he strode, his finger outstretched to press the bell and lean on it till either the electricity failed or the wall fell in. But before he made contact, the door opened and he passed inside without a pause. Behind him the door slammed shut and a voice, equally violent, demanded, 'Col, for God's sake! What the hell are you doing here?'
He turned and looked at her. Stella Mycroft, who had been Stella Gibson, known to him since childhood, and known to him in the biblical sense for the first time one velvet summer night in Gratterley Wood seven years ago.
'You look as if you were expecting me,' he said.
'What do you mean?' she said, her face tense with indignation.
'Flinging the door open, dragging me in,' he grinned. 'Real welcoming!'
'I didn't drag you in,' she retorted. 'I was lucky enough to spot you out of the window, I just hoped I could get you in before every nosey bugger in the street saw you. Some hope.'
'You could have pretended you were out.'
'You mean you wouldn't have rung the bell till it fell off the post, then kicked the door in? I know you, Colin Farr, and I saw the look on your face.'
'Oh aye. Then you'll know what I've come for.'
He went into the lounge. It was a bright and sunny room with lemon emulsioned walls and floral curtains to match the loose covers on the suite. An open fireplace had a fire laid in it, ready for lighting when the warmth of this autumn day gave way to the chill of night.
'You amaze me, you know that?' she said, following him. 'They only say things like that at the pictures. This is South Yorkshire, not South bloody California!'
He moved swiftly towards her and pulled her to him in a violent embrace that stopped her words before his mouth completed the job.
'You're bloody crazy,' she gasped when he finally drew his lips away. She tried to pull back, but he held her to him without any effort and kissed her again, running hands up and down her body from neck to buttocks.
With their lips parted again, her head moved this way and that as she darted glances round the room. Colin Farr smiled. She wasn't seeking an escape route. She was checking possible viewpoints.
He released her and began to strip off his clothes.
'What if someone comes?" she said.
'It'll likely be me,' he replied sardonically.
'No, you silly bugger, you know what I mean.'
'Pull the curtains, don't answer the door.'
'That'd be like advertising on telly round here,' she objected. But she was already beginning to unbutton her blouse.
Naked, they stood and looked at each other.
"Shall I light the fire?' she said slyly, it's a bit chilly like
this.'
'We'll not need a fire,' he said, stepping towards her.
Their coupling was violent and swift, more like a battle than an act of love. Spent, he collapsed across her, a dead weight, his face buried in her hair.
'You needed that,' she observed. 'You'd think you'd just got off that boat of yours.'
'I've been saving myself up.'
'I bet.' She pushed him off her and rose on one elbow to look down at him. 'All right, let's have it. What's going off?'
'What do you think?'
'I don't know. You come early off shift, straight up here, bang, you're in. What's going off?'
He said, 'How do you know I've come early off shift?'
'How do I know?' she echoed slowly. 'Well, I don't reckon you brought your snap tin just in case you fancied a jam buttie while you were in the stirrups! So come on, Col. What's it all about? I'm entitled to know who's being fucked here, me or Gav.'
He wrinkled his nose in distaste.
'You didn't use to talk like that, Stella,' he reproved.
'Didn't I? Mebbe I've grown up since last time we talked. Can you not see the difference?'
He let his gaze travel up and down her slim brown body, then took one of the pear-shaped breasts in his hand.
'Mebbe an extra half-ounce there,' he said, hefting it. 'Otherwise no change.'
'Cheeky bugger,' she said, running her hand down the line of his flank. 'You've not changed either, except you're a bit rougher than
He turned and looked at her. Stella Mycroft, who had been Stella Gibson, known to him since childhood, and known to him in the biblical sense for the first time one velvet summer night in Gratterley Wood seven years ago.
'You look as if you were expecting me,' he said.
'What do you mean?' she said, her face tense with indignation.
'Flinging the door open, dragging me in,' he grinned. 'Real welcoming!'
'I didn't drag you in,' she retorted. 'I was lucky enough to spot you out of the window, I just hoped I could get you in before every nosey bugger in the street saw you. Some hope.'
'You could have pretended you were out.'
'You mean you wouldn't have rung the bell till it fell off the post, then kicked the door in? I know you, Colin Farr, and I saw the look on your face.'
'Oh aye. Then you'll know what I've come for.'
He went into the lounge. It was a bright and sunny room with lemon emulsioned walls and floral curtains to match the loose covers on the suite. An open fireplace had a fire laid in it, ready for lighting when the warmth of this autumn day gave way to the chill of night.
'You amaze me, you know that?' she said, following him. 'They only say things like that at the pictures. This is South Yorkshire, not South bloody California!'
He moved swiftly towards her and pulled her to him in a violent embrace that stopped her words before his mouth completed the job.
'You're bloody crazy,' she gasped when he finally drew his lips away. She tried to pull back, but he held her to him without any effort and kissed her again, running hands up and down her body from neck to buttocks.
With their lips parted again, her head moved this way and that as she darted glances round the room. Colin Farr smiled. She wasn't seeking an escape route. She was checking possible viewpoints.
He released her and began to strip off his clothes.
'What if someone comes?" she said.
'It'll likely be me,' he replied sardonically.
'No, you silly bugger, you know what I mean.'
'Pull the curtains, don't answer the door.'
'That'd be like advertising on telly round here,' she objected. But she was already beginning to unbutton her blouse.
Naked, they stood and looked at each other.
"Shall I light the fire?' she said slyly, it's a bit chilly like
this.'
'We'll not need a fire,' he said, stepping towards her.
Their coupling was violent and swift, more like a battle than an act of love. Spent, he collapsed across her, a dead weight, his face buried in her hair.
'You needed that,' she observed. 'You'd think you'd just got off that boat of yours.'
'I've been saving myself up.'
'I bet.' She pushed him off her and rose on one elbow to look down at him. 'All right, let's have it. What's going off?'
'What do you think?'
'I don't know. You come early off shift, straight up here, bang, you're in. What's going off?'
He said, 'How do you know I've come early off shift?'
'How do I know?' she echoed slowly. 'Well, I don't reckon you brought your snap tin just in case you fancied a jam buttie while you were in the stirrups! So come on, Col. What's it all about? I'm entitled to know who's being fucked here, me or Gav.'
He wrinkled his nose in distaste.
'You didn't use to talk like that, Stella,' he reproved.
'Didn't I? Mebbe I've grown up since last time we talked. Can you not see the difference?'
He let his gaze travel up and down her slim brown body, then took one of the pear-shaped breasts in his hand.
'Mebbe an extra half-ounce there,' he said, hefting it. 'Otherwise no change.'
'Cheeky bugger,' she said, running her hand down the line of his flank. 'You've not changed either, except you're a bit rougher than
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