twenty4

Brian sat at his desk miserably watching silver drops of rain roll down the office window. The hot weather had finally broken a week ago and after two grey days filled with a silent drizzle summer seemed like a dream now. Isla had gone to the North to stay with Henri’s family. He hoped she had kept her clothes on, but he had his doubts. At least she was off his hands and if she was wreaking naked havoc, then it was Henri’s problem now. Isla’s mother was as naked as ever at home, but now the nights were turning chilly Brian felt could legitimately claim it was too cold to join her inflagrante. Fortunately she didn’t seem to mind and pottered around quite happily in the nude while her fully clothed husband admired the view.

The last few weeks had been a stormy, metaphorically speaking, and rough seas had battered the good ship Brian Shaw, firstly the force ten that was Isla and her reluctantly naked boyfriend, followed by the scend of nude working in the offices of PDQ. Brian’s timbers shivered at the memory but at least now he was back on an even keel and sailing happily through much calmer waters with smiling waves smacking against the prow. And so it was until about half past eleven when the kraken awoke.

“Ho-ho” called John to nobody in particular, “they’ve caught the naked angel”

The monster Brain always feared lay in wait for him rose up from the depths and wrapped its tentacles around his chest like iron bands.

“Oh really” replied Jan casually, “I thought she was a myth”

“Absolutely not, she was reported to the police this morning by somebody called Bob Standing who had seen her in the street”

The waters around Brian were boiling and frothing as he felt himself drawn down into cold depths of despair. Bob Standing lived across the road from him!

“How do they know it was the Naked Angel?” asked Jan with as much contempt as she could muster.

“Same street as before, Belvoir Avenue, where Brian lives” Jan’s distain drained away as both of Brian’s colleagues looked pointedly towards him. Not hat he noticed as he was too busy sucking in oxygen to feed his beating heart.

“You must know her Brian, Linda Frost?”

Brian gulped, a goldfish breaching the putrid surfacein a stagnant bowl. The pressure eased on his chest, and just as a drowning sailor suddenly finding a life vest he popped up to the surface. Gratefully he sucked in oxygen.

“Yes” he squeaked weakly, as if he had been fed helium instaed, “she lives next door”

John laughed, “Would you believe it? All that time and you never knew”

This brief interlude was all Brain needed to recover, the waters had subsided now and he was able to answer calmly.

“I thought that chef said he couldn’t remember”

“True,” replied John thoughtfully, “but that doesn’t mean it didn’t happen”
Brian, who up until now had been certain it did happen, and that his wife was the naked angel reconsidered. “How did they find out it was Linda”

“Look here” said Jon turning his screen around, “he was looking out the window, saw her and got a few pictures.”

Brian looked at the photographs. Linda’s naked body glowed a whiter shade of pale in the harsh light of the camera flash. The first snap, however, could have been anyone, but the second was a close up of her face, twisted in a look of shock at the sudden starburst of light. Brian was filled with an immense sense of relief. He was instantly ashamed, but that could have been Marion, or worst of all himself. John was reading on.

“Linda Frost, thirty seven…..she looks good for her age, don’t you think?” Brain looked at his neighbour while Jan looked to the heavens, “you’re as big a pervert as that Dick Standing” she told him.

“Bob Standing, Jan, pay attention will you” He corrected her before continuing. “Mrs Frost was interviewed by the police, but as nobody had complained about her bizarre night time habits they decided not to bring charges.”

“Mr Frost claimed he had no idea of his wife’s nudist ramblings. He told reporters their neighbour’s naked habits had led her astray”

The kraken rose like a lioness from the dry savannah grass once more, tentacles dripping cold seawater as it reached to drag him down into the cold dark depths.

“That was a principled protest” Jan told John firmly. With a sudden release and surge of elation Brian broke free from his malaise, shaking off the monster completely.

“I don’t think Isla had anything to do with this” he said defensively.

John changed tack. “She must have walked past your house” he said to Brian.

“Who?” Brian was genuinely confused now, even so he felt the trap, sensing the beast that lurked below his little boat, circling, waiting for its chance.

“The naked neighbour”

“Well I suppose so”

“So you must have seen her”

Brian became indignant “I don’t spend all night looking out of the window, unlike my neighbour” he added, feeling the undercurrent dragging him down. For lurking in his mind was the dreadful fact that on another night that Dick Standing’s evil little camera could have caught him and Marion, tripping across the road together in the altogether.

“You’re not telling me that you have lived next door to the naked angel for sixth months and had no idea.”

Brian shook his head, of course he hadn’t thought the mythical naked angel had been living next door, he’d been damn certain she’d sleeping next him, for some of the night at least. This revelation of Linda the divine was something to digest, a large big piece of gristle that lay heavy on his stomach.

Jan, however, had other matters on her agenda and turned on John.

“You seem remarkably interested in all of this. You’re not thinking of trying it yourself are you?”

“Certainly not” replied John quickly, far too quickly for Jan, who turned and with a raised eyebrow struck deep “the lady doth protest too much, methinks”

“What’s that supposed to mean” snapped John suddenly on the defernsive.

“You’re not a closet nudist are you?” Jan asked him with a wicked smile.

“Absolutely not! You wouldn’t catch me doing something as sordid as that”

” For somebody so disgusted with nudity you seem to take a great deal of interest in it”

They bickered on and on for some time, like two evenly matched armies fighting over the same blasted piece of heath. First one advanced, only to be stopped by a determined rearguard, which was followed by a sharp offensive that railed futilely at a sternly held redoubt. Safely to one side of battle with the crisis over Brian got back to some work, as he fell into the familiar rhythm of his fingers tippy tappy typing on his keyboard he felt the kraken drop back into the abyss, leaving him at peace, for now. But he knew it was there, deep down, waiting and watching.

That evening after a stressful drive home Brian approached Belvoir Avenue with a heavy heart. He was determined once and for all to have it out with Marion. These midnight walks had to stop, after all what if Dick had photographed her, in her glory clothes. As he tuned right he peered along the road bathed in a coppery sun that brushed the street with loving sepia tones. Brian had expected to be greeted by a press pack hounding Linda’s gate, baying for blood,but all was quiet and still. The world having looked once, now turned away, the beam of its relentless desire for scandal focused on some new indiscretion.

Brian entered the kitchen full of strident purpose, intent on righting his wayward wife who as usual, was as naked as a jaybird. What was unusual, and put him completely off his stride, was her naked companion. They both looked at him completely unabashed. The new nude was small with large pendulous breasts. Clearly these were too heavy for her slender frame as she was resting them on the kitchen table. She smiled at Brian invoking a small flicker of recognition. Has he met her before? He would surely remember those mammaries, unless of course they were in their holsters when he had seen them last.

“Brian, this is Julie, a friend of Isla’s”

That would explain the nudity, but he felt sure Isla hadn’t introduced them. Julie rose to her feet exposing a freshly shaven haven. Her breasts swayed like Galilieo’s chandelier as she held out her hand.

“We’ve met before” she told him, “I came here to look into the naked angel story”

“Ah right” he replied as panic rose in his throat. His autonomic response to any mention of the naked angel.

He shook her hand, setting up divine oscillations in those breasts. She smiled as she sat down.” Perhaps you didn’t recognise me without my clothes on?”. The oldest joke in the world, and she knew it.

“Well it does beg the question as to why you are in the altogether”

Marion interrupted, “I told you Brian. You never listen, do you. Julie has been with Isla on her protests; she spent a day working nude with us at PDQ”

Brian winced at the thought of Marion naked at work. He was always astonished that that bare fact had escaped the public’s attention. Now he was looking at the reason in all her glory.

“Well don’t just stand there Brian, we have guest and you are not following the dress code”

Brian gulped and then as he was about to slope sadly off, like an admonished dog, tail between his legs he was saved by the bell.

Ding dong, “I’ll get that” he said and before anyone could move he was gone.

He opened the door to find his neighbour, Linda, the erstwhile naked angel standing on the step. On one hand she looked awful. Her face was pale and drawn, her eyes red and puffy from crying and her hair greasy and lifeless. On the other hand Brain had never seen her looking so good, mainly because up until this moment he had never seen her without clothing.