Danger! Naked Woman Ch. 01

"For sorting out the problem of the Porsche."

"That problem was easy. The real problem is Julia. What do I do with you?"

"What do you want to do?"

"What I'd want to do, I'm too much of a gentleman to suggest. I'd like to meet Julia when she is in her own clothes, not recovering from alcohol, and not feeling grateful."

"I think I'd like to meet Paul then. If you want to meet me."

"I do. But gathering up a naked woman from a roadside is not a good way to start a relationship of equals. We have to get you decent, and since you want it that way, look after you tomorrow and tomorrow night. How?"

"I haven't any idea. Have you, Paul?"

"Yes. But you might not like the suggestion."

"Why not?"

"I think I need help with you. The only person who might help and understand is..." I paused.

Julia looked at me. One of those looks.

"...my ex-wife."

Julia's eyes opened wide.

"You'd take a naked woman to your ex-wife?"

"Yes. It's the best solution I can think of."

"It doesn't sound a good idea to me, but even if you think it is, surely she wouldn't welcome us at..." Julia peered at the dashboard clock "...four o'clock in the morning."

"No. That might strain our remaining relationship too far. We'll have to wait until a reasonable time, perhaps nine, before I ring her. She can say 'No' but I think she is worth a try. I have helped her since we divorced. I even helped her move out away from her ex-lover and told him where to go when he tried to stop her. I nearly had to resort to violence but I am much larger and heavier than he is so he backed off. She might see this as clearing a debt."

"So what do we do until then?"

I looked at her.

"...and NOT that!" she added.

"Honestly, I wasn't suggesting..."

"You were thinking it, weren't you?" She accused.

"I can't help my thoughts. I can control my actions. I think we should find somewhere quiet and have a few hours sleep, and I mean sleep."

Julia found my hand and squeezed it.

"Thank you, Paul, for the thought and for the control. I feel safer in this dress than naked in your arms, but I'm also aware that I am alone with you and wholly dependent on you – until I get home."

"Yet you don't want to go home until tomorrow. Isn't that trusting a stranger too much?"

"I don't think of you as a stranger anymore. I think, no, I'm sure that I can trust you. I thought I could trust him but..."

"What happened to make you run away? You went to his cottage willingly. What changed?"

"I might as well tell you. I was prepared to have sex, and to enjoy it with him but several things began to niggle at me through the alcohol. I had drunk too much and I think he intended that I should. We had sherry while the meal was warming, wine with it – he kept topping my glass up even when I protested – and then more wine with the dessert and we were to have champagne afterwards. He then suggested that we play strip poker. By that time I was so drunk that I thought it was a good idea but..."

"But what...?"

"He made a real production of it. He set the rules. There was a large antique chest in the room. He said that every time we lost, the clothes we lost should go into the chest. He put my overnight bag in it before we started. He said that was to make sure I didn't cheat by using more clothes than I was wearing. I had no intention of cheating. I came to have sex with him, so shedding my clothes was what I expected to do. The chest's key was attached to the handle. We started playing while the champagne cooled in an ice bucket in the kitchen. I lost badly. I know I was drunk but I'm usually adequate at poker. I remember arguing that my pantyhose were equivalent to a pair of his socks and he couldn't count each sock separately. Within a few hands all my clothes were in that chest. The chest was shut..."

Julia closed her eyes and shuddered. This time I held her hand.

"I needed the bathroom in a hurry so I went there. He went to get the champagne. When I returned he was still in the kitchen. I felt slightly cold so I thought I would wrap my T-shirt around me at least until he came back. I tried to open the chest. The key didn't fit. There was a keyhole but it was full of old polish. I tried to open the chest. It wouldn't open. Why? And why the charade of putting the clothes into the chest anyway? I was getting suspicious. I picked up the pack of cards and flipped them. They were marked. This seemed too much effort just to get me naked. If he had taken me to the bedroom, kissed me and asked me to strip, I would have. Why the elaborate arrangements? All I could think was that he wanted me not just naked but deprived of all clothing. I didn't like the implications. My actions and thoughts had only taken a few seconds but seem much longer thinking back. I went towards the kitchen, thinking to ask him for something to settle my stomach. Because I was concerned about his actions I peered past the door first. He had poured the champagne into two glasses but he was adding a liquid from a small bottle to one of them. That really sobered me up. I rushed to the hall, grabbing his car keys as I fled. I hoped that there would be something I could wear in the hall. There wasn't. I remembered there hadn't even been a towel in the bathroom. I opened the front door, sliding back the bolts quietly, and pulled it to, but not shut. I got into the Porsche. There was nothing to wear in it. He appeared at the front door, shouting for me. I started the Porsche and drove off in a hurry. He ran a few yards after me but I was away. Then I drove until I saw the sheep and crashed."

"Have you any idea what he intended?" I asked.

"I'm not sure. Whatever it was, I'm certain I would have objected. He wouldn't have planned everything if it were something I would be happy to do. I don't think he wanted normal sex. He had taken me to a place that none of my friends knew, he had ensured I had nothing to identify me, not even my clothes, and he had made me drunk. What the liquid was I don't know but I wasn't going to try it."

Julia shuddered again. I pulled her head to my shoulder. She cried against it. She stroked my chest. I liked that.

"I can't say that he actually did anything. I can't prove anything against him. I'm happy that I got away safely. I think he had tried whatever he wanted to do before. He was too organised for it to be his first time."

Julia turned so her breasts were pressed against me. I hugged her and tried to distract myself from her hard nipples.

"Well," she said, "Where are we going for sleeping? Any ideas?"

"Yes. There is a quiet car park on the beach near New Romney. We should be there in five minutes."

I drove to New Romney, past the Romney, Hythe and Dymchurch Railway station and to the sea. We reclined the seats and spread the car rug over us. Julia settled on my shoulder, her blonde hair spread over my chest, as we dozed.

I woke with a stiff neck. I eased myself out from under Julia and left the car for a short walk to look at the sea. When I returned Julia had raised the car seats and was watching me. I got back into the car. It was eight thirty in the morning.

"Want some breakfast?" I asked.

"Yes, but I can't go anywhere like this," Julia said plucking at the splayed cloth of gold skirt.

"There's a convenience store in New Romney. They should have some sandwiches and coffee. That do?"

"Coffee? Yes please. Black and strong if possible. I'm too aware how much I drank last night. A washroom would be nice. But how?"

"No problem. We are parked next to the toilet block. A council workman opened it half an hour ago. The block is between us and the road so no one will see you."

Julia was out of the car and into the toilet block like a frightened rabbit bolting for its burrow. She held up her flowing skirt as she ran across the tarmac. Ten minutes later she emerged fresh-faced and smiling.

"Led me to the coffee," she ordered as she fastened her seat belt.

In New Romney I parked in a corner of the car park while I got the food and coffee and a few other things. Julia drank the coffee as if her life depended on it. I went back to the shop for a refill. As I left the shop I saw that a charity shop opposite was just opening. I handed the coffee to Julia and asked:

"What dress size are you?"

Julia spluttered.

"What dress size are you?" I repeated.

"14, sometimes 12. Depends on the store. Why?"

"There's a charity shop open. If I could get you something to wear..."

"Please. This dress is great but not suitable for a Saturday morning."

I found a plain denim skirt, a light blue cotton top, and a pair of sandals that seemed the right size. The bill was three pounds. Julia received them as if they were her best presents ever. I cut the price tags off with my penknife. Five minutes later Catherine of Aragon's dress was back in its plastic bag and Julia was conventionally dressed if still without bra and panties.

"Can we go to the shop and get some more?" she asked.

"As long as you don't mind a few odd looks. They'll recognise what I bought."

"Odd looks I can stand. They would be really staring if I was still naked."

"OK. Do you want to go alone, or with me?"

"With you. You are paying."

We went back to the charity shop. Julia bought another cotton skirt, a couple of bras, a handful of panties, a lightweight jacket, a pair of shoes, a small suitcase and a small plain handbag. I found a pair of Ladies jeans, size 14, on the reduced rail. Julia examined them carefully for holes and flaws before adding them to the heap. On the counter there was a basket of odd items of cosmetics at ten pence each. Julia sorted out a few items and a small plastic hand mirror. The assistant who served us was different. The lady who had served me before had retreated to the stock room so there were no 'odd looks' for us. This time the bill was seven pounds. Everything went into the suitcase.

Back at the car I carefully removed the labels. Julia wriggled seductively beside me as she fitted herself with bra and panties. I produced the brush and comb, ponytail holder, hairpins and pack of tights I had bought in the convenience store. She used the car's vanity mirror to apply the make-up. Finally she turned to me.

"What do you think?"

I couldn't answer at first. Her hair was shining in a loose ponytail. This morning's fresh scrubbed look had gone. The imperfections I had seen last night were history. Apart from slightly redder lips Julia didn't appear to be wearing make up yet there had been a transformation to a beautiful woman. How? I have no idea.

"Wow!" I said.

Julia kissed me.

"Wow is good." She said. "Now I can face the world. Perhaps I could even face your ex-wife. Does she have a name?"

"Emma. Shall I call her?"

"If you think it is a good idea. Up to you. I haven't got another suggestion."

"OK. Do you mind if I call from outside the car? I might have to explain."

"I'm sure you will have to. Go on. I'll be here."

I rang Emma. She wasn't too surprised to hear from me but as soon as I started to explain about Julia she cut me short.

"Paul! You, and she, are in deep shit. There's been a report on the local radio. A man was found dead in his cottage near Newchurch. A blonde was seen driving his car through the village about one o'clock. The police want her to come forward. Is she your Julia?"

"It certainly sounds like her. Oh hell! What do I do?"

"Go to the police..."

"Not without a solicitor. Your solicitor lives in Hythe, doesn't he?"

"Yes..."

"Have you got his home number?"

"Maybe."

I heard Emma flipping through pages.

"Yes. Got a pen?"

"No. Hang on."

I went back to the car, opened the door and took a pen from the glove box. Julia looked at me. I held my finger to my lips. She nodded. She didn't look like a murderess but how could I tell?

"OK, Emma. I have a pen."

She gave me the number.

"Thank you. I'll let you know what happens."

"OK. Please ring me. I might know something about it..."

That puzzled me. How could Emma, in Hastings, know something about last night in Romney Marsh? I dismissed it as irrelevant.

"...And Paul..."

"Yes."

"Look after yourself. We may not be married any more but you still mean a lot to me. I wouldn't want you hurt."

"Nor would I want you hurt either, Emma. See you."

I switched the phone off. When I got back to the car Julia looked at me.

"Not as simple as you thought?" she said.

"No. We're in trouble."

"We?"

"Yes. We. The police are looking for a blonde who drove through Newchurch last night in someone else's Porsche."

"Why?"

"I don't think it can be a coincidence. He... is dead."

"Dead! He was very much alive when I left him."

"I believe you. Will the police?"

"I don't know. I don't know what happened to him. Once I was away I couldn't have cared. Someone else found him perhaps? What do I do?"

"What do WE do is the question. Emma gave me the home number of her solicitor in Hythe. We could ring him, go to see him, and get advice. He will probably advise you to surrender to the police but if you have a solicitor, and me with you, you should be treated reasonably."

"Ring him! Now! Please! This is enough of a nightmare. I haven't done anything. How could I kill him barehanded and naked? Did Emma say how he died?"

"No. I don't think the radio report can have done either. If Emma thought I was with a murderess she would have been more worried. She was concerned but not worried, if you see what I mean."

"I do. She trusts your judgement. If you think I'm not a murderess, she'd accept that. That's nice and is the only nice thing about this situation. We need that solicitor. Please?"

To be continued...