by steve higgs
There are conflicting reports regarding all the detail, but it seems likely that the pirates knew they would be shown no mercy so scuppered their own ship and rode it to the bottom.
Okay, so what did that actually tell me? That a pirate ship possibly did sink not far from Cawsand and may have indeed contained treasure. So, what?
The question never got an answer as I fell asleep, fully clothed and on my back, probably snoring like a warthog with sore balls. It was 1642hrs when Dozer woke me up nudging the edge of the bed. It was getting close to their appointed dinner time and he wanted to be fed.
Coming awake, I realised that I needed to get moving: I had to get clean, walk the dogs and have a shave because I had a date tonight.
Date at the Jolly Roger Inn. Monday, October 31st 1927hrs
Just as I was about to open the door to go down and wait for Roberta in the bar there was a polite and gentle knock on the door. The dogs started barking and leapt from their position on the bed behind me to repel the invader behind the door. My hand was mere inches from the knob, so I grasped and turned it almost before she had a chance to take her hand away.
The dogs were running across the floor but skidded to a halt as I turned to them and crouched down. I fielded them both, certain that behind me was Roberta and she would be nicely dressed for dinner out and unwelcoming of stupid sausages climbing her legs.
‘I was just coming down.’ I started to say as I turned around holding the dogs, but the words mostly died on my lips because Roberta was dressed as a slightly slutty pirate. I say slightly slutty because her boobs were still in her dress, yet they could not have been shoved further up towards her chin without hanging her upside down.
Her costume consisted of a pair of thigh-length, black leather boots with big shiny buckles stuck to them, a tight bodice that was doing the job of lifting her chest, a short skirt and a long, floating shirt that was open to reveal her cleavage. To accessorise the outfit, she had included a convincing looking cutlass and an old flintlock pistol tucked into a wide belt that went around her tiny waist.
Stand by to be boarded. Arrrr! Cried Mr. Wriggly. I was expecting him to make a comment about cannon balls next.
‘It’s Halloween, Tempest.’ she said to my confused expression. ‘I brought an outfit for you as well. We are going to a party. I needed a date.’ She held out her right hand, which had a bag of clothing in it. ‘Quick, get changed or we will be late.’
Dumbfounded, or at last unable to form a coherent response, I plopped the dogs back onto the floor and took the clothes from her. The dogs fussed around her feet as I wandered to the bed taking the clothes from the bag.
I could sense my ire rising and was trying to quell it. Not a fan of being told what to do, her willingness to do exactly that, even in a playful, flirtatious manner was getting to me. I shoved the clothes back in the bag and turned around to face the door once more. She was coming in now though with the dogs following her.
‘Quickly, Tempest.’ she instructed, which was more or less the last straw. Then, just when I was opening my mouth to tell her I was not interested in dressing up, she started speaking again, ‘I’m planning to see you naked later, so you might as well get changed in front of me now.’
Like a cutlass being raised for battle, Mr. Wriggly was instantly awake and ready to do harm. My protest died on my lips.
‘I’ll tell you what, I will turn around to protect your modesty while you change.’ She was making a big joke of it, all the while smiling at me. I had already placed the bag of clothes on the bed and untucked my shirt. Now she crossed the rest of the room, kissed me lightly on the lips then went to the window and made a show of not watching me undress.
FFS.
Getting some gumption back, I tore off my clothes, telling Mr. Wriggly to shut up and go back to sleep. He begrudgingly obeyed. She was watching me change in the reflection from the window, which was fine and formed a sort of early foreplay, but when I got to my trousers it seemed better to turn around and hide the semi-erect penis still struggling to come up to snorkelling depth. He, in turn, assured me that just one glance at his magnificence would have her back across the room demanding that he be set free. The costume, it turned out, was a Mr. Smeed outfit from Peter Pan. I was going to look very much like an utter twat.
A minute later I was dressed, and she was applying finishing touches to my outfit – a clip-on earring, a touch of eyeliner. I had asked her where we were going and had been advised that it was a secret. There was something a little unsettling about her dominance in our relationship. She was making all the decisions, telling me what to do, telling me what to wear. I wondered if she was going to pay for dinner, show me a great night out then expect sex and leave me some money in the morning so I could buy myself something pretty. I was telling myself it wasn't like that though and what I was witness to, was a woman with a mind of her own and the confidence to go after what she wanted. Right now, that was me, so I should play my part and enjoy my brief interaction with her.
Nevertheless, once she decided I was ready to be seen at her Halloween party, wherever or whatever it might be, I stood up from where she had me sitting on the bed to apply my makeup. I towered over her at almost exactly six feet. She tilted her head right back to look at me, so I grasped her gently but firmly around her tiny waist and lifted her into the air to kiss her. The move instantly reversed the roles. I gave the kiss all I had. It was a proper kiss, deep and slow and with lots of suggestion of passion to follow. Helpless in my arms she returned the kiss with equal hunger, but I put her down again when I was done.
‘Come on, let’s go.’ I said, taking her hand and pulling her towards the door.
‘Hey, who’s in charge around here?’ she asked laughing as we went out and left the dogs slumbering on the bed.
The one with the vagina is, said Mr. Wriggly. Always.
Our destination was The Jolly Roger public house on Finnygook lane in Portwrinkle. They had there a Halloween extravaganza, which it turned out meant they had decorated the place and laid on a buffet of beige food. The place was packed though with people in fancy dress. I was glad she had found me a costume, even if it was a bit crap because at least by wearing it I didn't stick out as the only person in the room without one.
During the short drive, I had breathed in the scent of her perfume and revelled in how delicate her body seemed. Her neck was slender and graceful, not to mention flawless and it led down to her chest, which heaved each time she breathed simply because her boobs were basically sitting on top of her outfit like it was a shelf. I realised then that this was the first time in a month that I had looked at a woman and not immediately compared her to Amanda.
I had been besotted by Amanda from the moment I met her. Amanda was exactly what I would wish for if chaps were allowed to design their dream woman. She oozed sex appeal but did nothing to flaunt it, she smelled great, her laughter was like listening to angels singing. I could go on, but you get the point. She had shown me barely the slightest interest and was dating a multi-millionaire playboy, so I could lust after her all I wanted, but I stood no chance of getting anywhere.
Now though, with no reason to believe that the interaction with Roberta was going anywhere, even though she had already intimated that it would, I was thinking about her and about how attracted to her I was right now. Like a spell had been broken, freeing me from my heartaching attraction to Amanda, I was now perhaps ready to move on.
The party was a limp affair, which Roberta seemed to quite enjoy nevertheless. There were people there that she knew, she introduced me to each of them in turn and I made professional small talk as one does. My evening certainly wasn’t terrible. Roberta was quite tactile, touching me on my arm or leg, cupping my buttock several times and commenting on the firmness she found. She was playing to my ego of course, but it was working.
By the time I was driving her back to Cawsand at 2230hrs, she was a little squiffy from drinking wine and was looking at me from the passe
nger's seat like I was a kebab she planned to eat. You can imagine my surprise then when we arrived at the carpark and she announced she had to get to bed because she had a shift in the morning. Her Superintendent was visiting to see how the investigation into the murder was going. She was not involved, of course, she explained but had been assigned specific tasks in conjunction with the case which she could not tell me about.
Less sure of herself suddenly she asked, ‘Would you like to see me again while you are here?’ It was the first time she had asked my opinion.
I mulled that over for a moment before answering. ‘My dear Roberta. I can think of nothing I would like more.' Mr. Wriggly had of course been hoping for some action, not least because of the overtly flirtatious manner in which she had been acting this evening. I was a bit more realistic. Naked entanglement might occur this week, but it would be her decision not mine and few girls dive directly into bed a few hours after meeting a man.
All too few. Said the voice in my pants.
My evening had been different than I had imagined, but it had also been fun, and I got to spend it in the company of an attractive lady.
We were still sat in my car, the cramped space ensuring there was very little room between us. She swivelled in her chair, then leaned across the centre transmission tunnel to kiss me, deeply and passionately.
She reached behind herself to open the door before she broke the kiss, then as the cool air swirled around us, she took her lips away. ‘I’ll see you soon, Tempest Michaels.’ She was gone, stolen away by the darkness that enveloped the streets.
I needed to get back to the dogs, so I wasted no further time sat in the car. With nothing to distract me, I had decided to get up onto the headland and spend a couple of hours looking for the spectral ship myself. There would be other people up there to mingle with, so by immersing myself in their activities, I might learn something new, even though I doubted there would be anything to see.
The dogs were pleased to see me of course and ready to go out for a quick walk. It was cool out now, the sky was clear and the temperature, which had not made it into double figures in daylight was now hovering not far from zero. It would be too cold to take the dogs with me and I had to wonder how determined the spook sleuths and others were and whether they would have already decided it was too cold and given up.
The dogs relieved themselves on several stationary objects and were quite happy to head back inside. The pub was still open and still busy, making me change my mind about heading directly upstairs. I caught Gretchen’s eye.
‘What can I get you, Love?’ she asked.
‘Would you have a thermos flask I could use please?’
‘Oh, err. Yes, somewhere. You want me to have it ready for breakfast? Planning a day out somewhere?’
‘I could do with it now if you can locate it. I am going up to the headland to watch for the ship. I have a few hunches about what is going on and might look into the odd ghostly events myself. Maybe even poke around the village a little to see if the pirates or their ship show up.'
Mostly I was joking but her face displayed a worried expression. It was only there for a very brief moment before she recovered, but I had definitely seen what I believed to be her natural reaction to the news. ‘Oh, that sounds like a waste of time, love. You should stay in the warm and get a good night’s sleep.’
I didn't reply. A second passed while she stood looking at me, then she turned and vanished through the hole that led away from the bar. In less than a minute, she returned with a small thermos flask adorned with a red and green tartan pattern.
‘While this do, Love?’ she asked, offering me the object.
‘Perfect, thank you.’
Upstairs, I settled the two dogs on the bed I had brought for them knowing they would leave it and get into my bed as soon as I fell asleep. I was tired. I needed some sleep and experience had taught me that I was better off to get a couple of hours now, then have an alarm to wake me for my night-time adventure.
As I settled down to sleep, my drowsy thoughts were focused on the tranquillity of this pretty village and whether there was any actual danger here. I dozed off soon enough, glad that thoughts of getting up soon were not keeping me awake.
Some time later I came suddenly awake, adrenalin driving me to alertness. I had heard a floorboard creak outside my door and now a key was slowly and quietly being turned in my lock.
Things that go Bump in the Night. Tuesday, November 1st 0052hrs
Another shot of adrenalin hit my bloodstream just as the door started to open. The two dogs were awake as well, their natural defensive posture manifesting in an explosion of barking in the silence of the night. They leapt from the bed before I could stop them.
There was no time for me to grab clothes, so I snagged a table lamp and ran towards the danger coming through the door.
‘Christ dogs! Shut up.' Roberta said from the doorway, her voice a hushed insistence. I was still running towards the door when I realised the person letting themselves into my room probably had intentions other than to harm me. I was about to stop, but before the message from my brain reached my legs, the cable from the table lamp reached full stretch and my right arm stopped moving while my legs continued. The predictable effect was for me to flip upside down in mid-air, then land in a naked lump on the floor.
I looked up. Both dogs and Roberta were staring down at me.
‘Err, hi.’ I said, weakly.
‘I didn't think this through very well, did I?' she asked. ‘Of course, the dogs would make a noise.' She closed the door behind her, stepped over me, then grabbed the two dogs and placed them both on the bed.
I began to get up. ‘Stay there, Tempest. I won't be a moment.' I turned a few degrees, so I could see her. She had already taken off her coat and top and was unfastening her bra. I swear I felt my testicles give each other a high five.
Or would that be a high one?
Moments later she joined me on the rug I had come to rest on. She didn’t speak, she just started kissing me and I will happily admit I resisted not one bit.
A few seconds later my phone beeped its alarm to tell me it was time to get up. My plan to explore Cawsand at night and look for the pirate ship was dismissed though in favour of staying exactly where I was.
World's Best Granola. Tuesday, November 1st 0830hrs
The room was drenched in sunlight when I opened my eyes. I turned over to check the other side of the bed but could tell before I looked that I was alone in the room. Roberta had left at some point after I had fallen asleep. She turned up, shagged me and left.
Brilliant!
Mr. Wriggly was doing a victory dance for one. My stomach rumbled to remind me that dinner was a long time ago and that by now I would normally have been up for a while and eaten. I rolled out of bed and headed to the bathroom. I needed to pee, but Mr. Wriggly was still doing his victory dance, so I busied myself by brushing my teeth, hoping he would calm down soon enough.
Ten minutes later, clean and with a thankfully empty bladder, I came back into the bedroom towelling my hair dry. The dogs had spent the night on the fold down bed once Roberta and I had moved them off the four-poster to make room for ourselves. She had been passionate and enthusiastic, and her diminutive size coupled with my ability to lift heavy stuff from regular hours in the gym had made the event very new and interesting. I estimated that she weighed no more than forty-five kilos: I could bicep curl more.
Thinking about it now was causing Mr. Wriggly to stir again. I needed a distraction and luckily it arrived in the form of two daft and lazy sausage dogs. They plopped onto the floor looking meaningfully between me and their food bowls.
Getting dressed while they crunched through their kibble, I remembered the amazing granola I had eaten yesterday morning. The thought of it made me want food to the extent that I considered leaving the task of walking the dogs until after my breakfast. So, it was with some reluctance, that I clipped on their collars and leads and took them for
a walk.
It was cooler outside this morning. The clear sky above me must have come in during the night, allowing any warm air from yesterday to dissipate. The dogs did not seem to notice. I took them on a circuit along the seafront to the edge of the village, then doubled back along a higher route to bring me out by the carpark once more. I was navigating by luck more than anything else, taking left and right turns as they appeared while keeping an eye on the position of the sun.
The car was still where I had left it, not that I expected it to have been vandalised or stolen. It was reassuring to see it waiting patiently for me nevertheless. The final part of our walk took us back down to the seafront where a left turn brought us back to the pub.
Twenty-two pleasant minutes had elapsed, but I was really hungry now and looking forward to my healthy granola for breakfast. I tried to eat healthily every day, and at every meal, accepting that I would not always be able to and knowing that I did not always need to. My selection of food ensured I stayed the shape I wanted to be, but I thought it a bonus to be able to eat a healthy breakfast that also tasted as good as the granola did.
The pub restaurant area was just as packed as yesterday and filled with many of the same faces. It might have been all the same faces, but I had not paid enough attention yesterday to have committed every face to memory. As I walked through the room I became aware that the chatter was all to do with the ghosts.
There had been another attack last night.
At the table with the tea urn on it, I selected a mug and a tea bag and waited for the chap already filling his mug with hot water to finish. He glanced at me as he released the tap to indicate he was done.
‘Did you hear about the incident last night?’ I asked him.
‘What? Oh, you mean the pirates attacking that couple?’
‘Actually, I don’t know what I mean. I heard that there was a sighting or an attack last night and hoped you knew more than me.’ Perhaps the pirate attack was why Roberta had left in the night.
