The Volunteer

"Would you really have just driven away this evening?" she asked.

"Yes of course; Why not?"

"Well I kinda hinted that you might get lucky this weekend. Wasn't it worth taking the chance?"

"No, Jenny: because I can't bring myself to believe that you're that cheap. You'd have brought some flash git over from the States with you, if you were that kind of a woman. A film star type I should imagine. Hey, with your looks, you could have probably bagged a real one anyway."

Jenny smiled.

"You know what, Simon? I'm really glad Billie asked you to be my escort this weekend. I met you less than two hours ago and I think you're the nicest man I've run into in a very long time. Not counting my dad and my stepfather, but I'm sure you know what I mean?"

"No, not really, Jenny." I replied.

"Simon, I want to get to know you better, a whole lot better!"

During our meal, and after, we talked about our personal likes and dislikes, and our lives thus far. Jennifer enlarged on her life at the Biddle house, and it didn't make for pleasant listening. I told her about my disappointment that I hadn't got further in my career after all the hard work I'd put in. Possibly I explained why I thought I'd become stuck on the particular rung of the ladder I had, but I can't quite recall.

I know that I did tell her about the drinking crowd Billie and I hung around with most weekends. She appeared a little perturbed about that, and asked why I wasn't out dating. I almost explained why I'd given up on the dating game but didn't. I just told her that I enjoyed having fun getting pie-eyed with the guys.

Around ten-ish Jennifer started to show signs that she was flagging, so I walked her up to her room, or rather suite. I don't think they have rooms at the Moat House.

She gave me a gentle peck on the cheek and bade me good night at the door.

===================

I was a little early on the Friday evening and Jennifer was a trifle late coming down from her suit. I had to spend nearly twenty minutes kicking my heels in the Moat House reception, waiting for her to appear.

When the lift doors finally opened, the sight of Jenny coming out of the lift took my breath away.

Honestly, I'd got a surprise at the airport the day before. But that air-stewardess in mufti who'd appeared from the crowd by that arrivals gate, couldn't hold a candle to the vision who emerged from that lift. "Gobsmacked," is the only word I can think of to describe it

"Earth to Major Tom!" Jenny whispered in my ear as she planted another peck on my cheek.

"My god girl, what can I say?" Was all I could think of to say.

"I should think so. I've spent the whole afternoon in the beauty parlour. And I didn't get much change out of twenty thousand dollars for this little get-up."

"Oh, my, you certainly don't have need to play those silly games you were talking about. There isn't a woman in the country who isn't going to been jealous of you this evening. And I should imagine a few guys will be kicking their own arses because they aren't me."

"And they so easily could have been?" Jenny added.

"Yeah, lucky bugger ain't I?"

"Hey cowboy, don't go counting your horses. The coral gates are still open."

"Jenny you know what?" You have a distrusting nature; the thought never entered my mind."

It might surprise most people to learn, that no matter what happened, I had no intention of bedding Jennifer that weekend, or any other occasion come to that. I'd got myself severely burnt once by looking above my station in life, and I had no intention of going through that emotional turmoil again.

I'd happily, even proudly, be Jenny's escort and confidante for the weekend. But, Jenny being everyman's wet dream or not, I had no intention of leaving myself open to an experience like that again. And, I was fully aware that climbing into bed with a woman, any woman, is the first step on that slippery slope.

We didn't drive to the Metropolitan in my car; Jenny had lain on a Rolls. I've learnt since, that Jennifer has a thing about Rolls Royce's, especially big ones.

Our choreographed entrance (I'm not completely daft, Jennifer's late appearance in the Moat House reception was not an oversight) caused somewhat of a sensation. Everyone recognised me, but no one expected the vision on my arm. Marsha literally spat out her drink, and her mother almost chocked on her dentures. I might be being a little vindictive there.

Whatever, I can assure you that not one person in that very large room expected to see what they found themselves staring at as Jennifer and I made our entrance.

Jennifer's uncle was the first person to approach us and he gave her a big hug. There was no doubt in my mind that they were pleased to see each other. Billie and his soon to be bride came next, Billie also giving Jennifer a hug and his bride, taking me at least by surprise, went to curtsy to Jenny, who threw her arms around her before she could complete the manoeuvre.

It was pretty obvious that she was completely awestruck by Jennifer, and hardly strayed far from Jenny's side for the rest of the evening. It took a little time for the penny to drop but I'm pretty sure that put Marsha's nose out of joint. One had to assume that until that moment the young bride had been looking up to Marsha as Queen Bee. Suddenly there was a new kid on the block.

When I got a moment I pointed the fact out to Jenny and said that I told her that silly games weren't necessary. She agreed that I had been correct; her mere presence had had the desired effect.

At one time during the evening Jenny, the bride and the bride's mother went into a little huddle on their own. I noticed Jenny had produced some photographs from somewhere and the three women were studying them. It was only when the shrieks of joy started coming from the bride to be, that I realised that she was choosing what she wanted to wear from the jewellery that Jenny had mentioned the day before.

Marsha and her mother sauntered over and... well, green isn't the word for it. They did hang around the other three while the bride made her choice, but from what I could see, they made little comment.

I must have taken a very pleased with herself Jenny home a little after midnight. Once again I got a peck on the cheek at her suite door, and a "Thank you for a wonderful evening Simon."

The Saturday was a bit of a dash around, for Jenny and me. I arrived at the Moat House and noted that there was a much smaller Rolls waiting. Jenny explained that it would not be proper to out limousine the bride. I took that as a good omen. She had also gone light on the jewellery, less than twenty five thousand bucks according to Jenny.

"You lay far too much value on financial value, for your own good, Jenny." I told her.

"I know I do, but I'll try not to in future; if you'll forgive me?"

"It's not my place to forgive you Jenny. I was making an observation, not passing a judgement."

"No, you wouldn't do that would you? Simon, I'm a spoilt brat; aren't I?"

"You are a little old for the brat description, but you're not far off the mark!"

"Then why have you agreed to come today?"

"Because... I gave my word to Billie!" I lied.

I noted a definite downturn come over Jennifer's facial expression.

I've got to be honest, although I'd told Jenny the evening we met that I would refuse to go to the wedding with her; I'd been lying. Nothing was going to keep me from Billie's up-market shindig, once I'd been invited. I definitely had not been on the guest list, before Billie came up with the idea of asking me to be Jennifer's escort for the event.

Two formal looking men were waiting at the reception desk for Jenny. One handed her a metal briefcase that I assume contained her jewellery. They trailed us out to the Rolls and then followed behind in a large, but nondescript car, as were driven to the bride's house. I stayed in the Roll's and waited while Jenny went in with the jewellery and shortly later came out again empty handed. The two goons car didn't trail us to the church, they stayed very close to the bride for most of the rest of the day. Sometimes a little too close for her comfort I fear.

"Jesus, she's walking around with a quarter of a million bucks worth of gold and diamonds hanging all over her, what did she expect?" Jenny pointed out when I'd mentioned the guards. "Those goons are nothing to do with me by the way; the insurance company lays them on whenever that shit comes out." She added.

I'm not sure what expression I had on my face, but it led Jenny to add. "No, I usually stick to paste, if it's nothing special. I'm not that bad, Simon."

The wedding was a wedding; they're all the same, except for the prime participants. Oh the guys looked like clowns in those morning suites, but don't they all?

The reception was interesting. I'm not sure why, but it was pretty obvious that some hurried rearranging of seating had taken place. The ubiquitous Top Table had a distinctly lopsided look about, and I was the only guy sitting at it not wearing a clown suit.

The meal and formalities over, the dancing started. Jenny very soon proved to me that dancing was one of her favourite pastimes. Christ, the girl tried to wear me out, I'm sure of it. I was aware that she committed one of the cardinal sins as far as I'm concerned. Jenny counted my drinks. Hey I'm a big boy, if I want to get pissed, I will.

Jenny only stopped counting when I suggest she tasted one of my drinks.

"Non-alcoholic!" She exclaimed.

"Of course. You might have that Rolls outside, but I have to drive home later.

"Oh yes sorry, I didn't think of that."

"But I did Jenny, and I'm drinking all these pints of this horrible shit, because you're not the only one watching what I'm drinking this evening."

"Who else is watching you?"

"Marsha has been making little marks on a napkin she has on the table she and her boyfriend are using."

"How do you know?"

"I added a couple of extra marks myself for good measure while they were dancing. I don't know what Marsha is up too, but I suspect that it's something unpleasant."

As the evening wore on, I noted that Jenny had resorted to paying me a kind off compliment, when anyone but Billie and her Uncle Graham asked her to dance. Hey, she was probably paying the two guys the same compliment.

"Sorry I'm taken for this dance; besides, I only dance with real men!" appeared to be Jenny's standard refusal to guys of about her own age.

I got a trifle annoyed about it and ticked Jenny off. After I had done so, Jenny just told then that she was taken for that dance, then turned to me, poked her tongue out and winked.

===================

Back at the Moat House, Jenny and my parting was almost an exact repeat of the night before. Except that she asked me what we were going to find to do with ourselves the following day.

I told her that my Sundays were my chill-out days, usually very informal, and I rarely did much except laze around. "Beside's," I added, "my part of the bargain is complete."

"You think, I can do laze around as well when I want to, Simon. I'll call you in the morning." Were Jenny's last words as her door closed.

===================

I found out exactly what Marsha's game had been almost the instant I drove through the Moat House's main gate and turned onto the road. I hadn't gone but fifty yards when their blue lights came on. God alone knows where they had been hiding.

They followed me into a lay-by about another fifty yards along the road.

"I have reason to believe you have been drinking this evening sir." The officer said after approaching my car.

"Actually it was mostly last night, officer; it is nearly three in morning now."

"Have you had much to drink sir?"

"Twelve pints, officer, and a couple of glasses of wine. It took some doing I can assure you!"

"I'm going to have to ask you to give me a sample of your breath sir. Would you mind getting into the back of the police car sir?"

"Lead the way constable, lead the way?"

I can only assume that the officer thought that I was drunk; maybe he was so busy grinning to himself; that he failed to notice that I was grinning back at him. Or perhaps he took my grin as a sign that I was intoxicated anyway.

Three times the bugger had me blow into his little meter, before he had to admit defeat.

"From the reading on this machine, I'd say you've consumed no more than a single glass of wine in the last ten hours or so, sir."

"Two glasses of wine officer; but I believe I didn't finish the second."

"But we have received information that you drank at least fifteen pints of beer during the evening."

"Twelve actually, officer, I'm afraid I fiddled the score card a little. And as I told you, it was bloody hard going. Have you ever tried that non-alcoholic shit they serve at the Metropole?"

"Why the hell didn't you tell me you were drinking non-alcoholic beer this evening?"

"Last evening actually, officer. Because you didn't ask? Usually you guys tell folks to shut up and only answer the questions you ask."

"Hang on a minute, I recognise you! You're one of the "Rovers" aren't you; the crowd that does the rounds of the pubs in town every weekend?"

"Yeah, usually one pint in each and every drinking establishment within the town limits, or within staggering distance anyway."

"And you spent the evening drinking non-alcoholic beer. You'll never live it down!"

"Only you, I and my very good friend that barman at the Metropole knows that officer. And it did prove to me that a certain evil bitch was trying to embarrass me, and the young lady I was with, this evening. The first rule of the Rovers is that mechanised transport is left at home whilst you are participating in a serious session. A drink-driving charge is enough to get you barred from the club."

"Explains a lot sir; have a safe journey home. Good night!"

"I will officer, I will!"

I hope I've explained why I'd started on that non-alcoholic crap the moment the bar at the reception opened. Usually, I'd have made a couple of pints of the stuff last all evening but I'd seen Marsha watching me with that look on her face, and I spotted that she'd was making notes on that serviette. I just had to find out how far she was intending to take it.

===================

It must have been before ten when, the telephone roused me that Sunday morning. For some reason, I wasn't surprised to discover that it was Jenny calling. She informed me that she was outside my block, and wanted me to release the outer door so she could come up to my flat.

I told her to wait until I was decent. Jenny giggled and then told me she couldn't wait that long, she needed to use the loo. I hurriedly pulled on a pair of jeans and then pushed the button to open the outer door.

By the time Jenny arrived in my flat I had my tee shirt on as well. Jenny -- dressed in jeans and a tee shirt herself -- looked disappointed as she came into my flat, and somewhat remarkably, appeared to have forgotten that she wanted to use the bathroom in such an all-fired hurry.

So I went in there myself -- locking the door behind me -- to get undressed again, then shower and shave. While Jenny stood on the other side of the door and listed off places she wanted to visit that day. I kind of reminded her that Sunday was my chill-out day. But she insisted that she'd been out of the country for eight years and didn't want to go around all the places on her own.

The day definitely wasn't a chill-out Sunday for me. I must have put four hundred miles on the cars clock by the time we got back to the Moat House after dinner. Remember Formal dress only in the Moat Houses restaurant. I'm not sure that they were too happy about our jeans and tee shirts in the bar either, but besides some funny looks from some other patrons nothing was said.

Mind you, those funny looks could well have been directed at Jenny, more than me. I'd given up quite early in the day, trying to figure out just how she'd got into those jeans. The words "painted on" came to mind.

In a way, I was sorry that I wasn't going to get the opportunity to watch her struggle out of them. Oh, I suppose I should point out that her tight-fitting tee shirt invoked a similar response in my mind.

Well after it was dark, at Jenny's suggestion, we took a stroll round the hotels grounds chatting about our day. She hung tightly onto my arm and couple of times Jenny sneaked her arm around my waist, I didn't rise to the bait. She even found a couple of places to lean -- provocatively -- against, a fence and a little footbridge's parapet, almost blatantly inviting me to lean down and kiss her. But I managed to control my natural instincts.

No, Jenny was flying home on the Tuesday morning and... Well, I told you I can get emotionally involved far too quickly. I very much doubted she'd be returning to the UK in a hurry. There was no way I wanted to get... Yeah well, you either understand, or you don't.

At her suite door that night, she did kiss me on the lips instead of the cheek, but I only held the kiss long enough not to be impolite, and pulled away again quickly.

"What are we doing tomorrow?" she asked.

"I don't know about you Jenny, but I will be slogging the day out behind my desk for eight hours. Some of us have to work for our living you know?"

"Sorry! Dinner then, what time do you get off?"

"Jenny, I've been out on the town four nights in a row. I have to have an early night now and again.

"Oh come on Simon. I go home on Tuesday morning, tomorrow's my last evening in the country; we have to do something special."

"My point exactly. Tuesday morning you fly of back to your nice cushy life in the USA and things will back to normal for me."

"Is that why you won't..?"

"I won't what, Jenny?"

"Of course. Never mind. Just tell me what her name is?"

"Who's name?"

"Her name! The woman who screwed you up, like you are?"

"I'm not screwed-up Jenny. I'm a realist. I know who I am and what I am... and where I'm going in my life."

"And you fell in love with some woman who screwed your mind up, for you!"

"No she didn't, she got herself killed, on me. She went skiing with her stupid rich flash-git friends, and they went skied Off Piste. All four of them were killed."

"Ah, it's because I'm rich is it? But I can't see what having lots of money has to do with it."

"One hell of a lot, Jenny. I have to work for my living so I couldn't afford to take the time off to go with them again. We'd all been skiing once just before that Christmas but her friends decided that they wanted to go again. I should have known what was going to happen, the idiots had wanted to go Off Piste and ski on virgin snow the first time we were out there. I wasn't there to stop them was I? The French authorities said that they probably started the avalanche that killed them."

"You can't blame yourself for that, Simon. They took a risk and unfortunately it was a bad one. You could nothing about it." "No but I can understand why I wasn't able to be there to stop her from killing herself. And I won't make the same mistake again, Jennifer. I think I'd better go, goodnight."

===================

I did not have a good journey home, or get a good night's sleep. For years I had tried never to think about Elaine, if I could help it. Thoughts of her made me melancholy and brought bad dreams in their wake.

===================

That Monday was one, like many others. I kept my nose to the grindstone all day, which kept me from thinking thoughts of either Elaine or Jennifer.

I was itching to run into Marsha around the offices somewhere. I planned to have a few -- very loud -- choice words with Marsha when our paths crossed again. But as luck would have it, I didn't see her all day.