A Plague Of Dissent
Lying around in a hospital bed is a really boring thing to do once the drugs wear off; at least Adam always found it so. So when the man in the bed beside him offered Adam his prepaid TV card as he was about to be discharged, Adam accepted and turned on the news.
He was greeted by images of shops burning in Tottenham, black balaclava wearing youths smashing shop windows in Manchester and looters running out of shops with bags full of stolen goods in the West End of London.
Of which Adam had heard nothing.
The shot cut to the anchor as she commentated upon the riots.
“It appears that these riots are in response to the shooting of a young man in London by the police yesterday. But, how and why they had spread across the UK and why so many who would never have known of the existence of this young man until a few hours before, are involved in such wanton destruction, no one seems to be able to explain,” Said the pretty blonde anchor.
“So far the police have only confirmed that riots have been reported in the city centres of London, Manchester, Birmingham and Bristol all of which started less than an hour ago but have given no further statement other than that they are responding as quickly as possible.”
The image on the TV cut back to the violence and looting on the streets; the first a shot of several wheelie bins piled high with flammable material, covered in sheets of flame with thick black smoke billowing into the sky. They were being pushed down the street by gangs of rioters and into shops and cars.
“We have a Bruce Dickinson reporting from a helicopter over Tottenham. Can you tell us what is happening there Bruce?
“Yes Sarah Jane. There seems to a lady standing in the middle of the street shouting something at the rioters. There are a few police standing behind her about 100 meters further up the street as yet they don’t appear to be moving and are by the looks of things completely outnumbered by the rioters. Wait!
“The rioters are getting closer to the lady who is still shouting something at them and doesn’t appear to be moving out of their way. My God! This is awful. They have pushed her into a burning car and are now closing on the police line. There must be at least 200 of them.”
The commentary was suddenly lost as the helicopter shot pulled back revealing more and more rioters moving toward the police, some armed with Molotov cocktails, machetes and homemade spears made from knives taped to lengths of wood. As the rioters passed the lady whose clothes were now beginning to burn several people ran out of a shop doorway and pulled her away from the burning car.
The shot continued to pull back revealing the police holding position at the end of the street with their riot shields raised steeling themselves for first contact with the rioters. It was painfully obvious that they were completely outnumbered. The shot continued to widen revealing fires sweeping across the city behind them, as the first of the rioters hit the police lines hurling their spears and Molotov cocktails.
The TV then cut back to a shocked and somewhat distracted anchor as she explained that they had lost the live feed.
Adam watched the images of similar incidents in cities across the country, for several more minutes as shocked as the anchor seemed to be. He then switched the TV off; this wasn’t what he needed right now. It was far too depressing. He then began to think about events in his own life over the past few weeks.
Despite that he had flirted with the nurse; he had recently become very interested in a girl he had just met, so his thoughts soon turned to her. He had first seen her in the steam room at the gym. Shrouded in steam all he could see was a pair of athletic legs, a great backside and a slender tattooed back, as she was laying face down. But it was definitely that bum that grabbed his attention. It had taken a minute or two to realise that he was staring it was that good. The tiny bikini wasn’t helping either. She would soon turn around and catch him he thought, and he had better go to the sauna to cool down.
After 10 minutes in the sauna, it was time to get a cold shower, his mind still on that great bum and then a dip in the jacuzzi, much as he did regularly, as a workout recovery routine.
As he immersed himself in the hot bubbling water, he discovered much to his pleasure that the girl was now in the jacuzzi, there was no mistaking the bikini, and she was as pretty as she was sexy. She made room for him to sit beside her, said hello with an enticing smile and then turned to another older lady sitting to the other side, speaking to her in what sounded like Spanish.
As they talked, Adam thought as he relaxed into the bubbles
Spanish I wonder where she’s from, South or Central America, perhaps?
When they stopped talking, he decided that it would be easier to ask than to keep guessing.
“That’s Spanish you are speaking isn’t? Where are you from?
“I’m from Cuba, but I live in Plymouth now this is my mother who is visiting me. Do you speak Spanish?”
“No, not really, just enough to order a beer and get by with the basics”
The smile and the knowing look he received told him that she understood exactly what he meant by the basics.
“That’s okay; I like to practice my English as much as possible anyway”
Adam noted that she wore no wedding ring but had a ring on her right hand there was also no white mark of a wedding ring on her finger, and she did have a tan.
Adam had spent a lot of his time sailing in the Caribbean and had stopped off at a Cuban island one time, so getting the girl into conversation wasn’t difficult at all. Occasionally bringing in the mother making sure she didn’t get bored and drag her daughter away.
After nearly 20 minutes of conversation, the mother and her daughter said their goodbyes, but not without an introduction and,
“Hopefully I’ll see you again, we come here around this time several times a week.”
As she rose Adam again had sight of that gorgeous backside and the best set of legs he had ever seen attached to it. Beads of water trickled down her bronzed back, over her tiny bikini and down her legs as she walked up the steps and out of the water. If that wasn’t enough to ensure that he would be there every day at that time for the rest of the month if he had to, then the look she gave him over her shoulder surely was. Not that it had taken that long; a few days later they met again and again a few after that, all the time in the presence of her mother, who spoke no English at all.
It was during their fourth meeting in the bubbling jacuzzi, when the subject of the forthcoming America’s Cup came into the conversation. The two, Isobel, it had turned out was her name, and her mother wanted to watch it but were wondering where would be the best vantage points. Adam happily suggested various places for them to watch the races.
“It’s a shame I don’t know more about yacht racing I’ve heard it is fun, but I don’t understand the rules at all,” Said Isobel with what Adam thought she intended as coy smile but there was nothing coy about Isobel; she had him wrapped around her little finger and knew it, as did he.
“That’s okay I can explain what’s going on as we watch the races”
Although Adam’s favourite sport was definitely rugby, growing up by the sea particularly in a place like Bali, instils a love of water sports in many, Adam was no exception. He was a very good surfer, he’d dived all over the world and spent a lot of time sailing, even competing several times in the King’s Cup, an annual event which takes place in Phuket Thailand every year.
Spending an afternoon with Isobel explaining the rules of the America’s Cup seemed like a great idea, even though she probably wouldn’t be wearing one of her tiny bikinis. Upon leaving he offered his mobile number arranging to meet the following Sunday.
Lying there in the hospital bed he thought that, at that point, everything seemed to be going very nicely, he had a tentative date with the cutest no sexiest girl he had met for a long time. It didn’t seem to be all about her looks or her body there was something else there as well, although her body was the primary interest at that time. His research work at the Plymouth University and others in Europe certainly brought him into contact with lots of girls, but this one was definitely something special, not that he could quantify what that was, but his cock hardened when he thought about her and that was all that mattered.
It had all looked good until he got that first text from her; it said,
I will be on the Hoe on Sunday with my mother and my husband, and I hope to see you there. Isobel xx
Husband! That had been a devastating blow, he couldn’t believe it.
On that Sunday afternoon, the sun was out, and a good racing wind was blowing across the Sound. It promised to be a good day to watch the first race, he decided he might as well go up to the Hoe which overlooked the whole of the Sound; it was the best vantage point to watch the races after all.
Leaving his car in the car park of a friend’s hotel, figuring that he might as well stop there for dinner later, he walked up the hill towards the Hoe. As he rounded a corner, he almost collided with a man cursing into a mobile phone, catching the words
“He wants me where, tomorrow? Jesus Christ! Can’t you handle it?
And after a pause, “OK, Ok I’ll be there”.
He was about to apologize to the man, for almost colliding with him but before the words rolled off his tongue, the man launched into a tirade of,
“Why don’t you look where you are going? Get out of my way you fool!”
Adam, not really in the mood for that, decided to keep on walking and ignore the rude fool. A few minutes later, he arrived by the big screen that had been installed on the Hoe to display the races, and began to watch as a shot taken from a helicopter tightened on the yachts as they crossed the line to begin the first race.
He was right with his initial assessment of the day it was perfect sailing weather. The wind, coming in from the South West was strong enough to get the yachts moving very quickly but not too strong to prohibit the use of their enormous spinnakers. As they were pulled up the mast, they popped open, accelerating the yachts forward, skipping over the white crested waves.
After watching for maybe 5 minutes, he heard that unmistakable voice again. This time instead of shouting into a mobile phone, he was shouting at somebody obscured from his view. Adam decided he really didn’t like this guy and moved slightly to his left to get a better view of whoever he was chastising this time, only to discover it was Isobel, standing there with her mother.
That was enough he thought and began to walk towards them. As he did so, Isobel looked up catching sight of Adam as he walked toward them, realizing his intent; she shook her head before turning to the man and saying.
“But we have only just got here”
“I don’t care; I have to be back in London in the morning I need you to pack my bags, now!”
By now many others in the crowd had heard the argument and had turned to look and stare, the man Adam realised must be the husband grabbed Isobel’s arm and began walking away, pulling her after him. Isobel turned to look at Adam whose face by now was like thunder and shook her head, cast her eyes down and followed the man, calling her mother to do the same.
Adam watched as they walked away, thinking, that explained quite a lot. Isobel, it would seem, was not very happy, perhaps trapped in a marriage to a man far older than she and one obviously without an ounce of manners.
But what could he or should he do about it?
She had his mobile number so if she wanted to contact him she could, and he certainly wouldn’t be feeling guilty about it if she did, with that prick of man she was married to.
What to do now?
Well he was here, the sun was out and apart from the performance he had just witnessed it was a lovely day. So why not make the most of it and watch the rest of the day’s races? Perhaps he would stop off for a drink and a meal at his friend’s hotel where he had left his car earlier.
That was what he did and part way through his meal he received a text from Isobel.
She told him she was very sorry about what he had seen earlier and that she really wanted to see him again, and that she would be going to the gym alone the day after next if he would like to meet her there. He texted in reply, that he would like to see her as well and that he would be there at his usual time, mid afternoon as it was the quietest.
As arranged, they met on Tuesday. Adam had just finished his daily workout and was already in the jacuzzi as Isobel slid in beside him. He wasn’t angry with her he had no right to be, but he was confused. He sat there without saying a word for several minutes until he felt her hand move over his finger tips to grasp his hand. He turned to her and was about to speak as she said,
“I’m sorry. I should have told you I was married when we first met but couldn’t. I liked you; I still do and want to see more of you”
They talked for a long time, Isobel told him how she had met her husband in Cuba when she was still a teenager, how he had swept her off her feet and brought her to the UK with promises of a great life. And how subsequently he had left her alone most of the time for the past two years, he living in London and her in Plymouth. She had been ready to leave him and the UK and go back to Cuba, when her mother came over for a visit, realising how alone and desperate her daughter was becoming.
She also told him that her mother had realised what was happening between Isobel and Adam over the past couple of weeks and actually approved of it, thinking her daughter would be much happier with him than with her husband.
As luck would have it, just as Adam was about to kiss her, which was all he had wanted to do for the past half an hour whilst they talked, they received company. By this time, the gym always started to get busy. As others stepped into the jacuzzi, Isobel stood, gave him a quick peck on the cheek and left, leaving him even more confused than before. He knew he wanted her badly, but not as another man’s wife and a casual fling. That really wasn’t his style at all.
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