The Photograph 6

. Another slow start but feedback pls.

Saskia likes the Saloon Bar. Its deep carpet and low soft furniture give it a hushed feel. Patrons speak in funereal tones here. Listless, she picks at the absurd burger that is her staff meal. Employees are not allowed to eat here but she feels she will cry if she eats one more meal in the kitchen or in her pokey room. She's prepared to risk the manager's wrath to steal these few precious minutes of peace away from the vacuous bickering of the hotel staff. Late afternoon sun beats into the area, sharply illuminating everything yet it is a soothing place to be on this blustery evening. A few guests and regulars are enjoying the ocean views and a quiet drink.

Saskia closes her eyes recalling her plunges from the Kawarau Bridge, her jubilant yells echoing around the canyon as the bungy snaps taught. The extra death defying leaps are the cause of her present agonising poverty. She opens her eyes and prods the hideous burger again, then pushes it away contemptuously. "I must get out of here!" she says to the dust motes in the shafts of light.

She daydreams again but now she visualises "The Walker" in his white sneakers, marching off south along the beach front. She has observed him every day this week and she imagines him striding along soon. She wonders about the colour of his eyes and the timbre of his voice. She contemplates how it might feel to be wrapped around his wiry brown body, how they might move together.

She dismisses this image but as she reaches for the evil burger "The Walker" materialises. Gone are the shorts and the distinctive sneakers, those are replaced by polished boots and neatly ironed jeans.

"Damn, he has a wife," Saskia mutters to herself.

He has a newspaper under his arm and a half of Guinness. After a moment's hesitation he selects a table nearby and carefully spreads his paper before taking a delicate sip of his inky black stout. Saskia drinks him in. Tension builds in her body as she watches him read, observes the precise movements of his perfectly manicured fingers as he turns each page. He immaculate, neat as a pin!

"No Ring," She muses. At last he reaches for his drink and looks up, directly at her. She smiles broadly then her cheeky tongue pops right out. His eyes drop straight down to his paper. She feels herself blush in humiliation.

"Verdammt, der gut ging!" "Damn that went well!" Saskia mutters. She takes a deep breath, "Okay be direct." She plonks herself into the chair opposite him. He looks up startled.

"Hello," She smiles. "I'm Saskia."

"Um, hello," he stammers. "I'm Jason,"

"You're not walking today?" Mentally she castigates herself for the dumb question.

"Err, No, on Fridays I treat myself to a couple of beers and The Review. How do you know I walk?" His eyes are clear blue and his voice a gentle baritone. Her molten interior stirs.

"I've seen you go by, while I'm working,"

"Oh, I haven't seen you here. Are you German?" he finishes his drink.

"Swiss, I'm backpacking. Completely broke too, so I have to work for a few weeks."

He smiles and stands up, "Let me buy you a drink then?"

Saskia nods, "Okay but not here, we aren't allowed to drink here. Buy a bottle of wine then maybe we could go to your place."

Jason resumes his seat. "That didn't come out well, sounds like a scam."

Saskia blushes, "Sorry. I really am desperate to escape; I promise your wallet is safe and I'll buy you a drink when I get paid, please! I'm going nuts here. I need to get out, to have a sane conversation!"

"What about your safety, aren't you concerned?"

Saskia exposes the front page of The Financial Review, "Not really, I feel like I almost know you, besides you're a stockbroker or a banker, something in finance Jason. You're not a serial killer! My guess is you're a banker." Saskia raises her eyebrows, "am I close?"

"Yes. It's that obvious?"

"Yes and if the manager sees me here, I'm dead!"

He looks at the abandoned meal, "Do you want to finish that?"

Saskia stands smoothing her dress over her abdomen, "Nope, if I eat that I'll feel like a snake that swallowed a pig!"

Jason stands too. She is abruptly exposed to him, unmasked as clouds obscure the sun. Suddenly she is a pure Greek nymph with a delightful dusting of freckles across her cheeks. He feels an almost irresistible urge to stroke the inviting slope of her petite nose and to run his fingers into the explosion of curly hair that's cut perfectly into her jaw line. The spell evaporates as the sun bursts through, flooding the room with light.

Jason selects wine then the wind gusts blow them laughing and chatting the few hundred meters to his hilltop flat.

He pours wine while she flicks through his CD collection. She holds one up "I'm going to play this, I love it!"

"Sure, just not too loud," he points at the ceiling, "The neighbours".

Saskia inserts the disk then sinks into his couch. The caress of the cool leather excites her and she throws back her head, abandoning herself to the sensations and the music.

Jason prepares salad but he cannot take his gaze from her. Her bare feet are propped on his coffee table exposing a colourful tattoo. She looks utterly free sprawled in his couch, silently mouthing the lyrics of the song. Excited, he joins her in the sensuous leather embrace of his couch.

"Great sound!" she whispers.

"Thanks, I would die without my music," Jason relaxes into the sound too. They are quiet for a few moments until he asks, "Is there a story behind your tattoo?"

"Yes," She grins. "I had a girlfriend once who had them all over her body. I really teased her about them until she pinned me down saying the only way to understand a tattoo properly was to have one! Eventually I did and these hibiscus flowers are the result. I love them!"

"Cool, they're really stunning!" He sips his wine, "Why on your foot?"

"I want it to be seen of course! It hurt like hell but my girlfriend was right about never wanting to stop at one." Saskia runs her index finger along his arm. Goose bumps erupt across his skin. She reaches for his face pulling his mouth to hers in the softest kiss.

The kitchen timer beeps, Jason scrambles to his feet, "Um, the food is ready. I've made enough for two."

"Great but I need to use the bathroom first."

"It's through the bedroom, it's an ensuite," Jason points.

Saskia returns as he is placing the plates on the table. She puts a framed photograph down too.

"What's her name?"

Jason blushes, "Clair Moffatt, what are you doing with that?"

"I saw it as I walked through your room, on your bedside table. I'm going." Saskia picks up her bag and shoes, "Thanks for the wine, come and see me at the pub. I'll buy you the drink I promised."

"Hold on Saskia, she's an ex, long gone!"

"How come she's still beside the bed?"

"I just haven't put her away, I've been too lazy I guess. Please stay!" Jason holds a chair for her. She looks dubious but takes a seat. They eat in silence for a few minutes.

"This food is really good," Saskia sips her wine. "When did she go?"

"About a year ago."

"That's a dreadfully long time to be lazy Jason," she drinks more wine.

He tops up her glass. "Yes I suppose so."

"Do you two still talk?"

"Not really, just a few e-mails."

"Why'd she leave?"

"She went to Berkley to study astrophysics." Jason says turning the photo face down.

Saskia sits it back up. "Why didn't you go?"

"I was going but I chickened out. I still had professional qualifications I needed to complete plus I really love it here. Clair was heartbroken." He frowns, "This is really none of your business Saskia, what's with all the questions anyway!"

"As I walked through your room I saw the photograph. I won't be the cause of couple trouble!" Saskia drinks more wine. "Why is the photograph beside the bed? Do you imagine her when you masturbate?"

Jason flushes furiously, he gathers up the plates and deposits them clattering in the sink. "No, I fucking don't Saskia! Like I said, she is long gone! Why are you so irritated by the photo?"

"Before that beeper went off I thought we were making a connection, that's right isn't it, we were getting close?" Saskia has her elbows on the table and her chin resting on her knuckles. Her gaze is fixed on him.

"Yes," he whispers.

"Okay, so right after that, I walk into your room and see this lovely decor and big comfy bed. I think to myself, 'This is going to be great!' until I see Goldilocks there looking at me. Then I think, 'Oh shit, what a creep!' Jason I'm happy to satisfying my lust with casual sex but I won't make another woman an unwitting fool doing it!"

"Sorry, I see what you mean. I promise she is long gone."

"You haven't had another woman in there though, have you?" She raises her eyebrows inquisitorially.

He frowns, "Why do you say that?"

"No woman I know is going to get naked with Clair looking on."

"I suppose not," he looks glumly at the photograph.

"Do you miss her?" She leans close to his face.

He gazes into her mesmerising dark eyes "No."

"Good, Clair Moffatt has left the building!" She pushes the photograph which falls onto its face, "My friends call me Sas."