A group of us pooled our resources and hired a cottage for the spring break, down by the sea. Even pooling our resources, the only reason we could afford it was because it was a bit off the beaten track. Still, it suited us. The beach was right there, and if we needed anything from the shops or wanted to go elsewhere we had our cars or, in my case, a motorbike.
We were evenly divided into male/female and were all legally adults, even if I had doubts about the mental adultness of a couple of the group. None of us were actually partners but I suspected Paul and Irene might be going steady by the end of the holiday. These things don't always work out the way you expect but that was the way it seemed to be heading. With Irene effectively out of the running that left me a choice of Marie or Bronwyn. In theory, anyway. In actuality, Marie and I were like cat and dog, which left me with Bronwyn if I wanted a peaceful time. (Possibly I should say Marie and I were like cat and mouse, while being unsure who was the cat and who the mouse.)
Mind you, Bronwyn was a very nice girl but we had friend-zoned each other very firmly. Kissing her would be like kissing my little sister. Polite and passionless. I had mentally resigned myself to going without any nookie for the duration but that was OK. One never knew what other opportunities might arise.
Don't get me wrong about Marie. Just because I didn't get on well with her didn't mean that she wasn't a very nice young woman. It was just that I found her to be ultra-competitive whereas I'm far more easy going. I was competitive enough and quite adept at getting my own way, but I tended to be subtle about it, as opposed to Marie's in-your-face philosophy.
The first few days at the cottage passed peacefully enough. Sometimes we went about as a group and sometimes we went our individual ways. We were just relaxing and winding down after the stress of exams and such stuff.
On the fourth day I woke bright and early and actually got out of bed. Yeah, I know. Morning is the accepted time for sleeping, especially when you're on holiday, but I woke up feeling restless and needing to be on the move.
When I got downstairs I found Marie in the kitchen making coffee. This didn't really surprise me. I figured she was the sort of girl to get out of bed the moment she woke up. The only thing that did surprise me was that she was still in her pyjamas. If asked I'd have guessed that she'd have been showered and dressed before she left her room. It appears I'd have guessed wrong.
She looked surprised and irritated to see me. I saw her flick a glance down at her pyjamas and suspected that she was feeling a little uncomfortable being caught still wearing them. I don't see why. They were flannelette and covered her better than a blanket would, and were baggy enough to totally hide any semblance of a figure.
"How come you're down so early?" she asked, sounding as though I'd made a grievous faux pas.
"Why not?" I asked in reply. "It looks as though it's going to be a fine day and I thought I'd get an early start on it."
She muttered something under her breath, clearly disgruntled. I suppose she liked being first up, patting herself on the back for not being as lazy as the rest of us. Too bad.
Seeing the coffee was on I reached for a mug. Somehow, coffee always tastes better if someone else makes it. That could, of course, be a sad reflection on my coffee brewing abilities.
Did I mention the cat? The guy who leased us the place told us about him. He had appeared one day and adopted the cottage as his home. The owner didn't mind as he kept the place free of rodents and did his personal business outside the house. He did specify that we shouldn't feed him. Apparently the cat was supposed to hunt up his own dinner.
Have you ever seen a cat do a berserker run? They'll be sitting quietly one moment and the next they're charging around as though someone has stuck a rocket up their bum. I'd just poured myself some coffee when the cat appeared.
He came streaking in from the hallway doing about 90mph. A nimble leap and he was on the table and disaster struck him. He didn't actually land on the table. He landed on a table-mat that was on the table. Cat and mat went sliding across the table and off the other side, slamming into Marie.
Now cats, if they are falling, use all those little hooks attached to their feet to latch onto something to arrest the fall. In this case the something was Marie's pyjamas. The cat's claws hooked onto the pyjamas and the cat held onto his grip. It was just unfortunate that the pyjama bottom was loose enough, and the cat heavy enough, to allow gravity a say in the situation.
Cat attached, the pyjamas slid down, revealing one reason for Marie being slightly uncomfortable with my presence. She didn't wear underwear with pyjamas.
Marie squealed and slapped her hands in front of herself. Too slowly to keep me from seeing everything, but she did try. At the same time she was swearing at the cat and telling me not to look at her. Or was she swearing at me? Might have been, I guess.
I was all consideration.
"Are you OK?" I asked, moving towards her. "Did the brute scratch you at all? Cat scratches can be quite nasty. Better let me take a look."
At the same time I was plucking at the top of her pyjamas, moving them away from her legs while I checked for damages.
Marie indicated that she hadn't been scratched and that there was no need for me to look. I was, quite frankly, shocked. I hadn't dreamed that such a well brought up young lady would know words like that, let alone use them on me.
"No, really," I protested. "I was just trying to be helpful. You shouldn't say things like that. You could hurt my feelings."
"If you fucking laugh it will be more than your feelings that hurt," she said through gritted teeth. "Go away. You're too close."
Way too close, actually. Too close for her to bend down and grab her pants and pull them up. She could have crouched and grabbed them but wouldn't that have given me a nice display.
I changed position slightly, not that the change met with her approval. I reached out with one foot and pressed down on her pyjamas, preventing any chance of her pulling them up.
"What the fuck do you think you're doing?" she demanded.
"Taking unconscionable advantage of your misfortune," I said equably. "I'm not budging until you stand up properly."
I'm a large young man. Very large. Quite strong, too. Marie didn't have a show of moving me unless I wanted to be moved. She knew it, too. She straightened up, standing tall and daring me to look her over. I did.
"Pervert," she snapped. "Can I pull up my pyjamas now?"
