They look like them, they're not them. They're mine.
They're two women and they might be doing naughty things (but probably not graphically) I haven't decided that yet -- but just in case, if you know you shouldn't be reading then please don't.
No violence. Some swearing.
The spelling and grammar is correct. It's English. I'm English.
Complaints, comments, phone numbers or photos to firstname.lastname@example.org
Christine Murphy was running late as she jogged through the park gates and down the hill towards St Peter's Lane. Not that she had ever been on time for anything in her life. Right from the start she'd been three weeks overdue, only finally condescending to arrive in the world once her mother had been induced into labour. Even then it had taken her twenty-eight hours to appear. She was hoping to be similarly tardy when she reached the other end of life.
Today however it really wasn't her fault. She had planned properly this time, really she had, but everything that could have gone wrong had done so. The battery in the small travel alarm had run down in the night causing the clock to stop just after midnight. She'd only had to buy the damned thing anyway because she'd accidentally over-wound her trusty old-fashioned monster in her enthusiasm at finally getting a job interview. An interview she wouldn't have needed if her on-again-off-again girlfriend hadn't decided to leave her for good, three months previously, precipitating her resignation. After all, Chris couldn't have remained working for a boss who was now her ex-girlfriend's new girlfriend, could she?
She'd only overslept by twenty minutes though and she still would have had plenty of time to catch the nine o'clock train, if the pilot light on the boiler hadn't gone out leaving her with no hot water. It had taken fifteen minutes to re-light it. Even then she might have made it. If she hadn't decided to wear her morning cuppa instead of drinking it. By the time she managed to find another clean shirt, un-ironed of course, and iron it, not only was the nine o'clock train long gone but the nine-thirty was rapidly passing into history. Her only chance of making her eleven o'clock appointment was the nine-fifty bus which ran from the terminus on the other side of St Peter's Valley Park.
And it all went to prove that her own, special, version of Murphy's Law was alive and kicking and working well. Not that she knew that yet.
Chris reached the bottom of the small slope to find that the past few days of heavy rain had left a large, muddy puddle, almost a small pond really, between the trees. There was no way around it. She looked at it carefully and judged the distance. 'Nothing ventured, nothing gained.' She thought, as she backed up a couple of steps. A quick run forward, a huge leap and she landed safely on the other side. Chris had just finished congratulating herself on a superbly executed manoeuvre when a shout of "Fetch!" drew her attention; just a fraction of a second before something large and orange smacked her painfully across the forehead.
Desperately she struggled to keep her balance. She raised her arms in a flapping motion but to no avail, gravity won and she fell gracelessly backwards to land with a loud splash, full length in the mud. The situation was not improved by the large chocolate-coloured Labrador which ran across her supine form in pursuit of its Frisbee, leaving a beautiful set of muddy paw prints in the centre of what had been a crisp, white shirt.
"Oh my God! I am so sorry. Cadbury, come here! Heel! Come here you stupid dog! Oh dear, I really am sorry."
Chris looked up into the face of a blonde Goddess with the greenest eyes she'd ever seen on a human being. A rather frantically apologetic blonde Goddess, who was currently attempting to rein in her dog whilst simultaneously helping Chris up from the mud. Chris reflected that this was probably not a good combination, at that precise moment the dog spotted an inquisitive squirrel and leapt for it. His owner, already off balance was pulled sideways. Chris had barely enough time to brace herself for impact before she found herself back in the mud, driven deeper into the cold slime by the strange who sprawled rather pleasantly across her body. So completely distracted by the warm softness of the woman in her arms that the mud which trickled inside her shirt and coated her back simply didn't register. Well not at first.
"Urgh. Jesus that's cold. Oh shit, there goes my bus. And there goes my interview."
"Oh I really am so sorry. It's all my fault."
"Well, not all of it, I was having 'one of those days' anyway. You and, what's his name? Cadbury? Like the chocolate? You and Cadbury were just the last in a long line of disasters. Maybe I can call and reschedule." She fished around in her jacket pocket and produced the muddy mess that was once her mobile phone. It emitted a despairing 'cheep' and died. "Damn! I guess not. Oh well, I was thinking about an upgrade."
"You can phone from my house if you like. I live right by the park entrance. That will give me a chance to clean your clothes or at least lend you some fresh ones. And perhaps make you a cup of tea while you wait." The woman said pushing herself up and away from Chris.
Chris felt a rush of sorrow at the loss of contact, swiftly replaced by amusement. She grinned. "Somehow I think that you're very unlikely to have anything to fit me. Don't worry about it, I only live about ten minutes away. I can go home," She sat up in the mud and began to stand.
"Oh no, please, you must let me make amends. Oh my...." She looked up at Chris who was now standing once more. "When your mother told you to eat all your vegetables so you would grow big and strong you listened to her didn't you?" Chris laughed out loud and the woman winced. "I'm sorry that was incredibly rude of me. "
"It's okay, that was much more polite than I usually get. Most people ask about altitude sickness or want to know if I get dandruff or is it snow-drifts."
"If it's not too tactless of me to ask; how tall are you?"
"Just over six feet. You should meet my brother, makes me look petite, he's almost a foot taller. And you..." Chris looked down, briefly hesitated over what she was doing and decided to do it anyway, it had been a long time since she'd joked or flirted with such an attractive woman. "Well... what do you want to be when you grow up, little girl?"
The woman backhanded her in the abdomen. "Hey, no short jokes! You haven't known me long enough for short jokes. I'll have you know I'm five feet four-and-a-quarter inches." She was smiling widely now. "Not everyone wants to be able to look in the windows of passing aeroplanes."
"Oh, I'm wounded now. Passing 'planes indeed. Four-and-a-quarter, huh? The quarter's really important when you're so...vertically challenged. The woman smacked her lightly across the stomach again. Chris was playfully indignant. "Hey. First you brain me with your dog's toys, then your dog attacks me and now you're assaulting me. Keep that up and I may have to sue."
Her demeanour changed instantly. She looked both scared and worried. "Please don't, I'm really sorry, I can compensate you, I'm dreadfully sorry."
"Whoa, whoa. Easy. It's okay, it was meant to be a joke. My turn to apologise, I didn't mean to worry you like that. Please, it's fine honest."
The woman drew a shuddering breath. "Bad memories, sorry, did I freak you out." It was a wan smile but at least it was a smile.
"No worries. My name's Chris by the way, Chris Murphy." She wiped the mud from her hand onto her shirt and offered to shake hands.
"Gayle Kerswill. Pleased to meet you."
"I would like to take you up on your offer of a phone call, thank you and you mentioned tea?" Chris put on her best begging puppy dog look. Gayle laughed.
"Absolutely! Follow me."
"Here you go. Fresh clothes, brand new in fact, a well-meaning relative sent them for my brother but he's both shorter and wider than he would need to be to fit in them." Gayle handed Chris a t-shirt and a pair of track suit bottoms, still in their shrink-wrap packaging. "The shower is in there and there are plenty of towels. I'll be making tea while you clean up. You can make your phone call and then we can have tea and biscuits while I clean your poor clothes."
Showered and dressed in the provided clothes, which turned out to be quite a good fit, and clutching her cleaned but still dead mobile phone Chris headed in the direction of the kitchen as she'd been directed.
"Hi, I don't suppose you have a phone book handy do you? I had the number saved but my mobile died and I didn't have it memorised. I just need to called Bowyer and Stoneheath to let them know I can't make my interview. Thanks."
"Here you go; the phone is in the hallway."
Her phone call completed Chris returned to the kitchen. "All serene." She announced. "I have a new interview appointment for the same time on Friday. Milk but no sugar, thanks" Her comment was in answer to Gayle's raised eyebrow and raised milk carton "So." She continued as she took her place at the table. "Does Cadbury always extend your invitations to morning tea? Because I have to say he really does have a unique way of going about it."
Gayle inhaled a mouthful of tea. After some minutes spent coughing she glared at Chris. "Please warn me next time, I could have choked to death then. If it wasn't physically impossible to choke on a liquid, that is. No, he doesn't but if it works this well I'll have to get him to do it in future. Are you a surveyor, then, since you're arranging interviews with Bowyer?"
"That bothered you? That she had a girlfriend? Sorry, I'm being nosy, don't mind me."
"What? No, not a problem, I'm happy to chat. After all I am drinking your tea and wearing your clothes." She grinned to show that everything was fine. "Oh no, it wasn't that she had a girlfriend, just that it was my girlfriend she had. My ex-girlfriend now of course." Chris remarked, wondering if the disappointment she'd detected in Gayle's voice, in spite of Gayle's attempt made to hide it, had been a result of personal interest. Or simply disapproval of behaviour which could have been interpreted as prejudiced. You just never knew with some people. Though Chris' gaydar was screaming that Gayle was family. Of course she had discretely checked Gayle's hands for jewellery; there was no ring, not on either hand. Not that that meant anything but it was enough to give her hope that the first woman she'd been attracted to in months, might, just might, be available.
Morning tea had lasted well past lunch. Chris' clothes had been cleaned and dried and placed in a bag. And still they had found things to talk about. Gayle, who was indeed gay as she had confirmed, had been a nurse in the accident and emergency department of the regional hospital but was no longer working. She hadn't been terribly clear about why but Chris hadn't wanted to push. They'd discovered they had similar tastes in films and discussed going to the cinema at some unspecified time in the near future. Only the sudden realisation of how late it had become and the imminent arrival of Gayle's brother, who shared the house, had brought them back to the present and the fact that they had things to do. They had said their goodbyes and Chris had returned home before she remembered they hadn't exchanged phone numbers as they'd promised they would.
Not a problem she'd thought. The following morning she'd headed out to the park again, this time dressed for muddy dogs. There had been no sign of Gayle or Cadbury. So she'd gone to the house and knocked on the door. She had been disappointed when it became obvious that nobody was home. She had gone prepared though and she dropped the short note with her name address and phone number into the letterbox. That had been on Tuesday. There hadn't been a call nor had Gayle been in the park on Wednesday or Thursday. Chris didn't think returning to the house was a good idea. She'd really thought they'd hit it off well, obviously Gayle hadn't.
Chris decided to catch the bus for her Friday interview. She still hoped Gayle might be interested, at least in a friendship, she liked her. She tried not to be too hopeful as she entered the park but couldn't help herself. Her hopes were dashed, the park was empty.
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