Being nineteen and at college I found a job at the local DIY store. It didn't pay much but it was better than nothing. To supplement this meagre income, I found that if I talked to confused looking customers, they would ask if I knew anyone who could do work for them. This was never anything complicated, fit shelves, locks, bolts that kind of thing. I would volunteer and leave it to them to pay what they felt was right. This was always above what was expected and for me was a very good earner.
It didn't happen every time I worked but at least once every other week. On this day I spotted what I thought was a man looking at some shelving units and shaking his head. When I asked if I could help, I realised it was a woman. She looked to be in her early fifties, but her height was the most striking thing, she was over six feet tall and though she was covered in a coat it strained at her belly.
She looked nervous when I asked if I could help but then blurted out, she was a widow and couldn't do this sort of thing. The units themselves are simple to assemble, so I of course volunteered and after getting her name, Mavis and an address, I arranged to go round on Sunday afternoon. She seemed pleased with this, and I sensed there would be more work for me in the future.
With this in mind I turned up exactly on time. She opened the door quickly which startled me a little. Her size and the huge blue, bell tent, dress she wore, that covered her from neck to knees, made her look intimidating but with a big smile I asked her where she wanted the shelf unit and was shown to a bedroom.
It was easier to assemble the unit on the landing so taking as much time as I could I opened the packaging and put it all together. She was downstairs so I waited a while longer before telling her it was ready. When I did, she seemed very eager and pointed where it needed to be.
The bedroom, like the rest of the house, was spotlessly clean, tidy and warm. It was easy to lift the unit in place and then level it a little. I was about to say job done when suddenly two strong arms grabbed me. There was a brief struggle then I was pushed onto the bed with the arms still holding tight.
I wasn't frightened but shocked to the core and tried to process who it could be as I tried to break free. Then I felt her weight and perfumed smell and knew it was Mavis. She was mumbling something over and over. It was a while before I could understand.
"Show me man, show me man."
Then I felt her clamp on my leg and rub against me like a dog humping a cushion. This was too much, finding an inner strength I heaved and managed to shake her off and stood the opposite side of the bed badly out of breath.
"What the hell!" I screamed.
She slumped onto the bed, holding her head in huge hands she began to sob hysterically. It was ten minutes before she had calmed down enough to speak.
"I'm so sorry, I'm so ashamed." She sobbed. "I felt so desperate. I'm so sorry. What will people think?"
"I'll not tell anyone but what were you doing?"
"My husband wasn't much of a man for me. All he would do was lift my nightdress and get on top. It never lasted but at least it was something. He died a long time ago." She said softly.
"So, you were humping my leg." I thought I may have been mistaken, that it was just the struggle.
She began to sob again and seemed to be struggling to breathe.
