Ten

Brian was not amused. He was sitting at a plastic table, in the plastic interior of an ersatz American diner with two of his work colleagues. John, a happily married philanderer and Jan, an unhappily married ditherer who was the latest objective of his raging libido. Jan had invited Brian along as a chaperone, and then proceeded to ignore him throughout the lunch.

“Did you hear about the naked angel?” John asked of Jan. Brian decided it was time to leave. He knew john’s MO and this was as tactful as it got. “Here Brain you might know something about this. It was in your area” A cold hand gripped Brain’s heart. “Apparently some chef was wandering around and had a stroke. Then some woman who drives around in the nude stopped and gave him the kiss of life.” Brian looked at John through narrowed eyes, but John only had eyes for Jan.

“Is that what it’s like where you live Brian?” he asked, eyes firmly locked on Jan “all the women driving around in the nuddy.” Jan licked her lips and smiled, “perhaps I should move there?” she suggested. John laughed, Brian was in no mood for foreplay, he broke in sharply “And where did you get this information from?” This broke the spell.

“All over the Mercury, you get the local rag?” asked John.

“Yes, Marion reads it, but I never……. Look I need to get back” Brain rose hastily to his feet and gave John some money. “If that’s not enough let me know” he said as he left in hurry.

Jan turned to John, “What’s into him, do you think it’s true, people drive around starkers in his neck of the woods?”

John snorted, “It’s strictly Stepford around there, I doubt his wife takes her clothes off to have a bath.”

Even though he knew there would be one at home Brian couldn’t wait and went to the nearest newsagent where for the exorbitant price of 80c bought another copy of ‘The Nelson Mercury’. Hiding it under his coat like a schoolboy with a dirty magazine he scurried back to his office. The naked angel had made page seven. It was clearly the work of a new girl who had been given the graveyard shift. She had taken a phrase muttered by an incoherent and very ill man and proceeded to turn it into a half page spread.

‘Who is the naked angel of Nelson?’ the banner headline screamed. The foundation of the article appeared to be the delirious ramblings of a chef who had been found lying in the street suffering from a massive stroke. During a casual chat with the ambulance crew she had learned he had been muttering about being saved by a naked angel. The crew had told her the man was hallucinating, but that had only spurred the journalist on to quizzing the staff at the emergency call centre. Despite being told that the patient himself had dialled for an ambulance, Julie Lewis had perused her story. The police were completely non committal when asked about the legality of a naked woman roaming the streets, pointing out that they had no reports of such a thing happening in the area, ever. The only man who had seen the naked angel was now lying in a coma in a hospital bed. Faced with such robust denial and the flimsiest of evidence the editor of the Mercury did what all newspapermen would do under such circumstances. Never allowing the truth to get in the way of a good story he published it. Normally Brian would have dismissed the article out of hand but for one minor fact, the man had been struck down thirty yards from his house, and, unlike the police, Brain did know of a woman who roamed the neighbourhood in her birthday suit.

He stuffed the paper in his drawer and tried to get some work done, but it was no use, he couldn’t concentrate and as soon as it was politic to do so Brian sloped off home. When he arrived their copy of the local paper had arrived. Marion had not. He laid the paper on the hall table and went to make himself some tea. A few moments later he heard the key in the lock.

“You’re home early, dear” called his wife. She breezed into the kitchen and gave him a peck on the cheek

“I’d love a cup of tea” she told him, “I’ve had such a busy day. I can’t tell you the trouble I had sorting out that software company’s books” She kicked her shoes off. “That feels good” she said with relief as she placed them in the utility room. “It was so hot there, and the room was so stuffy” she complained as she unbuttoned her blouse. She stuffed that straight into the washing machine and proceeded to take off her skirt which she sniffed suspiciously, “Hrrmph that will have to be dry cleaned” she muttered draping it on the back of a chair. Brian finished pouring his wife’s tea while she continued her striptease. She dumped her underwear into the washing machine and sat down gratefully at the kitchen table. “Not joining me darling?”

“I’ve got a cup thanks” he told her.

“In the nude” she chastised.

“Trifle chilly for me” he told her. He rarely shed his cardigan, let alone his underpants. Now and again Marion would get sulky and start to pout and tell him he was an old stick in the mud and he should join her. So to keep the peace and, more importantly, keep his wife naked around the house he would reluctantly bare all for an “in the all together evening”. On the whole Marion didn’t seem to mind him being fully clothed while she wandered the house as nature intended.Which was just fine by him.

Brain watched his wife carefully as she scanned the local paper. Not a flicker of acknowledgement crossed her face as she passed over the story of the naked angel. Nor did she remark on its closeness to home. Marion was able to pass nervelessly across the story because she had already read it. Someone had pointed it out to her at work.

“Don’t you live near Belvoir Avenue, Marion?” one of the two partners who ran the company had asked her. He pushed the paper towards her. Panic rose inside her as she saw the headline. Mustering all the self control possible under the circumstances, Marion read the article. When she had got to the end she nearly collapsed with a mixture of concern and relief. Concern that the story of the nude rescuer was in the paper at all, and relief that Tomas was still alive. Better still he had not given a description of his personal angel.

“It’s all a bit flimsy” she stated noncommittally.

“Oh I don’t know” Dave continued in a mischievous voice, “We’ve all heard those stories about suburbia, a den of iniquity behind those net curtains”

Marion looked him straight in the eyes and replied coolly “Well I’ve never seen any naked women wandering the streets” emphasising the point with a nod. What was more, it was also the truth.

“Maybe,” Dave continued, “that is because you are the nude angel.” He winked. Marion felt her heart surge and a warmth in her cheeks as she blushed bright red.

“Only joking, Marion” Dave put in quickly. He liked to tease Marion, who he saw as overtly prim and proper, but perhaps, he thought to himself, he taken it a bit too far this time. Marion smiled weakly at him, Dave misinterpreted this gesture of relief as an acceptance of his apology.

She was therefore steeled for Brian’s scrutiny, and had answers prepared for any comments he might make about the article. That he made none brought forth a long held concern that her husband knew of her night time adventures. Not for the first time she considered telling him about her forays, because (and this sudden realisation shocked her) her recent close shave had only left her craving for more.

Before he could mention the article, the doorbell rang. Neither of them moved. Brian looked Marion, and she just sat at the table cup held in both hands, breasts brushing against her arms. “Shall I answer it?” she said, putting down the cup.

This stirred Brian, “Aren’t you going to put something on?”

“It’s probably Isla, she said she would be coming home for a few days, got a reading week.”

Brian shot his wife a suspicious look, why had she not told him this before, he thought as he got up and went into the hall.

He opened the door to a pretty young woman with long curly hair. She introduced herself as Julie Lewis. Brain’s memory whirred and found an answer, the journalist who had written that story, surely she had not tracked Marion down?

“I’m just following up on my story of the naked angel, are you aware of it?” Brain nodded “I suppose you didn’t see or hear anything last Thursday?”

“Oh no, nothing at all” he replied guardedly.

Julie Lewis nodded, “Do you know of anybody who saw or heard anything?”

Brian looked at her, she was in her early twenties, had a nice smile, and he could have made her day by asking her in to meet the naked angel, who was sitting on her bare bottom in the kitchen.

“No neither of us saw anything and none of our neighbours have spoken of it. In fact the first I heard of the story was in the paper”
“So what is your opinion of a naked woman roaming around in this area?”

“Well, um, as I read your report, there’s not a lot of evidence beyond the ramblings of a very ill man, unless of course you have some other witness.”

Brian was fishing now, this was dangerous. If she did have a witness it could arouse suspicions. She smiled

“No, not really, I’m just trying to get a flavour of the locality until Mr O Leary wakes up” She paused, “if he wakes up. Anyway thanks for your time.”

Marion was washing the tea cups when he returned to the kitchen. “Who was that dear?”

“Some reporter wanting to ask about a man who collapsed in the street last Thursday”

“Not the one who claimed he was rescued by a naked angel?”

“Yes, lucky I didn’t invite her in. She might have met one”

Marion gave him a withering look “You wouldn’t do that to me, would you darling?”

“But what if it was somebody else, like Linda next door, she would have just walked straight past me into here, and then she would have had a shock”

“Oh well” began Marion, “it’s bound to happen sometime, I’m fed up with scurrying for some clothes every time she comes around. I think it’s time she knew we were nudists”

Brian was stunned. It is not as if he hadn’t been expecting it, but it still came as a knee in the solar plexus shock, Marion had used the n word.

“What did you say?”

“We’re nudists Brian, or would you prefer the term naturist?”

No he wouldn’t actually, and come to think of it he rather objected to being called a nudist.

“So, does that mean you want to join a club?” he asked, heart somewhere around the soles of his shoes.

Marion gave it some thought, before replying. “No, I don’t think that is me really, but I’ll go along with it if you would like to do that”

His blood began to boil, do that! He was standing there in his business suit, not his birthday suit. She was the nudist not him.

“But I do think we should spend more time in the nude together, perhaps when the weather is nicer we could try being naked outdoors, I’ve heard that is nice, or maybe we could find a nice quiet beach somewhere.”

Brain could barely believe his ears, he was about to explode, and the last thing he needed to hear was the sound of a key in latch and a cheery hello from his daughter.

“In here, dear” called Marion completely unaware of her husband’s distress.

“Hi dad” she greeted her father with a peck on the cheek. “Hi mum looking good, I like the outfit”

Marion kissed her daughter and smiled, “Bag full of washing?” she asked.

“Not much” she replied. Brian missed this; it was a portent of things to come.