Easy As Falling Off A Bike.
by Angharad.
part 8.

I felt all trembly as I reached the hall. I knew nothing about Simon but going on the information divulged by Stella, which I know is a dangerous thing, I had to assume he was her fiance. The problem was she had joked about so much earlier that I didn't know what was and wasn't true. But then again, if Simon didn't know about me then I was also a deception or should that be deceiver? What a time to consider syntax?

I had a funny idea flit through what was left of my mind; I was being taken out to be shot by some hostiles, don't ask me who. I was female, so maybe it was my take on Mata Hari, I don't know but as I'm walking to face the firing squad I wonder what they will put on the death certificate. Will it be, "Death by firing squad," Death by misadventure," "Executed," if they weren't legit, would it be, "Unlawful killing," or even, "Murder by person or persons unknown"?

My mind was firmly under control, of what, is the obvious question because it wasn't me? Its attempts to play delaying tactics to stop me being done to death by Stella and the homicidal Simon weren't working, I was now about to enter the same room my possible murderer was waiting in. Surely he could hear the beating of my heart, I was sure it was bouncing between my ribs and bra strap.

Stella gripped my arm and hissed, "It's okay, I told him about the accident so he might think you're a little shocked."

Shocked was okay, 'little' was a word I could take issue with but there was no time, perhaps we could go back upstairs and discuss it? Stella half dragged me into the sitting room, I staggered with buttocks clenched afraid the slightest movement would cause me to fil...., no you don't want to know, suffice it to say, a cough could be dangerous.

I caught my first glimpse of Simon, which given I was looking at the floor most of the time while experiencing a force ten blush, was difficult.

He was tall, dark and handsome. That's it, he was. Okay, he was about six feet tall, with dark curly hair and a smile that could melt steel. I blushed some more as Stella said, "Simon this is Cathy, Cathy, Simon."

"Honestly Stell, you could have told me your friend was beautiful?" He held out his hand to me.

I almost felt like looking around to see if he was talking about somebody else, me - beautiful? Ha! Maybe he would spare my life if I recommended a good optician?

With reservations, I proffered my hand, while blushing and half looking away. He gently took my hand in both of his and said, "Delighted to meet you Cathy are you staying for dinner?"

Staying for dinner? Or should that be staying to dinner? What's the name of that cannibal doctor in 'Silence of the Chickens?' Hannibal, he has a friend for dinner. Oh my God, they're cannibals. They're not just going to kill me, I'm on the menu too!

"How do you do?" I said politely thinking I sounded like Minnie Mouse having a strangulated hernia catch in her knicker elastic.

"How very formal, please do relax, I'm not going to eat you, you know."

That was it, he'd confirmed my suspicions, who else but cannibals would think about eating people? Well cannibals and their prospective victims in that context - damn my brain. That bloody university has something to answer for, or should that be to? Oh sod it!

"A glass of wine, or something stronger?" asked Simon.

"Wine is fine," I said almost poetically. They couldn't poison me in case I was no longer edible, so I felt safe. I took the glass of red and after sipping it thought, but it could be laced with sedatives to make me easier to kill.

I glanced again at Simon who was pouring a glass for Stella from the same bottle, he was about six inches or more taller than I was and probably half as broad again. He wouldn't need sedatives, I'd be a push over.

I glanced again, goodness his eyes were blue! Didn't that maniac monk in the Leonardo Code, have bright blue eyes? Or was it, the Righteous Men? Damn I was mixing my novels as well as my drinks.

"Sorry to hear about your bike, I hope it can be repaired." he smiled at me. "I'll run you back to your place after dinner."

"I'm always telling Simon that I've bumped into old friends, this time it was true," Stella's eyes were laughing as she spoke. I wished I were as pretty as she was.

"Yes but usually they're frumpy old nurses not beautiful cyclists. She says you're doing a master's?"

"Yes, in Forensic Anthropology." I was lying but I thought I 'd make him think twice about killing me.

"My goodness, you must know Ruth?" he smiled and I looked blank.
"Ruth Randall, she teaches on your course."

Oh bugger! "I do?" (cough) I do, of course I do."

"How is she?"

"Fine as far as I know?"

"So her cancer is in remission?"

Talk about digging my own grave, I was making it very deep. How do I get out of this one? I did wonder about simulating an epileptic fit except I've never seen one and I'd need something to make me froth at the mouth. A heart attack? Keep going and I'll have one for real, maybe a simple faint?

At this point fate took a hand in the proceedings, he offered me a chair and in stepping forward my heel caught in a thick rug and I went sprawling - in his general direction.

Red wine flew everywhere, his went over him and I landed on top of him knocking us both over. Amazingly, I didn't get any wine on my clothes. I was so embarrassed and in trying to get up, kept stepping on the hem of my skirt and falling back down again.

Simon, to give him his due, lay there laughing, "First time a girl has fallen for me," he kept saying and chortling. Stella was giggling helplessly and I was making a bigger fool of myself by the second.

"If you're going to have your wicked way with me, can you hurry up this stuff is going to stain my shirt if it dries?" He chortled some more and I blushed as hot as a nuclear reactor core.