Day Three Thursday
The next morning we tidied up our sleeping bags and dressed. We trooped down to the farmhouse and took it in turns to use the shower, first me and then Mel & Joe.
"How much money will this all cost?" I asked as we dried off in one of the farmhouse's bedrooms, as I wanted to pay my fair share.
"Oh that's alright. Remember the farmer he's a friend of the friends of ours who we're seeing later." Joe replied with a 'nudge, nudge, wink, wink' tone. I immediately got it. The payment was sex. As they'd said: 'for a great price'. I wondered if I would be required to render sexual favours.
"Don't worry; Joe and I are going to have a foursome with the farmer and his wife after breakfast." Mel added as if reading my thoughts.
"Will you have enough energy for later with your friends?" I asked.
"Hell yes, it's not until this evening that we're meeting up for food and fun." Mel replied. We joined the farmer and his rather portly wife for breakfast. Mel & Joe and I exchanged contact details before I left them for their day of fun and headed off on my way. So far I was ahead of the curve. I've been going two days and nights and had gotten some action on both. But I doubted my luck would hold. I pressed on towards my next stop, Eynsham, some distance away. As I walked I wondered whether Joe & Mel had already started 'paying' for their 'bed & board' with the farmer and his wife.
Eynsham was not on the banks of the river per se and I walked along a quaint toll bridge and a country road with a pavement only on one side. My destination was a small B&B, actually a private house with a room to let as part of the Air B-n-B scheme in the town. As I started walking along the road from the Thames, the heavens opened up, and down came a deluge of rain that would have seen Noah scurrying off to hastily build an ark. Though I'd seen the dark clouds building for some time, my proximity to the end of my day's journey had seen me not put on my 'Pack-a-Mac'. Long story short, I was soaked right through by the time I reached the front door of the unassuming house of Bath stone, containing my bed for the night. I walked, or rather trudged up to the door and pressed the door bell. I turned my back half to the door, sheltering under the modest awning above and began bouncing in my feet. A minute passed and the door remained closed. I turned around and tried again. Another minute still nothing. The rain continued heavily. Perhaps the owner was on the loo or something. I gave it five full minutes before trying again with the same, negative result.
I pulled out my smart phone, brought up the phone number of the house owner and dialled.
"Thank you for calling, you've reached the voice mail of Lydia Summers, I'm sorry I'm unable to speak to you, but if you'd care to leave a message. I'll call you back." Though flat and rather monotone, the voice still possessed rather enchanting cadences. Despite my fury and frustration at being put through to voice mail I couldn't help wondering if she looked as alluring as she sounded.
"Hello, Ms. Summers? My name is Amy. I booked a room with you through Air B-n-B, well I arrived at your place about, ten minutes ago and I've tried ringing the doorbell but there's no reply. It's raining heavily right now and I'd really like to get in out of the weather. Please could you phone me back on this number? Bye." I hoped I'd put enough urgency and desperation in my voice to illicit a swift response and although not religious, I did utter a prayer to the Almighty for deliverance.
Two minutes later the strains of 'Ride of the Valkyries' -- my ring tone - began emanating from my phone.
"Hello?" I replied, hoping this was my landlady for the night.
"Hi, its Lydia, I'm sorry about all this, I'm just out for a jog, I must have got the time wrong. I was going to cut my run short anyway due to the rain. Be with you in about five minutes. I'm really very sorry." This time her voice wasn't monotone; it was breathless, which given that she was apparently running in the pouring rain, was to be expected. Glancing at my watch, I suddenly realised that it was only 5.25; I wasn't due to arrive until 6.00. I'd made better time than I expected, given the length of this stretch of the walk and I'd also 'put the spurt on' when I saw the gathering storm clouds.
"That's okay, I'll be waiting." I replied sheepishly, realising I was actually the one to blame. True to her word, approximately five minutes later I saw a figure rounding the corner of the close and run towards me. It couldn't have been more perfect if she'd been running in slow motion to the theme from 'Chariots of Fire'.
She ran up the short garden path and stopped beside me, jogging on the spot as she checked her pulse before halting. She leaned over and resting her hands on her knees began taking in great lungfuls of air. Her long, blonde hair held in a pony tail flicking back with the suddenness by which she brought her head back, a feat even more impressive given that her hair must have been sodden from the rain like mine. She was in her early to mid-thirties, about 5"9, athletically built, with medium sized breasts, straining to be released from the clutches of the sports-bra she wore beneath her neon-pink running top. Soaking with a mixture of sweat and rain water, the top clung to Lydia's upper torso and I spied her nipples.
"You're Amy?" Lydia asked upon regaining her breath. I nodded. She took my hand and shook it warmly.
"Pleased to meet you, I'm Lydia Summers, call me Lydia. Apologies for keeping you out here, especially in weather like this. Now, no arguments, you'll stay here tonight half-price and instead of putting up with my so, so cooking, I'll treat you to a meal at one of the many eateries our fair town has to offer." She said all this in a breezy, business-like tone that left me hoping that she was single and not straight.
I followed her inside her house and gratefully closed the door. She helped me off with my backpack after first putting down some newspaper pages on a spot in her hallway. For my part I slipped out of my hiking boots and the thick walking socks I'd been wearing under them and began kneading my feet.
"You look drenched." Lydia remarked, as she returned from the kitchen clutching two glasses of water. I accepted my glass and emptied the contents in just a couple of gulps, whereas my hostess took a few sips of hers.
"Um, listen. I believe I owe you the apology. You didn't keep me waiting; more like I was about forty minutes early."
"That doesn't matter. I should have still have been here. Its just I'd been too busy to go jogging earlier today and when I finished work early, I saw my chance and took it. I had hoped to beat the weather though."
As Lydia spoke, she ran her hand up and down her pony tail and removed the band that held it in place. She let her hair down which took my breath away and examined her hand with the band, tutting as she did.
"Well, lets get you to your room. It's all ready and waiting for you." I followed Lydia as she stomped up the stairs, me with the backpack and she with newspaper pages. It afforded me a very fine view of her rump through the jogging shorts she wore, very nice indeed. At the top of the landing there were three doors. At the front end were the small bedroom and the rear, the bathroom. To the side, parallel with the stairwell were the doors to the two main bedrooms. I moved to the small one at the front.
"No, No. It's this one." Lydia steered me to the front bedroom. The door opened onto a pleasant, square shaped-room with cream-coloured walls and a double-bed with a wooden headboard that screamed IKEA.