Nibbling Fortuna's Toes

"For what? Spaghetti?"

"For agreeing to go out with me tomorrow."

"We have the whole evening yet and we've barely met each other. You might be regretting your invitation later."

"I don't think so."

Laura served the spaghetti. We perched in the kitchen with a bottle of cola and talked about what Laura liked in art, music, performance and culture generally. We agreed on most things, differed in emphasis on some, like jazz. She liked trad jazz. I preferred more modern jazz. Neither of us hated the other's taste that much that we wouldn't be prepared to experiment by going to see something the other liked and we weren't so keen about.

About eleven o'clock I announced that I really ought to go home.

"Must you?"

I sighed.

"I'd like to stay but - today is the day that Beatrice and I decided we weren't meant for each other and we met for the first time. If I stay you and I will never know whether our relationship started because I was on the rebound from Beatrice."

"Oh," Laura said, "I see, I suppose. It seems a shame to waste an empty flat. Usually there are at least two of us here so romance is difficult. I don't know when we'll have another night alone."

"Whenever you want, Laura. You may share a flat. I live alone in my small house. It's not as large as this flat but it is always available for visitors."

Laura brightened up.

"So, if I wanted to, I could stay with you overnight?"

"Whenever you want to, but tonight is really too soon, isn't it? Think about it. We met for the first time a few hours ago and most of the time Beatrice has been with us. What do we know about each other?"

"I've heard a lot about you from Beatrice and Emily and the evidence of your work is all over this flat."

"But Beatrice told me virtually nothing about you except that you sometimes work night shifts."

"I do. Three weeks on, a few days off, then three weeks of day shifts but in between I'm studying."

"Studying what?" I asked.

"Nursing. I take my last examinations in December. You really don't know anything about me, do you, Derek?"

"Very little. Beatrice referred to you a few times. I think I know more about Emily than I do about you..."

"...and a lot more about Beatrice. She is inclined to talk a lot about herself, isn't she?"

"I don't, sorry, I didn't object. I was interested in her sporting activities and she's very good at some of them, isn't she?"

"Yes," Laura sounded doubtful. "She would be better and possibly in the running for national prominence if she would concentrate on one sport. She tries to be good at everything and is always trying new sports. She really needs a coach who will get her up to standard in the disciplines she is best at. I've tried telling her. So has Emily. But Beatrice enjoys doing so many sports. For example she plays hockey every weekend and sometimes picks up injuries that limit her athletics. I often have to patch her up when she gets back to the flat. Our first aid kit has to be very comprehensive -- just for Beatrice. Enough about her. What am I going to do with you?"

"What do you want to do with me?" I asked.

"I have an idea."

Laura got down from the kitchen stool, held out her hand and took mine. We walked through to the living room.

"Sit there!" she ordered.

I sat on the settee. Laura climbed on, facing me and her knees either side of my legs. I was looking up at her face. Her mouth came down to kiss my upturned face and her hair fell either side of my head.

"I'm going to give you a sample of what I have that Beatrice hasn't," Laura said as the kiss ended. "Don't move."

She moved my head forward and down so that my face was against her clothed breasts. She pulled me tight into her cleavage. She was right. Beatrice, spectacular as she is, isn't over-endowed up top. She has small breasts on a muscular torso. On her they look right. Laura's breasts were much larger, softer and she was smothering me between them. Beatrice couldn't have smothered me.

Laura wriggled slightly. Now I was in real trouble. Not only was my face trapped in her cleavage but her breasts were pressed to the sides of my face. She had nearly surrounded my head with her soft pleasantly scented flesh. I was beginning to worry about running out of breath when Laura eased her grip. She held me deep between her breasts with just enough space to allow me to breathe.

Laura let me go, kissed me again, and climbed off.

"I think that's enough of a sample until tomorrow morning. You'd better go now before I, or you, get too excited."

She kissed me again at the flat's front door. Another kiss like that and my resolution to go would have evaporated.

I was in a daze as I went downstairs to my car. I sat in it for a few minutes before I was ready to drive to my lonely house.

I arrived back at their flat about nine-thirty on Sunday morning. Laura came down to meet me.

"Your car or mine?" I asked as I recovered from another of Laura's kisses.

"You'd be a passenger while I drive?" Laura sounded incredulous.

"Why not? I can't see any accident damage on your car. You are probably as good or driver as I am, possibly a better one."

"OK. We'll go in my car. You'll have to wait while I get the starting handle."

"Starting handle? Why do you need that?" I asked.

"I don't know. It's got a fairly new battery but the starter motor seems pathetic."

I looked at the engine compartment, grasped a battery connection and waggled it.

"That's why," I pronounced. "The battery isn't properly connected. Hang on a sec."

I went to my car, took out a wrench and tightened the connections to the battery.

"Try starting it now."

The starter motor whirred briskly and the engine started. I put the wrench back in my car, locked it and got into the passenger seat of Laura's car.

I was right. Laura was a good driver. After the first mile I relaxed and enjoyed being chauffeured. I slumped in the seat to a more comfortable position. When she stopped at the next red traffic light Laura glanced quickly at me.

"You look relaxed. You really do trust my driving, don't you?"

"Why not?" I retorted. "It's pleasant to be driven for a change."

"But most men..."

"Am I most men?"

"No. I'm beginning to think you're not."

She let in the clutch as the lights changed. As we came closer to Ham House I had to give her a few directions until the National Trust road signs appeared. She pulled into the car park and reversed the car into a small gap. We climbed out.

"I've never had a man as a passenger who was as calm as you were. They usually stab a foot at an imaginary brake pedal and start criticising my driving."

"Then they are stupid. There's nothing wrong with your driving. The car? That's a different matter. It ought to respond better than it does. I'll have to sort it out."

"What's wrong with it?"

"Do you want the complete list, Laura?"

"Yes, Derek, please. I can't afford repairs this month."

"You won't have to. I have most of what's needed and almost all the work doesn't need parts, just adjustments. For example, when you accelerate the car takes its time to respond. The carburettor needs cleaning and adjusting and the linkage needs greasing. The brakes pull to one side. They need balancing. One of the rear wheels is slightly loose. I can fix that here, now. A wheel bearing needs tightening slightly. That's a fifteen-minute job once we're back at my car. There are a few other things, all more minor."

"And you diagnosed all that during the drive here?"

"No. In the first mile. That's when I could relax because I knew there was nothing major wrong with the car."

"So, if you hadn't been working out what was wrong with my car you would have relaxed earlier?"

"Yes. Why not?"

Laura kissed me, hard.

"That's for being a great passenger. I've never had anyone, not even my parents, trust my driving that much."

"Now can I fix that wheel, please?" I asked. "I'd like it done before we go in."

It took me five minutes, most of which was jacking the car up so that the wheel was almost clear of the ground. A few turns of the wheel brace and the nuts were tight. I went to the public conveniences and washed my hands.

We had arrived too early for the tour of the house but not long after the gardens had opened. Laura took my hand as we walked slowly through the formal gardens. Behind a tall hedge she swung me around and kissed me again. My arms flapped wildly for a couple of seconds before I wrapped them round her and hugged. She hugged back and we continued our slow tour of the gardens hip to hip.

After a while Laura said:

"Where's Fortuna?"

"This way," I replied.

The notice explaining the damage to Fortuna's toes was still there. Laura read it carefully.

"Derek, did you ask her for a favour yesterday?"

"Well, er, yes," I replied sheepishly.

"Did she grant it?"

"I think so."

"Then she deserves this."

Laura pulled a small glass medicine bottle from her jacket pocket and unscrewed the top.

"This is Italian wine, Chianti, since she's a Roman Goddess. I'm going to pour a libation to her, in a moment. First, you should pour yours in thanks for yesterday's favour. A teaspoonful is enough to show your thanks."

Laura handed me the bottle. I poured a teaspoonful at the base of the plinth on which Fortuna stands.

"Say it!" Laura insisted.

"Say what?"

"Thank you."

I looked around. There was no one near us, no one in sight at all.

"Thank you, Goddess Fortuna, for granting my request yesterday." I said.

"That's better. Now it's my turn."

Laura poured a couple of teaspoonfuls of Chianti on the ground.

"Please, Fortuna, grant my request. Now we should drink a small toast to her."

Laura lifted the bottle towards the statue, brought it down to her mouth, tilted it and drank a small amount. She passed the bottle to me. I repeated Laura's actions.

Laura pushed me so that I was leaning against Fortuna's plinth. She pulled my head down to kiss me. While holding that kiss, her hands went past me to grasp Fortuna's legs.

"Now she knows exactly what I want," Laura said as we walked away.

"And what exactly do you want?" I asked.

"You."

"And you think Fortuna will grant your request?"

"Of course. You want me too, don't you?" Laura shook her head. "No. It's too soon. Give Fortuna time. The rest of today will do."

We walked back to the house and started the unaccompanied tour. It was so different from my visit with Beatrice yesterday. We took our time, pointed out things to each other, argued about which was the best item in each room, talked to the room guides, discussed the history of the house and its owners and really enjoyed ourselves for a couple of hours.

When we left the house we went to the café in the Orangery. As we queued, Laura stood behind me with her arms wrapped around my waist and her head resting against my back. I had to untangle myself to pick up the tray with our food.

"Sorry," Laura said.

"Sorry for what?" I asked as we sat down.

"For impeding you at the counter."

"That's OK. I enjoy having you wrapped around me."

"But I shouldn't do it so much, so soon, Derek. It's my way of demonstrating ownership. I like hugging you."

She suddenly looked sad.

"What's up?"

"I used to enjoy hugging Brian. He seemed to like it at first but later he would push me off. That hurt."

"Who's Brian?"

"I forgot. You know so little about me. Brian was my last boyfriend. It all ended in tears a couple of months ago. What made it worse was Beatrice's account of how you behaved with her. You weren't sure about the relationship; neither was she, yet you behaved impeccably. You never pushed her further than she wanted to go, never demanded anything, and didn't take advantage of her..."

"...and Brian did all that?" I interrupted.

"Yes. And more." Laura was almost in tears.

I stood up, moved around the table, picked her up and sat her on my lap. She rested her head on my shoulder. Her eyes were glistening with unshed tears.

"Cheer up. Brian's not here. I am, and our meal is getting cold. Eat up and then we need to talk, about you and about us. Food first and then we have as much time as you want."

We ate that meal awkwardly. At one point I stopped. Laura fed me. We attracted some curious looks from the few people in the café but I didn't mind. I had an attractive, warm friendly woman on my lap. The inconvenient eating was a small price to pay.

Afterwards we walked around the gardens again ending up at Fortuna's statue.

"I like my toes," Laura said. "I know they're not as elegant as Beatrice's nor do my legs go on forever, like hers, but..."

I looked at her toes as she mentioned them. They were nice toes peeping out of her sandals.

"...they look eminently suitable for nibbling." I finished for her.

Laura laughed.

"No one has ever nibbled my toes!"

"Then you've been missing something," I retorted.

"So, Derek, when are you going to nibble my toes?"

"Tonight?"

"Why not? You could, if I come to your house. Beatrice and Emily will be back in the flat this evening."

"What about tomorrow morning?" I asked. "When do you have to be at work?"

"Never. Tomorrow is part of my time off, as is today. I'm on day shifts from Wednesday."

"What about your studying? Didn't you say that you had to study on your days off?"

"Yes. I've recently taken some exams. There's no real pressure to study for a couple of weeks. I can relax for a few days. I'd like to spend them with you, but you have to go to work tomorrow, don't you?"

"Maybe not. I'm owed some time-in-lieu because they're reluctant to pay for the overtime I did last month. I could ring my boss first thing tomorrow. If he agrees I could stay away from work Monday. If he doesn't, I'd just be a few minutes late because I normally walk to the office. If I go by bus I would be there almost on time."

"So we might be able to have another day together?"

"If, and it is an if, my boss agrees."

"I've still got some wine in the bottle. I think Fortuna needs another libation and a plea that your boss should agree. OK?"

"Yes."

Laura poured the rest of the Chianti at the foot of Fortuna's pedestal.

"Please, Fortuna, make Derek's boss agree." Laura said.

We walked around the gardens for another hour and went back to Laura's car. It started promptly and we drove off.

"That's incredible," Laura said.

"What is?"

"The difference you've made to starting this car."

"It wasn't difficult. Now that the battery is properly connected it has enough power for the starter motor, and because it's properly connected the dynamo charged the battery as you drove here."

I pointed at the ammeter in front of her.

"When we left the flat that was reading at maximum. Now it is reading one because the battery is nearly charged, and the dynamo is replacing what you used when you started. By the time you have driven a couple of miles the ammeter will read just above zero. As long as it is above zero all the time you have no problems with the battery or dynamo. Most of the year you would only use the battery when starting."

"I didn't know what the ammeter was for."

"It measures how much electricity you are generating and using. If it goes below zero to a minus figure then the battery is supplying electricity, not the dynamo. That's a warning sign. If you turn those on..."

I pointed at the electrical demisters stuck to the inside of the windscreen.

"...then the dynamo probably won't cope on its own, particularly if you have your headlights on. At this time of year you don't need demisters. Even when you do, it's probably better to use a soapy cloth than to turn the demisters on. They eat electricity and can drain your battery when you need it most for starting."

"Oh. I didn't know that."

"Why should you, Laura? Unless you go to a car maintenance class no one explains that to you and car handbooks are boring to read, if you've got one."

"I haven't."

"I think I've got a spare one for this model. I'll see if I can find it when I'm sorting out the other problems. Do you check the oil and water regularly?"

"Yes. Dad showed me and it's very simple on this car, isn't it?"

"Everything is very simple on this car, and on mine."

"Hey! That knocking noise from the back has gone."

"That was the loose rear wheel. If you listen carefully you can still hear a faint rumble."

"Yes, I can just hear that."

"It's the loose wheel bearing. I'll sort that out, either later today or with the other items tomorrow if I have tomorrow off. When was your car last serviced?"

"Serviced? When I bought it."

Laura looked at the speedometer.

"I've only done three hundred and forty miles since then."

"How long have you had the car?"

"Three months. Before that I was borrowing one of my brother's cars."

"Brother? You've never mentioned a brother, Laura."

"Haven't I? No. I haven't told you anything about my family, have I?"

"Except that you've mentioned your father, no."

"OK. I have a father. He is a civil servant. So was Mum. They met during the war when he was in the RAF and she was working at an RAF station. I have two older brothers. One is married and they have a baby due in a couple of months, the other is still living at home and working in London. He's flat hunting and hopes to move out before Christmas but he has to sort out his cars. He lent me one of his better cars, a more modern one than this; while he used one he wanted to sell.

He sold that one and wanted his car back so he and my father found this one for me. But..."

"...do your brothers have names?"

"Oops! Of course they do. The married one is Alex, married to Susan. The younger one is Terry, short for Terence. He's the one with the cars."

"And where do your parents live?"

"Hayes, Kent not the one in Middlesex, close to Hayes Common. Enough about my family for a while. What about yours?"

"Mine? I don't have much of one. I was an only child. My father was a soldier. He was killed in Aden a couple of years ago. My parents divorced when I was thirteen years old. I was at boarding school when they divorced. My father had custody because my mother didn't want me..."

"That's sad. Why didn't she?"

"She was fed up with my father's frequent postings and wanted to settle down. He couldn't without giving up his Army career. She stayed in England when he was posted to Singapore. Thinking back, the marriage was probably broken before then. While my father was away she met an Australian. My parents divorced. About a year later she went to Australia and married the man she's met. I'm still in touch with her, and him. He seems a great person but I've only seen him twice since they married when he's come to London on business."

"What happened to you?"

"The boarding school was paid for by the Army. During the summer holidays I'd visit my father, wherever he was, but for the other holidays I either stayed at the school, went on holidays organised for kids of my age, or, rarely, visited my father's brother in Scotland. When I'd finished school I went to University and lived in digs.

My father had a posting to London for a couple of years. The family home had been sold and the proceeds split between my parents. My father bought the house I live in now with his half of the money. It was my base when I wasn't at university. I'd graduated and started work at my present job when Dad went off to Aden and never came back.

At one time I thought that he might have taken too many risks and wanted to die. His Army friends told me that wasn't true. He'd met another woman and they were thinking of getting married. After all the divorce had been seven years earlier. He went out on patrol and a land mine exploded under their Land Rover, killing all four of them. It was one of the things that could happen in the Crater district of Aden then.