"Him?" she cried and crossed her arms as she scowled angrily. "It's impossible." The two office clerks looked out of their office canteen window at a young man, leaning against the bridge and watching the railway junction intently. "He's a train-spotter; he's scared of girls," she added, her abrasive tone of voice not hiding her obvious annoyance at the suggestion.
"That's the deal," her sister teased. "You get him to blow his load, and you can have the car for the weekend." Evie groaned loudly and pushed her long hair behind her ears, adjusting her white cotton top and taking a deep breath. "And a hand job doesn't count."
"Oh for fucks' sake," Evie snapped and gestured wildly at the window. "He is scared of anyone else, you know what he was like at school. How am I going to get near enough to him to make him come."
"I don't care," the tall sister replied, her streak of playful malevolence evident. "That's the deal. It's my turn with our car. I want to go to the beach maybe and ..."
"You can go next weekend. Or go to the cinema. I'll pay for your cinema ticket but I want to meet Emma in Blackpool. Please, I've not seen her for months and she is free this weekend."
"Yes. If you get Michael, to let you get him off." Evie scowled and muttered abuse under her breath. "And if you are going to be like that, I'll say you need to get him off twice. Or maybe, three times," she threatened.
Evie's uncharitable mood was not improved by their boss cutting short their mid-morning break, and Michael running away from the experienced coquette as she approached him during her lunch. Her sister watched from the office window and teased her mercilessly, but the jumper-clad, bespectacled young man returned to the bridge with his notebook as he watched the dozens of trains traversing the busy railway junction opposite the busy office block.
Evie groaned and impatiently counted down the minutes until five, and skipped out of the office seconds after the bell reverberated around the computers and desks. Her sister laughed heartily as she watched the young lady tore across the car park, calling out Michael's name.
He bolted the moment he saw her; he was used to being chased, but Evie was determined and sprinted over the bridge and onto the overgrown path that bordered the railway. She saw him, the faded colouring of his clothing blending in with the subtle hues of the foliage. "Michael! I want to fuck you," Evie yelled, hoping that the promise of uncomplicated sexual shenanigans would stop him; it didn't. Michael jumped over tree roots and rabbit holes as he ran down the abandoned footpath alongside the railway fence.
The chaser could barely keep up as she took great lungfuls of air; her sides burning and her feet aching: her shoes were not designed for physically chasing young men. She yelled out again, pleading with him to stop, but he didn't. He had been hurt too many times by bullies before to risk it, and she redoubled her efforts, anxiously taking bigger strides to reach him.
Evie's ankle hit something immovable and she screamed, her momentum taking her towards the ground as her feet hit a tree root. She squealed in pain as she twisted her ankle and her chest landed painfully on the ground. Evie swore into the afternoon air and sat on the cold, soft earth, rubbing her ankle and wincing in pain. She looked down the path, and saw no movement, before slowly rotating her foot. She hated her sister!
"Are you hurt?" A meek, low voice asked from her right, causing her to jump in fright. She looked at her intended prey, standing a few feet away from her and looking at the office clerk with a bemused, puzzled expression; a few stains adorned his tatty jumper and she looked him up and down: from his dark, polished shoes to his unkempt black, curly hair.
"I need to screw you," she sniffed, still panting. He shook his head and backed away from the demanding woman, and she called out his name. "Oi." He pulled his coat around his shoulders tightly and she sniffed, watching him edge further from her painful body. "Wait!" She took a few deep breaths and looked at his deep blue eyes. "Please don't leave me, I'm not sure if I can walk on this. It might be broken." He glanced up at the darkening sky overhead and then at the girl sat on the wet mud and took a few steps forward, gingerly offering his hand.
Evie winced – partly out of genuine pain, but mostly for effect – and hopped on her good leg. She saw him nervously looking around him as she wrapped her arm around his shoulder. He tensed up as they made two steps towards the town.
The soft patter of the raindrops on leaves punctuated their brief silence and she looked at him, staring onto the train line, and towards an old signal cabin, a few feet from the overgrown path. "I can get us in there," she promised. "I bet I can."
"You can't, it's locked," he muttered and she stopped on the path.
"Surely you want to have a look. And shelter from the rain." He shivered as a rain drop ran down the back of his neck and the young lady pulled her blouse closer to her skin; she had forgotten her coat as she sprinted away from the office and was regretting it; the hot summer's day had descended into a downpour. "It'll be gone soon."
He hesitated, but Evie pulled him towards the pale blue wooden building and yanked a few branches out of their path. "I'm not sure ..." He stammered as her white blouse turned translucent in the torrential rain. As they reached the door to the disused signal cabin, she took her two hairpins from the top of her head and slid them into the lock. Michael watched with awe as a few seconds later, the door sprang open and she hobbled inside.
She was surprised that the cabin was still dry, and warm, and she pulled Michael into the vast wooden structure, the only clue to it's former use being the myriad of holes in the floor. Michael's eyes sparkled as she closed the door firmly, allowing it to lock behind her.
"Now," she started, touching him on the top of his hand and smiling at him. "I have to screw ..."
