Back to the Farm Ch. 02

She hesitated. Was now the right time to point out that if Charlie's phone had been disconnected, there was every chance the electricity might have been as well? She took another look at Matt's grim expression and decided that it wasn't. "Okay," she agreed, gazing disconsolately at her feet in Gemma's flimsy sandals. "Let's do it."

It proved impossible to lock the car doors. Matt gave the front wheel a disgusted kick. "I can't believe I was talked into buying this heap of crap."

"Wasn't your first choice then?" Melissa waited for him to pick up his briefcase, casting a nervous look at the darkening sky above them before trying to assess just how far it was to the bungalow. It had to be another eight or nine hundred yards, at least. It would feel like three miles in Gemma's flimsy shoes.

"No. It's only about the fifth time I've driven it. I bought it just after Christmas and I've been away ever since." Plump raindrops began to spatter on to the ground. It was Matt's turn to glance at the sky. "Hmm. Maybe we should get a move on."

She struggled valiantly to match the increase in pace but as Matt had considerably longer legs it meant she was almost running to keep up. "So why did you buy it?" she asked, trying to catch her breath.

"I'd just found out Charlie was dying and that I'd got to go to Singapore for three months. It seemed a good idea at the time."

"At least you knew Charlie was dying."

He gave an exasperated sigh. "Don't start that again."

"Why not?" Rivulets of rainwater were beginning to trickle down her bare arms. "You know damn well you should've told me, no matter what Charlie said."

"I couldn't tell you. I promised him I wouldn't. Do you really think I wanted to keep a secret like that? I had to go to Singapore knowing he probably wouldn't be here when I got back."

"Oh." An unexpected surge of rage swept through her. "Poor old Matthew. Bought yourself a flash car to make yourself feel better then, did you? I thought it was only women that did retail therapy."

"Oh, for God's sake!" As the heavens opened, Matt shrugged out of his jacket and pulled it over his head then began to walk even faster, leaving her behind. "It wasn't retail therapy!" he shouted over his shoulder. "I needed a new car."

"What the hell for? You just said you haven't been in the country since January."

Matt swore loudly. "Do you think we could drop this for now? We're going to get soaked!"

"Then maybe we should've stayed in your crappy useless car!" She blinked back tears, already soaked, her feet slipping painfully against the soles of her shoes as she took each step along the track, blisters developing on her little toes. Gemma's sandals were clearly intended for decoration only. They provided no protection at all.

Wrenching her handbag off her shoulder, she reached into it and retrieved the keys to the bungalow. "Matt!" When he turned she sent the bunch sailing through the air. "Catch! I can't keep up. It's pointless for us both to get drenched."

The keys landed in a puddle, splashing mud halfway up his trouser leg. "Oh, great shot!" he called sarcastically, snatching them up. "I'll see you up at the bungalow!"

Melissa watched him break into a jog then disappear round the bend, miserably wondering why on earth she'd agreed to this. Peeling off her cardigan, she pulled it over her head as Matt had done with his jacket then trudged on for a few more steps. But it was no good. In far too much pain to continue, she stopped, swore using precisely the same words she'd claimed not to understand earlier and decided it would be easier to walk barefoot.

Without further deliberation, she whipped off each sandal, ducked her head through the strap of her handbag so that it was slung securely across her body and set off again, feeling the dirt and grit squelching between her sore toes and yelping as some of the sharper stones dug into the soles of her feet. Her dress was plastered to her body, the skirt catching between her legs making it difficult to weave around the largest of the rapidly filling potholes, let alone run.

"Hey!"

She looked up to see Matt standing about a hundred yards ahead, holding aloft Charlie's huge green and white golfing umbrella. "Go back in!" she yelled, waving at him frantically. "It's not like I can't get any wetter now anyway!" But Matt simply stared at her as if he hadn't heard. As though he could hardly believe his eyes...

Mattcouldn't believe his eyes. Her saturated dress, now fused to her body like a second skin, had become startlingly transparent. He could see the swell of her full breasts... the tapered outline of her waist... the flare of her hips... Dear Lord, she's beautiful, he thought, entranced by the vision of womanhood before him.

"For heaven's sake, I'm coming!" Melissa bellowed, oblivious to his admiration, agitated he hadn't moved. "Please! Go back inside!" She swore again, trying to force her legs to move more quickly. "Matt! Please! Go in! I'll be there in a—oooarrgghh!"

"Lissy!"

She heard Matt's shout as she hit the ground, every bit of air slammed out of her by the impact. But before pain could set in, before she could even recover enough breath to cry out, strong hands had seized her beneath her armpits and were roughly hauling her backwards to her feet. Twisting her. Lifting her high into the air. Turning her upside down...

"Matt!" she screamed, realising she'd been slung over his shoulder in a perfect execution of a fireman's lift and that he was already jogging back up the drive. "Put me down!Put me down!"

He ignored her, moving effortlessly as if running up a dirt track in the pouring rain with a damsel in distress across his shoulder was for him an everyday occurrence. Reaching the bungalow, he bore her through the open front door and kicked it shut before slowly lowering her down. Disorientated, she staggered against him then slithered to the chequered linoleum floor, gasping from combined shock, pain and hurt pride. "You—you—pig!"

"No need to thank me." Matt stepped around her and went to try a light switch. It was dead. "Hmm. Could be a bulb, I s'pose." He walked down the semi-darkened hallway opening the doors into the bedrooms, the living room and the bathroom fruitlessly flipping switches as he went. Then he came back towards her, plucked up the telephone receiver from the small table by the front door and held it to his ear.

She dragged in a breath. "Don't tell me. No electricity, no phone."

Matt sighed, replacing the handset. "You're a glass half-empty sort of girl, aren't you?"

"Tell me I'm wrong."

"Okay." He squatted beside her, picking up her grazed and muddied hands and inspecting them solemnly. "You're wrong." She swore and he rolled his eyes. "I thought you said you didn't know what any of that meant."

"I don't—arrgh!" She yelped as he slid his arms around her waist and lifted her to her feet. "Ow! What the hell are you doing now?"

Matt's eyes swept from her face to the front of her dress. "Lissy, you need to get cleaned up. You're wet, you're filthy and, er—" He appeared to be struggling to keep a straight face. "It's pretty obvious you're cold."

She took a glance downwards, for the first time registering that not only was the dress awash with liquid dirt but that the material was clinging to each and every curve of her body. Every curve. Her nipples stood out like buttons. "Stop it!" she gulped. "Stop looking!"

Grinning openly now, Matt theatrically averted his gaze, tucked an arm around her and began to steer her down the hallway towards the bathroom. "Where are your shoes?"

She groaned. "I must've dropped them when I fell. They aren't even mine. They're Gemma's. She's going to kill me." Either that or she was going to kill Gemma...

"You seem to have lost your cardigan too," Matt observed, almost casually. "So what happened? You went down like a ton of bricks. Did your foot go down a pothole?"

"I don't know." She had to bite down hard on her lower lip in an effort to hold back tears. Her knees were stinging and her right hip ached. "I could see you were waiting for me so I tried to go a bit faster. And then I fell."

"Are you trying to blame this on me?"

"No.Yes." A tear escaped and trickled down her face. Damn. She really didn't want him to see her crying again. "You shouldn't have come back for me. Wh-why did you come back for me?"

When he twisted her around to face him, she noticed for the first time that the left side of his shirt was caked with mud from shoulder to waist from where he'd carried her. And to her astonishment, he lifted his hand and gently brushed the tear away from her cheek with the tips of his fingers. "Because you called me Matt."

Their eyes met for a heartbeat. Then he pushed her into the bathroom and closed the door. "Get cleaned up," she heard him say. "I'll see if I can find you something to wear."

*

Thanks for reading. All votes and comments gratefully received.

Lily

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