I struggled with the seat belt while we erm, belted along at what seemed to be warp speed ten.

‘Well Chloe, we meet again.’

‘Yes,’ I said as my clunk finally clicked.

Get A Life!

By Susan Brown

Chapter 9

Previously …

I put Pinkie by the side of the road and put her on her stand. Then, without a second thought, I ran to the car, wrenched the door open, swiftly got in and rather wetly sat down on the leather passenger seat.

He looked at me and I looked at him.

He was sooo lovely looking, but I had to keep a level head. I was the hard-nosed business woman, with steely resolve. Someone not to be trifled with and in full control of the situation.

‘Hello Chloe McKerrell.’

‘Hi.’ I breathed, well gasped really, but still…

‘You look wet.’

He obviously had powerful skills of observation.

‘Y…yes,’ I replied, shivering with the cold.

‘Grab that blanket from the back. Look you need to get dry; my place is about a mile down the lane. I’ll take you there and then you can get out of those wet things and into something a bit more comfortable.’

‘Gosh.’ I replied as the car accelerated down the road, nearly leaving my tummy behind in the rain.

And, och aye the noo; the story continues…

I struggled with the seat belt while we erm, belted along at what seemed to be warp speed ten.

‘Well Chloe, we meet again.’

‘Yes,’ I said as my clunk finally clicked.

Now I was seat belted up, I turned to look at him. He hadn’t changed; he was still a gorgeous hunk of manhood.

‘So, what were you doing out in this God forsaken weather?’

‘Oh, just working.’

‘Trying to put things right all by yourself?’

‘Not really, I just want to help. Its lovely here, isn’t it.’

‘Not at the moment,’ he replied laughing, as we looked at the torrent of rain outside.

‘Mmm, it is raining rather hard,’

I wriggled in my seat a bit as the dampness had reached my knickers. I know, too much information.

‘So,’ I said, trying to take my mind off my underwear, ‘you live out here?’

‘Yes, we’ll be there shortly. I hope you like it.’

I didn’t know whether he meant that or if he was just being polite.

He wasn't what you would call a slow driver and I wondered, as I hung on for dear life, if he was trying to pretend that he was a rally driver. The lane snaked along and had alarmingly sharp bends. I tried not to think about the possibility of meeting any vehicles, people or animals on the way and wished that I had my pink helmet on.

I vaguely recognised where we were, but had little time to think about it.

Suddenly, there was another sharp bend up ahead and we seemed to be heading towards a tree rather than shaping up for the bend. I shut my eyes and prayed for salvation or at least coming out of the situation in one piece.

The car suddenly swerved to the right and I found myself hard up against Alistair’s strong, manly, rather nice arm. I braced myself for the shock of hitting a tree at 200 miles an hour, but we seemed to straighten out again.

Opening my eyes, I could see us going down a driveway leading up, or would that be down, to a two-storey cottage.

We screeched to a halt outside the front door and my stomach caught up with the rest of my body a few moments later.

‘Here we are,’ he said.

’You have a nice cottage,’ I replied as I tried to pull myself together, ‘do you always drive like that?’

‘Yes, what’s wrong with the way I drive?’

‘Nothing, erm, so this is your cottage?’

‘Yes, that’s right. It was my parents place and when they died, I inherited it.. It’s a bit quiet out here, but I like it.’

The rain had nearly stopped by now and I could see the clouds parting and sunlight peaking through. Over to the left, a rainbow was forming and it all looked rather lovely.

We got out of the car and Alistair led me towards the cottage and then after opening the door, beckoned for me to go in with a rather winning smile on his face.

For all I knew, I could be going in to a trap and he might be a mad axe murderer or something, but I just felt in my water that he wasn’t anything like that and that beneath that gorgeous exterior beat a heart of gold.

OK, so I’m a romantic and I just might have a rosy tinted idea about things at times, but, I also think that I am a good judge of character and anyway, I hadn’t heard anything bad about him and in this place where you couldn’t sneeze without it being reported in the local paper, I think I would have heard if he was something less than savoury.

I could go on and describe in detail about the cottage interior, but that would be boring. Suffice to say that it was nice, cosy, but modern inside.

I was shown the bathroom and given a towelling robe.

Get yourself dried off and then we’ll dry your clothes. Do you want a drink?

‘A cup of tea would be nice.’

‘Lets see, you are a white with one sugar; correct?’

‘Gosh, you must have the second sight.’

‘No,’ he laughed, ‘Molly at the café just mentioned it when I was in there a wee while back.’

‘I should sue her for breach of confidentiality,’

‘I didn’t know that café owners had to be confidential.’

‘Yes, its the hypocafé oath,’

He laughed. I liked the way his nose crinkled slightly when he did that…get a grip, Chloe!

With a smile, he left me alone and I could hear him go downstairs.

I took all my clothes off. I was wet through to my panties and bra. Looking down at my body, I sighed. I did so wish that I were properly girly looking. OK, I did have small breasts from my medication and my shape was getting more feminine, I still had my dangler, dangling where it shouldn’t be. I sighed. One day, I would take courage and have the final snip job. I nearly had the money to go and get it done privately, but not quite. I didn’t want to go down the NHS route, as the waiting list was long and the red tape even longer.

I put on the towelling robe and towelling type slippers that he had also kindly provided. My hair was a bit of a mess and I finger combed it as best I could to make look a little less like I had been dragged through a hedge backwards and then I deemed it that I was as ready as I could be.

Leaving my wet sandals by the towel rail which was hot, and picking up my wet clothes, I went downstairs. Alistair was in the kitchen, reading a paper at the kitchen table. Two cups of steaming tea were on the table and a selection of scrumptious looking biscuits.

‘Feeling better?’ he asked.

‘Yes thank you. Can I put my clothes in the drier?’

‘Of course, its over there.’

He pointed at the drier next to the washing machine and I put the damp clothes in a set the setting thingie on gentle dry, as I didn’t want my things to get too creased up.

I went back to the table and sat down; on a chair, not the table.

My emotions were weird, to say the least. I knew that in this place where secrets were unheard of, he was probably aware that I was physically not quite a fully fledged member of girlhood and wouldn’t be even be after the dreaded op. But I wondered if he realised that I was never really a girl in the mental sense or whether he thought that I was just this strange person who he was doing the Samaritan thing with. Someone to be pitied, maybe?

As you can see, at that time I was a crazy mixed up person who found it difficult to put into words exactly what was going on.

‘Thank you for all this.’ I said.

‘All what?’ he asked as he glanced at me over his steaming tea cup.

‘Rescuing me from nearly drowning.’

‘It was only a bit of rain,’ he replied.

‘It might just be a bit of rain to you, but from where I come from, it seemed like the heavens opened up and in it was full on monsoon type rain.’

He laughed. I liked his laugh; it was warm and just that little bit sexy…

Stop it Chloe!

‘Erm, so do you live here alone?’ I asked innocently.

‘No,’

‘Oh,’

‘I have a cat called Daydream as that’s all she does all day.’

‘Oh, so no erm Mrs Alistair?’

‘No, nobody would be daft enough to have me…’

‘…I can’t believe that.’

‘Its true; I’m not organised, I drive like a maniac and I like my own space. I suppose you could call me selfish in my habits; the original eternal bachelor.’

‘Anyone would be happy to…I mean, I’m sure that there are plenty of girls out there…’

‘Not boys?’

‘Oh, right, you are, maybe erm, gay?’

‘Do you think that I am gay?’

I was now digging a hole so deep; I would end up in Australia, if I kept this up.

‘Sorry, its personal and private, I shouldn’t be nosing into your business. Look at me, even I’m not sure who I am from day to day…’

‘So, you like girls then?’

‘No, yes, I don’t know. All I can say is that I’m just, I suppose, more attracted to men rather than women…I think.’

Even to me, that sounded lame. I wondered how the conversation turned so quickly to such personal matters.

‘Do you know that you are very pretty?’

‘Am I? erm, so,’ I said, desperately trying to steer the conversation towards calmer waters, ‘do you work?’

‘Only when I have to; I am a solicitor but in my spare time I’m a writer. I write fiction, mainly romances. I write under a pseudonym. I’m quite successful, even though I say so myself. Do you know what I would write about you?’

‘No.’

I wondered where this was going.

‘I would write about how this devastatingly beautiful mystery women came to the island and swept everyone off their feet with her loveliness and that she had a wonderful sunny personality and…’

‘STOP!’

‘Pardon?’

‘I’m uncomfortable with this. Let me see if my clothes are dry.’

I went over to the dryer, pulled out my clothes and was thankful that they were indeed dry and rather warm.

‘I’ll get changed.’ I said and before he could say anything, I rushed out of the room, up the staircase and into the bathroom.

In double quick time, I had changed back into my undies, white capri’s and lemon top. My trainers were still a bit damp, but I couldn’t care less at that point. Leaving the robe and slippers in the bathroom, I went downstairs.

Entering the kitchen, I could see Alistair on the phone. He looked up.

‘Hang on Chloe,’ he said, with a smile that would have melt stone, ‘I wont be a moment.

I couldn’t stop there for another minute; I had to go and go now.

‘Thanks for the tea and the drier,’ I said, and quickly walked out of the room before he could say anything else.

I went to the front door and was just about to open it when it opened itself, or so I thought.

Standing on the doorstep was a beautiful woman; she had a key in her hand.

She looked at me with a puzzled expression.

‘Hello,’ she said.

‘Hello, I’m just off, Alistair is in the kitchen, bye.’

I didn’t stop, and just brushed by her. I ran down the drive and out onto the lane, wanting to get as much distance as I could between Alistair and me.

In the headlong rush of going to the cottage, I had recognised the lane where the cottage was, it wasn’t far from the village. I turned left and then, after I became breathless, I slowed to a walk.

I half expected to hear the throaty roar of the Porsche engine as Alistair followed me, but all I could hear was the sound of my heavy breathing and stupid birds twittering in the trees and bushes.

My heart was pounding from unaccustomed exercise. Thinking about what had just happened, I could have been calmer, but I had just panicked.

I was just a stupid star struck idiot. I had had a crush on him and I realised how stupid and futile it was. I tried to rationalise what had just happened.

Firstly, I didn’t like being told that I was beautiful like that; it made me feel uncomfortable at a point where my self-esteem was pretty well at rock bottom. I couldn’t be sure that he was just saying that for some unknown reason that alluded me.

Secondly, it was obvious to me that he had no idea that I was transgendered. Maybe he was the only one on the island who didn’t know, but I wasn’t about to tell him, as I didn’t want to cause any unpleasantness for him or me for that matter. He would have to find out about me from someone else.

Thirdly, the woman. Who was she and why did she have a key? She was too glamorous to be the cleaning lady and therefore she must be intimately acquainted with Alistair.

Was she Alistair’s girl friend, lover, wife and had he been lying to me about being unattached?

I sobbed, wondering whether it had been a good idea to hide myself away in that strange quirky island with its even quirkier inhabitants, where whatever I did, seemed to go pear shaped.

Then I heard it in the distance; the unmistakable sound of a Porsche engine coming my way, very fast.

I darted behind a handy hedge and waited for it to pass.

As the sleek sports car roared by me, I could see the passengers clearly, if very briefly. It was Alistair and the mystery woman.

---

 
To Be Continued...

Sorry about the continued delays in posting. I have a lot of real life things going on at the moment. I hope to post more, larger chapters in the future.

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