Susannah Morgan pulled up outside the bungalow where she lived with her parents. She took the car key from the ignition. Opening the car boot she took out a bag containing the new dress she had bought for her best friend's wedding. She closed the boot and put the car ignition key in her handbag and walked along the path leading to the front door of the detached bungalow and searched in her handbag for the house key.
Her handbag was, as ever, full of everything she collected. She rummaged around the bags contents, lipstick, make-up, tissues, extra-strong mints, her purse and an assortment of other things women tend to carry in their handbags for no particular purpose. No house key.
She had this experience so many times and the key always turned up somewhere, but she still panicked until it did. Her parents were away on holiday in Greece and they had the only other set of keys. There was only one thing for it, empty the entire contents of her bag and purse. She walked back to the car and put the bag containing the new dress back in the boot.
Sitting in the driver's seat she started emptying her handbag onto the passenger seat one item at a time. No key. Similarly her purse and all its contents, her banking cards, cash and one or two other small items like the odd safety pin. No key.
Susannah put everything back one item at a time, including a pair of nail-clippers she thought she had lost weeks ago. Now she was getting really worried. She was in the shit unless she found that bloody key. She had no pockets in her white blouse or black skirt. She started looking in all sorts of ridiculous places, the backseat of the car, the boot and glove compartment, the keyring on which she kept her car key. No, there was no bloody house key.
The street was deserted, the lack of cars told her that most neighbours were out and the only friend in the street she bothered with was also away on holiday. The only sign of life was Gary who lived in the bungalow opposite and who was busy cleaning his car.
Gary was about 26, single, lived on his own, and always had a stream of young women coming and going apart from the late-night parties that kept the whole neighbourhood awake.
Susannah's parents had complained to him a few times and on another occasion the police had come and warned him to keep the noise down. He was always pleasant, apologised profusely, but the next party would be just as bad. Actually, the only time she had ever spoken to him was when he shouted across the street and wished her a happy birthday on her recent 18th only a month earlier.
"That Gary has just taken a different woman into his bungalow again." She had said to her mother, only last week.
"You need to keep well away from that one Susannah, he is nothing but trouble." Her mother said. Susannah had taken her mother's advice on that one. Gary she felt had no shame partying all the time and switching and swapping from one woman to the next. She hadn't had a lot to do with men or even boys when she was at school. Her parents were church going, god fearing, and she had been brought up within the bosom of her parent's values. Susannah firmly intended to save herself for the man she married as her mother had done and was so proud of it.
Susannah sat in her car and tried to stop panicking. She took some deep breaths and tried to compose herself. Gary was bending over his car with his back to Susannah, vigorously polishing the shiny, red bonnet. His grey T-Shirt clung to his body, sweat running sexily down his back leaving the back of his shirt soaking wet. He was wearing a pair of tight-fitting jeans. His legs were spragged about two feet apart and his tight-arse shuffled from side-to-side as his hands stretched across, polishing the bonnet.
She dragged her attention away not wanting to admit to herself that the sight of him stirred feelings and thoughts, the kind of thoughts she should not be having and was not supposed to have.
Had she, by any chance, left a window open at the back of the bungalow? The thought gave her a grain of hope. She got out of the car, Gary had moved around to the other side of the bonnet. He could see Susannah walking towards her bungalow. He hadn't noticed her sat in her car. Now he was noticing her.
Gary had one thing on his mind, his bedpost. She would be a great notch to add, he thought. I could just bend her right over the bonnet of this fucking car, get that tight skirt up over her arse and drill her little, cunt from behind. I'd stretch her like she has never been stretched before.
Gary knew what he was talking about. He had eight-and-a-half inches slack and a girth like a cucumber.
He watched Susannah look through her front window then go around to the back. She was out of luck; she checked every window and door on the off-chance and started retuning to her car.
"Is everything alright Susan?" Gary shouted across to her.
"Susannah." She corrected him, "I seem to have lost my key, can't get in the house."
" Aren't your parents about?"
"They're on holiday"
"I can make you a cup of coffee or tea, whatever your poison."
"No thanks, I will drive into town again; I have to go to the bank anyway." She lied.
She again sat in the front seat of her car and turned the ignition key. The car refused to start. She tried again and again, no go.
"What have I done today, killed a fucking robin." She shouted in sheer exasperation.
Gary just smiled at her, flashing his perfectly, pearly-white set of teeth.
"Coffee or tea?" He said.
"Oh fuck, make it coffee please." She answered, getting out of her car locking it, taking a quick look up and down to make sure no one was watching her and then crossed the street to join Gary. Yes she was feeling vulnerable and considered changing her mind but what could she do, sit in her car? She was not in a good position making her way into the house of this man painted as an immoral scoundrel by her parents and in particular her mother. Marion was very much the old school with old school values and certainly did not want her daughter to fall in with a bad lot like Gary and his friends. Her father, Nicholas, was very much a pipe and slippers man. He didn't say much but tended to agree with his wife whenever he did.
