Chapter 3: 'Phone Call And A Meeting For Lunch

Sure enough, early the next morning Gillian rang him at work to apologise for inviting Phoebe and to protest at him paying for what was supposed to be their treat. “Meet me for lunch and we can discuss it,” he offered, thinking, Every opportunity to fall into my web.

“Not today,” she answered, “but Chris is off on a site visit all next week, so perhaps Monday?”

Got you, David thought as he agreed to meet her at a well known pub some distance from the office. As there were no particular hours of work for staff of his seniority, they merely worked all the hours necessary to complete the task in hand, he let his team leaders know that he was taking the following Monday afternoon off.

When David arrived at The Queen’s Arms just before their arranged time of noon Gillian was already there. The first discussion was food and each settled on a fairly light lunch and they shared a bottle of uninspired house red wine. David noticed that Gillian seemed to be drinking quite fast, so he simply speeded up so she didn’t have too much.

“I’m sorry we asked that girl to our little dinner,” said Gillian, “But we thought she had been your partner to the Christmas Party and she didn’t deny it.”

“No matter,” said David, “but I must make it clear that she wasn’t my partner at the Christmas Party, or on any other occasion. She’s just a new employee who is trying to impress me, or maybe has a school girl type crush on me. Either way it’s unimportant because it won’t work.”

The discussion moved on to trivial small talk such as the stupidity and incompetence of politicians.

After the meal was over and the wine finished, David set his trap. “I would suggest coffee, but it is cheap and nasty here. Normally I go home and make my own, but I don’t suppose...”

“I’d love to join you,” said Gillian, much to his pleasure.

Happily settled in David’s sitting room with cups of coffee he had quickly made, the conversation turned to more domestic affairs with Gillian expressing surprise that it was so neat and tidy for a bachelor residence. David explained that although he was a widower that he really did like to keep the place spick and span. “I even make the bed each morning,” he commented.

“I find that hard to believe. In fact I’d need to see that with my own eyes,” said Gillian with a glance towards the stairs, “I don’t imagine either my father or my husband has ever made a bed in their lives.”

David decided to find out if he was reading the signals right. “You know Chris is a very lucky man to have such a beautiful wife,” he said and continued, “If you were my wife I would not let you go to another man’s house alone, even at lunch time,” and he let his hand rest on her arm.

She put her hand over his, not trying to move it but rather holding it there. “I’m sure nothing will happen that I don’t approve of,” she said.

David moved his hand from under hers and cupped one breast with it. Yes or no? he thought.

She lifted her face up and close to his, clearly ready for a kiss as her eyes closed.

He kissed her very gently and then whispered, “There are more comfortable places than this sofa.”

“For example that made bed?” she asked, and offered no objection as he stood up and led her by the elbow to the stairs, upwards and into the bedroom.

“Please,” she said, “I hate to break the moment but I do need...”

“In the en suite,” he pointed.

She was gone for several minutes and David sat on the edge of the bed, still fully dressed, and deliberately well away from the bedroom door to allow her to escape if she had changed her mind.

The bathroom door opened and she came in to the bedroom wearing David’s own bathrobe and clearly very little else.

David stood up and took her into his arms and kissed her. As she responded enthusiastically, their tongues met in a mutual caress and one of his hands went up and inside the bathrobe to luxuriate on a wonderfully smooth warm breast. When he touched her breast she flinched. “Sorry,” he said.

“Carry on, just cold fingers,” she said.

Turning her very gently, and slipping the bathrobe off her shoulders, David contrived to grasp both of her breasts as he pulled her gently back to lean on his chest.

After a few moments of companionable closeness she turned and started to undress him, slipping his jacket off, then undoing his tie and then unbuttoning his shirt.

At this point David started to assert his control over proceedings by gently suggesting, “You might want to unmake the bed a little, especially if you would like to lie on it.”