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Winter Fires Ch. 01

By: steveh11



Chapter 1

It was a dismal, damp December Friday night. Simon sat at the wheel of the large red vehicle, making his way through the traffic, blue lights flashing, bells ringing. He was still very new to this, and still felt the enormous thrill of guiding the huge bulk at high speed, with the Perkins V8 beneath him.

John sat next to him. Simon knew he'd be watching, keeping an eye out for potential trouble. He didn't feel slighted or upset; in fact, if anything, he felt relieved to know that there was a backup should he make an error.

Simon had the windscreen wipers going, but it wasn't really raining. It was more a fine spray kicked up by the other vehicles, held in suspension. It was annoying, and made it harder to see, but the high vantage point over the powerful, roaring engine had a number of advantages, and visibility was one of them. Simon could see a bright patch in the sky ahead, and knew that in a minute or two he'd be seeing a building ablaze. It was his job, and that of his friends and colleagues, to rescue anyone there, and put out the fire.

Simon pulled the big machine into a large parking area, seeing a sign swinging in the moisture-laden wind: "Ronnies Caff" it proclaimed. Simon knew it through the friends he'd made at the driving school, learning to drive the heavy vehicle. It was a popular stop among the truck drivers, what they called a 'greasy spoon'.

But just now it was completely ablaze. He stopped in front of the blazing café and got out along with John – reminding himself that he was Sub Officer John Tierney, now that they were on duty. The rest of the crew went about their oft-practiced work, setting up hoses and such. John went to find someone to talk to.

Simon was once more struck by the spectacle in front of him. The fire seemed to be a living, breathing animal, consuming the building. It was more striking because of the darkness of the night, and the lurid orange light from the streetlights around. He shook himself; he had no time for sightseeing.

Having driven the vehicle to the scene, his job now was to do whatever his commander decided. He shrugged off the odd feeling of detachment and hurried after the Sub-Officer.

Just as he caught up with him, a round, middle-aged guy rushed up to John, "Thank God you're here! One of my waitresses is trapped in there!"

"Whereabouts?" Sub Officer John Tierney was now all grim business.

"She's trapped behind the counter in the main room. I saw her just a moment ago, she's okay for the moment but she can't get out of there!" Simon thought the gent must be 'Ronnie', but who knew? He put the thought out of his mind.

"I'll go!" he told John, and got a measured stare from his leader.

"Wait a moment until we can get a shielding spray set up!" John ordered, and turned to organise it.

After a wait of seconds that seemed like long, tension filled minutes, Simon heard John order, "Go!"

The heat was tremendous, the smoke filling the room while the flames burst through it. Simon knew he'd have to be quick. The team behind him advanced with the hose, with the nozzle turned wide to emit a broad spray of water, keeping the heat down. Simon advanced quickly through the door to the café, spotting the counter behind which he expected to find the waitress. Summing up the situation quickly, he checked carefully, looking for dangers. The main centre of the fire seemed to be in the kitchen area behind the main cafeteria, but it had spread forward into here, blocking the door and trapping the woman.

Once through the flames around the door he ran ahead of the sheltering spray. Keeping low to make the best of what visibility there was, Simon ran quickly to the end of the counter. He spotted the woman hiding behind it and saw her look of terror. He took her hand, placed his mouth next to her ear and bellowed, "Just follow me!" She shook her head, clearly too terrified to move. Simon didn't hesitate, he grabbed her, pulled her over his shoulder and turned immediately for the exit.

For a moment he thought he'd pushed his luck as a flaming tile fell from the ceiling in front of him, but nothing more came and he side-stepped it, keeping his balance. He made his way quickly through the spray of water to the outside. Once there he let the woman down and led her to the ambulance, very pleased to see that it had already arrived.

Simon was hot, his scalp felt prickly. He took off his helmet and shook his head, wiping his hand over his face. He knew he shouldn't do it, but it was safe enough here. The girl watched him, and before the two ambulance men could say anything she turned to Simon and plastered a huge kiss on him, blurting afterwards, "Thank you!" Embarrassed, Simon mumbled, "Just my job," and handed her over to the two medics. He replaced his helmet, took a deep breath, and turned back to the job.

John called to him as he left her. "Simon! Good job!" he said. "Now go help out Phil's team on the other hose!"

There was still plenty of work to do, and Simon didn't see the woman again. He recalled that she seemed young, even younger than he was, and he thought she might have been pretty. But he couldn't say for certain, and in any case there was no time for woolgathering.

- - - - - - - - - -

Some hours later, still feeling the rush from the fire and the rescue, Simon finally began to take stock of the night's events. He wondered who the young woman was. He'd been to the café a couple of times, and wondered if she'd served him there. As he lay in the old white-enamelled clawfoot bathtub of his parent's house, he let his mind wander to what the feel of her lips on his would be like, imagining the pressure of her shapely body against his. He began idly rubbing himself, imagining more than just a kiss from the woman, and her saying, "Oh, how can I ever thank you?" then giving herself completely to him. Deep in his fantasy, and in no time at all it seemed, he was coming... ropes of semen flying up onto his chest. He sighed, closed his eyes and relaxed, the heat of the water and the post-climax calm acting powerfully together.

"Simon! Come on, other people want to use the bathroom!"

It was his mother, on the other side of the bathroom door. Simon started, guiltily. "Be right out!" he called, and quickly began to wash himself.

Just before he left the room he grinned at his reflection in the fogged-up mirror, wiping it so that he could see himself. As a fantasy, thinking of the girl giving herself to him in gratitude was fine, but Simon knew it wouldn't be like that. He was still young and inexperienced in the Service, but while he knew that emotions ran wild under the stress of the situation at a fire, people quickly reverted back to normality. He doubted if he'd ever see the girl again. He wondered for a moment what her name was, then shook his head. He'd probably never know.

- - - - - - - - - -

It was almost a year after the restaurant fire, and Simon was getting ready for a night out. He and John were going to a nightclub just outside of town, and he needed to dress smartly – they'd not get in otherwise. He pulled his dark blue trousers up, fastened the rather gaudy belt buckle, and looked at himself in the mirror.

He supposed he could call himself rugged, but not handsome. Simon was a couple of inches under six feet tall, with narrow hips and waist but a reasonably broad chest and shoulders. He was fit – a fireman has to be – but no muscleman. Dragging a comb through his unruly mop of curly blonde hair again, knowing that two minutes later it would once again be pointing in all directions, he once more cursed his two 'crowns'. Oh well, the job description said fireman, not model.

He plucked a white linen shirt from his wardrobe and added the obligatory tie, a wide multicoloured affair. A horn honked outside his parent's house and he hurried to his window. Looking down he saw the car outside, so grabbing his jacket he hurried downstairs.

"I'm off then Mum!" he called. His mother replied cheerfully but Simon wasn't really listening and he was out of the door in a flash.

"You ready then, Simon?" asked John as his passenger eased himself into the small car.

"Sure," Simon replied happily. He looked over the car, thinking how much it fitted his friend and mentor. John was short, compact and powerful, just like the Mini Cooper S that he drove. The car was his pride and joy, it was spotless inside and out. Simon knew from experience that the engine and underside were regularly cleaned, too. Heaven help the person who dropped litter in John's car! In fact...

"Heard anything from Jenny?" Simon asked.

"No!" came John's grunted reply.

'Better stay away from that subject, Simon!' he thought to himself. Jenny was – had been – John's girlfriend for the last 18 months or so, and was notoriously untidy. Simon had been up to their flat on a number of occasions, and he had noticed that it was always John who was picking up, cleaning and so on.

Simon had been crammed into the back seat of the Mini with John driving and Jenny in the passenger seat, when she'd casually screwed up a sweet wrapper and dropped it in the foot-well. John had told her, not asked, to pick it up. The argument had gone on from there, developing, switching subject, and Simon, an involuntary spectator, had got more and more uncomfortable. The couple had broken up that night.

Which was why he and John were off to the nightclub tonight. Simon had not had a serious girlfriend yet, just a number of very short flings, nothing that lasted more than a couple of weeks, at most. John was looking to find someone to talk to who didn't have a gruff voice and hair on his chest, someone soft and curvy. They were just two young men, out on 'the pull'.

They fell into a comfortable silence as John drove along the coast road and across the marshes. Although they'd only met two years before, they'd developed a deep friendship that didn't need constant chatter to reinforce it. Besides, neither of them was a great conversationalist.

Eventually, John pulled into the car park of 'Sensations' nightclub. Both had been there before, and knew what to expect. The drinks would be over-priced, the décor was glitzy but in need of a little love and attention. But above all there would be girls. Girls who themselves were out to have a good time.

John parked, they got out, and Simon waited for his friend to lock the Mini. He read the banner promoting tonight's show - a live band, 'Rocksette' they called themselves. 'Good!' he thought. He loved live music.

Inside, the club was both dark and gaudily lit, a contradiction that Simon thought had probably cost quite a bit to attain. There were spotlights and string lights and a dance floor lighted from below, but the overall effect was still dark. The entrance was plush but well worn. Simon and John nodded to the doorman, paid the cover-charge at the window and went into the club proper.

They were met by the boom-boom sound of the music, with a scratchy guitar and insistent rhythm. John leaned close to Simon.

"What do they call this?" he shouted into Simon's ear.

"Disco!" he shouted back. John's look of distaste was a perfect mirror to Simon's own feelings about it.

They made their way to the bar. Simon stood with his back to the bar while John ordered the first round.

"How much?!"

Simon turned around when he heard the scandalised tone of John's anguished query. John handed him his beer, then shouted "One pound and twenty pence for a ruddy foreign lager. Oh well, cheers!"

They clunked glasses, took a gulp, and John began moving away from the bar.

They were early enough that there were still places to sit. John made his way to a table with a line of sight to the stage, Simon following. They sat and Simon surveyed the room.

"Not a lot here tonight."

"Yeah, well, it's still early. The good ones don't want to appear too eager, y'know?" John answered.

"Yeah, I guess. But it's still annoying. We have to get here early to grab somewhere to sit, and for the next hour or two all we can do is listen to crap music and drink overpriced crap beer."

John lightly punched Simon on the arm, replying, "That's the overpriced crap beer that I bought you're drinking. Shuddup moaning and get it down you, you'll feel better!"

Simon wondered why he felt so grumpy. He shook his head, drained the beer and stood up. "Okay, my round. Same again?"

"Yeah, thanks."

After they'd each had a couple of beers, Simon started feeling better. He offered to get another one for John, but he put his hand over his drink, saying, "I'd better not. I have to drive home." Simon nodded, and then went to the bar and got his own.

While this had been happening the band had been setting up on stage. By the time Simon got back to John they appeared to be just about ready.

"I wonder what they'll sound like?" Simon asked John.

"Lead 'n Rhythm, singer, bass, keyboards, drums – could be anything, pretty much," he opined.

The lights dimmed a little more and the band came on stage. Simon watched as two women and three guys walked on, going to their instruments. He was surprised when one of the girls picked up a guitar, while the other went to the keyboards.

The lead singer, a pale, skinny guy with long curly hair, went to the mike as the drummer counted them in. Then they began, playing a cover of the Who's "I can see for miles," and both John and Simon nodded appreciatively. The band came to the guitar break and Simon was blown away. That girl could play!

For the rest of the evening he was mesmerised. She was tall, slim, had dirty blonde hair and a button nose. She wore a white T-shirt and blue jeans, but it was her fingers on the guitar that Simon was watching. The red Stratocaster (or copy, Simon wasn't sure) sang under her attention. At one point she did a fair impression of Hendrix, playing with her teeth, then behind her head. They finished with a cover of "Whole lotta love," and Simon was on his feet, whistling and applauding.

"Hey!"

Simon looked to his right.

"Hey!" John was finally able to get his attention. "You were completely zoned out there, y'know? Wanna drink?"

"Sure, ta!"

John disappeared. Simon knew he'd be a while – the bar would be crowded just after the band had finished, but he'd completely forgotten about the time, and obviously John hadn't wanted to leave during the set either.

By the time he'd come back with the drinks Simon was ready for one. The heat in the club was making him thirsty. "I'd better sip this one," he told John, "I'm on duty tomorrow night."

"Glad you remembered," grinned John.

But Simon was paying him no attention again. He'd spotted someone.

"Hey! Loved your playing!" he called, standing up.

"Thanks!" answered the lead singer of 'Rocksette'.

"Yeah, he couldn't take his eyes off've you," smiled John, nudging Simon.

The singer grinned back. "I bet it wasn't me, was it?" he asked. "Hey, Destiny, you got another fan!"

The blonde guitarist was right behind him. Simon had barely heard a word; he was concentrating on her. She made eye contact, and smiled at him.

"Destiny Angel, at your service," she said.

"Really?!" Simon blurted, and immediately regretted it as the others all laughed.

"No, not really, it's Alison, but Shaun here thinks I look like her off've 'Captain Scarlet'."

Simon pulled himself together. "I thought you all were really, really good tonight. Can I get you two a drink?"

"Sure!" answered the lead singer, Shaun, "Mine's a pint and Alison drinks rum and black, no ice."

Simon turned to go, but John grabbed his arm. "I'll go, you, er, entertain these two!"

Simon spluttered his thanks and handed John a fiver. John winked at him, turned and left.

He and the two musicians chatted for a bit, then Shaun made an obvious excuse and left.

"He'll be off to find himself a girl, or two, or maybe three!" giggled Alison. "The guys and their groupies..."

Simon smiled back. "Really? I thought that was only the big bands, like The Who or Zeppelin."

"No!" Alison answered a little shortly, "Even little bands like us get them."

"I didn't mean..." Simon blustered, but Alison shushed him with a finger on his lips.

"It's okay, I know what you meant. It's just... well, we thought we were going to get a recording contract, but it fizzled out. Our manager says he's still looking and we'll get one soon, but I wonder."

"Do you write your own stuff, then?" Simon asked.

"Yup, sure do," Alison answered. "Tonight's gig was covers only, but I've got an album's worth of songs ready."

Simon had noted the slip.

"You. Not we."

Alison flushed. She waved a hand, trying to make light of it.

"Um. I meant we. Didn't I say we?"

"No, not as such, Alison."

"Well, I meant it. Look, can we change the subject? What do you do?"

Simon was only too happy to oblige her.

"I'm a fireman," he answered, a hint of pride in his voice.

"Cool. I've never been with a fireman before."

Simon was surprised by her candour. He hesitated a moment before asking, "Do you want to be with this one?"

Alison smiled at him. "I thought you'd never ask!"

- - - - - - - - - -

Simon found John near the bar. He told him, "Don't worry about giving me a lift home, I'll be staying here instead."

 "Alison?" he'd asked, and at Simon's nod John clapped him across the shoulders. Then he went back to chatting up the pretty young brunette he was with.

Just across the road from the club was a motel. The old guy on reception didn't bat an eyelid when Simon and Alison walked in together and asked for a room for the night. He shoved the registration book across the desk, fiddled underneath it to find a pen, then grunted, "Room 42 – across the other side."

Once in the room, Simon looked around, suddenly a little bashful. For all his bravado, and, in truth, some experience too, this was a little faster and more 'matter-of-fact' than he was used to.

Alison had no such hang-ups, however. She took off her coat and went to the alarm clock on the table beside the bed.

"I have to set it to half past four, sorry," she told Simon apologetically. Simon shrugged. They'd still have almost four hours to... whatever.

Alison smiled at him. "Are you going to get undressed?" she asked.

Simon started. He hurriedly took off his jacket and tie and then began to get the rest of his clothes off. Alison was way ahead of him, her slim figure pale in the harsh room light. Simon stopped again, staring. Alison giggled and said, "Come on then!" and he hurriedly removed the rest of his clothes.

'At least the bed's clean', he thought – then conscious thought escaped him at Alison's touch on his abdomen. She lifted her hand to stroke his jaw, feeling the fine stubble there.

"You know, when I first saw you, I thought you were incredibly good looking. But what really impressed me was the way you looked at me. It was as if you'd do anything, say anything, be anything just to be with me. That sort of thing can go to a girl's head."

Simon finally gained the use of his own hands, and began stroking his fingers over Alison's slender curves. "I'd never seen anything quite like you, Alison. You're amazing."

Alison arched an eyebrow and told him, "You don't need the lines now, boy. You've already got me in bed."

"Who said they were lines?" he countered, then to forestall any further conversation he kissed her. The kiss began as hot and got hotter, lips melding together, tongues twisting and turning, tasting each other. Their hands roamed freely over each other's bodies, his on her breasts and ass, hers on his back and the back of his head. Alison pushed him back against the bed. She pulled her groin into contact with his, wrapping her long legs around him, holding him tightly. Simon's erection was pulled firmly into place between them, hard and wetly throbbing.


Winter Fires Ch. 01



"Mmmm," she cooed into his ear. "I think I'm going to like that!"

He smiled at her. But then she said, "There's something I'm sure you'll like first, though."

"Uh?" was the best Simon could manage.

"This is something one of my girlfriends told me about," she said, and slowly moved down his body, kissing her way, from neck to chest to belly to...

Simon couldn't believe it. He'd heard of it, but neither girl he'd had sex with before had ever done this for him. She was actually kneeling in front of him, sucking his dick!

He concentrated on the sensations he was feeling, on committing her actions to memory. She had about two inches of him inside her mouth, sucking gently, wrapping her tongue around the crown of his penis. Then she lifted up a little and probed the small slit at the top, and Simon gasped a little at the touch. She looked up at him and smiled before descending to the base of his penis, which by then was pulsing in her hand, and licked up the underside from the base to the crown as if it were the tastiest of lollipops.

"Tell me when you're going to shoot," she directed him.

Then she made an 'O' of her lips and descended upon him, engulfing his dick in her warm wet mouth, massaging him with her tongue. Her lips caressed him then tightened as she sucked hard while slowly pulling up from about halfway until she held just the tip in her mouth. She began bobbing up and down, sucking and working him with her lips and agile tongue. In no time at all he was ready to come.

"I – I'm gonna come!" he warned her, and she pulled away from him, jacking him with her hand, pointing him at her breasts. He gasped, and came, hot white strings of come shooting over the tops of her perfect, pale tits, making her gasp in turn. Simon came hard, he felt as if his very being was coming out of his dick.

Afterwards he lay back, getting his breath. Alison sat back on her haunches, smiling at him, and looking down at her breasts.

"Mmmm. I really like it when I do that," she said, a little dreamily.

"Yeah..." Simon answered. He looked at her, seeing his pearly come dripping down her body, decorating her breasts in the most erotic way.

They lay together for a while, stroking each other, gently kissing. Alison made no attempt to clean off Simon's semen, and though he was put off by it at first he soon stopped noticing it, except as an aid to erotic, sensuous touching.

Alison felt his dick hardening and smiled at him. "Now, you can take care of me," she told him, seductively and he hardened still more.

Simon sat up, and stated to kiss her. She responded hungrily, and once more their hands roamed freely over each other's bodies. Simon pulled them to the bed where they lay on their sides facing each other, still devouring each other. Simon felt her hand on his, moving lower down her abdomen. He felt for her cleft with his middle finger and found it, hot and slippery. Alison's hair was soft and springy under his hand as he pushed his finger in up to the second knuckle, and Alison moaned into his mouth.

"Get me wet, first, as wet as you can," she breathed. He withdrew his finger, spreading the moisture around her, preparing her for him.

He rolled her over onto her back and she spread her legs, lifting her knees a little. He knelt before her, leant forward and took his weight on one arm while aiming himself with the other, rolling the head of his dick in the slick moisture of her pussy before easing himself inside. Alison hissed and thrust her hips forward to impale herself more quickly, and soon Simon was in her tight, hot embrace as far as he could go.

Slowly at first he began to thrust and withdraw, feeling the walls of her sex gripping him despite the copious slippery fluid there. "God, you're wonderful!" he gasped, and Alison giggled a little. Simon kept up the slow pace for a short while, Alison moving with him as they established a natural rhythm. He felt her legs pushing at his buttocks as she indicated he should go a little faster. Despite having just come Simon could feel that his next orgasm wasn't far from arriving. Alison was moaning and gasping under him, and he felt her vaginal muscles gripping and releasing him.

Simon could hold back no longer. He thrust into Alison as hard and fast as he could, then with a yell he pushed himself into her one final time, feeling his come coursing through his dick. He held himself rigid for a moment before collapsing sideways onto the bed, chest heaving.

Alison rolled onto her side, cuddling into his chest. He felt her moving against him, and was puzzled for a moment until he realised she was humping against his hip. Rousing himself, Simon rolled to meet her, placing his hand at her lower lip, feeling the slippery wetness there, knowing that it was his fluid he was feeling. She reached down and took his finger in hers, placing it where she wanted. He inserted his middle finger, then added another while Alison began rubbing her clit furiously.

Alison gasped and bucked, and her fingers went into overdrive. She didn't stop when she stiffened and cried aloud, she didn't stop until he could feel her grasping his fingers deep inside her, spasming against them in rhythm with her cries of release. Seeing Alison in the throes of her orgasm was amazing. Simon thought he'd never seen anything quite so beautiful as the wonderful slim blonde as she arched her back, face contorted in pleasure. Then she grabbed his hand and forced it away as she became too sensitive to continue.

Afterwards they lay together in post-orgasmic bliss until they dropped into the land of Nod.

Alison woke him when the alarm went off, kissed him and said, "Thanks, Simon. I really enjoyed tonight."

He blinked at her for a moment, wondering what, where, why, until he came to properly. Then he focussed on the pretty blonde figure sitting fully dressed on the bed beside him.

"Uh, thanks. You're a pretty wonderful person to be with, too."

Alison looked down at him fondly for a moment before taking a deep breath.

"Well. I have to go. Maybe we'll hook up sometime?"

"I'd really like that. Is there a number I can reach you at, or an address?"

Alison hesitated a moment before opening her bag and grabbing a pen and notebook. Simon saw that the pages were covered in tiny writing, and looked quizzically at her. Alison explained, "It's my song-writing book." 

She tore a blank page out, quickly wrote an address on it and gave the paper to Simon. "This is my parent's address, I pop in there every now and then so you can reach me there."

She left the page on the bedside table, leaned over and kissed him, whirled and left.

- - - - - - - - - -

The following morning, John asked Simon, "So how'd you get on?"

Simon had the happy aura of a guy who'd got laid last night. "Brilliant. Alison's got rhythm all right! How about you?"

Privately Simon had hoped it was more, but...

"I did okay, too. You can meet her tomorrow night, we're going out again. What about you and Alison?"

"Nah, she's off somewhere for another gig."

"Shame. Still, she gets to see a lot of different places, I suppose."

"Yeah. Alison said it made a change from shagging in the back of the band van, though." Simon paused in thought for a moment. "She seems far too nice for that kind've existence, you know. I was really taken with her."

John eyed his friend. "That taken?"

"Well, it's not as if I'll be seeing her again, I expect. Nah, not taken that much. But man, she was good!"

'But,' he reflected, 'She did leave her address. I could write.'

'I could...'

- - - - - - - - - -



Winter Fires Ch. 02



It was two weeks later. John and Simon had been out on a 'shout', this one involving a car that had run off the road and into a tree.

The tree won.

There had been little danger of fire, but the crew had been called out to try and free the trapped driver. He'd died before they could free him.

"Clunk-Click, every trip," observed John.

"You think if he'd been wearing his seatbelt...?" Simon asked. Both firemen felt a little depressed; they always did when fatalities were involved.

"Probably. Too late now."

They logged off their shift and left the station. John quietly asked, "Pub?" and Simon simply nodded.

"You get used to it, you know," John told him as they walked the hundred yards down the road to the Cross Keys, the local pub where most of the fire crews went after their shifts.

"Hmm?"

"The deaths. It happens, and you get to see more of it than just about anyone except the ambulance guys. You get used to it. You can't help it."

They walked on a little further.

"All except the kiddies. I've never got used to those. I doubt I ever will," John concluded.

"What you need," Simon told his older friend as they shouldered their way through the pub door, "is a pint!"

They made their way into the dimly lit interior and approached the bar. "Hi, Betty! Couple of pints please!" Simon called out to the barmaid, an older lady who'd seen and done all, at least according to her. She nodded and returned to her conversation with the old regular sitting in his usual seat at the bar.

Once they'd got their drinks, John and Simon made their way to one of the wooden tables near the fireplace. Despite the fact that it was mid-September, it was warm and the fire remained unlit.

"Are you seeing Patty again tonight?" Simon asked John.

"I most certainly am!" quipped John. "She should be here in about twenty minutes."

"You seem to know how to keep them, John. None of the girls I meet seem to last beyond a couple of dates," Simon said, taking a long pull on his pint.

"You've got to want them to last, young'un," replied John. "A girl can sense when you're not planning on keeping her – I mean, even I can see it when we go out. Half the time it seems you can barely be bothered to learn their names!"

"Hey, I'm not that bad!"

"You most certainly are! Don't you realise that a girl can tell? The only girl you've shown any sign of wanting to really get to know was the girl in that band, what was her name?"

"Alison," Simon supplied automatically.

"See? Proves my point. Who was it you were going out with after her?"

"Melanie. No, wait, it was Meredith. I think...?"

John laughed at him, and Simon turned crimson. John changed the subject soon afterwards as they played a game of darts, and Simon put it out of his mind for the rest of the evening.

- - - - - - - - - -

Later that night, as he lay in his bed at his parent's home, Simon found John's accusation going through his mind again. Surely it was all right? He wasn't cheating on anyone; he simply wanted to play the field, not get involved.

His parents were involved. They fought, sometimes bitterly, with raised voices that Simon had heard, but they always stayed together. Sometimes, though, it seemed that they were only together out of habit.

But he remembered his grandparents, his father's mother and father. They'd been devoted to one another, over all the time that Simon had known them. They still were, well into their nineties. Simon wasn't sure he was ready for that kind of relationship, but when he was, he wanted one like that – not that of his parents.

But was he really as bad, as obvious, as John had said?

He lay on his back in his bed, staring unseeingly at the ceiling while he tried to consider the question.

It was possible, he decided. He didn't really see it, but now, lying alone in his bed with no other distraction to his thinking, he was honest enough with himself to say that. 'It's nothing I consciously decided,' he told himself – only to pause, and think some more. 'Of course it is, dummy. You're already looking for the next one while going out with the current one...'

Something else John had said. Alison. Perhaps he should try to get in touch with her, she really had been something!

The following evening he sat down and wrote Alison a short letter. It didn't say much; just that he'd thought of her and would like to see her again. He posted it that night.

- - - - - - - - - -

On the Friday night after that, the phone rang at Simon's parents house. "Its John!" his mother told Simon.

"Hi John, what can I do you for?" Simon said in jest once he'd taken the phone from his mother.

"Coming down the pub tonight?"

"Yeah, if you like. Meeting Patty there?

"I most certainly am! The delectable one will be arriving about nine o'clock, which gives us time to get a couple of pints in first. I'll meet you there?"

"Seems reasonable. I'll be about twenty minutes."

Soon after nine that night, John's girlfriend Patty arrived and quickly came to John and gave him a fierce hug and a big kiss.

Patty was a short, sweet bundle of joy, with a fabulous figure and a short, permed head of brunette hair. Simon liked her a lot, they got on well together, and it was obvious that she and John were smitten with each other. Somewhere in Patty's ancestry there were some genes from the Indian sub-continent, which tended to give her a slightly exotic look and a beautiful pale-coffee colour. Simon thought that she should be on the stage, she looked that wonderful.

There was another girl with her. Simon made eye contact and felt... interested. Whoever the newcomer was, she was as sexy as all hell!

Patty pulled away from John and looked back at the girl.

"Oh, sorry. John, Simon, I'd like you to meet my friend Marianne. Marianne, this is my boyfriend John, and this is his friend, Simon."

"Pleased to meet you both!" Marianne answered. Her voice was a dark, sultry contralto. Just hearing her saying that conjured up a number of hot, humid feelings in Simon. In fact, he felt a stirring in his groin, just from hearing her voice. Marianne had briefly glanced at John during the introductions, but then returned her eyes to Simon.

Oblivious to the by-play between the other two, Patty stepped close to John and put her arms around his neck. "Can we go out tonight, John? Please? I fancy a dance, I do. Please?" She theatrically batted her eyes at her short, stocky boyfriend, swinging her hips a little, all but grinding herself against him.

"Of course, doll. We'll go to Sundowners later on, and you can dance with me as much as you like."

Patty poked her tongue out at John, and said, "Who says it'll be you I plan to dance with?" John could obviously tell she was teasing, because his only reaction was to look at Marianne and say, "You're going to leave me? Oh, well. Perhaps Marianne will console me?"

Marianne jerked as she was brought back to her surroundings. She turned and looked at John and then back at Simon. Her look was full of promise.

"I think Marianne's taken, mate!" Simon said, clapping his hand on his friend's shoulder. "Um... I hope so, anyway?" he said, with a querying lift in his voice as he, in turn, turned back to Marianne.

"Would you like to dance, Simon?" asked Marianne in a soft, sultry voice.

"Yeah, very much," he answered quietly.

"Then I'd love to go with you," she said, simply.

They exchanged a look that promised everything.

- - - - - - - - - -

Sundowners was a local nightclub, set in the basement floor of an old, white painted Victorian building near the sea-front. Above it was a café, but at night-time that was closed.

Simon, John, Patty and Marianne got out of the taxi and Simon paid the driver while John ushered the two girls into the club out of the fine drizzle that was falling.

Simon went to get some cash from the new cash dispenser machine set in the wall of the bank next door while John bought the tickets. He caught up with them in time to be told it was his round.

With a good-natured grin he asked Patty and Marianne, "What would you ladies like to drink?"

"I'll have a Southern Comfort and Lemonade, please?" Patty told him.

"I think I'd prefer a glass of white wine, Simon, thank you," Marianne answered appreciatively. Simon bought the drinks, including pints of beer for John and himself.

He leaned close to John's ear for a moment. "Thank fuck for progress," he said, "otherwise I'd have gone thirsty tonight. That hole-in-the-wall is a godsend!" John nodded and they went to see what was happening on the dance floor.

It was still relatively early, so while the floor wasn't empty, it wasn't packed, and there were even a couple of tables free. Marianne spotted one and made a bee-line for it, with Patty right behind her. John and Simon followed in the girls' wake.

Having reached the table, Patty placed her drink down carefully on the white plastic surface and then stood up, rounding on John. "I think you said something about a dance?" she said archly, looking slightly down into her boyfriend's eyes.

John put his drink next to hers, grinned at Simon and allowed himself to be drawn by the hand onto the dance floor. Marianne sat down and patted the velour-covered seat next to her. Simon sat where he was bid.

Simon found himself a little tongue-tied. Marianne was pretty – no, she was beautiful – and he'd always felt intimidated by beautiful women. Like many a man before him, Simon didn't think he had a chance with them, so he tended not to speak to them. 'Alison was an exception,' he thought to himself.

"Hey! Where'd you go?"

Simon jumped as he was brought back to the present.

"Er, right here?" he said, but then immediately apologised. "Sorry, Marianne, I was miles away. Um, How long have you known Patty?"

"We went to school together. I've known her since we were eleven. How about you and John? He's a really nice guy. Patty's lucky."

"I've only known John for a coupla years, but we're really good friends. He really is a nice guy, yeah."

"How'd you meet him?" Marianne asked.

"The Fire Brigade. He's one of the Sub-Officers where I'm stationed," he replied.

"Sub-Officer?" Marianne asked, a slight frown on her forehead.

"Kind've like a corporal or sergeant, if you like."

"Oh." Her frown cleared, and she frankly appraised Simon anew. "So you're a fireman, then? Well, hmm!"

Simon looked the question at her.

"Men in uniform are sexy," she told him, "and you're already pretty good-looking. Do you fancy modelling your uniform for me sometime?" As she finished, she winked at him.

Feeling suddenly bold, Simon answered, "You're very pretty yourself."

Marianne smiled, said, "Oh, thank you!" She sat back a little and sipped her wine. She looked around, and called out, "Helen!" and waved.

A short, curvy blonde waved back and pulled the guy she was with along with her. Marianne stood as they reached her, and Simon stood as well.

"Mari!" said the blonde, hugging Marianne who replied, "Helen, it's good to see you!" They drew apart again and Marianne introduced Simon.

"Simon, this is my friend Helen. We work together at the Council offices in Broad Street. Helen, this is Simon."

"Nice to meet you, Simon," she replied, "This is my boyfriend Jeez."

Simon shook hands with the tall, muscular guy. "My name's really John Crouch, but with the initials, Helen calls me Jeez," he explained, grinning.

The four of them sat at the table, shouting at each other, getting to know one another as the music seemed to gradually increase in volume. Simon learned that Marianne and Helen were secretaries at the Borough Council office, and John, or Jeez, was a delivery driver for the stationery firm who supplied them.

After a while Patty came back with John for a breather and a drink. The six of them got on well, and they stayed until the club closed at one in the morning.

Simon got to dance with Marianne. He could dance quite well, but Marianne was a superb dancer. "You're wasted as a secretary – you should be on the telly!" he told her, and she smiled. "No, I just like to have fun!" she shouted back at him.

The six of them left the club together. Jeez lived nearby and took Helen home with him, but Patty lived in St. Lynn's the other side of the town, so John would need a cab to get her home. Since Marianne lived just outside the town in the other direction, they agreed to get separate cabs, and John said goodnight to Simon while Patty hugged Marianne.

As they pulled away in their cab, Simon told Marianne, "I really enjoyed tonight."

She turned to him, smiled and said, "Me too. Thanks." For the rest of the trip they described odd things they'd seen, but been unable to talk about in the club because of the noise. Both were laughing at each other's reminiscences as the cab wound it's way through the Old Town and up the hill.

They were nearing the street Simon had heard Marianne name to the driver when he said, "I'd really love to see you again. Can I call you?"

"Sure." She reached into her handbag and pulled out a small pad and a pencil. "The benefits of being employed at the Council!" she said with a smile, and tore off a page.

"Here you are. Which station are you based at?" she asked, in return.

"Goldenvale"

"Oh, near the Cross Keys? I know it. Maybe I'll drop in and catch myself an eyeful of firemen in their uniforms!"

The cab drew to a halt, and Marianne leaned across and pecked Simon on the cheek. "Thanks again for a lovely evening!" she said, and then she was gone.

Before the cab drew away, Simon watched as Marianne walked up the path to her house. The door opened, and Simon saw someone else in the doorway, but the light was poor and he couldn't make out anything about the figure. Then the cab moved off, and Simon sat back, already reliving some of the evening.

That peck on the cheek, he could still feel it.

This was one girl he would be calling back.

But first, as soon as he got home, he'd be locking the bathroom door, and spanking the monkey!

- - - - - - - - - -

Just as he was dismissed from his shift a few days later, Simon heard his name being called.

"Firefighter Cook, could I have a word?" It was Station Officer Billings, the officer-in-charge of the station. Simon wondered what he'd done wrong.

Billings stepped into his office and around behind his desk. As he took his seat, Simon entered.

"Close the door." After Simon had done so, Billings told him, "We had a visitor here this morning."

Simon couldn't think of anything to say, since he had no idea what or who – "Oh!"

"I see you know who I mean. Sit down, Simon." The last was said in a less stern tone, and Simon gratefully sat.

"A Miss Simmons, it was. She came and asked for you by name, expecting to be able to speak to you. She seemed rather put out when she was told you were on duty and couldn't see her."

"Yes, sir. I wasn't expecting her to call around. Sir."

"Mmmm. She said you'd given her this station as 'where she could find you.' Could you please make plain to her that she can't find you here when you're on duty?"

Simon winced. Aloud, he simply said, "Yes, sir," but inside he was wondering what had made him tell Marianne she could find him here.

"Thank you. That's all."

Simon left the office and found John waiting for him.

"What'd you get bollocked for then?" he asked Simon.

"Marianne turned up this morning," Simon said glumly. "I didn't tell her not to come when I was on duty."

"Berk. Still, you get the chance to explain it quickly. She's here."

Simon jumped. "She is?" he squeaked, then repeated in a more normal voice, "I mean, she is?"

"Yup! She's waiting just outside. Now then," he said, brushing some imaginary dust off of Simon's collar, "be good, and don't play rough with all the other boys and girls."

"Yes, Mum, I mean no, Mum," Simon answered, distractedly. Then he walked, leaden-footed, to the door. He paused there, pulled himself together and opened the door.

Marianne was there.

She looked gorgeous. Her heart-shaped face and gorgeously permed curly-brown hair, her eyes, grey, intelligent, and sparkling now that she'd seen him, her elegant neck. She was wearing a long brown skirt, hiding her lovely legs, but the white top was almost translucent and Simon could see the darkness of her areolae behind it.

He stood there, gaping.

Marianne was smiling and moved towards him, but then pulled up short. "I didn't get you into trouble or anything, did I?" she asked, concerned.

"No, of course not," Simon answered, once he'd got his mouth moving again. "I was just asked not to invite you to the station when I was on duty." He was thinking furiously, but it was his mouth doing the thinking. "I think, in practice, that means I'd better give you my shift pattern, then you can meet me here as I come off duty."

Marianne punched him in the arm. "Oh? Are you taking me for granted, already?" She smiled, taking some of the sting out of her words, but Simon could tell she was a bit miffed.

"Sorry. Of course I don't take you for granted. But, um... Look! Do you want to go out with me?"

"Of course I do, silly! Why else would I come around to your station?"

Simon's smile felt like it would split his head. Marianne stepped closer, gripped his lapels, and whispered, "I'll do more than just go out with you, Simon. If you want."

He was left gaping again as she stepped back once more to appraise him. "My, you do look a fine figure in your uniform! Now," and she stepped to his side, swivelled and twined her arm in his, "where shall we go? I fancy a drink!"

She led him off to the Cross Keys, walking briskly, pulling him with her. Simon shook his head as he was led towards the pub, and slowly a broad smile crossed his face, the sort that said, 'I think I'm going to get lucky...'

They walked into the pub together. John was there already, having just sat down with a bunch of the others from Simon's shift. Marianne saw the men there. Some were still in uniform, others in civvies, and she made a bee-line for the group.

"Hello, boys," she said, and Simon groaned. He knew the effect that voice had on him, and what it would do when the others heard it...

But she went on, "I'm Marianne. I'm going out with Simon. He'll see you all later!" and she turned, took his hand and started walking off towards a corner of the bar where there was a table and two chairs.

"This is just perfect," she told him, "I'll have a glass of medium white wine, please."

Simon was still shocked at her brazen declaration to the other guys. They were hooting and hollering in the background, and there were a couple of wolf-whistles, but Marianne seemed to take it all in stride. He went to the bar, got Marianne's wine and his pint, and sat opposite, blankly staring at the cool, confident young woman who'd just taken over his life.

Marianne began telling Simon about how she'd woken up that morning, remembered it was her day off, and decided it was time to go and see him. "I thought I'd pop into town, do a little shopping and then come up and see you. I'm really sorry, I should have called ahead and found out when it would be possible."

"It's okay, honest," Simon replied.

They stuck to safe topics for a while – things they'd seen in the local paper, television, music and radio. Marianne was an excellent conversationalist, and Simon grew less conscious of being with her and simply enjoyed being with her.

It was easy enough to enjoy. Marianne was good company as well as exceedingly beautiful. Simon found that he was able to ignore the world around him and sink into those beautiful grey eyes.




Winter Fires Ch. 02



Simon leaned forward. "There's a film on at the Odeon tonight. I've not seen it before, but I've heard about it," he told her.

"The Rocky Horror Picture Show?" Marianne asked, eyes crinkling with humour. "I've heard that's a little... risqué."

Simon's smile increased in wattage. "Yeah... D'you fancy seeing it with me? We can get there in time tonight, if we go now."

"Sure!" Marianne replied, already getting up from the table. "I'd love to!"

It was a fairly lame excuse for a date, of course. Still, both of them enjoyed the film tremendously. It was sexy, camp and fun. He thought Susan Sarandon was wonderful as Janet and Marianne loved Tim Curry as Frank'n'Furter.

So they sat in the dark cinema, with some popcorn and a fizzy drink. Simon reached over and took Marianne's hand, and she turned to him and smiled. Soon she was cuddled against him as they watched, and he could feel the comforting warmth of her shoulder and arm against his. Simon thought they could have been watching anything and he'd have enjoyed it.

As The Professor was explaining how to do the Time Warp, Marianne let go of his hand. Simon felt the loss, but then she turned to him again, put one hand behind his head and leaned into him.

Her lips were warm, soft velvet. Her mouth opened and Simon felt her tongue, agile and quick, tasting his own lips, then exploring his mouth as he explored hers as the kiss deepened.

Simon didn't find out what happened next in the film; he and Marianne didn't part until the final credits were rolling. But when the lights came up they broke away flushed with passion, and in Simon's case slight embarrassment. He tried to stand quickly but found it difficult; feeling like everyone would look and see his erection. Marianne stood next to him with an amused expression.

They left the cinema arm in arm, and standing on the steps for a moment. Simon reached for Marianne and she came willingly into his arms again. They kissed once more, ignoring the world passing by around them, before Marianne reluctantly pulled away.

"I need to get home, Simon. Thanks for a lovely evening."

"Do you have to go now?" Simon asked. He winced as he heard the plaintive note in his voice.

Marianne grinned. "Yes, Simon, I do." Her face turned serious. "I've got work tomorrow, and I'm sure you do too, plus my Mother will be wondering where I've got to. I mean, I know I'm eighteen, but still she'll worry all the while I live at home with her. It's natural."

Simon noted the lack of a reference to her father. Not knowing what to say, he decided, in a rare moment of clarity, to say nothing. They began walking to the bus stop just around the corner from the cinema.

"I guess," said Simon. "It's natural for parents to want to protect a daughter, I suppose. Especially an only daughter."

She looked at him, sharply. "What made you say that, Simon?" she asked. There was something that Simon couldn't work out in her voice.

"Oh? Not an only child? It's just that you hadn't mentioned a brother or sister."

The bus drew up, and Simon got on and paid for their tickets. Fifteen pence each.

They took a pair of seats and Marianne resumed their conversation.

"I suppose I haven't. I've got a sister." She smiled a small, secretive smile. "We get on well together. She's a lot quieter than me."

"Is she like you otherwise?" Simon asked.

"Oh, yes. I think you could say that." Again, there was that small smile. "So, did you fancy Janet? Or, perhaps, Magenta?"

Simon grinned. "Oh, I think Susan Sarandon's sexy," he said, and took a cuff on his arm. He smiled wider. "It's the hair, I think."

She looked at him, quizzically.

"Let's just say that I bet she has more fun!"

That cost him another punch on his arm. "Ow, that hurt!" he told her, rubbing his bicep. "You deserved it!" she told him, but she was smiling as she said it. It was something he noticed about Marianne, she seemed to always be smiling, never sad.

They reached her stop, and got off. At her gate, they stood together for a moment.

"I really did enjoy tonight, Simon."

"I did too. When can we go out again?"

"I have a class at the college tomorrow night. I'm studying for my English 'A' level." At Simon's encouraging look, she went on, "I left at sixteen and have regretted it since then."

"What do you want to do? Do you know?"

"I'm just a secretary, at the moment. I want to progress, to do more. But this is the Civil Service we're talking about. I need formal qualifications before they'll look at me. I want to get my 'A' level, then see about doing an Open University degree. You?"

"I'm happy in the Brigade. I'll see where that takes me."

Once again that thousand-watt smile. Then she kissed him, a quick, no-nonsense peck – before leaning into him again. Their arms went around each other and the kiss went on, and on, until finally Marianne pulled away, breathless.

"I'll have to go, Simon. Call me Friday, about seven, if you can. We'll arrange something then. But call me!"

She pulled away, and he held onto her hand for a moment.

"I will, Marianne." She pulled free, turned and walked up the path towards her door. "I'll call!" he told her again. At her door, she turned, flashed him a brief smile that he could see even in the dim light, opened the door and quickly, she was gone.

Simon walked home. It was just over three miles, and a chilly evening, but he didn't notice the cold.

All through the walk back he was reliving the evening. In particular, he went over the taste of her soft, supple lips, the scent of her perfume, the warmth of her arm and shoulder against him, the feel of her breasts through their clothes...

'Marianne's amazing!' he thought, over and over.

He was still thinking that as, once more, he recalled her beauty in private later that night!

- - - - - - - - - -



Winter Fires Ch. 03



Chapter 3 

On Friday, at seven o'clock on the dot, Simon rang Marianne's number. A strange voice answered.

"Hello. May I help you?"

The voice was cultured, assured, deep yet feminine. Simon realized it must be Marianne's mother.

"Oh, hello. Um, it's Simon, can I speak to Marianne, please?"

"Hold on a moment, I'll see if she's here," came the answer. Simon thought it odd that her mother wouldn't know if she was there or not, but let it pass.

"Wait a moment, she's just coming to the phone," he heard. Then he heard the handset being passed over, before Marianne's voice came to him.

"Simon, hi! Right on time, I see!" she told him, chuckling.

"Yes, well, you did say tonight at seven," he answered.

"Uh-huh. Look, I've got a surprise for you. Can you pick me up here in an hour?"

"Surprise? Er, sure, I'll be there at eight then."

"I look forward to it!"





Winter Fires Ch. 03



When Marianne returned, Simon had stripped the top cover off. Marianne had located the washing basket (in the bathroom) and wordlessly took it from his arms. He grabbed another cover from his drawer and put it on, Marianne returning to help.

"Well, now, isn't this a picture? Normally I have to make your bed, Simon!"

Simon turned in shock to find his mother in the doorway, leaning against the frame, a smile on her face. "MUM!"

But his mother just looked at Marianne, smiling. "Hello, my ignorant son hasn't introduced us. I'm Jackie, his mother."

Marianne glanced at Simon, grinning at his discomfiture. "Hi Jackie, I'm Marianne. Um, I hope…"

"Oh, you're fine. It's lovely to see a girl with him, to be honest. I think you're the first one he's brought home. Unless he's sneaked some in that I haven't found out about. But I'm fairly sure I'd have noticed."

"MUM!"

"Oh, you would have done, I'm sure," Marianne returned, "if it wasn't the smell, or the noise, it would have been that sappy, satisfied I've-just-got-laid grin he has on his face. It'd be a dead giveaway."

"Marianne!" 

But he was grinning, now. "You two are far too much for me. My feeble masculinity is going to wilt under the attack, so I'm just going to surrender and go make some tea. You both want some?"

The two ladies in his life both nodded. Simon left, leaving them to make fun of him on their own.





Winter Fires Ch. 04



Two weeks later, Simon was still floating about six inches off the ground. He'd been teased by some of the crew, but mostly they'd seen just how happy he was, and grinned, leaving him to it.

Of course, the sight of Marianne waiting for him at the station didn't hurt. He thought she was amazingly pretty, and when she saw Simon her face would light up with a huge, bright smile. There was, of course, some undercurrent of jealousy, but these were people who liked Simon, and they couldn't help but react positively to Marianne.

Simon's mother, Jackie, was another who was only too pleased to see him sticking with a girl for more than a date or two. Already, as mothers do, she was thinking of Marianne as a potential future daughter. She hadn't said anything to Simon about it yet, but he knew, by the looks he'd been given, that his mum was hearing wedding bells.

Simon refused to let it worry him. Marianne was his girlfriend, and she was, quite simply, amazing.

It wasn't just the sex. Oh the sex was incredible, but Simon thought it was more than that. Marianne was wonderful to be with, to talk to – she was an excellent conversationalist. They also shared an interest in music, and even liked many of the same bands. Simon was overjoyed when she told him she loved Pink Floyd, in fact, as they were one of his favourite bands, too

Simon called round to Marianne's house, something he'd only done once before. Normally she came to meet him, but they were going out to dinner so they'd both needed to go home and change first.

John had teased him.

"Isn't it about time you got a car of your own, Simon? I mean, you drive the ruddy Fire Engine, for Chrissakes!"

"Probably one day, John. But I watch all you guys rushing out to get a place of your own, buying cars, and spending your money – while I'm stashing some money away, without any great project in mind, just in case I need it. And you know I'm gonna need it one day, everyone does. It doesn't hurt me to catch a bus every now and again."

"Aye – but it doesn't impress the girls, now, does it?"

"Why do I want to impress a girl when I've got Marianne?" Simon retorted, to which John could only say, "You've got her now."

Simon mulled this over as he pulled himself up to the upper deck of the bus. He'd managed to put enough away to get a car, if he needed to. He just didn't see that it was needed, just yet.

Arriving at the stop for Marianne's house, he put all that aside. Whistling, he practically danced to her house.

She was waiting for him at the door. She smiled as soon as she saw him, and reached behind the door to pick up her purse. She skipped down the path to meet him, and he lifted her up as they embraced, swinging her around and putting her back on the path. They kissed, then Simon said, "Shall we?"

Marianne answered, ""Sure. Where are we going?" as they walked off to the bus stop.

"Roberto's, down by the seafront," he told her. "It's just a short trip."

"I've not been in there before, though I've walked by it many times."

It was a short trip to their stop. Simon held Marianne's arm as they got off the bus.

"What sort of thing do they do here?" Marianne asked as they walked up to the building. It was red-brick, with green woodwork. A sign promoting an Italian ice-cream was displayed outside.

"Italian stuff. Spaghetti, that kind've thing. It's nice."

Indeed it was. The restaurant was fairly new, and yet quite old; an established restaurant that had been taken over by a new young chef.

Inside, white tablecloths, wineglasses and candles were set on each table along with the cutlery. Some soft, vaguely continental-sounding music was playing. The walls were decorated in white with a lot of mirrors hanging there, creating the illusion that the room was larger than it really was. It took a few minutes for Marianne to realise that there were only about a dozen tables in all.

The only other people eating in there were a slightly older guy with a younger girl, about the same age as Marianne. Simon puzzled over some of the names on the menu, but the waiter was helpful without being condescending and they were able to work their way through the order without too much trouble.

Marianne was having a seafood starter, while Simon opted for minestrone soup. Her main course was spaghetti in a carbonara sauce, something she'd not had before, while Simon opted for lasagna, which he was familiar with.

While they were eating Marianne was full of chatter, telling him various tales about the 'boys and girls at the office', while Simon told Marianne about the latest exploits of John and Patty. "So there they are, in the back of the mini, when the torch lights them up! Luckily the copper just grinned and told them to move on, but it gave John a fright, I can tell you!"

Marianne's smile lit up the room. "I can imagine! What did Patty think?"

"According to John, she was as frightened as he was at first. But then, when they got back to his place, she practically tore his clothes off – she said it was incredibly exciting. Can you believe that?"

"Patty seems to be a bit of an exhibitionist – I think she probably gets really turned on by the risk of being caught. As John found out, it seems!"

After they'd finished their mains and ordered their sweets – both opting for a simple ice-cream, though Simon wanted two scoops to Marianne's one – Simon got up to visit the toilet. On his return he saw the older guy talking to Marianne, while his companion waited to one side. She stood, shook his hand and smiled as he turned to leave. Simon watched as the man patted his young friend on the bum. She, in turn, skipped away and poked her tongue out at him, and they both laughed as they walked away.

"What was that all about?" Simon asked as he sat down.

"Oh, he's a photographer and said he thought I'd make a good model. He gave me his card, look."

Indeed he had. "Chris Feelgood, CAT studio," it read, with an address in the town centre, near to the War Memorial.

"Do you think it's legit?" Simon asked, sceptically. "He probably just wants to get you out of your clothes. I've heard of people like that."

"The girl he was with was a model, she said. She told me Chris was really good."

"Yeah, well, she's probably in cahoots with him. I'd be very careful if I were you."

Marianne gave him a sharp look, but said nothing.

After the meal was over and they'd ridden the bus home, she turned to him and asked, "Don't you think I'm pretty enough to be a model?"

"Of course you are!" he replied, then bit his lip. Jealousy and fear warred with honesty and his innate sense of fair play. Honesty won. "I think you'd be a really good model, actually, Marianne. Perhaps you should look into it?" His voice faltered a little at the last.

Marianne, took him into her arms and kissed him. "Perhaps I will. Wouldn't you like to be going out with a famous model?" She pulled away and twirled for him, finishing up with a saucy look with one finger by her mouth. "Do you think I'm sexy enough?" she pouted.

"God, yes!"

- - - - - - - - - -

"Hi, I'm home!" called Marianne as she walked in through the door.

"Hi, darling," her mother called from the kitchen, "Did you have a nice time?"

"Yes, did you have a nice time?" asked Caroline, smirking, as Marianne walked into the living room.

"I'll have you know that we just went out for a very nice meal. Simon's got an early shift tomorrow," came the reply. "But the kiss goodnight was really nice!"

"Ooh, only a kiss? You'll be frustrated at this rate!" retorted Caroline.

Marianne regarded her sister. It was like looking in the mirror – she was her identical twin sister. They were, obviously, really close. They were alike in more than just looks, as well, though Marianne was the dominant twin. They picked up on each other's thoughts with the ease of completely knowing the other person, and it wasn't until they were separated that the differences between them came to the fore.

Caroline was working as a waitress in a factory canteen, where she liked to blend in to the background. She was quieter, less outgoing than her sister. But both were passionate, fiery lovers when roused, the differences were more in their ease with strangers. Caroline was less self-assured, where Marianne simply shone.

"Hmph! I was looking forward to hearing another tale of wanton debauchery, but I guess I'll be better off reading my book, then!" Caroline told her sister. Marianne simply poked her tongue out.

Their mother walked in.

"Did you have a nice time tonight, Marianne? I'll assume you're not hungry!"

"You've asked me already, Mum! I had a great time, thanks, –"

"And she's already eaten – "

"It was really nice – "

"Yeah, and this time it was actually food!"

"Girls!" Tina exclaimed. All three promptly fell into laughter.

"You two will be the death of me, you know," Tina told them, once she'd calmed down.

"Hey, it's not like we don't take after you," Caroline told her mother.

"What's his name, Bill – "

"At the sofa factory – "

"In soft furnishings – "

"More like hardware, so I heard!"

"Girls, Bill is a perfectly good lover, but he'll never replace your father in that regard, or any other!"

"Do we want to know more about Dad with Mum?" asked Marianne of her sister.

"Eeuww!" Caroline replied.

"Yeah, it is slightly icky..." Marianne was quiet for a few seconds.

"...But I bet you were at it like minks!"

"Caroline!" shouted Marianne and her mother in unison. Then they all fell about laughing again.

They sat and watched the late news on television before going to bed.

"Cari, fetch me a glass of water?" Marianne not-quite-ordered. Caroline stood, but before she could move further her mother interrupted.

"Marianne! We've spoken about this," she told her daughter, firmly.

Marianne sighed, said, "Sorry, mum. Sorry Cari," and went to get her own glass of water. Caroline looked at her mother.

"She's too quick to just assume that you'll do as she tells you, and you, young lady, need to grow a backbone and stand up for yourself."

"Oh, mum, you know it's always been like this. She tells me what to do and I do it. She's the one who's bright and outgoing and confident, I'm not."

Ever since they could remember it had been she who'd decided things between them, though an outsider – anyone but the two of them and their mother – often couldn't tell. That not-quite-telepathic knowledge they shared of each other meant that Caroline often anticipated Marianne's 'requests'. Over the years, the dominant/subservient roles they'd developed had become ingrained, natural.

But Tina wasn't happy with that. She felt that Marianne had reached the point of taking advantage of her younger sister – younger by just a few minutes, of course.

"Caroline, you know I love you both, but it frustrates me no end when I see you kow-towing to Marianne's orders. I'm sure you'd lick her feet if she told you to."

"Oh, mum, it's not as bad as that."

"Humph. You ought to see yourselves, sometimes."

Marianne came back into the room.

"I'm off to bed now Mum, Cari. See you in the morning."

"Okay, darling," her mother answered, at the same time as Caroline replied, "You too, Mari!"

"I'm off to bed as well, Caroline. Remember what I said, love. Don't forget you're no different to her, literally. You're both beautiful young ladies. I love you both, but I wish you'd stand up to her sometimes!"

"Yes, Mum," Caroline answered. But inside, she thought, 'If only it was as easy as that!'

- - - - - - - - - -

A few days later, Simon called around to pick up Marianne from her home again.

The previous day, he and John had once again been called to a harrowing incident. It was a house fire in which two young children had died, despite first the father's and later the fire crew's desperate attempts to reach them. One had died at the scene, the other had been barely alive when they'd got to her but had died in the ambulance en route to the hospital.

Once again it had hit both men hard. John was better able to cope than Simon, but neither had been feeling like going out. They, Patty and Marianne had shared a quiet evening together down at the 'Cross Keys'. Little had been said beyond the bare bones, but it had been enough to bring tears to both girls' eyes.

Tonight, Simon was determined not to let that spoil his evening together with Marianne. She'd suggested a walk up to the top of East Hill.

"We can go up the Friendship Path," she'd told him. Simon hadn't been there before, despite living in the town. He was looking forward to spending the time alone with Marianne, walking in the open air.

Simon knocked on the door. He waited a moment and when the door was opened he smiled and said, "Hi Marianne." He looked harder, then, hesitantly continued, "Marianne? Er, are you ready?"

The girl stared at him for a moment, then blushed a very pretty red.

"I'll get her for you," she told him, "come in and wait here?" leaving the door open, she turned and disappeared.

Confused, Simon walked in and said, "Marianne?"

Marianne descended the staircase and said to him, "I see you've met my sister, Caroline!"

"Sister?" said Simon, confused.

"Twin sister," Marianne told him, smirking.

"Twins?" Simon spluttered as Marianne picked up her purse and a light jacket.

"Yes, Simon. Coming?" She sauntered close to him, pecked him on the cheek, turned and bounced out of the door.

- - - - - - - - - -

That night, Caroline appeared in the doorway to Marianne's room.

"Marianne," she quietly asked her sister, "Can I come in?"

"Mmmm?"

Caroline walked softly into her sister's room and sat on the edge of the bed. Marianne folded the book she'd been reading and replaced it on her bedside table. She scooted up in the bed and drew the covers up a little – she slept naked, and didn't want her sister to see. Well, she had to maintain the illusion that she didn't want her sister to see, anyway – keep up the proprieties and such.

Caroline, oblivious, wasn't really looking at her sister anyway. She lay back against Marianne's legs, her cheek resting on her sister's abdomen through the covers.

"What's Simon like?" she asked.

"What's he like? He's funny, and shy, yet he's brave and fit as well. Physically he ticks my boxes, that's for sure. Why? Do you fancy him, Caroline?"

"I recognised him," Caroline answered.

"You'd seen him bef – Oh! He was your fireman! Are you sure?"

Marianne knew about this. Caroline had battered her ears with her talk of the good looking young fireman who'd carried her out of the fire at the café.

"Oh, yes, Marianne! I'm totally sure! Those eyes, that hair, those cheekbones, and those lips! Oh, I've dreamt of kissing those lips again! But you went and found him first!"

The last sentence was somewhat of an accusation, and Marianne retorted, "Well, you never went to try and find him, did you? How was I to know that he'd turn out to be your one?"

She went on, more sweetly, "Besides, Cari, Simon's not yours. He's mine. My boyfriend. You remember we agreed before we first started dating, and why?"

Indeed Caroline did. In the playground, once, they'd both wanted to kiss the same boy, Jonathon. They'd fought and marked each other up – and the boy had been 'snapped up' by a girl from a different class. And their mum had grounded them for a week!

"Yes, Jonathon got away from us both."

"Well, I got him the next term!" Marianne sniggered.

"And then you passed him onto me!" Caroline laughed.

That had set a pattern. Not always, but often, Marianne would go for a boy – at first just furtive kisses in the playground, later with heavier content – and then, when she'd had enough of him, she'd pass him down to her sister. 

"You like it like that!" Marianne told her sister.

It was true that Caroline hadn't minded. It meant the boys were 'broken in' by the time they got to her.

But the last couple of times it had happened, the boy had wanted more from Caroline, far faster than she was sure she was comfortable with. She'd gone along with it, but it had poisoned the relationship both times – and she'd dumped the guy after less than a couple of weeks.

Marianne picked up on her sister's distress.

"Cari? Talk to me?"

Caroline just shook her head and kissed her sister's cheek. She got up and quickly went to the doorway, where she paused. "'Night, Mari."

"G'night, Cari."

Marianne knew that her sister wasn't being fully open with her. It had happened before, and always meant that something was wrong, and they'd both ended up being hurt.

- - - - - - - - - -



Winter Fires Ch. 05



"The Floyd are going to be at Knebworth!" Simon told Marianne a few days later.

It was an early evening after Simon had worked a long shift, and he was unwinding. They were in the 'Cross Keys', at one of the tables. Simon had a beer, Marianne was drinking her customary white wine. He was holding a copy of New Musical Express, the legendary newspaper of the rock scene, pointing to an advert showing that Pink Floyd would be headlining the next festival at Knebworth.

"Great!" Marianne responded, "do you think we'll be able to get tickets?"

"Can but try, I guess!" Simon told her. "It says here 'Tickets available by post', and that they're £2.75 each in advance or £3.50 on the day – but we won't wait, this'll sell out in no time."

Marianne took a sip of her wine before saying, "Right. How old's that NME?"

Simon checked the date at the top of the page.

"Day before yesterday's. Not too bad I guess…"

Marianne considered for a moment, then said, decisively, "Okay. Finish your drink and we'll go and get a letter and cheque in the post tonight. I agree with you, I think they'll sell out in no time and I'm not going to miss out on the chance if I can help it!"

She stood, drank her wine in two long gulps and gestured to Simon to finish his. His pint disappeared quickly as well. He took her offered glass, put it back on the bar and said "Good night!" to Betty, the barmaid, before opening the door to allow Marianne to precede him out into the open air.

He said nothing about one band he'd seen on the list for the festival: Rocksette would be playing there.





Winter Fires Ch. 05



Marianne stopped and waited for Simon to say something else. He kept her waiting while he sorted through his feelings.

"What sort of photographs, Marianne?"

Now she looked Simon defiantly in the eye.

"Glamour photographs, Simon.

Simon chewed on this for another long moment.

"You want to be photographed in the nude? You want to do porn?

"No, not porn. Well, in a bikini, or topless, like the girls on Page 3."

Simon was silent a little longer, thinking about how he'd feel about this. On one hand, it was very arousing, but on the other he could feel jealousy rising.

"Simon? I really want to do this, you know? I just didn't want to upset you by telling you afterwards."

She paused, then went on, "Are you okay?"

"I… I think so, Marianne. If it's what you want to do, then fine, do it. I can just hear some of the guys at the station, though. And what about your family? What are they going to think? And your workmates?"

"Mum and Cari will be fine with it, don't worry – Mum probably more than Caroline. I don't care what the guys at your station think, though they'll probably be envious of you, actually. And everyone else? Fuck 'em! Just fuck 'em!"

Simon physically recoiled a little, taken aback by her vehemence. Marianne grinned at him, but then her expression turned to concern. She asked him, "So, are you really okay with it?"

Simon could see just how much she wanted his approval, and made his mind up. "Yes, Marianne my sweet sexy one, I'm okay with it."

Marianne squealed as she grabbed him, nearly toppling them off the wall. "Thank you! Thankyouthankyouthankyou! I'll thank you properly when I can get you alone, but for now…"

The kiss they shared then should have melted the stone of the wall.

It was only later that Simon wondered how she'd known what sort of photographs were taken at the studio.



Winter Fires Ch. 06



Less than a week later Marianne got out of the taxi outside CAT studio.

From the outside, it looked like a small slightly run-down photographic shop in a terrace of similarly sized (and similarly run-down) shops. There was a small display of second-hand cameras, and a variety of different films for compact 'Instamatic', 35mm and larger format cameras.

Marianne went in and the shop bell rang. She looked around, seeing a variety of different photographic albums for sale as well as some more cameras and lenses. An older lady came into the shop from the back, went to the counter and asked, "Hello, how may I help you?"

"I'm, um, here to see Chris about some modelling?"

"Oh, you'd be Marianne?" When Marianne nodded the lady continued, "He mentioned that you'd be coming this afternoon. I'll take you through to the studio."

She led Marianne through the back into a short corridor. The walls had long ago been painted a pale cream colour, but were now largely covered in large photographs of shoes, pens, buildings, bottles and other objects in some quite creative lighting. All were pin-sharp and clearly professional.

"I'm Chris's mother, Linda, by the way."

"It's lovely to meet you, Linda," Marianne replied as they turned left at the bottom of a short flight of steps. Linda knocked on the door at the end and called out, "Chris? Marianne's here."

"Okay, you can come through" Marianne heard through the door. Linda opened it and invited Marianne to follow her in.

At first, the room looked quite dark. Marianne's eyes were drawn immediately to a young woman 'on stage', wearing a short robe and relaxing on a small chair. Her blonde hair glowed in the bright light. As her eyes adjusted, more detail could be picked out in the rest of the large space – about the size of a small village hall, with a tall ceiling easily big enough to accommodate the overhead light on it's counterweighted pole.

"Thanks, Mum. Hello, Marianne, it's lovely to meet you again," Chris, the photographer, told her. "This is Pearl, she's an experienced model who I've known for years – she'll help you with your makeup and such, and give you some help with the poses if you need it."

"Hi, Marianne," Pearl said, coming over to meet her. As she moved Marianne was a little taken aback to find that the robe was covering nothing but Pearl.

"Sorry!" Pearl said, closing up the robe. "We were just trying out a few new shots."

"That's okay... um, I'm not sure I can do that, straight off..."

Chris quickly put her mind at ease, saying, "You don't have to pose nude, Marianne. That's not the purpose of today's shoot at all. I just want to see how you look, how you react, in front of a camera, how you respond to direction and whether or not you bring that extra 'something' with you in the lens. It's hard to know beforehand, though of course you do look wonderful, which is always a good sign!"

"And part of my job today is to put you at ease, and I've done the opposite. Sorry, again, but don't worry, you'll love it!" Pearl told her, before whisking her off to the small curtained-off model's changing room.

"I've known Chris for over five years, he's a really good photographer. If he'd move to London he could be quite famous, but he's determined to stay here for some reason," Pearl said as she thoroughly cleansed Marianne's face. She deftly applied makeup as she went on, "He's really nice, but don't be afraid to answer him back! Also, say when you've had enough – he's a workaholic once he gets going. Linda normally makes sure he keeps to times, though."

Pearl stood back and turned Marianne to face the mirror. "What do you think?"

Marianne looked at the face in the mirror. She was now wearing a little more makeup than she usually did, but it wasn't the amount, it was the way it had been applied. She looked really good!

"That's amazing! How did you learn to do that?" she asked Pearl.

"Oh, it's just one of the things I've picked up along the way," she told Marianne." Just then they heard Chris' voice:

"Hello, is there a model in the house?"

Pearl smiled. "Our master calls! Best we get you out there, Marianne, before he threatens us with all kinds of punishments!"

Pearl stood, drew back the curtains and led Marianne to the centre of the staged area. It stood perhaps three inches above the rest of the studio, a clean, plain floor.

"I thought we'd start with some simple portrait shots, Marianne, so all you've got to do is sit on the stool and look pretty. You can look pretty, can't you?" he asked her, teasingly.

"Oh, shut up you, you'll put her off!" Pearl told him, sticking out her tongue.

"I hope you're going to use that!" he told her with a smile, and Pearl smacked his arm, playfully.

Soon afterwards, Marianne was sat upon the stool. Chris had pulled two lights fairly close together in front of her, and had placed the other two sidelights to light the backdrop behind; the toplight was just off-centre on her hair. After checking the light with a meter, Chris nodded to himself as if he'd merely confirmed what he already knew, then shot a Polaroid first and showed it to her. Marianne was a bit distracted by the flash, and knew she'd shut her eyes.

"It helps if you close your eyes for a few moments just before, and then open them wide, Marianne," Pearl told her. They did it again, and this time Marianne was able to avoid the blink.

"See how great you look?" Chris asked her, showing her the Polaroid, and Marianne could only agree.

Then he went back to his camera – A large, boxy one that he looked down into. "Look at me, chin down a little..." Flash! "Excellent! Now slightly to one side..."

An hour later Marianne was getting into the taxi that would take her home. She had several Polaroids, including a couple of her in a short dress, and also one of her in a skimpy bikini that looked really sexy. Chris had promised that he'd present her with a folder full of photographs once they'd come back from the local laboratory.

"When we do a real commercial shoot I'll use transparency film, but for the test shoot colour neg's fine and it's easier, too. I expect I'll do some black 'n whites soon as well – those I can process myself, so you'll see them more quickly after the shoot."

"Process them yourself, huh? What sort of pictures do you shoot in black and white, then?" Marianne had asked him with a half-smile, half grimace on her face.

Chris had looked pained. "No, not porn. I don't do that. But, yes, I do full nude shoots. The sort of thing that gets hung on the wall at exhibitions – fine art, they're called. Some of them can be erotic, but there's only the model there, no-one else, and I don't do the really graphic stuff."

Then he'd shown her one of the pictures he meant. 

The black-and-white print showed Pearl, naked, standing against a plain backdrop. She was lit mainly from one side, highlighting her jutting breasts with their erect nipples. Her weight was on one leg, turned slightly away from the camera, looking proud, predatory. It was a wonderful photograph, sensual without being tawdry.

"See?"

'Oh, yes,' thought Marianne, 'I see all right. If I can look half as good as that...'

- - - - - - - - - -

Marianne waited for Simon that evening in the 'Cross Keys'.

"How'd it go?" he asked her, sitting next to her after getting his pint.

"Ooh, it was so much fun!" Marianne told him. They kissed, and then she shyly handed over an envelope.

"See what you think, Simon..."

Simon looked at the Polaroids. Twice. Each.

"These are really good, Marianne. Really good. Are there any more?"

"Oh, there'll be a whole bunch of them to come once they're developed. Chris said it would be a few days."

"Nothing... racier?"

"Would you like there to be, Simon?" she asked him, eyebrows arched.

"Nonono, I was just asking," he replied, blushing to the roots of his hair.

Marianne leaned in close and whispered into his ear.

"Chris did ask if I was okay with topless work. I told him I'd even consider nude stuff, depending on how raunchy he wanted to get. He's shown me an example of what he does, nude I mean. There was a really lovely girl there with me today, a girl named Pearl. He'd shot her, nude, just standing there, looking amazing. I'd love to look like that. I'd bet that you'd love for me to show you..."

She pulled away from him, and giggled at his obvious response, hand in front of face. Then she drank her white wine, quickly, gesturing impatiently to Simon to sink his pint as well.

Simon chuckled at her eagerness and did so, quickly.

In his room that night Marianne did her best to duplicate the pose that Pearl had used.

Their lovemaking was ardent indeed!

- - - - - - - - - -

It was almost two weeks later. Simon came off-shift at mid-day, looking forward to meeting Marianne and enjoying an afternoon with her.

He raced home and had a bath, a shave and generally fixed himself up. He was almost ready when he heard the phone ring downstairs. While trying to comb his unruly hair he could hear his mother answer the phone, but couldn't make out what was said until his mother called up to him.

"Simon? Could you come to the phone, dear? It's Marianne."

"Coming!" he called and rushed down to the phone. He took it from his mother with a grateful glance and said into the mouthpiece, "Hello gorgeous! Wassup?"

"Simon? Would you mind terribly if I didn't see you this afternoon after all? Chris just rang and told me there's a modelling opportunity come up – but it's this afternoon. A real shoot, for some advert or other, some client who makes beach toys. Chris is going to take me to Camber and get the shoot done on location."

Simon just stood there, phone in hand, unable to speak.

"Simon? You still there?"

"Yes, yes, Marianne, I'm still here."

"Do you mind?"

There was another pause, before Simon answered, "No, no, of course not, Marianne. Off you go – enjoy yourself."

He heard Marianne's excited voice scratchily from the phone, "Oh, thank you, Simon, thank you. I'll see you tonight, or if it runs late, it'll probably be tomorrow. See you!"

He heard the 'click' of the phone going down as he said, "See you, love," and knew that she hadn't heard him.

Of course, he'd been unable to say that she shouldn't go. But he'd been slumped over his third pint of the evening when John and Patty had found him.

"Simon? Are you all right? Where's Marianne?" John asked him. Simon saw both his friend and the pretty girl with him looking worriedly at him. Simon had had enough to drink to dull the pain, but not enough to make him drunk.

So he explained to them where Marianne was – posing for a camera somewhere, on a real paid-for shoot. "I'm pleased for her, honest," he told them, "but it was a really last-minute thing." He lowered his face to the mug of beer he was holding and continued, almost too quietly to be heard, "I miss her. I think I'm going to lose her."

John clapped him on the shoulder. "Don't be a dunce, Simon. She's pretty enough to model, and she's enjoying doing something new – that's all. You know, it sounds and looks to me like you're actually jealous. Have you any idea how stupid that is?"

"Huh?" was Simon's witty comeback.

"Simon, Marianne's not going to do anything silly," Patty told him, gently, with a warning glance at her boyfriend. "This is a proper commercial shoot, you said? In that case, it'll be all above board. I expect she'll be too tired to want to do anything but crawl into a hot bath, followed by bed. Did you tell her where to ring?"

Simon thought back, a little hazily. "No, I don't think I did."

"She'll probably ring your home, then. Go home and get an early – well, early-ish – night, Simon. She'll see you soon enough."

Simon allowed himself to be pulled up and packed off home. "Are you sure you'll be okay?" Patty asked him.

He was able to tell her, "Yes, I'm fine," and navigate a straight line without too much concentration, so John and Patty let him go.

He arrived home without incident. "Simon, is that you?" he heard his mother call.

"Who else?" he answered, with a faint trace of humour.

She bustled into the hallway. "Marianne called about ten minutes ago. She's just got back from Camber and she sounded excited but tired, poor love. She said she's going straight to bed and she'd see you tomorrow night."

Simon smiled at his mother. Now he felt tired too, as the emotion and the alcohol allied to a full shift caught up with him at last. "Thanks, mum. I'll see you tomorrow, too, I'm going to bed."

"Before you go, you've had some mail."

She handed Simon a letter. He looked at it – it was hand addressed, but he didn't recognise the writing. His mother gave him a quizzical look.

"I dunno who it's from. I'll read it upstairs. Thanks, Mum."

"Goodnight then, son."

Simon climbed the first step, then stopped, looking back at his mother.

"Dad working the late shift again?"

"I'm afraid so, but at least he has work," his mother answered, worry plain in her expression.

"He'll be okay, mum. You'll see. Goodnight."

Upstairs, he opened the letter. It was from Alison.

"Dear Simon,

Thanks for sending me a letter. I get very few – most people say they'll write, but never do. I haven't forgotten 'Sensations', or afterwards!

I don't know if you've seen, but we'll be playing Knebworth at the festival in July. If you're able to make it, I'd love to see you after the show at the party. Just ask for Horace at the Roebuck in Stevenage, and say Alison asked for you. They'll let you in.

Alison."

- - - - - - - - - -

The following evening Simon came off-shift and met Marianne, who was waiting for him outside the station.

"Ooh, I can't wait to tell you about the photoshoot!" she told him, hugging one of his arms. She planted a big wet kiss on his lips and chattered on, "Chris picked me up in his Stag. It's beautiful! We drove out to Camber and he introduced me to the client, a nice older gent in a navy blue suit and tie, really old fashioned he was. I had to change into a bikini – they rented one of the beach huts for the day, so I had somewhere to change – and Chris had me prancing about playing with inflatable beds, umbrellas, cavorting around a picnic table, all sorts of stuff like that...

"Then Chris had me change into another bikini and we did some more shots down on the beach, playing with a beach ball, and an inflatable ring, and stuff like that, sometimes in the water. Ooh, it was still pretty cold! We had to keep asking people not to get in the shot, as it's a public beach. It was embarrassing sometimes, posing the way he wanted with people looking on, but enormous fun!

"Then the client wanted some more shots up by the beach hut, so I changed again and had to sit looking sophisticated – in a bikini, I ask you! – at a table sucking drinks out of a glass with a complicated knotted glass straw. I think I drank enough orange juice to last me a week! Chris took loads more shots, he's really good at directing, and I seemed to please him 'cos he kept saying how good it looked when I posed as he'd asked..."

Throughout the monologue Simon had held onto the beautiful, animated brunette who was talking his ear off. A smile crept over his face as she went on, and on, about Chris, the car, Chris, the client, Chris, the poses, Chris, the equipment, Chris...

"I get it, Marianne!" he finally interrupted. He turned her, pulled her to him and kissed her, deeply. When they finally drew apart, accompanied by applause and raucous calls and whistles from his colleagues, they were both wide-eyed and breathless.

"Let's go to your place, Simon," Marianne purred. She linked her arm into his and they set off, quickly.

- - - - - - - - - -

Once in his room, Marianne surprised Simon.

"Would you like to see how I posed today?"

"Ye-yeah, I guess..." he stammered.

"I'll have to change... oh. There's no beach hut. I suppose I'll have to change in front of you, then."

She lasciviously pulled first one strap of her sundress and then the other over her shoulders, shimmied and shook a moment, letting the yellow fabric slither down to pool at her feet. Underneath, she was wearing a small white bra with delicate, frilly edging, and a matching pair of white panties. Her erect nipples, clearly visible as they tented the fabric, betrayed her arousal. They were shortly joined by a similar, larger tent in Simon's trousers as he realised he could see her lower lips, under her neatly trimmed bush, through the translucent material.

Marianne licked her lips. Simon swallowed. She bent down, barely flexing one knee to unfasten her shoe, kicking it off before changing legs and repeating the job. Then she stood, looked Simon directly in the eyes and reached behind herself. Suddenly her bra was loose; deftly she slid it over her arms. Simon lost track of it after that, mesmerised by the sight of her beautiful breasts once more.

Marianne waited a moment. Simon wanted to say something, anything to make her continue, but she stood there, weight on one leg, one knee in front of the other and hands on hips. She forced eye contact with Simon again and a long, long moment later, slipped her thumbs into the waistband of her knickers and slowly pulled them down. She kept her eyes on Simon's all the time, daring him to look elsewhere.

Once they were fully down she stood straight once more, stepped out of them and kicked them away with a contemptuous flick of her foot. Then she walked towards Simon, her carriage erect, her movement as powerful and graceful as those of a lioness. She extended an arm, placing one finger under his chin, closing his mouth with a snap. "You're drooling, dear," she purred.

Abruptly Simon stood and ducked under her body, lifting her quickly and easily into a firemen's carry over his shoulder. He swivelled and tossed her onto the bed before falling next to her. Her giggle was silenced as he crushed her mouth to his.

They broke apart once more so that Marianne could lift his shirt over his head before rejoining in the passionate kiss. Finally Simon could wait no longer, he undid his belt without removing his lips from hers. Marianne's hand joined his and they fumbled with the zip before he let her do the honours, while he kicked his shoes off. He felt her pull away and mutter, "Fuck it!" before she pulled his trousers down and off. His underwear joined them moments later and they once more joined together in the kiss, their hands now roaming freely over each other. He could smell her scent, sharp, invigorating, and quickly reversed himself so that he could investigate the source.

He found Marianne's opening flowered, engorged and pink, glistening with her juices. He felt her reach for his manhood, beginning to stroke it's full hard length. He leaned forward and slid his tongue over the glistening pinkness before him, inhaling her scent and tasting the sharp, sweet/salt juices.

Marianne pulled him into a sixty-nine and while she licked and sucked, Simon inserted first one finger, then another into her, twisting and plunging, feeling for the small indentation that would give her most pleasure. He licked down one side in the crease between inner lip and outer, and then the other, building up the joy for his girlfriend before he began to lick around her engorged clit, now peeking out from its hood.

He felt Marianne's loss of coordination as her orgasm began, and her belly fluttered. Now Simon really went to town on her clitoris, tongue fluttering, his fingers crooked, rubbing her G-spot inside, his face and hand slippery with her juices and his saliva. Marianne peaked, her muscles spasming, lifting her buttocks clear before she finally fell back to the bed.




Winter Fires Ch. 06



Now Simon really could not wait any longer. He moved between Marianne's legs and she retained enough awareness to relax them, spreading herself, offering her body for his enjoyment, their enjoyment. He didn't think he'd ever been so excited as he moved the thick, purple head of his penis around Marianne's lips, teasing them both for a moment before fitting the head into Marianne and slowly plundering her depths.

Marianne had never felt so hot, so slick and so wonderful. He tried to take things slowly, to think of her pleasure. But he was so worked up it simply wasn't going to happen... Simon mustered his willpower and buried himself in Marianne, holding himself as still as he could, waiting for the crisis to pass. Marianne, understanding, held herself still as well, reaching up to his face to brush an errant skein of hair away from his eye. A look combining love and understanding went between them before Marianne pulled him down to her, kissing him. Then he began to move within her once more, but she stopped him after a minute or two.

"Let's do it doggy style," she urged him. He grinned in agreement and she quickly went to her knees before him, resting on her forearms. "Quickly, Simon!" she urged. Simon needed no such prompting. They adjusted their bodies to match heights and he grasped his penis by the base, searching for and finding her opening, sliding in to full depth in one long, steady stroke. "Hard, Simon!" Marianne pleaded, and Simon was only too willing to oblige her, pounding away at her backside. The sound of flesh slapping flesh and their grunts and gasps became the soundtrack to their lust.

Simon was far gone, now, his awareness of such things slipping away, his mind concentrating on increasing his pleasure and hers. He was dimply aware of Marianne falling on to her face, head to one side, gasping, making "Oh! Oh! Oh!" sounds with each thrust as he hammered his way into her.

But the change of position made it awkward for him, so he pulled out and turned her. She flipped herself over and pulled her legs apart. Simon grabbed them, pulled one leg over each shoulder and pushed himself home again, feeling the wet heat envelope him once more. Now folded almost in half, Marianne's breath truly came in gasps but Simon's orgasm was soon no longer to be denied.

He felt it coming from the very tips of toes and fingers, drawing in until the only thing he was aware of was the need to thrust himself as far into Marianne's cunt as her could, holding his prick inside her, driving in a few millimetres more with each pulse as he came, and came, and came.

After what felt like forever he relaxed and let Marianne's legs fall. She smiled, still looking dazed and far away but happy, and reached up to him. He let himself down to kiss her, then rolled to one side, withdrawing in the process. They cuddled for a while, not speaking, letting their breathing return to normal before Marianne was the first to break the spell.

"Wow," she said, breathlessly.

"Yeah," Simon answered. He knew exactly what she meant but hadn't been able to put into words. That had been the best sexual experience of his life.

"I'm still tingling," Marianne said, wonderingly. "Simon, that was... amazing!" She took his face in her hands and kissed him. "When did you become the 'Sex God'?"

Simon grunted. "I don't think I am, but whatever I've learned, sweetheart, you've been the most amazing teacher," he told her. He needed to kiss her again, so he began to move towards her, but it was Marianne who completed the movement, crushing her lips to his.

When they finally broke apart, Marianne snuggled into his chest and cuddled him some more. Simon lay there, feeling her warmth, amazed once more that she could stir such passion in him.

He shut his eyes. Gradually his breathing slowed and became even. 'When should I tell her that I love her?' he wondered, just before he fell to sleep.

But his last thought was 'What about Alison?'

- - - - - - - - - -



Winter Fires Ch. 07



Chapter 7 

"You really ought to try it, you know, Cari," Marianne told her sister.

"Oh, I couldn't!"

"Of course you could! I did!"

Caroline turned to her mother, pleading, "Mum, you know. I can't model in front of a camera!"

But Tina didn't agree. "Whyever not, Caroline? You can't say you haven't the looks, after all!"

"Well, no, but…"

"No 'buts' young lady! This is that self-esteem thing we were talking about! Your sister has made a really good suggestion, it seems to me. Why not give it a go?"

"Awww, Mum!"

But Tina looked sternly at her daughter. "Can you give me a real reason why you can't but your sister can?" she asked her in a firm voice.

"No," Caroline answered her in a small voice after a minute of looking down at her hands. "But I know I won't be any good."

Tina's expression softened, and she told her daughter, "Of course you will be, Caroline. Your sister will be there to help you, won't you Marianne?"

"Of course! This is going to be so cool!" Marianne enthused.

Caroline made one last try.

"He'll probably not want to have me along anyway," she said, in a final attempt at rebellion.

"Are you kidding!?" her sister said, astonished. "Twins that look like us? He'll be foaming at the mouth!"

Indeed, it was only two evenings later that Marianne and Caroline were both getting out of a taxi at CAT studio. At Caroline's insistence Simon was going with them.

Once more Marianne was greeted by Linda, but this time the two girls got the common reaction that they'd had so many times before. Linda

looked from one to the other several times, and finally laughed, "Okay, which of you is Marianne?"

"That'd be me!" Marianne said through a wide smile, "Linda, this is my sister Caroline, and Cari, this is Chris' mum, Linda."

"Lovely to meet you," Caroline said politely.

"And this is my boyfriend Simon. He's a fireman!" Marianne told the older woman, who gushed a little and shook his hand. Simon smiled and told her, "I'm here to make sure no big bad photographer assaults my girlfriend's sister!" which drew a hearty laugh from Linda.

Linda smiled and hugged Caroline before saying, "Come on then girls, Simon, Chris is downstairs in the studio."

Marianne and Tina had taken particular trouble with Caroline's makeup that afternoon after she'd come home from work. They'd wanted to do the best they could to boost her self-confidence, and it had worked to an extent. But now Caroline was feeling increasingly uneasy. Unlike her outgoing sister Caroline hated having her photo taken. She always had. Their parents had always insisted on taking photographs of the twins together, but wherever possible Caroline had scurried away as soon as was polite.

Marianne, on the other hand, was in her element. She ran up to Chris and planted a big kiss on his cheek before turning back to her sister and introducing her to the short, skinny photographer.

"And this is Simon, Chris," she told him, pulling her boyfriend forward. The two men shook hands.

"This is likely to be a bit boring for you I'm afraid, Simon," Chris told him, "but there's plenty of tea in the caddy if you want to make some."

Simon grinned. "Okay, I'll be the tea-boy, then!" and went off to make them all something hot to drink.

Marianne stood close by Chris, looking at some of the prints he was sorting through. Caroline was bouncing from one foot to the other.

Chris, noting Caroline's nervousness, changed his mind about what sort of photos to take instantly. Instead of a shoot involving skimpy bikinis against a blue-sky-and-clouds background he decided to do some simple portrait work first, to include both girls.

As the first pictures were taken, Caroline began to thaw a little. Chris then took some of her on her own.

Eventually he'd managed to shoot two rolls of film, some of Caroline solo, some of the two sisters together. The whole time Caroline had been supported, not just by her sister, but by Simon and (to Caroline's surprise) by Linda as well.

By the time they left the studio Caroline had decided that although she wasn't sure she wanted to be a model, it wasn't such a nerve-wracking experience as she'd feared it would be. She'd even agreed to work with Marianne on a shoot early next week. While she'd been surprised at the offer of fifty pounds for that, she'd noted Marianne's calm acceptance of the offer and, caught up in the spirit of the moment had agreed.

"It's just some bikini work, Caroline, and some summer tops. I promise there'll be nothing too revealing, and it'll be a nice, quick, simple job. A great way to earn a little holiday money, if you like," Chris had told her.

The other news was that Chris would be going to Knebworth as well, in an official capacity. He was on a job for a magazine, tasked with getting shots of the stage and the crowd. "Pearl will be going with me," he told Simon, confiding in him, man to man. "Never hurts to put a beautiful woman into the shot when you have to do stuff like that. But mainly it's going to be a great excuse for me to go and watch the 'Floyd. Hopefully I'll be able to get into a good party, too."





Winter Fires Ch. 08



Chapter 8 

June came to an end and July arrived. The festival would take place on the Saturday, the Fifth.

Marianne said, "Plan on having the whole of the following week off, Simon. I expect we'll be partying all over the weekend, and you'll definitely want Monday off – and I'd like to be able to spend time with you all that week. Besides, you deserve some time off after what you've been through, you hero you!"

Simon had waved off the last part, but had put in for the leave anyway. To his relief his request had been granted without a murmur – he really didn't want to face Marianne if her wishes had been thwarted. That he might have been given the leave because he'd saved the life of a fellow fireman didn't enter his head.

All was set for Simon, Marianne and Caroline to go to Knebworth – except transport. Simon hadn't thought of it at all, and when Caroline asked, "How are we getting there?" Marianne and Simon looked at each other in horror.

"I could ask John if we could borrow his car," Simon suggested after a moment. "He's not supposed to drive it at the moment anyway after that concussion."

So Simon hared off to see John. "Sure, no problem," he said, and readily handed over his keys. "Just, please, be careful with her?"

"Of course I will, John!" Simon assured him. "I know how much you dote on that car!"

That settled, with more assurances from Simon that he'd look after John's car, he carefully drove home.





Winter Fires Ch. 08



While they were waiting for the band to come back on the their encore, Simon, much the worse for wear on beer and euphoric with hearing his favourite band play, asked Marianne and Caroline in a loud voice, "Fancy going to a party afterwards?"

"What?" from both girls.

"Party!"

Caroline looked unsure, but when Marianne shouted "Yeah, sure!" she looking at her sister, and finally nodded.

"Great!" declared Simon and then before more could be said, the Floyd came back on.

The band finished, of course, with "Echoes". It was flawless, Simon was once more completely taken over with the music. The three of them stood once more arm-in-arm, mesmerised by one of the world's best progressive rock bands.

They started to drift away with the crowd before Marianne asked Simon, "Where's this party, then?"

Simon stopped and brought his mind back down to earth.

"We've got to get into Stevenage, somehow. I wonder if we can get a lift from someone?"

"Who, at this time of night? Oh, give me a break, Simon!" Marianne was not amused.

"We could always walk, you know," Caroline told her, but her sister disagreed.

"Too far! I've been on my feet almost all day and I don't feel like stumbling around in the dark!"

'Oh, well,' thought Simon. He hadn't really been thinking of going anyway, it was the alcohol that had loosened his tongue.

The three of them made their way to the exit. Just as they were filing out, Marianne spotted someone standing off to one side.

"Pearl!" she cried, and ran over to the older woman. They hugged and exchanged air-kisses while Simon and Caroline walked over more sedately. Chris was there, too, and the five of them chatted excitedly about the day. Chris was a devout Pink Floyd fan.

Eventually though Chris told Simon, "Sorry mate, gotta go – party to go to."

"Yeah, sure. We've got an invite to one as well but I don't think we can get there, it's a fair walk and I sure as hell can't drive!"

"Oh? Whereabouts, I might be able to give you a lift!"

"Stevenage," Simon replied.

"Perfect! That's where we're going! There's a record company bash at the Caribou."

Simon's wide, sloppy, somewhat drunk grin told all the story, but of course he couldn't refrain from telling Chris, "Same party!" 

"Have you got room?" asked Marianne, thinking of the Stag. Fitting three in the back of that car would be a very tight squeeze, especially with Chris' camera equipment.

"Sure, I brought the Cortina Estate – otherwise there wouldn't have been room for the cameras and Pearl's makeup!"

Pearl smacked his arm affectionately. "A girl's got to look after herself you know, Chris. You like me looking good in your pictures!"





Winter Fires Ch. 09



Marianne made the call to her Aunt, apologizing for getting her out of bed.

Simon heard Jennifer's voice say tinnily, "No, that's okay, I was just reading," then something quieter that he didn't catch. Marianne replaced the receiver and thanked the receptionist.

"What did she say?" Caroline asked.

"Oh, you know. The usual – Enjoy ourselves but stay out of trouble."

Simon leant close to Marianne and quietly asked, "There was something else, wasn't there?"

Marianne, in turn, leant into Simon's ear.

"Yes, she told me to watch out for the drugs and be careful of spiked drinks. Good advice – some of these people look like players, if you know what I mean."

"Not really, but it's good advice. Tell Caroline."

Marianne spoke quietly into Caroline's ear as they made their way back into the main party room. Then she grabbed Simon by the arm and drew him close.

"Simon, I know what Aunt Jen said, but this is the first party of this kind I've ever had the chance to go to. I'm going to enjoy myself - I might not get the chance to repeat the experience. You should do the same."

Simon looked at her blankly for a moment. He studied her expression, she seemed anxious, happy and determined all at once.

"What are you saying, Marianne?"

"I'm saying that we should, well, go for it. If it's there, we should indulge. Oh, I don't mean the hard drugs that I'm sure will be around – I don't want to get hooked any more than I'm sure you do – but anything else. I want to get drunk, get high, get laid. This can be our one night where anything goes."

Simon didn't know what to say. He'd been thinking about Alison though, obviously, and this did seem to give him a way… but at what cost?

He tried to make his brain work through the alcohol fumes.

"You're saying that you want to go and have sex with someone else?" he asked her.

"No. Well, possibly. I mean, if I'm asked, or something, I might consider it, if you'll do the same. Let's just take the chances offered to us tonight, Simon. That's what I'm saying."

'I must be drunk to even consider this,' he thought, foggily. 'But… maybe I might get to have Alison again?'

Marianne came closer still and kissed him gently, almost a brush against his lips, really. "Simon, I promise, we can do anything you want, later. Anything," she whispered huskily, one eyebrow aloft.

What man could resist? Certainly not Simon at that point. He nodded, and Marianne gave a short squeak and jumped on him, wrapping her arms around him. She kissed him hard, dropped off him and said, "This is going to be so great!" Grabbing his hand she pulled him over towards the bar to get a drink.





Winter Fires Ch. 09



"That upsets you, Caroline? It shouldn't really, you know."

"I dunno what it makes me feel, really."

Pearl looked Caroline straight in the eye. "It's opportunity, that's what it is, girl. You need to find Simon and make use of it." She shivered. "Plus, it's cold out here and I need to get back in the warm."

Caroline realised that she herself was getting cold. "D'you think they'd make us a coffee? I could murder one right now."

She stood up.

"Then I want to find Simon and see what's going on!"





Winter Fires Ch. 10



Caroline breathed a satisfied sigh as she put down her empty coffee cup. Pearl eyed her over the rim of her own one as she drained it.

"Are you going to go and find Simon, Caroline?" she asked the young brunette.

"That's the idea," Caroline replied, "but I have no idea how."

"Ask him?" Pearl suggested, pointing out the doorman nearby.

"Yeah... good idea, Pearl." Caroline was clearly psyching herself up, she wasn't normally this forward.

"Excuse me?" she asked the big man, looking up what seemed a long way, passed an impressively expansive chest.

"Can I help you?" he rumbled back to her, but he was smiling as he asked.

"I'm looking for a friend. He's about this tall, curly blonde hair. He might have been with the lead guitarist for Rocksette."

"Ah, I know Alison. Sugar, if he's with her, they'll likely be, how can I put this delicately? They'll likely be engaged, if you get my drift."

Caroline felt herself colouring up.

"I... I need to find him. Please?"

He looked at her for a long moment.

Just then 'Rocksette's lead singer, Shaun, came up.

"Hi, Dan. Alison back there?" he asked the doorman.

"Yah, she is, but like I was telling this young lady here, she's likely to be engaged, if you get my drift." The doorman, obviously 'Dan', told him.

"Well, she'll have to disengage. Feargal, from the record company, wants to talk to us all, and he's fretting. Which room?"

"Okay, man. Third on the left. Miss, you might as well see if you can find your young man, too. Go with Shaun, here." He opened the door he was guarding and waved them through.

They went through the door into the corridor beyond. Shaun said to her, "Looking for your boyfriend?"

Caroline decided to keep it simple. "Er, yeah."

"Well, doll, just remember that at parties like this all sorts of things happen. Don't take it personal, like. Alison don't mean anything by it, she's just being, well, being herself. Your young man, well, he'll..." Shaun tapered off, unsure how to continue.

Caroline helped him out by just saying, "I know," and surprising the singer with a peck on the cheek. "Thanks for trying. Simon and I, well, we'll have to talk."

'Will we ever,' she thought. 'Can I really do this?'

Shaun knocked on Alison's door. "Alison? Are you in there?" he called.

After a pause came a giggle and a reply of "Just a minute!"

Shortly after, the door opened. Alison was wearing her bath robe and Simon was sitting on the bed in his trousers, just pulling his shirt on.

Alison spoke as the door came fully open, "Hi, Shaun, what did – who're you!?"

Caroline and Shaun spoke at once.

"Hello, Alison, I'm looking for Simon."

"Alison, Feargal's having a fit back in there, he wants to speak to all of us about something!"

Alison looked at Caroline for a moment, then at Shaun. She told him, "Give me a moment, Shaun," and sniffed. "I need to get dressed and blow my nose."

Shaun pushed his way into the room, and Caroline followed him. She went to Simon, who was looking very sheepish, but also, strangely, relieved. Caroline herself felt quite numb, almost as if it were someone else in the room, not her.

"That better be all you're doing to your nose, Alison," Shaun warned. He sounded annoyed. "You do too much of that stuff," he told her, shouldering his way into the bathroom. He shut the door behind him.

Caroline heard the brittle, taut answer, "I can handle it!" from behind the door, but wasn't paying attention. Instead, she took Simon's hand and pulled, gently. "Come on, Simon. You don't belong here."

"Caroline?" Simon said. "You don't know how right you are. Where's Marianne?"

"We'll talk about that in a moment. Let's get you out of here first."

Simon nodded and followed Caroline out of the room, hearing raised voices from the bathroom before he shut the door behind him. He did it slowly, with a certain amount of regret, but also finality.

"Sorry," Simon apologised to Caroline.

"What for?" she answered.

"Dunno, really. It just seemed something that needed to be said," he told her. She realised that he looked stone cold sober, and a little frightened.

"Whatever's the matter, Simon? You look like you've seen a ghost!"

"Alison offered me cocaine. I nearly accepted. I might still have done, if you hadn't come knocking."

Caroline didn't really know what to say. "Oops."

"Yeah," was Simon's only comment.

Caroline took Simon's hand and started walking towards the door back into the restaurant, where the party was still going on. Before they got there another room door opened in front of them. Chris came out, trailing Marianne by his hand.

The four saw each other and stopped.

Chris hesitated a moment, but Marianne simply said, "Hi, Simon, Caroline. Enjoying yourselves? This room's free if you want it." She winked at Caroline before changing hands so that she was leading Chris, and going back into the party.

Simon stood and watched the pair of them leave together. Caroline squeezed his hand.

"I guess that's it, then, Simon," Caroline told him, quietly.

"No, Marianne told me at the start of the party that we should go and enjoy ourselves," he told her. "It hurts, mind, it really does, but I'm in no position to complain."

"No, Simon, you've misunderstood. She's told us we can use the room – together. You see, we've got this rule between us..."

"Rule?"

Caroline wondered how to put this. She also hesitated because she wasn't completely sure, even now. Marianne had signalled to her that she was free to move in on Simon, hadn't she? That must have been what she'd meant. Mustn't it?

Caroline had always been the diffident one, while Marianne had always been assertive. As a result she'd always seen her sister get in first, whether it be clothes, or boys, or such mundane things as what to watch on the telly. Even now, Caroline had held back and hadn't gone looking for 'her fireman', as she'd thought of him. Quite by chance, Marianne had got him instead, and Carline hadn't known how to react. But her mother had told her to stand up for herself more.

If Marianne hadn't meant what Caroline was almost sure she'd indicated, then this could end up in a blazing row. But if Caroline was right, and didn't act, she could watch her man disappear.

Caroline was fed up with missing out. She'd had enough of seeing opportunities, and being too afraid of things going wrong to take them until it was too late, and the chance had gone.

She reached for Simon, and kissed him.

It was just a light kiss, a gentle one, almost just a brush of her lips over his. But it was the start. They felt it, both of them. This wasn't just an ordinary kiss, this was a kiss, and she wanted to repeat it.

So she did. This time he responded, placing a hand lightly behind her back, then gradually drawing her in until she was pressed closely against him, her breasts crushed against his chest, their lips moving against their counterparts with almost bruising force. She opened her mouth and felt Simon's tongue introduce itself to hers.

Caroline wasn't inexperienced, she'd had boyfriends before. Most of them had been with Marianne before her, and of late they'd expected to pick up with her where they'd left off with her sister. Caroline had just about decided not to accept Marianne's 'cast-offs' as she'd had to point out to these young men, somewhat forcefully, that she wasn't her sister, and there were some things she didn't do on a first date. Some things she didn't do on any date.

But Simon wasn't pushing. The tongue kiss was there, yes, but it was tentative, inviting a denial. She felt his hands, yes, but again, their touch was passionate but not pressing. Caroline felt safe, safe that she could refuse or go slower at any point, but didn't want to.

Simon pulled back from the kiss. "Caroline, I... I'm sorry." He said. She put a finger over his lips.

"Ssshhh. Simon, something happened then. Let's take it slow, and see what happens, okay?"

He smiled, tentatively. "That sounds like a good idea. Um, you mentioned a rule? You and Marianne?"

Caroline nodded. "I think... I think you need to talk to Marianne, and soon. Very soon."

How could she make him understand? If she just said, "Simon, she just told me she'd dumped you!" he'd be angry, and deny it – he already had. No, this time she had to get Marianne to make it clear to Simon that the relationship was over, and Marianne had moved on. So Caroline could move in.

But she couldn't do it now. Not until Marianne had settled things with Simon, properly.

She also couldn't dream of intruding on whatever Marianne and Chris were up to.

She needed to slow things down.

"Lets... lets go back out to the party, see what's happening. It's probably winding down by now."

Simon looked thoughtful. "That's probably a good idea," he said, slowly. "I doubt if the party's finished though, not if what I've heard of these things is right."

"Oh, I doubt if it's an orgy out there, Simon!"

He grinned and took her hand. "Okay, let's go!"





Winter Fires Ch. 10



"Simon, you know how, when the dawn comes, and you don't want the day to end? Well, erm – why don't we consider the party to be going on for the rest of the week?"

"You're joking, of course!" he told her, instantly. "I'll drive me and Caroline back and come and pick you up..."

Marianne interrupted him, though.

"No, Simon, I'm serious. I'm having fun, and you could too. Chris is going to take me out tonight, and we'll have a drink, and smoke a bit – you know – and probably we'll, well, you know that as well. But it's just fun, Simon. Look, I know Caroline would love to –"

"Stop right there, Marianne. Just stop! You can't mean this. It's not right!" Simon's voice was raised, he could feel his blood singing in his veins.

"Don't you tell me what I can and can't do, Simon Cook!" she shouted back.

Simon tried to control his temper. "Look. I know you're just testing me, right? Just winding me up? But it's not a nice thing to do, Marianne, it's not, and bringing your sister into it is not on. I'm coming back, and we'll sort this out over a drink, and go to bed, and cuddle afterwards. That always makes you feel better!" He finished that sentence sounding far more confident than he felt.

"NO, Simon. Stay there, or at least, don't come here. I have plans for tonight." Marianne was quiet for a moment, then she carried on in a calmer voice, "But tomorrow... well, I guess tomorrow we should meet up. What you said sounds nice," she finished.

'One more day. It can't make that much difference, can it?' he told himself, trying to convince that part of him that was shouting 'Danger! Danger!' He failed.

"Okay than, Simon, I'll see you tomorrow. I'll meet you at your place and we can go and have a drink. All right?"

Simon grunted his acceptance, if not his agreement.

"Could you put Caroline on, please?" Marianne asked. Simon put his hand over the microphone and called her sister over, relinquishing the handset to her. He went to the sofa and sat heavily. He looked at Jennifer and caught the sympathetic eyes of Marianne's Aunt on him. He looked away, angry and also embarrassed that he'd been shouting at her niece like that.

He tuned out the rest of the conversation, replaying his call with Marianne over and over. One moment he was certain she'd broken up with him, the next he was sure she wanted to get back together, and then again, she probably only wanted to see him in order to break up with him face-to-face. Then he'd go around again.

He finally noticed that someone was poking his arm.

"Simon? Hello, Houston calling Simon!"

"What!?" he snarled, annoyed at being interrupted.

Caroline recoiled. "Well! I was going to tell you that Marianne asked me what happened last night, and I told her. Yes, I told her about you and that singer." ("Alison", Simon contributed, but Caroline didn't let him interrupt her.) She asked if you'd slept with me. I told her, no, I wouldn't, couldn't do that, and neither would you, and I also told her straight that she shouldn't do this to you."

Her voice softened, and she continued, "She won't be swayed, Simon. I'm sorry. So I told her that I'd look after you tonight. We can go home, or stay here, we can go out, or not, it's entirely up to you. But Mari doesn't want you left alone, she cares about you, she really does. So do I, Simon." She leant forward and quickly pecked him on the forehead, catching him by surprise. "A lot."

Simon was confused, but the thought of getting home and avoiding another night on the couch was appealing. Besides, he wasn't entirely sure he trusted Jennifer. Or Marianne.

Or Caroline, come to that. Suddenly Simon knew he had to get home, get back to familiar, safe surroundings. He gathered up his wits and asked Jennifer, "Would you mind if I went home? You wouldn't be offended?"

"Good Lord, no, Simon. Of course I'm not offended."

"Good!" Simon climbed to his feet, and watched Caroline pull herself up as well. "I'll go get my stuff together," she told him. Simon wasn't entirely sure he wanted to take her back with him, but knew it would be churlish to say she couldn't come – how else was she to get home to her family?

"Okay," he said, on an explosive expulsion of breath. "I'll get my kit together as well. There's not much to that, actually."

"I'll make some tea," Jennifer told them both, "you can have a cuppa before you leave." Simon started to object, but Jennifer merely rode over that, saying, "No, you'll need a hot drink before you go. You're still not really over the drinking from last night!" Since Jennifer was likely to be right, Simon shut up.





Winter Fires Ch. 11



It was the next morning. Caroline heard her sister's voice from the front door, "Hi, Mum! Hi, Cari!"

Caroline got up and stomped into the hallway.

"You BITCH!" she shouted.

"Huh?" was Marianne's response, coming at the same time as her mother's reprimand, "Caroline! Language!"

"Do you know what you've done?" she shouted at Marianne. "You blithely went off with your new fella, assuming Simon would just pick up with me, didn't you!?"

Marianne was looking at her sister in shock, her mother had her hand in front of her mouth. Neither had seen Caroline in such a fury for a long, long time.

"Cari," Marianne began, but Caroline wasn't about to let her sister get a word in edgeways.

"Shuttup! Listen to me, for a change! Simon took me home yesterday, ignoring me for almost the whole trip back! He dropped me off outside here and told me to tell you that he'll see you tomorrow. Now, tell me, plain and clear: Are you going to try to make up with him, or is it over?"

"It's not that simple, Cari,"

"YES IT IS!" Caroline shouted at Marianne, before suddenly bursting into tears. 

Tina moved to place an arm around her daughter. "What's happened, you two?" Both Marianne and Caroline began to talk at once, but Tina stopped them. "Quiet! One at a time, please. Marianne, you first."

"We went to a party after the show. Simon and I agreed that we'd enjoy whatever opportunities came up. I saw him going off with the lead singer of one of the bands – she's a bit of a dish – and I went with Chris, the photographer. That's it."

"No, that's not all of it, is it, Marianne?" countered Caroline. "You stayed with Chris last night as well! Also, when we met at the party, you gave me the go-ahead. Didn't you?"

"Well, yes. Kinda. But that was at the party, and last night was, was... well. It was just last night. At least, that was the plan." Marianne looked down at her shoes. "I'm a bit embarrassed to say this, but, well, Chris and I got on really well."

"Just sort it out with young Simon, Marianne. He deserves better than to have you stringing him along, if that's the way this is going!" Tina told her daughter.

Marianne looked like she'd swallowed something that really didn't agree with her. "I love Simon," she began, then tailed off. "I'm going up to my room, to have a sleep on it. Wake me at half past eleven, please, Mum? Cari, I... I don't know what to say. I did give you the go-ahead, as you put it, but I meant just for the party. But since then... I'll talk to you before I see Simon. Please, give me the chance to get some sleep first?"

Caroline stood, arms folded in front of her and gave her sister a look that would have frozen the Thames. "All right. Eleven thirty, then. Marianne."

- - - - - - - - - -

At eleven thirty precisely Caroline knocked on her sister's door. She heard Marianne's voice, "Cari? Come in."

Caroline walked into the bedroom and closed the door. Her sister was sting on her bed, legs folded under her.

"I thought you were going to get an hour or two of kip?"

"I was, but I just couldn't get to sleep. Sit down, please, Cari." Caroline stood stubbornly in front of her sister, arms crossed in front of her chest. "Please, Cari?" Marianne asked again, almost pleading.

"Okay!" Caroline answered, and sat stiffly on the edge of the bed.

Marianne began.

"I thought about what to say for a long time, Cari. I know I could have done things better, and I'm sorry about that.

"At the party, I just went a little crazy, I guess. I've never had the chance to actually be at one like that, and the possibilities – well, I got carried away with the ideas, I guess. I told Simon I wanted to get high, get drunk and get laid, and strongly implied that I wanted him to do the same. And he did, didn't he?"

"Yes, he did," Caroline answered. "If I hadn't got to him, he says he'd probably have done some cocaine, he'd already had at least one spliff that I noticed, he'd been drinking – and yes, he'd got laid. By that guitarist woman, the blonde."

"Hmm. Shall I tell you what happened to me, Cari? I got propositioned all over the place, but mostly by guys I didn't want to touch me at all. I ended up hardly drinking at all for fear of my glass being tampered with. I smoked a little weed, yes – but that's all. I got offered cocaine, and more. One guy even tried really, really hard to persuade me to give it a try. I was going to give in, but then Chris came on the scene and took over so smoothly you wouldn't believe it. He just took my arm, chatted to me as if nothing was going on at all and steered me out of there."

"So you thought you'd pay him back by screwing him."

"Well, yes, at first that's what it was. When we met you and Simon in the corridor that's what we'd been doing. But... Chris did something. To me, I mean."

Now Caroline's face grew really hard.

"No, no, Cari, not like that, he didn't hurt me, or anything. He... woke something up in me, I guess. That's why I went with him last night, and let him bring me home. We stayed at his place last night."

"I'd worked that out!" spat her sister.

"Cari! Calm down, please, sis. I think.. I think Chris might be The One. You know?"

For the first time, Caroline's face cleared. "Really?" she asked, voice slightly hushed.

"Uh-huh. I felt close to Simon, but Chris... I tell you I get goose bumps at his name already."

"Mari! You can't be sure this quickly!"

"Well, we have known each other for months, and he has seen all of me there is to see. Well, pretty much. We don't do 'pink bits' as you know. But he saw them all right last night..."

Caroline couldn't help it, she giggled!

"So yes, it's quick, but not really that quick. So now I have to let Simon down, I guess." Marianne looked sad when she said this. Caroline saw that her sister really didn't want to hurt her boyfriend – well, former boyfriend.

"Mari, in the corridor – you expected me to take Simon into that room, didn't you?"

"Well, I hoped, but then again, I know you. I expected you to be unable to make your mind up. I rather hoped that Simon would have taken the hint, actually."

"I think he was oblivious. That blonde –"

"Alison"

"Yeah, her, she really wore him out, I think. That's why she was trying to get him to do the drug.

"Coke's supposed to be good for that," mused Marianne.

"Mari!"

"Oh, shush! Mum'll hear you! No, I didn't do any, I'm just left wondering what it would be like."

"Anyhow, no, we didn't get it on together. I think he was too shell-shocked by Allison, and really didn't seem to want to hit a room with me – but I tell you, I made up my mind right then. I wanted him. I just couldn't find a way of getting him into bed at the party."

"Marianne smiled at her sister. "Did you think of just asking?"

"I thought about it, yes, but I couldn't say the words, and then Simon wanted to get back to Aunt Jen's place. I couldn't find the right time to say anything. And then I did... and it didn't go too well." Caroline's voice got very quiet as she finished that sentence, almost dying to a whisper.

"Oh, Cari. What happened?"

"He – he got the idea I was making a play for him while he was still going out with you. It was after the party, you see, we'd stopped off at the café on the seafront, and I started to explain... and he told me off for trying to get him while he was still going out with you."

Marianne held her face in her hands for a moment. "I've really screwed this up," Caroline heard her sob before she lifted her face again and said, "I'll tell him, Cari. I will. I'm really sorry. You haven't done anything wrong, it's me." She sat up straighter on the bed. "I'll sort this out, Cari. You still want to go out with him, don't you?"

"Oh, yes!"

"Then I'll let him down as gently as I can, and let him know that you're more than interested, too. Okay?"

Caroline stood up. "Okay, Marianne." Her sister stood up too, and they embraced before Caroline turned, gave Marianne a quick, bright smile over her shoulder, and left.

- - - - - - - - - -

Simon heard the doorbell ring, and was in the doorway of his room when his mother opened the front door and said, "Oh, hello Marianne. Lovely to see you. He's upstairs, dear."

"Coming!" he called and ran down the stairs. Marianne greeted him with a hug and a smile, but Simon saw that there was something wrong. He didn't quite know how he felt, either.

"Shall we go for a walk, Simon?" she asked him. "Sure," he replied, grabbing his coat. She turned, twining her arm in his, and they walked off.

"Friendship Path?" he asked her, and she nodded. They walked in near-silence for a few minutes.

Eventually, Simon stopped, sat on the grass and pulled Marianne down to sit next to him. She sighed, looked at Simon, looked down at her feet and then away into the distance. Finally, she looked him in the eye.

"Simon, we need to talk about that party."

"Yes, I know. We, er, we weren't very responsible, were we?"

"Marianne gave him a tired smile. "No, not very. Well, we weren't completely off the rails, either. As things go, what we did was very mild. But we hurt each other, and I especially hurt you, I think. So I need to tell you what happened, and you need to tell me your side, and then we can decide where we go from here."

Simon really didn't like the way this was sounding, but he didn't think he really had a choice. He nodded, and told Marianne, "Okay. You going to go first?"

Marianne took a deep breath before agreeing, "Okay."

"I railroaded you into agreeing to that as we arrived at the party, Simon. I'm sorry, I shouldn't have. I wanted to see how the other half partied, and in the end I chickened out, really." She told him what she'd told Caroline earlier. "I'd been expecting to be knee-deep in rock 'n roll types, all hair and attitude and sex, but what I found was just a bunch of overweight oafs and boring guys in suits, who were just there trying to get their end away after scoring some easy drugs.

"I didn't want anything to do with them, really. But I was drinking, and my resolve was weakening about the drugs. I think if I'd taken more weed, or tried the cocaine, I'd have ended up as a party favour. I'm on the Pill, Simon, but some of those guys looked less than clean, okay? Not what I want!

"And then, just as I'm about to give in, Chris comes along and gets me out of there. He's a nice guy, we know each other a bit, and... well, he's there, and I'm grateful. One thing led to another, and then you found us in that corridor."

"Yes, I remember," Simon told her. "But –"

"Let me finish, please Simon, there's more. That first fuck I let him have because I was grateful, and I was drunk, and a bit high. But... There was a spark. So I stayed with him, and went home with him. I got back to Mum's this morning, late, had a row with Cari – well, you'll find out later about that, I expect."

"Huh?" Simon said, but it didn't stop Marianne.

"Quiet. While I was with Chris... it was different from when he was the photographer, I was the model. Simon, I'm really, really sorry, but I've fallen for him."

"CHRIS?"

"Please don't get angry, Simon. Please?"

Simon jumped up. "Don't get angry? When you say you're sorry, but you're not going to be my girlfriend anymore because you've decided to take up with an old man?"

"He's not old! And besides, you went with the blonde!"

"Yes, but I didn't fall for her!" Simon shouted, shoving the thought that he so nearly had way, way back into the back of his mind.

Marianne crumpled, sobbing, "I know, Simon. I'm sorry, but I did fall for Chris. I didn't want to lie to you, so I wanted to tell you straight away. And I didn't mean it to happen, but it did. Please don't hate me, Simon."

"Hate you? That's too good for you, Marianne!" shouted Simon, storming off. He walked resolutely away down the path, hearing nothing and caring less about what was happening behind him. His anger was a live thing, burning inside him that he fed for a while, adding small pieces of hurt, of betrayal to it to keep it white-hot.

His body stiff, his back straight, Simon walked away from Marianne.

- - - - - - - - - -

"Simon? Simon! Come to the phone! It's Marianne!"

"Tell her I'm not in!" Simon yelled to his mother, then he slammed the door shut and threw himself on his bed.

He heard a knock on his door. "What?" he snarled.

"Can I come in?" he heard his mother ask.

"Oh, okay," he told her. She walked in and sat on his bed, while Simon watched her through sullen eyes.

"Simon Cook, I'm surprised at you! You've obviously had some sort of falling out with Marianne, but that's no reason to shout at me, or to be rude to her. This, this..." she waved her hands in some indistinct gesture. "This act of yours is silly and juvenile, not like you at all! You're a responsible young man, not a young teenager! Behave like it!"

"Yeah, yeah," Simon answered, but he did sit up and regard his mother with more respect. "I'm sorry, Mum, it's just... I feel used."

"By Marianne? How? Why?"

"Good questions, Mum." He proceeded to lay out the story of the party, starting briefly with the concert, leaving out only the details, but making plain his own involvement with Alison. "I guess in that respect I'm to blame as well," he said, "I went along with Marianne because I saw a possibility, and went for it. But Alison was, well, she was a bit false, I guess. No that's not right," Simon was trying to tell what happened without bringing up the drugs. "I guess she was only interested in the sex," he told his mother, "and that just wasn't what I wanted."

"What happened then?" asked Jackie, quietly.

"Caroline found me, and we were just going back to the party when we bumped into Marianne. With Chris. She more or less tried to throw me to Caroline and waltzed off with the bloke."

His mother winced.

"Yeah. But y'know, I could get over that, because of what we agreed – and I did agree – before the party started. But she stayed with him overnight, and then she blithely tells me she's 'fallen for him' this afternoon. As good as gave me my marching orders, she did."

"Did you and Caroline..."

"No. No, we didn't. To be honest, I wasn't in the mood even if she'd paraded in front of me, naked, with her Aunt."

"Her Aunt?"

Simon tried to cover his slip. "Well, she looks like her nieces, just a few years older.

"Oh. Okay." His mother gave him a shrewd look. "But Simon, if all that's true, why would Marianne now want to talk to you?"

"Just to twist the knife, I guess," he answered darkly. But it was a thought, wasn't it?

"If she rings again, talk to her. If she doesn't, well, she doesn't. You'll get over it, Simon. You will." She tousled her son's hair, then tried unsuccessfully to make it lie flat again. "Oops."

He interposed his hand and arm, ducking out of the way. "Mum!"

But he was grinning, and Jackie decided to retire and accept the small victory. "All right, I'll leave you alone. But think about what I said, Simon."

Think about it he did. 'I've not been terribly grown up, have I?" he mused. 'Best thing is to make a clean break of it." If Marianne called, he was going to tell her it was over. That was it, no more of Marianne Simmons for Simon!"

- - - - - - - - - -

But the next night, the doorbell rang, and Simon's mother opened it. "Marianne?"

"No, it's Caroline. Um, can I see Simon please?"

Caroline was surprised by the glare that she'd got from Simon's mother, but it faded after she'd identified herself. She was ushered in to the house and led to the sitting room. Jackie called up to her son, "Simon? Visitor!"

After a pause Simon came into the room. "Oh. Caroline?"

"Yes, it's me. I gather you don't want to talk to my sister, Simon."

"Well, no. I think it's best we draw a line. Let's face it, it's over between us," he responded, sitting next to her on the sofa.

Caroline nodded. "Okay, I'll pass that on," she told him in a small, quiet voice. "Or maybe you'd prefer to tell her yourself?"

"No, I think she made it clear how she felt, Caroline. I hope she'll be happy with Chris, I really do. I liked her a lot."

Caroline laid her head at an angle onto her shoulder. "You sure it wasn't more than that?"

Simon was quiet for a moment. "It may have been," he allowed, "but that's in the past. I have to get over it."

Caroline moved closer to him. "You don't have to get over it alone, Simon. "I can help you." Caroline was blushing furiously and she looked down, then away from him to hide it.

"Caroline?" she heard him say after a moment. "What do you mean?"

"I mean – I mean I'm not Marianne. I know it'll be a problem because I look like her and all, but we're different, inside. I wouldn't hurt you like she did."

"You want me to go out with you."

"Yes," she replied on a breath, turning to face him once more. "Yes."

"So I was right, before."

"Yes, but... But Simon, please? Give it a try, at least. Give me a try?" Caroline was determined not to cry, not to use tears as a weapon, but it was hard, so hard. Her throat was thick with emotion and her eyes stung, but she held herself together. She bit her lip, waiting for Simon to say something. She really didn't want to beg...

"Let's try a date. Let's say that it's new, that we'd not met, or at least that she hadn't happened, We could try that, couldn't we, Simon?"

Finally, he nodded. "Yes, we could try that, Caroline. Okay. Where shall we go?"

"Can you take me dancing tonight, please? No-one ever takes me dancing?"

Simon gave her a look that plainly said he didn't believe her, but answered, "Fine, Caroline. We'll go for a drink first, then dancing at 'Sundowners'. Okay?"

"More than okay, Simon! Thank you!"

Caroline leant into him and kissed his cheek. 

- - - - - - - - - -

By unspoken assent they avoided the 'Cross Keys' and went to a pub that Simon hadn't taken Marianne to. Simon bought a pint, while Caroline asked for a Southern Comfort and lemonade. He led her to a quiet table away from the bar area and they sat. They both looked at their drinks, neither able to start the conversation at first.

Simon was looking her over her, she saw. She saw his eyes track from her hair, tonight pulled up on top of her head, to her suit jacket, a smart pale grey jacket over the sheer, semi see-through blouse, and on down to her trousers, fitted closely to her body. Her red patent leather shoes matched her finger and toenail varnish. Her makeup was understated, enhancing rather than concealing. This date meant a lot to Caroline. Her sister and mother had spent a long time with her, comparing outfits, helping with her hair and makeup and building her up when her natural shyness made her threaten to pull out altogether.

The dress code for 'Sundowners' was what they called 'smart casual'; T-shirts and jeans wouldn't work, neither would running shoes or workboots. Simon was wearing a jacket and tie both in navy blue, his shirt was a paler shade while his trousers were darker. His natural blonde locks went well with it, and he'd even managed to partially tame them into semi-submission.

They sat together, neither saying anything, each taking the other in.

'Oh, God, this is a disaster!' worried Caroline. She forced herself to ask something, to get things going again.

"It was my old bosses' wife that introduced me to drinking these," she said, lifting her glass.

"Hmm? Really?" responded Simon, "Southern Comfort?"

"Yes. It was a couple of years ago, nearly. Ronnie and Kathy, his wife, took all us girls out for a drink. I think it was to celebrate them being open for ten years, something like that. Kathy bought me one of these, and I found I liked it."




Winter Fires Ch. 11



"I've never tried it," Simon said, and Caroline held her glass to him. He took a sip, and gave it obvious thought. "It's kinda sweet, but I can see how you could like it."

"I like sweet things," Caroline smiled. "I prefer sweet wine to dry, I prefer desserts to starters, and I love the sweet counter! I have to be careful, though, else I would pile on the weight!"

"I can't see that you've had a problem with it, Caroline. You've a lovely figure." For a moment Caroline thought he was going to compare her to her sister, but he didn't.

"How about you? Are you a sweet or savoury person?" she asked after a moment.

"Oh, savoury, I think, yes, savoury. But I do like a sweet, too. Guess I just like food!" he grinned. Caroline couldn't get enough of that grin, it lit up his face, and he looked so handsome, she thought.

They chatted on about this and that, keeping it light, sticking to safe topics, just gently getting to know each other. Caroline was impatient, wanting to move things along much faster, but knew she couldn't musn't do that.

Simon was loosening up, she thought. She glanced at her wrist, where her dainty little watch told her it was already nearly ten o'clock.

Simon saw. "Oh! Sorry, Caroline. You want to go dancing, don't you. What time is it already?"

"Nearly ten," she told him, hopefully.

"Okay." He glanced at her glass. He'd kept it refilled while they were in the pub, but it was empty now. "I'll just finish this," he told her, draining his beer, "and we can go shake a leg!"

Caroline couldn't quite stifle the giggle at his phrasing. "What?" he asked her, a self-aware smile threatening to burst over his face.

"You!" she exclaimed, "Have you been dancing with your parents or something? 'Shake a leg', huh?" He laughed, a God's-honest real laugh, for the first time that night, as he stood up. He was still laughing as he crooked his arm for her, and they left the pub on that high note.

- - - - - - - - - -

Not long after the couple arrived at 'Sundowners' Simon found out something he'd not noticed before:

Caroline could dance. She could really dance.

They were dancing to a fast track, some sort of generic disco music that normally would have had Simon running for cover, but he was ensorcelled by her movement and enthusiasm. This was a whole new Caroline; she would, Simon was sure, have outshone her sister had she been present too. A couple of tracks later and mercifully the DJ played a slower track, and he was able to pull her in close and talk to her without yelling.

"Wow! I never knew you could dance like that!" he told her.

"Oh! I've always enjoyed dancing," she said, directly into his ear.

"It's like seeing a whole new you," Simon said, "like a third twin." When Caroline laughed at him, he laughed as well when he worked out what he'd said. "Well, you know what I mean."

"I guess so, Simon. I just feel different when I'm moving to music."

"I wonder why you can't feel as free when posing?" wondered Simon. He felt Caroline stiffen, realised he'd compared her to Marianne and immediately apologised, "I'm sorry, I shouldn't have said that."

She relaxed again. "It's okay, Simon. We're twins, but we're different. She's better than me at some things, perhaps most things – but I can dance better than her any day of the week, and she knows it! So what if she can pose – I need music, and movement." On saying that she pulled away from Simon, holding his arm away from him, up high, and twirled under it, returning to him in a close embrace.

They danced, and danced, and danced. Caroline had him loosening up, throwing his inhibitions away and dancing with her, enthusiastically if not with her skill and grace. She laughed with him, not at him, when he messed up, she held him close during the slower songs and dared him to keep up with her on the faster ones. The night flew by, and when they finally had to leave the club at closing time Simon couldn't believe it.

They were outside the club, waiting for a cab, when Simon remembered something she'd said.

"You said earlier that no-one took you dancing?"

Her laugh had a bitter tone to it. "That's right. You see, most of the men I've been out with have been out with Marianne before, then they meet me – the slightly awkward, shy, lesser sister, and what do they see? What do they want? They just want to get me into bed and take up where they left of with her."

Simon stood behind her, put his arms around her and nuzzled her hair.

"None of them wanted to spend a night finding out about me, Simon. I worked that out. I'd more-or-less decided not ever to go out with one of her ex-boyfriends again, you know. But then the ex-boyfriend turned out to be you."

She turned in his arms and looked him in the eye. "And you turned out to be more of a gentleman than all of the others, and you took me dancing. Thank you, Simon."

Then she kissed him. He kissed her back. They never noticed the cab until he honked his horn at them.

"I'll take you home, Caroline," he told her.

"Your home," whispered into his ear. He looked at her again, saw that she meant it. It wasn't too fast – not for her, and a bit to his surprise, not for him.

He told the cabbie where to go, sat back in the seat, and asked her, "Kiss me again?"

She did.

- - - - - - - - - -