To say it was raining would be an understatement. It had gone suddenly dark outside and the glass was actually vibrating with each cloudburst...
I pity anyone out in that, I thought. Rain was coming down in biblical proportions. I wonder if it will drive some customers in? I had learnt that people quite often develop a sudden love of books when it rains at this end of town; Sue's shop offered a cheap way of staying dry.
Suddenly, the door bust open and a sodden figure lurched backwards into the shop.'YOU CRAZY BLACK BASTARD' it shouted at the closing door.
'YOU COULD SEE ME ON THE PAVEMENT YOU FUCKING IMBECILE' She stood there, shaking and actually hopping on the carpet, water going everywhere. This woman had obviously been drenched by spray from a passing car, but I was initially more worried about the books with all her splashing.
'Can I help you?' I asked in my most polite, firm voice, and she spun on the spot, as if just realising I was there.
'I am fucking wet and I need to be fucking dry and at a fucking parents evening in about 10 minutes, so if you can sort that I'll be fucking grate... ful.' Her voice and anger trailed off rapidly as she re-entered reality and calmed down. She must also have worked out who I was, just as I had already worked out who she was. Miss Smythe, my former French teacher (with a reputation as a pious churchgoing soul, or so I had thought until 20 seconds ago) and she stood as a drowned rat before me.
'erm ... Jack, Jack Wood?' she asked, and I nodded pleasantly.
'I run this shop now for my Aunt Sue, and ... you look, you look absolutely soaked!' I said. The reason for my rather garbled speech was not her wetness but her, well, near nakedness.
She was awkwardly peeling off her light jacket which was completely sodden and misshapen. Beneath it was her trademark white jumper. This, it was immediately apparent, was not good with water and was 100% translucent. It clung like a second skin to her perfectly outlined breasts, which stood proud and firm with nipples as tight as a nut and showing clear as day. It was mesmerizing. There was even the gentle outline of some sort of low cut lace bra on the underside, showing though as a slight pink shade. Her bottom half was a little more decent, but she was clearly wet through to the skin.
With a sudden burst of authority I said, 'don't move, I'll be down in 2 minutes with some dry clothes from my Aunt.'
Before she could answer, I slipped upstairs and went to the wardrobe. 'Wow' I thought, 'I will have to grab a still picture of that jumper from the CCTV later!' I picked out a dress from the wardrobe, and truth to tell, deliberately chose one that may be a little low cut, just to see if she would wear it. I also grabbed a bra and a pretty sexy pair of pants, just in case a fantasy moment came to pass.
I went down with a small towel in my hand and re-entered with a buisnesslike voice. 'I hope these fit OK, having looked at the size of you, and will get you to the ball on time...' I handed her the towel and a roll of clothes (with the underwear hidden inside) and walked past her to the door and turned over the sign.
'I'll close the shop for five minutes and you'll get some privacy to change.'
I looked her straight in the eyes with a confident smile. I could tell that she was a little uncertain as to what to do, and was instinctively unwilling to get changed here, but she was also clearly feeling very much at a disadvantage. She was moving back from the window and had, I suspect looked at her reflection, and perhaps reolised how close to naked she already was. Maybe she was also a little unsettled following her racist outburst when she entered. She gathered herself together as a drip ran down her forehead and off the end of her nose. This seemed to help her make her mind up.
'OK ..., thank you Jack, that's very um ...kind.' and then she said in her teachers voice, 'so turn around!... I can't have you looking the wrong way. This isn't a public show!'
'You can go round the back of the shelves for more privacy,' I suggested, 'as it's not visible from the front window.'
She rapidly strode off to the side of the shop. I couldn't believe that she just asked me to turn around and didn't ask me to leave the room, or even enquire if she could use the flat. It was a sign of just how off balance she must be feeling. I turned and stared studiously at the wall, but stayed close enough, not wanting to miss the chance to talk to her whilst she was getting undressed. The whole idea was thrilling.
She was pretty much known as the ice queen as a teacher, always immaculate, always seeing herself a cut above everyone else. Now here she was, potentially getting naked in the same room as me.
