Nineteen
Henri knew that first impressions are important, and he was very aware that he wasn’t making one. They had taken the coastal route up to Nelson, stopping off at some friends overnight. By the time they got there they were both covered with the dust and the sweat of their journey. Isla’s parents were prepared to forgive this of their daughter but were not so understanding of the dishevelled boyfriend who stood for the first time in front of them. Henri was surprised to find he actually cared what they thought.
“Please call me Marion” Henri shook her hand, a middle aged suburban hausfrau right down to her pink toenails poking out of her unfashionable sandals. She wore a large summer dress which bore the pattern of inter crossing fern fronds.
Isla’s father shook his hand, a serious dark haired man with a pleasant face that wore a fixed smile that didn’t match his eyes. “Good to meet you at last, exactly how long have you two been going out together?”
“Dad, please” interjected Isla
‘Call me Mr Shaw’ thought Henri glumly.
Isla’s mother broke in to stop her overprotective father with the suggestion that everyone could do with a long cool drink. As they walked out into the garden with its potted blood red geraniums, Henri stared carefully at the hedge separating this garden from the one next door. He desperately searched for a chink through which he might glimpse that rarest of flowers, a naked neighbour. But Marion’s shrubbery shield was thorough and there was no chink in her armour. She waited until they were all comfortable before breaching the topic that had been hanging in the sultry air since Isla and Henri had arrived.
“Tell me about your protest”
Isla took a deep breath and began.
“Well, I have to say it was the most nerve wracking and exciting thing I have ever done at the same time. We went down to the mall and walked straight to the middle and … I was so nervous I can tell you, but there was no going back. Susie gave the signal and we whipped off our dresses. You could have heard a pin drop, then some woman gasped, so we started our chant. ‘Air con con, air con non, no clothes on before air con on’
Isla caught a glimpse of her mother’s face “It’s cheesy I know, but we couldn’t think of anything else. Anyway it was so good; being naked in the shopping mall you should try it some time”
Henri thought that this was an odd thing for Isla to say to her parents. He looked at them both, her mother serene and her father ready to gnaw his own head off.
“And then the security guards came, and Cat just stood in front of them hands on hips with her breasts jutting out and just dared them, ‘touch me and that’s indecent assault’ They backed off and decided it was more important to control the crowd. Most were really supportive, there was the odd pervert, and of course some young guys who had never seen a naked woman in the flesh before. You could tell by the way their tongue was hanging out.”
Henri also remembered the day well; there was utter chaos as the four young women strolled, with no shame, through the shopping mall. Some people tired not to notice, most sneaked glances while a few honest souls openly stared. Then there young men with their phones, snapping away sending them to their mates. “Come on darling, spread ‘em for me” That was unpleasant but they cheered up the security guards who could vent their pent up frustration by forcibly ejecting them. Susie was the magnet, but she didn’t care because the cause meant more to her than her exposed body. After all it was exposure they craved, as they strolled through the cool marble halls, breasts bouncing, firm buttocks quivering with each footstep. The bonanza they were waiting for, a TV crew, never came, the police beat them to it. Cat and Susie came to a sudden halt before two burly policemen, accompanied by two petite policewomen. By the look on their faces the policewomen would have no qualms with physically arresting some naked female students.
The policeman asked them why they were naked. He winced as Susie stood before him, hands on hips, legs apart and gave him the green broadside.
“If you don’t get dressed now” he told them all firmly, “you will be arrested”
They had discussed this and were all agreed the cause would serve little if they were taken into custody. So all four girls capitulated politely, took their dresses from the accompanying boys and allowed themselves to be escorted form the mall to the impatiently waiting press pack outside.
After half an hour of interviews they caught a bus to the other side of the city, and following a leisurely lunch in the park, went out and did it all over again.
“So you never got in trouble with the police” commented Brian offering grateful thanks to whatever gods may be.
“Henri nearly did” giggled Isla
“I thought it was a girls only protest?” asked her mother with a little concern.
“It was, but in the Freeglade Mall there was this pervy guy, he kept calling to me. ‘Jus rub your tits darling, go on spread them and ugh, some really disgusting stuff, so Henri grabbed his camera off him and smashed it into his face”
“Well done” said Biran, turning to Henri for the first time since he greeted him at the door, “did you do any damage”
“Not really, those cameras are quite robust” Henri replied with some regret.
“I wasn’t referring to the camera” Brain replied through gritted teeth
“Oh I see,” Henri grinned, “just a broken nose and a split lip that needed six stitches”
Brian smiled, “Care for another beer Henri”
“Oh yes please Mr Shaw”
“Call me Brian,”
Saturday, 17 April 2010
seventeen
Eighteen
A warm, golden summer’s afternoon. Belvoir Avenue shimmered in the hot air that rose in great swirling currents from the tarmac made soft by the unendurable heat. Henri took in the street, wide and tree lined and well kept, the epitome of middle class suburbia, from the well trimmed hedges to the blooming rose bushes which filled the air with a heady scent. Isla saw different things, this was her home, and she saw the changes. New windows in the Smythes, the council had cut down the old tree opposite the mad woman’s house, and whoever had moved into to her friend Charlotte’s old home had put up stone gates topped with lions that screamed of bad taste.
“Ouch” complained Isla as a ball hit here ankle. She turned to face two small boys
“Sorry” said the younger of the pair.
“I’ve seen you tits” the elder told her, “my dad’s got a picture of you with no clothes on”
‘I bet your mother doesn’t know that’ thought Isla.
“And did you like what you saw Arty?” she asked him. Arty screwed hid face into a scowl.
“Leave Isla alone” pleaded the other boy. Arty kicked him in the shin.
“Shut up Timmy, we shouldn’t even be talking to her; my mum says you’re a slut”
Henri, who had played Lancelot to Isla’s Guinevere with burly security guards and testosterone charged teenagers, was not prepared to let this go any further. Arty had been indulged by his parents and had assumed in his usual arrogance that nobody would dare touch him. He was suddenly surprised to find his feet were no longer on the ground. Slowly Henri pulled him up to his eye level. He then explained very carefully that he was Isla’s boyfriend and should he bother her again he would tell his mother exactly what Arty had said to her. And then he told the terrified boy he’d tell her that her son had a collection of photographs of naked women on their computer. Small bullies always recognise large bullies, and Arty realised he was in the presence of a master. He gave a small gulp followed by a gasp as Henri released him and let Isaac Newton finish the job. Picking himself off the hot soft tarmac he ran home, barely managing to hide his tears.
Despite the loss of his leader the small boy held his ground “My Mum says you’re a hero!” he told Isla
“Why thank you Timmy.” She smiled graciously “How have you been? Come and meet Henri, he won’t bite”
Henri bent down and solemnly shook the small boy’s hand “Pleased to meet you Tim, where do you live”
“We live next door to Isla and my Mum thinks she’s great”
“She supports the cause too, has she been writing to the council?”
“Dunno about that, but she walks around with no clothes on”
“What!”
Timmy looked desperately at Isla, “Really. I’ve seen her” he said trying to convince her, “when she thinks nobody is looking she walks around the house and round the garden, and” he dropped his voice to a whisper “even down the lane”
Henri was astonished, this looked so much like an ordinary street, the sort of place you found everywhere with normal people doing all the same normal boring things; shopping, visiting the cinema, watching the same detective stories. Cereal for breakfast, salad for lunch, the occasional curry for a taste of the exotic. Not the place where women ran around naked in public.
Isla, who knew Linda well, was wondering if her mother had got to her.
“You won’t tell anybody, will you?” pleaded Timmy. Isla promised him his secret was safe with her. “Thanks” he called as he ran up the path, the front door closed with a bang. Henri stared at the house with its flowered garden and well trimmed hedges and a line form a half forgotten song came drifted into his head.
‘There’s an ol’ piano, and they play it hot. Behind the green door. Wish they'd let me in. So I could find out what's behind the green door’
A warm, golden summer’s afternoon. Belvoir Avenue shimmered in the hot air that rose in great swirling currents from the tarmac made soft by the unendurable heat. Henri took in the street, wide and tree lined and well kept, the epitome of middle class suburbia, from the well trimmed hedges to the blooming rose bushes which filled the air with a heady scent. Isla saw different things, this was her home, and she saw the changes. New windows in the Smythes, the council had cut down the old tree opposite the mad woman’s house, and whoever had moved into to her friend Charlotte’s old home had put up stone gates topped with lions that screamed of bad taste.
“Ouch” complained Isla as a ball hit here ankle. She turned to face two small boys
“Sorry” said the younger of the pair.
“I’ve seen you tits” the elder told her, “my dad’s got a picture of you with no clothes on”
‘I bet your mother doesn’t know that’ thought Isla.
“And did you like what you saw Arty?” she asked him. Arty screwed hid face into a scowl.
“Leave Isla alone” pleaded the other boy. Arty kicked him in the shin.
“Shut up Timmy, we shouldn’t even be talking to her; my mum says you’re a slut”
Henri, who had played Lancelot to Isla’s Guinevere with burly security guards and testosterone charged teenagers, was not prepared to let this go any further. Arty had been indulged by his parents and had assumed in his usual arrogance that nobody would dare touch him. He was suddenly surprised to find his feet were no longer on the ground. Slowly Henri pulled him up to his eye level. He then explained very carefully that he was Isla’s boyfriend and should he bother her again he would tell his mother exactly what Arty had said to her. And then he told the terrified boy he’d tell her that her son had a collection of photographs of naked women on their computer. Small bullies always recognise large bullies, and Arty realised he was in the presence of a master. He gave a small gulp followed by a gasp as Henri released him and let Isaac Newton finish the job. Picking himself off the hot soft tarmac he ran home, barely managing to hide his tears.
Despite the loss of his leader the small boy held his ground “My Mum says you’re a hero!” he told Isla
“Why thank you Timmy.” She smiled graciously “How have you been? Come and meet Henri, he won’t bite”
Henri bent down and solemnly shook the small boy’s hand “Pleased to meet you Tim, where do you live”
“We live next door to Isla and my Mum thinks she’s great”
“She supports the cause too, has she been writing to the council?”
“Dunno about that, but she walks around with no clothes on”
“What!”
Timmy looked desperately at Isla, “Really. I’ve seen her” he said trying to convince her, “when she thinks nobody is looking she walks around the house and round the garden, and” he dropped his voice to a whisper “even down the lane”
Henri was astonished, this looked so much like an ordinary street, the sort of place you found everywhere with normal people doing all the same normal boring things; shopping, visiting the cinema, watching the same detective stories. Cereal for breakfast, salad for lunch, the occasional curry for a taste of the exotic. Not the place where women ran around naked in public.
Isla, who knew Linda well, was wondering if her mother had got to her.
“You won’t tell anybody, will you?” pleaded Timmy. Isla promised him his secret was safe with her. “Thanks” he called as he ran up the path, the front door closed with a bang. Henri stared at the house with its flowered garden and well trimmed hedges and a line form a half forgotten song came drifted into his head.
‘There’s an ol’ piano, and they play it hot. Behind the green door. Wish they'd let me in. So I could find out what's behind the green door’
sixteen
Seventeen
Isla’s protests were short lived. Soon every security guard in the country had her photograph in his pocket along with strict instructions not to let her in. But that couldn’t stop the campaign against air conditioning; it spread like a wildfire across a parched prairie, as others took up the cause and ran naked with it. The shops and malls responded quickly by robustly caving into the protestors. It wasn’t much of a contest as it was in the complexes owners’ interests to turn off their expensive air conditioning. This allowed them to save large amounts of money whilst giving the outward appearance of caring for the environment. They almost fell over each other in the rush to turn off the fans. The only cloud in this clear blue sky was the faint possibility that some people out there would take the slogan; I’d rather have nothing on than have air con on, literally and turn up in the nude. They crossed their fingers, knocked on wood and hoped for rain.
Flushed with success the University of Canterbury Greensoc had one last, all naked, picnic in the summer countryside before scattering for the long summer break. Cat and Julie went hiking while Susie continued to promote the cause. She was everything that the media could have asked for, articulate, intelligent, persuasive and happy to take her clothes off. The camera loved her, clothed and unclothed. She steamed off into the limelight leaving Isla drifting miserably in the quiet backwaters.
“I think I’ll go back and see my folks” she announced to Henri as they sat quietly in the corner of a crowded beer garden. She paused and hesitated before continuing. “You wouldn’t like to come with me would you?”
To Isla’s surprise, and Henri’s utter astonishment he agreed.
“Isla’s coming home tomorrow” Marion announced to her husband, “and she’s bringing her boyfriend” That got Brian’s attention. They had both speculated about their daughter’s love life for some time; and, despite her robust denials, had long suspected Henri’s existence. “Get the loft room ready, Marion” was Brian’s reply. He didn’t care what they got up to at University, but it wasn’t happening under his roof.
“Shall I prime the tank trap dear?” enquired Marion
“Don’t be facetious” Brian continued at his most pompous, “and you can keep your clothes on for the duration of their stay”
“Aye, aye, capn” replied his naked wife giving him a mock salute. Brian watched her bare buttocks quiver as she strode out of the room to prepare the nest for the return of their wandering chick.
Marion sighed to herself as she cleaned the old attic bedroom. This time tomorrow she would be locked up in her prison clothes. She knew deep down that Brian was right, Isla’s boyfriend was an unknown quantity and it was probably for the best that his first memory of his future mother-in-law wasn’t of her naked. She interrupted her train of thought. What was she thinking of, she hadn’t even met the boy, and here she was marrying Isla off.
Brian was thinking quite the opposite, this boy was just a passing fancy, Isla would soon come to her senses and drop him for a nice quiet, sensible, medical student. He rather wished that Isla wasn’t bringing him at all. The only good thing he could think about Henri’s visit would be it would stop Marion pestering him to take his clothes off. The thought of nudity set his mind going again, worrying away, and gnawing away at the thought of his daughter’s protests and, worse still, that one mad night in the wood. Again and again he went over it in his mind, could they have been seen? It was a question he would never know the answer to, but that didn’t stop him tormenting himself.
Conversely Marion was worrying about having to wear clothes. She was smoothing the sheets on the bed as she pondered her predicament. Isla and the boyfriend wouldn’t be there all the time, so she could go nude when they were out, just keep something handy if they came back unexpectedly; and she could rely on Isla to call ahead just to give the time to dress. It would be like old times she thought warmly as she stared down at the garden from the dormer in the roof. All those months, she had sat naked in the house, listening for Brian’s return and scurrying to get dressed at the first throaty sound of the car’s engine in the drive. Unconsciously she scanned the shrubbery mapping out the hidden path to the gate. She suddenly realised what she had been doing and smiled, perhaps she could take a walk. ‘Oh yes’ she thought brightening up, her pulse quickening at the thought of the danger involved. She might even arrange to meet Linda in the lane. She warmed at the thrill of it, roaming naked, with the unsettling danger of being caught. Cheered tremendously by these thoughts she returned to the lounge where Brian was watching television.
“You’re still dressed” she scolded, “This will be our last chance for a few days to spend time together naked”
“It’s too cold” he complained
“Nonsense it’s the middle of summer, it’s far too hot for clothes. I fancy I don’t know how I will get through tomorrow…….”
Brian recognised a threat when he heard one; although he was beginning to feel there was not as much substance behind them as he once feared. As far as he was aware the only people who had seen Marion naked were Brian himself, their daughter and their neighbour Linda. The stricken man suddenly came to mind. This burst Brain’s pretty party balloon. Anyone who was prepared to walk the streets stark naked and not pass by on the other side when they meet a helpless soul would have no qualms about baring all in front of their daughter’s boyfriend. Suddenly sober, Brian quickly stood up and stripped.
Marion smiled as she contemplated the mound of bare flesh on the settee that was the spoils of her victory.
“I do think it’s a little mean putting Henri away in the attic.”
“I know I can’t control what they do in university Marion, but while they are under my roof there will be no shenanigans”
“You won’t be here al the time”
Marion paused while Brian ruminated on this,
“People do have sex in the day you know”
Brian was at his most haughty “I do hope Isla and her boyfriend will not abuse our hospitality”
“They could do it outside”
Brian shot a look at Marion, but she was staring out of the window, idly playing with he left nipple. He watched as she gave it a little squeeze. “There’s a place in the wood” she continued as she rolled her hand over her breast. Brian felt an unwanted stirring between his legs
“Do you remember the place” Marion’s voice was low and husky now. He certainly did, and so did his penis. “There’s nothing to stop them going there, after all it is so arousing, sex al fresco, don’t you think”
Brian didn’t have to think, his libido was doing all that for him. In desperation he crossed his legs and tried to stare at the picture of a stormy seashore hanging above the stone mantelpiece. It was no use, as if by magnetism his eyes were drawn towards his wife’s naked body and her left hand which was slowly, idly, and apparently unconsciously caressing her right breast. Suddenly, like a seal coming up for air, his perfidious penis burst free and poked its head out from between his legs,. Marion let go of her nipple and smiled, “There you are, I knew you remembered” Brain wasn’t sure she was talking to him.
Isla’s protests were short lived. Soon every security guard in the country had her photograph in his pocket along with strict instructions not to let her in. But that couldn’t stop the campaign against air conditioning; it spread like a wildfire across a parched prairie, as others took up the cause and ran naked with it. The shops and malls responded quickly by robustly caving into the protestors. It wasn’t much of a contest as it was in the complexes owners’ interests to turn off their expensive air conditioning. This allowed them to save large amounts of money whilst giving the outward appearance of caring for the environment. They almost fell over each other in the rush to turn off the fans. The only cloud in this clear blue sky was the faint possibility that some people out there would take the slogan; I’d rather have nothing on than have air con on, literally and turn up in the nude. They crossed their fingers, knocked on wood and hoped for rain.
Flushed with success the University of Canterbury Greensoc had one last, all naked, picnic in the summer countryside before scattering for the long summer break. Cat and Julie went hiking while Susie continued to promote the cause. She was everything that the media could have asked for, articulate, intelligent, persuasive and happy to take her clothes off. The camera loved her, clothed and unclothed. She steamed off into the limelight leaving Isla drifting miserably in the quiet backwaters.
“I think I’ll go back and see my folks” she announced to Henri as they sat quietly in the corner of a crowded beer garden. She paused and hesitated before continuing. “You wouldn’t like to come with me would you?”
To Isla’s surprise, and Henri’s utter astonishment he agreed.
“Isla’s coming home tomorrow” Marion announced to her husband, “and she’s bringing her boyfriend” That got Brian’s attention. They had both speculated about their daughter’s love life for some time; and, despite her robust denials, had long suspected Henri’s existence. “Get the loft room ready, Marion” was Brian’s reply. He didn’t care what they got up to at University, but it wasn’t happening under his roof.
“Shall I prime the tank trap dear?” enquired Marion
“Don’t be facetious” Brian continued at his most pompous, “and you can keep your clothes on for the duration of their stay”
“Aye, aye, capn” replied his naked wife giving him a mock salute. Brian watched her bare buttocks quiver as she strode out of the room to prepare the nest for the return of their wandering chick.
Marion sighed to herself as she cleaned the old attic bedroom. This time tomorrow she would be locked up in her prison clothes. She knew deep down that Brian was right, Isla’s boyfriend was an unknown quantity and it was probably for the best that his first memory of his future mother-in-law wasn’t of her naked. She interrupted her train of thought. What was she thinking of, she hadn’t even met the boy, and here she was marrying Isla off.
Brian was thinking quite the opposite, this boy was just a passing fancy, Isla would soon come to her senses and drop him for a nice quiet, sensible, medical student. He rather wished that Isla wasn’t bringing him at all. The only good thing he could think about Henri’s visit would be it would stop Marion pestering him to take his clothes off. The thought of nudity set his mind going again, worrying away, and gnawing away at the thought of his daughter’s protests and, worse still, that one mad night in the wood. Again and again he went over it in his mind, could they have been seen? It was a question he would never know the answer to, but that didn’t stop him tormenting himself.
Conversely Marion was worrying about having to wear clothes. She was smoothing the sheets on the bed as she pondered her predicament. Isla and the boyfriend wouldn’t be there all the time, so she could go nude when they were out, just keep something handy if they came back unexpectedly; and she could rely on Isla to call ahead just to give the time to dress. It would be like old times she thought warmly as she stared down at the garden from the dormer in the roof. All those months, she had sat naked in the house, listening for Brian’s return and scurrying to get dressed at the first throaty sound of the car’s engine in the drive. Unconsciously she scanned the shrubbery mapping out the hidden path to the gate. She suddenly realised what she had been doing and smiled, perhaps she could take a walk. ‘Oh yes’ she thought brightening up, her pulse quickening at the thought of the danger involved. She might even arrange to meet Linda in the lane. She warmed at the thrill of it, roaming naked, with the unsettling danger of being caught. Cheered tremendously by these thoughts she returned to the lounge where Brian was watching television.
“You’re still dressed” she scolded, “This will be our last chance for a few days to spend time together naked”
“It’s too cold” he complained
“Nonsense it’s the middle of summer, it’s far too hot for clothes. I fancy I don’t know how I will get through tomorrow…….”
Brian recognised a threat when he heard one; although he was beginning to feel there was not as much substance behind them as he once feared. As far as he was aware the only people who had seen Marion naked were Brian himself, their daughter and their neighbour Linda. The stricken man suddenly came to mind. This burst Brain’s pretty party balloon. Anyone who was prepared to walk the streets stark naked and not pass by on the other side when they meet a helpless soul would have no qualms about baring all in front of their daughter’s boyfriend. Suddenly sober, Brian quickly stood up and stripped.
Marion smiled as she contemplated the mound of bare flesh on the settee that was the spoils of her victory.
“I do think it’s a little mean putting Henri away in the attic.”
“I know I can’t control what they do in university Marion, but while they are under my roof there will be no shenanigans”
“You won’t be here al the time”
Marion paused while Brian ruminated on this,
“People do have sex in the day you know”
Brian was at his most haughty “I do hope Isla and her boyfriend will not abuse our hospitality”
“They could do it outside”
Brian shot a look at Marion, but she was staring out of the window, idly playing with he left nipple. He watched as she gave it a little squeeze. “There’s a place in the wood” she continued as she rolled her hand over her breast. Brian felt an unwanted stirring between his legs
“Do you remember the place” Marion’s voice was low and husky now. He certainly did, and so did his penis. “There’s nothing to stop them going there, after all it is so arousing, sex al fresco, don’t you think”
Brian didn’t have to think, his libido was doing all that for him. In desperation he crossed his legs and tried to stare at the picture of a stormy seashore hanging above the stone mantelpiece. It was no use, as if by magnetism his eyes were drawn towards his wife’s naked body and her left hand which was slowly, idly, and apparently unconsciously caressing her right breast. Suddenly, like a seal coming up for air, his perfidious penis burst free and poked its head out from between his legs,. Marion let go of her nipple and smiled, “There you are, I knew you remembered” Brain wasn’t sure she was talking to him.
Sunday, 7 March 2010
Fifteen
“Tally ho!”
Like a hunter who had just caught sight of a fox John announced the arrival of Isla’s bare body to a box marked public property.
“Whoo hoo, four naked fillies in a shopping mall. Would you look at that!”
He turned his screen around to show Brian. He had hoped that maybe, just maybe, but no. There she was in all her glory proudly holding a placard aloft. ‘Air con con’ was all the combined talent of the University of Canterbury was able to come up with, but it didn’t matter as nobody was looking at Isla’s slogan.
Brian had steeled himself for this moment, and instead of trying to bluff it out, went uncharacteristically onto the attack.
“I’ve seen it before” he told the enthusiastic John and the disapproving Jan. John, who was in full flow, screeched to halt.
“What?”
“She’s my daughter”
John stared closely at the screen. Jan, who up until now had been conveying silent messages of utter disgust at John’s lasciviousness, came to look too.
“My God,” said John, “it is Isla”
Jan was all sympathy, “Oh, I am so sorry Brian, how embarrassing”
Brian shrugged, “We tried to talk her out of it but she is completely committed to the cause”
“The last thing we need is a campaign against air conditioning” complained John, “it’s boiling in here”
“Well perhaps you should follow Brain’s daughter’s example” Jan told him.
“I will if you will”
Brian scrutinised John’s face very carefully. John had been trying to get inside Jan’s pants for months and Brian had a feeling he wasn’t getting anywhere near. The way he held Jan’s eyes for just a trifle longer than he would had he been familiar with his co workers’ body confirmed Brian’s suspicions.
Jan uttered the very words that were passing through Brain’s mind.
“In your dreams, mate”
Further discussion was curtailed by Marion’s phone call. Isla was on the national news at one. Not quite sure he was doing the right thing given John’s presence in the room Brian found the station’s webstream and the three of them gathered around the computer to watch his daughter and her friends parade naked through the Rockendon shopping mall.
It was a slow news day and the steaming weather was the top story. As the naked protest was related Brian only had to wait a few minutes before pictures of Isla, accompanied by a very skinny dark haired girl, and a large rotund blonde filled the screen. The camera quickly left them and zoomed in on the final member of the group.
“Will you look at that” John muttered under his breath. Even Jan gasped at the sight of Susie. Brian was ecstatic as he watched the gorgeous young woman lecturing a slavering reporter on the evils of air conditioning. He knew instantly that Isla was going to be sidelined completely. Susie was rattling off statistics faster than a demented politician defending the latest crime figures. No one was listening, there was only one figure of interest and that was the unwrapped body of Susan Blackwell. Tomorrow’s headlines had just written themselves, PHEW, WHAT A SCORCHER
“Oh my” said Linda. She and Marion were sitting naked in her kitchen watching the lunchtime news of television. “I wish I had her body” But Marion was not thinking about Susie’s perfection. Her mind was working in tandem with Brian’s, Isla was going to escape with much less exposure than she had feared. Meanwhile Linda continued to prattle on.
“She has a point, Marion, this heat so much more bearable without clothes. Wouldn’t it be wonderful if we could all walk around in the nude? Have you ever thought what it would be like to walk down the street naked? You should try it sometime”
Marion suddenly caught up with what her friend was saying.
“What do you mean Linda?” she asked carefully.
Linda looked at her with a hint of embarrassment.
“Can I tell you a secret?”
Marion nodded her head slowly, dreading what was coming next. “Well I’ve, sort of well.” The room felt utterly silent despite the constant commentary from the television, “I don’t want you to think any the less of me.”
“I won’t Linda” Marion told her quietly.
“Well I’ve taken to going for midnight walks, au natural, so to speak” she blurted, looking desperately to Marion for absolution. Mistaking her friend’s look of sheer terror for surprise, Linda began to apologise, “I’m so sorry. I’ve shocked you”
“Er no well, I have to admit this is all a bit sudden”
Linda breathed easily, “So my secret’s safe with you”
“Oh yes, after all, we’re both in the same club, if you see what I mean” said Marion running her eyes down Linda’s naked body to emphasise her point.
“You could say the same nudist club” replied Linda laughing heartily at her own joke.
Rule one, thought Marion, is to never ask a question you don’t know the answer to. “Were you the naked angel, Linda?”
“Oh no, but the story was my inspiration, it set me thinking, what would it be like to walk down the lane in the buff?”
“And what is it like?” asked Marion who was better placed to know.
“Absolutely wonderful, you should try it sometime, in fact I was out there last night”
Marion nearly fell off her chair. “Oh dear I am shocking you aren’t I?” said Linda mistaking her confidant’s utter panic for surprise. “It was brilliant; I went all the way to the edge of the wood.” Marion’s eyes were wide, she held her breath, as her friend continued blithely, “I was going in but I was put off by the animal noises”
Marion was desperately thinking how she should respond to this. She was supposed to be a respectable housewife, who, after being led astray by her friend, was now sitting stark naked in a strange kitchen. Linda, whom she had previously considered to be an upstanding member of the community, was now admitting she walked nude through the neighbourhood. Should she be expressing outrage, or disgust, or perhaps admiration for Linda’s daring do? In the event all that emerged from Marion’s lips was a small squeak. With all the relief of a sinner finally unburdening herself, Linda continued blithely on.
“I tell you I think there must be some wild boar living in there, what with the grunts and the squealing and panting. It made me think twice I can tell you.”
”Oh yes, I can imagine” agreed Marion, “so you came straight back?”
“Absolutely, I didn’t want to meet a wild animal, what if it had charged me? How would I explain that, being out and about in the all together”
“Quite” agreed Marion, and continued quickly “Well, I think I have to get back now as I’ve some work to be getting on with.” She picked up her shirt and pulled it over her head, before breezily telling Linda, not to bother to get dressed as she could see herself out.
“You won’t tell anyone will you?” Linda pleaded again.
“Oh no, my lips are sealed” replied Marion who had absolutely no intention of telling Brian his mating calls had been heard by their equally naked neighbour who had mistaken them both for a pair of pigs.
“Stay naked” called Linda hopefully as Marion left.
“I’ll think about it” she replied.
Sixteen
As soon as she closed her own front door behind her Marion peeled off her shirt and went for a sit down. After Linda’s revelations she felt she needed one. Once the shock of her close call had worn off Marion began to realise that Linda’s admission to night time nude jaunts was not the problem she had thought it was going to be. She could still continue her rambling and if she did bump into her friend in then she could claim that Linda had been her inspiration. Cheered by this thought Marion smiled and was about to start some work when the doorbell rang. Once more donning her emergency long shirt Marion opened the front door.
Every year the European cycle season stages a classic race called the Paris–Roubaix. It is known as The Hell of the North as it pitches the riders from smooth metalled surfaces onto rough cobbled tracks that jar both body and machine. Marion’s day seemed to be following just such a course, for standing on her front porch was the last person Marion wanted to see, ever.
“Good afternoon, Mrs Shaw”
She was a good head smaller than Marion, and casually dressed in a brief summer dress. She held out a pass with her photograph and the word PRESS in large red letters. Marion didn’t need to read the name, she recognised Julie Lewis by her curls. “My name is Julie Lewis; I’m a reporter for the Nelson Mercury”
Marion said nothing, she just stared, waiting for, and dreading the next line. When it came it was a pleasant surprise, “I wonder if you had any comment on your daughter’s protest in the mall down in Christchurch this morning”
“Well naturally I have to give her my support and I am very proud of her conviction and dedication for such an important cause. I’m sure we all share her concern for the environment, and if Isla’s actions have some effect then it will have all been worthwhile”
“So you are happy that pictures of your daughter’s naked body are in the public domain?”
“Well I do wish she had chosen a different way of getting her point across.”
“Did she inform you she would be making a nude protest?”
”Oh yes we knew.”
”What does her father think, is Mr Shaw at home?”
“No he is at work, but he also gives Isla his support”
“I have spoken to your husband before, Mrs Shaw, on the reports of the naked angel. Was that your daughter too?”
“Absolutely not” replied the true angel, “Isla was away at university at the time. Has that cook woken up yet?”
Marion winced, she asked that too quickly. Fortunately the reporter didn’t pick up on it.
“Yes, but he remembers nothing of the evening”
Relief flooded Marion’s body like summer returning to a frozen wasteland.
“Or so he says” Julie Lewis paused, and smiled before continuing in a more conciliatory manner. “Look, Mrs Shaw, I think we can help each other here”
Oh, how” she snapped. It was Julie’s turn to wince. Marion gave her a small smile; she was still on tenterhooks and had not meant to be so sharp.
“Well, you are going to have journalists from the national papers contacting you. I could head them off for you. If they knew we had an exclusive, they will use the Mercury as a feed.”
“I see” said Marion thoughtfully.
Encouraged by the slight thaw she continued “what I would like is an inside story of your daughter’s protest, a local angle for the paper”
“Well I don’t know, that would be up to Isla”
“Would you put it to her, after all she is doing this for the publicity, and all I’m offering is more.”
Marion thought about this, and although she viewed Julie Lewis as an enemy hunting her down, it’s usually a good ploy to keep the enemy where you can see them.
“Come in” she said, “let me contact my daughter”
Marion led Julie through the darkened hall into the kitchen. She gestured to a high chair next to the breakfast bar. Mindful of the fact she was not wearing any underwear, Marion remained standing as she enquired if her guest would like a drink.
“Oh, yes please, its baking today, your daughter picked the right time for her protest, I almost feel like joining her” She laughed nervously as Marion shot her a piercing look. There would be nothing she would like better than to see her persecutor laid bare
Isla was full of herself and quite prepared to talk to the journalist. Mainly because this was actually her first interview, all the other journalists and TV crews had swarmed like bees around the honey pot that was Susie. Marion listened in as Julie talked to her daughter.
“I’d like to publish a form of a diary”
“No just yours, you are the local girl”
“No, photographs will be head and shoulders only, but we might stretch our readers’ sensitivities to a bare bum or two.”
“If I could join you on a protest; that would be great”
She laughed nervously. “No, I don’t think I’m up to that”
“Committee meeting, well I suppose so, if they are closed, and everyone else is”
Good girl thought Marion, get her kit off.
“Tomorrow, Cathedral Square, at ten, I’ll be there”
Later as they sat in twilight’s last hot and sweaty gleaming on their patio, Brain and Marion discussed the day. They agreed it had gone better than it could have. Brian had received much sympathy at work, but to enable them to empathise with Brian’s despair everyone had to have a good look at Isla’s bare body. Julie Lewis had been good to her word; no other journalists had bothered them. After much thought, Marion had given Brian a heavily abridged account of Linda’s nudity. She kept it to the sunbathing only. Given the surprise on his face Marion could only imagine the effect the news of her wandering the neighbourhood would have on him. If Brian had found out Linda was out and about at the same time as they were last night Marion would have been called upon to make her second au natural emergency call.
“You mustn’t tell anyone about Linda” she admonished him earnestly as she eyed his big grin, “I promised her I wouldn’t tell you.” Marion paused for effect “After all, how would you like it if I told her about you?”
It took five minutes and a glass of water to cure Brian’s coughing fit.
Like a hunter who had just caught sight of a fox John announced the arrival of Isla’s bare body to a box marked public property.
“Whoo hoo, four naked fillies in a shopping mall. Would you look at that!”
He turned his screen around to show Brian. He had hoped that maybe, just maybe, but no. There she was in all her glory proudly holding a placard aloft. ‘Air con con’ was all the combined talent of the University of Canterbury was able to come up with, but it didn’t matter as nobody was looking at Isla’s slogan.
Brian had steeled himself for this moment, and instead of trying to bluff it out, went uncharacteristically onto the attack.
“I’ve seen it before” he told the enthusiastic John and the disapproving Jan. John, who was in full flow, screeched to halt.
“What?”
“She’s my daughter”
John stared closely at the screen. Jan, who up until now had been conveying silent messages of utter disgust at John’s lasciviousness, came to look too.
“My God,” said John, “it is Isla”
Jan was all sympathy, “Oh, I am so sorry Brian, how embarrassing”
Brian shrugged, “We tried to talk her out of it but she is completely committed to the cause”
“The last thing we need is a campaign against air conditioning” complained John, “it’s boiling in here”
“Well perhaps you should follow Brain’s daughter’s example” Jan told him.
“I will if you will”
Brian scrutinised John’s face very carefully. John had been trying to get inside Jan’s pants for months and Brian had a feeling he wasn’t getting anywhere near. The way he held Jan’s eyes for just a trifle longer than he would had he been familiar with his co workers’ body confirmed Brian’s suspicions.
Jan uttered the very words that were passing through Brain’s mind.
“In your dreams, mate”
Further discussion was curtailed by Marion’s phone call. Isla was on the national news at one. Not quite sure he was doing the right thing given John’s presence in the room Brian found the station’s webstream and the three of them gathered around the computer to watch his daughter and her friends parade naked through the Rockendon shopping mall.
It was a slow news day and the steaming weather was the top story. As the naked protest was related Brian only had to wait a few minutes before pictures of Isla, accompanied by a very skinny dark haired girl, and a large rotund blonde filled the screen. The camera quickly left them and zoomed in on the final member of the group.
“Will you look at that” John muttered under his breath. Even Jan gasped at the sight of Susie. Brian was ecstatic as he watched the gorgeous young woman lecturing a slavering reporter on the evils of air conditioning. He knew instantly that Isla was going to be sidelined completely. Susie was rattling off statistics faster than a demented politician defending the latest crime figures. No one was listening, there was only one figure of interest and that was the unwrapped body of Susan Blackwell. Tomorrow’s headlines had just written themselves, PHEW, WHAT A SCORCHER
“Oh my” said Linda. She and Marion were sitting naked in her kitchen watching the lunchtime news of television. “I wish I had her body” But Marion was not thinking about Susie’s perfection. Her mind was working in tandem with Brian’s, Isla was going to escape with much less exposure than she had feared. Meanwhile Linda continued to prattle on.
“She has a point, Marion, this heat so much more bearable without clothes. Wouldn’t it be wonderful if we could all walk around in the nude? Have you ever thought what it would be like to walk down the street naked? You should try it sometime”
Marion suddenly caught up with what her friend was saying.
“What do you mean Linda?” she asked carefully.
Linda looked at her with a hint of embarrassment.
“Can I tell you a secret?”
Marion nodded her head slowly, dreading what was coming next. “Well I’ve, sort of well.” The room felt utterly silent despite the constant commentary from the television, “I don’t want you to think any the less of me.”
“I won’t Linda” Marion told her quietly.
“Well I’ve taken to going for midnight walks, au natural, so to speak” she blurted, looking desperately to Marion for absolution. Mistaking her friend’s look of sheer terror for surprise, Linda began to apologise, “I’m so sorry. I’ve shocked you”
“Er no well, I have to admit this is all a bit sudden”
Linda breathed easily, “So my secret’s safe with you”
“Oh yes, after all, we’re both in the same club, if you see what I mean” said Marion running her eyes down Linda’s naked body to emphasise her point.
“You could say the same nudist club” replied Linda laughing heartily at her own joke.
Rule one, thought Marion, is to never ask a question you don’t know the answer to. “Were you the naked angel, Linda?”
“Oh no, but the story was my inspiration, it set me thinking, what would it be like to walk down the lane in the buff?”
“And what is it like?” asked Marion who was better placed to know.
“Absolutely wonderful, you should try it sometime, in fact I was out there last night”
Marion nearly fell off her chair. “Oh dear I am shocking you aren’t I?” said Linda mistaking her confidant’s utter panic for surprise. “It was brilliant; I went all the way to the edge of the wood.” Marion’s eyes were wide, she held her breath, as her friend continued blithely, “I was going in but I was put off by the animal noises”
Marion was desperately thinking how she should respond to this. She was supposed to be a respectable housewife, who, after being led astray by her friend, was now sitting stark naked in a strange kitchen. Linda, whom she had previously considered to be an upstanding member of the community, was now admitting she walked nude through the neighbourhood. Should she be expressing outrage, or disgust, or perhaps admiration for Linda’s daring do? In the event all that emerged from Marion’s lips was a small squeak. With all the relief of a sinner finally unburdening herself, Linda continued blithely on.
“I tell you I think there must be some wild boar living in there, what with the grunts and the squealing and panting. It made me think twice I can tell you.”
”Oh yes, I can imagine” agreed Marion, “so you came straight back?”
“Absolutely, I didn’t want to meet a wild animal, what if it had charged me? How would I explain that, being out and about in the all together”
“Quite” agreed Marion, and continued quickly “Well, I think I have to get back now as I’ve some work to be getting on with.” She picked up her shirt and pulled it over her head, before breezily telling Linda, not to bother to get dressed as she could see herself out.
“You won’t tell anyone will you?” Linda pleaded again.
“Oh no, my lips are sealed” replied Marion who had absolutely no intention of telling Brian his mating calls had been heard by their equally naked neighbour who had mistaken them both for a pair of pigs.
“Stay naked” called Linda hopefully as Marion left.
“I’ll think about it” she replied.
Sixteen
As soon as she closed her own front door behind her Marion peeled off her shirt and went for a sit down. After Linda’s revelations she felt she needed one. Once the shock of her close call had worn off Marion began to realise that Linda’s admission to night time nude jaunts was not the problem she had thought it was going to be. She could still continue her rambling and if she did bump into her friend in then she could claim that Linda had been her inspiration. Cheered by this thought Marion smiled and was about to start some work when the doorbell rang. Once more donning her emergency long shirt Marion opened the front door.
Every year the European cycle season stages a classic race called the Paris–Roubaix. It is known as The Hell of the North as it pitches the riders from smooth metalled surfaces onto rough cobbled tracks that jar both body and machine. Marion’s day seemed to be following just such a course, for standing on her front porch was the last person Marion wanted to see, ever.
“Good afternoon, Mrs Shaw”
She was a good head smaller than Marion, and casually dressed in a brief summer dress. She held out a pass with her photograph and the word PRESS in large red letters. Marion didn’t need to read the name, she recognised Julie Lewis by her curls. “My name is Julie Lewis; I’m a reporter for the Nelson Mercury”
Marion said nothing, she just stared, waiting for, and dreading the next line. When it came it was a pleasant surprise, “I wonder if you had any comment on your daughter’s protest in the mall down in Christchurch this morning”
“Well naturally I have to give her my support and I am very proud of her conviction and dedication for such an important cause. I’m sure we all share her concern for the environment, and if Isla’s actions have some effect then it will have all been worthwhile”
“So you are happy that pictures of your daughter’s naked body are in the public domain?”
“Well I do wish she had chosen a different way of getting her point across.”
“Did she inform you she would be making a nude protest?”
”Oh yes we knew.”
”What does her father think, is Mr Shaw at home?”
“No he is at work, but he also gives Isla his support”
“I have spoken to your husband before, Mrs Shaw, on the reports of the naked angel. Was that your daughter too?”
“Absolutely not” replied the true angel, “Isla was away at university at the time. Has that cook woken up yet?”
Marion winced, she asked that too quickly. Fortunately the reporter didn’t pick up on it.
“Yes, but he remembers nothing of the evening”
Relief flooded Marion’s body like summer returning to a frozen wasteland.
“Or so he says” Julie Lewis paused, and smiled before continuing in a more conciliatory manner. “Look, Mrs Shaw, I think we can help each other here”
Oh, how” she snapped. It was Julie’s turn to wince. Marion gave her a small smile; she was still on tenterhooks and had not meant to be so sharp.
“Well, you are going to have journalists from the national papers contacting you. I could head them off for you. If they knew we had an exclusive, they will use the Mercury as a feed.”
“I see” said Marion thoughtfully.
Encouraged by the slight thaw she continued “what I would like is an inside story of your daughter’s protest, a local angle for the paper”
“Well I don’t know, that would be up to Isla”
“Would you put it to her, after all she is doing this for the publicity, and all I’m offering is more.”
Marion thought about this, and although she viewed Julie Lewis as an enemy hunting her down, it’s usually a good ploy to keep the enemy where you can see them.
“Come in” she said, “let me contact my daughter”
Marion led Julie through the darkened hall into the kitchen. She gestured to a high chair next to the breakfast bar. Mindful of the fact she was not wearing any underwear, Marion remained standing as she enquired if her guest would like a drink.
“Oh, yes please, its baking today, your daughter picked the right time for her protest, I almost feel like joining her” She laughed nervously as Marion shot her a piercing look. There would be nothing she would like better than to see her persecutor laid bare
Isla was full of herself and quite prepared to talk to the journalist. Mainly because this was actually her first interview, all the other journalists and TV crews had swarmed like bees around the honey pot that was Susie. Marion listened in as Julie talked to her daughter.
“I’d like to publish a form of a diary”
“No just yours, you are the local girl”
“No, photographs will be head and shoulders only, but we might stretch our readers’ sensitivities to a bare bum or two.”
“If I could join you on a protest; that would be great”
She laughed nervously. “No, I don’t think I’m up to that”
“Committee meeting, well I suppose so, if they are closed, and everyone else is”
Good girl thought Marion, get her kit off.
“Tomorrow, Cathedral Square, at ten, I’ll be there”
Later as they sat in twilight’s last hot and sweaty gleaming on their patio, Brain and Marion discussed the day. They agreed it had gone better than it could have. Brian had received much sympathy at work, but to enable them to empathise with Brian’s despair everyone had to have a good look at Isla’s bare body. Julie Lewis had been good to her word; no other journalists had bothered them. After much thought, Marion had given Brian a heavily abridged account of Linda’s nudity. She kept it to the sunbathing only. Given the surprise on his face Marion could only imagine the effect the news of her wandering the neighbourhood would have on him. If Brian had found out Linda was out and about at the same time as they were last night Marion would have been called upon to make her second au natural emergency call.
“You mustn’t tell anyone about Linda” she admonished him earnestly as she eyed his big grin, “I promised her I wouldn’t tell you.” Marion paused for effect “After all, how would you like it if I told her about you?”
It took five minutes and a glass of water to cure Brian’s coughing fit.
Fourteen
Brian had been living on his nerves all day. He had drunk at least five cups of coffee. The caffeine had left him agitated and unable to settle to his work. He stared at his computer screen, like an artist that had lost his muse, desperate for inspiration
“That’s the eighth time today” commented John as he left for the toilet.
The source of his worry wasn’t difficult to pin point. Firstly there was the previous night. At the time he was elated, running on adrenalin. Now in the cold light of day the magnitude of his folly gnawed at his guts like an acid. How could he have been so stupid? Running around the streets stark naked. Anyone could have been passing, coming home from the night shift, or a party. A police patrol could have come by. The list things that could have gone wrong was as endless as the Pacific and Brian could have spent all day worrying about it if he hadn’t another more pressing concern.
It was too late to hope that Isla would back out of her protest. The deed was done. A bight and breezy text message from Isla confirmed to Brian that his daughter’s bare body would soon be available to the whole world courtesy of the Internet. He was now waiting with all the fatality of a truant outside the headmaster’s office for her naked flesh to drop into John’s inbox. He had managed a snatched phone call with Marion, who didn’t seem the least worried, but given her hobby Brain could see why.
“At least she didn’t get arrested” his wife had told him.
“That’s not the point, Marion, pictures of her in the nude will be everywhere, everyone she ever meet from now will know precisely what’s under her dress ”
“You sound just like your mother.”
Brian slapped his hand on his forehead, “What the hell did you phone her for?” he demanded.
“I didn’t. Isla did”
The day was going from bad to worse. Brian was about to remonstrate further when Jan and John came back into the office.
“Got to go now” he said quickly and hung up.
Marion had been a trifle nonplussed by this, but a ring at the door stopped her pursuing that line of thought. She padded off towards the front door, just remembering to pull on a long shirt that came down to her knees before she opened it.
“Hi Marion, it’s only me” said Linda, stating the obvious, and without pausing for an invitation, stepped into the hall. “It’s so hot” she complained, I nearly went for a drive just to put the air con on”
Marion spotted an opening and went for it. “That would upset my daughter” Linda stopped, put her head on one side and gave Marion a quizzical look. This was the chance she had been hoping for. So without further preamble Marion explained Isla’s protest.
“So she was the naked angel” was Linda’s only comment.
“Couldn’t be” replied the real naked angel, “Isla was in college a the time, besides, you know there was nothing in that story”
Linda looked long and carefully at Marion and a sudden thought popped into her head.
“Marion can I ask you a personal question?”
“Of course” she replied, expecting some question on the morality of Isla’s protest.
”What have you got on under that shirt”
Caught unawares Marion answered truthfully.
“Nothing,” before qualifying herself, “well er it’s so hot I er”
“I know” continued Linda, “I’m finding this weather unbearable, and let me let you into a little secret,” she leant forward confidentially, “I’ve actually been wandering around in the buff”
Marion was speechless. This was what she was supposed to say.
“Don’t say anything” continued Linda, “I know it’s not the done thing, but … it was so hot and something just came over me.” She looked at her friend and pouted “you don’t think any less of me do you?”
“Er no, not at all” said Marion who was thinking that Linda had stolen her clothes, in a manner of speaking.
“Have you ever thought of trying it?” Linda whispered
“I….I”
“You don’t have to if you don’t want to.” Linda leaned forward and took Marion’s hand. It felt warm and claddy as she pleaded “Just, please don’t tell anybody”
Marion, the real naked angel, pulled herself together and told her friend haltingly that she’d screw her courage to the sticking post and give it a go. Linda beamed in the knowledge that her secret would be safe. Marion smiled at her friend’s naivety. Her secret would be safe until Brian came home.
Marion was about to remove the shirt she had been wearing for all of ten minutes when Linda took charge.
“I’ve set up a secluded sunbathing area in the garden, why don’t you come over?”
Marion, paused, once again wrong footed by her friend. “Well, right, I’ll just get my phone in case there’s more developments on the Isla front.”
And so wearing just a long shirt and a pair of sandals Marion followed her friend out of the front door. Amazingly she felt exposed in her knickerless state. ‘Pull yourself together Marion’ she thought ‘the last time you went for a walk outside you were stark naked’
“Cold drink?” enquired Linda as she led the way into her voluminous kitchen.
“Yes please”
“Lemonade?”
“Perfect” replied Marion as she took the proffered glass.
Linda held hers and proffered a toast. “To us”
Marion responded. “To us”
Linda put her glass down and grabbed the hem of her short summer dress.
“Ready?”
Marion laid her glass on the cool, grey, marble work surface of Linda’s kitchen, crossed her arms and took a firm grip on her shirt.
“One, two, three go” shouted Linda. And then they both stood there staring at each other’s bare body for the first time. Marion’s eyes swept over her younger friend’s small breasts with the puffiest nipples she had ever seen, the stretch marks left by her two children on an otherwise perfectly flat stomach, her wide hips and an oddly rectangular patch of well trimmed pubic hair. She suddenly remembered her manners and whipped her eyes back up to meet Linda’s. She needn’t have worried for while Marion had been inspecting her friend’s birthday suit, Linda had been giving Marion the once over, and it was with perfect timing they both brought their gaze back to eye level. In unison both women broke into wide grins which dissolved into a fit of giggles.
“Let’s go outside” Linda said picking up her glass and leading the way into the bright mid morning light.
“That’s the eighth time today” commented John as he left for the toilet.
The source of his worry wasn’t difficult to pin point. Firstly there was the previous night. At the time he was elated, running on adrenalin. Now in the cold light of day the magnitude of his folly gnawed at his guts like an acid. How could he have been so stupid? Running around the streets stark naked. Anyone could have been passing, coming home from the night shift, or a party. A police patrol could have come by. The list things that could have gone wrong was as endless as the Pacific and Brian could have spent all day worrying about it if he hadn’t another more pressing concern.
It was too late to hope that Isla would back out of her protest. The deed was done. A bight and breezy text message from Isla confirmed to Brian that his daughter’s bare body would soon be available to the whole world courtesy of the Internet. He was now waiting with all the fatality of a truant outside the headmaster’s office for her naked flesh to drop into John’s inbox. He had managed a snatched phone call with Marion, who didn’t seem the least worried, but given her hobby Brain could see why.
“At least she didn’t get arrested” his wife had told him.
“That’s not the point, Marion, pictures of her in the nude will be everywhere, everyone she ever meet from now will know precisely what’s under her dress ”
“You sound just like your mother.”
Brian slapped his hand on his forehead, “What the hell did you phone her for?” he demanded.
“I didn’t. Isla did”
The day was going from bad to worse. Brian was about to remonstrate further when Jan and John came back into the office.
“Got to go now” he said quickly and hung up.
Marion had been a trifle nonplussed by this, but a ring at the door stopped her pursuing that line of thought. She padded off towards the front door, just remembering to pull on a long shirt that came down to her knees before she opened it.
“Hi Marion, it’s only me” said Linda, stating the obvious, and without pausing for an invitation, stepped into the hall. “It’s so hot” she complained, I nearly went for a drive just to put the air con on”
Marion spotted an opening and went for it. “That would upset my daughter” Linda stopped, put her head on one side and gave Marion a quizzical look. This was the chance she had been hoping for. So without further preamble Marion explained Isla’s protest.
“So she was the naked angel” was Linda’s only comment.
“Couldn’t be” replied the real naked angel, “Isla was in college a the time, besides, you know there was nothing in that story”
Linda looked long and carefully at Marion and a sudden thought popped into her head.
“Marion can I ask you a personal question?”
“Of course” she replied, expecting some question on the morality of Isla’s protest.
”What have you got on under that shirt”
Caught unawares Marion answered truthfully.
“Nothing,” before qualifying herself, “well er it’s so hot I er”
“I know” continued Linda, “I’m finding this weather unbearable, and let me let you into a little secret,” she leant forward confidentially, “I’ve actually been wandering around in the buff”
Marion was speechless. This was what she was supposed to say.
“Don’t say anything” continued Linda, “I know it’s not the done thing, but … it was so hot and something just came over me.” She looked at her friend and pouted “you don’t think any less of me do you?”
“Er no, not at all” said Marion who was thinking that Linda had stolen her clothes, in a manner of speaking.
“Have you ever thought of trying it?” Linda whispered
“I….I”
“You don’t have to if you don’t want to.” Linda leaned forward and took Marion’s hand. It felt warm and claddy as she pleaded “Just, please don’t tell anybody”
Marion, the real naked angel, pulled herself together and told her friend haltingly that she’d screw her courage to the sticking post and give it a go. Linda beamed in the knowledge that her secret would be safe. Marion smiled at her friend’s naivety. Her secret would be safe until Brian came home.
Marion was about to remove the shirt she had been wearing for all of ten minutes when Linda took charge.
“I’ve set up a secluded sunbathing area in the garden, why don’t you come over?”
Marion, paused, once again wrong footed by her friend. “Well, right, I’ll just get my phone in case there’s more developments on the Isla front.”
And so wearing just a long shirt and a pair of sandals Marion followed her friend out of the front door. Amazingly she felt exposed in her knickerless state. ‘Pull yourself together Marion’ she thought ‘the last time you went for a walk outside you were stark naked’
“Cold drink?” enquired Linda as she led the way into her voluminous kitchen.
“Yes please”
“Lemonade?”
“Perfect” replied Marion as she took the proffered glass.
Linda held hers and proffered a toast. “To us”
Marion responded. “To us”
Linda put her glass down and grabbed the hem of her short summer dress.
“Ready?”
Marion laid her glass on the cool, grey, marble work surface of Linda’s kitchen, crossed her arms and took a firm grip on her shirt.
“One, two, three go” shouted Linda. And then they both stood there staring at each other’s bare body for the first time. Marion’s eyes swept over her younger friend’s small breasts with the puffiest nipples she had ever seen, the stretch marks left by her two children on an otherwise perfectly flat stomach, her wide hips and an oddly rectangular patch of well trimmed pubic hair. She suddenly remembered her manners and whipped her eyes back up to meet Linda’s. She needn’t have worried for while Marion had been inspecting her friend’s birthday suit, Linda had been giving Marion the once over, and it was with perfect timing they both brought their gaze back to eye level. In unison both women broke into wide grins which dissolved into a fit of giggles.
“Let’s go outside” Linda said picking up her glass and leading the way into the bright mid morning light.
Thursday, 11 February 2010
Thirteen
The day had burnt like a furnace that had scorched the earth. The midsummer sun had passed across the sky like a flame that burnt red in the western sky before setting in a calm sea washed of all colour. But the night that brought no relief from the stifling heat. Brian woke with a start in a bed soaked in sweat. He emerged trembling from a fitful dream, a nightmare where he had walked naked through his local supermarket to the astonishment and disgust of his friends and neighbours who pointed mockingly at his exposed genitals and jeered with cruel laughter at the size of his hairy behind. He did not need a Jung to analyse this dream, he knew its source well, his headstrong daughter Isla. Tomorrow she would begin her bare all campaign against air conditioning, and there was nothing he could do to stop it, no reasoning would sway her from the path she had held unswervingly for the past four months. His distress was instantly doubled when he turned to his wife looking for comfort, only to find Marion gone. With no thought to his own nudity he dashed down the stairs, his swaying genitals slapping gently against his bare legs.
All his fears were realised when, racing into the kitchen he found the door to the garden wide open. He tip toed to the threshold and peeped out. To his relief Marion was sitting in a chair on the sun terrace. She was completely naked of course, but at least she wasn’t off down the lane like a character from a warped nursery rhyme.
“What are you doing Marion?” he hissed, so as not to wake the neighbours.
“Trying to cool down” she replied quietly.
“What if somebody sees you?”
”Don’t be stupid Brian” responded Marion with some distain, “we ate supper out here starkers while it was still light, who’s going to see us now”
Brian had to admit she had a point. Isla had deliberately grown her bush since Christmas, and so had Marion, except her bush acted as a privacy screen to save her from the neighbours prying eyes. Or was it vice versa? Brian was never quite sure. Such had been the fierce heat of the day that Brian, who usually remained clothed at all times had joined his wife for a bare all session when he had come home sweating and irritable from a sweltering day at the office, which, to his daughter’s great satisfaction used a novel form of air conditioning called windows. For once Brian appreciated his wife’s lifestyle, marvelling in the refreshing feelings of a total lack of clothing.
Confident in the efficiency of his wife’s shrubbery screen Brian slipped on his sandals and joined her in the fragrant night air. Unseen, the door swung silently closed behind him and it wasn’t until it gave out a portentous click that Brain realised his error. To his horror he had locked them both out of the house. “Oh my God” he hissed in complete panic, “we’re locked out.” Marion, who had been on her way for a midnight stroll, was prepared for such an eventuality.
“Don’t panic, Brian” she told him holding up a key that he could just make out in the light from the Milky Way high above them. Assuaged her husband sat back in the garden chair and relaxed. Silence hung between them like a thread as they drunk in the starlit sky and the faint breeze that brought a heady scent from the end of the garden.
“Smell that” Marion asked.
“Mmm” he replied with contentment.
“I wonder what it is?” And with that she was gone.
“Marion, come back” pleaded Brain. He had to stop her, and so with great care he ventured out into the garden. There was nothing to fear for Marion’s careful gardening had ensured seclusion, and safe in the knowledge that nobody could catch a glimpse of his birthday suit Brian tripped along the garden path after the fading pale blob that was his wife’s bare behind. Like a moth to a night flower he homed onto her bottom that protruded upwards from a flowerbed.
“Beautiful” she said, meaning the flower
“Yes indeed” agreed Brian, meaning his wife’s buttocks.
“Why Brian” said Marion, turning to look at him, “I do believe there is something growing in your shrubbery.” He quickly turned sideways but this merely served to emphasise the object of his wife’s attention. She reached out and stroked him gently.
“Have you ever thought of making love in the wild” she whispered in his ear.
“No” he said abruptly, but his heart was beating strong and his mind was no longer in control as Marion continued to stroke his mutinous penis.
“I know a bank where the wild thyme blows,” she whispered into his ear, her breath hot in that midsummer night, “Where oxlips and the nodding violet grows,
quite over-canopied with luscious woodbine, with sweet musk-roses and with eglantine.”
“Are you talking about the wood?”
Brian had spent many hours in the nearby wood with is infant daughter. He could not think of anywhere that matched Shakespeare’s description of a fairy queen’s bed.
“Come on Brian” murmured his wife, “let’s live a little”
“This is madness, Marion” he protested, “what if someone sees us”
But all his protests were in vein as his erection grew in his wife’s hand. With a quick tug they were on their way out of the back gate and down the lane; hand in penis following their own Midsummer night’s dream.
A few score miles away, for exactly the same reasons as her father, Isla was also having trouble sleeping, and she decided on a similar remedy. She turned to Henri who lay flat on his back, fast asleep, but that was not an insurmountable problem and so, at exactly the same time as her mother reached out and grabbed her father’s penis, her daughter began to stroke life into Henri’s. Like her mother Isla was pleased with the success of her labours as Henri first stood to attention and then marched quickly out of the land of his midsummer night’s dreams. Fully aroused he rolled over right on top of Isla, fully prepared to thrust his swollen ardour into her, before a firm hand on the chest brought him up short.
“What” he exclaimed
“No you can’t” Isla told him firmly.
“Why not?”
“At ten o’clock tomorrow morning I am going to parade around the shopping mall stark naked”
They, well Susie, had decided on this time so the pictures would make the midday news bulletins.
“I know. Why is that a problem? They won’t be able to see you had sex the night before”
“They might”
“What”
“What goes up must come down” replied Isla in the manner of a school teacher talking to a backward child.
“Oh, I didn’t realise”
“No, you never end up with the sticky pants, do you?”
That wasn’t exactly true, but Henri knew when to keep his mouth shut.
“So why did you bother to wake me”
“I couldn’t sleep”
“Oh great” he replied in frustration.
Isla smiled seductively. “But……..Since you are awake you can make yourself useful”
“If you think I’m going to make a cup of tea!”
“That’s not what I had in mind at all” she replied pushing his head down under the thin sheet covering her body, “you don’t have to make a deposit to get my interest”
Henri sighed and bent his back as a slave to the night; for after all she might reciprocate later.
As Henri began to alternately kiss Isla’s small breasts, her equally naked mother was pulling her father down onto her in a shady hollow beneath a rustling oak that Marion had earmarked, more in hope than expectation, a few weeks ago. Brian was no longer hesitant and completely lost in the moment entered his wife without waiting for an invitation. Caught by surprise Marion gave out a startled gasp which her husband interpreted as an exclamation of ecstasy to which he responded with deep rhythmic thrusts.
In the privacy of her bedroom Isla was also in rapture as Henri’s experienced tongue explored her erogenous zones. She let a small moan of elation as he probed her engorged clitoris. Far to north Marion also let out a moan. This was not turning out as she had expected at all, the bracken beneath her irritated her skin and she was certain some blood sucking insect was crawling all over her back about to bite. And so, at exactly the same moment as her daughter arched her back in the pleasure of orgasm Marion arched hers in an attempt to dislodge the thrusting Brian. All this did was to trigger a massive orgasm in her husband who, when he had deposited every last drop of, what to Marion seemed, an enormous amount of semen, flopped forward and lay motionless on top of her, lost in his afterglow.
Henri was similarly disappointed, as, just like her father Isla had immediately fallen asleep post coitus. He lay there idly playing with himself and thinking about Susie’s ravishing naked body a mere nine inches away. Unfortunately that space was filled with a solid layer of breeze blocks, so Henri had to make do with the memory from the meeting and the anticipation of the day to come.
The wood which had seemed so quiet when they had entered it full of anticipation was now as noisy as a rush hour rail station. Marion was aware of every rustle of animals as they stole through the bushes, the hoot of the owl in the trees where the leaves rattled and wheezed in the breeze like an old man with a fever. Her back was itching worse than chickenpox and she was desperate to go home, but she was unable to move, pinned underneath the prone body of her husband. There was nothing for it, it had to be done. She leaned her head forward and whispered three little words that were guaranteed to get his attention.
“Darling, it’s getting light”
These cut through his post orgasmic slumber like a red hot poker through a snow bank; and without further ado, he was pulling Marion up to her feet and dragging her back towards the lane. She just managed to stop him before they reached the open ground that led to the style.
“Wait” she hissed, “we have to check no one is looking out” This stopped him soon enough. There were no lights to be seen at any of the windows, but the curtains and all the windows of the houses of Belvoir Avenue were wide open, desperately searching for a cooling breeze.
“We’ll just have to chance it” said Brian and without further ado he sprinted for the style, where he without warning he stopped dead causing Marion to career into the back of him, The slap of naked flesh on naked flesh resounded through the still night like a rifle shot. As soldiers caught in an ambush the bare couple threw themselves to the ground. Brian uttered a grunt as the solid earth forced the air from his lungs, Marion, however, landed in something rather more soft and squigy something that had an unpleasant and sadly familiar smell. “Ur” she exclaimed getting to her feet, not caring if anyone was there to see or not. “Just when I thought things couldn’t get any worse” she muttered and grabbing two handfuls of grass she miserably wiped off the cow dung that clung to her breasts as best she could. “What’s that smell” said Brain at her side, “is that you?”
“Let’s just get home” Marion pleaded. Brian tip toed to the style and peeked over. The lane was bible black, nothing stirred in the blind shadows. “Let’s go” Brian hissed urgently and without waiting for his wife’s reply he hopped over the style, his low swinging testicles avoiding a painful brush with the crumbling wood by the width of a pubic hair. He didn’t need to turn to check Marion was following as he could plainly smell the remnants the manure covering her modesty.
Silently, they stole along the crow black lane towards the street with no name, where the light from Belvoir Avenue shone as bright for them as any midday sun. Here they stopped, ears pricked, as alert as a mouse in an open field. As she stood silently behind her husband Marion grimly became aware of a warm sticky stream dribbling down the inside of her bare thigh. This night was going from bad to worse she thought, as she wiped Brian’s semen from her leg. She sniffed it experimentally just to confirm her suspicions, but she knew exactly what it was, for as her daughter had told Henri less than an hour before, what goes up must come down. She wiped her hand on Brain’s bare back glowing pale orange in front of her.
“Ugh, what’s that?” he complained as he felt the slimy fluid.
“Yours” replied Marion, who was long past caring if anyone was in the road. Without so much as glance she strode brazenly across the road and into the lane that led to their garden gate. Brian scurried after her cursing silently to himself.
Safely inside the house Marion inspected the damage in the hall mirror. The whole of her front was streaked with cow dung, her hair looked like the bracken she had been lying on, and Brain’s semen had reached the knee of her left leg and the ankle of her right. All Brain could worry about was whether they had been seen.
“I don’t think so” she told him in a voice that clearly indicated that at that moment she wouldn’t have cared if the Mayor and the whole of the town council had been taking photographs. Muttering in disgust she headed straight to shower, leaving Brain to do as he willed.
Half an hour later Marion was much refreshed and headed off to find her husband who, she felt most definitely, owed her an orgasm. She tracked him to the bedroom where, like their daughter he lay fast asleep. With a sigh Marion went to the front window to check the street. It was as empty as the main square of a French town at lunchtime and all the windows of the houses were as blind as moles.
“Ah well,” she muttered to herself, “at least there was nobody else around”
But she was wrong; for many nights now a lonely figure had waited in the shadows that lay deep upon the street with no name, in the increasingly forlorn hope of catching sight of the naked angel. Perhaps there was no such thing, perhaps the story had been, after all the ramblings of a seriously ill man. And then suddenly when all hope was nearly lost there she was, strolling across road in all her naked glory. Desperate to remain unseen the watcher drew back into the coal black shadows hardly daring to breathe. The seconds ticked silently by; when enough time had lapsed for the stranger to be sure the angel would not return, the silent figure left the dark corner and crept to the entrance of the back lane. The alley was empty, but the stranger pressed on, shying away from the patches of starlight, confident that the quarry had not gone far. A light suddenly snapped on in one of the houses and the hunter knew where she had gone to ground. Carefully the shadowy figure counted the houses back to the street with no name, before returning to Belvoir Avenue to find the house she lived in. There it was, as pretty as a picture, with flowers and a high hedge blocking the view of the windows. A winding path led to a green front door with a solid brass letterbox. It wasn’t heaven but it was the abode of an angel. Noting the address the watcher set off up the avenue and was long gone by the time Marion came out of the shower.
All his fears were realised when, racing into the kitchen he found the door to the garden wide open. He tip toed to the threshold and peeped out. To his relief Marion was sitting in a chair on the sun terrace. She was completely naked of course, but at least she wasn’t off down the lane like a character from a warped nursery rhyme.
“What are you doing Marion?” he hissed, so as not to wake the neighbours.
“Trying to cool down” she replied quietly.
“What if somebody sees you?”
”Don’t be stupid Brian” responded Marion with some distain, “we ate supper out here starkers while it was still light, who’s going to see us now”
Brian had to admit she had a point. Isla had deliberately grown her bush since Christmas, and so had Marion, except her bush acted as a privacy screen to save her from the neighbours prying eyes. Or was it vice versa? Brian was never quite sure. Such had been the fierce heat of the day that Brian, who usually remained clothed at all times had joined his wife for a bare all session when he had come home sweating and irritable from a sweltering day at the office, which, to his daughter’s great satisfaction used a novel form of air conditioning called windows. For once Brian appreciated his wife’s lifestyle, marvelling in the refreshing feelings of a total lack of clothing.
Confident in the efficiency of his wife’s shrubbery screen Brian slipped on his sandals and joined her in the fragrant night air. Unseen, the door swung silently closed behind him and it wasn’t until it gave out a portentous click that Brain realised his error. To his horror he had locked them both out of the house. “Oh my God” he hissed in complete panic, “we’re locked out.” Marion, who had been on her way for a midnight stroll, was prepared for such an eventuality.
“Don’t panic, Brian” she told him holding up a key that he could just make out in the light from the Milky Way high above them. Assuaged her husband sat back in the garden chair and relaxed. Silence hung between them like a thread as they drunk in the starlit sky and the faint breeze that brought a heady scent from the end of the garden.
“Smell that” Marion asked.
“Mmm” he replied with contentment.
“I wonder what it is?” And with that she was gone.
“Marion, come back” pleaded Brain. He had to stop her, and so with great care he ventured out into the garden. There was nothing to fear for Marion’s careful gardening had ensured seclusion, and safe in the knowledge that nobody could catch a glimpse of his birthday suit Brian tripped along the garden path after the fading pale blob that was his wife’s bare behind. Like a moth to a night flower he homed onto her bottom that protruded upwards from a flowerbed.
“Beautiful” she said, meaning the flower
“Yes indeed” agreed Brian, meaning his wife’s buttocks.
“Why Brian” said Marion, turning to look at him, “I do believe there is something growing in your shrubbery.” He quickly turned sideways but this merely served to emphasise the object of his wife’s attention. She reached out and stroked him gently.
“Have you ever thought of making love in the wild” she whispered in his ear.
“No” he said abruptly, but his heart was beating strong and his mind was no longer in control as Marion continued to stroke his mutinous penis.
“I know a bank where the wild thyme blows,” she whispered into his ear, her breath hot in that midsummer night, “Where oxlips and the nodding violet grows,
quite over-canopied with luscious woodbine, with sweet musk-roses and with eglantine.”
“Are you talking about the wood?”
Brian had spent many hours in the nearby wood with is infant daughter. He could not think of anywhere that matched Shakespeare’s description of a fairy queen’s bed.
“Come on Brian” murmured his wife, “let’s live a little”
“This is madness, Marion” he protested, “what if someone sees us”
But all his protests were in vein as his erection grew in his wife’s hand. With a quick tug they were on their way out of the back gate and down the lane; hand in penis following their own Midsummer night’s dream.
A few score miles away, for exactly the same reasons as her father, Isla was also having trouble sleeping, and she decided on a similar remedy. She turned to Henri who lay flat on his back, fast asleep, but that was not an insurmountable problem and so, at exactly the same time as her mother reached out and grabbed her father’s penis, her daughter began to stroke life into Henri’s. Like her mother Isla was pleased with the success of her labours as Henri first stood to attention and then marched quickly out of the land of his midsummer night’s dreams. Fully aroused he rolled over right on top of Isla, fully prepared to thrust his swollen ardour into her, before a firm hand on the chest brought him up short.
“What” he exclaimed
“No you can’t” Isla told him firmly.
“Why not?”
“At ten o’clock tomorrow morning I am going to parade around the shopping mall stark naked”
They, well Susie, had decided on this time so the pictures would make the midday news bulletins.
“I know. Why is that a problem? They won’t be able to see you had sex the night before”
“They might”
“What”
“What goes up must come down” replied Isla in the manner of a school teacher talking to a backward child.
“Oh, I didn’t realise”
“No, you never end up with the sticky pants, do you?”
That wasn’t exactly true, but Henri knew when to keep his mouth shut.
“So why did you bother to wake me”
“I couldn’t sleep”
“Oh great” he replied in frustration.
Isla smiled seductively. “But……..Since you are awake you can make yourself useful”
“If you think I’m going to make a cup of tea!”
“That’s not what I had in mind at all” she replied pushing his head down under the thin sheet covering her body, “you don’t have to make a deposit to get my interest”
Henri sighed and bent his back as a slave to the night; for after all she might reciprocate later.
As Henri began to alternately kiss Isla’s small breasts, her equally naked mother was pulling her father down onto her in a shady hollow beneath a rustling oak that Marion had earmarked, more in hope than expectation, a few weeks ago. Brian was no longer hesitant and completely lost in the moment entered his wife without waiting for an invitation. Caught by surprise Marion gave out a startled gasp which her husband interpreted as an exclamation of ecstasy to which he responded with deep rhythmic thrusts.
In the privacy of her bedroom Isla was also in rapture as Henri’s experienced tongue explored her erogenous zones. She let a small moan of elation as he probed her engorged clitoris. Far to north Marion also let out a moan. This was not turning out as she had expected at all, the bracken beneath her irritated her skin and she was certain some blood sucking insect was crawling all over her back about to bite. And so, at exactly the same moment as her daughter arched her back in the pleasure of orgasm Marion arched hers in an attempt to dislodge the thrusting Brian. All this did was to trigger a massive orgasm in her husband who, when he had deposited every last drop of, what to Marion seemed, an enormous amount of semen, flopped forward and lay motionless on top of her, lost in his afterglow.
Henri was similarly disappointed, as, just like her father Isla had immediately fallen asleep post coitus. He lay there idly playing with himself and thinking about Susie’s ravishing naked body a mere nine inches away. Unfortunately that space was filled with a solid layer of breeze blocks, so Henri had to make do with the memory from the meeting and the anticipation of the day to come.
The wood which had seemed so quiet when they had entered it full of anticipation was now as noisy as a rush hour rail station. Marion was aware of every rustle of animals as they stole through the bushes, the hoot of the owl in the trees where the leaves rattled and wheezed in the breeze like an old man with a fever. Her back was itching worse than chickenpox and she was desperate to go home, but she was unable to move, pinned underneath the prone body of her husband. There was nothing for it, it had to be done. She leaned her head forward and whispered three little words that were guaranteed to get his attention.
“Darling, it’s getting light”
These cut through his post orgasmic slumber like a red hot poker through a snow bank; and without further ado, he was pulling Marion up to her feet and dragging her back towards the lane. She just managed to stop him before they reached the open ground that led to the style.
“Wait” she hissed, “we have to check no one is looking out” This stopped him soon enough. There were no lights to be seen at any of the windows, but the curtains and all the windows of the houses of Belvoir Avenue were wide open, desperately searching for a cooling breeze.
“We’ll just have to chance it” said Brian and without further ado he sprinted for the style, where he without warning he stopped dead causing Marion to career into the back of him, The slap of naked flesh on naked flesh resounded through the still night like a rifle shot. As soldiers caught in an ambush the bare couple threw themselves to the ground. Brian uttered a grunt as the solid earth forced the air from his lungs, Marion, however, landed in something rather more soft and squigy something that had an unpleasant and sadly familiar smell. “Ur” she exclaimed getting to her feet, not caring if anyone was there to see or not. “Just when I thought things couldn’t get any worse” she muttered and grabbing two handfuls of grass she miserably wiped off the cow dung that clung to her breasts as best she could. “What’s that smell” said Brain at her side, “is that you?”
“Let’s just get home” Marion pleaded. Brian tip toed to the style and peeked over. The lane was bible black, nothing stirred in the blind shadows. “Let’s go” Brian hissed urgently and without waiting for his wife’s reply he hopped over the style, his low swinging testicles avoiding a painful brush with the crumbling wood by the width of a pubic hair. He didn’t need to turn to check Marion was following as he could plainly smell the remnants the manure covering her modesty.
Silently, they stole along the crow black lane towards the street with no name, where the light from Belvoir Avenue shone as bright for them as any midday sun. Here they stopped, ears pricked, as alert as a mouse in an open field. As she stood silently behind her husband Marion grimly became aware of a warm sticky stream dribbling down the inside of her bare thigh. This night was going from bad to worse she thought, as she wiped Brian’s semen from her leg. She sniffed it experimentally just to confirm her suspicions, but she knew exactly what it was, for as her daughter had told Henri less than an hour before, what goes up must come down. She wiped her hand on Brain’s bare back glowing pale orange in front of her.
“Ugh, what’s that?” he complained as he felt the slimy fluid.
“Yours” replied Marion, who was long past caring if anyone was in the road. Without so much as glance she strode brazenly across the road and into the lane that led to their garden gate. Brian scurried after her cursing silently to himself.
Safely inside the house Marion inspected the damage in the hall mirror. The whole of her front was streaked with cow dung, her hair looked like the bracken she had been lying on, and Brain’s semen had reached the knee of her left leg and the ankle of her right. All Brain could worry about was whether they had been seen.
“I don’t think so” she told him in a voice that clearly indicated that at that moment she wouldn’t have cared if the Mayor and the whole of the town council had been taking photographs. Muttering in disgust she headed straight to shower, leaving Brain to do as he willed.
Half an hour later Marion was much refreshed and headed off to find her husband who, she felt most definitely, owed her an orgasm. She tracked him to the bedroom where, like their daughter he lay fast asleep. With a sigh Marion went to the front window to check the street. It was as empty as the main square of a French town at lunchtime and all the windows of the houses were as blind as moles.
“Ah well,” she muttered to herself, “at least there was nobody else around”
But she was wrong; for many nights now a lonely figure had waited in the shadows that lay deep upon the street with no name, in the increasingly forlorn hope of catching sight of the naked angel. Perhaps there was no such thing, perhaps the story had been, after all the ramblings of a seriously ill man. And then suddenly when all hope was nearly lost there she was, strolling across road in all her naked glory. Desperate to remain unseen the watcher drew back into the coal black shadows hardly daring to breathe. The seconds ticked silently by; when enough time had lapsed for the stranger to be sure the angel would not return, the silent figure left the dark corner and crept to the entrance of the back lane. The alley was empty, but the stranger pressed on, shying away from the patches of starlight, confident that the quarry had not gone far. A light suddenly snapped on in one of the houses and the hunter knew where she had gone to ground. Carefully the shadowy figure counted the houses back to the street with no name, before returning to Belvoir Avenue to find the house she lived in. There it was, as pretty as a picture, with flowers and a high hedge blocking the view of the windows. A winding path led to a green front door with a solid brass letterbox. It wasn’t heaven but it was the abode of an angel. Noting the address the watcher set off up the avenue and was long gone by the time Marion came out of the shower.
Monday, 1 February 2010
Twelve
A week later, armed with her parents’ consent, (well resignation to the inevitable) Ilsa, with Henri in tow made a discreet entrance to an extraordinary meeting of Greensoc. For once Herni was keen to attend, for what was on the agenda today came under the heading of ‘never in my wildest dreams’. The econude protest was going ahead. Susie had made up her mind and the meeting had been called to plan direct action against companies that provided air conditioning in the summer. There were going to be many facts and figures, and carbon footprints would be impressed upon his brain until it shrieked in pain, but for once he could cope with that. Oh yes he thought as he rubbed his hands together in anticipation.
“You cold or something” demanded Isla
“No, why”
“You’re rubbing your hands together. It had better not be cold in there” she continued.
“I’m sure it’ll be fine babe”
“It’s all very well for you to say that, you’ve got a jumper to keep you warm”
“Not my choice, babe, you know I’d be happy to join in your protest”
“Mm, I do think Susie is bit over zealous on this”
So did Henri but he saw no reason to object.
As usual they were the last in.
“Make sure the door is locked Henri” Lois Holding told him.
“Sure, Louis, you can rely on me”
He took his place next to Isla. Across the table sat Susie. This was the first time he had seen her in a dress, albeit a long and shapeless effort beneath a large bulky woollen pullover. Next to Susie was her would be boyfriend, Pete Atkins. Would be if she noticed him, which she didn’t. There were a couple of other male crusties present, earnest types who never washed and would release the lions from the zoo if they could find a way of doing it without being eaten. They were of no interest to Henri. Usually the whole committee was of no interest to Henri, but today was going to be different, today the plan for nude protest would be presented and voted on. Henri knew which way he was going to vote, even if it meant the rest of the world seeing Isla in all of her glory.
“This extraordinary meeting has been called by Isla and Susie to discuss their proposal for naked action in the summer” began Louis to the rapt attention of all. He droned on about the carbon footprints of washing, laundering and air conditioning. This gave Henri the opportunity to give the other two female members of the committee the once over. Julie Langstone was small, vivacious and pretty and penci; thin. When she turned sideways she vanished. The opposite was true of Catherine Sanders. She must have huge carbon footprint given her size. For without a doubt Cat was the fattest vegetarian Henri had ever seen. His reverie was broken by Isla who had dug him in the ribs.
“Check the door again Henri” This he dutifully did while Susie outlined the planned protest. It wasn’t rocket science, all they would do is target a store or office, or anywhere they could gain entry, strip off and chant “Air con bad” There was a snappy slogan in there somewhere but nobody had quite come up with it yet. Henri sat down and gave Susie his full attention as she was getting to the juicy bits.
“After due consideration with the other girls we have decided that this will be a female only protest as you boys may be perceived as threatening and are more likely to be arrested. And as most security guards are male they can’t touch us with out being accused of indecent assault. They’ll rugby tackle you boys before you have got your pants over your shoes. Also given the nature of society a girls only protest will garner more publicity for the cause and the cause is predominant here”
The room was as silent at the gulfs between the stars
“So, as a way of affirming our intent, I propose we continue the meeting naked”
There was utter silence, the two crusties looked alarmed, Henri suspected that this was probably a concern over their personal hygiene rather than prudery.
“When I say we, I mean those of us who will actively protest.”
Louis interrupted “We’ll have to vote on this Susie”
“We already have. It was unanimous”
Lois was puzzled now.
“I don’t understand”
“It’s only us girls who are going to strip, Louis” said Catherine softly.
“But really, I do think we should show our support” Lois blustered. Henri looked around the male members, he didn’t see much support in their eyes, just a hunger for the coming show. A sharp dig in the ribs brought Henri to attention. Isla had told him about Susie’s conviction that only the girls should bare all. She knew she would never convince Susie to change her mind but that didn’t mean Isla was not going down without a fight.
“You know why, don’t you?” she had told Henri as they lay in bed the previous evening. Henri recognised a reciprocal question when he heard one. “She’s frightened of seeing an unleashed penis” she said, idly stroking Henri’s “She’s worrying there may be an erection on show” Henri’s penis duly responded to Isla’s stimulation, “She thinks you men can’t control; yourself” she continued rubbing the top of his swelling member between two fingers. She suddenly let go and stared intently at his fully erect penis with all the astonishment of an amateur conjuror performing a successful rope trick for the first time. “And she’s right”
Henri sighed. He was just beginning to enjoy Isla’s attention. One thing was certain, he wasn’t going to get any more. “I can control myself around naked women as long as they don’t start playing with me” he told her.
“Ah, but that’s not what little miss perfect thinks, oh no. She thinks that one glimpse of her bare body will send a man into uncontrollable lust. In her inexperienced little mind they’ll be saluting her faster than a guardsman meeting the Queen”
“So what do you want me to do. Strip off at the same time as you. I don’t mind but what about Loius and the crusties, will they strip, I bet Pete will be out of his pants as fast as a Parisian whore, but then he has trouble controlling himself when Susie is dressed. He nearly has an orgasm when she speaks to him”
“No sweetie, I don’t want you to strip, just put up a bit of a show, OK.” She reached again for his flaccid penis, “now where were we?”
So Henri did as Isla asked and steamed in to support Louis, but it was all to no avail. Susie was determined, the crusties were glued into their clothes and poor old Pete was bent double trying to control a raging erection clearly visible in his stiff jeans
The committee room was long and rectangular. It naturally divided into two parts, the meeting area with a large round table and a small kitchen area where the students could break off from their arduous negations and relax with tea and sandwiches. As Louis once again made a pitch for one off all off, Susie cut him off mid flow by standing and walking into the middle of this area. Without a word the other three girls followed. A deep silence fell within the committee room. Henri suddenly became aware of the rapid beat of his heart. The muffled sounds of the student union going about its normal business crept under the locked door.
It was Isla who took the lead and quickly pulled her long dress over her head, draped it on a chair and stood still, arms by her side showing no sign of embarrassment. This surprised all, but Henri, who had had much time to reflect upon his girlfriend’s sudden conversion to casual nudity since the Christmas holidays. He would dearly like to know why Isla, who had gone home a normal student, who would happily strip for sex, but that was all had turned into a rampant nudist who had to be reminded to dress when company was expected. He dared not ask Isla in case she interpreted the questions as a rebuke and started to dress normally again. A prospect Henri viewed with some horror.
Susie was caught unaware and raced to catch up, almost tripping over the hem of her dress in her haste to show the slavering boys her body. What a body it was too, thought Henri, as his eyes devoured Susie’s bare flesh. He started at the only part of her left clothed, and moved upwards along firm thighs, through a small forest of blonde pubic hair, across a flat, pale stomach to firm, perfectly proportioned breasts with pertly protruding nipples. From there it was but a small journey over her bare shoulders to the familiar territory of her face that shone red in embarrassment. When his eyes met hers he stopped. Susie smiled at him, a message of triumph, and regret for what could have been. Isla was right, Susie had insisted on the boys remaining clothed because she didn’t want to see them naked, she didn’t want their unleashed penises showing their lust for her, especially as she had no interest in any of them, except that was for Henri. He could have been hers, but for the painful fact he was Isla’s This she regretted bitterly, but the die was cast. Susie would never betray her friend; this was against all her principles. So she held his eyes as she stood naked before him and smiled a rueful smile for what might have been. Henri had no such scruples and he would have happily do two timed Isla with not the slightest twinge to his conscience. All that stopped him was bitter experience. He had dated two girls at school, and when they found out he learnt a telling lesson. Not only did they both dump him, but they proceeded to spread such vicious invective around the small town he lived in that no girl would even speak to him. No, it was one at a time for Henri now, and although Isla’s bare body was a small candle next to the stellar beauty of Susie, it’s not just looks, it’s how you use it that counts and Isla may not have had the bodywork of a Rolls Royce, but she had the engine of a Ferrari and Henri was well satisfied with the ride.
That left Julie and Cat standing side by side in their long dresses. Clearly the girls had chosen this form of attire fro the ease of undressing. Julie swallowed hard, smiled at no body in particular, nudged Cat who shrugged and said “Oh well, what the hell,” In unison they began to disrobe. Cat wiggled sensually as she squeezed her large body out of her clothes, while the tiny Julie merely pulled the straps from her shoulders and let the blue patterned summer dress fall to the ground, she stepped out of it and smiled at the boys, who stared silently eyes and pants bulging.
Cat was astonishing, Henri had never seen such flesh, and it was all as solid as a rock, her thighs bulged, her midriff swelled as if pregnant. Many a time had heard of woman’s breasts being referred to as melons, but he never once thought that they came that big. He wondered how she managed to stand upright.
That left Julie, thin Julie with tiny breasts that were like small mounds, each one tipped by an exquisite cherry nipple. Her long dark hair caressed her shoulders, but the rest of her body was hair free, her long pink vagina visible for all to see least anyone doubt her femininity. That brought a stray thought back into Henri’s mind, why had Isla grown hers again. She had gone home in December fashionably bald, by the time she returned there was considerable regrowth, which she made no attempt to rein in. More and more Henri wanted to know what had happened over Christmas, and why had she gone home over the weekend?
Susie broke into his reverie. “Shall we resume our seats?”
The girls returned to their chairs, they had chosen to sit next to each other with an empty space between Susie and Louis, and Isla on the other end next to Hanri who was more than used to his girlfriend in the nude.
“Well I think the disrobing went well and should achieve the effect we are looking for. Once we are naked, you boys will start to chant our slogan”
“What’s that” asked Louis who had regained his composure.
“Er well, we have’t quite got one yet, we’re looking for something catchy, you know, like ‘Meat is Murder’ and ‘I’d rather go naked than wear fur’. Has anybody got any ideas?”
Henri had a suggestion “It’s not snappy enough, but something about the con in air con, I dunno I’ll think about it”
“What about the Police” asked Julie, finally finding her voice.
“I’ve checked that out” Susie told her “and it’s not illegal unless someone objects. They have never arrested anybody who agreed to dress when told to”
The look on Julie’s face told Henri there would be no problem there. “What about photographs?” asked Cat.
“Well that is the whole point” responded Isla leaning back comfortably in her chair. “Publicity for the cause. You’re not thinking of backing out are you Cat?”
What’s she worrying about thought Henri, Susie’s the front page model. His thoughts were interrupted by a knock on the door.
“Oi you sanctimonious environmental veggies, your time is up” came a loud voice. There was a rattling on the door handle, “Why’s this door locked?”
“We’re having an orgy” Isla called back to them.
“Well let us in, we’ll show you a good time”
“Fat chance” called Julie. “Shall we adjourn Louis?”
”Under the circumstances I think so”
There was a rattle at the door, and a girl’s voice”
“C’mom Isla, what are you doing?”
“I’m just getting dressed, Vicky, give me a moment”
The girls walked over to the kitchen area and to the boys great regret climbed back into their dresses.
“All decent” said Isla and without checking opened the door.
“What was all that for, man” complined an tall gangly youth with a baseball cap tilted to an angle that would be instantly recognised as not quite right by a local street gang.
The short girl with spiky red hair behind him seemed to know
“You really going through with this?”
“Mm hm” replied Isla
“With what?” demanded the youth who liked to be called Desmond.
“You’ll find out soon enough, Toby” Cat told him
“You cold or something” demanded Isla
“No, why”
“You’re rubbing your hands together. It had better not be cold in there” she continued.
“I’m sure it’ll be fine babe”
“It’s all very well for you to say that, you’ve got a jumper to keep you warm”
“Not my choice, babe, you know I’d be happy to join in your protest”
“Mm, I do think Susie is bit over zealous on this”
So did Henri but he saw no reason to object.
As usual they were the last in.
“Make sure the door is locked Henri” Lois Holding told him.
“Sure, Louis, you can rely on me”
He took his place next to Isla. Across the table sat Susie. This was the first time he had seen her in a dress, albeit a long and shapeless effort beneath a large bulky woollen pullover. Next to Susie was her would be boyfriend, Pete Atkins. Would be if she noticed him, which she didn’t. There were a couple of other male crusties present, earnest types who never washed and would release the lions from the zoo if they could find a way of doing it without being eaten. They were of no interest to Henri. Usually the whole committee was of no interest to Henri, but today was going to be different, today the plan for nude protest would be presented and voted on. Henri knew which way he was going to vote, even if it meant the rest of the world seeing Isla in all of her glory.
“This extraordinary meeting has been called by Isla and Susie to discuss their proposal for naked action in the summer” began Louis to the rapt attention of all. He droned on about the carbon footprints of washing, laundering and air conditioning. This gave Henri the opportunity to give the other two female members of the committee the once over. Julie Langstone was small, vivacious and pretty and penci; thin. When she turned sideways she vanished. The opposite was true of Catherine Sanders. She must have huge carbon footprint given her size. For without a doubt Cat was the fattest vegetarian Henri had ever seen. His reverie was broken by Isla who had dug him in the ribs.
“Check the door again Henri” This he dutifully did while Susie outlined the planned protest. It wasn’t rocket science, all they would do is target a store or office, or anywhere they could gain entry, strip off and chant “Air con bad” There was a snappy slogan in there somewhere but nobody had quite come up with it yet. Henri sat down and gave Susie his full attention as she was getting to the juicy bits.
“After due consideration with the other girls we have decided that this will be a female only protest as you boys may be perceived as threatening and are more likely to be arrested. And as most security guards are male they can’t touch us with out being accused of indecent assault. They’ll rugby tackle you boys before you have got your pants over your shoes. Also given the nature of society a girls only protest will garner more publicity for the cause and the cause is predominant here”
The room was as silent at the gulfs between the stars
“So, as a way of affirming our intent, I propose we continue the meeting naked”
There was utter silence, the two crusties looked alarmed, Henri suspected that this was probably a concern over their personal hygiene rather than prudery.
“When I say we, I mean those of us who will actively protest.”
Louis interrupted “We’ll have to vote on this Susie”
“We already have. It was unanimous”
Lois was puzzled now.
“I don’t understand”
“It’s only us girls who are going to strip, Louis” said Catherine softly.
“But really, I do think we should show our support” Lois blustered. Henri looked around the male members, he didn’t see much support in their eyes, just a hunger for the coming show. A sharp dig in the ribs brought Henri to attention. Isla had told him about Susie’s conviction that only the girls should bare all. She knew she would never convince Susie to change her mind but that didn’t mean Isla was not going down without a fight.
“You know why, don’t you?” she had told Henri as they lay in bed the previous evening. Henri recognised a reciprocal question when he heard one. “She’s frightened of seeing an unleashed penis” she said, idly stroking Henri’s “She’s worrying there may be an erection on show” Henri’s penis duly responded to Isla’s stimulation, “She thinks you men can’t control; yourself” she continued rubbing the top of his swelling member between two fingers. She suddenly let go and stared intently at his fully erect penis with all the astonishment of an amateur conjuror performing a successful rope trick for the first time. “And she’s right”
Henri sighed. He was just beginning to enjoy Isla’s attention. One thing was certain, he wasn’t going to get any more. “I can control myself around naked women as long as they don’t start playing with me” he told her.
“Ah, but that’s not what little miss perfect thinks, oh no. She thinks that one glimpse of her bare body will send a man into uncontrollable lust. In her inexperienced little mind they’ll be saluting her faster than a guardsman meeting the Queen”
“So what do you want me to do. Strip off at the same time as you. I don’t mind but what about Loius and the crusties, will they strip, I bet Pete will be out of his pants as fast as a Parisian whore, but then he has trouble controlling himself when Susie is dressed. He nearly has an orgasm when she speaks to him”
“No sweetie, I don’t want you to strip, just put up a bit of a show, OK.” She reached again for his flaccid penis, “now where were we?”
So Henri did as Isla asked and steamed in to support Louis, but it was all to no avail. Susie was determined, the crusties were glued into their clothes and poor old Pete was bent double trying to control a raging erection clearly visible in his stiff jeans
The committee room was long and rectangular. It naturally divided into two parts, the meeting area with a large round table and a small kitchen area where the students could break off from their arduous negations and relax with tea and sandwiches. As Louis once again made a pitch for one off all off, Susie cut him off mid flow by standing and walking into the middle of this area. Without a word the other three girls followed. A deep silence fell within the committee room. Henri suddenly became aware of the rapid beat of his heart. The muffled sounds of the student union going about its normal business crept under the locked door.
It was Isla who took the lead and quickly pulled her long dress over her head, draped it on a chair and stood still, arms by her side showing no sign of embarrassment. This surprised all, but Henri, who had had much time to reflect upon his girlfriend’s sudden conversion to casual nudity since the Christmas holidays. He would dearly like to know why Isla, who had gone home a normal student, who would happily strip for sex, but that was all had turned into a rampant nudist who had to be reminded to dress when company was expected. He dared not ask Isla in case she interpreted the questions as a rebuke and started to dress normally again. A prospect Henri viewed with some horror.
Susie was caught unaware and raced to catch up, almost tripping over the hem of her dress in her haste to show the slavering boys her body. What a body it was too, thought Henri, as his eyes devoured Susie’s bare flesh. He started at the only part of her left clothed, and moved upwards along firm thighs, through a small forest of blonde pubic hair, across a flat, pale stomach to firm, perfectly proportioned breasts with pertly protruding nipples. From there it was but a small journey over her bare shoulders to the familiar territory of her face that shone red in embarrassment. When his eyes met hers he stopped. Susie smiled at him, a message of triumph, and regret for what could have been. Isla was right, Susie had insisted on the boys remaining clothed because she didn’t want to see them naked, she didn’t want their unleashed penises showing their lust for her, especially as she had no interest in any of them, except that was for Henri. He could have been hers, but for the painful fact he was Isla’s This she regretted bitterly, but the die was cast. Susie would never betray her friend; this was against all her principles. So she held his eyes as she stood naked before him and smiled a rueful smile for what might have been. Henri had no such scruples and he would have happily do two timed Isla with not the slightest twinge to his conscience. All that stopped him was bitter experience. He had dated two girls at school, and when they found out he learnt a telling lesson. Not only did they both dump him, but they proceeded to spread such vicious invective around the small town he lived in that no girl would even speak to him. No, it was one at a time for Henri now, and although Isla’s bare body was a small candle next to the stellar beauty of Susie, it’s not just looks, it’s how you use it that counts and Isla may not have had the bodywork of a Rolls Royce, but she had the engine of a Ferrari and Henri was well satisfied with the ride.
That left Julie and Cat standing side by side in their long dresses. Clearly the girls had chosen this form of attire fro the ease of undressing. Julie swallowed hard, smiled at no body in particular, nudged Cat who shrugged and said “Oh well, what the hell,” In unison they began to disrobe. Cat wiggled sensually as she squeezed her large body out of her clothes, while the tiny Julie merely pulled the straps from her shoulders and let the blue patterned summer dress fall to the ground, she stepped out of it and smiled at the boys, who stared silently eyes and pants bulging.
Cat was astonishing, Henri had never seen such flesh, and it was all as solid as a rock, her thighs bulged, her midriff swelled as if pregnant. Many a time had heard of woman’s breasts being referred to as melons, but he never once thought that they came that big. He wondered how she managed to stand upright.
That left Julie, thin Julie with tiny breasts that were like small mounds, each one tipped by an exquisite cherry nipple. Her long dark hair caressed her shoulders, but the rest of her body was hair free, her long pink vagina visible for all to see least anyone doubt her femininity. That brought a stray thought back into Henri’s mind, why had Isla grown hers again. She had gone home in December fashionably bald, by the time she returned there was considerable regrowth, which she made no attempt to rein in. More and more Henri wanted to know what had happened over Christmas, and why had she gone home over the weekend?
Susie broke into his reverie. “Shall we resume our seats?”
The girls returned to their chairs, they had chosen to sit next to each other with an empty space between Susie and Louis, and Isla on the other end next to Hanri who was more than used to his girlfriend in the nude.
“Well I think the disrobing went well and should achieve the effect we are looking for. Once we are naked, you boys will start to chant our slogan”
“What’s that” asked Louis who had regained his composure.
“Er well, we have’t quite got one yet, we’re looking for something catchy, you know, like ‘Meat is Murder’ and ‘I’d rather go naked than wear fur’. Has anybody got any ideas?”
Henri had a suggestion “It’s not snappy enough, but something about the con in air con, I dunno I’ll think about it”
“What about the Police” asked Julie, finally finding her voice.
“I’ve checked that out” Susie told her “and it’s not illegal unless someone objects. They have never arrested anybody who agreed to dress when told to”
The look on Julie’s face told Henri there would be no problem there. “What about photographs?” asked Cat.
“Well that is the whole point” responded Isla leaning back comfortably in her chair. “Publicity for the cause. You’re not thinking of backing out are you Cat?”
What’s she worrying about thought Henri, Susie’s the front page model. His thoughts were interrupted by a knock on the door.
“Oi you sanctimonious environmental veggies, your time is up” came a loud voice. There was a rattling on the door handle, “Why’s this door locked?”
“We’re having an orgy” Isla called back to them.
“Well let us in, we’ll show you a good time”
“Fat chance” called Julie. “Shall we adjourn Louis?”
”Under the circumstances I think so”
There was a rattle at the door, and a girl’s voice”
“C’mom Isla, what are you doing?”
“I’m just getting dressed, Vicky, give me a moment”
The girls walked over to the kitchen area and to the boys great regret climbed back into their dresses.
“All decent” said Isla and without checking opened the door.
“What was all that for, man” complined an tall gangly youth with a baseball cap tilted to an angle that would be instantly recognised as not quite right by a local street gang.
The short girl with spiky red hair behind him seemed to know
“You really going through with this?”
“Mm hm” replied Isla
“With what?” demanded the youth who liked to be called Desmond.
“You’ll find out soon enough, Toby” Cat told him
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