final part

Autumn was fully in charge as Marion drove the through the deserted Monday evening streets of Nelson. All the day time workers were all home by now, in Marion’s mind they were sitting with their spouses sipping cold gin and tonics besides cosy warm firesides. The night time revellers had yet to appear as they were still busy pre-loading at home as they preened themselves in front of the bathroom mirror before climbing into their bright, tight short dresses or half opened multicoloured shirts ready to dance the night away.

Marion’s knowledge of what, in her day would have been called ‘the in crowd` was based on a highly unrepresentative sample of one. To wit Isla, who one evening Marion had found ironing the small dress that had lunched her naked revolution. Isla was not quite naked, her modesty was preserved by some low class jewellery and a pair of high heeled sling back shoes that gave her daughter the look aspired to by many a high class Parisian whore. “Hi Mum,” She said without turning around.

“On your way out?” asked Marion, resisiting the urge to say “I hope you are not going out dressed like that young lady?”

“I’m meeting Charlie and Alice at eight. We’re going clubbing”

Isla carefully hung the dress to air before crossing to the fridge and pulling out a bottle of Rose.

“Fancy a starter, Mum” she asked.

Oh what the hell thought Marion, “Why not” she replied with a smile.

Isla poured two glasses, and handed one to her mother. Her shoes clacked as she crossed the tiled floor to the chair next to the table. She sat carefully crossing her legs. Isla inspected her daughter critically, too much make up she thought to herself, always a fault of the young, it made her look tarty. A small sip of the wine halted the evaluation as Marion spluttered violently, “Good God” she exclaimed “what is in this, meths? It’s certainly the right colour”

Suddenly startled by her mother’s outburst, Isla knocked her own glass spilling wine on her bare midriff. Marion watched the wine dribble down towards her daughter’s fine patch of curly pubic hair. “Lucky I didn’t have the dress on” she told her mother sternly as she wiped herself carefully with some paper towel. She refilled her glass and tasted the rose, “It’s fine mum, you just need to acquire the taste”

“Hmm” muttered Marion as she carefully took another nip. It didn’t get better on a second visit. She diplomatically put the glass on the table resolving not to touch another drop. Student life had lined Isla’s stomach and she made short work of the rest of the bottle. Marion said nothing, after all she was technically and adult and able to make her own decisions, and downing a whole bottle of wine before going out clubbing was fairly normal next to parading naked through a shopping centre.

Isla checked her watch, “must fly” she told her mother as she reached for her dress. The very dress that Marion had bought her for Christmas, the garment to blame for Isla’s current state of undress. Now she was a green warrior Isla seemed to have no scruples wearing it. Marion watched as she carefully pulled it over her head and then carefully smoothed out the creases that had gathered around her hips.

“Wait a minute young lady” she exclaimed, “you are not planning to go out without any underwear?”

“Mum” she said firmly, “if I wear anything beneath this dress it shows. I bet you didn’t think of that that before you bought it. Anyway I’ll bet there will not be a soul there that hasn’t seen a photo of me nude, so what’s the point of wearing any knickers”

And with that she was gone in a fog of perfume leaving Marion to reflect that as you sow so shall you reap. Isla found the truth in this homily herself later in the evening, as the oh so carefully pressed pink dress turned up in the washing bag the following morning covered in vomit.

A salutary lesson to all thought Marion as she drove through the deserted town. She didn’t expect many of those bright young things would be out and about tonight for the incoming tide had sucked an enveloping fog in from the sea and Nelson had vanished into its cold clammy arms. The headlights of her little purple car were worse than useless. Fortunately Brian had invested in one of those irritatingly bossy satellite devices, otherwise Marion may well have been utterly lost just a few miles from home.

“You have arrived at your destination.” the kindly, but firm female voice informed her from its comfortable perch on the windscreen. The voice irritated Marion, as she had told Brian on many an occasion. There were other voices available but Marion could never find a way to change them. She spent ages tinkering with the damn thing, going through indescribably irritating menus to find a better choice. No sooner had she thought she had reset the vocals than the annoyingly irrational piece of electronic trash reset it self. There was nothing more guaranteed to spoil her day that that bossy woman telling her to “turn left here”. She made a mental note to speak firmly to Brain about this when he returned. In fact Marion had mastered of the tiny machine. Every time she selected a new voice she saved the settings correctly. It was just that as soon as Brian noticed the change he reset the SatNav. He had picked this voice deliberately because it sounded just like the way Marion spoke to him when she was giving directions. It delighted him to know Marion didn’t recognise the similarity and it was a source of immense pleasure to know that the SatNav was bullying his wife in the same authoritative tones she had used on him for years.

Promising herself yet again to change to a different voice for the return Marion parked and turned off the engine and a sudden silence dropped onto the car. She peered out of the windows and checked the rear view mirror. Good, the street appeared to be deserted. A small sigh escaped her lips, as, not for the first time, Marion wondered if this was a step too far. She was committed now, and knew in her heart of hearts that it was far too late too turn back. She had planned this meticulously, researching her route, the parking place, and most importantly, waiting until Brian was away on business.

Isla, of course, was back at university where she, and her little green troop were once again causing havoc. Marion had assumed that now the weather was turning colder her daughter would stop parading around in her birthday suit. This had been the case until the university turned the heating on. This immediately triggered further protests which initially had involved the Green team turning up to lectures in coats and scarves asking for the heating to be turned off. Needless to say this protest had little effect. So with impeccable logic Isla’s band of merry men started to attend lectures naked. In the whole history of Canterbury University there had never been one hundred percent attendance at a nine o’clock lecture. Until now. Hangovers from the previous late night were a small price to pay for the sight of Susie Blackmore sitting primly in the front row, legs crossed with a notepad in her bare lap. The lecturer had the greatest of difficulty conveying the finer details of the Plantagents as Susie’s perfect breasts oscillated in time to her note taking. When he was able to drag his eyes away they fell on the Julie’s cherry nipples pointing straight towards him. The coherence of his delivery was immaterial to the rest of the students cramming into the lecture hall. He could have been reading the chemical contents off the back of a pack of chocolate hobnobs for all the attention they gave him. Even the girls in the audience were distracted as Susie had finally relented and Henri and the rest of the boys, crusties included, were allowed to take part. Fortunately, from Marion’s point of view, although the majority of the undergraduates studying Medieval History may not have agreed, the University caved in quickly and a compromise was reached on the heating.

Isla had been thoroughly pleased with herself as she related her latest triumph to her mother. “Well at lest it’s over, now” Marion told her daughter thankfully.

“Oh no Mum, we’re going back on the streets to get public buildings to reduce their heading”

Marion groaned to herself as she replied through gritted teeth “That’s nice dear”
It was all her fault she thought, all Marion had wanted was the opportunity to go naked at home without a lot of comment. A naked family was the acme of her ambition, not a naked society at large.

‘Too late now’ she thought, as she locked the car door, and, shivering despite her long coat, Marion began the short walk towards her real destination. The thick fog swallowed the sharp clicking noise of the heels on the shoes she had taken so long to choose. The street lamps bloomed like large yellow flowers suspended in the foggy sky, leading her towards the milky pool of light spilling from La Caprise. She fingered the embossed card in her coat pocket, resisting the urge to take it out and read once again. There was no need, she had read it over and over since it arrived on that fateful day. She knew it by heart.

Mr Tomas O’Sullivan would like to invite Mrs Marion Shaw to dinner at La Caprise where she will be the only guest. Dress code -----none. RSVP

Just when she thought she was home free, with Linda exposed, in all senses of the word, as the Naked Angel, this had to happen. Barely had she arrived at a time where she felt she could breathe again, this invitation had arrived. Marion cursed her luck, but there was no point, she was a hostage to ill fortune, a Good Samaritan who found that the dog she had saved had just turned around and bit her ankles, hard.

Too late for regrets now thought Marion Shaw, the true naked angel, as she tapped gingerly upon the glass door of the restaurant and waited. She could not see in as the blinds were drawn, at least that was some crumb of comfort she thought.

After thirty seconds that seemed like an hour the door opened and there he stood, the man who should be dead, Nelson’s own Lazarus, Thomas O’Sullivan.

“Welcome, welcome dear lady, please to come in” Why a man with an Irish name should speak with an Italian accent in a French restaurant was an incomprehensible puzzle that Marion found to be of complete disinterest at this point in time.

“Thank you. Most kind” she replied slipping through the door.

“May I take your coat” he asked quietly. Marion looked back at the glass door and the plate glass windows.

Tomas smiled, “Have no fears lady, nobody can see in, I have checked. No one will know you were here tonight”

Marion smiled, but said nothing. After a brief hesitation she slid the coat from her shoulders and handed it to Tomas. He sighed, “Ah dear lady, you have come just as I remember you”

Embarrassed for a moment she stood as still as a statue while Tomas ran his eyes down her naked form. Suddenly realising what he was doing, and that his guest was very aware of his scrutiny, it was his turn became ill at ease.

“Please” his fully clothed arm pointed towards a table in the centre of the room.

Marion’s discomfort fled as she crossed the floor. It was a sudden and surprising conclusion, but she recognised that this was what she lived for, being completely naked in everyday places. Situations others visit only in their nightmares were Marion’s reason d’etre. As Tomas led her to a large table, covered in crisp white linen, where silver cutlery shone in the light of a single candle Marion felt more alive than she had since, well yesterday evening when she took a midnight stroll along memory lane. Now here she was again, like Magellan stoutly heading into a brave new world filled with the anticipation of new lands to discover and own, with just a tinge of dread that he may fall over the edge of the world. Marion felt the same sense of thrill spiced with fear as she had on that fragrant night she had first set a bare foot in the garden to be rapidly followed by her equally bare body to bathe in the midnight air.

Tomas held the chair for. “Thank you” she said as she sat and he handed her the menu.

“I’ll leave you some time to choose”

“No. Please sit down” Marion told him, “There’s much I want to ask you”

Tomas tilted his head to one side quizzically.

“Well, really there’s just one thing”

“Oh” he enquired.

“Why?” she said

“That, dear lady is something I could ask of you. Why were you in that alleyway on a very cold night with no clothes on?”

“Oh it’s just something I do” she replied breezily.

“And not just you either”

She shot him a look. “Oh, you mean Linda”

He smiled the unfathomable smile of the sphinx. Did he know more she wondered?

“So why isn’t Linda here instead of me?”

That inscrutable smile again. “Because she’s not my naked angel”

Marion thought back to his comment when she had given him her coat. “How do you know that?” The words came slowly, for she feared the reply.

“How could I forget the body of my naked angel, those magnificent breasts hanging before my face as you led me back into the light. I really thought I was dead you know, and then I saw your genitalia…….. Angels aren’t supposed …”

Not liking the way the conversation had turned Marion cut in sharply “yes I know all that, but I thought you couldn’t remember anything”

“Ah” he said, the smile back on his face. “I lied. That pesky journalist. On and on she went. I’m glad your friend has taken the credit, if that’s the right way of putting it. That annoying Miss Lewis will leave me alone now”

“You could have invited Linda” Marion told him “she’d have come.” She paused, “Naked” Hell she thought, if Julie Lewis could sniff a story she’d have come too, even if it meant dressing for the shower.

Tomas paused before replying “If I invited Linda, what excuse would I have for asking you to come with her”

“Good point” she told him.

“Besides I am seeing her next week”

Marion sat up quickly. Tomas’ attention shifted to her chest which was performing some interesting vibrations. Before she could press him further Tomas asked for her order.

“Oh, er” a flustered Marion clutched the menu. “I’ll have the warm chicken salad and the sea bass with the sauce” she told him finally.

“Would madam like some wine”

“Er no, I’ll stick to water” Marion said firmly, not wanting to take anything away from the experience. She was savouring this, and besides, she did have the car. Tomas smiled his enigmatic smile and vanished to the kitchen. Marion looked around, the restaurant was small, seating at most thirty people. Tomorrow it would be full of life and the idle chatter of carefree young lovers, coupled with exuberant parties of work friends. Marion smiled, wondering who would sit where she sat now, in the centre of room looking towards the pale yellow light from the street lamps that leaked through the blinds. She smiled, for never in their wildest dreams would anyone think a middle aged woman, who they wouldn’t look twice at in the street, had sat here wearing a sensible pair of shoes and nothing else.

The door from the kitchen creaked open and Tomas appeared with her salad and a bottle of sparkling water which he opened with a flourish. Marion felt the spray from the escaping fizz across her breasts, her nipples stiffened in an instant reaction to the cool mist of water that hung in the air. Ever solicitous and highly observant of his naked guest Tomas asked if she was cold.

“No” she replied “I’ll be fine, you’d be surprised how your body reacts to the smallest change of temperature changes when you are naked” There she’d said it at last; the N word and the spell that hung in the air was broken.

“Not that I mind” Tomas began, “but why did you decide to eat naked?”

Marion looked at him sharply, “you put it in the invitation” she said, all the warmth drained from her voice.

“No I didn’t” he replied in a manner of fact way

“Yes you…” Marion’s voice tailed off into a long groan. The words of the invitation were burnt onto the back of her eyelids. She had read it over and over again as she sat, nude of course, in the kitchen in the wee small hours of the morning when only ghosts and the bare naked females of Belvior Avenue stalked the pale streets. She nearly had a seizure of her own when Brian had burst naked into the kitchen overflowing with news of Dick Standing’s night stalking. Fortunately he was so wrapped up in his own righteous indignation he never noticed the stiff card in his wife’s fingers.

“Dress code none” Marion muttered as she looked deep into Tomas O’Sullivan’s brown eyes. “You meant I could wear what I wished and I thought……… what a fool am I”

“Perhaps” Tomas said gently “you are wearing what you really want to wear”

Marion stared through him into the distance. Her thoughts churned and set as fast as reinforced concrete. She reluctantly realised he was right, she was nude and very pleased to be so.

“You may be right” she agreed with a rueful smile.

Tomas smiled and with a shout of “Sea Bass” was gone leaving Marion alone once again. Gingerly she stood up and, shyly at first, strolled around the restaurant. This to her was heaven, wandering bare through the closely packed tables, feeling the soft air against her body, the warmth of a wall heater against her thighs. Such freedom she thought, as she stood by the door, just a thin pane of glass between her and the world, a flimsy blind hiding her bare body from passers by in the street. Pulling the curtain slightly she peeked out into the street. It was as naked as she; the fog was still down, blanketing her from the prying eyes of the outside world.

“It’s ready” Thomas said. She turned to see him holding two plates. “Do you mind if I eat with you”

Marion returned to her seat and spread her serviette across her lap. How bizarre she thought as she removed it again. What was the point, she was wearing no clothes to stain. A moment later she understood that the napkin protected more than clothes as a potion of her perfectly cooked fish fell from her fork into the hot cream sauce. Marion winced as it splashed her groin. She carefully wiped it from her skin and placed the cloth once more in her lap.

“How did you find me?” Marion asked Tomas quietly.

He took a breath and let it slowly, almost a sigh. “After I got out of hospital I was haunted about that night. I could have died in that alleyway. I would have died but for you” A calm silence filled the room. Marion looked at Tomas and smiled. “Perhaps I should have died there” he continued. He smiled at Marion’s frown, “No, no dear lady I am glad to be alive and know how lucky I was you found me, and was prepared to help me, given your state of undress.” He looked down at Marion’s bare body. For the first time in many months Marion found she was blushing at her exposure.
“What I am trying to say is that perhaps it was my fate.” He paused, his mouth moving as he tried to find the words. “Why did I keep gong back? I don’t know. Perhaps I am like the eels that thrive in the long straight waterways of the fenlands. I’ve read about them, you know. At some point in their lives they feel a nagging pull, an ancient call, dragging them down the rivers into the sea where they undertake an enormous journey. They cross the mighty ocean to a small patch of water where they spawn and die. At least I think they die, I’m not too sure of their fate.” He smiled at Marion, “Since my death, and rebirth, I have been like the eel, and that alley next to your house is my Sargasso Sea pulling me across the town. I look into its dark mouth and……”

“What?” asked Marion encouragingly, wondering all the while if Tomas really had recovered from his stroke. ‘I might be stark naked,’ she thought to herself, ‘but at least I’m not stark raving bonkers.’

“I feel it wants me, I’m the one that got away and that’s against its rules. So I stood there in the deep shadows waiting. Waiting to see if I will be allowed to continue in this life” He sighed and smiled, “and then one bible black night it happened, first your neighbour, as naked as the day she was born. I thought for a moment she was you, as she was nude, but I noticed she was not as well endowed.” He gestured towards Marion’s breasts that hung before him in all their majesty. She was sitting forward, one hand on her chin. “Go on” she said quietly. He had all her attention now. “I was about to follow when I heard voices. Firstly a man, I couldn’t make out what he said, but he wasn’t comfortable”

Marion wasn’t comfortable either, she squirmed in her seat as the memory of that awful night in the woods crept into her mind. ‘Say it isn’t so’ she prayed to herself.

“Then you spoke, how could I forget that voice. ‘Yours’ you told your husband just before you strode across the road. I watched you both and followed you down the back alley”

Marion bit her lip as her thoughts ranged through that evening. Linda and Tomas out and about, and she was unaware of either of them. The street with no name was as busy as the Tokyo subway. Of one thing she was completely sure; Brian must never get to know any of this, all hell would break loose if he did.

“And how long ago was this?” she asked, although she knew damn well how when it happened.

“Some months now” Thomas admitted “I’ve had a long time to think on what to do”

“And are you still drawn back to the street with no name” she asked quietly.

“No, now I have found you that compulsion has left me”

Marion thanked whatever gods may be for that small mercy.

“But I will be there next week”

A sudden squall blew into Marion’s sunny day.
“I’m going to thank my naked angel.”

“I thought you were thanking me?”

“I am, but Julie Lewis doesn’t know that. I’m going to see your naked neighbour. Make a good spread for the paper”

“But you know, and Linda knows, that she isn’t the naked Angel of Belvoir Avenue”

“Ha!” he announced gleefully “there’s the rub, neither Linda nor Julie know that I know”

Marion was beginning to get confused. Tomas tapped his head and gave her conspiratorial wink. “I remember nothing” He smiled, “your secret will be safe with me”

Marion sighed with relief, “If you don’t mind, I think I may be out that day”

“Wise move, I’m not really looking forward to it, myself. What possessed your neighbour to admit she was the angel?”

“A tricky situation involving our nosey neighbour, peeping Bob, and his zoom lens” she explained. “Admitting she was the angel put her in a better light”

“But she has stolen your Florence Nightingale image”

“I don’t think Florence Nightingale attended to the wounded and dying of the Crimean War in the buff. Mind you, it might have improved their survival rate. Or at least they would have died happy”

As if someone somewhere had suddenly pressed a switch Tomas changed the subject.

“How did you enjoy the fish?”

“Delightful” she answered truthfully.

“And what would the lady like for desert?” he asked, solicitously passing her the menu.

Marion lent over to pick her handbag to remove her glasses case. Like a dreamer lost in a crazy dream, Tomas watched her breasts swaying. He marvelled at how she could sit in his restaurant, like any other diner, perusing the menu, half moon glasses on her nose and not a stitch covering her fine body.

“I think I’ll have the baked pear” she told him brightly, thrusting the menu towards his hand. She smiled at him as she removed her glasses and returned them to their hard red case which she closed with a sudden snap.

“I’ll be about ten minutes, madam” he replied, suddenly the professional waiter.

“Could you direct me to the bathroom” Marion requested rising to her feet. She felt the heat of the candle close to her skin as Tomas pointed to a door at the back of the room. She fervently hoped it was heated.

“Thank you” she said and headed off, leaving him to admire her ample buttocks swaying like a child’s swing in the summer breeze.

It wasn’t the warmest restaurant toilet she had visited, but it would suffice. As Marion checked her makeup in the mirror she wondered why she was bothering.
“Let’s face it Marion,” she told herself, as she caught sight of her nipples on full alert “who’s going to be looking at your face.” She gave herself a wicked grin, winked once and headed out into the restaurant. Just to her left she noticed the kitchen door.

“Is it Ok to come in?” she asked poking her head around the door.

“Sure, sure” Tomas told her, “I’m nearly ready”

The kitchen was pristine, stainless steel everywhere. Marion caught a glimpse of her reflection. It was far kinder than the mirror in the bathroom. Tomas was bent over a large white rectangular plate. She watched as he placed a perfectly cooked pear, upright and slightly offset from centre. With commendable concentration considering the nearby presence of a naked woman he surrounded the pear with an artistic spiral of sauce.

“Not too close” he warned without looking up. “We don’t want any spare hairs”

“Oh sorry” she said running her fingers through her hair. She looked at her hand. Unlike poor Brian none had come loose.

“The long ones are easy to spot” Tomas told her, “it’s the short and curly ones we have to worry about!”

Marion’s blush started at her face and spread down her chest, colouring her breasts as bright as that of a robin on a Christmas card.

“After you” he told her, plate in hand and napkin over his arm. Marion returned to her table.

“I hope you enjoy” he told her.

“Will you not sit with me?”

“I will for coffee. Have to watch what I eat now the doctors ….you know. Shall I make you some?”

“Yes please”

The pear was delicious of course.

“How was your meal?” asked Tomas as he placed a large French press, a small pot of cream, a bowl of brown rocky sugar and two cups onto the not so pristine table cloth.

“Magnificent”

“A small price for my life I assure you” he replied.

“I did what anybody would have done”

“But you weren’t wearing what anyone usually wears” he told her.

“I wasn’t actually wearing anything” she commented with a small laugh. Tomas laughed too, just enough to be polite.

A silence fell as he looked her in the eyes, not the breast, not the groin, but deep into her eyes, as if he was weighing her soul.

“You look tired” he told her

She smiled “Too many late nights…… or early mornings.” She shrugged. Too many midnights”

“Why do you do it, Marion?” he asked.

She paused and looked at him, saw the sadness in his eyes. “The fish was beautiful, fresh, delicately cooked, but why did you add the sauce”

He exhaled briefly, a small snort through his nose. “To add spice”

Marion raised her eyebrows and looked at him. She said nothing, she had made her point.

“But surely there are other ways to make life less dull”

Marion interrupted “My life isn’t dull, being naked makes it exciting. When the story of the naked angel broke, I was the last person on the street’s list. Marion Shaw, staid and conservative; never, ever. Clothed I blend into the crowd. Even you didn’t notice me”

“Not true. I recognised you straight away when you crossed the road.”

”Because I was naked. You didn’t pay me any attention when I was dressed.”

“I’ve never seen you with clothes on” he protested.

“But you have, I sat at this very table last Wednesday lunchtime”

“Surely, I would have”

“I was with friends from work, six of us in all, a couple of tall thin exuberant blondes in the shortest skirts you have ever seen. And you noticed them I can tell you. The blonde is straight from the bottle by the way, believe me, I’ve seen the evidence. I sat next to a non descript woman with severe hair. Between us were two long thin streaks of manhood, in shiny suits and pink socks. You even took our orders.”

He paused for a moment before continuing “Ah yes, I remember the table now; the girls told me they were celebrating a successful business deal.” He looked mortified as he tried to recall Marion.

“I was wearing a dark blue business suit. I’m not a creative, just a part time accountant. Dull, you see”

Marion smiled, it was a complete lie but it was fun to see him flounder like a beached fish. Could he really believe that the staff of PDQ would ever venture into this restaurant? Not that there was anything wrong in her eyes, but advertising executives hunted a different prairie, one full of steel and glass, where modern art stared down from pale pastel walls.

“I’m sorry, we were busy and….”

Marion let out the line and pushed him back into the sea “It’s Ok, but I think I’ve made my point.”

Then she hooked him again, and tugged hard at the rod. “Of course if you had come to the office you would have had no trouble recognising me”

“Of course, I was just busy in the restaurant, believe me it’s manic at lunch, the time is just a blur, Had I been in the office I would definitely recognised the woman who saved my life.” He blustered.

“Of course you would,” Marion smiled indulgently, “after all I would have been wearing my lifesaving outfit”

Tomas’ eyes were on stalks

” I don’t understand” Marion gazed at him and even non committal stare. She watched the truth spread across his face like the dawn “But surely” he began.

She cut him off. “Yes, it’s a naked office” He opened his mouth and gulped, no words would come. “Look, if I was a free fall parachutist would you be saying this? No. If I went scuba diving as a hobby? Again no”

Tomas backed down, and tried to change the subject. “So how did your little group of nudists ….” He was struggling for words now.

Marion interrupted again” Get together? We didn’t, I started out my own, they had no idea about me until…….”

”you rescued me” Tomas completed her sentence.

“Oh no, my family knew about my nakedness by then”

“How did they take that news?

“I didn’t exactly sit them down and tell them”

“Oh?” he said, head to one side, enquiry all over his face like the measles.

Marion squirmed in her seat, not so easy with a bare behind.

“Well, I set my daughter up. I bought her a new dress for Christmas. I knew it would rub against her Eco warrior principles so I pretended to throw a tantrum and stripped off in front of them in a fit of righteous indignation. You should have seen my husband’s face. I had trouble not laughing.” She paused, slowly sucking in her breath before continuing soberly “mind you it backfired because the next time I saw Isla she was stark naked too, and that ultimately led to the air con protests and now the whole world has seen her in the nude”

“And your husband? He had no inkling of what was going on?”

“Mmm, I’m not sure about that, I thought I had been pretty careful, but I’ve a sneaky feeling he knew.”

“And is he happy with your unusual living arrangements?”

“Oh yes and no” Marion continued giving Tomas a dirty look, “He’s happy for me to be naked at home, not so happy elsewhere. He’d blow a thirty amp fuse just by looking at it if he knew where I was now”

“I assumed that as he was as keen as mustard since he was out and about with you that night”

Marion interrupted, “The one and only night….. although I have a plan. I should say we have a plan as Linda is up for it too”

“And how did you convert her” Tomas asked with a curiosity that burnt brighter than a six year old boy seeing his first dinosaur.

“I didn’t, she converted me…..so she thinks”

Tomas shook his head trying to force out his woolly thoughts. He was truly lost now.

“The story of the Naked Angel spurred her on to try being naked inside and outside of the house.” This time Tomas did understand. “I guess she tried and got to like it.” Tomas started to shake his head again.

“Don’t you shake your head at me Tomas O’Sullivan, you should try it yourself”

This suggestion was followed by a coughing fit of monumental proportions.

Marion began again “Once she had tried and got to like it, she suggested to me that I might give it a go. So very reluctantly and after much persuasion I agreed to try being naked for a short while. So after making clear my misgivings I reluctantly stripped off one day. After a suitable period of embarrassment I grudgingly admitted to Linda that I did quite enjoy it and suggested we tried it again”

Tomas rocked back and fore in his chair at Marion’s irony.

“And working naked?” he asked as this was the most incredulous of all in his mind.”
“Oh that was Isla and her protests” she explained how she had manoeuvred the staff of PDQ out of their clothing, “getting advertising execs out of their clothes is a bit like shooting fish in a barrel.” She told him. “Maybe we could have a nude lunch here sometime, I’m sure they would be up for it”

“Er well, I’m not so sure”

Neither was Marion. PDQ would never dine here. Dining naked however, she’d have to manoeuvre one of the girls to come up with idea.

“So you are nudists, you and your family?”

Marion considered this suggestion, for it was a matter upon which she had given much thought.

“There are two kinds of nudist. The first kind are people who belong to a club and hang around naked with like minded people. My friend Merry is one of those. The second kind are people who go nude on holiday at the beach.”

“So which type of nudist are you?” Tomas asked not unreasonably.

“I’m the third kind” Marion replied smartly.

“I see” said Tomas in a voice that clearly showed he didn’t see at all. Marion refused to elaborate.

Tomas looked at her intently, she was sitting there wearing shoes and a watch, not forgetting a string of pearls that increased her outfit by fifty percent. She looked as calm and cool as you like. She leant forward and rested her heavy breasts on the edge of the table. For once Tomas looked away from this display to gaze into her eyes, as grey and still as the midwinter sea; they held a far away look. Not for the fist time Tomas thought to himself that, not only was Marion stark naked, she was also stark raving mad.

Marion for her part was wondering what to do next, the meal was over, she didn’t think she would be asked to pay for it, and was damned if she was going to. So they both sat there in a circle of silence waiting for some sign from the other.

Eventually Marion cracked, “Well thank you for a wonderful evening, I have to say the meal was delicious”

Tomas bowed his head in acknowledgement. There was no suggestion of a bill so Marion got up to go. The look on Tomas’ face stopped her. Had she disappointed him? Oblivious to her nudity Marion had misread the look of utter astonishment on his face. Tomas could barely believe the sight before him, for not a foot from his wide eyes, was the sight that had woken him from the dead in that dark alleyway all those months ago. Once again he was looking straight at the definitive proof of Marion’s lack of angelic powers. Eyes wide open; he was staring right at the hidden crack in Marion’s pubic mound. He could barely miss it, nestling crinkly pinkly within its little furry coat.

Oblivious to his scrutiny Marion asked Tomas if the fog had lifted Suddenly snapping his gaze from his Naked Angel’s proof of her worldliness, Tomas climbed out of his chair and crossed to the door. Pulling the bind slightly to one side he peeked out. “Worse if anything” he told her.

“I fancy a little walk before I go home” she told him, “Care to accompany me”

“Ok” he told her “I’ll get our coats”

Marion looked around the restaurant, the empty tables and chairs, the pastel walls with colourful silk screens of local landmarks. It had certainly been an experience, she thought. When Tomas returned he had already donned a warm winter jacket and scarf. Ever the gentleman he held out Marion’s for her. His eyes bulged when she told him it was quite warm out and she didn’t need it yet.

“Come on” she told him, “You can carry it, just in case I need it”. Marion turned on her heel, and a without a moment’s doubt, strode out of the restaurant door into the foggy street. She gasped as the cold moist air hit her. This was what she lived for, the chill of the evening, the thrill of the exposure.

Behind her Tomas was muttering as he locked the door to La Caprise. “Are you sure about this?” he asked hesitantly as he stood shivering clutching Marion’s coat as if it were the last parachute on a plunging plane.

“Absolutely” she replied, feeling more alive than ever. “Come on, let’s go”
And so, without once looking back, the third kind of nudist strode confidently into the smothering mist heading towards Trafalgar Square.

The End