Chapter 1

The girl next door was a nice lass. I had only spoken to her a couple of times, but I had seen her going out on several occasions. Early twenties, slim, long dark hair and a penchant for short skirts, split skirts, tight trousers and loose tops. She tended to be out late most nights, working as a barmaid. She seemed quite, sober, respectable. Never any noise from her flat, no loud music, no arguements. I wished that I could get to know her better, having been seperated for four years, but I could think of no reason why she should be interested in me.

That all changed one night in early spring. Coming home from a friends house I was not surprised to notice no lights in her flat. However, as I got to my front door, I noticed that there was some mess in her back garden, that hadn’t been there earlier. I went to investigate, and found her back door wide open, and her home in one hell of a mess. Drawers tipped out, food scattered everywhere. Broken china, broken glass all through the house, and all sorts in the garden. The back door had been forced. Touching nothing, I went to call the police.

That was when my life changed. Her laundry basket had been emptied in the back garden. A pair of her pants was lying on the ground in front of me. Dirty pants. Very dirty. It looked as if she had taken a good dump in them. I picked them up, looked at them, smelt them. Lovely.

I couldn’t leave these for the police to find, or anything else like them. Were there more? A quick inspection found several more pairs of dirty pants, as well as stained dresses and skirts, and unusually stained sheets. I KNOW that spunk isn’t brown.

I couldn’t leave all of that for the police. The poor girl would be mortified. I quickly gathered up all that I could find, and then went and called the police.

Ten minutes later blue lights heralded the arrival of the police. I went out and told them all that I knew, which wasn’t a lot. Then I sat back and waited to see what would happen.

It didn’t take them long to find the lass. She was visibly shaken when she saw the mess through her back door. The police let her take a quick look around inside, to see what was missing. She came back out, obviously shocked. That was my chance. I offered to take her in for a cup of tea, let her phone whoever she needed and sit down somewhere warm and safe.

O.K., I am a bit of a cad. I was taking shameless advantage of this poor lass, at a time when she was very vulnerable. But I had no intention of hurting her. Let her know that I knew, that I didn’t mind, that I didn’t find her hobby unusual. Make sure that she knew that her secret was safe with me. And see what happened. I didn’t want gratitude, her to go to bed with me because she felt obligated. I wanted her friendship, and whatever might come from that.

I sat her down on the settee and gave her the phone, while making coffee for both of us. When I came back, she was sitting holding the phone. “My parents are away, most of my friends have no room, and I am not certain how much I can trust some of them anyway.” She seemed very fragile, sitting on the sofa. Worried. Scared. “I’ll just have to stay at home. Do you know anyone who can secure the door for me?” She looked up at me.

“I can secure the door, but I don’t think you should stay there tonight.” Trying to project reassurance, let her know that she could trust me. “I have a spare room. You’re welcome to stay here.” She looked unsure. Change the subject, come back to it later. She couldn’t stay there tonight. “How much did they take.”