5
Diane clicked across the oak hardwood floor, under the expansive open curved stair and into the kitchen which was in the middle of a massive open plan living space. The two external corner ‘walls’ were fully glazed and looked out high above the city. Carla didn't look round but knew what was coming. Diane slowly and gently moved her hands around Carla’s waist coming to rest on her soft smooth stomach. Carla grasped her silky auburn main and pulled it round towards her breasts. Her head flopped forward in anticipation and as expected Diane breathed the faintest of kisses on the nape of her neck. Carla shivered and the tension that had been in her shoulders was gone.
“Hello, you!” whispered Diane.
“Jesssssus, that felt good.”
Carla turned and tugged at Diane’s silk blouse pulling it free from the waistband of her skirt. She slid her hands in, up and around Diane’s back towards the catch of her Ultimo.
“Oh! no! no! no! you don't. not yet.” Diane had managed to escape her clutches and was giggling like a schoolgirl. “You're like a bloody octopus.” She continued to laugh and kicked off her heels. She knew what was coming and glanced towards the staircase.
“Oh! yeah! You come waltzing in late, get me all revved up and then put the brakes on.”
Carla cupped both hands and spread her fingers as she reached out towards Diane’s bum. It was a good bum and one which you could bounce a pound coin off. Diane’s eyes popped and screeching she ran for the stairs. Carla loved this bit, chasing her up the stairs without actually ever intending to catch her. The excitement and panic of being chased was the only time Diane wasn't quite in charge of her senses. Diane slammed the bathroom door shut and the lock clicked. Carla walked slowly back downstairs holding her stomach and laughing and then laughing again. Half an hour later Diane reappeared, fully refreshed and wearing her a brand new onesie with OITNB emblazoned across the back.
“Seriously?” enquired Carla.
“I got you one as well.”
“You know I don't go in for advertising,” said Carla. “You know I’m proud, just not loud.”
“They’re just for us at home, a bit of a laugh, I never get to dress down.”
“Ok, deal! But You're gonna have to wear something a bit more….va va voom, later.”
“Seafood first, sex later.”
Carla pulled Diane towards her and ran her fingers through her still wet hair.
“Let's eat,” said Carla.
Seafood linguine with a tomato, chilli sauce: mussels, king prawns, squid and some whole cherry tomatoes. On the side was a Mediterranean salad with more than a sensible amount of olives. Carla was a fantastic cook. She loved watching Rick Stein but was very much a natural and rarely needed to follow a recipe. On the table was a bottle of crisply chilled Marlborough Sauvignon.
“How come you were so late?”
“Zoe called in a panic, I couldn’t not go.”
“Gawd! What was it this time, a broken nail?”
“You know how bad a time she’s been having?”
“I wish you wouldn't just go to her. I don't trust her. She’s a user. And….”
“And what?”
“And... I think she would jump you at the first chance.”
“Ooooh! Jealous are we?”
“Shut up!”
“You aaaare jealous! But you trust me don't you?”
“Of course I do. It’s her I don't trust.”
“Why not get to know her. She’s lovely. She would help anybody, really!”
“Dario doesn't think she is too lovely.”
“What has he been saying?”
“That she’s a selfish cow and a gold digger, I heard him talking to one of the yard workers.”
“You don't usually go along with what Dario says?”
“I know. I know. He is a prick and I don't trust him as you are well aware.”
“So why trust him on this?”
“I suppose...it's because...I just don't like her. I so wish she didn't know you.”
“But you know she is completely straight?”
“So she says. I used to think I was straight till I met you.”
Diane choked on her wine as she laughed.
“What's so funny?”
“She’s man daft. We grew up together remember.”
“But she kissed you on the dance floor, you already told me that.”
“That was her way of getting a guy steamed up. You know what guys are like with us lezzers, they always think they can fix us. Let’s not fall out, it's you I love. It's you I want. End of.”
Carla picked at her food and Diane watched her closely. Carla wanted the Z to be an X and out of their life. Diane worried that Carla might not believe all she had said despite it being completely true. Even at the age of twenty-nine Carla had an insecurity about her more akin to a teenager. Her youthful lust for life and love had made Diane feel special for the first time. They had been together for four years and not for the first time Diane had been surprised by such a conversation. Carla had a dark side to her that Diane had not yet got to the bottom of.
As Diane cleared the table Carla wandered over to the verandah door. From high up in the duplex, she watched as the city lights danced with the rain. Sliding the door open allowed a barrage of noise to flood in from the streets below. She quickly closed it and turned to Diane.
“Let's move.”
“Move?”
“Yeah! To the coast.”
“How can we? What about work?”
“We could get a dog.”
“I repeat, what about work?”
“Walk on the beach every day.”
Diane laughed. “You’ve gone off on one I think?”
“I’m serious, what’s really stopping us.”
“Maybe in a few years. I would love that. Love it for us.”
Carla had a picture in her mind. Her parents had owned a tiny cottage by the sea when she was growing up. She had so many fantastic memories of holidays there with her sisters. Making up stories and eating midnight snacks before eventually drifting off to sleep. Next morning the seagulls provided the early alarm call and they were back on the beach with a gang of kids, all on school holidays. Some she saw every year while others never returned. This had been the best time for her and now she was with Diane she wanted it back. She knew it couldn't really be the same but maybe the next best thing.
“We goin up?”
“Yeah! I’m bushed.”
Diane was sitting up in bed reading her book with a pile of pillows behind her. Carla started to undress. Diane had watched her do this a thousand times but just couldn't stop herself from watching again. She was slightly taller than Diane but she mostly avoided heels for that reason. She was a size 12 in a trouser with a lovely pert bum and a size 10 in a top. She could maybe have passed for a younger Kate Moss and certainly had her breasts, which Diane adored. Carla slipped into a champagne silk chemise. Her hair fell forward over her right shoulder and then she stretched her arms high up behind her. Leaning back like a gymnast the chemise melted against each and every contour of her body. Her hair fell back and draped towards the floor. Diane knew she was being teased and loved every second of it.
“You’re staring again. You know you are embarrassing me?”
“Sorry, just can't help it.”
“I like it, really.”
“Get in here.”
Carla skipped two steps and launched herself onto the bed like a twelve-year-old.
They kissed intensely and an hour later they were spooning and dreaming in tandem.
6
Harry was engrossed in his attempts to help the team complete Trojan - Mission Critical. He was leading up a squad of six through the Caves of Bracht on the planet Kroba. They had managed to get access to the cavern, without being detected, by hijacking a bulk waste container ship. The crew had been eliminated to avoid scanners picking up additional life forms. They had just six hours to dump the waste, complete the task a
nd get off the planet. Otherwise, the security system would initiate a Fragmentation Wave which would again purge all organic and inorganic matter on the surface of the planet.
Harry was edging forward flanked by his international Strike Team. His 2IC was Jian, a Chinese kid who was ten years old and a Healer. Above him on a ledge was Alex, a New Yorker aged 13, a Sniper and one of the most aggressive players Harry had encountered. She sometimes had to be reigned in, otherwise, she could easily, have been team leader.
Suddenly he was grabbed from behind by a ‘giant squid’ which kissed him on his head.
“Aww muuum! For christ sake!” He clicked the keyboard “Com H, AFK.”
“AFK! Away from keyboard,” said, Margaret, as she headed to the kitchen. “I’m getting the hang of this,” she added while laughing.
“You could’ve got us all killed,” he shouted and returned to the game, “Com H. BAK.”
“Dinner will be ready at half five, plenty of time to save the universe.”
She started preparing the cheesy, mincy, pasta which was his favourite. She couldn't get Droopy’s face out of her head. She looked at the note and wondered if Harry could cope with the task. She was sure he could but what about the next time and the time after that. She knew she couldn't become a slave to Droopy. He was a bully, but like all bullies, he liked dominating a situation until someone bit back. She wondered if her bite was big enough but if not she had a rottweiler on her side, the Boss.
“We crashed and burned, team wiped out, my fault,” said Harry
“Sorry, was that me?”
“No, not really, we were struggling before your intervention.”
“Intervention? Ha! I’m an intervention am I?”
“You know what I mean. What’s for dinner?”
“C. M. P.”
“Yes! With G. B?”
“Of course. Wouldn't be the same without the garlic bread.”
Margaret poured herself a glass of Rioja and breathed in the fragrance. She swirled it around her mouth to catch the full flavour. Harry watched her and could see she was savouring the moment.
“What is it with wine? I don't get it.”
“What d’you mean? When did you try it?”
“I scoff some every day before you get home.”
“I can assure you, I would notice.”
“Not after a couple of glasses, you wouldn’t.”
“You are so cheeky.” Margaret was amused. “You might find some chillies in your pasta if you're not careful.”
“How was work? Lots of satisfied customers?”
Margaret hated that question and it always caused a pang of guilt.
“Never mind my day, how was school?”
“I’d be better off at home.”
“What happened?”
“Same as always. Some teachers just can't handle the wasters. They spend most of the time out in the corridor chatting.”
“Did you get homework?”
“English and maths, already done it. Honestly, I know more about computing than the teachers.”
“There’s more to school than computers.”
“But it's where I’m heading.”
“You need other qualifications.”
“I’ll get what I need, promise.”
“You could cut out some game time?”
“You don't get it, do you?”
“Get what?”
“The importance of gaming.”
“Importance? It ain't going to get you through an interview is it?”
“Google it! You’ll be amazed. It’s all about life skills in a high-pressure environment.”
“But it's not real.”
“It's virtual. You learn coordination, how to plan, how to work at pace but with caution, team building and team play. Will I go on?”
Margaret had watched him in action a few times but had been oblivious to what was really happening.
“Virtual training, from supermarkets to armies, it's the future,” he added.
“Ok, you’ve convinced me! But just make sure you don't get behind with school.”
Margaret wanted to ask him about the demand from Droopy but was going to sleep on that decision. Paddy would have sorted this if he was still alive. He might have been an alcoholic and a mad gambler but he was always protective of her and Harry. She had changed so much in the past ten years but for the better. Harry was only five when he went missing. She thought he had just gone on a bender and would turn up after a day or two. He did eventually pop up at a weir, some five miles downstream from the bridge, in the town centre, over the river Audren. It was just a few minutes walk from the Black Bull. When found, Paddy had a high blood-alcohol level which he had most of the time. There were also traces of temazepam which really surprised Margaret. On top of everything else, he had a nasty bump on his head, consistent with a fall. The coroner had closed the case as an unfortunate accident. There had been a life policy which Margaret had paid over the years as she knew if left to Paddy that money would have been ‘reallocated’. She was safe in her home which was paid off and she was earning a very tidy living. She wondered how long she could work as a CSR. It was fine being a MILF but eventually, she would become too old for that. She thought about that for a moment.
“Ginf,” she said quietly to herself as if considering the option.
“What is it?” Harry looked at her confused.
“Nothing. Eat up. There’s more if you want it?”
GINF she thought. ‘Granny I’d Never…’ That amused her and she had a picture of herself turning up to see clients with a zimmer.
They washed the dishes together despite having a dishwasher. They did this at least once a week and as a reward, she paid him sensible pocket money to help him with his computing, both educational and gaming. He always complained but she was sure he didn't mind. She wanted him to understand the value of money and the need to have a respect in a relationship. His Dad had been no kind of role model but at least that influence hadn't had time to develop.
Harry went off to his room to ‘study’ as he put it. Margaret sat by the table and opened up her laptop. ‘How to knock someone out instantly’. Google flashed up the endless list of near results. She chose one claiming to be a Forum. The first ‘forumee’ had offered a two-word reply ‘Baseball Bat’. She always checked forums as there was often a sensible answer but she knew she was going to have to wade through the clowns first. Eventually, she searched on chloroform and ether but soon realised that it wasn't what you saw in the movies. People didn't instantly pass out as soon as a bit of soaked cotton wool was held over their face. It took at least five minutes and even then it evaporates away rapidly and has to be constantly topped up. She searched the sedatives and thought she may be able to offer Droopy a drink and spike it if it came to that. Or, maybe she could pay him? After seven years of looking after satisfied customers she a decent portfolio of investments. She finished her second glass of Rioja and shut the laptop down.
She had one appointment for tomorrow. Cheryl rarely worked on a Saturday unless it was a proper escort call and tomorrow it was. Not only that, it was Hugh, tall, medium build, black hair. His smile always warmed her through while his throaty Scots accent gave her pleasant chills. He was six years older than her but didn't look it. She had been to several ‘posh’ evenings with him and had loved being there as a friend and business partner, as he always described her. She had fancied him from the first meeting and tried to imagine a new life with him. He had been slow to take full advantage of the heavy escort fee he was paying and it had taken a bit of subtle nudging from her to get him into bed. He still seemed to think she was there with him in a paid capacity and that her highly excited finish was a ‘Sleepless in Seattle’ moment, but she knew it wasn't.
She didn't have a nickname for Hugh and had forgotten about Droopy for now. She locked up for the night and headed off to bed.
“Don't be playing that game all night,” she called from the hall.
&
nbsp; “I won't,” Harry replied, knowing he would.
7
Bob was drinking coffee and full of smiles when Zoe walked into the kitchen.
“Looks like you won last night?” Zoe gave him a big smile and got up on her tiptoes to give him a kiss.
“Yeah, it was indeed a good night. I had hoped you might have been in our room.”
”I thought about it but, too much vino and a sore head. Anyway, I’ve no chance of my beauty sleep with your snoring.”
“I wasn't thinking about sleeping and you don't need it.”
“Smooth talker! I promise, soon, just stressed with this phone stuff.”
Bob wanted to catch up with Dario to find out how things had gone with Smith but there were so many other things to sort. He didn't want Zoe to know but there was a problem with the CCTV and although he thought the whole stalker thing was probably a crank from her past he had to make sure it was available for him to monitor when he wasn't home. Several times over the past few weeks he noticed the multiplex control panel was showing a lost link. When he checked for loss of recording there were plenty of gaps. His phone was supposed to notify him when someone was in the vicinity of the main door but so far Jane, the maid, had it had managed to get in and out on several occasions without him realising. At least, for now, it was there as a deterrent but he would be happier when it was working properly. An email and two phone calls to the company which had fitted it had so far been ignored. ‘Service First’ was their motto and that worked perfectly until they got their money. That was probably going to have to wait till Monday and be a personal visit to their premises. He hated ‘tradesmen’; unreliable pricks, every one of them, he thought to himself.
The carpet needed to be cleaned and that had been a quick phone call and sorted before coffee.
“I spoke to ‘Eziclean’, they will be here about twelve.”
“I’m going out,” said Zoe.
“You never said.”
“Hair and nails, I’ll take the Range Rover.”
Dead End Page 3
