Molly and MebyDenham_Forrest©
Molly and Me
By Denham Forrest, The Wanderer
This very short tale about nothing, is dedicated to friend good friend of mine, I'm sure he'll know who he is. We all wish you the best my friend and hope to see you writing again very soon. But just a little hint before anyone gets out of his/her pram. This is another of those stories where the reader has to be careful not to prejudge anything.
My thanks go to Angelina, PapaGus and Deryk for their assistance in preparing this story for posting. But I have had to make a couple of minor changes at the last minute.
There I was, wandering around the hotel's public rooms, somewhat furtively asking people I vaguely remembered meeting in the previous few days if they'd seen my wife Molly, and at the same time trying not to make it too obvious that I'd completely lost track of her.
I'll be honest with you, I was getting more than a little worried; I'd last seen Molly about three hours previously and she'd been in conversation with the very disreputable Gordon Hamster.
Hamster wasn't exactly a Casanova, but word had it that he had an eye for the ladies on the quiet. He was good looking and reputedly he could be hazardous to connubial bliss. Mind you, rumour had it that he rarely -- if ever -- got the chance to indulge himself, because usually wherever Gordon Hamster went, his rather beautiful, somewhat possessive -- or possibly distrusting -- and very jealous wife, Katrina, was to be found not very far away. I should imagine you get the general idea.
However, I, and everyone else who had been in residence at the hotel that week, was well aware that Katrina had had a pretty serious accident while water-skiing a day or so previously. By all accounts she was stretched out on a bed in traction at the local hospital. That kind of changed the status quo, by my reckoning.
When I had last seen Molly, she had been sitting up at a bar in one of the hotel's lounges. I'd had to leave her for a few minutes to make a quick telephone call to check in with the boss. Hamster had entered the lounge just as I was leaving and I'd lingered for a few moments, just long enough to watch him spot, and then make a bee-line for Molly.
I had wondered whether I should return to the bar myself, but I figured that Molly is a big girl, and that she could look after herself. Lets face it, she wouldn't be in the business we're in, if she couldn't handle a sleaze like Hamster, would she? Well I believe that was how my mind worked at the time. And well, I was a little late calling in to the office anyway and theoretically it would only take me a few minutes. And lastly, I was damned sure that Molly would get thoroughly pissed-off with me if she thought I was playing the part of the jealous husband, if you understand me.
As it turned out, things had been moving along at a hell of a pace back at the office. Not only did my boss fill me in on numerous changes that had taken place in the previous twenty-four hours, but a couple of my colleagues had things they wanted to clarify with me as well. Consequently I was tied up on the telephone for nigh on fifteen, maybe even as long as twenty minutes.
When I eventually arrived back in the lounge, to my dismay there was no sign of either Molly or Hamster. Keeping my cool as much as I could, and pretending to myself that I was not panicking, I went over to the bar and got myself a stiff drink. Then as subtly as I could, I enquired of the barman if he'd seen where Molly had gone, and with whom, if anyone.
Whether he'd been slipped a few bob by Hamster -- or he was expecting the prick would prove to be generous later -- the barman informed me that he been busy and hadn't noticed that Molly had left the bar until after she'd gone. When I tried to enquire about Hamster, the barman made out that he had no idea who the guy was. It was all very unconvincing, as far as I was concerned anyway.
I then did the rounds as rapidly as I could. Not one of the guys out the front remembered seeing Molly leave, and the same went for the people round the pool and out in the hotel grounds. That left the hotel's gym, public rooms and bars- and, of course, our own, Molly and my, suite or, most disconcertingly from my perspective, Hamster's own suite.
My main problem was that it was such a damned great big hotel and there were so many damned public areas. And numerous different ways of getting between any of them; consequently, if Molly were moving around, then I could easily miss her and Hamster practically anywhere, as I went from one public area to another myself.
After another twenty minutes of frantic searching -- actually meandering around and trying not to make it look obvious that I was searching for the missing Molly -- eventually I went up to the reception desk and asked the guy there if he'd happened to notice my wife heading towards our room.
"Mr. Burns, yes, I think I have seen your wife," the slimy bugger smiled at me, "I do believe it was Mrs. Burns I saw going up to the rooftop lounge with Monsieur Hamster, about half an hour ago. They were most likely going to take a walk around the upper terrace. One gets a very good view of our beautiful sunset from up there."
"Yeah, and you're half-way to the effing bedrooms, and no bugger's going to notice you getting into the lift from up there, either!" I almost added. But I just thought it instead.
Shit, over the years he'd worked at that hotel, that slimy little wanker had probably seen hundreds of couples heading up to that mezzanine level, and I'll bet he knew exactly where they were going to end up.
Still, trying to act as naturally and calmly as I could, I strolled across the hotel foyer and made my own way up onto the mezzanine level myself and from there I went on out onto the roof terrace.
"You bloody bitch, Molly, how could you do this to me?" I'd found myself saying out loud as I tried not to rush up the stairs. Luckily, there was nobody close enough to hear me.
After I'd taken a turn around the roof garden to convince myself that Molly was not out there, I then took the lift up to the sixth floor and made sure that Molly wasn't in our suite.
I'll be honest with you, I almost picked up the telephone to call for official reinforcements in my search, but I chickened out. Molly had not been missing for very long and she would certainly chew my balls off about it anyway.
I found myself straining to look over the balcony rail. God alone knows what I thought I was going to achieve. Maybe, I thought I might chance to hear Molly calling for help, or something from Hamster's suite, which was directly below ours.
I heard nothing!
You know, for an instant I thought about climbing down to the balcony of Hamster's suite, but I feared that at that time of the evening, someone might see me and take me for a sneak thief. That would have put the cat amongst the pigeons.
Besides assuming that they were in there, Hamster would hear me climbing down and I would not be in the best position to defend myself.
So after pacing the room for what seemed like eternity, I'd gone back downstairs and began touring the hotel's public spaces again. And that's where I was, when I caught sight of a grinning Molly, all but skipping out of one of the lifts.
Furious, I took her by the arm and manhandled her back into the lift she'd just exited.
"Where the fuck have you been?" I demanded, once the lift doors had closed.
"You said it, hubby. I've been getting my arse screwed off, by the world's most wonderful lover!" she grinned back at me.
"For fuck's sake, Molly. Everyone in that damned lounge must have seen you go off with Hamster. That supercilious frog out on reception..."
"André is not French, Jim, he's Swiss!"
"Trust you to know that. Anyway, the stuck up little shit knew where you two were headed anyway. Have you any idea how that makes me look in everyone's eyes?"
"Ah, diddums! Is my loving husband all upset because someone might think he's a cuckold?"
"Molly, leave it out, will you. You just didn't have to make it so bloody obvious. What the fuck was wrong with letting me know where you going anyway?"
"It was a spur of the moment thing sweetheart..."
At that instant the lift doors slid open on our floor and Molly stopped speaking just in case anyone overheard her. She didn't speak again until I'd closed the door to our suite.
"Well?" I demanded.
"Well, you went off to phone the boss and bugger me if Glamour Pants himself don't plonk his arse on the stool right next to me, almost the instant you'd gone."
"Yeah, I saw the bugger enter the lounge."
"And you didn't come running back to protect my virtue? How sweet of you, lover!"
"Molly, I'll bloody swing for you one of these days. Get on with it?"
"Ooh tetchy this evening, aren't we? Well anyway, then he starts giving me his line of shit!"
Molly picked up the bottle of scotch we had on the side table and poured herself a stiff one.
"Want one?" she asked, grinning at me.
"No, thanks. And?"
"Ah well, I thought I'd give it a whirl. Long time since I got picked up in a hotel bar."
"You could have fooled me!"
"Ooh, nasty. Has hubby got the hump? Shall Molly-kins make him feel better?"
"Molly, I'll put you over my bloody knee and tan your bleeding arse for you in a minute. Now what happened?"
"Oh, he took the bait and the next thing you know we're on our way up to his room."
"I kinda gathered that. I've spent most of the bloody afternoon searching this fucking hotel for you."
"Molly, I swear..."
"Alright, alright, don't get your knickers in a twist. He shagged me... five times!"
"Five times? Holy shit!"
"Oh, yeah, he was Mr. Wonderful in bed. The best lover I've ever had in my life. He gave me so many orgasms and I was begging him to give me more."
"Molly!" I said angrily.
"Hey, look, handsome, I was all prepared. I told the bugger that we couldn't do it without protection for obvious reasons. Well I told him I wouldn't like to catch anything and bring it back to my loving husband," Molly giggled again and I raised my hand as if threatening to strike her, "and well, I said that I couldn't afford to end up preggers either. But the sod pulled a packet of three out of his bloody briefcase, although, that did have its advantages later."
"Yeah, but I'll get to that in a minute. Well, after the crafty sod produced that packet of three that kinda stumped me for a minute. But then I thought... well I hadn't had much lately; I might as well have a little fun while I was at it.
"Molly, fun is one thing, but five bloody times?"
"Well, we had to use those buggers up, didn't we; and then I had to persuade Hamster that he was so good at it, and that I needed him so badly, that he just had to go find some more somewhere, didn't I?"
"Molly, you say that one more time and I'll..."
"Alright, alright, keep your bloody hair on! Hey look, don't think it was easy for me, he's fucking useless in bed. Typical of the type, he thinks he's God's gift to every female on the planet. I'm not kidding, I had to do some bloody good acting and use every trick in the book to get the bugger back up again after the second time."
"So, why did you let him screw you five times?"
"Well I needed him to go and get some more condoms, didn't I? Then, while he was gone, I searched his room. It saved you having to climb down to his room later. I never was keen on that idea. And him leaving his briefcase unlocked, well that was really opportune. Oh, you'd better warn the boss, Hamster carries two hand guns. He's got a Ruger and a Glock in that damned briefcase of his. We don't want him shooting up any Froggy cops when they pick him up tomorrow!"
"What makes you think they'll grab him tomorrow?"
"Stands to reason, they'll want to nick him and whoever he meets with when they make the switch. They're meeting on the Paris train tomorrow morning. From what I gathered they are going to meet in the dinning car or buffet car at ten o'clock sharp."
"How the fuck do you know that?"
"Hamster's a fucking idiot. You know I think the Yanks are on the wrong trip. It must be Katrina who has all the brains in that outfit. Hamster received a phone call, I was playing the 'sex-mad, dumb blond' and the plonker didn't realise that with the stupid code he was using, a bloody two year old could have worked out what he was saying. Anyway he'll have those papers, or whatever, with him and exchange them with whoever he meets on the train."
"That will be a couple of North Korean guys. The boys have been watching one of Hamster's contacts and he met a couple of guys in Paris yesterday. They told me earlier that the Koreans' are booked onto a south bound train this evening and they must be heading back to Paris tomorrow morning."
"Have they any idea what the Koreans are buying from him?"
"Actually the boys suspect that it could be either way around. It could be that whatever they are exchanging doesn't include cash, information useful to each other or something very portable anyway. The Froggies will have to sort that one out. Maybe the Yanks really do know, but they aren't telling. He's one of theirs anyway and they started the ball rolling on this thing. But Jesus, Molly, five times?"
"Oh, come on. I had to do him three times to use his bloody johnnies up. And then I had to do him again a couple of times, to ensure that he didn't realise I'd only conned him into getting some more, just so that I could search his gear while he was gone," she giggled again. "Hey, I nearly killed him. He thinks he picked up a bloody nymphomaniac. And guess what? He got a real kick out of screwing a married woman to start with. But before I left he was wondering how come you're still alive."
"Oh thanks! That's all I need, you do realise that I've got to face everybody in the dining room over breakfast tomorrow; and a good proportion of them are going to know that Hamster has been shagging your arse off all afternoon."
"Oh, and poor little hubby doesn't like the idea that everyone will think he's a cuckold?" Molly giggled again.
"Cut it out, Molly!"
"Oh, come, Jim, can't you take a joke?"
"Molly, no wonder you don't keep your partners very long; if you take the piss out of them like this. I was really worried about you this afternoon, you know?"
"Worried about what the boss would say if you had to tell him you'd lost me, you mean!"
"No, be serious, Molly. Some of these marks can be dangerous. What if Hamster had twigged what you were up to? He could have killed you or something."
"And that would worry you? Give over, Jim! Oh, you'd be embarrassed for a while that your partner had got herself killed on you. But hey, that's what the job's all about isn't it. I wouldn't be the first partner you've lost on an assignment."
"They were all male, Molly. And besides..."
"Besides what, Jim?"
"No, besides what, Jim?"
"Oh, bugger, I've got kind-of attached to you in the last few months and I wouldn't like to see you get hurt. That's all!"
"How attached, Jim?"
"Just attached, that's all."
"Jim, I take the piss, as you term it, out of my partners to keep things... you know, light hearted; so nothing kinda serious happens between us. But if it where my real husband... Yeah, well, are you attached enough to want off the hazardous assignment roster?"
"What a strange question!"
"Well, you know that the department won't allow married operatives or even people who are emotionally involved with each other, on the H list."
I looked across at Molly and she had an unusually serious (for her) expression on her face.
"You know it would mean a drop in pay?" I told her, "We wouldn't get our danger money any more either."
"Yeah but, two can live almost as cheaply as one and we should both have a good stash tucked away by now. How long have you been on the H list?"
"Seven years; since my wife ditched me."
"Silly bitch, who did she ditch you for?"
"Some captain of industry. She married the silly arse; still that saved me a bunch in alimony."
"My old man was knocking off his secretary and got the little bitch preggers. It was either ditch me and marry her, or fork out for maintenance on the kid. I drew the short straw. Well rather, I told him I'd cut his balls off if he tried to get back into the house."
"Knowing you, you'd do it as well!"
"I chased the bugger out of the house with a stun gun in one hand and a carving knife in the other."
"Holy shit, you're lucky he never called the police."
"He tried to, but the department needed a female operative in the field, if you know what I mean. One phone call from up-stairs and all the files vanished."
"Christ, remind me never to upset you?"
"Hey , lover. Once we're married, all you got to do is keep it in your pants. You do that and I'll promise to keep my legs crossed."
"Molly, we're in the middle of a very important case, have we just decided to get married?"
"I think so. Sounds like the best idea you've come up with since we've been working together, anyway.
"Good. For one horrible moment there I thought I was losing it completely."
"Okay, then, you'd better call the boss and fill him in on Hamster's plans for tomorrow. And then you'd better ask him to pull both of our names off the H list tonight."
"Tonight? He'll go bonkers!"
"Well it's either that or we're both going to be on report tomorrow. I have it on good authority that you're shit hot in the sack."
"Yeah, Sandra in logistics. She's enjoyed rubbing my nose in it because you are allowed to shag her and not me."
"Company policy, Molly."
"Yeah, but you don't have to be such a stickler for the rules, Jim. You just call the boss, give him the low down on Hamster and I'll go get all cleaned up in the shower. Then when he's removed our names from the bloody H list, we'll see what Sandra keeps raving about. Perhaps, I'll get my first decent shag of the day!"
I picked up the telephone and called the office again.
Life goes on.