Charlie's Story

Charlie looked at her with genuine pleasure. "It was nice of you to try."

"Well," she said, "it isn't too far from work so I can call in on my way home, if you'd like. And if you are bothered," she continued, "the match was declared a draw. Is there anything I can bring you next time?"

Charlie felt round his face and rubbed the stubble. "Yes please," he said. "I could do with a decent razor and shaving kit, as well as the usual soap and stuff. There's nothing like presenting the best face you can to visitors." His smile was curtailed by pain.

Lois nodded. "OK," she said. "I'll bring it all round tomorrow. Anything else? I mean, how long are you going to be here?"

Charlie thought for a moment, and said: "Well, it's likely to be a few more days yet at least, or so the Quack tells me. Much longer and I'm likely to find a vanishing degree of sympathy at work, after all the help they've given me. I really should try and do something as soon as I'm able. I can do some work from home, but the typing is likely to be a lot slower, what with only one hand at present. 'Fraid my bowling is over for the season. If you see Baz, you might tell him and thank him for the card."

Lois said: "I'll do that. Can I call work for you? Have you any sick-leave or even holiday time which you can take by way of convalescence?"

Charlie looked at her with an expression of gratitude. "Yes please," he said. "Tell them I'll be in as soon as I can. I'll have to send them a sick note. I fear I may have to tread carefully about sick-leave, after the time off that they've given me already."

After more general talk, he looked tired so she took her leave, promising to call back the following evening.

Thursday:

Charlie awoke feeling refreshed and noted that the bruises did not hurt quite so much. He reckoned that this would last until the first of his physiotherapy sessions, but the ability to shave and present a better face to the world in general and Lois in particular did much for his self confidence. His back hurt when he tried to bend forward, but the agony was lessened by the pills.

His hand was still in a splint but the shoulder now only hurt when the physio dug in hard or he tried to move in an unaccustomed way. He was put on some exercises which did much to raise a sweat. This presented him with the problem of taking a shower, solved by a polythene bag over his hand. A "Get Well" card and letter from work assured him that all was well and he should take whatever time he needed to recuperate before getting back to work.

Lois called in most nights and the loan of a portable computer provided him with an added intellectual stimulus once he got used to the small keys and typing with one hand and the occasional finger. She arrived one Sunday dressed in a smart pair of jeans and a shirt, carrying a sports bag. She still looked good, thought Charlie, even with no make-up.

"When do you get out, and when are you expected back at work; no, I'll re-phrase that. When do the medics tell you that you can go back?," said Lois with a smile.

"A few days to get out, provided that there are no hiccups, which means Friday next," came the reply. "After that," he continued, "there'll be more exercise and physio, but I'll have a word with Baz about that unless they organise something from here."

"Would you like me to help you out a bit at your place until you get your hand back in shape?," said Lois. "You know, run a Hoover round or maybe the odd meal?"

"Yes, please." He said as he fumbled through his wallet and passed her an old business card.

She looked at the card and said "I remember ordering these; I'm glad you still have them," and put the card away in her bag.

"Well, they ain't a great deal of use these days, but they still serve as a reminder and are sometimes of some use," he said ruefully; then smiled.

Friday

He stood rather shakily at the entrance of the Hospital waiting for the bus. The air smelt good after the rain. He made it without actually falling over and walked slowly home from the bus stop, using a borrowed walking stick but fumbling for his keys and cursing his still-bandaged hand. The door was nearly jammed with mail but he managed to open it without too many problems and walked in. He noticed the dust first, and felt a little shame that he'd not kept it tidier. Whilst the kettle boiled, he filled the washing machine and switched it on, found something edible in the freezer and put it in the microwave oven. Then he opened the windows.

After eating his meal, he sorted his letters, checked the telephone and found several messages from workmates and one from Lois, who announced her intention of coming over. It was only when he'd sat down on the sofa with a cup of tea that he realised how tired he was. He woke up with a start and wondered at first where he was. It was evening and the shadows were lengthening. He pottered about a bit with the washing up and watched the news on TV. Then the doorbell rang.

It was Lois who brought with her a bottle of wine and some bags of food. "I thought you could use a non-hospital meal," she said, smiling. "I hope you like Chinese." He ushered her in and apologised for the mess. Over the meal, he told her what the Hospital had said.

"It will be a while before all the splints and bandages come off," he said, "and I'll need physio and exercise before I can use my hand properly. The good news is that I can type one-handed," and he smiled.

"Work has agreed that I'll take two weeks convalescent leave. Mind you, I've a few disks of stuff for them, so it's not as if I've been lazing about; it just takes a little longer, that's all. And I can field some problems from my phone here."

"Talking of 'phones, I'd better book a taxi," she said. He pointed towards the phone and she made the call. They ate the meal and then talked of little things while she washed up. He felt a pang of something when the taxi came and she took her leave of him.

He escorted her to the door. For a moment, Charlie panicked as Lois paused as if expecting a kiss. She made up her mind and gave him a quick hug and left him rather bewildered and very conscious of the smell of her perfume.

.**.

Over the next few weeks, Lois helped him with exercises and even went with him to the Pub a few times. The plaster was off, but his hand now sported a support bandage which he had to remove only for physio and changing.

Baz and the other team members, after a short period of confusion, took to Lois; particularly when she showed that she did understand at least the rudiments of Cricket and was able to talk with some confidence about matches she'd seen.

One Saturday, he spent the morning trying to use the vacuum cleaner. It seemed to work better after he'd emptied the bag, and the carpet was visibly cleaner, if nothing else. The washing machine was doing serious duty and the plates all stacked clean. He felt almost proud of his efforts by the time he'd finished and had a coffee. When Lois arrived, looking fresh and still flushed from her trip to the sports club, he was sitting at his computer. As she entered the living room, she looked at his effort and commented "Most of it's a bit tidier, anyway."

He took that as a mark of some approval. They spent the afternoon talking and discussing sports, computers and related matters whilst Lois supervised more cleaning up.

"Would you like to go out for a meal?" said Charlie. Time was getting on and he'd not thought about food; not for two, anyway.

"Yes, please," she said, "that would be nice; but nowhere posh; I'm not dressed for an evening out."

He wasn't so sure, but they went anyway.

They got back late and Lois phoned the taxi firm who told her 'there'd be none available for a couple of hours'. She repeated the news to Charlie.

He hesitated, and then said "I've a spare bed if you'd like to stay."

Telling the taxi firm not to bother, Lois hung up the phone and said. "Yes, please, Charlie, if it's not too much trouble."

Charlie said: "No problem. You put the coffee on, I'll sort out your sheets," and with that went carefully upstairs. He came down as the kettle was boiling. She finished making the coffee and handed him a cup.

"Pills time, is it?" she asked.

"Oh, yes, mustn't forget the pills, must I." He groped in the package one handed whilst Lois steadied it. Their hands met and there was a pause. He looked at her and said. "Two please."

She removed two pills and put them on the table. Charlie took them and drank his coffee. Lois had a strange look about her eyes that he could not fathom.

Suppressing any wayward thoughts, he drank up and showed her to her room. "I don't keep much by way of ladies nightwear, but there's a couple of Jan's in there, somewhere." he said.

"The bathroom's got plenty of the usual toiletries and provided you like cereals or toast for breakfast, you'll be OK. If you want to wash anything, there's a machine and dryer in the kitchen." And with that, he left her.

As he settled down for sleep, Charlie felt stirrings he'd almost forgotten; he was getting an erection. Sleep did not come easily and was punctuated by dreams of Lois, wearing very little — apart from stockings.

He woke suddenly with a stiff back to find Lois dressed in an old pyjama top and standing next to the bed with a cup of coffee. Her legs seemed to go on forever.

She looked good and smelt better; hair uncombed and no make-up. Many of the pyjama buttons were missing or open, and there was not much by way of anything to cover the maidenly blush, wherever that was, but the maidenly bush was tantalisingly close. He felt a surge of energy across his stomach and cleared his throat to cover his embarrassment. He was aware that she could see the bulge. It was difficult to miss, barely covered by the sheet.

She looked him in the eye and said "Reassuring to see something's working OK." She smiled.

"Not very much of late," said Charlie, pulling his knees up to disguise the swelling sheet.

"Have you managed, well, since the divorce and all?" she asked lightly, nodding her head at the bulge as she sat on the edge of the bed. Charlie moved his legs to give her more space, coughed and muttered: "No."

"I've been that way myself at times," she said. "All dressed up and nowhere to go." She lowered her head.

"I'm not sure I can manage it from a cold start," he said. "It seems that the pills do something to the nerves and I'm not sure I can get it up. For long enough to satisfy the lady, anyway. And I was taught the rule that the lady comes first." He felt strange talking like this to Lois. He didn't say this much to his Doctor and yet here he was volunteering it to his former secretary.

"Start off with halves," she said. "Then work up to pints, or so the advert says. Does it all work, anyway?"

"Well it did last time I tried it," said Charlie, with some embarrassment. "Although I have been quite successful in not trying it, one way or the other." He looked down the bed. The bulge was like a bloody tent-pole, he thought, trying to look away from the woman at his side.

"I think I'd better go to the loo," he said. He hugged his knees to disguise the bulge. As he drank his coffee, it subsided a bit.

She eased her position on the edge of the bed. "Do you mind if I have a shower after you, please?"

Charlie cleared his throat. "Go ahead. I'll follow after you. It still takes me a little while to get organised. The towels are in the airing cupboard," he called as she started to go.

She stopped at the doorway and looked back at him. "You may have heard a rumour or two about Jan. As you may know, Jan is at my house until she gets herself sorted, but our lives are now almost separate as we work strange hours, in different places, miles apart."

She paused and then went on: "There was a time when I wondered if I was more attracted to a woman than a man, and Jan, strangely, helped me sort that out. However, I think it is not unfair to say that Jan probably is attracted to women. I am not."

And with that, she quickly left, leaving only the soft sounds of her footfalls on the carpet.

Charlie was surprised. If Jan was getting her head together, regardless of who with, that was fine by him. He had enough to worry about, and dealing with the problems of his ex-wife were not high on his personal agenda. Lois was something else again. He rose with an aching stiff back and put on his towelling robe. Taking his mug, he carefully worked his way down the stairs and eventually dumped the mug in the washing-up. His erection had subsided enough for him to use the downstairs toilet. Going back upstairs was easier, the effort smoothing out the knots in his muscles. He was doing a few sit-up exercises by his door when Lois emerged from the bathroom wearing one towel round her head and another round her body.

She paused to watch his efforts. They obviously still hurt and he was sweating with the strain.

"Can I help?," she asked. "Bandages or whatever?"

Charlie looked up at her from his prone position on the floor and tried another sit-up. "Not at the moment, thanks. The physio changes the bandages when he gets to work on my hand. It just takes a little while to get the other muscles going." He stopped his exertions.

"Thank you for telling me," he continued. "Yes, I had heard a rumour about Jan, but I'm afraid a lot of it was lost in the re-telling and your reputation was not untarnished. Nobody has mentioned whether I featured in any stories."

Her towel seemed tantalisingly small to Charlie. "I think I'll get into the shower now," he said.

The pain had eased and he straightened up. "A cold one this time." He smiled at her. She returned his smile with a wide grin which seemed to light up her whole face.

She looked at his bandages and said: "I think you still need a bit of help."

Her help took the form of some plastic bags and was accompanied by giggling and jokes, but eventually he was out and wrapped in a towelling robe. He wondered if the washing machine would cope with the extra load.

He was standing at the mirror combing his wet hair when Lois tapped on the door and entered wearing a tight crop top and a short skirt. She took his hand and removed the plastic bag and then moved behind him.

He could feel the pressure of her breasts in his back as she hugged him. Then just as quickly, she was gone. He felt a sudden emptiness.

It was some moments before he could concentrate and in the end, he found his electric razor and used that. He did not trust his nerves with even a safety razor.

.**.

At some strange hour of the morning, Charlie woke up with the feeling that something was not quite right. Soft footsteps padded and a shadow passed the window. He reached out to the light switch but a hand stopped him.

Lois climbed into the bed.

Her hands were like a cool butterfly on his stomach as they weaved their tantalising pattern on his skin. He felt his erection growing whilst his mind whirled. She hooked a leg over him and in one almost fluid movement sat astride him. Panic swept over him as she leaned forward, put her hands on the side of his head and kissed him.

As she started to lower herself, he felt the blood pressure go; all the physical sensations stopped and he realised with shame that it was not going to work. He rose up and, holding her by the shoulders, lowered her beside him. "Sorry love," he said, "I told you that I had a few problems."

She put her arms round him, pulled him closer and kissed his cheek. "Don't panic," she whispered. "I just had this silly idea. There will be a time. Relax and sleep now." Putting her head on his shoulder, she relaxed. And after a short while, the pills reasserted themselves and he also slept.

When he woke in the morning, there was a lingering trace of her perfume, but that was all. He felt quite disappointed; but curiously relieved as well.

.**.

Lois felt that something was missing. Charlie was still a distant figure, apparently unwilling to risk any sort of sexual adventure.

He was sitting on the sofa, a drink in his 'good' hand. She walked in and sat down to her coffee. Her simple wrap was tied high under the breasts, which served as a magnet for his eyes. He forced his eyes back to the TV and noticed that if he looked carefully at the screen he could just see her reflection in a corner of the tube.

During the adverts, she spoke: "Forgive my asking," she said, "but can you tell me anything about Jan and you?" She almost blushed and went on: "I'll understand if you say that it's none of my damn business and even tell me to quit, but I'd like to understand."

An encouraging faint trace of a smile crossed her face. Something about her made him think about their previous conversations before speaking. Taking a mental grip of himself, he pressed the TV mute button.

"We had our problems," he said. "She cooked a mean steak and pasta dishes and kept the house clean. She was hopeless at computers and even the video was a standing joke. But the bedroom scenes were nothing to write home about. I felt that I'd let her down, particularly with the physical stuff."

He looked down at his feet in embarrassment.

"She occasionally tried to show me what she liked, but I felt I was never able duplicate it, to take her to the peaks of passion, as it were. It was as if I had missed something. We read magazines and books, but it was of little help. She even tried going down on me one night; she was long on teeth and short on understanding."

He winced at the memory and coughed.

"She'd do it herself when she thought I didn't know. I first heard her one night when I was in the bath. It must have been some orgasm, she was that loud. I could never manage that for her by hand, let alone actual sex.

It left me feeling confused and inadequate. But, like adults we talked about it and we told ourselves that it would work out given time and a bit of patience. Then the business got better and I had less time to worry about it. By the time I got home some evenings, I was too tired to eat, let alone make love." He cleared his throat again.

"Go on," she said quietly. She leaned forward. He dragged his eyes away from her cleavage and looked her in the eyes. "She even tried dressing up for me a time or two but in the end even I could tell her heart wasn't in it."

He paused and went on: "Like most men, I like to see a woman wearing a little something. Her choice in nightwear was more functional than passionate, even in summer. If you'd like proof, there are still a couple upstairs; I've earmarked them as dusters."

He smiled ruefully.

"Only once did she wear a nightdress I'd bought for her. It was a nice thing which had taken me ages to find, yet somehow it did not look quite right on her. It wasn't as if it was the wrong size or even the wrong colour. It was how she wore it. More like a child reluctantly putting on a new school uniform for the benefit of the Aunts. She looked as if she was letting me know that this was a one-off and it was strictly for me not her. I wanted it to be for both of us. I don't know what became of it. Can't say I've looked too closely."

He looked back at the TV.

"Come to think of it, you can tell I've not looked too closely at this house for a while."

He released the sound as the news started again. The moment was gone. She thought she understood why, but was determined not to let it drop and watched the rest of the programme with some determination and lip-biting. As the closing headlines rolled up, Lois poured the coffee and said "Were you ever tempted to watch Jan do it herself?"

"I doubt she'd have let me, even if we'd got round to discussing it" he said thoughtfully. "I have to confess to a normal amount of curiosity, if not actual voyeurism. I've seen enough soft porn although I'm not a great fan of the smile at both ends' school of photography."