Not So Trivial Pursuit

Cheryl sat back in her chair, brushed an errant strand of jet-black hair from her eyes and blew out heavily. She was musing to herself, "Bam! Thud! Spattered in runny clay."

She twizzled her gold pen between forefinger and thumb whilst her other hand toyed with her French plaited hair and murmured once more, "Bam! Thud! Spattered in runny clay, 3, 4."

Inspiration! She clapped a hand to her forehead and said, "Of course!" before writing the words 'mud bath' into the crossword grid. She was making a start on the next clue when a polite cough interrupted her chain of thought. Cheryl looked up and saw Thomas Baker, a new addition to the company.

"Yes, Thomas?" she asked.

"Do you mind if I sit here?"

"No, not at all. Please."

He placed his tray on the table and sat down beside her and began to eat his lunch. His eye wandered round the crowded canteen and he muttered, "Busy today."

Cheryl sighed to herself and answered, "Yes." She hoped that she had managed to inject just enough polite disinterest in her voice so that he would take the hint and leave her to her crossword. However, this was not to be. Thomas glanced at where she was fiddling with her pen and studying the next clue.

"The Times cryptic," he said, "I'm impressed. I have trouble with the easy one in the Sun."

She sighed again, nodded briefly and continued with the puzzle.

"Please," she thought to herself, "please get the message."

But it appeared that this was also not to be. Thomas looked over her arm at the crossword and read out loud, "Murines! The civic German is working at home in England. 4, 4. What on Earth is that supposed to mean?"

Defeated, Cheryl decided to humour him, it was obvious that he wanted to start a conversation. "Well," she said, "this one's quite easy."

He stared blankly at the crossword and replied, "Oh. Is it?"

"Yes. Look, murines. That means mice or rats. Bovine is cow, canine is dog, murine is mouse or rat."

"So the first word is rat or mouse... no wait, can't be, it's four letters."

Cheryl smiled, "Well we haven't finished yet. Civic German working at home. So think about it. Home in German is haus... well nearly, anyway. Civic, what could that be about? What about rat haus? That's the German equivalent of one of our civic buildings."

Thomas's lips moved silently for a moment before he said, "Town Hall!"

She regarded his look of triumph, "Well done."

Thomas grinned at her, "I'd like to thank all those who worked in the background to make this the astonishing success that it was." He took her hand and kissed it. Cheryl found herself shivering slightly at the touch of his lips, before gently pulling her hand free. She could also feel her cheeks reddening slightly.

He seemed to sense her discomfort and said, "I'm sorry. I didn't mean to embarrass you."

"Oh don't be silly, it was just a laugh."

Thomas held her eye for a long moment, his face unreadable until he broke out into his now familiar grin and said, "So what else?"

"Sorry?"

"Games. What other games do you play?"

Cheryl was a little taken aback by the question, it could after all be taken two ways.

"What exactly do you mean?"

Thomas ignored the slight edge to her voice and replied, "Well, you like crosswords. What other games? Cards? Puzzles? Chess? I love to play chess, myself."

"Oh... Oh, sorry. Erm, well I've never actually played chess. I do like logical problems though and the old lateral thinking."

He said with some surprise, "You can't play chess? And I thought you were civilised! I will have to teach you. I'll bring in my set tomorrow and we can play during the break, what do you think?"

"I don't know..."

"Oh go on, it'll be fun. You never know, you might even enjoy it."

In spite of herself, Cheryl was infected by his good humour, "Okay, why not."

That night, Cheryl let herself into her small flat. She flicked on the living room light before flopping onto the settee and kicked off her shoes. She pulled her foot into her lap and started massaging her toes. A few seconds rubbing then she transferred her attention to her other foot, "Oh, that's better."

She sat a moment and then wandered into the kitchen to make a cup of tea. Whilst she waited for the kettle to boil, her thoughts drifted back to the lunchtime conversation with Thomas. He seemed a pleasant enough man and she had to admit that he had a certain charm about him. He wasn't what you might call handsome, but there was something about him that she found attractive. Not that she intended to do anything about it of course. At thirty-four years old, single and working at a very successful career, she was far too set in her ways to think about a man. Besides, she had been hurt before.

Cheryl thought about the only man she had been involved with. They had been due to be married, he had respected her wish to remain a virgin until her wedding night, or at least she thought he did. Three days before the ceremony, she had paid an unexpected visit to his house and found him in bed with one of her friends.

A tear still burned her cheek every time she thought about that night. The argument, the thrown crockery, shouting, tears, recriminations. The words that were said and could never be unsaid. "A cold, frigid robot." That's what he had called her. She remembered how he had tried to turn the situation around so that she was the one at fault instead of him, "A man has needs. If you understood that, then this wouldn't have happened."

That had hurt. He had never really respected her wish to remain a virgin until the nuptials. He hadn't respected her, not really, otherwise why would she find him in bed with another woman just a few days before the wedding and then try to hold her responsible for his own inadequacies.

They broke up.

She could still remember the humiliation she went through cancelling the wedding, telling all her friends what had happened, and worst of all, telling her parents. Her father had been supportive enough, but her mother. God! Her mother had loved it. She had never liked him and told Cheryl so on many occasions. She had tried to keep the triumph out of her voice when her suspicions were brought to light, but she couldn't, not quite.

The kettle boiled and Cheryl poured it into her mug over the teabag-for-one on the string. Whilst she waited for the infusion to form she stared blankly at the swirling pattern of the brown fluid mingling slowly with the clear water.

"Two become one," she thought bitterly, "Yeah! Right!"

So here she was, thirty-four, single, living in a small flat on her own. She had never gotten over his betrayal and had thrown herself into her work with vigour. She used to think she was happy, better off without anyone in her life. She had been on the occasional date that was true, but they never came to anything. As soon as the man she was with got a little too close, a little too personal then she would freeze. She didn't want to, but it was beyond her control. Either that or they disappeared over the horizon when they discovered that she was not an easy proposition. So now, she didn't bother. She just resigned herself to a lifetime of solitude and buried herself in her career.

But her feelings were changing, she no longer felt so secure in her decision to remain a virgin until married. She was a healthy woman with all the drives and needs associated with it. She was finding herself more and more often daydreaming about the various men in the office and what she could be doing with them. Nothing was stopping her except one thing, her own inhibitions, her own inability to just let go. She had been so badly hurt in the past and all the men she had dated turned out to be feckless and shallow.

She also knew that the men in her professional life and her social life (such as it was) saw her as unapproachable. She had even accidentally overheard herself described as 'The Ice Maiden' over the coffee machine.

That had hurt more than she thought imaginable. She knew she kept everyone distant, but it still hurt. The two men involved had the decency to be embarrassed when they realised that she had heard them discussing her, but her own pride kept her from any display at all of how much it had stung.

Then her thoughts returned to Thomas. He was about twenty-four or twenty-five, average height and stocky build. Dark hair, not as dark as her own ebony locks, but a deep velvety brown with eyes to match. She liked his eyes. Dark yes, but not brooding and piercing as all the slushy romance novels would have you believe such eyes should be. No, they sparkled. It was like he had just told himself a joke, a joke to which no one else was party.

She wondered briefly if he was interested in her before deriding herself, "Idiot woman! You've got ten years on him as well as your reputation. No, he just wants to play chess. After all, what else could he want?"

Lunchtime the next day saw Cheryl walk into the canteen. Thomas stood up at the far table and waved her across. On the table in front of him was a small magnetic chessboard, with all the pieces set up and ready to play.

"Hi," he grinned, "Ready for your first lesson?"

Cheryl smiled back politely and answered, "Yes."

They sat down and Thomas ran through the basic rules and explained how each of the pieces moved. Once Cheryl agreed that she understood the rudiments, they started to play.

Thomas went first, made a move and said, "King pawn to King 3."

"Sorry?"

"Oh, that's the move I just made. Look, see how it works. Each of the squares is named for the main piece of the column and each row is numbered. So I take this pawn," he said pointing to the pawn in front of the white king," and move it forward one from row two to row three. So it's King pawn to King 3. Okay?"

Cheryl was a little confused, "Erm... sorry, no."

"Never mind, perhaps I went a bit fast with this bit. There is an easier method. If you just allocate the squares a column and row by the numbers and letters around the outside, then you just reference the square by the letter number coordinate, then you don't need to remember the classical notation. So I'll make the same move and just say E2-E3. Is that better for you?"

"Oh yes. Much better, thanks."

"Okay then. Your turn."

Cheryl studied the board for a moment and then made her move. She placed a pawn from in front of one of her castles, or rooks as Thomas had called them and said, "Erm, H7-H5."

Thomas immediately moved his bishop and countered with, "F1-C4."

Intrigued, but still none the wiser as to what he was up to, Cheryl decided to move her rook forward. It was, as she understood it, one of the most powerful pieces on the board so she thought it best to bring it out early.

"H8-H6."

Again, there was no hesitation from Thomas as he brought his queen from the back line diagonally, "D1-F3"

What was he up to? She could see his queen was directly attacking her open pawn, but he couldn't take it when it was protected by her rook. Unsure, she decided to move a pawn forward to attack his exposed bishop.

"B7-B5."

Thomas grinned and moving his queen to a square at her end of the board, took one of her pawns and put his queen in its place, "F3-F7. Checkmate."

"What! Already?"

Cheryl looked at the board in dismay. No, there it was. He had sent his queen straight into the heart of her defences and had won the game in four moves. She was a little disappointed that he had beaten her so easily.

"Oh," she said.

Thomas could resist a chuckle, "I'm sorry, that was a bit mean. Another game? You can go first this time."

She smiled back at him, "Why not," she replied. And they set the board up for another game.

The second game lasted longer than the first, although the outcome was inevitable, Cheryl was quite pleased that she had managed not to fall into the traps he laid. And she also made sure that he didn't get her with that four move abomination this time round. But still ten minutes later she heard the inevitable words, "Checkmate. You know, you are quite good at this. I wish I'd been able to pick it up as fast as you did. One more"

She glanced at her watch, "Actually, I'd better get back to work."

Thomas made a theatrical sigh, "Ah well. It's a shame, I was just getting into it. Another game tomorrow?"

Cheryl thought for a moment and then replied, "Yes. That would be lovely."

+++++++++++++++++++++++++++

It was Friday and they had just finished their game. Thomas had won, of course. Whilst he was packing the board away he said, "You know, there's never enough time to get a decent game going at lunchtime. Dunno about you, but I find it difficult to concentrate in here."

Cheryl grinned, "I know what you mean. I keep thinking about the time when I should be concentrating on the board."

Thomas's eyes widened slightly as a thought struck him, "Hey! I know, why don't you come round to my place tonight. We could have a decent game."

Immediately, Cheryl backed away, "Erm... No I don't think that would be a good idea."

Thomas blushed and said, "Oh... Sorry. I didn't mean to embarrass you. I just thought, you know, it might be nice to have a game in peace and quiet."

Inside, Cheryl was scolding herself, Idiot, idiot, idiot! What are you doing? The first man to show any interest in you for God knows how long and you just cut him off like that! All he wants is a game of chess. Yeah, right! Just what are you so scared of, idiot? I know what he's after. Just like the rest of them. And when it all goes wrong, who picks up the pieces? Muggins, that's who. Men! More trouble than they're worth. Really? Yes! Really! Maybe he's different. I mean has he given you any inclination that he sees at you as a conquest? Well... Seeing as how you put it like that... No, he hasn't, we just play chess. So what makes you think that he wants anything more from you? More than you are prepared to give I mean? Nothing. So say yes, you bloody idiot.

Cheryl came to her decision. She looked up at Thomas where he stood uncertainly. "Actually, I think it would be quite nice. Why not? What time shall I come over?"

He grinned broadly, "Great! Seven thirty?"

"Fine."

"See you then."

Thomas started to walk away when Cheryl called out, "Actually, there is one minor problem."

He stopped and frowned slightly, turning back to her he asked, "What?"

It was Cheryl's turn to grin, "I don't know where you live."

Six o'clock found Cheryl stood in front of her bedroom mirror, holding dress after dress in front of herself. Each one was discarded as either to dressy, too tarty or too formal. She finally settled on a peasant skirt and simple white blouse. Before she put them on, she regarded her body in the mirror. Full, heavy breasts encased in a white cotton bra. Not particularly sexy, but that was not why she bought it. With large breasts like hers, she needed plenty of support. Her eye went down her reflection past her waist, a little thicker that she might like, to her broad, rounded hips. She was wearing panties that matched her bra. She let her gaze travel further down along the length of her legs. Shapely like the rest of her, through hard work in the gymnasium.

"Not bad," she nodded to herself, "What are you thinking? You're going for a games evening not a date! But what if... Yes? What if he tries something? Well what if he does, he's just like all the rest and you'll be disappointed... Again! Yes, exactly, and then he'll be another voice over the coffee machine. Do you like him? Well do you? No, not like that... Yes... I don't know. But if he does try something, what do I do? Well, you won't know either way unless you go there and find out, will you?"

Seven thirty found Cheryl knocking on the door of a semi-detached house in her own area of the town, she had been surprised that he lived so close to her, only five minutes walk away, in fact.

He opened the door and said, "Hi, come in. The wine is chilling and the board's set up."

He accepted her coat and hung it on a peg behind the front door, before leading her through to the living room. It was a well appointed room with a plush sofa and matching armchair. The chair had been moved around and a card table had been set up with an ornately carved chessboard and pieces.

"Wow," she said admiring the set, "looks much to posh to play with."

Thomas laughed and replied, "It was a present. I wouldn't have bought it myself. Drink?"

"You said you had wine chilling?"

"Yes, white or I have a bottle of red if you prefer."

"No, white's fine thank you."

Thomas poured two glasses and then invited Cheryl to sit in the chair before taking his seat on the sofa. He generously allowed Cheryl to play white and therefore have the first move. She didn't bother studying the board and quickly made her first move, "F2-F3"

He grinned, "I see I won't be able to four-move you again." Cheryl said nothing but took a sip of her wine and waited for Thomas to make his own move.

After five minutes or so, of silent play Thomas said, "This is fun. I love playing chess, but I don't get to do it as much as I'd like."

Cheryl was forced to agree. It was fun and she was also beginning to settle down, it appeared that Thomas really did only want to play chess. Though for some unexplainable reason she felt a little deflated as well. She regarded him as he concentrated on the board. He had a habit of sticking the tip of his tongue from the corner of his mouth when he concentrated, she thought it was quite sweet, it made him look even younger.

He moved his rook and said, "C5-D5 Check."

Cheryl's thoughts immediately returned to the game. She was quite startled, "Where did that come from?" she thought to herself. She examined the board and then sighed. He had her. Damn! Her bishop that could have taken his rook was pinned, if she moved it then she would be in check from his queen. Her only option was to spring a desperate attack with a loose pawn that she had kept at her end of the board, but she knew it was too late, "C2-C4."

Thomas moved his queen and took the bishop, "H3-F3. Check and..." he looked directly into her eyes, "Mate."

His stare made her feel a little uncomfortable and she squirmed slightly in her seat. Then his grin returned and he said, "Fancy another game, or do you want to play something else?"

The way he said set alarm bells off in her head, "What do you mean?" she asked suspiciously.

"Well, there are other games. I know you like word games... What about scrabble?"

"Oh! Oh no, I'm fine playing chess for now."

She could feel herself reddening as she spoke, embarrassed that she had read more into his question than was actually there. As she looked at him, his grin disappeared, he asked, "What's the matter?"

"Nothing."

"Yes there is. Have I said something to upset you?"

"No!" Too sharp. She took a deep breath and continued, "No, honestly. I colour up sometimes, that's all."

Thomas didn't seem convinced, his expression remained sceptical as he leaned back on the sofa and said, "Tell you what. Let's have a break and just chat for a while." He looked at her glass, "Refill?"

Cheryl cursed herself inwardly at her display, but managed to whisper, "Yes please."

After he topped up their glasses, Thomas took a sip and leaned back expansively, his eyes never leaving hers.

"You know," he said, "I'm surprised that a woman like you would be here tonight."

"What do you mean?"

"Well look at you. Beautiful, intelligent, well off, with a place of your own. I'm wondering why no one snapped you up ages ago. But here you are, sitting in my little house playing chess on a Friday night."

Cheryl found herself unable to break the stare, his eyes, once sparkly now seemed darker and his expression was unreadable. She was beginning to feel uncomfortable again. She said nothing so he continued, "Why are you here Cheryl?"