Share Your Toys, Timothy!

Tim looked around. The flat was tiny, a breakfast bar separating the galley kitchen from the living room. She had a small television set in the corner, but one of the walls was completely covered in shelves packed full of books. He got up and idly looked through them, lots of literary classics manuscripts for plays and shelves of education books and teaching aids. Michelle obviously took her subject seriously. She was clearly not one of the light, fluffy females that he tended to meet at places like the nightclub; how would she regard him, he thought? He was anything but cultured.

"Almost ready," she announced as she bounced back into the room, in what Tim thought was a surprisingly short amount of time in his experience of women changing their apparel for a date, like Patty earlier this evening. That seemed a long time ago now. She had tied up her long brown hair in a pony tail held by a yellow scrunchie, her slender frame enveloped in a polo-neck jumper, thick brown corduroy jeans and thick woolly socks.

They proceeded to the door, where she put on some chunky well-broken-in hiking boots, and grabbed a scarf, woolly hat and gloves.

"Ready," she smiled warmly, and opened the door.

She lived only ten minutes' drive away from Tim's house in the light, almost non-existent, traffic at that time of night, so very soon they were going up his drive while he operated the remote garage door and drove smoothly into his double-width garage. He got out of the car and scooted around to let her out of the passenger door. Then Tim flicked on the garage lights and closed the door of the garage to keep the temperature up.

Michelle stood back and admired the car, gleaming under the lights.

"It looks classically beautiful and very old," she observed.

"Forty-seven years old," he said, "It's definitely a classic. In that dress you wore earlier, though, both in colour and classic lines, you complimented each other perfectly."

She smiled as his compliment, "How long have you had it, Tim?"

"About ten years. It wasn't too bad mechanically when I bought it but I did need to put in a little bit of body and paintwork to get it up to showroom quality."

"Do you use it much? I see you have a brand-new saloon next to it."

"That's my company car, and I use that most of the time. The E-Type is mine and only comes out for special occasions and very rarely used in the winter. I wanted Patty to feel special when I took her out to the party tonight. It seems to have worked."

"I think so, Patty's a lovely girl and Rod seemed to be quite taken with her," Michelle said with a grin, "Provided he gets over your dire warning."

"Well, I was his age once upon a time," Tim grinned back sheepishly, recalling her lip-reading expertise demonstrated earlier, "I'm sure if her father was about he would have said the same thing."

"Well, you took your father-figure role very seriously; you seemed to have mellowed since your youth, right?"

"Absolutely," he said, with his hand on his chest, "You are the first young lady I have invited back here in a couple of years, at least. Anyway, come on through to the house while I get out of my monkey suit and dress as comfortably as you."

He unlocked the door through to the kitchen, leaving the light on in the garage and flicking on the kitchen light switch. He believed that his kitchen was one of the most impressive features of his remodelled house that definitely had that wow! factor. The original house came with a small kitchen at the back of the house. When Tim moved in about five years earlier he built on this extension which filled in the gap between the house and the detached double garage. This enabled Tim to create a large kitchen with modern storage units and state of the art ovens around the walls, a food prep island in the middle with dark granite worktops, a walk-in pantry and a breakfast area at the front end of the room. The original kitchen had been gutted and turned into a light and airy formal dining room leading through to an added sun room on the back wall of the house.

"Wow!" she exclaimed, "I know at least a dozen women who would kill you for this kitchen, including my Mum." She examined his face, which must have looked somewhat smug. "Earlier you hinted that you cook. Does this mean you cook a lot, or is all this for show?"

"I cook everything," Tim said, "And I hope to do be able to produce something a little better than a barbecue for your birthday, by which time I hope to learn exactly where your tastes lie."

"If it's home-cooked I will probably eat anything you serve up. These pots and pans look well used." She pointed to the cast-iron pots hanging up over the island.

"They are, although I do enjoy eating out regularly too." he said, "And still bring the occasional home take-away when I am too tired to cook or I tire of cooking just for one."

"Is the rest of the house as tidy as the kitchen? I feel even more of a slouch knowing you have seen my place at its very worst."

"Yes, I'm afraid I'm very organised in business and that translates to being tidy domestically. Want the six-penny guided tour?"

"Why not?"

Michelle had noticed Tim had kicked off his shoes as he entered the kitchen and, without him saying anything, she pulled off her hiking boots and walked around in her thick socks. The house was well insulated and quite warm and her stockinged feet informed her that the tiled floor had been installed with under-floor heating.

Tim smiled at her in appreciation of her respect for his home, with the delicious thought tickling his subconscious that this could be her home one day. If she had left her boots on he probably wouldn't have said anything, but it was very nice to see her take note of his own action and care enough to respond in like fashion. Tim held out his hand and she took it in hers with a heart-warming display of her flashing smile. He led her through the house, turning on the lights as they progressed room by room.

Downstairs there was the kitchen, of course, then the dining room and the sitting room. Along the whole length of the back of the house was the triple-glazed sun room, comfortably fitted out with bamboo furniture and bamboo-print soft covers. There were blinds pulled all around and inside the glass roof. Tim operated the electric blind retractor and switched on the lights in the garden. It wasn't an overly large garden, but there was a large deck with a sheltered built-in barbecue to one side and the garden laid out to lawns and scrub beds.

Tim switched the garden lights off and closed the blinds. At the front of the sitting room there was a hallway with a door to a toilet on the righthand side and a small office where he kept a computer and his own shelves of books. Michelle ran an index finger down the titles, some guide books but mostly hardback autobiographies and modern fiction, consisting of adventure, spy thrillers and mystery crime novels. There were a few other books on management, accounting and salesmanship plus a whole shelf full of cookery books, which made Michelle smile.

Upstairs there were the two original double-sized bedrooms, both fitted out nicely as guest bedrooms plus a family bathroom. Tim saved the best until last, the master bedroom, which was an additional build to the original house and had the same footprint as the kitchen below. The original third bedroom had been turned into a large en suite bathroom with circular bath and large walk-in shower big enough for two. In the large bedroom there were plenty of fitted wardrobes and drawers for clothes and a king-size bed.

"Mmm," she said with tongue in cheek, "I expected a four-poster in here at the very least, and wall mirrors."

"Sorry to disappoint you," he replied gently, opening a wardrobe when he kept his suits and pulling out a hanger with a suit pouch on it, "I only use this room for sleeping in, not for entertaining. There's a full-length mirror in the wardrobes on that side of the room."

"Oh, I'm not disappointed at all, I am very impressed. I assume the wardrobes on this side are 'his' and those are 'hers'?"

"The room was designed that way," Tim agreed, "Those ones are still largely empty."

Michelle smiled beautifully, coyly adding, "Did you want me to go downstairs while you change or ... simply turn my back?"

"You can just stay right where you are if you like, I'm not going to reveal anything likely to be too embarrassing to either of us."

"I've seen boys get changed before," she smiled back at him, standing her ground.

Tim proceeded to unzip the suit pouch, removed his jacket and inserted it into the hanger. He looked out a pair of denim jeans from another wardrobe and a thermal vest and thick cotton shirt from a couple of drawers. Then he removed his bow tie and tossed it on the bed, before unbuttoning and unzipping his dress trousers and taking them off revealing his silk boxer shorts.

He was about to toss the pair of trousers onto the bed, but Michelle approached him.

"I'll take those," she smiled, took them from his hand and, while he pulled on his jeans, she folded the trousers and hooked them onto the bar of the hanger, leaving the outer zip of the suit pouch open, and hanging it up outside the wardrobe to air for him.

"I'd love to have the clothes space that you have," she said quietly, with a degree of envy.

Tim grinned, "You might just have to move in then, won't you?"

"Mmm," was the only response Tim could hear, but the low hum was accompanied by her cute smile. "Mum and Abbey do seem to be pushing me that way...."

"Pushing both of us that way," he agreed, "But we're each capable of individual thought and action, aren't we?"

"Of course we are," she smiled, "So, I suggest that we defer the decision on which one of us moves for at least a day or two, then."

"Think we might have to put in a bid to add the flat next door if I move to your place," Tim observed.

"Or I could just scrunch up a bit if you do."

"True," he nodded with a grin, "We'll have to carefully weigh up the options, first. It might be prudent for each of us to check through our address books so we are organised as far as sending out change of address cards is concerned."

"Naturally," she laughed, "It's certainly fun thinking about it, although I would be loath to lose my present window cleaner, he does such a good job."

"That may just swing the decision in your direction then," Tim commented, "Unless your window cleaner is too cute for my comfort."

"Damned shame, that could be a real deal breaker; he is soooo cute," she said, with a deeply-dimpled smile, "I'm such a sucker for sweet white-haired grandfathers."

"I'll stop plucking my stray grey hairs with immediate effect, then," Tim chuckled.

"I would if I were you," she laughed, "It's a lost cause anyway, honey. There's a lot round the back you can't see in the mirror. Makes you look quite distinguished, though."

By the time she had finished hanging up his suit, he had removed his shirt and tossed that on the bed, pulled on his warm undershirt and was hooking his arms through the sleeves of his thick cotton shirt. Michelle moved to stand directly in front of him and started to do up the buttons of his shirt.

"Nice bod, Tim," she breathed, looking at his chest, doing up another button.

"This is a first for me!" he teased, "Aren't you supposed to be undoing rather than doing up these buttons in my bedroom?"

"I'll have you know that I'm not that kind of girl on a first date. Besides, everyone knows that the buttons have to be properly done up before they can be undone. And I certainly don't make a habit of undoing the buttons of red-blooded men who I have only known for a few hours!"

"I'll have to keep on asking you out as often as I can then, until we know each other a lot better."

"Perhaps you ought to do that."

"I probably will; you're coming to dinner tomorrow night for a start, aren't you?"

"I wouldn't miss it for the world," she smiled as she reached the lowest button, before leaving Tim to tuck himself into his jeans, "You didn't say whom we were dining with other than some very good friends of yours?"

"No, you are right, I hadn't. The guy is Simon Bailey, he manages one of the express supermarkets in the High Street. I've known him for about fifteen years; his lovely parents lived two doors down from me in the house I lived in before I moved to this place. His girlfriend, Sarah, was with Abbey when those rascals tried their drug trick."

"Oh! And Simon was one of the friends with you at that time then, was he?"

"He was."

"I can definitely imagine what you said to your two friends," she chuckled, remembering the lip-reading earlier in the evening, "And I suppose he was a perfect gentleman to both girls that night?"

"He was, absolutely on his honour."

"And he made a connection with Sarah that night?"

"Apparently so, although I wasn't aware of the fact until a couple of days ago."

"And you were going to go out with them tomorrow as a third wheel, or what?"

"It does look like that," Tim agreed with a chuckle.

"So, is there some trouble in the camp, relationship-wise?"

Tim laughed as he pulled a thick woollen jumper from a drawer and pulled it over his head, "I assumed you were a smart cookie, now I know for a fact you are. Why should I be surprised?"

"Oh, I'll try and make a point of keeping you surprised from time to time, but in a nice way, of course."

"Of course. And I will try and keep you on your toes too, in an equally pleasing manner, naturally."

"Well, I must say, you certainly pleasantly surprised me with this house, I think it's wonderful."

"Well, it's just a house at the moment, not quite the family home yet that it has the potential to be. But you can move in and help make it more of a home whenever you want, I'll even let you have your own room if needs be." He grinned at her.

Tim sat on the bed and removed his dark ankle socks and pulled on a pair of long thick pale-coloured woollen ones, while Michelle had gone quite quiet, but that wasn't for long.

"Stop changing the subject back to us, Tim, it's very distracting. Now, tell me more about the relationship between Simon and Sarah?" she asked, "If I am going along with you for dinner I might put my foot in it if I don't know what the problem is."

"You are right, of course," Tim agreed, "On that first night out they obviously made a good impression on one another. Once Sarah went to college a couple of days later they continued to communicate with each other over the phone and email, even meeting up for a couple of short weekend breaks. I believe Simon took the relationship very seriously, considering he had already been burned badly by his failed marriage, perhaps more seriously than she did. My friends and I even stopped seeing him out at night in his usual haunts the last couple of months, as he was no longer out looking for female company."

"So it was Sarah that let him down?"

Tim nodded, "Apparently she got drunk and, well you can imagine what happened. She didn't learn a lesson from the trouble with Toby and ... Scott? No, Stuart, I think that was the name of her boyfriend at the time. Sarah felt guilty about what happened at college and owned up as soon as she got together with Simon. He took what she had to say very badly, walked out and left her stranded wherever they met up. I got them together here in my kitchen yesterday, well Thursday evening it was, and at least they are now talking to each other again and appear to want to get back together. They are going to take it one step at a time."

"So this is what you are prepared to do for friends?"

"Why not? I'm willing to do anything reasonable if it helps, I like Simon a lot, we've been friends a long time, and Sarah seems a nice lass, although scatty and sometimes acts pretty dumb for a college girl. They seem to be in love and are hopefully prepared to make the best of the situation they find themselves in. I like Si's daughter Sammy too, and having her father in a loving relationship could be better for her too."

Michelle put her hands around his face and gave him a soft kiss that almost had him lose his resolve to take her out for the rest of the night. "You're a sweet man, Tim Smith."

"We better get going, I think," he said, not before time.

"If you think so," she smiled as she followed him out of the bedroom door. As they made their way back through the house he switched off the lights. In the kitchen he grabbed some bottled water for the journey from the fridge.

"Do you want a sandwich or anything to eat while we travel, Chelle?" he asked.

"No, after the feast at the party I think I can hang on until breakfast."

Tim put on his boots and grabbed a thick coat, hat, scarf and gloves from a cupboard by the kitchen door and they entered the garage, locking the kitchen door behind them. He directed Michelle around to the Jaguar saloon and opened the passenger door for her, switched off the garage light and flicked the switch to open the garage door. He got into the driver's side, started the engine, the headlights coming on automatically. Tim reversed the luxury saloon out of the garage and closed the doors before they drove smoothly off down the road. In a very short time the heaters, much more efficient than the E-Type, warmed the inside of the car up and they headed towards the coast via Leeds and York. By a quarter to five in the morning they entered the seaside resort of Scarborough, which was pretty well deserted in mid-winter.

On the journey Michelle initially asked Tim to tell her about the first incident where Abbey was almost date-drugged, then insisted on a full account of the Dairy Alley fracas. Tim was frank and gave her all the details, without any speculations on his part. Occasionally, Michelle chipped in with a comment or a question. Tim decided that he didn't want to leave anything out.

"So. Tim, do you think that the three boys intended to rape Abbey?"

"Yes, I do," admitted Tim, "If Toby was going to keep her exclusively for himself he would have already secured the drug, not taken it from his pal. The other two youths were looking at her with clear intent from the time I noticed them."

"And the boy Stuart thought he was on a promise from Sarah and you believe that was the only reason her drinks weren't also spiked?"

"Yes, I do," Tim said quietly.

"So, if Sarah and Abbey just wanted a night of dancing and you hadn't been there, they'd both have been raped by those four sleazebags?"

"I think that's the way it looked like it was intending to pan out. Stuart was on a certainty he thought, and he happily let the other three do what they wanted to do to his girlfriend's friend."

"Poor Abbey, she's a lovely girl but she would have been devastated by that and never been the same person again. I don't know how we will ever be able to thank you enough."

"Chelle, anyone would have done the same."

"No they wouldn't have! Abbey told me that your two friends hadn't seen anything out of the ordinary. She would have taken that drug plus all that drink they were giving her and Toby could have carried her out of there and nobody would have stopped them."

There was nothing more to say on the subject and Michelle held his hand all the way to the coast. Amazingly, they found plenty of other things to talk about on the road and both of them stayed awake and lively the whole way. Tim couldn't remember after all this time exactly what they spoke about, but the subjects included their families, likes and dislikes, what interested them, the pros and cons of their jobs, their separate plans and hopes for the future. There was a sense as they discussed the last point of some probing on either side to question and confirm how similar they shared their future hopes and dreams.