Go to Episode 1
The woman was wearing the shirt John had been wearing the evening before. She smiled tentatively. ‘Hello, I’m Mandy, you must be… Martin… right?’ She ran a hand through her shaggy blonde curls.
Martin said hello and admitted he was, in fact, the Martin in question. Mandy’s smile lost its hesitancy as she spoke rapidly about how she had met John at the club Sparklers, the previous evening.
‘I said to Trish… that’s my mate. “Trish,” I said. “Trish, doesn’t he look just like Sting when he was young?” I said. Only his hair is just a bit different, brown instead of blonde and a little bit too curly. Don’t you think? This coffee jar’s empty.’ Mandy held the coffee jar upside down to demonstrate the accuracy of her statement.
‘There should be another one in that cupboard up there,’ Martin pointed towards a cupboard on the wall behind her. Mandy nodded in return and reached up to open it. The shirt rode up and Martin realised it was the only thing she was wearing.
‘Ooh, did I flash my bum?’ Mandy giggled as she put the new jar of coffee down next to the kettle.
Martin nodded, feeling a burning at the sides of his neck. He turned and picked up his mug, pretending to study the fading teddy bear on its side, as he quickly sat down at the table.
‘Only I wouldn’t usually care that much, but I’ve got this massive spot, just here. Look….’ Mandy half-turned away and bent down in front of him, the shirt bunched up in one hand as she pointed with the other.
Martin could not recall ever being this close to a naked female bottom on such a short an acquaintanceship before. He tried to focus his attention on the angry-looking red swelling and exclude the rest of the soft golden-brown flesh from his field of vision. ‘Oh, yes…. It does look a bad one. Is it sore?’ He felt his mouth drying up.
Mandy said it did hurt, especially when she sat down. She sighed and stood up, letting the shirt fall back down. Martin let out a breath he hadn’t realised he was holding. Desperate for something to take his mind off Mandy’s smooth brown thighs, Martin tried to extract a biscuit from the packet on the table without crumbling it into crumbs with his trembling hands.
Mandy sat back on the table quite close to him, shifting from side to side as she tried to get comfortable; watching Martin fumble with the biscuit packet.
Most of the trembling in his fingers had gone by the time Martin managed to get the majority of the biscuit into his mouth. He tried not to stare too hard at the smooth brown thighs in front of him, swallowing carefully, trying not to choke on the dry biscuit.
Mandy asked him about his job, where he went to school, where he had lived as a child, if he had a girlfriend, where he had been for his holidays and explored several other topics while they watched the kettle, waiting for it to boil. Mandy said she was a hairstylist, which, to Martin, explained her practised ease in interrogating him so thoroughly. He answered briefly trying to keep himself from looking down at those thighs. The kettle finally boiled and Mandy jumped off the table.
‘Whoops,’ she laughed as Martin caught an accidental glimpse of her dark, but neatly-trimmed, pubic hair. She smiled and winked at him and poured the boiling water into the three mugs. She turned to pass the teddy bear mug to Martin.
‘Thanks,’ Martin said, trying to think of something else to say as he reached to take the mug. ‘Someone sent me a mysterious parcel this morning.’
‘Oh, yes,’ Mandy said, ‘I wish I got mystery presents from secret admirers. What was in it, if you don’t mind me asking?’
‘Some juggling balls.’
‘Jugg…?’ The mug fell from Mandy’s hand.
‘Shit!’ Martin screamed as the hot coffee splashed his legs. He looked down at the smashed teddy bear mug on the floor, then up at Mandy’s blank staring face.
‘Juggling balls,’ she whispered in a faraway voice.