At the Lae

CHAPTER 1

Cleaning Services Corporation reported record revenues to stockholders for the past financial years at the annual meeting. The chairman heaped praise on the operations manager Ben Shaw for the way in which the 3710 commercial cleaning contracts had been managed under his direction.

After the meeting the company president sent Ben on his way for a two-week rest.

"You're looking rather jaded Ben; some time off will remedy that."

The job had cost Ben his marriage and his two children had disappeared with Ruth. He now only lived for his job and was hoping to find a new wife before he reached his 40th birthday, due in two months. But although he'd found women to take to bed, none had shown any real interest in him and severed the relationship when he failed to turn up for dates because of a crisis at work. He'd always called, but that courtesy failed to impress.

"I have nowhere to go Frank, I don't really have outside interests."

"Apart from fucking."

The two guys grinned and Frank asked Ben to his office.

Frank wrote down some names and directions and taking keys from his top drawer said, "Here are the keys to Jan and my log cabin and boatshed and the names of the people who run the supplies store, the boat engine mechanic who will come to you within twenty-four hours of engine trouble. That name is of the writer who is living in the loft above the boatshed."

"It's a woman."

"People with the name of Gael inevitably are female. Don't get your hopes up; she's only twenty-three."

Ben nosed his Chevrolet Colorado into the unsealed driveway and his heart leaped when into full view came the wind-shuffled blue lake with tree-covered hills behind it, providing the perfect tonic for a man low in spirit. The gaunt raven-headed driver with a juvenile balding patch beginning to take shape gave a couple of friendly toots, but no one appeared.

Ben parked off to the side and unloaded. He then leaned against the front of the vehicle looking at the lake when a two-person kayak appeared and the sole occupant waved. He waved back and then went inside to make coffee and put away his supplies.

There was a knock at the door.

"Come in for coffee Gael."

"Who gave you my name?"

"Please sit for coffee. Frank Owens said a Gael Pointer was living in the loft. I'm his operations manager. My name is Ben Shaw."

"Big job?"

"So they say."

"I like Frank."

"So do I."

Gael eyed him and said, "His wife is a stuck-up bitch."

"Ouch. So what do you think of me?"

The blue eyes swept over him and she brushed aside her blonde fringe. "Interesting."

"Frank said you wouldn't molest me."

"Ha, you're old enough to be my father. I'm not that hard up. My sports car is away being serviced. I get out when I need company. I come from a small settlement some thirty miles from here so have friends -- male and female." There was accent on the word male.

"I bet they are all married?"

Gael said how true. "Shall we do things together?"

"I thought you suggested I was too old?"

She giggled and said she was suggesting having breakfast and dinner, taking turns at preparing it and cleaning up, walking some of the tracks and kayaking.

"I thought you were writing?"

"Got myself into a hole and can't get out. It's writer's block."

"Give me your draft to read. I might be able to suggest things."

Gael snorted and said he could find better things to do with his time.

"Don't be stupid. I have my laptop. Transfer the file on to a flash memory stick for me."

"Can you read on screen -- there are 111 first-draft pages to read?"

"Yeah. Glad you are no longer stupid. Actually you look rather intelligent."

"Thank you. Now you have opened the house may I use the bath? There's only a shower in the loft."

"Sure, the storage water supply system should be heated in about four hours. Tell me when you wish to bath and I'll go off on a walk."

Gale looked at him carefully. "Are you dangerous Ben, out here alone with just me?"

Ben tossed Gale his vehicle keys. "There's a .32 locked in the glove box of my vehicle. You can keep it with you until I leave."

"That makes you a nice man, or stupid," Gael said, tossing the keys back to Ben who languidly caught them high over his head.

"You appear in good shape."

"Gym, tennis and swimming -- regularly."

She thanked him for coffee and going out the door said, "Remind me to check out your muscles some time."

He ignored that. "Who's on dinner?"

"You are the new arrival. Come over at 7:00. I can mix vodka martinis but if you want wine bring it. I'm out at present."

"I think we should fuck Gael. It might unblock you and unleash a writing streak."

"Fanciful theory Ben," she said without emotion and walked off.

He groaned thinking what a chump. His mother hadn't told him never to address a woman like that because she knew he had brains. You asshole. Ben sighed knowing he'd wanted to let Gael know he was interested and had seized the moment. Had she taken it well or had he screwed up?

"Do you take it well Gael?" he murmured sensually and wondered why Gael was placing him in this 'You Jane, me Tarzan' thought process. He was supposed to be spiritually exhausted and over-worked. Obviously Frank was worried about him and wished to prevent a health problem appearing.

"Oh coronary, keep thou away from me, your molester of knaves."

Ben put the empty mugs into the sink and checked the water heater under its insulation mat. It was warming. He returned to the kitchen-living room when Gael returned walking up close. He automatically went to reach out and kiss her; she looked that good with her wind jacket now discarded. She'd come that close to hand him a flash memory stick.

"Here it is. It includes a synopsis and list of characters with thumbnail profiles. You might only need to read the last two chapters."

"Thanks. If I'm late for dinner you'll know I'm working on this for you."

Gael smiled and left. Ben checked his watch. It was 3:25.

Years of reading reports from line managers had converted Ben into a speed reader. He plowed through the pages reading for sense and to recognized traits of characters and how they fitted in, not to look for literals and misused pronouns. He spent the final forty-five minutes working on individual job instruction sheets to managers as if back at work.

It was early autumn, the leaves not yet turning, so after the shower he dressed in just jeans, shirt and sandals. He arrived right on 7:00 and dragged away his eyes after their greeting. Gael was dressed to kill: hair up, make-up on, cute little breasts pushing out her silk shirtfront and how she got on jeans that tight without assistance he had no idea but did notice the ass appeared to cling to slim hips. Well that's how she managed.

"Given up?"

"Finished."

"Ah a speed reader?"

"Something like that," he said, handing her a bottle of red wine, the memory stick and a bunch of job sheets -- he always carried spares in the truck.

"Thanks, you look good tidied up."

"You look... you look gorgeous." He decided after a brief hesitation to keep on with the direct approach.

"Is the glove box locked?" she giggled and taking hold of the ten sheets of paper asked, "What's this?"

"Work sheets. I've drafted ideas for the next ten chapters for you to explore. They are to get your mind on track again, not to include as actual chapter notes. You read them, as many pages as you wish, and then you walk or paddle off or soak in the bath and think, think and think, allowing your mind to drift at will until you begin to see your characters in situations. It doesn't matter what they do. Just be pleased you can see them. I reckon a stream of thoughts you are in control with will begin running and somewhere along the way your fingers will twitch to be back at the keyboard and you'll take them there."

"That last bit was beautifully expressed Ben. I guess you are not a writer of fiction?"

"No."

"But I think and see things about me that I think about. My degree is in business management and we were taught how to think abstractly for problem solving as well as to write clearly and precisely by thinking rationally and channeling thoughts."

"Well thank you, I can't say it will help but I appreciate your effort. That is no way for you to relax at the lake."

"I want you to say thanks, this will help significantly AND believe that Gael. For fuck sake, you are dealing with your mind that is out of sorts. It's your mind, not a wayward kid. You have to work on it with everything you've got, remaining aware that it's bigger than you."

Gael look quite startled. "Okay Ben, keep calm. I promise to follow your suggestions."

"Promise?"

"Yes Ben, I truly promise. Now let me fix the drinks."

"I'll fix them. Now get your mind off your writing. List me the top things you like but don't think writing."

As Ben busied himself at the simple bench amid stark surroundings he thought she should work here but live with him at the house.

"Birds singing, sunset, my family and closest friends, waking up fresh in the morning, forest walking, running, books, music, going to the movies -- I adore watching ballet -- singing if no one is around, horse riding and being here. I love the lake. I love the forests and all the birds. This is where I'm meant to be. I know it."

"Here's your drink. Good health."

"And good health to you Ben. I feel freed up a bit I don't know why."

"I reckon you're given a kick-start to your spirit."

"I may have too. Very good Ben. You know, your could be good for me... I mean in the abstract sense."

"A sensible fatherly figure?"

She giggled and asked him to talk about himself.

"Born a country boy. Won a scholarship to college. Always been a nature lover and like everything you said you liked but noticed a glaring omission in your list. I graduated well from college and entered small business as in assistant manager roles and progressed on to bigger businesses and then into corporate and Frank headhunted me. I went overboard on the director of sales and marketing and we married and had two kids but the job grabbed me by the throat and I lost my wife and kids. I'm divorced now but Frank acts as if he were still my father-in-law."

"Oh god, Ruth. I've met her -- Frank and my dad are buddies from way back. Ruth lives in Tahiti now doesn't she, married to a tourism operator?"

"I didn't know that. She just packed up when I was away at a business convention and disappeared, taking the kids with her. She applied to have our married annulled and I cooperated fully."

"Tell me only if you wish. Is there are new love in you life?"

"No, they leave telling me I'm too much wedded to the corporation."

"Well that happens, and not only to men. We do have something in common Ben. We're both social rejects."

"How is it that you, being so young, see yourself in that category?"

Gael held out her glass for a refill. "You said my list had a notable omission. I guess you meant sex?"

"Yes."

"When I was twenty I was driving, drunk, and only be the grace of god missed killing a woman and crashed my dad's car. His brother is top lawyer and got me off the drunk driving charge with a suspended sentence and I was permitted to continue at college and finished my English Lit degree, I've only began drinking liquor since living here. I was becoming so wild that dad took me aside and said that I was only toying at trying to become a successful published writer. So he arranged for me to live here for a year and gave me $15,000 to live on."

She checked that he hadn't gone to sleep. "I bought my veteran English car and here I am. Most of my episodes of sex have been failures. I began here well but in the last couple of weeks have noticed my desire to write fading and then was hit unexpectedly by the blockage. You might think from what I've just told you that writer's block was inevitable, adding brooding to my list of faults. But I finished writing one evening and went to commence next morning and then nothing. It was as if I'd been switched off."

Ben grinned. Gael said it wasn't funny and he replied it was a matter of finding the switch and switching it back on. She grinned.

As they finished their second cocktail she said, "Thinking about it, what you have already suggested could turn my switch back on."

"Do you really believe that?"

"Yes I do." Gael went to the oven and pulled out the casserole. Rice was already on hold in the rice cooker.

During the meal, heaping Gael with compliments, she not drinking any more liquor, Ben said, "What about living over at the house while I'm here as my guest, but you working over here alone?"

"Why are you asking?"

"I could get lucky."

She giggled and said dream on.

He said, "Just by having company could lift your spirit."

She looked at him steadily and then said she believed he honestly meant that. Ben forked up a piece of carrot, waiting for her decision.

"When?"

"Tonight, before you get cold feet. You need a bit of a stir Gael and you know it. You have the choice of sleeping in the spare room or with me. If you sleep with me there will be no sex until you are screaming for it."

"Never in my life have I screamed for sex."

"Then you won't be having sex, will you?

"Oh."

"What kind of reply is that Gael?"

"I really can't answer that. I do not like this one little bit. It seems all wrong."

Ben said, "You think it's all about me?"

"Since you mentioned that, yes."

"Fine, let's talk about something else."

They ate in silence. When offered apple slice Ben said no, he though he should go.

"Obviously I've placed you on an uneven keel."

"Suit yourself."

"Thank you for the hospitality Gael. Apart from that one blip it was lovely. You cook delightfully. Good night."

"Good night."

Gael remained seated so Ben opened the door to the outside stairway and closed it softly, smiling. Gael was now so stirred up something could happen.

It was three hours later before Ben looked up and saw the lights in the loft had been turned off. He went to bed.

* * *

Initially Gael welcomed the intrusion into her neck of the woods. All the other homes, none of them particularly close, were presently unoccupied. Owners would return in a few weeks when the ski fields less than five miles away opened for the new season. Now the guy was regarded as an intruder, having upset her.

Gael's body was hinting interest in sex. It had been almost a month. Yes she should have been listening to her body instead of being mean-spirited. For all she knew he could be great at sex and that would be a change. Her choices of late had brought disappointment.

She paced around the loft ready to kick furniture. She thought of him, over there, probably with his dick in his hand thinking of her. "Oh god," she groaned, in her mind seeing a rope of semen fly into the air above a figure in darkness. She groaned again and knew she had to do something. She picked up his scribbled pages, no, the handwriting was quite neat, very neat for a male.

Gael sat down glancing at page one and thinking what was this shit? She focused, surprised that he'd known Maggie was harboring this secret desired for Cliff. The notation read: 'Cliff's mom called. Cliff had gone to the cabin, leaving his ammunition behind. What should she do? Maggie's mom said Maggie would take it. Nine hours later Maggie, sweat running from everywhere including armpits, watches. Cliff shoots stream of cum over her chest'.

Oh dear, thought Gael. That is what is supposed to happen, eventually. It's just Ben has got there too fast.

Michael is aboard ketch, keen to impress Jess's parents. Surgeon faces terrible risk. What if sheets (ropes) damaged his hands? Has sensitive surgery Monday. Jess's mom calls out catch. Michael catches yachtsman's gloves.

Hmmm, Gael thought. Doubt, conflict, resolution. Nicely packaged. You have a writer's mind old man.

Gael read on, digesting everything slowly. The ideas ranged from the good to the absurd. But it was all rather right on the button, designed to activate her.

She read each page and then turned back to page one and read slowly, making no attempt to be critical. Ben was communicating to her and she had to interpret.

Reaching page ten Gael was yawning and rubbed her eyes. "You're not just a guy with a dick, concentrating on putting it about, are you Ben? She wished he were beside her to answer.

Gale turned over page ten and read the note.

'Dear Gael, I said I wouldn't comment but I must. Your sex scenes are appalling. Not in my wildest dreams can I imagine a panting woman (your words) saying to her illicit lover, 'Please place it into me dearest." If she were the minister's wife perhaps by even that seems incredulous. But this is a horsewoman, used to seeing stallions with long hanging dicks and probably watching them in use. She is more likely to squeal, "Ram it into me darling " or perhaps "Ram it into me you sexy bastard". At least you had her saying something instead of leaving the poor guy hanging. Are you aware not all men are confident of getting in until the intrusion begins and the woman emits her first groan?'

No, Gael wasn't aware of that.

'Twice you have guys who've just fucked a woman almost senseless, staying by her side and cooing to her and stroking her hair unless she falls into blissful sleep. Robust guys like me, I would think, would push her away gently and go off for a pee and then go to find something to eat. Centuries of fucking have designed the male that way. He has no idea how soon the next opportunity to fuck will arise, so he needs to eat to regain energy and be sure he can get it back up and perform at least adequately.'

'Love, Ben.'

Oh heavens. He knew things she didn't know. What else did he know?"

Gael went to bed thinking about Ben but fell asleep before she really had her fingers working.

The morning dawned gray, not a sign of hope. Gael had a pee, brushed her teeth and wandered about glancing nervously at her laptop. Finally she sat down shakily in front of her laptop. Perhaps Ben would have to fuck her near senseless before what had to be done was done. She opened the file, pushed a stray breast back under her nightdress, looked at the unfinished sentence, and drew in a huge breath.

* * *

Near 9:00, breakfast under his belt, Ben was thinking what to do when he saw Gael running towards him, a loose tit flying. He patted his dick expectedly.

"I'm working... it's working... I've written two chapters and it's just coming." She slammed into him and they kissed, Ben knowing not to grab the loose tit, at least not until her intentions were clear.

"Bye, I'm back to work. I'm sleeping with you tonight and I want you to ram the fucker up me."

Ben thought his dick was trying to break out through his zip to look at the great ass flying away from them. He returned inside to ensure she didn't see him when she turned to climb up the stairway. Women have this extraordinary expectation that they only have to mention an interest in sex and their man will stand like a goon, tongue hanging out and a hand on his dick. Well he wasn't like that. Ben went inside and tongue hanging out patted his dick in private.

Frank called and said, "How's it going buddy?"

"Okay, this place is better than I remember."

"Fucked her yet?"

Ben didn't reply.

"Oh, trouble at mill? Sorry about that. I wanted you to relax."

"She's amid writer's block."

"Oh shit. Sorry to have landed you with that."

"No, you weren't to know Frank. I know what's involved. I'm taking her through the first steps. After initial bad reaction she's coming around. She now knows she has to re-pro-gram her mind."

Frank asked did Ben think he knew enough about that to help without being destructive and Ben replied yes.