CHAPTER TWO - TUESDAY 21st DECEMBER

6:00 a.m.

Malcolm Smith slept restlessly, tossing and turning all night. Continually he found himself awake and thinking about the sketches needed for the new season's brochures. His problem was that he did not have the proper equipment available to do justice for himself. He knew all about professional artists, after all he once aspired to be one himself. If an outsider was commissioned to do the work, then he would be provided by the Company with all the necessary tools and models from which to work. And that was his big problem. He just could not compete on such a level. At present he had nothing but his own imagination, a sketch pad and a box of pencils with which to accomplish the task. Yet despite these drawbacks he was determined to do something about it. He vowed that somehow, come hell or high water, he would have a series of high quality drawings ready to present to Mr. McTavish as soon as he returned from Australia.
As morning approached, and with ways of producing drawings for the brochures still bearing down heavily on his mind, Malcolm found himself once more rudely awakened by the sound of loud pop music blaring out from his bedside radio. He blearily looked to the clock. The time was six o'clock and he cursed himself for failing to reset the alarm. Angrily he thumped the 'OFF' button, turned over and tried to get back to sleep. But it was no good and further rest was impossible. He decided to go down stairs and make himself a cup of tea.
He dressed slowly and sleepily, descended to the kitchen, put the kettle on and sidled across to the refrigerator. He yawned and peered inside at the empty shelf behind the door. Immediately he sensed that this was not going to be his day.
"Damn!" he swore.
He had forgotten that he was completely out of milk. He looked to the clock on the kitchen wall. The time was fifteen minutes past six. Alf's Café did not open until seven. Only the Paper Shop next door would be open for business at such an early hour. However, the small shop was known to sell practically anything, and always kept a few cartons of milk in the soft drinks cooler. He had little choice. If he wanted a cup of tea then he just had to go out and get some milk.
Putting on his anorak he set off, walking briskly to keep himself warm in the biting cold air of the morning. For a while he started to feel better, until he reached the road that was, then everything was to go wrong again. To say that he was having a bad day was an understatement; to call it a total disaster was probably much nearer the truth. After locking the service gate behind him and turning to face the row of small shops, his eyes fell upon a sight he had not expected to see at this early hour. For a few paces his steps faltered and he felt he ought to turn back. Being brave however, he managed to pull he himself together and keep on walking, telling himself not to be so stupid. His problem was Katie Brown. The redheaded girl was there, on the pavement, stood in front of him, with that large shoulder-bag of hers lying at her feet, and together they conspired to block his direct route to the paper shop.
To be truthful, all Katie was doing was standing outside Alf's Café and waiting for it to open. But all the same Malcolm got the distinct impression that she was doing it deliberately so as to embarrass him even further. She was stood with her back to Alf's window, the large fur collar of her coat turned up to protect her ears against the bitterly cold wind and her hands sunk deep in her pockets. She was looking in his direction. Timidly he kept on walking, but as close to the edge of  the pavement as possible in order to give her the widest berth.
"Phew! Cold one this morning Malcolm isn't it?" remarked the redhead as he got within hailing distance.
Her greeting gave Malcolm about two paces in which to think up an answer. He mumbled the first thing that came into his head. "Err... Yes... It is cold this morning!..." he stammered. He tried to think of something else to say, but his mind had gone completely blank.
Katie stepped away from the window. "You're up early this morning Malcolm!" she remarked.
The combination of both Katie moving forward, and the very mention of his name, turned the teenager's legs to jelly. Malcolm faltered in his stride and came to a halt. Embarrassed at finding himself stood face to face with Katie, he tried to say something that fitted the moment. "Err... just... err... I've just come for some err… milk to make myself a cup of err… tea," he told her, his legs trembling and cheeks burning.
"Core! What I'd give for a nice cup of tea right this minute!" she remarked and blowing into her hands to keep them warm.
"You're...  Err...  you're waiting for Alf's to open then?" he asked, then wondered why he had said that, for it was more than obvious what she was doing stood there.
She nodded. "More like freezing to death," she stated flatly. "Doesn't time pass slowly when you've got nothing else better to do? I've got over two hours to kill before I get to work, but at least I can spend one hour of that in the warmth of the café. Oh what I'd give for nice a cup of steaming hot tea right this minute!"
"Err... you... err... you can have a cup of tea over at err… my place if you like!" he told her, then immediately felt terribly ashamed. He had no idea why he had said what he did. She was going to laugh at his suggestion. He could feel it coming on.
Katie Brown did not laugh however; only a welcome sigh of relief passed her lips. "Oh yes please Malcolm, I'd just love to," she said snapping up the offer, and suddenly her face began to glow with delight.
Malcolm's mind was in turmoil. What was he going to do now? He had asked her back to his place and she had accepted. This was something he was not mentally prepared for. "Err... wait... err... you'd better wait here err… while I go and get the err… milk," he told her, then sped away quickly. He had been stood with her too long and needed some distance between themselves in order to collect his thoughts.
He took his time in the shop, buying not only the milk but several other items including four daily newspapers, three chocolate bars and an assortment of crisps and snacks. Only when he felt ready to face the outside world once more did he venture back out into the cold.
They crossed the road together, but at arms length, with Katie carrying her large shoulder-bag herself. At the side gate Malcolm checked the road for traffic and pedestrians. All was clear. There was not a soul about. The last thing on Earth he wanted was for Mr. McTavish to find out that he had allowed someone into the Amusement Park whilst he was away in Australia.
Katie talked mainly about herself as they made the long walk along the drive, through the back doors to the complex, and finally up the many twisting flights of stairs to the kitchen on the fourth floor. Malcolm for his part said very little. Content to just listen he discovered that Katie was a 'Lassie from Lancashire' who had been down in this part of the world for two years, and in all that time she had never visited the Amusement Park once. Furthermore she did not even know what was inside. However, she was obviously impressed by the enormity of the main four-storey building and was keen to voice her approval at every stage. Only when they were both seated at the kitchen table and had begun to sip their tea did Katie finally stop talking about herself.
It was during this lull in the conversation Malcolm found himself asking: "Err... you're err... you're up early again this morning... err... Got another office party to go to tonight?"
Both Katie's reaction and response were unexpected. The question was only meant to be a simple one of little consequence. However, Katie looked straight back at him with her big, round staring brown eyes and pulled a tortured face. Immediately he dropped his gaze inside his cup and cursed himself for asking such a personal question in the first place. Whatever did she think of him?
Katie began to relate a tale of woe: "I've just walked out on my boyfriend," she stated with a sigh, then after a brief pause went on to explain: "I told him I'd be staying at a friend's last night to save coming home drunk from the party. But it turned out to be such a drag I went back to the flat afterwards. I crept in, as quiet as a mouse so as not to disturb him. But when I opened the bedroom door, what did I find? I found the bastard in bed with a tart from the laboratory where he works. I didn't know what to do. I just jumped on the bed, stamped on his balls and had a go at scratching the little bitch's eyes out."
Malcolm winced at the thought but said nothing.
Katie took several deep breaths then continued: "Then after a blazing row I just couldn't stand  it anymore, I just grabbed my bag and stormed out. I've been walking the streets ever since just thinking about what to do next. I never want to lay my eyes on that low-life scum-bag ever again as long as I live, and as for that little slut Tracy Goodyear, oh what I'd love to do to her!"
A long period of silence followed. "Err.. what... err... do you intend to do next then?" Malcolm asked eventually.
Katie thought for a moment. "Look for somewhere else to stay I guess," she said. "I haven't had much time to think about it. But with Christmas coming up and the holidays, it's all a bit awkward. Today's my last day at work until the New Year. I'd managed to keep a few days back in reserve, so I got them tagged on before this main holiday. I've promised my mum I'd spend Christmas back home in Lancashire with her, so I guess I can't really do a great deal about anything till I get back."
Malcolm felt disappointed at the news that Katie was going away for Christmas. He wanted her always to be around. Even if it was only seeing her across the table in Alf's Café. "Err.. do you... err... do you think you'll find err… somewhere else to live then?" he asked sounding concerned.
"I haven't a clue Malcolm! I've never looked for a place before. I came down here with old lover-boy when he got this job at Kryton's. The firm organised the flat, and he talked them into getting a job for me in the offices. We were meant to be having a meaningful and lasting relationship! But never mind, it's all over with now, and I guess with all the vacant holiday places going around here, I can find somewhere temporary to stay until I get myself sorted out properly. It's just tonight that's the problem. I guess I'll just  have to find myself a room at a hotel somewhere."
"Err.. you... err... you can stay here tonight if you err… like.... And... err... even after Christmas... I suppose... until you find yourself a... err... new place to live… that is!..," he stuttered, then once again regretted every word he had spoken. With Katie in his presence he was so confused the words just kept spilling out. Upon reflection he added quickly: "Err.. that's err... that's until Mr. McTavish gets back, that is... he err.. mustn't ever find out..... or I'd.... err... get the sack if he did!"
Katie's eyes lit up immediately and her face began to glow. It was if all the troubles of the whole wide world had suddenly lifted from her shoulders. "Oh can I please Malcolm? Can I stay here? Just till I find myself some proper digs that is. That's a promise. If I could, I'd be so extremely grateful," she said whilst bubbling over with excitement.
"Err.. I... err... I don't see why not," he said, his head in a spin. "Err.. you... err... you can have Mr. McTavish's room I suppose.... err... providing you don't mess the err… place up that is... and err... you're out of there before he gets back."
"I'll pay for the room," she said, trying to set the offer on a financial basis.
"Err.. that... err... that doesn't matter," he told her. He had not thought of the money. "It's err… free accommodation here... I err… don't even have to pay."
Katie was seated at the table next to him. She leaned sideways, threw her arms about his shoulders and gave him a great big kiss on the cheek. "Malcolm, you're the most wonderful person in the whole wide world! Did you know that!" she said as she hugged him tightly.
Malcolm turned bright red and could feel his cheeks burning more fiercely then ever.
Katie returned to sitting back on her chair properly. "What shall I do then Malcolm?" she asked. "Shall I just come here after work tonight?" she asked.
"Err... I err... I don't see why not!" he replied, still in a state of deep shock and total disbelief at the situation he had got himself into.
"As I said, it'll only be for one night, then I'm away for Christmas, but I shall be back in time to let the New Year in. Perhaps we can go out then for the night. There's a big New Year's party going on at the Grand Hotel. Would you like to go there? I've got to pay you back somehow for all your kindness," she told him.
Apart from feeling totally befuddled, his brain in a whirl, there was also a great sense of excitement within Malcolm, both at the thought of having Katie stopping with him, and at the prospect of going out with her on New Year's Eve. But he tried hard not to let his emotions flood out. "Err.. you... err... you can move in whenever you like. The err... room's empty. And let's err… wait till you get err... back before deciding anything about err… New Year's Eve," he told her.
"Malcolm,  you're wonderful, just wonderful!" she answered back.
"Will it be all right just to leave my bag here then? It's got a few clothes inside I packed for last night. They'll do me for today. I've even got my toothbrush packed so I don't even need to get back to the flat straightaway. I do need to collect a few things for the journey home though, but it'll do the bastard good to start wondering where I stormed off to!"
Malcolm considered all the implications. His main concern was her comings and goings, and more specifically the locking and unlocking of the gates. The contorted look upon his face prompted Katie into asking: "Is something wrong Malcolm?"
He struggled to relate his fears. "Err... Err... There's one small problem... Mr. McTavish... err... left strict instructions that the err… gates remain locked at all times.... and err... no visitors. Err.. You mustn't be seen... err… coming in or going out.... It err… must be our... err... little secret... You mustn't... err... tell anyone that you are stopping here... err… not even at work.... Is that err... perfectly clear?" he explained nervously.
For a moment Katie sat staring back at him through her big brown eyes. Her joy at being offered somewhere to stay had overshadowed all the practicalities. Suddenly aware of the pitfalls and sounding concerned herself, she asked: "What's the best thing for me to do then Malcolm?"
"The err... flat where you live.... it's err...just a little way along the sea front, err… just beyond where the railings end, err… isn't it?" he queried.
She nodded. That was true. She had to walk the railings for a good half mile from her flat to Alf's Café. On these dark mornings, with the deserted sea front on the opposite side, it could be a very lonesome and sometimes scary walk.
"Err.. do you know the small gate... err... just up the alley that runs between the err… grounds and that first big house err… up the road?" he asked.
She nodded thoughtfully. She knew of the alleyway and small gate which was only a stones throw away from her flat. But from memory she thought it to be all rusted up. "I think so! But does it open?" she said hesitantly.
"Well... err.. yes… it's just been refurbished and err… a new padlock fitted... if I err... give you the key... You err... can use it... and come and go.... err... as you please.... But look around first... and err... make sure no-one else is about..... and err… make your way around the back of the err... funfair... to err… here...," he stammered, then looking for confirmation that she clearly understood, he added. "Is that all err… perfectly clear?"
She blew hard and long. It was not difficult to tell that Malcolm was being deadly serious over not being seen and she tried to allay his fears. "That's fine by me," she confirmed. "I'll be as quiet as a mouse. No-one will ever see me coming or going, and no-one at work will ever get to know either, I promise. It'll be the worlds best kept secret," she vowed solemnly.
Malcolm smiled for the first time since making the offer. "It's err.. all settled then... You may err... leave your bag... and err... stay here until you find yourself err… some place of your own to stay," he told her.
Katie leant forward, gave him another hug and kissed him on the lips. "Malcolm, I love you!" she enthused.
The teenager felt his cheeks burning, but did not resist the hug, and actually found himself puckering his own lips to give her a partial peck back.
Suddenly the embrace ended as Katie noticed the kitchen clock. The time was fast approaching half past seven. "Mmmm... time for just one more cup of tea I guess, then I must be off." She stood up, and taking their two empty mugs to the kettle, added: "If I'm going to be staying here for a while then I'd better get used to giving a helping hand now and again!"
Malcolm made no objections. He was day-dreaming again. Deep in thought he looked on as Katie glided gracefully across the kitchen floor to the sink. Beneath all the Winter layers of clothing he was perceiving a perfectly shaped, small round naked bottom. The boy, seated in a trance at the table, was happy to let her get on with whatever she wanted to do, just as long as he retained these incredible visions in his mind.

6:00 p.m.

Katie had hinted that she would most probably arrive back from work sometime around six o'clock that evening. But because it was her last day in the office before the long Christmas break she could not put an accurate time on things. So on departure that morning Malcolm had presented her with two keys, one for the side gate in the alley and the other to unlock a small service door at the rear of the main building. This way she could both let herself in and make her own way up to the living quarters without having to stand around outside in the cold waiting for him.
Malcolm was listening out for her in the kitchen when he heard a door slam in the corridors below. Quickly he moved to the top of the stairs to greet his guest. The redhead appeared a little out of breath from the long climb. She was wearing the same fur-collared coat and looking in much need of some warmth, for it was still bitterly cold outside.
The teenager was feeling both nervous and excited. He had never been this close to someone from the opposite sex before, and despite his great pleasure at having Katie around, he was badly in need of some confidence. To be quite honest all he really wanted to do was make Katie happy and to like him as a person. As a consequence he had spent the last few hours preparing a meal. It was nothing exciting, just a small turkey he had found in the freezer, a few frozen peas and carrots and half a dozen boiled potatoes. But he had gone to a lot of trouble to make their one and only meal together before Christmas appear a little festive. It must also be appreciated that for someone only capable of preparing the humble baked beans on toast, or warming up tins of soups, then this was a great culinary leap forward for the teenager.
Malcolm greeted  his guest with a smile. "Hello Katie!" he said nervously, then asked the question that had worried him from the moment she departed: "Did you... err... get through the err… gate okay? Nobody else err… see you? This morning or err… tonight?"
"No problem Malcolm! This place is dead at this time of the year," she told him as she placed her cold hands upon the side of his face and pecked him on the lips.
His legs melted and his cheeks fired up. All of a tremble, he asked awkwardly: "Err... You're cold! Do you err... want a warm first... Or err… do you want err... to go up to Mr. McTavish's room? It is err... ready."
She answered neither question. She could smell the turkey in the oven. "Are you cooking something Malcolm?" she queried. "Whatever it is, it sure smells good!"
He nodded. "There's err... enough for two, but it's not err... quite ready yet," he apologised.
"Oh great! I'm starving!" she enthused. "But I'd like to see my room first please Malcolm, if I may, and then I'd love to take a shower. I feel filthy. I haven't had a proper wash for two days. I need to freshen up first."
Malcolm took Katie up the last flight of stairs to the bedrooms in the attics. "Err.. err...," he stammered as he opened the door to Mr. McTavish's room. "Please err... try to remember how err… the place looks," he reminded her.
Katie eyed around the room taking in all the details. Her shoulder-bag left behind that morning lay upon the bed. This, and the clearance of the desk being the only changes to the view taken in by Malcolm the previous day. The teenager had found little need to do much else except lock away the Dungeon Project and the rest of the notes in the cabinet, then dust and vacuum the place.
"Err.. err..," he coughed nervously. "Remember, the room must err… look exactly like this when err… Mr. McTavish gets back."
"No problem Malcolm," said Katie with a smile and tried to comfort him by adding: "Don't worry, I'll look after the place, I promise."
She turned and pecked him on the lips. The kiss made him go all weak at the knees and  he felt his legs buckle beneath him. "Err.. I'll err... leave you to err... sort yourself out then... The... err... bathroom's down the hall... err… on the left," he said departing backwards through the door.
As soon as Malcolm had retired to the kitchen Katie took a long shower and put on something more comfortable. In her bag she had packed some sexy clothes for the party the night before, but she was well aware that Malcolm was on edge, so instead decided to dress sensibly. She had also packed a pair of casual slacks and an oversized floppy crew-neck jumper to wear at her friend's house afterwards. She put these on then went down stairs.
Whilst waiting for the turkey to finish cooking, Malcolm had kept himself pre-occupied by browsing through some working drawings in order that tomorrow he may complete a project started earlier that day. Before Mr. McTavish's departure the Scotsman had left a list of instructions for his underling to work through during his absence. One of those duties was to assemble a device for the new Dungeon Project: An item which had recently been delivered from France. Malcolm had set about this task soon after saying goodbye to Katie that morning, and it had taken him the best part of the day to assemble all the intricate gearing. But now thankfully all the hard work was done, and all that remained for him was to add a few minor details to complete what was essentially 'Item One' on his list of things to be done whilst his boss was away.
Malcolm had the plans spread out across a kitchen work surface and was browsing through them when Katie appeared. It was his intention to put them away long before she came down the stairs, but unfortunately the redhead gave very little warning of her arrival. This was not intentional, but with a heavily carpeted hallway and a pair of comfortable sports trainers on her feet it was difficult to make much noise barring a cough or a sneeze. The teenager heard a shuffle and spun round to find Katie standing in the open doorway. More than a little surprised he hastily folded over the plans and smiled nervously towards the door. "Err.. turkey's err... almost ready.... err... cup of tea first?" he asked.
"Oh yes please!" she called across the room.
With his mind once more in turmoil, Malcolm took down two mugs from a high cupboard and set about the task of making the tea.
Katie crossed the room to stand next to the folded plans on the work surface. "What's this you were looking at Malcolm?" she asked curiously.
"Err... just some err… working drawings," he replied whilst at the same time trying to sound indifferent over the entire matter.
"Working drawings of what?" she asked. "Can I take a peek?"
Malcolm spun around to stop her, but before he had time to say no, Katie was beginning to unfold the large sheet of paper and spread it out on the surface. He felt troubled and wanted to say something to prevent her seeing it, but it was too late, the deed was already done and she was browsing over the contents before he had time to raise any sort of objection. "Err.. it's... err... it's only the plans to something err… down in the basement. I'm err... I'm err... putting the thing together for when err… Mr. McTavish gets back," he told her whilst at the same time feeling rather uncomfortable over the whole issue.
"Everything's in French!" she remarked, running a finger across the notes laid out in boxes by a draughtsman.
"It err... it was drawn in err... France... that's why," he told her stating the obvious.
She could sense that Malcolm was not going to reveal a great deal on the subject unless she pumped him hard for the information. However she was somewhat intrigued by what she saw and wanted to find out more. "What's this a drawing of then?" she quizzed. "And what's this wheel do?" she added laying a finger on a ships' style wheel drawn on the plan.
Malcolm felt another hot flush of embarrassment coming on. What on Earth was he going to tell her? The drawing was of a mediaeval torturing device, a rack to be precise, and most definitely not of a subject he felt capable of talking about in front of Katie. "That's err... that's a winding wheel," he told her side-stepping the question neatly.
"What does it wind then Malcolm?" she asked curiously.
"It err.. it winds err... one of the new season's displays. It's err… a new err... exhibit for the waxworks, err... that's all!" he told her hesitantly.
She looked at the heading in big letters across the top of the drawing and read aloud one of the words, she knew a bit of French, but was not sure of the meaning of 'Tourmenter'. Surely not the obvious. She glanced up at him requiring assistance then asked him outright in her best French accent: "Malcolm, what's a 'Tourmenter'?"
He shook his head. At least he was being honest. His knowledge of French was zero.
"My French isn't that good,…" she confessed, "but it must mean the same as in English: 'Tormentor'. Is that what this is Malcolm?… Is this a drawing of something that torments people?… You know?… Something like a rack? The thing they used to stretch people on?…"
Malcolm felt his cheeks beginning to burn. Katie was right. "It's err... it's.. err... it's... for the new Dungeon Project down below," he told her whilst trying to busy himself by plopping a tea bag into each mug.
"Then this heading does mean 'Tormentor', or something like that?" she queried whilst remaining totally unabashed.
He gave a little nod. "Err... something like that!" he told her quietly.
Unaware of the turmoil going on in the young man's head she read the full heading out aloud in French then tried to give it her best shot at interpretation: "Details  of... the replica of... the tormentor... found in the... cul de basse fosse?... I think that's basement... or probably a dungeon in this case... of the Chateaux du Loire... near Tours. I think that's a rough translation of what it all means."
Malcolm was lost for words. Why did she always do this to him? He tried to think of something to say, maybe even try to change the subject, but luckily, at that point, the kettle came to the boil to save him further embarrassment, and instead of giving a reply he busied himself by making the drinks.
"What have you got these plans for anyway? And why are they all in French?" she asked as he carried the teas across.
Malcolm placed a mug on the surface next to Katie's hand and moved to sit down at the table on the side farthest away from where she stood. He felt safer that way. Nervously he swallowed a hot mouthful. However things were still going badly for him. Looking up from the table he could see that she was still anxiously awaiting an answer. He swallowed hard and explained the best he could: "Err.. err... I've err.. been assembling the thing all day... It's err... a replica of a err… rack found over in a French chateau... and err… the experts say that it's virtually identical to the err… one found in the ruins over on Castle Point.... I was... err... just using the plans to check and err… see which way round the drum the err… ropes go."
Katie leaned across the drawing to take a closer look. "So it is a rack then!… It all looks very complicated to me," she told him afterwards, and to be quite honest about it, not understanding the plans at all well.
"Err... it's not that err… complicated," he told her truthfully.
"Malcolm, you must be very clever to understand all this! I wouldn't know where to start," she told him, and at the same time traced a finger across the surface of the drawing.
For a moment there was silence whilst Katie took a sip of tea. Malcolm felt relief for a second or two, but she was not finished. "Malcolm, I'd love to see what you've been doing today. I'm very interested in Mediaeval History. Will you show me please? Can I see your tormentor?" she asked politely whilst placing the mug back on the surface alongside the plans.
Malcolm was horrified at the thought and his muscles tensed even more than they already were. In the end he said nothing.
Katie however was determined not to be put off by his reticence. "Please Malcolm, don't torment me like this rack of yours!… Please let me see!.. Oh please Malcolm!… Please!"
 "Err...  err..," he hesitated before finally yielding to her request. "Err... well... err.. I suppose so," he submitted, after being unable to think of a suitable objection on the spur of the moment.
"Oh thank you Malcolm!… Thank you!… You're so wonderful!… My little tormentor is going to show me his own 'la grande tourmenter'!" bubbled Katie, and uttering the last few words in a strong French accent.
Malcolm felt slightly embarrassed at both being described as a little tormentor and not understanding French properly. He turned to the clock on the kitchen wall. "Err... in err... perhaps later then," he mumbled and trying to be as vague and as non-committal as possible. Then a thought occurred to him. "I err.. thought you err… wanted to get back to your flat and err... rescue a few things before you err… catch the train in the morning," he reminded her.
Katie did not disagree with the statement. Her expression of delight turned to one of deep concentration whilst she considered what best to do.
Eventually she spoke: "That's  true Malcolm," she stated flatly. "I did want to be away pretty smartish in the morning and catch the first train to London. But we've still got plenty of time tonight haven't we? I know, let's say we eat first, then I'll pop over to the flat and get my things, and when I get back we can go and take a little peek at what you've been doing today. How's that sound? I know I'm being a nuisance, but I'd just love to see what you've got down there before I go, I really would Malcolm! Please can I? Oh please Malcolm! Please!"
Katie's insistence, probably combined with the demure look upon her face, eventually caused Malcolm to concede. "Oh! Err.. all right then. I'll err... take you err... to see it after you get back from err… the flat," he promised.
She grinned broadly across the kitchen at him. "Oh thank you Malcolm, thank you. You're a darling," she said in deep satisfaction, and she gave a little sigh.
After that Katie became a little more subdued and far less talkative. Maybe she was still thinking of the rack, or maybe she did not want to offend anymore, but either way it brought welcome relief to Malcolm. In relative silence she assisted with making the gravy and dishing out the vegetables whilst he sliced the turkey.
With two huge meals on the table and ready to eat, Katie called Malcolm over to her, and she threw her arms about him. "Merry Christmas Malcolm," she said and gave him a big kiss, a real smacker on the lips then slid her tongue down his throat. "That's for being so wonderful," she told him as she broke away from the clench.
Malcolm was speechless, an amorphous blob in her hands. Like a tame kitten he sat down at the table and set about eating his meal. It was only afterwards, with a second cup of tea in their hands did they make plans. Malcolm agreed to go with Katie as far as the small gate. The flat was only a few houses up the promenade beyond the alleyway, and it was agreed that he would remain there until she returned, then help carry the suitcases back.
Outside the temperature had dropped to somewhere around minus ten, and the lawns and railings were thicker than ever with frost. Katie was wearing her heavy coat, her ears protected by the thick fur collar, and Malcolm had his anorak hood up. At the side gate he let her go on alone, watching her tread gingerly on the ice. He did not like the conditions underfoot, and barely a minute had passed before he decided to follow. He would go to the end of the alley and check that she had managed to get to the flat safely. He arrived at the corner just in time to see her turning into a small front garden and stepping up to the door of one of the terraced houses down the row. He waited until she had put the key in the latch and entered before creeping up the street to the front of the house.
Her boyfriend's dark blue estate car was parked outside in the road. Malcolm had seen it before, with him at the wheel and Katie sat by his side. His name was Richard, or something like that. He had only heard his name mentioned once before and could not quite remember. The number on the door read '127A-D', suggesting that the house was divided into four flats. But he could not see how, the place was so small, unless there was an extension to the back of the terrace, or a basement or attic that he could not see.
Lights were on in the ground floor front room, and the curtains were not drawn. From behind the low wall and waist-high privet hedge Malcolm peered in. By the sound of the commotion coming from the room a fierce argument already raged.
Katie was standing face to face and doing verbal battle with another female. Malcolm assumed this other girl to be Tracy Goodyear. She was, if anything, a little younger than Katie, about twenty-one, maybe twenty-two, with longish black hair, swooping waves, smallish nose and pointed chin. In both height and physique there appeared very little difference between Katie and the girl apart from one obvious area: This girl's tits were huge. They were like overripe watermelons, and as she argued they wobbled and bounced ferociously within the constraints of what must have been an oversized double-D bra every time she had a point to make.
The argument appeared to be getting more and more heated by the second. A man moved into vision trying to keep the two squabbling females apart. He appeared to be restricted in his movements, and having great trouble walking. Malcolm recognised him immediately as Katie's boyfriend, or ex-boyfriend as he surely was by now.
Katie appeared to be getting very excited and was screaming at the top of her voice. She was now addressing the man and could be heard quite plainly out in the street. Malcolm was shocked to hear such bad language coming from a woman: "Fucking keep the cow then! Where's my things? I'm fucking off! And I don't ever fucking want to see you ever again... Is that fucking clear?" And with that he saw Katie swing round and catch the man a beauty in the crutch with a flying karate kick. The man collapsed to the floor, disappearing from view, and Katie headed for the door. Quickly Malcolm sped off down the road to take refuge in the alley.
In the distance he heard a door slam and possibly even a pane of glass shatter, it was hard to tell. Quickly he moved back up the alley to wait by the gate as arranged. Katie arrived within a minute, struggling with two big heavy cases. He could see that she was upset but he said nothing as he held the gate open for her.
"Do you know what they'd already gone and done?" she ranted as she tossed the two cases to the ground. "The bastards' had already gone and packed my things. That slut put him up to it! I'll get her! I'll get that little bitch if it's the last thing I do! You just watch me!"
Katie was still fuming as they scaled the last flight of stairs and dumped the cases on the bed in Mr. McTavish's room. Malcolm had helped by carrying the largest and most heaviest case and was out of breath. He had expected the same of Katie, but it was difficult to tell. She remained livid, with all her pent-up anger channelled towards a certain Miss Tracy Goodyear. Malcolm thought it prudent to leave her alone to unpack and cool down. He was just closing the door behind him when Katie took a deep breath, collected herself and called him back: "Malcolm! Come here! Now!" she ordered, standing with hands on hips and looking like a stern Governess.
He sidled sheepishly back into the room. Katie had a certain determined look in her eyes and he averted his gaze. "Malcolm, come here!" she repeated this time with a finger pointing to a spot by her feet. The boy edged sheepishly closer until they stood face to face. Then she pulled him to her chest, threw her arms about him, and kissed him hard and long.
"I'll err... leave you to err… unpack," he told her as he broke the clench and stepped away towards the door.
Katie sniffled deeply through the nose. It was obvious that she was still very angry and upset. The kiss had offered little comfort. "All right Malcolm, I'll see you later. I'll come down to the kitchen when I've sorted out a few things and decided what to leave here and what to take home with me tomorrow," she told him in a quiet and subdued voice that was totally out of character.
Malcolm made his way down to the kitchen feeling pretty miserable himself. He had hoped for such a lot this evening and it had all come to nothing. He was half expecting Katie not to appear again till morning when he had promised to take her to the railway station. With a feeling of gloom and deep depression hanging over him, he sat down at the kitchen table, rested his elbows on the surface and cupped his sagging chin in his hands. He would sit and stare out into the empty hallway and hope and pray that his beloved Katie would come down to him.

10:00 p.m.

The big finger on the kitchen clock had just edged its way past ten o'clock when Katie made her re-appearance. Whilst waiting Malcolm had listened to all her goings on through the ceiling above. Firstly there had been footsteps; heavy, stomping treads accompanied by slamming doors. Then the plumbing had taken up the cause, to thump and hiss its own protest for some thirty minutes or more whilst she remained under the shower. Afterwards the footsteps were much quieter and the closing of doors less earth shattering as she returned across the narrow hallway to the bedroom.
Since that time, and for more than an hour afterwards, all had been quiet. All this had managed to put Malcolm in a very sombre mood, and in this melancholic state, with his defences down, Katie appeared in the doorway.
"K....K...Katie," he uttered, but that was all he could manage, for he had been caught unawares by her sudden return and now found himself in deep shock at the way she was dressed.
The redhead, fresh from her shower had changed into what she deemed to be her most sexiest attire. This consisted of a short black leather mini-skirt, a flimsy white chiffon blouse, a pair of black nylon stockings, and the highest pair of black high-heeled shoes she could find. The skirt was so short it barely covered her backside, and in its sparseness, between stocking tops and hem, a wide gap of flesh existed that was crossed only by four of the narrowest black suspender straps imaginable. But that was not all, above the waistline, the blouse that she wore was virtually see-through, and did practically nothing to conceal the black, low-cut, lacy bra that she wore beneath.
Katie saw the petrified look upon Malcolm's face and apologised quickly: "Oh Malcolm I'm sorry, I didn't mean to upset you," she told him, and at the same time she cast an arm across her breasts to shield the shadowy image of her bra beneath the transparent material of the blouse. She tried to explain: "Malcolm, I just had to do this! I just had to change into something sexy. That slut Tracy Goodyear made me feel so cheap and vulgar back there, I just had to do this!"
To be truthful, once over the initial shock, Malcolm did not mind one little bit, and he tried to put her mind to rest. "Don't worry Katie, it's err... all right... I err... I don't mind at all... In fact, you look err... quite stunning dressed like that, if I err... may say so!" he said trying hard to reassure her.
Katie pulled herself together: "That's very nice of you Malcolm," she said and wearing a not too convincing smile. For a short while there was silence, then she clapped her hands together and called: "Right Malcolm! You promised to take me to see this dungeon of yours, remember? Well let's be going then! Let's see it!" And with that she turned and stepped back into the corridor as a signal for him to join her.
 

cont.