“If we don’t make significant progress today, perhaps we might invite Henry to report to us here at our morning meeting?” she suggested.
“That sounds perfectly reasonable Athena; so be it” replied Erebus “let’s move on to the next item on our official agenda.”
Up north in Runcorn Therese was stirring beside him; Colin slid out from under the covers and headed for the bathroom. He needed a pee and a shower, in that order. He was also keen on leaving Runcorn this morning to find a more interesting place to spend the next couple of days relaxing.
After he had eased the load on his bladder Colin opened the shower door just a touch and tested the water. The steam rolled out of the stall, creeping over the mirror. That’s what he needed; an invigorating hot shower! He stepped in to the cubicle. Just as he was leaning his head back and soaking his hair it occurred to him that he didn’t get a towel. He slid the door open to get one from the towel rack.
Therese’s smiling face appeared next to the open shower door with a towel wrapped around her.
“Were you looking for this?” she asked.
Dropping the towel she stepped in with him. Colin groaned. His body was letting him down again. The sight of her incredible, dark athletic body made him react accordingly.
Therese leant in to him and kissed him beneath his ear. Colin reached for her lips, giving up any thought of non-cooperation and kissed her, trapping her tongue with his. He reached one hand under her thigh and lifted it up higher, opening her up and pressed his swollen member against her. He continued to kiss her and slipped inside her.
They continued to pleasure one another as the hot water pummeled their bodies. Sliding up and down, grinding against him, and using her legs as leverage Therese worked him hard, gripping his back with her fingernails, her legs quivering and her sighs escaping in one massive wave of ecstasy.
They paused for a moment, to catch their breath and then Colin began once more to thrust into her; they were both panting and gasping now as her hips pressed back to meet him. He continued to thrust until he was completely drained; and then he grabbed the soft towel she had brought with her and wrapped it around them.
“I’m hungry; what’s for breakfast?” Colin asked.
“Wasn’t I enough?” said Therese pouting.
“More than enough” said Colin “but sex always gives me an appetite.”
“I can see I’m going to have to keep making you hungry then!” said Therese.
The rest of the morning drifted away while they found something to eat and then decide where to go for their short break.
“Blackpool’s a great place to visit” enthused Therese “any time of the year.”
Colin wasn’t convinced; he remembered the looks on the faces of the guys from Maiden’s Hair when they turned up at the next venue after being given a few days off from the grind of their tour. Blackpool is the most deprived of England’s larger seaside towns, and suffers far more poverty and crime than the national average.
Life is a struggle with high unemployment and the worst death rate of any place in Britain; alcoholism is rife and drug taking common. On the Grange Park estate, one of the largest in Lancashire, residents talk of dealers operating openly on the streets. Colin had listened to Vincent Gagnon and the rest comparing the seaside resort to many of the worst parts of the cities back in their native Canada.
“Man” Vincent had said “you can keep your stick of rock and kiss me quick hats! And what the hell is it about you Brits with donkeys on the beach?”
Colin was listening to Therese wax lyrical about the miles of beach and promenade and all its attractions and all the time he was thinking that he ought to ask Erebus if there were any direct actions in Blackpool that would justify a visit for business purposes rather than ‘pleasure’.
Eventually he got Therese to pack a bag and phone for a taxi so they could set off to the station; it was early afternoon already and no matter how efficient Virgin Trains were it was going to take a couple of hours via Liverpool Lime Street to get to the seaside!
“Half a day of my holiday wasted!” thought Colin “well, apart from that time in the shower; that was pretty memorable!”
Therese knew Blackpool pretty well so it wasn’t long before she had found a decent hotel to stay in; Colin wasn’t going to slum it in the back streets. Not when Erebus was paying. They had a second floor room that would have looked out over the Central Pier if the other buildings hadn’t been in the way. It was central and close to the front, so as far as Colin was concerned it would do.
The rest of Tuesday was spent checking out the double bed, finding a restaurant that served something other than fish and chips, having a few drinks and then almost running back to the hotel for an early night.
“This sea air is so bloody tiring” said Colin.
“Just once more sweetheart, please?” purred Therese.
They fell asleep about three o’clock.
The weather was pretty autumnal on Wednesday and Thursday so most of the daylight hours were spent dashing between Madame Tussaud’s, where Colin half expected to see himself; the sea life centre and Ripley’s Believe it or Not.
Therese wanted to see anything and everything associated with the Tower; so they visited the Ballroom, the Dungeon and Jungle Jim’s. Colin drew the line at the Eye. No matter how good the view might have been if it hadn’t been raining all the way to Ireland, there was no way he was going four hundred feet up in the air and standing on a sheet of glass. No thank you!
He paid for Therese to go up on her own; half the reason for that was to get a bit of peace and quiet and the other was to cast a weary eye over the scene he saw around him, if he looked past the glitzy façade of the Pleasure Beach and the Golden Mile.
In the bars they had visited he overheard the locals talking about a worrying type of visitor to the area; the dole tourist. Thousands claiming housing and incapacity benefits had moved to the town for a year-round holiday, but had forgotten to pack their bucket and spade. So many people were unemployed; yet when you go to the bars and clubs, they’re packed with people. It didn’t make sense to Colin.
He remembered those early days with him and Karen when they used to nurse their drinks to last through an evening in the pub, listening to the live band, with only enough money at the end of the week for one night out. He worked hard to provide for his wife and daughter; Karen did her bit too, once Sharron was a bit older. Why weren’t other people prepared to do what they did back in the day?
Sat with Therese in a café at lunch time on the Thursday he looked at the people sat around them; nearly everyone else in the place seemed to be on drugs. You could tell the ones with a few quid; they showed all the signs of being on cocaine or heroin. Heaven knows what the rest of them were on!
Therese was sympathetic to a degree; her life in Manchester had given her a tough grounding in how hard things could be for many people.
“You don’t know what it’s like up here, living in the soft South like you do. There is work out there if you put in some effort finding it, but a lot of people up here like to sit on their backsides doing nothing and the government makes it worthwhile them not doing anything different.”
Colin shook his head. It didn’t make sense.
When they had finished their meal, they made their way outside; the rain had thankfully stopped for a while and the sun was making a valiant attempt at breaking through the fast scudding dark clouds. Colin nearly stumbled over two women sitting on the edge of the pavement drinking cans of strong cider. It was just after one o’clock; they could barely talk so when they slurred a few words in his direction he wasn’t sure whether they were bad mouthing him or telling him to have a nice day. It was no surprise that they looked old before their time.