Chapter 2

It was two weeks later. John and Simon had been out on a ‘shout’, this one involving a car that had run off the road and into a tree.

The tree won.

There had been little danger of fire, but the crew had been called out to try and free the trapped driver. He’d died before they could free him.

“Clunk-Click, every trip,” observed John.

“You think if he’d been wearing his seatbelt…?” Simon asked. Both firemen felt a little depressed; they always did when fatalities were involved.

“Probably. Too late now.”

They logged off their shift and left the station. John quietly asked, “Pub?” and Simon simply nodded.

“You get used to it, you know,” John told him as they walked the hundred yards down the road to the Cross Keys, the local pub where most of the fire crews went after their shifts.

“Hmm?”

“The deaths. It happens, and you get to see more of it than just about anyone except the ambulance guys. You get used to it. You can’t help it.”

They walked on a little further.

“All except the kiddies. I’ve never got used to those. I doubt I ever will,” John concluded.

“What you need,” Simon told his older friend as they shouldered their way through the pub door, “is a pint!”

They made their way into the dimly lit interior and approached the bar. “Hi, Betty! Couple of pints please!” Simon called out to the barmaid, an older lady who’d seen and done all, at least according to her. She nodded and returned to her conversation with the old regular sitting in his usual seat at the bar.

Once they’d got their drinks, John and Simon made their way to one of the wooden tables near the fireplace. Despite the fact that it was mid-September, it was warm and the fire remained unlit.

“Are you seeing Patty again tonight?” Simon asked John.

“I most certainly am!” quipped John. “She should be here in about twenty minutes.”

“You seem to know how to keep them, John. None of the girls I meet seem to last beyond a couple of dates,” Simon said, taking a long pull on his pint.

“You’ve got to want them to last, young’un,” replied John. “A girl can sense when you’re not planning on keeping her – I mean, even I can see it when we go out. Half the time it seems you can barely be bothered to learn their names!”

“Hey, I’m not that bad!”

“You most certainly are! Don’t you realise that a girl can tell? The only girl you’ve shown any sign of wanting to really get to know was the girl in that band, what was her name?”

“Alison,” Simon supplied automatically.

“See? Proves my point. Who was it you were going out with after her?”

“Melanie. No, wait, it was Meredith. I think…?”

John laughed at him, and Simon turned crimson. John changed the subject soon afterwards as they played a game of darts, and Simon put it out of his mind for the rest of the evening.

- - - - - - - - - -

Later that night, as he lay in his bed at his parent’s home, Simon found John’s accusation going through his mind again. Surely it was all right? He wasn’t cheating on anyone; he simply wanted to play the field, not get involved.

His parents were involved. They fought, sometimes bitterly, with raised voices that Simon had heard, but they always stayed together. Sometimes, though, it seemed that they were only together out of habit.

But he remembered his grandparents, his father’s mother and father. They’d been devoted to one another, over all the time that Simon had known them. They still were, well into their nineties. Simon wasn’t sure he was ready for that kind of relationship, but when he was, he wanted one like that – not that of his parents.

But was he really as bad, as obvious, as John had said?

He lay on his back in his bed, staring unseeingly at the ceiling while he tried to consider the question.

It was possible, he decided. He didn’t really see it, but now, lying alone in his bed with no other distraction to his thinking, he was honest enough with himself to say that. ‘It’s nothing I consciously decided,’ he told himself – only to pause, and think some more. ‘Of course it is, dummy. You’re already looking for the next one while going out with the current one…’

Something else John had said. Alison. Perhaps he should try to get in touch with her, she really had been something!

The following evening he sat down and wrote Alison a short letter. It didn’t say much; just that he’d thought of her and would like to see her again. He posted it that night.

- - - - - - - - - -

On the Friday night after that, the phone rang at Simon’s parents house. “Its John!” his mother told Simon.

“Hi John, what can I do you for?” Simon said in jest once he’d taken the phone from his mother.

“Coming down the pub tonight?”

“Yeah, if you like. Meeting Patty there?

“I most certainly am! The delectable one will be arriving about nine o’clock, which gives us time to get a couple of pints in first. I’ll meet you there?”

“Seems reasonable. I’ll be about twenty minutes.”

Soon after nine that night, John’s girlfriend Patty arrived and quickly came to John and gave him a fierce hug and a big kiss.

Patty was a short, sweet bundle of joy, with a fabulous figure and a short, permed head of brunette hair. Simon liked her a lot, they got on well together, and it was obvious that she and John were smitten with each other. Somewhere in Patty’s ancestry there were some genes from the Indian sub-continent, which tended to give her a slightly exotic look and a beautiful pale-coffee colour. Simon thought that she should be on the stage, she looked that wonderful.

There was another girl with her. Simon made eye contact and felt… interested. Whoever the newcomer was, she was as sexy as all hell!

Patty pulled away from John and looked back at the girl.

“Oh, sorry. John, Simon, I’d like you to meet my friend Marianne. Marianne, this is my boyfriend John, and this is his friend, Simon.”

“Pleased to meet you both!” Marianne answered. Her voice was a dark, sultry contralto. Just hearing her saying that conjured up a number of hot, humid feelings in Simon. In fact, he felt a stirring in his groin, just from hearing her voice. Marianne had briefly glanced at John during the introductions, but then returned her eyes to Simon.
 
Oblivious to the by-play between the other two, Patty stepped close to John and put her arms around his neck. “Can we go out tonight, John? Please? I fancy a dance, I do. Please?” She theatrically batted her eyes at her short, stocky boyfriend, swinging her hips a little, all but grinding herself against him.

“Of course, doll. We’ll go to Sundowners later on, and you can dance with me as much as you like.”

Patty poked her tongue out at John, and said, “Who says it’ll be you I plan to dance with?” John could obviously tell she was teasing, because his only reaction was to look at Marianne and say, “You’re going to leave me? Oh, well. Perhaps Marianne will console me?”

Marianne jerked as she was brought back to her surroundings. She turned and looked at John and then back at Simon. Her look was full of promise.

“I think Marianne’s taken, mate!” Simon said, clapping his hand on his friend’s shoulder. “Um… I hope so, anyway?” he said, with a querying lift in his voice as he, in turn, turned back to Marianne.

“Would you like to dance, Simon?” asked Marianne in a soft, sultry voice.

“Yeah, very much,” he answered quietly.

“Then I’d love to go with you,” she said, simply.

They exchanged a look that promised everything.

- - - - - - - - - -

Sundowners was a local nightclub, set in the basement floor of an old, white painted Victorian building near the sea-front. Above it was a café, but at night-time that was closed.

Simon, John, Patty and Marianne got out of the taxi and Simon paid the driver while John ushered the two girls into the club out of the fine drizzle that was falling.

Simon went to get some cash from the new cash dispenser machine set in the wall of the bank next door while John bought the tickets. He caught up with them in time to be told it was his round.

With a good-natured grin he asked Patty and Marianne, “What would you ladies like to drink?”

“I’ll have a Southern Comfort and Lemonade, please?” Patty told him.

“I think I’d prefer a glass of white wine, Simon, thank you,” Marianne answered appreciatively. Simon bought the drinks, including pints of beer for John and himself.

He leaned close to John’s ear for a moment. “Thank fuck for progress,” he said, “otherwise I’d have gone thirsty tonight. That hole-in-the-wall is a godsend!” John nodded and they went to see what was happening on the dance floor.

It was still relatively early, so while the floor wasn’t empty, it wasn’t packed, and there were even a couple of tables free. Marianne spotted one and made a bee-line for it, with Patty right behind her. John and Simon followed in the girls’ wake.

Having reached the table, Patty placed her drink down carefully on the white plastic surface and then stood up, rounding on John. “I think you said something about a dance?” she said archly, looking slightly down into her boyfriend’s eyes.

John put his drink next to hers, grinned at Simon and allowed himself to be drawn by the hand onto the dance floor. Marianne sat down and patted the velour-covered seat next to her. Simon sat where he was bid.

Simon found himself a little tongue-tied. Marianne was pretty – no, she was beautiful – and he’d always felt intimidated by beautiful women. Like many a man before him, Simon didn’t think he had a chance with them, so he tended not to speak to them. ‘Alison was an exception,’ he thought to himself.

“Hey! Where’d you go?”

Simon jumped as he was brought back to the present.

“Er, right here?” he said, but then immediately apologised. “Sorry, Marianne, I was miles away. Um, How long have you known Patty?”

“We went to school together. I’ve known her since we were eleven. How about you and John? He’s a really nice guy. Patty’s lucky.”

“I’ve only known John for a coupla years, but we’re really good friends. He really is a nice guy, yeah.”

“How’d you meet him?” Marianne asked.

“The Fire Brigade. He’s one of the Sub-Officers where I’m stationed,” he replied.

“Sub-Officer?” Marianne asked, a slight frown on her forehead.

“Kind’ve like a corporal or sergeant, if you like.”

“Oh.” Her frown cleared, and she frankly appraised Simon anew. “So you’re a fireman, then? Well, hmm!”

Simon looked the question at her.

“Men in uniform are sexy,” she told him, “and you’re already pretty good-looking. Do you fancy modelling your uniform for me sometime?” As she finished, she winked at him.

Feeling suddenly bold, Simon answered, “You’re very pretty yourself.”

Marianne smiled, said, “Oh, thank you!” She sat back a little and sipped her wine. She looked around, and called out, “Helen!” and waved.

A short, curvy blonde waved back and pulled the guy she was with along with her. Marianne stood as they reached her, and Simon stood as well.

“Mari!” said the blonde, hugging Marianne who replied, “Helen, it’s good to see you!” They drew apart again and Marianne introduced Simon.

“Simon, this is my friend Helen. We work together at the Council offices in Broad Street. Helen, this is Simon.”

“Nice to meet you, Simon,” she replied, “This is my boyfriend Jeez.”

Simon shook hands with the tall, muscular guy. “My name’s really John Crouch, but with the initials, Helen calls me Jeez,” he explained, grinning.

The four of them sat at the table, shouting at each other, getting to know one another as the music seemed to gradually increase in volume. Simon learned that Marianne and Helen were secretaries at the Borough Council office, and John, or Jeez, was a delivery driver for the stationery firm who supplied them.

After a while Patty came back with John for a breather and a drink. The six of them got on well, and they stayed until the club closed at one in the morning.

Simon got to dance with Marianne. He could dance quite well, but Marianne was a superb dancer. “You’re wasted as a secretary – you should be on the telly!” he told her, and she smiled. “No, I just like to have fun!” she shouted back at him.

The six of them left the club together. Jeez lived nearby and took Helen home with him, but Patty lived in St. Lynn’s the other side of the town, so John would need a cab to get her home. Since Marianne lived just outside the town in the other direction, they agreed to get separate cabs, and John said goodnight to Simon while Patty hugged Marianne.

As they pulled away in their cab, Simon told Marianne, “I really enjoyed tonight.”

She turned to him, smiled and said, “Me too. Thanks.” For the rest of the trip they described odd things they’d seen, but been unable to talk about in the club because of the noise. Both were laughing at each other’s reminiscences as the cab wound it’s way through the Old Town and up the hill.

They were nearing the street Simon had heard Marianne name to the driver when he said, “I’d really love to see you again. Can I call you?”

“Sure.” She reached into her handbag and pulled out a small pad and a pencil. “The benefits of being employed at the Council!” she said with a smile, and tore off a page.

“Here you are. Which station are you based at?” she asked, in return.

“Goldenvale”

“Oh, near the Cross Keys? I know it. Maybe I’ll drop in and catch myself an eyeful of firemen in their uniforms!”

The cab drew to a halt, and Marianne leaned across and pecked Simon on the cheek. “Thanks again for a lovely evening!” she said, and then she was gone.

Before the cab drew away, Simon watched as Marianne walked up the path to her house. The door opened, and Simon saw someone else in the doorway, but the light was poor and he couldn’t make out anything about the figure. Then the cab moved off, and Simon sat back, already reliving some of the evening.

That peck on the cheek, he could still feel it.

This was one girl he would be calling back.

But first, as soon as he got home, he’d be locking the bathroom door, and spanking the monkey!

- - - - - - - - - -

Just as he was dismissed from his shift a few days later, Simon heard his name being called.

“Firefighter Cook, could I have a word?” It was Station Officer Billings, the officer-in-charge of the station. Simon wondered what he’d done wrong.

Billings stepped into his office and around behind his desk. As he took his seat, Simon entered.

“Close the door.” After Simon had done so, Billings told him, “We had a visitor here this morning.”

Simon couldn’t think of anything to say, since he had no idea what or who – “Oh!”

“I see you know who I mean. Sit down, Simon.” The last was said in a less stern tone, and Simon gratefully sat.

“A Miss Simmons, it was. She came and asked for you by name, expecting to be able to speak to you. She seemed rather put out when she was told you were on duty and couldn’t see her.”

“Yes, sir. I wasn’t expecting her to call around. Sir.”

“Mmmm. She said you’d given her this station as ‘where she could find you.’ Could you please make plain to her that she can’t find you here when you’re on duty?”

Simon winced. Aloud, he simply said, “Yes, sir,” but inside he was wondering what had made him tell Marianne she could find him here.

“Thank you. That’s all.”

Simon left the office and found John waiting for him.

“What’d you get bollocked for then?” he asked Simon.

“Marianne turned up this morning,” Simon said glumly. “I didn’t tell her not to come when I was on duty.”

“Berk. Still, you get the chance to explain it quickly. She’s here.”

Simon jumped. “She is?” he squeaked, then repeated in a more normal voice, “I mean, she is?”

“Yup! She’s waiting just outside. Now then,” he said, brushing some imaginary dust off of Simon’s collar, “be good, and don’t play rough with all the other boys and girls.”

“Yes, Mum, I mean no, Mum,” Simon answered, distractedly. Then he walked, leaden-footed, to the door. He paused there, pulled himself together and opened the door.

Marianne was there.

She looked gorgeous. Her heart-shaped face and gorgeously permed curly-brown hair, her eyes, grey, intelligent, and sparkling now that she’d seen him, her elegant neck. She was wearing a long brown skirt, hiding her lovely legs, but the white top was almost translucent and Simon could see the darkness of her areolae behind it.

He stood there, gaping.

Marianne was smiling and moved towards him, but then pulled up short. “I didn’t get you into trouble or anything, did I?” she asked, concerned.

“No, of course not,” Simon answered, once he’d got his mouth moving again. “I was just asked not to invite you to the station when I was on duty.” He was thinking furiously, but it was his mouth doing the thinking. “I think, in practice, that means I’d better give you my shift pattern, then you can meet me here as I come off duty.”

Marianne punched him in the arm. “Oh? Are you taking me for granted, already?” She smiled, taking some of the sting out of her words, but Simon could tell she was a bit miffed.

“Sorry. Of course I don’t take you for granted. But, um… Look! Do you want to go out with me?”

“Of course I do, silly! Why else would I come around to your station?”

Simon’s smile felt like it would split his head. Marianne stepped closer, gripped his lapels, and whispered, “I’ll do more than just go out with you, Simon. If you want.”

He was left gaping again as she stepped back once more to appraise him. “My, you do look a fine figure in your uniform! Now,” and she stepped to his side, swivelled and twined her arm in his, “where shall we go? I fancy a drink!”

She led him off to the Cross Keys, walking briskly, pulling him with her. Simon shook his head as he was led towards the pub, and slowly a broad smile crossed his face, the sort that said, ‘I think I’m going to get lucky…’

They walked into the pub together. John was there already, having just sat down with a bunch of the others from Simon’s shift. Marianne saw the men there. Some were still in uniform, others in civvies, and she made a bee-line for the group.

“Hello, boys,” she said, and Simon groaned. He knew the effect that voice had on him, and what it would do when the others heard it…

But she went on, “I’m Marianne. I’m going out with Simon. He’ll see you all later!” and she turned, took his hand and started walking off towards a corner of the bar where there was a table and two chairs.

“This is just perfect,” she told him, “I’ll have a glass of medium white wine, please.”

Simon was still shocked at her brazen declaration to the other guys. They were hooting and hollering in the background, and there were a couple of wolf-whistles, but Marianne seemed to take it all in stride. He went to the bar, got Marianne’s wine and his pint, and sat opposite, blankly staring at the cool, confident young woman who’d just taken over his life.

Marianne began telling Simon about how she’d woken up that morning, remembered it was her day off, and decided it was time to go and see him. “I thought I’d pop into town, do a little shopping and then come up and see you. I’m really sorry, I should have called ahead and found out when it would be possible.”

“It’s okay, honest,” Simon replied.

They stuck to safe topics for a while – things they’d seen in the local paper, television, music and radio. Marianne was an excellent conversationalist, and Simon grew less conscious of being with her and simply enjoyed being with her.

It was easy enough to enjoy. Marianne was good company as well as exceedingly beautiful. Simon found that he was able to ignore the world around him and sink into those beautiful grey eyes.

Simon leaned forward. “There’s a film on at the Odeon tonight. I’ve not seen it before, but I’ve heard about it,” he told her.

“The Rocky Horror Picture Show?” Marianne asked, eyes crinkling with humour. “I’ve heard that’s a little… risqué.”

Simon’s smile increased in wattage. “Yeah… D’you fancy seeing it with me? We can get there in time tonight, if we go now.”

“Sure!” Marianne replied, already getting up from the table. “I’d love to!”

It was a fairly lame excuse for a date, of course. Still, both of them enjoyed the film tremendously. It was sexy, camp and fun. He thought Susan Sarandon was wonderful as Janet and Marianne loved Tim Curry as Frank’n’Furter.

So they sat in the dark cinema, with some popcorn and a fizzy drink. Simon reached over and took Marianne’s hand, and she turned to him and smiled. Soon she was cuddled against him as they watched, and he could feel the comforting warmth of her shoulder and arm against his. Simon thought they could have been watching anything and he’d have enjoyed it.

As The Professor was explaining how to do the Time Warp, Marianne let go of his hand. Simon felt the loss, but then she turned to him again, put one hand behind his head and leaned into him.

Her lips were warm, soft velvet. Her mouth opened and Simon felt her tongue, agile and quick, tasting his own lips, then exploring his mouth as he explored hers as the kiss deepened.

Simon didn’t find out what happened next in the film; he and Marianne didn’t part until the final credits were rolling. But when the lights came up they broke away flushed with passion, and in Simon’s case slight embarrassment. He tried to stand quickly but found it difficult; feeling like everyone would look and see his erection. Marianne stood next to him with an amused expression.

They left the cinema arm in arm, and standing on the steps for a moment. Simon reached for Marianne and she came willingly into his arms again. They kissed once more, ignoring the world passing by around them, before Marianne reluctantly pulled away.

“I need to get home, Simon. Thanks for a lovely evening.”

“Do you have to go now?” Simon asked. He winced as he heard the plaintive note in his voice.

Marianne grinned. “Yes, Simon, I do.” Her face turned serious. “I’ve got work tomorrow, and I’m sure you do too, plus my Mother will be wondering where I’ve got to. I mean, I know I’m eighteen, but still she’ll worry all the while I live at home with her. It’s natural.”

Simon noted the lack of a reference to her father. Not knowing what to say, he decided, in a rare moment of clarity, to say nothing. They began walking to the bus stop just around the corner from the cinema.

“I guess,” said Simon. “It’s natural for parents to want to protect a daughter, I suppose. Especially an only daughter.”

She looked at him, sharply. “What made you say that, Simon?” she asked. There was something that Simon couldn’t work out in her voice.

“Oh? Not an only child? It’s just that you hadn’t mentioned a brother or sister.”

The bus drew up, and Simon got on and paid for their tickets. Fifteen pence each.

They took a pair of seats and Marianne resumed their conversation.

“I suppose I haven’t. I’ve got a sister.” She smiled a small, secretive smile. “We get on well together. She’s a lot quieter than me.”

“Is she like you otherwise?” Simon asked.

“Oh, yes. I think you could say that.” Again, there was that small smile. “So, did you fancy Janet? Or, perhaps, Magenta?”

Simon grinned. “Oh, I think Susan Sarandon’s sexy,” he said, and took a cuff on his arm. He smiled wider. “It’s the hair, I think.”

She looked at him, quizzically.

“Let’s just say that I bet she has more fun!”

That cost him another punch on his arm. “Ow, that hurt!” he told her, rubbing his bicep. “You deserved it!” she told him, but she was smiling as she said it. It was something he noticed about Marianne, she seemed to always be smiling, never sad.

They reached her stop, and got off. At her gate, they stood together for a moment.

“I really did enjoy tonight, Simon.”

“I did too. When can we go out again?”

“I have a class at the college tomorrow night. I’m studying for my English ‘A’ level.” At Simon’s encouraging look, she went on, “I left at sixteen and have regretted it since then.”

“What do you want to do? Do you know?”

“I’m just a secretary, at the moment. I want to progress, to do more. But this is the Civil Service we’re talking about. I need formal qualifications before they’ll look at me. I want to get my ‘A’ level, then see about doing an Open University degree. You?”

“I’m happy in the Brigade. I’ll see where that takes me.”

Once again that thousand-watt smile. Then she kissed him, a quick, no-nonsense peck – before leaning into him again. Their arms went around each other and the kiss went on, and on, until finally Marianne pulled away, breathless.

“I’ll have to go, Simon. Call me Friday, about seven, if you can. We’ll arrange something then. But call me!”

She pulled away, and he held onto her hand for a moment.

“I will, Marianne.” She pulled free, turned and walked up the path towards her door. “I’ll call!” he told her again. At her door, she turned, flashed him a brief smile that he could see even in the dim light, opened the door and quickly, she was gone.

Simon walked home. It was just over three miles, and a chilly evening, but he didn’t notice the cold.

All through the walk back he was reliving the evening. In particular, he went over the taste of her soft, supple lips, the scent of her perfume, the warmth of her arm and shoulder against him, the feel of her breasts through their clothes…

 ‘Marianne’s amazing!’ he thought, over and over.

He was still thinking that as, once more, he recalled her beauty in private later that night!

- - - - - - - - - -