The Escape

By Susan Wells

Simon pulled up in the black convertible.

Kate slung her suitcase in the back, sliding deftly into the passenger seat. He leaned over and put his hand gently on her thigh, a tiny gasp of pleasure escaping from her lips as the rush of desire rippled up and down her spine.

“Let’s go,” Simon returned to the wheel and accelerated into the traffic.

“Did you get the tickets, love?”

“Yes, and everything else!” Kate laughed.

“Then we’re ready to go! I have been in a hotel for a couple of days, booked until tomorrow. I thought we’d go straight to dinner at a little restaurant I know.”

So self-assured, she thought and nodded, although she had been hoping to shower and ready herself for a wild night. Anyway, she resigned, she could wing it for now and shower later.

The restaurant was blissfully intimate and Kate watched Simon’s every move through dinner carefully, somewhat like a cat savouring its kill. After, they made their way back to the hotel and Kate went to the bathroom.  Simon had taken off his suit and underclothes and climbed beneath the crisp white hotel bed sheets.

As she showered, she could hear him on his mobile; to clients or contacts, perhaps, she thought. After applying a tiny bit of makeup, she entered the bedroom, dressed only in a bathrobe.

Not able hide the excitement and anticipation she felt, a smile was plastered firmly on her face. She had half entertained the thought of dressing up in her nurse uniform, surprising Simon. But her clothes were still packed in her suitcase and he beckoned, urgently.

“Come here love.”

Arms reached out and she fell to his embrace. Their lovemaking became fast, desirous, leaving no stone unturned, as the night drove them on.

Sleep came, finally, as did the morning light. Rays of sunshine filtered in through the gaps in the heavy curtaining and Kate awoke. Get to the bathroom, she thought. Untangling herself from the twisted sheets, she stretched up like a contented feline.

Reaching down to grab her robe, she noticed something odd. Something was lying on the floor, just next to where her robe had been strewn.

It was a lone stocking, a black stocking. Not one of hers, which were pale. She picked up the stocking, paced to the bathroom and took a few deep breaths.

“He’s been here for a few days?” Kate asked herself as her mind raced on in sudden panic.

Hotel suite serviced daily, the lone stocking obviously not a housemaid’s error. In fact, the suite had been immaculately clean.

Clothes and jewellery in hand, she crept past the bedroom, glancing at Simon, his breath heavy, still asleep. She stepped into the lounge, dressed quickly.

 “A man I don’t know!” She whispered to herself, as she took up her suitcase, found the door and outside.

“To the airport please,” Kate directed the taxi driver.

Her mind raced. She had the money and both airline tickets and Simon had no details, she had made certain of that. She reached for her mobile and made the call.

A hospital in London answered.

“Yes it’s Kate Turner calling. I’ll be arriving the day after tomorrow, to start on September 20th. I will call to confirm the day before.”

She was on her way …