The Escapee Hitchhiker

Hastily, I plucked the single red rose from its resting place and strode up to the visitor.

"You had a date for Valentine's with Marie?" I asked him quietly.

He had the decency to look ashamed and could not meet my icy stare.

"You organize the rose?"

He nodded.

"Very well, before you leave - and believe me you are leaving - you might like to eat these."

Peeling off several petals, I pushed them towards his mouth. Predictably he kept his lips firmly shut. I should point out that he was perhaps a whisker taller than I am, but flabby. I work hard when I am not actually driving and I'm in pretty good shape. In a physical contest, he would be embarrassed, and he knew it.

I backed him away from the door and before he realised what was happening, I twisted one of his hands hard behind his back. He winced in pain.

"Now EAT."

The maître 'd moved forward to intercept, aware that we had attracted the attention of virtually every diner in the restaurant. A little more pressure and suddenly his mouth opened and he began to chew.

"Now I suggest that you get the hell out of here, go treat your own wife to dinner, and never come near mine again. Got it?"

He tried to swallow, nodded and turned to leave, to the applause of the entire table seated near the entry. I felt a whole lot better already, and dinner had not even started.

"I'm so sorry to have let you down like this," Marie blubbered. "I should never have agreed to have dinner with him. I realized that when I left home. When I walked in and was asked where Mr Martin was, I realized the enormity of my deception, thinking that you were still doing it tough in Port Hedland. I made up my mind to leave before Steve arrived. He's the guy you fed the rose petals to. He is a teacher at my school, he's married and has three kids at home and until a couple of weeks ago, I never thought he was anything more than a friendly work colleague. It was when I told him you were stuck because of the cyclone and were sharing your room with a female hitchhiker, that he showed his true intent. He painted a convincing picture of what you and your hitchhiker might be doing together, I was gullible enough to think there was could be some truth in it and was convinced that if you could get a bit on the side, then so could I. I realized tonight that the dinner was just an entrée for the main course. He mentioned that he had a hotel room booked so that we would not have to drive home. You must think I'm a terrible wife to have let things get this far but truly Mike, nothing happened."

When I caught Marie, she was leaving the restaurant as though the devil himself was in hot pursuit, and I had to admit that her teacher "friend" would have had no chance of stopping her even if he had seen her departure. I broke into a broad grin because I realized that not only had she never cheated on me, but that she never would. She had defied the most determined seducer and won!

Our dinner, quiet at first, finished up being the best ever. The group who applauded earlier, invited us to join them. We made new friends and we finally staggered out to a cab at 2am.

We should have been exhausted, but both of us had time to make up and we were shedding our clothes as soon as the front door closed.

"I love you so much," she cooed as I entered her. We made love gently and drifted off to sleep in each other's arms.

A funny thing happed a few days later, an hour or two after I took off to fly back to Port Hedland to pick up the truck. A teacher was assaulted and bashed by two men in a shopping car park. One of the assailants told him that they were representatives of the Wives Protection Society, and that if ever he turned his attention to another man's wife, they would be looking for him to finish the job. The Wives Protection Society? Never heard of it. Pete and Steve are fellow truckies and good mates of mine, but members of a society? Surely not.