Jolly Hockey-sticks (Sheila)
Sheila was from Morpeth, and an avid hockey player. She was at university reading Pharmacy and was in a shared room on the top floor of the halls I was in. She shared a room with Jo, also reading pharmacy, who was a martial arts fanatic (not that that is relevant to this story).
Sheila was a really happy and ebullient character. She was quite comfortable hanging out with the hockey team, or the rugby team, and was able to sink a pint as fast as any bloke.
She stood about 5'8", with curly black shoulder length hair, gorgeous brown eyes, full lips, and the most infectious laugh of anyone I've ever met.
Playing hockey on a weekly basis had left her toned and fit, with not an inch of fat on her 34-24-34 figure.
While she could be the life of the party, she suffered from a bit of home-sickness. Being all the way down south in Bath meant that she very rarely got to see her family, and, in the days before mobile phones, she found the absence really hard.
Still, she had a lot of friends, and was a caring and loyal individual.
She also had a "wicked" streak, as I was to find out.
In our halls of residence, we had been engaged in a long running water fight with the neighbouring block, meaning that the carpet of the corridor on the men's floor (the ground one) was pretty much perpetually soaked. It didn't help that the girls from the floors above loved to join in, and never seemed to really care if they soaked us or "the enemy".
This one night, the battle had raged back and forth until about 1am before Campus Security came around and told us to stop, and to clear up, under threat of action from the Dean of Students on the Monday.
So, a few of us tried to soak up / mop up the water, and make a start on cleaning down, while the rest just decided that the issue could wait until the following morning.
I continued until about 2am until I too decided to wait until the following morning, and headed back to my room, which I shared with my roommate, Rich, a DBA student.
This night he was away, so I had the room to myself, I fell back onto the bed, knackered. I couldn't even be bothered to undress. I just wanted to go to sleep.
I was just starting to drift off when there was a tapping at my door, followed by a stage-whispered "Adam?"
"Fuck," I thought, "Rich is back, and has forgotten his key. Now I'll be listening to Terence Trent D'arby until stupid'o'clock!"
Once again, the tap came, and the voice, "Adam, can I come in?"
That wasn't Rich - it was a female voice.
I dragged myself off the bed, and opened the door.
It was Sheila, in a dressing gown, wearing slippers (which were now soaking from the wet carpet).
"Can I come in, please? Jo's got Omar round, and I think they want privacy."
This was an arrangement that we all indulged - if you wanted some alone time, and you had a shared room, you'd ask your roommate if they could let you have the room for the night. They'd then see if any of their friends could put them up on the floor overnight.
"Erm, 'course you can," I said, "but, you can have my bed, the floor's a bit damp. Rich isn't here, so I can sleep on top of his bed."
"Thanks," she said, "I'll do the same for you next time."
She came in, and stood next to my bed.
"Do you want an extra pillow?" I asked.
"Yes, please," she said, and I got one from the top of the wardrobe that divided the room. When I turned back, she had removed her dressing gown, and was standing there in her pyjamas. A satin twin-set, with a blouse type top, and cami-style knickers. Not the most flattering, but nicer than some of the girly-girl stuff I'd seen others wear.
"Are you sure you don't mind?" she asked.
"Of course not. Just try not to mind that my mattress is a bit hard. I have a board under it for my back."
She sat down on the bed, and looked shocked as her spine compressed a bit - I don't think she'd believed me about the hardness of the bed.
"Got anything to drink?" she asked.
I had some crates of French beer stacked at the end of my bed - everyone knew this, but I also had a couple of bottles of brandy in my wardrobe, plus two bottles of wine.
"If you really want, sure," I said, "but you'll have to use my tooth mug to drink from. I'm not going to the kitchen. The floor's too wet."
"Actually, you're alright," she said, "I had a few earlier, so I probably should go to sleep."
"OK," I said. "Do you want me to tuck you in?" I jokingly added.
"If you would be so kind, sir," Sheila joked back, and I pulled back the covers on my bed for her.
She immediately climbed in, and pulled the covers up to her chin.
"Sleep well," I said, and turned to go over to Rich's bed.
"Erm, a goodnight kiss, please," she said, grinning at me from the pillow.
"OK," I said. I returned to her side, bent over, and went to place a kiss on her forehead. At the last second, she moved, and I kissed her full on the lips. I felt the tip of her tongue explore my lips before I pulled away.
What just happened?
"Mmm, best good-night kiss ever," she said, and rolled over away from me.
"Right, erm, good night," I said, grabbed a spare blanket, and went across the room to the other bed. I stripped to my boxers and climbed on top of it (I wasn't going to get into his bed - that was a no-no), and pulled the blanket over me. I reached over, and flicked the light off.
"Night, Sheila," I said. No answer. She's already gone to sleep. Not surprising, it was late (well, early, really), and she'd had a "few" drinks earlier.
I pulled the blanket up to my chin, and drifted off to sleep.
I can't have been asleep for longer than about half an hour, when I woke up. I was really cold. I don't normally feel the cold, being from Yorkshire, but that night it was chilly. The blanket wasn't thick enough, that was it.
I knew I had a spare towel on top of the chair next to my bed - I could use that as a comforter.
I carefully climbed out of the bed, and tiptoed over to my side of the room. I grabbed the towel, and turned to go back to Rich's side of the room. As I did, I knocked my knee against the chair, and let out a gasp.
