The Rectory

A chance encounter over a small dog leads to an afternoon of passion.

The Rectory

It was a cold December day. Rain had been continuous for about three days previously and now it was falling as a miserable grey drizzle that just made everything feel cold and clammy.

I was out for a walk. At the age of thirty and recently divorced I had decided that, for the sake of both my physical and mental health, I needed regular breaks away from my desktop computer, and so I got into a routine of finding interesting places to visit and walk, pretty much regardless of the weather conditions.

Being single and living alone also made me yearn for the company of others and walking was a great way to meet new people and strike up interesting conversations, though not necessarily on freezing cold, wet December days.

On this particular occasion I had found a small village about an hour's drive from where I lived. It had a lake, or 'mere', as a feature and looked interesting on google earth, so I decided to pay it a visit.

I parked at a local Country Park picnic area and made my way on foot the two miles or so to the lake. When I arrived there, due to the weather, the paths were muddy and slippery and there were few other walkers around.

So, there I was walking and lost in my own thoughts when I heard a woman scream. There was also the sound of splashing and I feared someone had fallen into the cold, murky waters. I rushed to where the noise had emanated from and saw a small woman standing nearly to her boot tops in the water and franticly shouting, and trying to reach something out by the reeds.

I ran to a spot close by.

"Are you okay? What's happened?"

She turned to me, tears in her eyes.

"My dog. He's caught on something. I can't..."

She sobbed as I ventured closer to the edge of the water. There was a commotion a little way out, and I could just make out a pair of pointed ears and some yapping amongst all of the splashing.

I turned to the lady. She looked to be in her late fifties and was obviously very distraught. There was no one else around to help, so I decided I had to rescue the dog.

Thinking fast I took off my large winter coat and handed it to her. She looked at me quite shocked as I then, very gingerly, made my way down the muddy incline and into the water.

The shock of the cold as it filled my walking boots made me gasp, but there was no way to reach the dog without wading out into the lake.

Slowly I inched forward aware that I had no idea how deep the water might turn out to be.

The dog, a small curly haired terrier, appeared to be caught in a fishing line, which, in it's struggles, it had managed to wrap securely around it's body.

As I got closer the water level came up to my waist and then rose towards my chest. It was freezing and smelly.

The lady on the bank was shouting out for me to be careful and I suppressed the urge to curse at this little dog out loud.

When I reached it, it was whimpering and growing tired. At first it snarled and tried to nip me but when I supported it and raised it slightly out of the cold water it became a bit more friendly.

The trouble was, I didn't have anything on me that could cut the line, so I looked in amongst the reeds to see what it was attached to. It looked like there was an old fishing chair which had ended up dumped in the lake and the line was caught on that, so I started pulling until it finally came free of the reeds and I was able to drag it and the dog back to the bank.

It still took some effort to get out of the cold water, but the lady was repeatedly thanking me and trying to reach out to help me up.

Finally I was able to extricate myself from the mud and sat panting on the bank while she cuddled and spoke to her little dog, trying to calm him. Once I had my breath back I decided to try to untangle the creature, though my hands were now shaking furiously from the cold.

"We need....a knife....scissors...something...." I said through chattering teeth.

She looked at me. "I don't know. I haven't....what about a key?"

I shrugged. It was worth a try. She handed me a house key and I could feel it's sharp serrated edge.

I quickly grabbed the fishing line and started working at it with the key, at first thinking it was useless and then, suddenly, the line snapped.

Now we had enough slack to be able to get the remaining line off the dog's body. Once free the dog was content to be cuddled by the lady and attempted to lick her mouth.

"Thank you. Thank you so much!" she said as I handed back her key.

"Do...you....have....my..coat?" I asked while my teeth chattered and my hands shook.

She picked it up from where it lay and handed it to me and I quickly wrapped myself in it, but all that really did was make the coat wet and did little to retain my body heat.

"Where do you live? Is it far?"

I told her and she gasped. "Oh my god, how are you going to get home in that state?"

I shrugged again. I'd done my good deed for the day, now I just wanted to be dry and warm. It was a couple of miles to where I'd parked my car and the day was not getting any warmer, so I felt like I should set off soon.

"No you must come home with me. I'm only over there." She pointed to the other side of the lake where some rooftops could be seen through the trees.

"No....really..." I began.

"I insist!! You'll catch your death out here much longer!", she eyed me, "Besides you're absolutely filthy. You don't want to get into your car in that state, surely?"

To be honest, now that she had indicated where her house was I felt less inclined to argue.

"Okay." I said, "Thank....you."

During the walk to her house, she told me her name was Christine, which she preferred to 'Chris', the dog's name was 'Toby' or 'Tobes', though I doubt he cared which was used. She lived with a housemate, having been a widow for twelve years.

Her chatter and encouragement kept me going on that walk. There really was no way I could have made it back to the car before hyperthermia set it.

We arrived at her house, a pleasant looking detached Georgian building that used to be a Rectory.

She paused at the front door and then made a decision.

"Round the back." she said, and led me down the side of the house and through a wooden gate into the garden.

Attached to the rear was a conservatory which she opened with one of her keys and set down the little dog in it's basket. Warmth from the house came to me from the open doors and made may hands tingle.

"Just a sec." she said and quickly walked over to a small table that contained a stack of newspapers, which she then spread on the tiled floor just inside the conservatory.

"Okay, come in and stand on the paper."

I did as she asked and was relieved when the doors were closed behind me and my body started to warm a little. Though now I also realised that I smelled rank.

"Take off your coat and boots, then we'll get you to the downstairs shower room. Your clothes are going to need to be washed, and your coat and boots need time to dry out. And I need to get Tobes cleaned up as well."

She walked away then, spreading more newspaper on the floor as she went.

I removed my boots, squelching with muddy water, and my coat and stood shivering waiting for her return.

She came back into the conservatory, now without her coat and boots. She had short greying hair, was quite athletic in build, and was wearing a thick woollen jumper and blue denim jeans.

"Now, dump your coat there, I'll deal with that later, and follow me. Be careful not to get muddy water on the carpet....if you can"

She led me to the bathroom along a trail of Telegraphs and Sunday Times, until I was safely situated on it's tiled floor.

"You'll have to let me have your clothes." she said.

I was a bit taken aback.

Did she expect me to strip naked in front of her?

"There are towels over there, have a nice hot shower and leave your things on the floor outside the door. I'll put a plastic storage box there for them. Okay? I'd better go tell Martha we have company."

Off she trotted. So I closed the door, stripped naked while trying to not spread my dirt on to every surface in the room, and then gingerly opened the door to make sure the coast was clear and piled my clothes into the box she had left in the Hall. Everything I was wearing, including underwear, was wet and smelly and my body was discoloured from the water.

I locked the bathroom door and switched on the shower which immediately gave me a blast of supremely enjoyable hot water. I luxuriated in it. I could feel blood rushing back to my extremities and dirt being washed off of me.

I used their toiletries and was revelling in the hot shower when it occurred to me that I now had nothing to wear.

By the time I finished the shower, I dried myself and wrapped one large towel around my waist and the other draped over my shoulders.

I unlocked the bathroom door and peered out? The box was gone.

"Hello?" I called.

At first I thought I'd have to go searching for Christine but then I heard her voice from the conservatory and she came padding out to me. Now she had changed from her jumper and jeans to a plain white tank top and towelling type pyjama pants.

"Oh that's much better." she said with a big grin, "Feeling human again?"

I nodded and smiled back. "Only thing is, I don't have anything to wear now...."

"Yes," she said, "that is a bit of conundrum. I do have a solution......you may not like it one hundred percent but it is only for the next few hours..."

"Hours?" I exclaimed, a little shocked.

"Well, yes. Your clothes were very, very dirty, so it's going to take about two hours for the machine to wash them, and then they'll need dried."

I reluctantly had to accept the logic of this, but it still made me uneasy. I didn't know these people and felt awkward and a bit helpless standing in a hallway talking to a stranger while wearing just a couple of towels.

"What's your suggestion then?" I asked.

"Okay, well.....my housemate, Martha, is a larger lady than me, though she has recently been dieting and lost quite a bit of weight. The thing is there are old clothes of hers which might fit you..."

"What?"

"....just for the time you're here. Better than towels wrapped around you or sitting alone in a shower room for three hours, don't you think?"

I sighed. This whole day was taking a bizarre turn.

"Is it just you and this Martha here?" I asked.

"Yes, and Tobes." she replied.

"No visitors expected?"

"No."

I pondered it. It was just material, after all.

Wasn't as if I was going out in public wearing it.

"Are we talking sweatpants and t-shirts?"

"ummmm noooo, Martha has never been a sweatpants sort of woman. It's a dress."

I felt my face grow hot.

"Well come and have a look before you decide. If you really are more comfortable sitting on your own in damp towels, then that is your decision, but I really hope you will accept our hospitality as you were so good to rescue Tobes." she sounded a little tearful again, "I really wouldn't want to lose him."

I sighed and nodded "Okay.", and then followed her through the hallway and up the stairs to a small bedroom off the landing.

Inside was a beech wardrobe and on the bare mattress of the bed opposite was a large burgundy dress.

"Try it. If it doesn't fit....well, maybe there's something else in the wardrobe that will. It's all surplus now she's dropped a couple of sizes, so she's not going to be wearing any of it."

Out walked Christine and closed the door behind her.

I eyed the dress.

What the fuck was I doing contemplating this?

Of course it's just an item of clothing. Bowie wore a dress. Lots of men have in the past, it's not a big deal. It wasn't even the masculinity thing so much as I just knew that I was going to look extremely silly in it.

I removed the towels and tried to figure out how this was going to work. Once my arms were through the sleeves I raised them and shook the dress down over my head.

A full length mirror on the wardrobe door showed me the damage.

Fuck!

The material was loose at my hips but tight at my belly and loose again around my chest.

The hem came to just above knee height. I practised sitting down and realised that 'manspreading' was definitely something to avoid.

I closed the clasp at the top of the rear opening but struggled to pull up the zipper, and finally had to admit defeat, but by now I was getting beyond caring.

If anyone laughs though.....

I emerged from the bedroom, towels in hand and went looking for Christine.

There were two other bedrooms off this landing, and a bathroom. I checked the next room, which appeared to be set up as a kind of home office with a desk, a computer and some filing cabinets, but no sign of Christine so I then moved on to the next which was the Master Bedroom.

The Master Bedroom was furnished in a very feminine style with lots of pink hues and flower prints. Large banks of fitted wardrobes lined the walls. But still no Christine.

I went out to the landing and could now hear chatter and splashing coming from the downstairs bathroom, so I went back down there next.

Christine had Tobes in the shower and was trying to get him cleaned up, but she was ending up with more soapy water on her than him.

She turned to me as I entered the room and I could see her tank top was soaked and clinging seductively to her small and rather pert breasts. The dark of her nipples was showing through the material.

She grinned at me standing there in the burgundy dress.

"Well...ahem.... It's not too bad...really...", she said.

I sighed. "I just want to sit down and chill for a while. It's been quite an eventful day."

"Okay, well, just pop those towels in the laundry basket there and then, if you go down the hall past the conservatory and to the door at the end it leads to the snug. Martha is in there. She knows you're here and about what happened." She turned her attention back to the dog, "I just need to get this little scamp cleaned up."

I left the towels as she'd said and walked down to the snug. I tapped lightly on the door and then went in.

The room was very warm and cosy with mellow, subdued lighting.

There was a large open fire on one wall burning it's way through two large logs, and full to overflowing bookcases on two walls.

A couple of couches sat adjacent to each other with a coffee table between.

On one couch, a two seater, sat Martha.

Her big grin when she saw me enter told me that she was going to have some fun at my expense.

She rose from her seat. "So you're the hero of the hour?." she held out her hand, which I shook, and then she continued "I'm Martha."

"Mike." I replied.

Martha looked me up and down with a twinkle in her eye.

"Well they say not all heroes wear capes but I never would have imagined a burgundy dress!" she said, chuckling.

She winked at me. "Suits you!" and then laughed. To be honest the absurdity of the situation made me laugh too and I felt a little less embarrassed.

"Sit!" she commanded, and pointed at the three seater couch opposite.

I sat, trying to stop the dress riding up too high and also remembering to keep my knees together, while Martha poured three glasses of what turned out to be a rather smooth single malt, and handed one glass to me. She placed the other on the coffee table and took the third back to her couch.

"It was good of you though, to save the little beast. Not sure I would've, to be honest, but don't tell Christine I said that."

I sipped the whisky.

"So how do you guys know each other?" I asked.

"Oh we go way back. Husbands worked together at the bank so it became a friendship for us too." she sipped her drink, "Both died in a car accident. All very tragic, in the past now, no need for condolences. After a few months of trying to adjust, we decided that we should pool our resources and buy this place together. Been here ever since."

"It's a lovely house." I commented.

"Thank you. That's mostly Christine. She's the creative one, I'm more practical."

The conversation paused and we both sat in the warmth with just the sounds of the fire crackling and the ticking of a clock on the side cabinet.

"Christine often tells me about the chaps she meets and chats with while out walking the pooch around the mere, but you're the first she's actually brought home." said Martha with a chuckle. "You sure she didn't push you in?"

We both laughed at that.

"No, I must admit it was a bit of an instinctive reaction. If I'd thought too much about it, I'm not sure..."

"Well, I can't say I'd blame you." she said sitting back in her chair.

"So, what do you do for a living?" she asked.

"I'm an Architect. Private practice, I work from home."

"Ahh, well that's probably okay then. Don't think I've heard of many axe wielding psycho architects, so we should all be safe!"

Again we shared the laughter and sipped on our whiskies.

"Wife? Family?" she asked after a pause.

"Divorced. No kids, we...ummm....couldn't."

"Oh? You or her? None of my business I know, just curious." said Martha, "I never had any either, though Christine has a son, in Germany. I'm not really the maternal type, for children or animals, to be frank."

"It was me, to be honest with you. Plenty of production but none are particularly good swimmers, so they said." I replied, surprising myself at how candid I was being with this stranger.

"Put a strain on the marriage, did it?" Martha asked, astutely.

I nodded and sipped my drink. "Something like that."

"Well, life is what you make of it. That's always been my motto. Too short to worry about trivial things. The accident merely proved my point."

Martha sipped from her glass.

"Best not to get morbid." she said brightly, "It is nice to have a young man around though." she continued, "Most of the great and the good around here are north of seventy and, I have to say, rather boring. Same old conversations, same old medical problems." she sipped again, "Same old complaints about young people."

"It's a nice area though." I said, "Very pretty."

"It is in the summer, yes. But this time of year, I'm afraid Toby is only going to get walked if Christine takes him. Otherwise he has to make do with the back garden."

Again we lapsed into silence, both just enjoying the warmth of the fire and the whisky.

"Still," Martha said, "Even having a young man in the house I would have preferred he'd not be wearing a dress."

"I was beginning to forget about it!" I said and laughed.

"Yes, that's sort of my point." she said with a grin, "You were nearly giving the game away just now."

I suddenly realised her meaning and quickly pulled my knees together and sat more upright on the couch.

Martha was laughing at my red face.

"How do women manage to remember?" I asked, also beginning to laugh.

"Practice, dear boy, years of practice."

The door to the snug opened at that point and in walked Christine. She appeared to have changed her top for a new, dry one.

"What are you two talking about in here?" she asked, and then spied the glasses, "Oh! You broke out the Old Pulteney?"

"Yes." replied Martha, yours is on the table.

"Looks like I've got some catching up to do." she said seeing how depleted Martha and my glasses were. Christine picked up the bottle from the side cabinet, uncorked it and poured fresh measures.

I did have some doubts as to the wisdom of drinking their whisky as I would be driving again in a few hours, but the heat of the room and the relaxing warmth of the liquor weakened my resolve and I happily picked up my glass and sipped some more.

Christine viewed her own glass sitting on the low table. It was closer to me than to Martha's couch so it was no surprise that she came and sat beside me.