Alfie really fancied Emma, and he was quietly confident that she felt the same way about him. Their kissing and fumbling had become quite intense of late, and Alfie felt sure that it was time for him to make the next move. He had no reason to doubt that she would respond in a mutually satisfactory way when he did so.
With Christmas approaching, this seemed to be the ideal time to act. A visit to Ann Summers produced a suitably lascivious gift of sexy lingerie, which he intended to suggest that Emma wore when she came to his flat the night after Christmas.
To seal the deal, he wrote her a long letter full of details of the naughty games that he hoped they would play when she succumbed to his wicked plan. He had quite a vivid imagination when it came to such matters, and his letter could leave Emma in no doubt as to what she could expect.
Early on Christmas morning, Alfie slipped round to Emma’s house with the present in his arms. He left it on the doorstep rather than knocking on her door, which he thought would add to the element of surprise. He simply labelled the gift “To Emma, the Most Gorgeous Woman in the World”. The X-rated letter, tucked inside the parcel, had ended with “call me on this number when you’ve read this.” He just had to go home, sit back and wait.
Alfie’s Christmas looked like being a lonely one this year, after his wife had left him in February. He therefore fervently hoped that Emma would call him sooner rather than later. It would be great if they could spend as much time together as possible today. Perhaps she would arrive soon after she had had her Christmas dinner and would then stay over? He therefore had an agonizing wait for his phone to ring.
But nothing happened. His phone stayed silent all day, apart from one annoying call from what sounded like a much older woman than Emma who said that she needed to make a delivery to him and wanted to check his address. It amazed him that some of these companies kept going even on Christmas Day.
But the call he really wanted just didn’t happen. Maybe he was wrong? Perhaps Emma didn’t feel about him the way he felt about her? Were the sexy undies over the top? Could his raunchy letter have turned her off rather than on? There was only one way to find out. He had to phone her.
Her tone of voice when she answered was far from encouraging. “I’ve blown it”, he thought. “I went too far this time”.
But that was not the problem at all, as it soon became clear.
“Not even a card”, Emma said. “I thought you might remember me on Christmas Day of all days.”
He was flabbergasted. So she can’t have opened his present. Could it possibly still be sitting on her doorstep? But there was clearly more to Emma’s negative thoughts that just his apparent neglect of her.
“I’m really worried about Granny”, she said.
“Granny?”
“Yes. She stays with us for a few days at Christmas every year, but this time she’s been behaving very oddly. She’s 85 and I’m afraid that she’s starting to go a bit doolally.”
“How come?” Alfie asked.
“Well, she went downstairs this morning to let the cat in, and she’s not been the same person since. She rushed straight back to her room, and when she came down for breakfast there was a very strange glint in her eye.”
“How do you mean, strange?”
“It’s hard to say. I thought I knew Granny pretty well. We’ve always been close – I was called Emma after her, by the way – and that expression on her face … Do you know, it was almost like I think I must look after I’ve been alone with you sometimes.”
“How is she now?”
“I don’t know. You see, she’s disappeared. I don’t know where she is. I heard her using the phone earlier on – I couldn’t catch what she was saying – then about half an hour ago she said she had to go to her room to change all her clothes, and now she’s gone out. What am I going to do?”
“I’m, sorry, Emma,” said Alfie. “I’m going to have to call you back. There’s somebody at the door.”
© John Welford
No comments:
Post a Comment