complained.
“You said you like the oil!”
“There can be too much of a good thing!” I replied. (And I wasn’t just talking about oil, was I?)
Everything was covered in oil. My hands, my feet, the floor. I got my hand flat on the floor, but when I shifted my weight, it skated out from under
me. I was completely marooned, and Ashbert wasn’t helping at all, as he was doing the same as me, but had managed to mix blood into the oil from his nosebleed. We were like a couple of seals flopping up and down. I tried something different. I wriggled forward on my belly, like a snake.
It worked!
“Follow me, try doing it like this!” I called.
From the wet, slurping noises, I could tell that he too was making his way along the floor. From above we must have resembled an alien invasion of hopeless slugs. An evolutionary dead end if ever there was one. I slithered along the short section of corridor and into the bathroom, Ashbert behind me. The radiator in the bathroom was shaped like a ladder so that you could put towels onto it, and I aimed for it, with a view to hanging on and dragging myself upright. I was almost there when a creature scuttled out from behind the toilet and ran across my hand.
It was an indescribable horror!
That’s not true. It was a reasonably describable horror: part crab, part beetle. Kind of like an armadillo that had been forced through a small letterbox. More than anything, it resembled a giant woodlouse with extra legs that rippled weirdly when it moved.
I screamed. I don’t mean I shouted. I mean I sodding screamed.
“Holy buggering fucksticks!”
I slithered backwards as fast as I could. Of course, I collided with Ashbert, who had no idea what I was yelling about and simply got a faceful of my arse.
“Giant fucking insect thing!” I screamed. I turned around and part-climbed, part-slid over the top of him as he wasn’t moving fast enough for my liking.
“Wow, I wonder what it is?” he said.
“I don’t care what it is, it was trying to eat my face!” I said, slowing up, now I was outside the bathroom.
“It doesn’t look dangerous,” said Ashbert, shortly followed by “Waaaaah!”
The creature appeared, scurrying over his head and down his back. It was heading straight for me again, so I developed a new way of moving. I did a variant of the butterfly swimming stroke – without water of course – flinging my arms out and levering myself along the floor. I’d have bruises to show for it later, but I wasn’t hanging around to let the insectoid vampire suck out my eyeballs or whatever it wanted to do. I crashed along the floor into the kitchen where I finally managed to haul myself to my feet. I grabbed a tea towel and tried to wipe some of the oil off me and then I tipped everything out of the pedal bin, so that I could use it to trap the demon insectoid. I didn’t want to touch the thing, so I grabbed a sieve as well.
