Laura, The Lorry Driver

Hi, this is my entry into the Valentine's Day Story Contest 2023 and it is a long, slow-burn romance.

So please, stick with it until the end, before you judge or vote on it.

If this doesn't suit you, then please, read either any other stories of mine or another contestant's stories.

A special thanks to Nicole for Beta reading at short notice, giving advice and support throughout multiple changes.

Other thanks to another friend, who unknowingly inspired Bea's character and continues to make me laugh.

A chance meeting with a truck driver inspired the story.

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Laura climbed back up into her lorry's cab after finishing her last delivery on one of the largest local caravan parks on her patch. She slumped into the driving seat, pulling the door sharply closed behind her, shutting out the thundering rain. Thankfully, her fluorescent coat and leggings had kept her dry except for the odd drip down her neck. She wriggled in her chair and pulled her coat's hood off her head.

With a sigh of relief, she fired the old truck's diesel engine up and the heater fan whirred into action, fighting to clear the condensation from the inside of the windscreen as Laura flicked the wipers on to fight the rain on the outside. She had over an hour before being expected back at the depot.

More importantly, her only friend Bea was on the other side of the caravan park. As always, whether delivering to clients in the park or just locally, Laura had rushed through her schedule to ensure she'd have time to call in for a cup of tea with her favourite customer.

She'd started her new job earlier that year and loved the independence. At first, delivering LPG was a little scary, knowing that behind her sat a tank of nearly three thousand UK gallons of Liquefied Petroleum Gas held under pressure, but the instructors set aside her fears on the LPG tanker operators course the company sent her on.

After driving forty footers, the short tanker was a breeze. Luckily her reputation on the long trailers had caught the ears of the boss and he'd head-hunted her. The shorter hours and pay offer had tempted her, but the opportunity to be home every night made it an offer she couldn't refuse.

Bea was one of her earliest customers and after that first meeting, Laura engineered her schedules to visit as often as possible. Over the year she'd known her, Bea became the closest thing to a friend she had. She loved watching Bea curl the bands of her hair around her fingers as she gabbled on relentlessly about everything and nothing.

Normally she found overly chatty people annoying, but Bea has an innocence that endeared her to Laura. Even with her blindly jabbered on, she never had a bad word to say about anything or anyone and always found the silver lining on every cloud.

More importantly, the short brunette was the most gorgeous woman she had ever met, witty, bubbly and as cute as hell. Her smile is a ray of sunshine on a stormy day that produced cute dimples, and her perfume hinted at something more sensual about her.

Throughout the summer, she continued to unwittingly tease Laura's taste buds by wearing the teeniest bikini top that displayed her tanned body and barely held her sumptuous cleavage at bay. The sun also brought Bea out in the tightest pair of shorts that gave flashes of white as the base of her tight, plump cheeks that peeked out from beneath the legs of her shorts whenever Bea turned her back to her.

Bea's only downside was that she was straight and lived with her boyfriend, Steve, who luckily was never around, as he worked suspiciously odd shifts, making Bea essentially lonely and craving company.

Laura was the opposite. Her previous girlfriend left her for a man, after living together for a year. She ended up in yet another bout of depression. As a result, she returned to distrusting people and hating crowds. After Covid and the lockdowns, the government gave grants to encourage new haulage drivers and considered the isolation as a further benefit. She embraced it as an alternative career path.

Despite people annoying her, Bea had become the yin to her yang. Laura couldn't put her finger on it, but every visit energised her and carried her through until the next excuse she could find to call in. The icing on the cake was the jungle drums of the park, which always ensured Bea knew when she was delivering and, as a result, she rarely arrived unexpectedly.

The lorry's windscreen heater made some headway, and the wipers fought the waterfalls of rain, swishing them away from her vision. Laura could see the caravans with their tiny undersized wheels that laughingly deemed them temporary homes, despite being surrounded by dwarf walls or picket fences.

She soon felt the heater warming her toes through her wet boots as she removed the handbrake, selected first gear and pulled away, zigzagging through the park's maze of link roads. She loved the anticipation of seeing Bea's caravan's bay window light in a few corners, which will be a beacon of delight shining through this grey day.

Three... Two... Laura counted the turns, driving through the maze that threaded through the caravan park. She stayed in a low gear, eager to turn that last corner and honk her horn, knowing that being early afternoon the neighbours wouldn't mind.

One... She wound the steering wheel around, wishing she had the power steering of the forty footers as she watched her headlights swing through the turn, cutting through the darkness of the dying afternoon. Laura's heart sank as she saw the dark blank bay window of Bea's caravan.

She'd never found Bea away from home before. Rather than pulling in, she straightened her lorry up, preparing to change up a gear and head out. As she passed the front of the unlit caravan, seeing movement, she stamped on the brakes, bringing the heavy lorry to a lurching halt.

Laura gasped in fright as she saw Bea, dressed in a sopping wet grey tracksuit, sitting on her front door's top step, a bag by her side, her head bowed onto her hands, hidden by her now straight soaking wet hair dangling down over her like seaweed washing off a rock.

Bea didn't look up as Laura dropped into neutral, pulled the handbrake on and took in the scene as she pulled her coat hood up. Bea's buckled and damaged front door had yellow tape, with 'POLICE' crisscrossed over it. Laura could see a notice on the inside of the opaque door's glass panel that even in the rain, she could read `REPOSSESSED'.

Laura's adrenaline pumped through her as she grabbed her spare donkey jacket, threw herself out of the cab and ran over to her friend, who was shivering but still not looking up.

"Bea, Bea, what the fuck has happened?"

Laura stopped in front of her to match her height on the steps, wrapping the coat over Bea's shoulders. The rain streaked over Bea's head and her fingers appeared to pull the coat tightly around her.

Laura read the repossession notice. It quoted various acts and bylaws, listing dates that the bailiffs had attempted to recover rents and debts owed. Last of all, dates confirming the county court's ruling of eviction.

"You've been evicted? But why did they smash the door in?"

Laura's mind raced, imagining a fierce battle like the Alamo of Bea and her boyfriend defending their castle.

"He never paid a penny. He said it was all a mistake, a mix-up, and he'd sort it. I never saw any papers. He always dealt with it, saying they had it wrong and he'd paid."

"Do you need a lift anywhere, to your mum's, brothers or sisters?"

Bea had never spoken of her parents or family in the present, only as memories of growing up.

"Even if I had my phone to ring them, they wouldn't answer. They warned me when I moved in with Steve. We've not spoken in a couple of years, as they had nothing good to say about him, always against him. They never let him near their house."

"What about Deirdre over the road? You're both as thick as thieves."

"Don't make me laugh. She's like the others, telling me I'm the reason their rent and rates have gone up. They all saw the police arrive this morning and drag us out of our bed, collect evidence, and then watched the bailiffs take the rest before changing the locks. This is all I've got."

Bea's hand patted the large bag for life at her side.

"Why did they drag you out of bed?"

"Ha, that rotten so and so of a so-called boyfriend of mine, wasn't working shifts as he's never worked a day in his life; all he's done is lie through his back teeth. I've been treated like public enemy number two and he's number one. They told me about his previous convictions for burglary, joy riding and now drug dealing."

"They believe you, right?"

"I don't know. They've let me go but have kept him in, saying they want me to tell them everything, but I know diddly squat. They've even seized my phone. I had to give them my passwords and have to return to the station tomorrow. I've not a single penny to my name and yet they found a hundred grand in the boot of his car."

"What about, all those friends you have? Can't you stay with them?"

Bea looked up, her tired, bloodshot eyes blinking through the strands of wet hair.

"All my old friends thought the same as my family and dropped me one by one. I want nothing to do with him or his friends; they must have known his lies and I must be the biggest joke of the century."

Laura's sense of justice and fair play kicked up a notch, as well as a desire to protect her only genuine friend. A plan formed in her head and to her, it was a simple decision.

"Right, come on, get in my cab."

Bea's eyes dropped to the floor, her hair sticking to her like glue. The once-dry donkey jacket struggled to hold the rain back as Bea remained frozen to the spot.

"Come on, you can stay with me."

With her shivering so hard, it was difficult to tell, but Laura was sure Bea shook her head. Laura's blood boiled, time was ticking, and her plan needed time. She grabbed Bea tightly by the arm and pulled her up onto her feet. Her other hand picked up the bag.

"Hey!"

"I told you to get in the truck," Laura commanded.

Her stern voice broke through Bea's trauma and she stepped one foot in front of the other as Laura marched her soggy friend to the truck, still ticking over and its wipers flicking the rain to either side. As they arrived, she dropped Bea's bag to open the door and bundled Bea up the steps into the passenger seat.

Bea looked down, like a lost bedraggled puppy with her eyes full of confusion, as she sat on the seat. Laura bent to pick up the bag, but realised its contents were almost floating, so tilted it on its side, draining the worst of the water out and stuffed it into the footwell with Bea's feet.

She slammed the door and walked around the front of the truck, seeing Deirdre peering through the curtains. Laura felt a flash of anger and pointed directly at her.

"Shame on you... Shame on you."

Laura bit her tongue. She wanted to say more, but Deidre was another customer, and she didn't want anything to get back to her boss. She flung her door open and dived back inside, pulling the door shut.

The warmth of the cab washed over her as she pulled her hood clear of her head to look at Bea.

"You okay?"

Bea looked back at her blankly, with her drenched hair draped across her face. After what seemed an age, she nodded, but her vacant eyes and constant shivering concerned Laura.

Laura stomped on the clutch, engaged first, released the handbrake and pulled away. At the exit of the park she paused, seeing the road clear she drove on, laboriously short shifting up the gears as only a tired old truck could.

"Bea, I'm not supposed to take passengers, but I'm taking you back to mine. I've a spare room. I've been looking for someone to house share with, but I'd like you to stay as long as you need to get back on your feet."

Bea remained silent except for her blubbering blue lips as she shivered. Laura turned the heater fan up as high as it would go, winding her way through the back roads to get Bea home as fast as possible. With hedgerows devoid of leaves and foliage, Laura could push her speed as she got early warning of oncoming cars as their rooftops peeked over the bare branches.

The drive to the farm where Laura rented a converted outbuilding couldn't have come sooner. Turning down the single-track tarmac lane, she wound the tanker up to speed and rattled over the cattle grid, hoping no tractors were coming the other way. They got a clear view across the curved wire fencing holding the few cattle on either side back to see the farm buildings and empty roadways.

Laura pulled up outside the first red brick building and turned the engine off. Before Bea knew it, Laura bundled her down and grabbed her bag to reach the front door, both of them sheltering under the little porch slate roof.

"Welcome to what is laughingly called The Coach House, although I think it is really a converted stable, but don't worry, all the horse poo has long gone!"

Bea didn't even raise a smile. After struggling to tuck her hand under her coat and inside her leggings to her jeans pocket, Laura produced her door key. She pulled Bea into the house and shut the door behind them.

Laura tore her coat off and hung it straight up. She pulled the soaking donkey jacket off Bea, to hang it up as she explained the rest of her plan.

"We need to get those wet things off you and warm you up in the shower before you get into dry clothes. Okay?"

Turning back to Bea, she barely seemed to register what she'd outlined. Bea stood there in her tracksuit that now clung to every curve. Under normal circumstances, Laura would relish the view, but to her, it looked as if Bea had gone into shock.

Laura unzipped Bea's top and peeled it off her arms, dropping it onto the hardwood floor. She kneeled on the floor, bending down to hold Bea's one trainer. Tapping her ankle, she commanded, "you'll have to raise your foot."

Bea planted a clammy, chilly hand on Laura's back and soon felt the dampness seeping through her jumper. Bea lifted her foot, allowing Laura to yank her trainer off, then tapped her other ankle to have another clammy hand steady itself on her back.

With the second trainer off, Laura looked up and wished she could tear her summer shorts off, rather than peel down her soaked tracksuit bottoms. She couldn't resist a lingering peek at Bea, but her mottled blue pallor confirmed she needed to warm up.

Laura led Bea by the hand through the hallway to the enormous bathroom that doubled as a utility room, with the boiler in one corner, with the washer and dryer on the external wall. She walked Bea to the bath, encouraging her to step into it. A quick fiddle with the taps had water streaming down from the overhanging shower head.

As the small boiler kicked in to warm up the tepid water running through it, Laura peeled the T-shirt off Bea and threw it into the sink. Once Laura decided the water had reached body temperature, she pulled Bea across under the shower stream.

Before pulling the shower curtain across, Laura allowed herself the opportunity to enjoy seeing Bea's small areolas and nipples showing through her translucent wet bra that stuck to her. Despite imagining a similar scenario over the summer, this didn't quite match her fantasy, and she found it hard to find anything tantalising about the situation as she pulled the curtain around the bath.

Calling to her through the plastic curtain, Laura explained.

"Bea, use the lower knob to control the water temperature. Make sure you get thoroughly warmed through. There are towels hanging on the rail at the other end of the bath and I've hung a bathrobe on the door. I've got to return the tanker to the depot, and I'll be back as soon as I can."

Laura couldn't be sure if her words had struck home with Bea hidden behind the curtain.

"There's shampoo on the wall shelf and when you're done, there's a hair dryer in the vanity cabinet beneath the mirror in the corner. Okay? I've got to go now. Just take your time. I'll be back soon, okay?"

Laura's disappointment at not finding the situation erotic concerned her a little but warmed her too, proving she had a heart. As Laura left, Bea's voice rang out.

"Laura."

Laura stopped, pleased to have a reaction at last.

"Thanks, I... I just wanted to say thanks."

"Hey, that's okay. I'll see you later."

Laura made her way back to the hall to find Bea's clothes and her bag sat in pools of leaking rainwater. She quickly scooped the wet rags into the bag and carried it into the kitchen, emptying it into the sink, leaving the bag balanced upside down, draining on top.

As sod's law dictates, Laura hit all the rush hour traffic on the one afternoon she wanted to sail through back to the yard. Once back, the delays continued. Her boss talked at length with her and the checks on the truck took forever.

Finally, back in her little Vauxhall for her return trip, she tried to avoid the traffic she met on the way in, but it had just gotten worse. Local radio warned of an accident on the motorway nearby, forcing all its traffic to be diverted off, clogging all the surrounding roads. She was over an hour later than normal as she returned to discover in her haste she'd left her key in her front door.

Once back inside, she hung up her coat and over-trousers. As she loosened the laces of her boots to swap them for her slippers, she groaned with relief. She called out, not just to find Bea but also to let her know it was her and not the bogie man.

"HI, BEA, I'm home."

"Hey Laura, I'm in here."

She padded expectantly down the hall, peeking into each room until she found where 'here' was. At the end of the hall, in the lounge, Bea stood at Laura's ironing board, positioned so she could watch some inane TV program. Clean washing piled on one chair and folded finished clothes on the table.

"Hi, I hope you don't mind, but whilst the dryer is working its magic on my smalls and tracky, I thought I'd do your ironing."

Before Laura could say anything, Bea continued without taking a breath, not realising her voice carried so well, almost deafening their proximity to each other.

"I wrung them as dry as I could before I put them in. Although it took me ages to find them. There I was, looking around your house, surprised not to find a staircase because it's a bungalow."

Laura opened her mouth to tell her that stables are only on one level. She hated to call it a bungalow as it made her feel old and retired, whereas a house felt younger. But Bea had already moved on and Laura left her explanation unspoken.

"It surprised me not to find them in the hall, you know, where we left them. I never thought of looking in the kitchen."

Mixed emotions washed over Laura, seeing Bea wearing her bathrobe, with her breasts loose, barely hidden by the robe which she'd tied at her waist, just hiding her belly button, still unsure about being excited or concerned for her friend.

"I even popped my head outside to make sure you hadn't thrown them out in the rain. They'd have probably been dryer if you had!"

Laura's eyes couldn't resist drifting down, hoping for a glimpse of lace tucked between her thighs, but only her shapely knees and bare feet were on display. Again Bea continued, as she ran the iron over another pair of Laura's smalls.

"I know what you're thinking; I should have something on my feet. Don't worry, as soon as the dryer finishes, I'll have a pair of socks on and..."

Bea theatrically looked around as if people were listening in.

"I'll wriggle into some smalls, as I'm commando under here!"

Bea grinned naughtily and wiggled, as her unfettered breasts gave the robe a life of its own. Not realising she'd given Laura a few sleepless nights of fantasies.