Jeremy Carstairs was greeted by his Aunts Frances and Josephine as he stepped out of the December cold into the hall of their old house and into its cosy warmth. He remembered of old the warmth of the house and the friendly welcome. How could he not, after so many visits to these dear old ladies over the years? Jeremy and his parents had spent many happy Christmases with these two friendly maiden ladies. Unfortunately, this Christmas was to be a little different.

Jeremy's parents had been forced to go abroad for a few days to attend the funeral of a relative in Minnesota. He remembered the sadness in both his parent's eyes as they had said goodbye a couple of days earlier. "We'll be back before the New Year, darling," his mother had said as she hugged him and gave him a farewell kiss.

"Never mind, Mother. We'll have a good time, the three of us, as always. And in a few days' you'll be back. We'll all have a great New Year's Eve together."

His mother had brushed away a tear, only for it to be followed by a flood of others, which ran unchecked down both cheeks. His father had drawn her away and helped her into the car, not looking any too cheerful himself.

"Come on in dear" Aunt Frances said. "Take your things up to your room. You're in the front bedroom this time."

Jeremy obeyed, finding the stairs a little harder than they should be - in keeping, lately, with all physical effort - and pushed his way in to the front bedroom, a room he had never been in before, and which had not been used for many years.

It was larger than the room he usually occupied. The bay widow consisted of two halves which opened inwards. He undid the catch and looked out onto the street below and at the small town. Leading from across the road was a footpath down to the River Severn, a few hundred yards away. Houses a little lower down were frequently flooded in winter, but his Aunts' house ' was built on slightly higher ground and safe from inundation. He loved this quaint old town and especially this lovely old dwelling which held so many delightful childhood memories.

He closed the windows, shivering a little - odd for a healthy young seventeen year old - and began unpacking his belongings. He put his pyjamas under the cover of the large old double bed and went back the window to draw the curtains. He saw, to his surprise, that someone's finger had disturbed the condendsation and written a message. It read "U won't need the 'jamas - lover boy!"

Jeremy looked at this with amazement. Who could have traced out that message? He opened the window and looked out. There was nobody to be seen. It would, he decided, be possible for a very agile person to climb up to this room via a drain pipe, but he would have surely heard them. He sat down on the edge of the bed and felt faint, as he did so often, lately. Finally he pulled himself together and went back to the window to finish pulling the curtains to. The condensation had cleared and the message - if it had not been a delusion - was gone.

He made his way downstairs to a pleasant evening with his two relatives. At about half past nine, he expressed himself a little tired and excused himself. The ladies exchanged a sad glance as he said goodnight and made his way upstairs.

He undressed and looked at himself in the mirror. What he saw was the body of a fit and athletic youth, who had excelled at school in all games. He was the Captain of the Rugby First Fifteen and a useful fast bowler in the summer. He held the school high jump record and was a fine sprinter and swimmer. Next term, he was going to do even more great things on the field of play. Just as soon as could shake off this wretched bug that he had had for the last couple of weeks, and which was making him so awfully tired all the time - so he kept telling himself, in the teeth of all the evidence.

As he finished undressing he reached under the bedclothes for his nightwear and remembered the scrawled message of earlier in the day. Extraordinary! He must have imagined it! As he stood there, he noticed the curtains move and felt a draught of cold air. The window must have opened somehow. He was about to go and close it, when the curtains moved again and it was obvious that someone was standing behind them. A hand poked through - a tiny feminine hand. It was the sweetest hand he had ever seen in his short life, white and delicate. This sweet member was swifly followed by an arm, and the arm by the rest of the intruder.

The person who stood before him was young, fair-haired and very, very female. She was also naked. Her fair hair came down almost to her waist and otherwise there was no adornment or covering on her slim and perfect body whatever. This lovely girl was about five feet three inches tall, fair haired and pale skinned. It was her dainty hands and feet that first struck him as so utterly and delicately exquisite, with their rose pink nails and almost painful fragility. Her whole being seemed so frail that he felt an overpowering need to protect her from harm, although she had contrived to climb the wall up to his room and open the window - hardly the actions of a helpless and feeble woman!

She directed a lovely half sad smile at Jeremy and spoke to him in a voice that made him go weak at the knees. Her words seemed to come from a million miles away and yet were so clearly and distincly expressed that he heard every syllable, to say nothing of a whole world more of meaning than was contained merely in her voice.

"I said you'd not need those pyjamas, Jeremy. I don't want you wearing those silly things in bed ever again."

She came closer to him and threw her arms around his neck. He smelt the fragrance of her body, a mixture of jasmine and animal muskiness. His heart seemed almost to be about to jump out of the anchorage of his ribcage, so madly was it beating. All the tiredness which had afflicted him this last few weeks had miraculously disappeared and he felt a flood of energy so elemental and life enhancing that it surpassed anything, in terms of sheer fierce exhilaration, that he had ever known before.

"I don't know your name" he murmured as he responded to her embrace by enfolding her in his arms, feeling the lovely, firm but, oh! so soft, warmth of her rose-pink nipples pressed against his chest.

"Sabrina," she replied, before raising her face to his and kissing him on the lips. He had kissed plenty of girls before, much to their delight as well as his, but this was an experience entirely new to him. No other girl of his acquaintance had ever known how to put up such an incredible performance. Her sweet and nimble little tongue seemd to dance around his mouth. He responded in kind to her skilled lovemaking and they gradually subsided together onto the bed. After some minutes of passionate activity, she drew her head away from him and stared solemnly at him, her darling little hand clasped around the erect evidence of his manhood and arousal. Finally, she murmured, "I rather think that wonderful moment has come when you're good and ready for me, my darling lover boy!"

The next few hours passed far more pleasurably than he would ever have thought possible and a great deal more quickly than he would have liked. When he was quite exhausted - and it took a very long time and a great deal of strenuous activity before this happened - he fell asleep. When he woke up, the other side of the bed was empty and the window firmly closed - from the inside.

The next day was Christmas Eve. A newly energised Jeremy got out of bed and went to the adjacent bathroom, where he showered and shaved (his smooth young face still needed only a couple of shaves per week). After dressing, he made his way downstairs and into the breakfast room. His aunts were already up and about. They smiled brightly at him and bade him sit down at the table. Breakfast was nearly ready.

The first meal of the day was placed before him. As he picked at his food the lassitude, which had been such an unwelcome affliction of late, overcame him again. He pushed the plate away after a few minutes, with half the meal uneaten.

"Sorry, Auntie Frances. It was a lovely breakfast - as ever! - but I seem to have lost my appetite lately. I'll be right as rain after a few days here."

His aunt turned away, in order not to display the grief she was feeling, and took the plate back to the kitchen. She returned in a few seconds with a pot of coffee, from which Jeremy poured himself a cup. It tasted delicious and he said so, much to the good lady's pleasure.

"I hope you liked being in the front room, Jeremy, my dear." said Aunt Frances. "It's been such a long time since it was used, but it's the best of all our bedrooms and it seems such a shame not to use it just because of some silly superstitious nonsense."

Jeremy perked up at this. The memory of that recent wonderful night was still very fresh.

"What superstitious nonsense is this, Auntie?"

"Your great grandfather used to sleep there, together with your great grandmother of course. One day she was called away to her mother's sickbed in Upton on Severn and he was left to his own devices. She returned unexpectedly early, late one night, and when she went up to their bedroom, she found him in bed with some young woman. The lady in question leapt out of bed and escaped through the window, somehow managing to get down to the street without injury. Your great grandmother, being a very vengeful and vindictive woman, released the dogs to chase the young hussy and tear her limb from limb - or whatever. It was bitterly cold and the ground was under several inches of snow, but this woman, who was stark naked, ran way like the wind, pursued by the two slavering hounds.

"Next morning there was a search, but the bare footprints in the snow led down the path a few yards towards the river and then just disappeared. It was as if she had been whisked up into the air or something - or had instantaneously dematerialised! Nobody could ever come up with any rational explanation. It was assumed she was some sort of phantom and people were afraid to walk along that path for years afterwards! As for the two dogs, they were never seen again. I'm surprised I never told you about this before! So little of interest has ever happened around here in the last eight hundred years and I haven't told you about the only noteworthy thing that ever did - until now!

"Your great grandfather gave his wife some story about the woman coming through the window and seducing him. She didn't believe a word of that! A few weeks later, the poor old boy died, quite young, and the room was locked up thereafter, but it was over one hundred and fifty years ago, for Heaven's sake! Time to put the past behind us and open up our best room once again.

"People said that it was nice for him to have a beautiful young woman in his bed so near the end of his life after being married to such a dreadful old bitch!"

Jeremy absorbed all this and was silent for a few seconds. He changed the subject slightly.

"Is there anyone called Sabrina living around here?"

Both aunts shook their heads. Aunt Frances laughed and said. "Only if you go down to the river. You remember that mediaeval story of Geoffrey of Monmouth about Sabrina? The young maiden who drowned after some tragic episode or other and whose spirit is said to live in the River Severn to this day? I think Milton brought her into his poem 'Comus'. You know - 'Sabrina Fair' and all that."

Jeremy was silent. He recalled the words from 'Comus'

"Sabrina Fair,
Listen where thou art sitting
Under the glassy cool translucent wave,
In twisted braids of lilies knitting
The loose train of thy amber dropping hair..."