"Thought you might." I smiled enigmatically again. It was a look I was trying to perfect, the problem is without a mirror, you can't tell how it looks.

"You keep giving me funny smiles," said Simon.

"Do they puzzle you?" I asked.

"Only why you keep doing it."

Easy As Falling Off A Bike
by Angharad
part:181

"Oh shit!" said Simon and bit his lip.

"Call him Simon, I'll call Stella."

I punched in her code and got her voicemail. I tried the cottage, there was no answer. I felt my blood pressure rising. She was probably out with John, at least I hoped so.

Simon was still talking to his father. I sent Stella a text message to call me as soon as she could.

"He's okay, thank goodness, said I did okay on the interview." He almost puffed out his chest with pride.

"Okay, you were wonderful." I hugged and kissed him. "I can't get hold of Stella, was she going out?"

"I don't know, she could have been." He shrugged his shoulders in a gesture of hopelessness. "She tells me very little."

And you don't listen when she does, went through my mind. "What do we do next?"

"There's a limmo coming to take you to your hotel," offered Des, "least that's the plan."

"So do we wait out front."

"No you stay here until we decide it's safe, the attack on Henry means you are possible targets." Des then went towards the main entrance.

"Won't it be dangerous for him too?"

"Dunno, he's not easily frightened, that guy did a documentary about crocodiles, he swam with them." Simon was obviously impressed with his friend.

"He probably told them if they ate him it would be on camera and everyone would know what rotten reptiles they were." I tried to lighten things up a little.

Simon laughed rather more than I thought was warranted. "You've got him summed up."

I smiled as enigmatically as I could, not sure if I had summed up Des or just made a joke.

My phone beeped for text. I pulled it out, then cursed.

"What was that?" asked Simon.

"My mobile supplier offering me cheap rate calls abroad."

"Oh, could be a good idea."

"While some sunshine would be brilliant, I have an appointment in a couple of weeks with the plumber, remember?"

"Oh yes."

"Otherwise you'll never get your connubials," I smiled again.

"Oh yes ma'am, I do want them."

"Thought you might." I smiled enigmatically again. It was a look I was trying to perfect, the problem is without a mirror, you can't tell how it looks.

"You keep giving me funny smiles," said Simon.

"Do they puzzle you?" I asked.

"Only why you keep doing it."

"Oh," I said blushing, back to the drawing board.

"Your car is here," Des said, returning, "and he's kosher."

The hotel was the same group as the one at Southsea, 'Travellux.' So did Henry own this one as well?

"We're booked in as Mr and Mrs Simon," whispered Mr Simon as we entered the place.

"You're Paul and I'm Art, don't tell me?" I answered back.

"Art isn't a girl's name is it?"

"Duh! Simon and Garfunkle."

"Who are they?" said Simon looking puzzled.

"Two huge American pop...." I looked at him and he was holding back a laugh.

"You pig!" I scolded him.

We registered and were taken up to the top floor, it was a penthouse suite. I wondered who was paying for it, then thought, blow it, I'm not so I'm gonna enjoy myself.

While Simon tried to call Stella, I went and ran a bath, used up the sachet of bath salts and sat in the wonderfully warm water, where I relaxed so much I fell asleep, until Simon hosed me down with cold water from the shower. I will kill that man one of these days!

"Your wine is getting warm," he said when I stopped coughing.

"What wine?"

"I ordered you some when you first got in the bath."

"Did you?" I didn't know what day it was leave alone anything else.

"Yes, plus a snack meal."

"Food? You're not hungry are you?" I didn't feel particularly so.

"Yes, since the cook left, my eating habits are all a bit upsy-downsy."

"Poor you," I said, wondering what he'd ordered.

I waited for him to leave before getting out of the bath, very aware of something dangling that I didn't want anyone to see. I wrapped myself in the towelling robe hanging on the back of the door.

"Can I get my nightie on?" I asked.

"Hurry then."

I threw it on quickly and pulled on the matching panties, tucking the obtrusive bits back between my legs. I was going to be so pleased for those to be sorted. Just two or three weeks to go.

"Here," said Simon, handing me a glass of champagne.

"You didn't order this, did you?"

"No, it's complimentary, they give a bottle of Bollinger to everyone."

"Oh that's alright then." I said feeling relieved.

He started to roar with laughter.

I knew I was the cause of it and blushed. "What did I say that was so funny?"

"This stuff at hotel rates is a couple of hundred quid a bottle."

"Oh," I felt really stupid. "Who is paying for it?"

"My dad, I reckon we earned it."

"Does he know?" I asked feeling less positive about it than Simon did."

"He's got other stuff to worry about. Besides we got him some good publicity tonight, so he won't mind."

It felt strange to be drinking a wine that I couldn't distinguish from a Marks and Spencer one, they did champagne too and I'll bet it was better value than this bottle. It tasted like any old champagne to me.

The snacks were a 'cold table,' a selection of cold meats, cheeses, salad and fruit, plus some bread sticks. It was delicious and I certainly ate my share.

"Let's take the rest of the wine to bed," said Simon.

"Shouldn't we be trying to find Stella?" I asked feeling guilty.

"I'll try and ring her again, but what else can I do?"

"Has she spoken to your dad?"

"He didn't say so, so she could have done, but I doubt it. I can't ring him and ask because all it will do is worry him?"

"Where else is she likely to be?" I asked.

"She's probably out getting as pissed as a fart and screwing John till he begs for mercy."

Declining to take any hints from this conversation, I tried calling her mobile again. Only voicemail, I left a message, again. Simon called the cottage, there was no answer. We had tried.

The problem was we couldn't do anything until morning, and then we still had to get to Portsmouth. By then anything could have happened. We needed someone closer. I phoned Tom.

"That was one sneaky interview you gave, and how did they find some of my tutorial students?"

"They volunteered and Pippa volunteered me."

"A likely tale," I joked.

"Simon did well."

"He was brilliant, and I thought he handled the bank stuff well, too."

"Yes, he was quite good, you looked nice, that suit really suits you."

"Thanks Tom, I need a favour." Before he could ask what, I started. "We can't seem to get hold of Stella, could you check out the cottage tomorrow morning and make sure nothing has happened there?"

"I'll go now if you want?"

"No, she might just be out with friends and either return later or whatever, she isn't answering her mobile, so she might be out clubbing or something."

"Okay, I'll pop over there first thing."

"Thanks Tom, and thanks for your kindness with the interview."

"Got to keep my cook happy."

What is this about men and cooking? Or is it men and their stomachs? "I'll cook you the best curry you've ever tasted, when I get back."

"You don't eat curry, Cathy."

"So?"

"So how can you know what is a good or a bad one?"

He was being logical, I just wanted to thank him. Damn! "Okay, if you can keep that mutt of yours under control, I'll do you another roast dinner."

"On sunday?"

"Probably, I'll have to check I don't have anything else to do."

"Okay, you have a date." He put the phone down.

I snuggled up with Simon. He gently stroke my breasts and I felt something twitching in my knickers. I'd stopped the oestrogens after seeing Mr O'Rourke, to reduce thrombosis risk. It possibly made me randier, debatable, but it certainly meant something was trying to reach an expanded state. I felt very embarrassed by it and turned my back to Simon snuggling into him, hoping he wouldn't see or feel my bulge. At the same time I reached back and felt his, and began stroking it. I felt his breathing increase and also his hands stopped stroking my chest. Moments later he groaned then rushed out to the bathroom. I just lay back and smiled.

I was snuggled into Simon when the phone rang. My mobile. I was tempted to let voice mail take it when I realised where we were and that we had been worried about Stella. That was probably her now.

I rolled over and picked up the phone, "Hello," I said sleepily.

"Cathy, it's Tom, I'm at the cottage. No sign of Stella and the door is open, I've called the police."