The Cellar

<<Closed for Patrick1 and I>>

Cara
31
5'3"
Petite and athletic, 34D
Long dark hair
brown eyes


Cara looked around the small cellar, despair crushing her, as she noticed the water breaching the external walls. She had bought this house, using the lion's share of her settlement from Paul, and she should have known that her Ex Husband would somehow manage to taint her new life.

She had loved this place, it was in a quiet area, but as a free lance reporter, doing occasional human interest stories, she could live where she chose, and this quiet little village appealed to her. The house, in particular, appealed. The little three bedroomed place was quaint, she used one room for her gym equipment, another as a guest room, not that she had any guests to invite, her friends, formerly mutual friends, had evaporated when she and her investment banker ex had split.

She had really liked the cellar. Although underground, and without windows, it had surprisingly good head room, and she had intended to make it a work room, fit it out with shelves, a desk, her computer, a place where she could write undistracted by everything around her.

She had only lived here four months, and knew no one really - oh there was the odd neighbour, and they would exchange a polite "good morning" but nothing more. Then it hit her! What-his-name!! The builder!! He might be able to fix the leak, stop the water seeping in, or if not, he was sure to know of someone reliable who could!! Brilliant! If only she could recall his name. He had introduced himself a couple of months ago, when she had gone for a drink in the local pub, but, still smarting from her fresh divorce, she had given him the brush off. Not to worry, she would wing it!

She walked toward his place, wracking her brain for his name, but it had not come to her when she reached his door.

"Hello there! I'm your neighbour, I'm not sure if you remember me?" why had she said that, reminding him of the encounter, where she had been little more than off hand? She blushed. "I bought that place there?" she indicated her house, "I wondered if you might be ablt to have a look at my cellar? I'm leaking water, and I though, being a builder and all.......... maybe you'd be interested in fixing it for me, or if not, perhaps you could point me in the direction of a reputable guy - I dont want some cowboy!!" Now she was casting disparaging remarks about members of his profession!!! Could she be more gauche?? She smiled, hoping to sooth any raw feelings. "Please, I'd really appreciate it?"

Rick
38
6' but hunched, shy, thin and wary, green-eyed.

It was meant, somehow. Rick knew it must be. He didn't even remember his cousin Marcus not that they'd been a close family but even so when he looked through his old photograph album he couldn't find Marcus anyway and yet Marcus had gone and got himself killed riding his Harley XL 1200 Nightster into the sunset and his parents dead already who was there left but Rick to get the house?

It was dirty and a little rundown but he had time to spare, work for his brother's building firm was off and on, and his part-time shifts with the postal service meant he was home at lunchtimes on the three days he worked for them. So without any friends to speak of what was there to do but enjoy his new house, clean clean clean it up, buy it a little furniture from time to time maybe, do some work on it, and keep an eye on...

Her.

Her house was a little down the hill, almost secluded from the others in the cul-de-sac. The road bent round from Rick's past the others' so her house was only nearest to his as the crow flies.

First time he saw her, maybe the second day after he'd moved in, he was cleaning his windows upstairs and she was sunbathing on her patio, probably thought no-one could see and actually you could only glimpse her through the overhanging branches of an oak tree but he saw her, naked but for a thin strip of blue material at her hips, and that's when he first thought: hey, maybe this was meant. Meant to be.

That same evening he bought some strong binoculars, and moved his desk and chair into the upstairs room where he'd been cleaning the windows, and woke up halfway through the night, his head on his hands, asleep at the window-sill. There was a light in an upstairs window at her house. She wanted him to be there, watching over her. He slept again, comforted.

*

He soon saw that he'd have to play a long game. He must have passed her on the street half a dozen times and she didn't say hello and his face burned and his prick stood to attention and what could he do?

He could watch, and wait. Even though summer soon ended and his free peep-show of her on her back patio came to an end.

It was when he got talking to the neighbour on the other side from her about the problem the old guy was having with an underground stream that an idea began to form.

And then, that time she finally talked to him at the Swan with Two Necks and he was filthy from doing a job for his brother and found himself exaggerating just what he could do in the way of building works – then the idea really took hold.

So it was kind of inevitable – no, it was meant – that she would arrive at his door one night and invite him over, wasn't it?

And he wasn't angry at her brush-offs, at how she couldn't remember his name, at her snobbish manner. Not really. Not when he could foresee how he might take his revenge.

Cara looked at him wracking her brain for his name, and then finally, a chink of light, and she recalled it was Nick ... no... no not quite..it was...

"Rick! Hello!" she blushed. She had been babbling on about the repair job she needed done, or perhaps it was major structural work .... really, she had no idea, and then suddenly, she had blurted out his name!!!

Feelling incredibly silly, she bit her lower lip.

"Do you think you could take a look at it for me? It really is getting might wet in there, its more than a bit of dampness, water is actually trickling in between the blockwork."

He was making her a little uneasy, standing there, more or less silently, but then, she realised, she had hardly given him the chance to get a word in edge wise.

She took a moment to look him over. Aside from his piercing eyes, he was quite.... well, average looking, the kind of person you passed in the street and didn't notice, the type who blended in with a crowd. She realised then, that if he straightened up, if he had a make over, he would be quite a decent looking bloke.

What was she thinking?? Only recently divorced, the last things she needed, was a man - well, she could have used a man, but only to sate her sexual needs. As it was, it had been so long, she wondered if it was possible to become a virgin once more - perhaps her hymen had regrown? Closed, due to lack of use!!! She giggled, and then realised how silly she must look to him, and she certainly couldn't tell him what she found so entertaining. Reverting to the reason for her visit, she addressed him once more.

"Rick, you'd earn my undying gratitude if you would be able to check out my cellar tonight? ...... Please!" she added with a smile, fluttering her eye lashes unconsciously.