Poor sleep and more surprises for our hapless heroine. (There will be some more cycling eventually, promise).

Easy As Falling Off A Bike.
by Angharad & Elvis.
part 43.

I stood shivering and trembling watching the big Volvo disappear up the road. I felt a total mish mash of emotions. I had just been kissed and and and and, alright I enjoyed it, the bastard! If I hadn't enjoyed it, I could quite happily have killed him, the rotten swine bent my rose! "He has all the sexual finesse of a mink!" I mumbled to myself. For those not in the know, mink are randy little rapists who think nothing of gang banging females. Then I thought about what I had said to myself, it wasn't true, he'd been the perfect gentleman until that last kiss and I could have stopped him if I'd really wanted.

I dragged myself away from the kerbside and up to my room. I was cross with myself, no, make that furious. If I'd kept my eyes open I'd have seen it coming and could have decided whether or not I let him kiss me, but then he might not have done so if he saw me watching him. But then I let him do it again, the bastard! I enjoyed it, stupid cow. Oh bugger I'm all of a twitter.

I cut off the broken stem of my rose and put it in a glass of water. It was the first flower anyone had ever given me and as I stood looking at its battered petals and much reduced stem, my eyes filled up with tears. Receiving that rose was the most wonderful thing that had happened for a long time. I know people have been kind and supportive, but that rose filled me with something I couldn't quantify. It was as if I had suddenly received recognition of something inside from someone outside. Soppy cow that I am, I sat down and burst into tears.

It was the story of my life, things start to go my way and I spoil it. I had a man who seemed to care about me enough to take me to dinner and give me a rose. He even offered to take me dancing, plus make sure I have the right gear and I tell him to piss off. What kind of moron am I?

Okay, the worry about what happens when he finds out, that's why I did it. "You bloody liar," I said to myself, "you hadn't got that far, you were incensed by the fact that he was organising you without your consent, that he was feeling sorry for you and reached for his credit card. It made you feel cheap and nasty, like some whore. Your stupid pride didn't want him to think that you could be bought."

A surge of indignation returned and I felt justified in seeing him off, no matter how poor I was, I wasn't for sale to some rich wanker, just 'cos he worked for a merchant wank! Oh God, I meant bank. Ever since that kiss yesterday from that ruffian from the garage I seemed to have awakened from my celibacy. It looked as if I may not be asexual after all, but quite what I was I had yet to determine.

I mean did I fancy Simon, huh, that creep, thinks he can buy me, huh! Him and his creepy, dangerous driving sister, they can both go to hell, see if I care. I burst into tears again, maybe I did care but quite how and what, there lay the problem?

I sat back in the chair, my eyes were stinging from crying and I closed them for a moment. I was dreaming, someone was trying to get me to go out with them and they were trying to break into my room to carry me off. I hated the idea so much I'd unlocked the door and was waiting, but they were still banging and shouting. Stupid cow, I called out in my dream... then I suddenly awoke, it was a woman that was calling and presumably banging on the door. I was still seated in my chair, my neck as stiff as a lamppost, and my bladder full to capacity.

"Cathy, open the door," shouted the voice through the closed door. I rushed and undid the catch.

As Stella burst in, I ran to the bathroom before something else burst, "Can't stop need a pee," I shouted as I slipped through the bathroom door.

I heard the front door close and Stella moving about the room. I hurried as quickly as I could, a wipe over my face and hands with a wet flannel and I was out into my sitting room. Stella was in the kitchenette, "Tea or coffee?" she called. I told her coffee, I needed the caffeine kick.

"God you look awful," she said placing the mug in front of me.

"I fell asleep in the chair, my neck hurts," I whimpered.

"Serves you bloody right."

"Oh!" I said squirming, couldn't she see I was the victim of a broken heart or something? "What are you doing here?"

"Fulfilling my commission."

"What commission?" I asked back feeling the warmth of the coffee all the way down to my toes.

"Taking you shopping for a barn dance."

"Not me," I said indignantly, "I'm not for sale."

"You self-righteous twat, get your arse in the shower and hurry up, I've got a job to do and no one is going to stop me."

The ferocity of Stella's response nearly knocked me off my seat. "No I told him I wasn't going."

"He told me you'd say that, I told him I'd change your mind or kill you, either would produce a useful outcome." She paused to let it sink in, she wasn't going to take no for an answer. Then she reached in a small bag she had with her and pulled out a single red rose, she placed it on the table in front of me. "He asked me to give you that." I looked at it shivered and burst into tears again.

It was about an hour later that we left my room, my eyes were still sore but Stella had managed to disguise some of the redness by using a pink coloured eyeshadow. She made me wear a skirt and my boots. I hoped we weren't going to walk too far.

It took us an hour to get into Southampton and the cost of the car park was astronomical. We got four hours, I paid. I had to pay for something to feel I had role in this that wasn't entirely passive.

"So he kissed you then?" she said sniggering.

"You know the answer to that or you wouldn't have asked," I said curtly back.

She laughed loudly, and I hissed, "Bitch!" at her, which made her laugh all the more, eventually I was laughing too.

"If he's not careful, I'll get back at him through his bloody credit card," I said as defiantly as I could.

"That's the spirit girl," said Stella.

"Shouldn't you be on his side, he is your brother?" I asked taken aback by her attitude.

"Nah," she chuckled.

"Surely you should be protecting his assets," I was totally puzzled by her behaviour.

"What for? I get half of what he spends on you?" she replied laughing.

"What?" I said stopping and looking at her.

"I get half of what we spend on you. So if we spend three hundred on you, I get to spend a hundred and fifty on me."

"But that's robbery or bribery or something like that!" I said almost disgusted.

"Blackmail," she said sniggering.

"Blackmail?" I gasped.

"Yeah, the only way he can get girls is to offer to buy them gifts or to actually buy the presents. He hasn't got a clue, so I do it for him for a price. Which also buys my silence when he thinks how clever he is."

"But he's a lovely man," I protested.

"I know that, but he doesn't. And I'm not going to enlighten him! How do you think I can dress so well?"

"I hadn't thought about it at all. I simply noticed you had a lovely wardrobe."

"All bought with Simon's money! Come on! Let's spend some more!"

After three hours, I had a pair of boots with chunkier heels which being brown would suffice as cowgirl boots, I also had a longish denim skirt with a lace frill around the bottom, a gingham blouse and denim waistcoat. I refused to even look at cowboy hats, I felt enough of a prat as it was and the theme music of 'Rawhide' kept going through my brain. This was due to the mother of a friend of mine having a total crush on Clint Eastwood, she had all his movies plus umpteen episodes of Rawhide on video. It brought back memories I'd rather forget.

We stopped for lunch, again, all on Simon. I was more glad of the rest than the need for food, although I'd only had a piece of toast for my breakfast. I settled for carrot and coriander soup with a roll.

After that it was back to the shops and a new coat for me. "But I don't need a coat for the barn dance," I'm not going.

"Shush, it might rain."

"He has a car."

"Just try it on, he won't know or care. Come on! We've got to get you a decent bag yet."

Despite my protests, I had a new coat. So did she and her's was nicer than mine. I couldn't complain. I had another pair of shoes, boots, the outfit makeup, combs and brushes, a set of self heating rollers, perfume and a scarf. She had spent over six hundred pounds of Simon's money. I was shocked. She shrugged and implied he wouldn't even notice.

We had just got back to her car when my mobile began to ring. "Better answer it, it might be Simon asking how we got on," said Stella.

I pressed the button and held it up to my ear. "Hello?" I said as gently as possible.

"Charlie get your arse up here quickly, your mother's in the BRI and things don't look too clever." It rang off.

"You all right, you look as if you've just seen a ghost?"

"That was my dad! Mum's in the Bristol Royal Infirmary and it sounds serious! He wants me there as quickly as possible."

"Oh my God! I am so sorry! I hope she'll be all right."

"What am I going to do Stella?!!" I felt completely gutted - a nice day out and then this happens!

"I think I can find Bristol, but you'll have to direct me to the hospital."

"What! I can't go like this!"