Sunshine After the Rain

August. The summer was hot and the days oppressive. Nick stood by the open window smoking yet another cigarette, watching the sky darken with an approaching storm and listening to the distant rumbles and grumbles of thunder. Perhaps a good downpour would clear the air and dispel the sticky lethargy that had enveloped him.

He had taken this little cottage on a six month tenancy after the breakdown of his marriage and while two sets of divorce solicitors agreed between them just what he would be allowed to keep from his former life. It was a little two bedroom, single story, stone built structure, accurately described by the letting agent as 'snug', and which stood alone against a gorse covered hillside on the edge of the moor, almost a mile from the village and about fifteen miles from the nearest substantial town. All those three were connected by a twice daily bus service on which, having impulsively sold his car, Nick relied for outside contact and supplies, the 'phone resolutely reserved for emergencies. The isolation was both a blessing and a trial, but the cottage and its setting were beautiful, and he hoped, probably in vain, that his ex would leave him enough to buy something similar when the ashes of his marriage had been sifted.

Its remoteness had been its attraction. Nick earned a good living compiling tour guides for some of England's most ancient castles and cathedrals, but it would never make him rich and he harboured the all too common illusion that there was a bestselling novel within him somewhere, if only he could get the peace and quiet to write it. Well, the ending of his marriage had given him the chance for the solitude he believed he needed, but inspiration was still as distant, and he just mooched around the cottage and sweated in the heat. He was frustrated, bored, apathetic, and annoyed with himself, in a nutshell, thoroughly pissed off! Maybe a good storm would help.

He looked again at the rapidly gathering clouds. Heaped black and heavy they were marching inevitably towards him, the first visible flickers of lightning announcing their potential. Very soon they would be overhead and he could watch safely from his cosy refuge as nature unleashed her anger. Nick was an incurable storm watcher. He loved the display of overwhelming power, especially at night when thunder and lightning shook the land and ripped open the darkness. He was never afraid, just in awe of nature's might, and this storm looked to be a good one.

Lighting a second cigarette from the stub of the first, a habit he despised, Nick turned from the window and went through to the little kitchen to make a coffee. He would sit on the wide window ledge and drink it while watching the storm.

By the time he returned to the front of the cottage with his coffee the storm had moved much closer, the lightning brighter and thunder louder. Looking up the road towards the moor he could actually see the edge of the rain advancing, the tarmac light and dusty before it but immediately going dark and shiny as the rain sluiced it clean. Half a coffee later and the storm was over the cottage, announcing it's arrival in the traditional manner with a multiple lightning strike followed by a tearing, booming, peal of thunder that shook the cottage to its very foundations. Seconds later the hissing, drumming, onslaught of the rain all but drowned out any other sound, pounding at the fabric of the cottage and rattling the windows. So sudden was its coming that Nick drew back in surprise before reaching forward to close the window against the huge raindrops trying to get in.

The arrival of the storm had caused an instant drop in temperature and Nick shivered in his light tee-shirt, wondering for a moment whether to put on a jumper or light the fire that was always ready laid in the grate. In the end he touched a match to the fire, after all, it would make the cottage so much cosier and nightfall was only an hour or so away. To sit in the firelight and watch through open curtains as a storm raged was almost romantic, and for just a moment he wished his ex-wife could be with him to share it. Pushing that unwanted thought from his mind he returned to his window ledge seat and gazed out at a storm in full fury.

Then, to his immense surprise, he spotted two figures walking down the road from the moor. They were too far away to be sure, but it looked like a young couple walking hand in hand, with heads bowed against the rain. What on earth were they doing out in this weather? Had they left their car in the village to walk on the moors or had they broken down? Whichever, their timing could have been better. He would have to call them to offer shelter; it would cruel to leave even a dog out in this lot. The storm agreed with his decision, and chose that moment to unleash another blinding flash of lightning together with an almost deafening crash of thunder. The cottage shook again and the rain, already bouncing from the road, became even more torrential. That settled it, Nick went and opened the door, standing just inside the porch ready to call to the sodden couple across as they came level with the cottage.

Standing in the open door, Nick realised just how cold it had become, a chill wind accompanied the rain, blowing over his skin and causing goose bumps to prickle his bare arms. What a contrast to fifteen minutes before. He watched the pair drawing nearer, the man in slacks and tee shirt, the woman in a light summer dress, and both obviously soaked to the skin. Then, as they drew closer, he saw that it was not a couple, but two young women, the one in slacks that he had mistaken for a man was simply taller and with short hair. Why in Gods name would two women be out alone on the moor in a thunderstorm?

"Hey, come in and shelter!" He called to them as they came closer.

His words were lost as another peal of thunder caused the women to flinch and hunch their heads further.

"Hey! Here!" He bellowed this time, determined to be heard above the rain. The taller of the pair looked around sharply, startled by his voice, and he waved his arms to attract her attention. Spotting the movement, she tugged urgently on her companion's arm and both now looked in his direction. He beckoned them over. Splashing through the stream that was once a road and instinctively ducking a lightning flash, the two hurriedly made their way towards him.

"Would you like to come in out of the rain?" A silly question really (who wouldn't?) but he didn't quite know how else to say it. When he had thought it to be a couple he hadn't a problem, but somehow it was different inviting two strange women in, weather not withstanding. Poor phrasing or not, his offer was instantly accepted and two grateful women tumbled dripping into the hall.

Nick led the way into the living room, where the fire, though not yet giving out much heat, was beginning to blaze and at least add cheer to a room darkened by the storm. Grabbing two towels from a pile of ironing not yet put away, Nick holding one out to each to his guests, taking a good look at them as he did so.

Usually he would have seen two very attractive, slim, mid twenties women, one about five ten with short dark hair and large brown eyes, the other around five four, honey blond, green eyes and an impish face, but today all he saw were two drowned rats. They stood wet through and shivering, hands held out to the fire, hair plastered to their skulls, dripping rainwater, and looking thoroughly miserable.

They each took a towel with a grateful smile and a whispered 'thank you' and, as women automatically tend to do, began to dry their hair. Looking at them, he realised that a towel apiece represented totally inadequate hospitality. The taller looked like a contestant in a wet tee-shirt competition, revealing far too much of her gorgeously pert breasts, and the other's dress was almost as transparent, though at least she was wearing underwear – white, as it happens. Goose bumps stood on their skin and they were both trembling from cold. They needed to be properly warm and dry to avoid a chill.

"Look" He said. "You're welcome to a hot shower if you like one, there's plenty of hot water."

The two looked to each other for agreement, and then nodded.

Nick indicated the way to the bathroom. "You'll find plenty of bath towels in the airing cupboard, and ...err, if you ...err, like, you can throw out your wet things and I'll put them in the machine. They'll be clean and dry before this storm's over." He was annoyed with himself for showing such schoolboy embarrassment.

Once again they looked at each other, another whispered 'thank you' and they trooped off in the direction he had pointed. Does that mean they do, he wondered, or they don't, want their clothes drying?

Pretty soon he heard the hiss of the shower, just audible over the hammering of the rain, but there was no sign of wet clothes, and Nick shrugged his mental shoulders and went back to his seat by the window. The storm showed no indication of abating, rain still lashed just as hard at the window and thunder still growled in answer to lightning. Idly, he wondered who had first coined the phrase 'leaden sky'. How perfectly it fitted the dull, dark grey storm clouds that now stretched from horizon to horizon. Until it nightfall there was nothing more depressing than a rain heavy sky. But at night, well that's a different story, the full drama and power of a storm is uncovered. So easy to understand then how his ancestors would think it to be Thor beating out weapons on the anvil of the Gods!

Pulling himself abruptly back from his reverie Nick got up and walked quickly through to the kitchen. A fine host he was! His visitors were wet through, perishing cold, and he hadn't even offered them a hot drink. Well, at least he could have coffee waiting for them after their shower. Spooning instant coffee into mugs he stood and waited for the water to boil, wondering again how they came to be out alone and so obviously ill equipped.

While he stood half thinking, half waiting, the taller girl came through carrying a bundle of soggy clothing, but looking much more human and decidedly more feminine wrapped in a white bath sheet topped with a white towel turban!

"Thank you for that." She said, her voice now strong and confident after the warming shower. She raised the wet bundle. "Where can I put these?" "I'll take them." Nick reached out and took the proffered clothing, then crossed the kitchen and pushed it into the washing machine.

"You've checked the pockets?" he asked, and receiving confirmation he switched on the machine.

The kettle boiled and he began pouring water into the mugs. "How do you like your coffee? Just instant, I'm afraid, but it's quicker for now."

"Mine's white with no sugar, but Linda does take sugar, two - I think. I'm Maddy, by the way, and that's for Madeleine, not a comment on my sanity" She smiled as she said it.

"Been said before, uh?" He poured milk into all three mugs, handed one to Maddy and spooned sugar into the other two. "I'm Nick, and it's nice to meet you, even so unexpectedly."

Just then the cottage shook to another roof rattling peal of thunder and they both instinctively ducked, then grinned at their own foolishness.

"Let's go into the lounge, the fire should be throwing out some heat by now."

In the lounge Linda was dressed exactly as her friend in bath sheet and towel.

Handing her a coffee Nick introduced himself to his other guest. "Hi Linda, I'm Nick, welcome to my lair." He was struck once again by her lovely elfin features, enhanced now by a dimpled smile of gratitude.

For a little while the trio sat silently drinking coffee and listening to the storm raging outside. Then a particularly loud crash of thunder shook the windows and all three ducked instinctively, only to laugh with embarrassment at their own silliness. The nervous laughter gave Nick the opportunity to break the silence with the question he longed to ask.

"I've just got to ask this, but how did you two ladies come to get caught in this lot. Did you leave your car in the village?"

It was Maddy who answered. "I'd guess it's somewhere en route for Exeter about now, driven by a pair of wankers."

Nick's surprise at that answer must have shown, for she went on to explain. "We're down here on holiday, myself, Linda, and our so-called men, and we decided to go see the moors." She paused. "Well, what happened was this. We found a stream, a small river really, and, because there was nobody about, we all stripped to our undies and started splashing about, you know how you do when it's hot?" Nick nodded. "Then our knickers got a bit transparent in the water and Wayne, my idiot of a boyfriend, grabbed the camera and started taking pics. When we told him off, Bob, Linda's fella, said we might as well take 'em off, seeing as they were now see-through anyway."

"Do you know what he actually said?" Linda's voice was melodic even when laced with indignation as she interrupted. "He said that he wouldn't mind 'a few pussy shots without the covers on' to add to his collection."

"I wasn't about to let them photograph my pussy just when they felt like it, I'm no prude and I have let Wayne photograph me naked before, but in private, not with other people watching. Bloody pervert!" Maddy was even more indignant than Linda as she continued. "Anyway, a big row started and in the end Bob told us we could either pose with our legs open or walk back, and so we decided to walk back. We thought we'd easily get a lift, and it wasn't raining then! But you're the first sign of life we've seen. Not the world's best decision. Eh?"

"Don't see how you could have done other." Nick felt angry at his own sex for such blatant blackmail. "But I think you're stuck here for a while, I'm afraid, I don't have a car and the next bus is in the morning, but you're welcome to the spare bedroom."

Linda glanced through the window to where the rain was beginning to abate, though the darkness of the storm was now only giving way to the darkness of night. She answered for them both. "Thank you, we'd appreciate that."

Between them they rustled up a makeshift supper of pork pie and salad and then settled back in front of the fire with a bottle of white wine. The two girls were still wrapped in bath sheets, though it was now for modesty's sake rather than necessity, and both had discarded the towelling turbans as their hair had dried. Maddy's hair had settled back into its simple style, but Linda's was an enchanting cloud of blond tangles that added to her charm.

After a little while Nick made to rise. "Your things should be dry again now; I'll just go get them."

Maddy waved him back into his seat. "No, don't, I'm far too relaxed to worry about wearing clothes." She suddenly realised what she had said and blushed. "I mean, to think about changing."

Linda smiled at her friends slip. "We'll put them on fresh in the morning, if that's ok with you?"

"Fine by me. How long do you think before I next get the chance to entertain two beautiful women dressed only in towels? I am not often that lucky." Nick gave a Gallic shrug and both girls laughed

"If we see you get your camera, we're outa here!" Maddy warned, and it was Nicks turn to laugh.

The next hour or two passed very pleasantly, all three relaxed with the help of the wine and they chatted as if old friends. The fire was allowed to burn down, the cool storm air having been replaced by summer warmth once more, and Nick turned on a pair of table lamps to supplement the fading firelight. As he did so he was struck by the pleasant, almost domestic nature of scene, the two towel-wrapped women bathed in soft light and chatting animatedly, and for the first time since parting from his wife, Nick felt lonely.

The two women were showing an amazing resilience, able to put away the events of the day, their stranding by 'idiot ex-boyfriends' (their description!), their drenching, the difficulties they now faced getting home. In fact it seemed that they regarded the whole episode as something of an adventure; unknowingly bringing home Nick's own feelings of self pity. He resolved to follow their example and 'turn setbacks into opportunities', a phrase he'd heard somewhere before.

Nick found himself drawn more and more to Linda, his gaze often lingering on her for minutes on end. Eventually he made a conscious effort not to stare, just in case the girls noticed and embarrassed him, but it was difficult to stop his eyes returning to her face. Twice he had to hurriedly shift his eyes as she glanced in his direction, almost catching his stare.

Eventually, as midnight came closer, his eyelids became heavy and he noticed Maddy discreetly stifling a yawn, so very reluctantly, he decided that it was time to break up the party. He was thoroughly enjoying the conversation and the company, but, he thought, it would be a poor host who kept his guests from their beds.

"Sorry girls, I think I'm going to have to call it a night." He said finally. "If you want to stay up, you're welcome of course. You know where your bedroom is - first right? But I'm whacked and I'd hate to fall asleep on you."

This time Maddy answered for them both. "No, it's been a heavy day and we could do with turning in as well. In fact, if we stay up much longer you're likely to find out just how unladylike my snores can be!"

All three smiled at that thought and, with much exchanging of 'goodnights' and 'sleep wells' they made their way to their respective bedrooms.

At the door of the spare room Linda turned to Nick. "You know, we really are grateful to you Nick, you didn't have to do all this and I want to say thanks. You're a star." With that she blushed and hurriedly shot after Maddy into the bedroom, leaving Nick beaming with embarrassed pleasure.

Somehow the bedroom was still oppressively hot, the heat of the day not having been dissipated, and having opened a window, Nick simply shrugged off his clothes and lay naked on top of the covers. But for all his tiredness sleep was not his friend tonight, coming only in fitful interludes and leaving him lying staring at the ceiling for too much of the time. But the cause of his wakefulness was not really the heat, it was Linda. He could not get her out of his head. In his mind's eye he saw her blonde curls tumbling over her bare shoulders, brushing against the bath sheet she wore. He pictured her smile, a cross between a mischievous child and a story book elf, so charming, so natural. He was, he knew, falling for her and was angry with himself for his weakness. A woman right now was the last thing he wanted, he told himself. 'Liar!' retorted his heart!

An hour of restless sleep and he was once more lying staring at the ceiling. Now he was thinking of his first sight of Linda, soaked and wretched, her bra clad breasts tantalisingly revealed through her sodden dress. He fought back the unwanted erection brought on by the memory and, cursing himself, rolled on his side to seek elusive sleep once again. His quest was not helped by a distant giggle that betrayed Maddy and Linda's equal restlessness.

Another hour and he was suddenly bolt upright on the bed, the cottage alive with the flickering of distant lightning. The storm, or more probably its brother, was returning. At least he might sleep after this storm had gone - if he was lucky.

Thunder chased the tail of the lightning, rolling across the heavens with heavy percussions. The storm was closer than he thought, having crept up from the front, unobserved by his rear facing bedroom. Nick lit a cigarette, swung his feet off the bed and set off to take up his window-ledge seat once more, his storm watcher mode already engaged.

Two steps outside of his room and the realisation that he was naked and had guests sent him scurrying back to put on a bathrobe. More suitably clad he started out for the lounge once more, treading quietly so as not to wake the two women, if the storm had not done already so. He did not need to put on a light, he knew the cottage layout well and the lightning provided all the other illumination he needed. It was a surprise then, when he suddenly realised that someone else was sitting at the window, quietly watching the approaching storm. Someone wearing a bath towel and a head of beautiful hair! His heart lifted.