My name's Jim; I'm 34, 6 foot, average build and looks, single, footloose and fancy-free. I'm a doctor – specialising in orthopaedics in a private clinic in London. I drive a black Mercedes SL55 AMG sports car, and own my own flat in a block in an upscale area of South West London.
In short, I'm doing OK.
If you had asked me on Friday when I came home from work I would have described my home and neighbours as follows:
Although they are of widely differing ages, the other occupants of the block I live in all have one thing in common – they're all well-off financially.
Some are nice and friendly, and always smile or stop to pass the time of day whenever our paths cross; one or two even invite me to the occasional dinner parties or social gatherings.
Some, on the other hand are not.
Unfortunately, I live next door to one of those not-so-nice people - a spinster, Miss Jameson, and I have to emphasize the MISS. If anyone ever addresses her as anything other than by her correct title, does she give them a telling off! I'm not sure, but I don't think anyone many people even knew her first name.
Miss Jameson always wears her silver-grey hair up in a tight bun, a fierce looking set of pins and combs holding it all in place – and woe betide any errant hairs that decide to stray.
I have also never seen her dressed in anything other than a frilly white, loose-fitting blouse, which is always buttoned up to the collar, and a mid-shin length black, pleated skirt. This ensemble is complemented by what look like thick black tights and a sensible pair of sturdy shoes.
From this you may get the impression she is one of those thin-faced, anaemic looking women who are all skin and bone topped off by a sour looking, unattractive and severe face. Far from it; she seems to be well put together in a mature, middle-aged kind of way – big chest, well-padded hips and arse, and sturdy legs – although it's difficult to be sure because she always wears the loose-fitting clothes described above and, frankly, I've never been that interested. I would put her age at around mid 50s.
She is also reasonably attractive and, rumour has it, has even been seen to laugh although, for reasons known only to her, she does seem to always give me stern, disapproving looks whenever our paths cross.
As I said earlier that's how I would have described my home environment before last weekend.
Not any more...............
Having returned home from the clinic at around 6pm, I had the usual shower and was just finishing getting dressed while mentally planning my weekend, when the phone rang.
Little did I know that picking it up would change all my preconceived ideas about life in the suburbs.
"Hello?" I said into the mouthpiece.
"Dr. Roberts?"
"Yes."
"Hermione Jameson here. I wonder if I could trouble you for a moment of your time?" She asked hesitantly, in a tremulous and painful sounding way.
Hermione?
"What seems to be the trouble, Miss Jameson?" I responded.
"Well... I seem to have slipped and damaged myself, and am having some discomfort when I move. I wonder if I could prevail upon you to pop round for a moment or two."
Thinking I'd only be a few minutes giving her a quick check up I said that I'd be right there.
Slipping my feet into some casual shoes I checked to make sure I was presentable (zipped up chinos), grabbed my flat keys and my medical bag, and made the 3 second trip to next door.
As I was about to ring the bell the door was opened by another of my neighbours, Mrs. Williams a widow, who is a retired school teacher.
"Good of you to come so quickly Doctor; this way, " she gushed, leading straight to the master bedroom, where Miss Jameson lay on the bed, still fully clothed in her usual attire, minus her shoes.
"Hello, Miss Jameson, what seems to be the problem?" I said.
Grimacing, she replied that she had slipped on the bare tiles in the kitchen, and now had a serious pain in her side and down her right leg.
"OK, I said. "I'm going to have to examine you thoroughly. You could easily have damaged your back, thighs or legs. This will probably take a while. Do you want Mrs. Williams to stay while I check, as it's usual to have a female nurse present when I examine ladies?"
"Oh, I am sure everything will be alright," she replied. "Thank you for your help Betty, I'll talk to you tomorrow."
As Mrs. Williams made her departure, I asked Miss Jameson if she could stand. She did so, but visibly seemed to be in pain, so I told her to lay back on the bed.
Moving to her bedside I said that I was going to have to loosen her clothing to check for damage. As I pulled her blouse out from her skirt I noticed she had on a silken camisole. This too was pulled from the waistband of her skirt.
For the next couple of minutes or so I thoroughly checked her back for signs of major problems and, apart from a slight swelling in her right side where a small bruise was developing, the only remarkable thing I noticed was that she had amazingly soft and smooth skin – a highly surprising fact for a woman of her age.
Running my hands gently over her thighs and buttocks on the outside of her clothes I identified another couple of areas where she winced in pain.
"I'm sorry Miss Jameson," I said. "I'm going to have to examine your thighs more closely."
Nodding her acquiescence, I proceeded to push her skirt up, exposing her thighs as I began to check for any damage in this area.
Imagine my surprise when, instead of thick tights which I believed she always wore, my hands slipped smoothly up sheer silky stockings to the bare skin at the top.
Hiding my surprise at this revelation, I slowly examined the outside and back of each thigh and was relieved to find that although painful, it appeared she had only suffered bruising.
"Well, Miss Jameson, it appears you've been very fortunate," I said. "I don't think you've suffered any major damage – some bruising to your back and lower spine plus further bruising to the upper front and side of your right leg. I know it hurts, but I have some ointment in my bag which will bring out the bruising, and should help take away the pain."
Opening a tube I extracted from my bag, I applied some cream to her bruised side.
"To have maximum and prompt effect this needs to be massaged in gently for a while," I said. "Would you like me to do this, or would you prefer to do it yourself?"
"Oh no Doctor," she murmured softly, (and uncharacteristically). "Please carry on."
