Their meal wrapped up, their after-dessert coffees went cold as they talked and worked around what they may have wanted to do next without actually saying it directly. It was their second date. Jane Penrose and Clayton Dangerfield looked into each other's eyes in a moment of silence. Would one ask if the other would come back to their place. After all it was not late. And it was the weekend. Clayton worried that if he asked, Jane would likely say no. He could sense her pulling back from her earlier enthusiasm. He was up for it, but then he didn't want to seem too eager.
Finally Clayton spoke up. "That was a pretty good night," he blurted, and Jane hastily agreed. Which meant that whatever lurking feelings or desires they had were gone. They negotiated and settled up the bill, pecked each other on the cheek at the restaurant door and that was the end of their second date. Clayton felt that he liked Jane for her personality and her looks. She turned him on, she was the type of woman he was after. But the signals that he got from her did not give him any clear answers on how to proceed. If only life was simpler and more straightforward.
As they stepped outside and split to go the different ways to their cars, she laughed trying to make it all seem like a win. "I wonder when we'll be allowed to see each other again." She let that float in the air.
They had discussed the virus during the meal. Living in Western Australia meant that the oncoming storm would reach them late, if at all. They had agreed how lucky they were to be so isolated from the rest of the world. They could be prepared. Perth was a place that the virus could be stopped from entering. There were only so many ways in. One airport, one passenger terminal at the port. And one railway station. And 2500 kilometres of road between Perth and Adelaide.
"Could you imagine living in London at the moment," Clayton mused and they both could imagine because they both had lived on cramped, busy streets that didn't happen in their wide Perth suburbs. They had crowded onto the Tube and had eaten in restaurants where you knocked your chair against the chairs at the tables behind you because absolutely everything was so close. It made you appreciate Perth that much more. As Jane disappeared, Clayton hoped that he would see her again soon.
Monday in the office seemed like the last day of school to Clayton. No one was doing much work. Management trailed from one serious meeting to the next and everyone else was either checking their favourite news site for virus updates or discussing whether they had secured enough toilet paper on Sunday before it all ran out. Eventually in the mid-afternoon, the meetings broke up. Clayton's manager, Rose Ballard, called his group together to advise that from Tuesday they would be working from home and checked with them to make sure that they all had connectivity and enough work to keep busy.
"Sorry this is all so sudden," she apologised, "but at least we are prepared."
And they were. They had done a trial at-home day a few weeks before.
Clayton texted Jane to tell her the news. Lucky you, she texted back. He couldn't think of a reply to that, so he left it. He would get back to her later. At home, he checked his office setup in the spare room. His fridge was full, and he had twenty rolls of toilet paper in the cupboard. It wouldn't be too bad, he thought. He watched the news, saw the premier of the state announce that everything unnecessary was closing and that people would need a good reason to leave their homes. It was happening, it was real.
Clayton worked from home on the Tuesday, day one. To his surprise the technology worked. By the afternoon he was feeling quite chuffed with himself for getting so much done. So much so that at 4.30pm he was surprised to get a message from Rose, his boss, telling him to finish up soon and not to work too late. He logged out with an afternoon and evening to spare. What was he going to do? He texted Jane, asked her what she was up to.
Some of us are still working, she texted back, in our offices. He would text her later, make sure everything was all right. He cooked himself a dinner, fell asleep reading a book and woke up to find it was after nine o'clock. Too late to text her a witty reply.
Clayton turned on the TV but the news was all Covid, so he got on the PC and checked out a few late night sites to see what was popular there. After the usual selection of leg-spread pneumatic blondes got him started, he stumbled on a woman strung up in a dungeon who resembled Jane enough for him to fill in the blanks with his imagination. Clayton unzipped his pants as the woman who was called Elite swung naked on ropes attached from her wrists to the roof while being lightly whipped by a woman in bondage gear and fucked by some electrical device that was inserted in her. A few moments of that was enough to get him off. Clayton was slightly upset that he came so quickly but he kept watching to the end as Elite was fucked by a man in a hood who suddenly appeared. The man came over her pretty quickly, so Clayton felt okay about his own release. Now for the rest of the night. He made himself comfortable then fell asleep reading a book.
After a week or so watching Elite either in the dungeon or on a beach or pretending to be a bad secretary and getting appropriately punished and fucked, Clayton decided to contact Jane again. What are you up to, he texted her in the late afternoon. Oh, just zooming with a few friends, her reply.
What is zooming, he wondered and why would she do it without him. He googled it, and the knowledge didn't help his mood. He tried to read a book which put him to sleep. When he woke, Clayton logged in to Zoom on his laptop and after a text exchange he found Jane.
"What were you doing?" he asked her.
She laughed in her free and easy way. "I was showing off with some friends."
"What were you showing off?" he asked with a smile.
"These," she giggled, holding up her covered breasts at him. Was she drunk?
"Can I see them?" he laughed.
"Sure," she agreed and flipped her t-shirt over her head and quickly unclipped her bra. "Do you like what you see?" she checked.
"Of course. They look fantastic," he enthused.
"What do I get to see in return?" she teased.
Clayton flipped his own t-shirt over his head to show off his chest. He was quite proud of it, a hint of muscle definition and enough of a tan. But Jane didn't seem impressed.
