Driver

For K, with appreciation.

Driver 7

Outside the Café, I kissed her deeply and put her in a taxi, with an invitation to meet here again for the night. It was a little after noon, and she was free to return to her life. I did not know if she would come back tonight, I had not instructed her to come, just invited her.

Tuesday afternoon was a magic time for me, with a full night without work ahead of me and a head full of ideas to work through. In some ways I was hoping she would not return, so I could think more calmly. I was feeling a bit jaded with the bizarre life I was leading, she was bringing up feelings that I had buried.

When she was with me I was distracted by her. The temptation to take what she offered and indulge myself was usually strongly upon me. What I had learned was of great interest, but I needed to sift through it to find the gaps, what she had not told me.

There was no way of knowing if bringing her to the House would create an issue with the management. Sometimes it was better to ask forgiveness afterward rather than permission beforehand. Wednesday's words about Colette had other applications, too.

I climbed the stone steps, noticing the tool marks that roughened the granite. Were they from slave workers during the war? This would have been a tough job, forced to work in the heat and dust from dawn til dusk on near starvation rations. Allowed a few hours exhausted sleep on a stone floor before it began again.

Was there much real difference between the Japanese guards then and my position now? Was I forcing anyone against their will? Was a whip much different if it was applied to a willing back?

Thinking of the slave workers made me run my mind through the storage room. I might have to get to that soon, as the opportunity to ferret through the dusty relics was tempting. History was my interest, whetted by a youth spent reading war stories, so the chance to see the original evidence from whichever decade, either wartime or later was powerful.

The day was hot and I was glad to plunge into the cool pool water. Ten lengths later I pulled myself out and dried in the sun on the terracotta tiles. They were nearly too hot to lie on comfortably, but I stood it, then rolled over to dry my front in the direct sun.

I gathered some flowers from the borders as I went back to the garage and climbed to my door. Once they were in vases their rich smells mixed and spread through the tiny flat. I tidied away the books and papers that scattered my table and spare chairs. The kitchen took me about twenty minutes to square away, then I changed the bedding and took my washing down to the machine at the back of the garage. It was good to have a reason to make the place look good. I was pleased to be busy, keeping the body moving allowed the mind to work in peace.

I hung the washing to dry in the slight breeze and spent an hour on the weights. Fred came in as I was finishing and reached for the 20kg discs. I stayed to speak with him, to get some perspective on the movie prospect and the woman he shared a house with. He was not very forthcoming to my questions, so I suggested we go for a beer by the Shelter later.

My curiosity took me down to the lower floor where I looked into the storage room. The electric lights were a very old style, yet worked well to cast a yellow glow. Clearly it would take a much longer time than I had now, to deal with it properly. I began to move the remaining boxes- cardboard gave way to older wood- some very heavy. I put them near the door for transfer to the garage tomorrow. These boxes were older, with mostly English and old vertical-form Chinese writing on them.

As I neared the far wall of the store, I found a small stack of five boxes with the rising sun flag stamped on each. They were of various sizes, from shoebox to washing machine-sized. The wood was stained with age and some were very heavy. Beyond was the raw stone of the wall. I managed to move the smaller ones to the middle of the room, but to go further needed serious muscle- maybe all the men of the House together (mostly Fred).

My shoulders were sore, I was sneezing from dust and about to go and see if Fred was ready for beer yet, when I looked behind the biggest box. There was an opening in the wall, cut roughly into the stone.

I had to follow this. I went to the garage to find a crowbar and used it to lever the big box away from the opening. This was old stuff-unmoved for a long time. There were mummified rats in the space behind the box. Eventually I was able to force the box clear of the wall- hard work on that coarse floor.

A tunnel led from the opening, blocked by a grating about a metre inside. It was too low to stand in, for me at least. Perhaps a Japanese man might stand upright? Whatever, there was no light that way. This room had no natural light, and anyway it was getting dark outside.

I fetched my head torch from my flat and came quickly down the stairs. Fred was drifting around the garden in the brief twilight, coated in sweat. "Hey Jim, let me shower and we'll go for that beer?"

"That may not happen tonight, Fred- I am on a mission." My excitement was in my voice-"why don't you grab a torch and join me? I have found a tunnel in the store room. This could be an adventure, man."

He was keen, and went to the cottage, saying "I'll be down there in fifteen minutes- don't go in without me!" He sounded like a boy with a mysterious cave to explore- I knew the feeling...

The barred grill looked rusty and weak, but was in fact very solid, when I tried it with the crowbar. My torch could see only a few metres of tunnel past it. The hinges were set deeply into the granite wall, while the latch side was mortared into that wall. The latch was well-made, with a heavy padlock. I was trying to lever against the lock when Fred's torch shone on the site and I felt his hand on my shoulder.

"Let's use some strategy, before we resort to brute force, eh?" He reached forward and inspected the padlock, a brass one with verdigris. "I can't help but feel there will be a key somewhere for this." His soft American accent was as reasonable as ever- he could sense that I wanted to put my muscle to the crowbar and break in.

He began to look intensely around the store room, which I had been working in all day. After ten minutes he grunted and reached above one of the elderly ceiling light fittings and fished out a key. I gave him a slow clap and put the crowbar aside.

The key was corroded, but fit in the lock. Neither of us could turn it, though. I went to get spray oil and a pair of pliers from the garage. The key came out again, with a fight. The oil went into the lock and onto the key. When I put it back inside I put the pliers to it and twisted gently. Not gently enough, though, as it broke off.

Shrugging, we put the crowbar to the padlock, and Fred put both hands to it. A small grunt and it broke. The oil helped to ease the motion of the latch, which gave us access to the tunnel. Crouching, we moved in, me ahead and Fred with his big cop's hand torch behind. I was feeling a bit claustrophobic as I shuffled down the tube. There was rough granite only-no finishing. Fifteen or so metres into the tunnel a metal drain cover clanked underfoot.

After twenty-five metres or so the tunnel curved to the right. I tried to visualise our location as we went. Away from the pool, towards the steps to the Bay, perhaps. Past the bend the tunnel went straight out of sight past my light's reach. We shuffled awkwardly forward until we could see the barred grate in our way. Just before the grate was a wider part of the tunnel, where a stack of well-used tools was rusting where they had been left.

Beyond the grate was a mass of vegetation filling the tunnel. Obviously we should come back in the daylight for further exploration. We used the wide part to turn back, in silence mostly- this was a place full of memories, not to be disturbed.

When we were back in the store room, I said, "the prisoners were kept here and went out to work through the tunnel, I would guess. Those steps took a long time to carve- there was a lot of misery in their creation."

Fred clapped his hand on my shoulder. "You have too big a heart for this life, Jim.

"Let's go up to the cottage, Colette will have dinner ready for us soon, and there is beer in the icebox. You and I and Jackie will come back tomorrow. The film crew will be here first thing Thursday."

We closed the grating and store room door, reluctantly retreating from our adventure. The adventure of a meal in the mystery cottage made by its mistress seemed second-best, now.

It was about 7.30pm, and fully dark.

I went back to my flat to change my shirt and fetch a bottle of pinot noir to share. My phone had a message from her, asking if she could meet me by the Bay at 9.30pm. I replied to say I would be there. The flat smelt appealingly of flowers.

__________________ (:)__________________

When I reached the cottage I knocked on the glass front door. Fred met me with a cold beer in his huge paw. Following him into the modest house I found Colette in her hausfrau dress putting some lovely dishes on the table. Even in the plain cotton she was a joy to watch. She moved with unconscious eroticism, her bare arms were practical but attractive.

The beer was quickly down our throats, to cut the dust from the tunnel. The food was delicious and not too heavy, though as rich as good French food should be. Fred spoke more than I expected, while Colette said little- enough to avoid rudeness, but no more. She seemed to be watching Fred for her lead- their relationship posed more questions for me.

Sharing wine was pleasant in their company. Fred was a very funny man when he had a drink inside him, Colette laughed freely, as I did. He had been some kind of counsellor in the past and had some great observations of humanity. His words were devoid of malice or negativity, just bringing the people to our minds in a gentle mocking image.

I was having a great time, but it was past nine, so I began to take my leave. I offered to help with the dishes, but was gently turned down. The two were a little surprised that I was leaving early, but claimed a need to check on the skiff before bed.

As I went to the door, they came beside me and Fred's rumble stopped me. "We need to get those boxes to the garage tomorrow, before we do anything else. So no exploring until the store room is ready for the film crew.

"Colette, you need to say goodnight properly, don't you, dear?" He gestured to her, so she stepped forward and kissed me softly on the lips, for just a moment longer than was polite and just friendly.

__________________ (:)__________________

My lips remembered Colette's as I descended the stone steps again to road level. My head torch was handy as there was little other light available until I reached the lower fifty metres or so. Ten minutes later I was outside the Café, watching a cab pull up.

She got out, wearing light gauzy harem pants in black, with a red blouse, also very light. She was fully covered, but still sexy and desirable. I kissed her, and pulled her to me in a tight embrace. She responded hungrily, her body moved sexily against me. I didn't ask how she had spent her afternoon, nor did she offer any information.

We walked happily hand in hand to the steps. As we mounted them, I began to tell her what I had found under the House, and the meaning of the marks on the stone. As we left the lit area, I stopped her to put a light cloth over her eyes. She accepted without hesitation. Our talk became quieter, she pressed to my arm for security on the steep steps. As we reached the gate at the top I looked hard into the foliage to either side, wondering where the gate was.

Crossing the lawn I looked across to the cottage, where there were lights still on upstairs. I wondered what the conversation was like there tonight. Removing her scarf she was looking with curiosity around her.

Leading her up the stairs to my flat, I lit some candles, for their gentle light, and took her to my bedroom. I stripped her gently and she did me. We used the bathroom then settled into bed together, nestled to each other. She stroked me until I was hard, then mounted me astride, guiding my cock to her cunt. I gestured to that part with a question in my eyes.

"I want you inside me, Captain. She does not hurt any more, and I hope she will please you well enough. Please use her for your pleasure." She was surprisingly tight, considering what had gone in there only the day before. She worked with her thighs, up and down, until we were approaching a climax. She flopped forward onto my torso and ground herself against my groin with a rising tempo. We came together, with fresh sweat covering us and cooling already.

She snuffed the candles then wiped us down with a soft cloth. Later we drifted into a contented sleep, our bodies a little apart.

Sometime very early in the morning I moved a little to feel her warm body at my back. Wednesday was breathing easily, asleep. I rolled over and slipped my hard cock between her thighs. She was open and moist for me and began to respond with motion in her pelvis. I drove more deeply into her, gripping her small breasts hard. The sight of the marks on her back and bum, visible in the rising dawn, made me feel powerful.