This is a true story. However, for obvious reasons, peopleâs and place names have been changed. Any similarities are, therefore, a coincidence, and were not intended. It is drawn from my own experience.
It was about eight oâclock when she rang and hung up. She did that when she wanted to talk, but didnât have credit on her phone. I rang her back.
âHi, Dave? Sorry, Iâve no credit. Can you call over?â
âSure, Niamh, no problem, Iâm on my way.â
I grabbed my coat, it had been raining hard all day, and the wind was starting to pick up. It was mid-term, and most people had gone home to see their families, and, more importantly, âborrowâ food and money. I knew what this was about. Iâd been friends with Niamh since the first day of college just over a year ago. We met going into our first lecture, through a mutual friend. Since then, weâve grown really close, and I count her as my best friend. Niamh hates being alone on a night like this. She was staying in her house, her house-mates having gone home for the week. I had decided to stay up as well; a few of my friends had decided the same, so it would be a good laugh. She never feels safe, so manyâs the time when Iâve been rung at one in the morning to walk her home from a pub. I walked out of the row of houses, and into her estate, the two being connected. Inside two minutes, I was at her house. She answered the door with usual energy.
âHi Dave!â she yelled as she hugged me. âThanks for calling over! So, how are you?â
âIâm grand, Niamh. Not a bother.â
âIs the weather really bad?â
âNo such thing as bad weather, just the wrong clothes.â She looked at me sarcastically. âBut it is getting very wet and windy, if you canât tell.â My coat was drenched. She took it, hanging it next to a heater. âAnd I think the drainage streams are rising. My house could be flooded.â Maynooth was notorious for flooding at this time of year. Every year for the last five, and still, the council refused to do anything about it.
âAgain? Jesus, Dave, thatâs, what, four, five years running now?â This was the kind of shit-chat that passed between us. We would talk for hours, about home, college, friends, and of course, love-lives. Hers was always the far busier, she could have men queuing up at her door, yet she always seemed to pick the biggest wanker of them all. One, who only lasted two weeks, is fair game for a dig at any opportunity. Rumours abounded of his questionable sexuality.
We were talking about one of her house-mates, who was as easy as the Daily Star crossword, when, at about half past ten, the lights and radio suddenly died. The power was gone, a black-out. We managed to dig out a candle. It wasnât very big, and probably would last no more than an hour. I knew that my estate was on a different circuit, so I rang Pete. He said the power was gone there, but theyâd enough candles and beer (hey, we are students after all!!) to get them through the night. I knew Barry was gone home for the week, so there would be a spare bed in my room. I offered it to Niamh, knowing she would like, but wouldnât need, someone around.
âCould I? If you donât mind, like. Would it be okay with the others?â
âHey, youâre my best friend, Iâm not going to leave you alone tonight, knowing the way you areâ I assured her. âAnd anyways, thatâs my beer theyâre drinking! Come on, get your coat.â She grabbed a hat, coat and scarf. Then she went to put up the umbrella. I opened the door. The rain was so heavy; we couldnât see the end of the driveway. The wind must have been gusting at close to 90mph. We just stared out the door. I turned to her and said âRight, come on. Weâre not getting there by looking at it.â I turned to go, but just as I did a flash of lightning split the sky in front of us. The thunder sounded instantly. We were right in the middle of the storm. Even I was having second thoughts about continuing.
âYou know what, Dave? Weâre staying here.â I heard her say.
âThat might not be a bad idea. Are you sure itâs okay with you?â
âWell, Iâm not letting you go home in that! Christ, what if a tree fell on you? I wouldnât be able to live with myself.â She grabbed me by the arm and slammed the door shut. We lit the candle, and talked. As the candle burned, the storm raged outside. It moved very little. I felt the room grow colder. Not just the room, the whole house.
âNiamh, what kind of heating have you got?â
âWell, itâs the pump thatâs not working. No electricity to move the oil. Dave, I have something to ask you. Donât get the wrong idea here, I like you as a friend only, like, but with no heat, I was thinking that maybe, shared body heat would keep us warm tonight?â Her voice had grown uneasy; she was nervous, unsure as to what Iâd say. She started talking fast, like she does when she feels that way. âI mean, if you want to, but if you donât its ok. I wonât be offended or anything if you donât. Oh, shit, Iâve ruined our friendship now, havenât I?â
âNiamh, no, itâs okay. Weâll sleep together, if thatâs what you want.â I had actually needed no time to decide. I had been attracted to Niamh since the moment I met her. She was 5â8â, and was very thin. She had small breasts, but they were definitely there. I later realised she had a great ass. One that I could watch all day, if only I got the chance. But by far her best features were her legs. They seemed to go on forever. In truth, she was perfectly proportioned. I had often thought about asking her out, but I knew she didnât like me like that, weâd joked about it often enough.
âOkay, but weâre only sleeping together. No sex, understand?â I knew she meant this, but the thought of waking up next to her was something I couldnât resist. Even if that was all Iâd be doing with her.
âI wonât start anything if you wonâtâ I joked. We moved upstairs to her room. Quickly, she grabbed her pyjamas and headed for the bathroom to change. I sat on her bed and shed my jeans and rugby shirt. I crawled into her bed in just a t-shirt and boxers, inhaling her scent from the sheets. I knew better than to try anything, I did actually want to be able to look her in the eye the next time we met. She came back in and dumped her discarded clothes in the washing basket next to her dresser.