Chapter One - (Can you explain exactly how it is you know the deceased sir?)Mature

‘Excuse me I don’t suppose you could please help me with this television?’ Her voice was unexpectedly lyrical. Melodic and beautiful the sounds broke up the aggressive tones of Terry’s booming laptop.

Terry would always be glad he turned around to look. His eyes were given a metaphorical feast of poetry as he beheld his angelic new roommate. A summery red mane of ruler straight hair framed an ebony hued mask of absolute splendour. Terry’s 28 year old eyes were well trained to soak in the important visual information.

Build - Slim

Bust - Ample

Legs - Long

Rear - Round and prominent

Complexion - Smooth and perfect

To Terry the mundane day of being mundane Terry had brightened immediately. He hadn’t failed to notice the slender neck and prominent chin, nor had he overlooked that this lady was not wearing a bra beneath her tight white vest top. His mind crafted many scenarios to where this summer clad angel would meet with him. But fantasies are deliberate and this accidental meeting had left him momentarily speechless. He kept his eyes from wandering to her prominent and evidently pierced nipples and forced himself to look into her deep walnut eyes.

Terry in comparison was very average, his job, his life his looks. He was gifted with sapphire blue eyes and strawberry blonde hair, but that was all he felt he was gifted with. Below average height, pallid complexion broken up with prominent freckles and thin lips. But today he was in a rather unflattering pair of faded charcoal combat trousers and his hair was unkempt.

‘Sure I can, need a break from all this important downloading of very important music.’ Terry stood up from the wooden stool he was squatting on and strode over to the interesting new development in his life, hand held out ready for an informal shake of introduction.


‘Rhea.’ The pair had their first physical tryst, enveloping their hands over each others softly and nervously. Terry registered the smooth clamminess of her hands before smiling.

‘So where is this telly?’

Rhea motioned through the open front door to a white van that was parked in the properties crazy paved driveway. The very large Telly was the first and foremost item in the back of the van last to be packed and first to be viewed in awe by the owners new friend.

‘Is that a telly or a new wall?’ Terry looked greedily at the almost arrogant perfection that Rhea had stashed in the back of the vehicle.

Rhea smiled coyly and walked, no scratch that, floated to the van and gripped one of the sides ready to help heave the equipment. Terry decided not to simply help her with her television, but to help her unload her entire life from the van into the last house she would ever attempt to call home.

Thirty minutes or so later the pair were standing in the kitchen sweating in the august heat drinking coke with ice and sharing anecdotes and asking the generic getting to know you questions. Terry learned a lot.

He learned that curiosity and infatuation were separated by a very thin line, he learned that he liked the smell of Lacoste perfume, he learned that his bed had bee far too empty for far too long.

‘So what do you do for a living?’ Terry asked out of a mild curiosity. A curiosity that required a conversation informal inquiry.

‘I don’t want you to judge me.’ Rhea let out an involuntary giggle. Her face emitted a secretive glow, coy, but playful.

‘Why what are you? A porn star?’ He offered his suggestion with the intent to amuse rather than offend.

Her face immediately blanched, turning from an exquisite onyx to a rather disturbing granite in a very horrifying nought to sixty in three heartbeats. This sudden drop in social temperature had not been missed and Terry quickly retracted.

‘I’m sorry I was trying to break the ice. It’s just my sense of humour.’ He kept the wavering stammer from his voice in a weak effort to sound confident and carefree, secretly he wished that the floor would open up before him and suck him down silently, and inevitably into earths greatest abyss.

‘No it’s fine, I’m not a porn star. I’m an escort.’ This ebony angel delivered a hammer blow to the willing and accepting imagination of an internally trembling Terry.

‘I…’ in hindsight Terry realised this may not have been the most articulate of responses he could have chosen at this juncture.

Rhea laughed watching as Terry turned from a pallid paper white to a ripened cherry red.

‘It’s not as exotic as it may sound.’ Rhea smiled despite the awkwardness of the conversation. In truth his reaction was very warming. Embarrassed, speechless, human. She missed the simplicity of humanity. Easily caught off guard, and quick to react to the stereotype of which her job would portray to the average ordinary ignoramus. She never dealt with the average ignoramus, she dealt with the wealthy inadequate that required a service to fill what the ordinary working man would find for himself. It warmed her inside to realise that this was the first man that wouldn’t precede the conversation inquiring into a supplementary price for extra services.

‘Er is that good job?’ Poor, very poor attempt of continuing to keep the conversation rolling but in the circumstances it was the best he could clutch from his extensive vocabulary.

Rhea forced a smile. ‘It’s good money. Easy money in fact. Perhaps too easy. But everything is fake. Your pseudo relationships, your knowledge on the nights given topics, the emotion it’s all play acting. Regardless of the money spent, it’s a very empty job. One that on which you are far too easily judged.

‘There’s too much expectation and you spend your whole career trying to be someone else. Someone you can never be. Your men are for hire and your emotions are for sale. But at least I get to party for free.’

‘Well I can charge you to party if it makes you feel better.’ Terry quipped Rhea laughed involuntarily. ‘No seriously, I can buy a crate of the finest babycham a few balloons and pass the parcel. I’d throw the party poppers in for free.’

Rhea smiled, this random average man had provided her with the exact tonic needed. She felt herself warm inside with every stupidly deliberate simple idiocy. Without really intending to she punched him hard on the arm.

‘Ouch.’ Terry feigned pain clutching his right bicep theatrically with deliberate comedy. ‘How much would I have to pay for that ordinarily?’

‘More than you could afford.’ Rhea forced a serious expression upon her suddenly glowing face. ‘So what do you do?’

‘Oh nothing quite so glamorous. I work in a warehouse. So we have something in common only I get paid to get screwed by fat cat businessmen.’ Terry realised only after he saw the same blanching on her face as before that he may have let a secret fantasy be vocalised. To be fair his stereotypical ignorant character had let himself believe that his new best friend may give out more than just raucous company.

‘I don’t charge for that. I did say I didn’t want you to judge me.’ Rhea realised he was joking but played on his attention. It amused her how easily she could change him from white to red as easily as she could change a room at midnight from light to dark just by pressing a switch.

The earths greatest abyss beckoned Terry once more. He swallowed hard and deliberately and began to stammer a new retraction before Rhea pealed with laughter and punched him again. A warmth had crept between them and time slithered rapidly away from them both like a snake sucking through a pile of pure cocaine.

He listened to her stories and let the words float over his head as he was enveloped by the sound of her laugh, as he was hugged by her scent, as he was led into a very keen fantasy by the way her fiery hair danced in the sunlight.

He led her from the bleach scented kitchen and into the living room and sat down laughing amorously at her tales and tutting appropriately at the small trivial woes that she revealed within her conversation.

This was just the beginning of his dream, the prelude to his nightmare.

The End

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