The House Sitter

"Oh... but you'll have your book for that."

I shrugged. "This is where I wrote the book, but the story came from other places. But the time I spent being here, writing it... I don't know, maybe that'll be in some other book. But I'd really like a copy of the picture, if you'd let me have one."

"Well... I'll see how it turns out," she said. "It's probably going to be rubbish."

"Well then, I'll send you a copy of my rubbish book, and I'll have a copy of your rubbish picture, and we'll be all square."

"But I bet your book isn't rubbish. It can't be!"

"Why not?"

"Well... I can't imagine you writing a rubbish book, that's all."

"Thank you," I said.

There was a silence.

She looked at me. "Now you're supposed to say... I can't imagine you painting a rubbish picture."

"Oh." I looked skywards, embarrassed.

"Well, come on then!"

I puffed out my cheeks. "The problem is... I've seen you cook. I can totally see you painting a rubbish picture."

She tried to hit me with her paintbrush. "OH FUCK OFF! That's so MEAN!"

I laughed. It was the first time I'd ever heard her swear, and it was charming.

"I'll see you later," I said. "I'm going back to my brilliant book, while you work at your rubbish picture."

"Fuck off! You can get your own fucking meals from now on!"

"Oh god, yes, thank you! No food poisoning for me tonight."

"I HATE YOU!"

"Hate you too!" I called back cheerfully, and went back inside. Polly looked at me, puzzled.

"Don't worry," I said, without thinking. "I love her really."

Polly thumped her tail, pleased. I stared at her. Then I looked back outside, where Natalie was once again focused on her picture.

I went up the stairs rather slowly and thoughtfully.

**

She tried to scowl at me as I came down for supper but I could see her smirking underneath it and the mood within five minutes had a very relaxed, intimate air. Somehow that silly little exchange had broken another small barrier between us. I decided to push at something that my mind had occasionally kept returning to.

"So... Spain," I said, between mouthfuls.

"Mmhmm. What about it?"

"Why did you really leave?"

She stopped chewing and looked at me. "I told you. Boring people and grabby old men."

"I know that's what you told me. I just think there's some other things you didn't."

She gazed at her plate and moved some pasta around for a few moments.

"It all seems a bit silly now."

"I'm sure it didn't at the time. But if it's embarrassing, don't tell me. I've just been wondering, that's all."

"Why were you wondering?"

"I don't know. Nosiness, partly. And... I think something upset you then. I like you a lot, and you'll be gone soon... and sometimes telling things to people can help. But it's up to you."

She moved some more pasta around, took a half bite, then put her fork down again. Then suddenly those deep blue eyes were on me again.

"You won't tell anyone? Actually... don't worry, I know you won't. You make me feel very safe."

"Thank you," I said. "And I won't."

She fidgeted in her seat. "The thing is, Spain was always a bit of a... well, a sort of cover story. I knew my parents were going away for the summer, and I thought poor old Polly would be put in kennels, and the house would be empty."

She paused, and took a sip of her drink.

"And... I'd sort of been seeing this boy. And I was really crazy about him, god knows why. I even wrote poems about him! Can you believe that? I just thought he was so... perfect. And I really... I really wanted to spend as much time with him as I could. So, I told him I'd go to Spain, and then I'd find some excuse to leave, and everybody would think I was somewhere else, and then we could come up here and spend the summer here. Just the two of us."

"Ah," I said. "But... obviously something else happened."

"I was supposed to wait three weeks before I came back. He was busy doing some job for his father, or something. But I couldn't wait that long so I came back after a fortnight and I hitch-hiked to his house and his parents said he was in town and... and... and..."

Suddenly she was near tears.

"Hey," I said. "It's OK. Take your time. Or don't tell me... I think I can probably guess."

"And he was... he was coming out of the cinema and he had his arm around this girl and I thought well maybe that's his sister and then I saw him kissing her and there was no way... well, I went up to him because even then I thought he'd be able to explain it or something and he just looked at me really surprised and he didn't even take his arm away from her. And this girl he was with... she said... she said... something so awful to me..."

I reached across the table and held her hand. I don't think she even noticed.

"She said... she said... darling, the truth is from what he tells me I'm just a... much better... fuck... and she just laughed... and I ran away and he called after me but... well, then I sort of came here anyway because I didn't know what else to do."

"Jesus, Natalie," I said. "I'm so sorry."

"I know it all sounds really silly but it was just... awful."

"Of course it was. You didn't deserve that."

She sniffled. "Oh god. Horrible bitch."

"Totally horrible bitch," I said. "They deserve each other. And you deserve a hell of a lot better."

She sniffled some more and then Polly came and laid her head on her lap. That made her really burst into tears. I came quietly around the table and put my arm around her and that's how we stayed for a while, Polly and I trying to comfort this crying girl.

**

On Thursday I declared a day off.

"We need a challenge," I said. "We're going to canoe to the top of the lake and back."

"Really? The whole day? What about your writing?"

"I'm nearly done. I'll finish tomorrow, I think. Maybe Saturday, but I think tomorrow."

"Don't you want to finish it today?"

I shook my head. "Have you seen the weather forecast? Lots of rain on its way. Lovely today, but tomorrow and the weekend - no good at all."

"Oh no! That's such a shame!"

"So... let's make the most of it. Picnic lunch, picnic tea. Set off as soon as we can. I reckon about three hours there and three hours back. What do you say?"

"Yes," she said, clapping her hands. "I'd love it. I haven't done that for years. We used to do it all the time when we were smaller. I know exactly where we can have lunch, too."

We assembled a bag of sandwiches and snacks and a cooler box of drinks. I went down to the boathouse and cleaned up the rather dusty canoe before launching it into the water. I found some old but serviceable lifejackets and cleaned them off as well.

Then, with Natalie in the bows, Polly in the middle, and me at the back, we set off.

There was hardly a breath of wind on the lake, just a very faint breeze which was enough to keep us cool but not enough to make paddling hard work. We settled into an easy rhythm, hugging the shore for the most part but occasionally cutting out into deeper water when we went past an inlet or a bay.

I could hear Natalie humming and singing quietly to herself as she paddled. She'd tied her hair into a ponytail and I could see the occasional bead of sweat run down her back, soaking into her shirt. I noticed that my borrowed sweater was sticking out of the top of her bag and I wondered if I would ever get that back. She seemed to have become quite attached to it. I found I was humming along too. Polly watched the shore intently, ready to leap out and attack the moment she saw a rabbit or any form of life.

But the lake and its shores seemed completely deserted that day. It wasn't quite peak holiday season and this lake was more remote and more difficult to get too than some of the others. I had occasionally seen a few other boats over the last few weeks but it was never busy, and today it was completely ours.

Every now and again I would call a halt and we would just float idly, letting the boat spin and drift while we soaked in the sun and sipped our drinks. Polly lapped water from the lake. Then we would pick up our paddles again and resume our leisurely progress.

Around midday Natalie pointed to a small outcrop just to the left and ahead of us.

"We used to go there for lunch," she said. "It's one of my favourite places. Can we go there?"

"Of course," I said.

We beached the canoe on the rocky shore and I somewhat stiffly extracted myself. I looked around. It was a perfectly private spot, enclosed on either side by two walls of rock that stretched out into the water for about twenty feet or so, forming a small harbour. Behind us the woods were thick and dark and for all I knew they could have gone on for miles. We could have been the last people on earth.

"I love it here," said Natalie.

She spread out a picnic blanket from the bag and we settled down to eat. Polly was banished to eat her somewhat smelly dog biscuits in a patch of shade some twenty feet away, where she crunched them enthusiastically and very noisily.

"I'm just trying to think when I was last here," said Natalie. "It might have been... six or seven years ago. Wow! Can it have been that long? Yes, I think it must have been, because..."

She trailed off. I looked over, enquiringly, and saw that she was blushing.

"Because...?"

"Well... you can see it's quite private here."

I nodded.

"So... we used to swim here."

"Ah," I said, understanding dawning.

"And well... that time was the first time I realised... my body was a bit different. And that maybe I didn't want to just... strip off in front of everyone. I mean, it was only my mum and dad and brother, but... still. You know?"

She took another bite of sandwich and swallowed it thoughtfully.

"So, I didn't swim that day. I hadn't bought a suit or a bikini, so I just didn't. And I remember feeling a bit sad as we went back that I hadn't, you know? Like that was something I could never do again."

She sighed. "Anyway, so that was how I know when it was that I was last here. Funny how those things stay with you."

"Did you bring a suit with you today?"

She shook her head. "No... I didn't think about it. I could swim in my... underclothes, I guess. I've got a change with me."

"If you want," I said, "I could go for a walk up into the woods and you could have a swim. If you wanted to. I wouldn't peek."

She looked at me. "I know you wouldn't," she said. Then she went back to eating her sandwich, seemingly lost in thought.

When she'd finished eating, she got to her feet. She looked at me.

"I guess... sometimes I just need to be a bit braver."

She lifted up her arms and pulled off her top. She was wearing a blue sports bra underneath it. Then, more shyly but still with a sense of determination, she peeled off her shorts. Underneath she wore black panties, high cut into a V shape.

She paused for a moment, then smiled a little nervously at me, took a deep breath, and took off her bra. Her breasts were startlingly white, full and round and topped with smooth, puffy pink nipples. Then she tugged down her underwear. She'd shaved herself neatly, with just a small nest of dark blonde hair above her barely visible slit.

She looked at me. "I'm going to swim."

"OK," I said. I think my voice may have been a little dry.

She walked down to the shoreline. Her buttocks were high and firm and perfect. She stood knee deep for a moment, adjusting to the temperature, then took a few more steps out before launching herself out into the deeper water.

"Oh my god," she said. "That's cold!"

There was a wonderfully erotic innocence about watching her swim. She was aware of me watching her, enjoying the sight of her, but I think she also felt completely safe. I would catch a glimpse of breast or bottom occasionally breaking the surface and that was lovely but mainly I just liked watching her swim and being totally free and relaxed.

After a few minutes she stood waist deep in the water and called to me. "You should come in!"

"Maybe next time."

"There's not going to be a next time," she said, a little wistfully. "Please?"

"All right," I said. "But I'm not as brave as you. Look the other way!"

She pouted, but she turned her back.

Somehow I managed to get myself undressed, though my hands were trembling. I was rock hard, there was no way she wasn't going to see that - but I also knew that today, that didn't matter. She was right. There wouldn't be a next time.

I walked out to join her. The first touch of the water almost sent me scurrying back.

"Jesus!"

She turned to look at me.

"Oh my god! Look at the state of you!"

"You're not supposed to be looking!"

"Sorry!" She giggled and turned around again. I hurriedly splashed out to deeper water to make sure I was covered up, gasping as I did so. If nothing else, it was going to be near impossible to sustain an erection in those kinds of temperatures.

"You decent now?"

"I guess."

She turned around, her eyes gleaming with mischief. "What I want to know is, does something like that help or hinder you in the water?"

"Very funny."

"I mean, it could be like an extra rudder, or something. If you need to turn really fast."

"You think you're funny."

"Well... I'm sorry, but that's such a ridiculous thing, isn't it? I almost feel sorry for men having those. I mean... they're not dignified, are they?"

"I hope you drown," I said, and swam out a little deeper in what I hoped was an aloof manner. After a few more snorts and giggles she swam out to join me. We floated together, treading water, just a few feet apart. I looked again into these blue eyes, the wet blonde hair framing that beautiful, fair skinned face.

"Sorry," she said, smirking only slightly.

"It's ok," I said. "It's probably fair comment. Dignity is... not easy."

"Is it because of me? You being like that?"

I looked around, embarrassed.

"No... it's because of Polly. She just... gets me excited."

She laughed and promptly took in a big mouthful of water. As she spluttered, I saw her eyes widen in a slight panic so I grabbed her and lifted her up, holding her close as she recovered her breath. Her body was firm and delicious, pressed against mine through the freezing water. She put her arms around me.

When she'd recovered I looked at into her eyes, just a few inches from mine now. "Yes. Of course it's because of you, Natalie"

She smiled. "Thank you," she said. "That's... really nice."

We floated like that for a while longer. I could have kissed her then, and she would have let me, but it wasn't the place or the moment.

"Come on," she said. "I bet I'm faster than you. Race you back to shore."

I lost by a good three lengths.

As we emerged shivering from the water, she looked at me appraisingly. The cold had indeed done its work.

"Well," she said. "I don't need to worry about that any more, do I?"

**

We made it back to the house around seven, feeling very well exercised and relaxed. Natalie had been quiet on the way back but she seemed happy. Every now and again she would turn around to pat Polly and she would smile at me and I'd smile back.

We unloaded the boat and Polly rushed off to see if any new smells had arrived in the garden in our absence. We walked a little wearily up to the house and put everything away.

"You want anything else to eat?" I asked her.

She shook her head. "No, not now. I might get a snack later. I want to go and work on my picture. I feel sort of... inspired. Do you mind?"

"Of course," I said. "I'll probably go and read and then turn in early. See you tomorrow."

She nodded and then quickly and rather clumsily pecked me on the cheek. "Thank you," she said. "That was just the loveliest day."

I stroked her cheek. "For me too." Then I turned and went upstairs.

**

Friday, as predicted, was a grey stormy day. Rain clouds built up in the distance and then moved ever closer towards us as the day progressed. But I was only vaguely aware of them. I could see the finishing line now. I sat down at around nine and hardly looked up until lunchtime, when Natalie brought me a tray of bread and soup.

"Going well?" she whispered. I nodded.

She kissed me gently on the top of my head. "Clever boy," she said, and went out, quietly closing the door behind her.

By five it was done. I found myself strangely reluctant to type the last words, even though I'd known what they would be for several weeks now. It was a strange feeling. I felt triumphant but also slightly sad. I remember my mother once saying that although she loved me as a new-born baby, part of her had also mourned the excited, expectant feeling of being pregnant. I supposed this was something similar.

I saved the file carefully, made all the backups I could possibly need, then sat staring at the screen for a while. Out of the window I could see the rain clouds had nearly reached us. Then I went downstairs.

Natalie was in the kitchen, wearing an apron. She looked at me questioningly.

"It's done," I said.

She walked over and gave me a hug. I squeezed her softly in return.

"What's that smell?" I said. "It's... terrific!"

She went a little pink. "Well, I thought you'd finish today, so I made you a cake. To celebrate."

"Not really!"

"Well, don't get your hopes up. I found a packet of cake mix that's about five years old, but I think it's OK. And I iced it, and everything. Look!"

She was very proud of it, and a lump came to my throat as I looked down at the small, rather lop-sided cake on which she'd carefully iced a picture of a book with my name on the front.

"That might be the best cake ever," I said. "Let me take a picture of it before we cut it. And you, please, if you don't mind. I haven't got a picture of you."

She blushed again, a deeper colour this time, but she picked up the cake and stood holding it a little self-consciously while I snapped her with my phone.

"Thank you, Natalie. That's made a good day even better."

"Let's see what it tastes like first," she said. "It might kill us. That would be a shock for my parents when they came back, finding our mummified bodies on the kitchen floor."

"I'm not sure we'd be mummified in just a few weeks," I said.

She rolled her eyes. "God! Men are so... literal about everything! Have some cake and shut up."

The cake was surprisingly delicious, and between us we finished it. We agreed that after all our exertions yesterday we could afford the calories.

When we'd finished she looked at me. "I think you should go for a walk. You've been cooped up all day."

I peered doubtfully outside. "I think it's going to rain any minute."

"You'll have time. Just twenty minutes. And I haven't taken Polly for a walk today. I wanted to be here while you finished your book."

"OK," I said. "You going to come?"

"No... I want to stay here. You should go with Polly. Clear your head."

So, Polly and I did a hasty twenty-minute walk along the shore. The wind was blowing quite strongly and there was a faint drizzle but it was refreshing and invigorating and there was a wild beauty about being out there that was very different from the more tranquil scene I was used to. Polly pranced about delightedly, chasing leaves and other bits of debris that were being blown around.

When we got back the rain was just starting to get heavy. There was no sign of Natalie downstairs. My shirt had got a little wet so I went upstairs to change and dry off. I saw her door was shut as I went past, with a light showing from underneath it. I could hear her shower running, and then stop.

I went to my room and pulled off my shirt and trousers and towelled myself down a little. The rain was really pelting down now and I stood in the window watching it, enjoying the feeling of being warm and inside while watching the waves on the lake pound and break on the shore.