THE ASTROMATES... Chapter 9...Part 3.

A continuation of my book.

I couldn’t guess whether she was just teasing or working herself up into some kind of indignant outburst. I only knew I couldn’t read her as well as she could read me.
"I once read, ‘A boy asks but a man takes." I said in half jest.
This time she laughed even louder, throwing her head back. Was this her idea of dominating me, putting me under pressure?
"That would be rape. You wouldn’t rape me, would you Richard?"
Her voice had gone low, teasing. I guessed this was what Alex had meant by crossing verbal swords, parry and thrust in good-natured jousting. I guessed that also meant she liked me. Perhaps I should thrust a little deeper.
"Would I ever rape someone who tried to seduce me?" I quipped.
"You should be so lucky, you mucky sod. I want someone with a ‘Dick’, not someone who uses an inner-tube valve-rubber for a condom!"
She was as sharp as a razor. We cut and thrust at each other with repartee and verbal banter, very much on the base-line. But; If I thought I’d struck gold, I was totally unlucky. Mary, for all her seductive banter and suggestive promises, kept her promise by informing me it was time to hit the road. I set my cup down and rose.
"What about the fishing date?" I asked, not allowing my disappointment to show.
"Phone me." she urged, scribbling the number down and helping me on with my coat.
"What about a kiss?"
One last try as I stood by the door. Mary kissed the palm of her hand and blew the kiss at me.
"Goodnight." she whispered as I closed the door.

The following Sunday, I sat on a soggy river-bank, freezing my nuts off! What a man will do for a shag is something you’ll never find an answer to, not even in Trivial Pursuit! Mary had brought her late husband’s fishing tackle and driven me to this Godforsaken watering hole. We sat in silence, Mary with cigarette in hand, deep in reminiscence, me with rod in hand, wishing like hell we were in bed. Whoever discovered the delights of this hobby must have had a screw loose, either that or such an ugly wife at home; he’d rather sit shivering in the cold, waiting to poach a roach! Me? Give me a warm bed any time!
"It’s nice here, isn’t it?" asked Mary, breaking the silence.
She moved into me, wholesome and sexually alluring. Life was getting just that little bit better.
"It’s lovely." I lied. "So peaceful."
Of course it was bloody peaceful. What person in their right mind would clamber out of a warm bed to sit looking at freezing cold water all day? There wasn’t a soul in sight, not even a bird whistling.
"I never thought I would ever bring anyone here again. This is where my husband used to bring me." said Mary, snuggling even closer as she dogged out her cigarette butt.
"Did you come often?”
Mary pulled away to look at me, trying to decide if I was serious or just being plain smutty.
"Not as often as I’d have liked to." she replied, pulling herself in again.
Now it was my turn to look at her. Her face was impassive although her blue eyes flashed a twinkle. We sat, frozen. We caught nothing, not even a cold and, to top it all, we got told off by a game-warden for not having a fishing-licence. The end of the day had darkened into night and we finished it back at the little pub where we had first met. I, for one, was glad to get back into the warmth of civilisation. We had our little place by the fireside, drinks in our hands, and we kidded each other, Mary giving me a nudging dig in the ribs each time my jokes got too near the mark. In respect, I gave her as good as I got. We were quite tipsy by the time we left the pub, giggling and niggling like two schoolchildren. Mary left her car in the car-park, intelligent, not like a Gemini woman I once knew! Arm in arm, we walked the distance to Mary’s house. The promise of a night’s stay loomed large as, this time, Mary did not ask me in but left the door open for me to follow. There was soft music, a mellow mood of soft light and the warmth of an open fire, all the good things to set the night alight. We shared a bottle of wine; well, Mary drank most of it, while I, fool that I was, helped myself to the brandy.
"Do you want to sleep with me?" she suddenly asked.
I lay, stretched out on the settee. Mary had slumped down to sprawl on the floor at my feet. I knew she had drunk too much and wondered if she had purposely done so, to get beyond any feelings of guilt. Earlier, she had told me I was the first man to enter her life since the death of her husband. It just seemed I might be taking advantage of her state if I said I would sleep with her. What the hell! You can call me a dirty git if you like but, by my reckoning, I was only helping Mary come out into the real world again. In fact, I would be doing her a favour!
"Well? Do you?"
Mary had raised her head to give me a bleary-eyed look.
"Do you want to sleep with me?" she asked again.
"All night long." I replied, rising to my feet.
My head spun as I reached down to pull her upright. Mary was, by no means a little girl, and it took considerable pulling power to get her onto her feet. She giggled, puffing on a cigarette as I guided her up the stairs, having to hold onto the handrail to keep myself upright. We laughed in drunken stupidity as we fell onto the bed, me puffing from exertion, Mary, puffing on her ‘Ciggy’. How we ever ended up in bed, I will never know but I sure as hell know what woke me up! Now, too much drink does funny things to a man. It can make a man aggressive, it can make a man act like a clown, it can make a man tired. You can guess what drink does to me. I fell into a deep slumber! My dream was full of drunken erotica, fierce passion gripped me as I kissed a faceless, naked, woman, the heat of lust burning into my soul. And it was this same blazing heat which caused me to sit bolt upright. In my waking moment, I still felt the heat, the flames, the passion…
The bloody bed! Like a madman, I leapt from the bed, my eyes stinging from the smoke, my lungs coughing up phlegm from the fumes. I was alight! With horror and no little amount of terror, I rushed my singed body to the bathroom and turned on the tap, immersing myself in the life-giving water. By now, the upstairs was full of smoke and I put a soaked towel round my head as I searched for Mary. I found her, lying on the carpet downstairs in the hallway, the phone in one hand, a cigarette in the other.
"I’ve phoned the Fire-Brigade." she said, before passing out.

"A bloody dangerous thing to do, falling asleep with a lighted cigarette." growled the Fire-Chief once everything was under control.
We watched as the ambulance wailed its way down the road, taking Mary to the hospital.
"Bloody stupid!" exclaimed the Chief again. "She could have burned you alive!"

Two days later, I sat in Alex’s office and told him in no uncertain terms… "It was there and then, after the fire, I decided the flames of passion were not, ever, going to be the death of me!"