‘I don’t believe you’.
‘What?!’, Dick exclaimed, absentmindedly raising his voice and attracting unwanted attention from two elderly well-to-do women sitting nearby.
‘I think you’re saying this because you’re still jealous of this Mr. Parnell and because you want to make a fool of me and Taylor for what happened between us’, Alice explained, crossing her arms across her chest, making her generous bosom even more prominent. There was a time and a place for this sort of pleasant diversion, thought Dick, and this was neither.
‘Alice! You have to trust me! I’m telling you this so you can all take steps to protect yourselves. I’m doing this because I don’t want any of you to be hurt. Parnell is a trained killer. He’s carrying a new type of gun that can avoid detection and he’s planning to use it!’.
Alice had the sort of expression that was halfway between someone who was very bored and someone who didn’t care.
‘You’ve got no proof at all, have you?’, she asked.
‘Actually I have’, Dick told her. He fumbled around in both of his inside jacket pockets. ‘I know it’s here somewhere… where did I put it… it’s a signed confession from David Parnell…’ Alice’s eyes registered astonishment.
‘Of course I don’t have proof!’, Dick was raising his voice again and one of the elderly women tutted. He held Alice’s hands and looked her straight in the eyes. ‘I wasn’t going to tell you this but I’m warning you, not just so you can save your skin, but because…’ Dick hesitated and lowered his voice. ‘I love you!’. Ignoring Alice’s look of shock Dick continued. ‘I’m not going to come between you and Taylor at all but you should know that I couldn’t live with myself if anything happened to you, or any of the Resistance!’
Alice was stunned into silence.
‘Listen to me carefully. This is what you must do…’
Dick outlined a detailed plan that she had to convey to Taylor. Throughout the instructions Alice remained wide-eyed, When Dick had finished she shook her head.
‘Taylor will not agree to that’, she told him.
‘He has to!’, Dick explained. ‘You have to appreciate what needs to be done and convince him!’. Dick stole another glance at his watch. It was ten to eight and he barely had time to join his colleagues at the restaurant. ‘Now I really do have to be going’. He leant forward and kissed Alice gently on each cheek, lingering so he could whisper, ‘Remember, this is the only solution. Desperate times require desperate measures’.
Dick left the café, turning round one last time as he left to see an emotional, confused and apprehensive Alice. After momentarily collecting her thoughts, she too departed.
Dick attended the dinner with his colleagues knowing there was nothing more he could do, apart from waiting. Well, apart from waiting and worrying. And suffering a series of anxiety attacks. The fate of his resistance colleagues lay in the hands of a mechanical woman who probably didn’t believe him, and her very possessive and jealous lover who probably didn’t trust him. Dick tried to relax but even the pre-dinner drinks failed to reduce his stress-levels while small-talk during the hors d’oeuvres similarly failed to take his mind off events. Dick was lost in his thoughts as a very smartly-dressed waiter wheeled a large silver tureen up to the table. With a theatrical flourish he removed the cover to reveal crispy duck in orange brandy source. Unknown to Dick, at the exact same moment in the resistance lounge, Susan was also removing something with an equally melodramatic gesture; David Parnell’s blindfold. He was surrounded by fifteen or so resistance members, a good turn out for a wet Wednesday.
Once the loud applause had died down Taylor gave a short speech welcoming Mr. Parnell, commenting that he was pleased his recruitment process was now over and how it was an outstanding coup having him as a fully-fledged member of the Resistance. His turn to speak, David thanked everyone for making him feel at home and said he couldn’t wait to use his inside knowledge of the Party against it. This was the cue for more clapping. As this petered out, Taylor announced a slight change to the order of the evening’s proceedings. With his arm on David’s shoulder Taylor spoke. ‘The first part of our evenings traditionally deals with training, intelligence sharing, mission planning, those sort of things, while the second half is dedicated to some well-earned rest and relaxation. Well, partly in celebration of David becoming a full resistance member, and partly because I feel so bloody horny tonight, we’re going to swap the evening around’. Everyone in the audience was surprised at this change in plans, but pleasantly so.
Addressing David, Taylor said, ‘You know we practice free sex here, well I’ve arranged a sort of initiation as a way of thanking you for joining us. That way you can appreciate first-hand what loyal Party supporters are missing out on!’
When the whoops of delight from the audience subsided David said that while he was grateful for the offer, he really wanted to start work right away. Taylor would have none of it, however and while other members paired-up, he showed David into the main bedroom which had been illuminated by scented candlelight.
‘One of the female members will be in shortly’, Taylor said, ‘to give you a lesson in love’. With that he gave David a wink and a friendly slap on the back. David shrugged, thinking he might as well enjoy himself before the killing spree began. He undressed, carefully hiding the small ceramic pistol that had escaped detection in the middle of his folded clothes, and got into the soft bed. A few minutes later the door opened again. An attractive woman entered and walked over to him, dropping her silk robe to reveal her complete nakedness. David sighed and lay back with his hands clasped behind his head thinking that as sacrifices on behalf of the Party went, this was one of the least arduous. The woman pulled back the covers and climbed on to the bed, straddling him. David smiled some more. A woman taking control of the situation? This was a totally new experience and one that he was already beginning to enjoy. Lovemaking with his wife was predictable and boring, with all the sensuality of making love to a mackerel. He’d heard stories about different positions and sexual experimentation but had dismissed these as the most preposterous fiction or Resistance propaganda. Now it seemed, he was going to discover the truth.
As candlelight flickered over the full breasts of his lover she inched her way down David’s body. Within moments he was fully aroused. Skilfully manoeuvring herself up and forwards, she gently lowered herself on to David who entered her with ease. He gasped and thrust his hips in time with the slow, rhythmic lovemaking which gradually picked up pace. The speed increased, slightly faster than David would have liked, but he wasn’t going to complain. He did, however, think of saying something when what had started as a feeling of rapture changed into one of discomfort. Protests, gentle at first but then increasingly more vocal, fell on deaf ears as his lover ground her hips faster and faster like a woman possessed.
The more David complained, the more she increased her tempo until what was taking place on the bed was not so much lovemaking as something you’d witness at a rodeo. Soon David was awash with sweat. Despite his superior strength, pinned down by her weight and shaken by her constant thrusts, he couldn’t dislodge the woman who was now grinding away, seemingly oblivious to his distress. A minute later and pleasure had all but changed into pain. Her speed had increased to such a degree that David was having difficulty breathing and he began to feel slightly nauseous. The friction between their groins became so severe that pubic hair started smouldering, giving off a very unpleasant singed odour. That alone would usually be enough to destroy any amorous mood but in David’s case there was something else which spoiled the moment — the onset of blurred vision and the sudden tightening of his chest. The last thing he saw before his cardiac arrest was the face of his lover staring down at him. The cold, emotionless face of Alice. The face of someone who’d just shagged a man to death.