Ahead of his Time by Adrian Cousins (read novels website .TXT) 📗

to go steady, and she’d thought it might be the real thing this time. But she was wrong, and she should’ve known dating a bloke from the office was never a good idea. She must have been stupid to think it could have ever worked as he had a reputation of being unable to keep it in his trousers. But Scott was a real hunk, and he’d charmed the knickers off her – literally.

Midnight. Christ, it would take ages to walk home.

Leaning backwards whilst hopping on the spot, she tugged off her stilettos. She’d have to walk barefoot as there was no way she could walk home in them after downing copious amounts of champagne cocktails. Not without the high probability of keeling over, and undoubtedly, resulting in a compound fracture. Oh, yes, that really would slap the icing on the cake of a shite evening.

Sarah prayed for a taxi to appear and was now regretting getting out of Scott’s car. As it was a main road, she expected there would be many taxis at this time of night ferrying pissed-up revellers making their way back from town. Clutch bag in one hand, shoes in the other, Sarah marched home, seething and cursing all men.

Although it was a few minutes into Sunday morning, the air was warm with a refreshing light breeze. She thought the walk might clear her head, avoiding a hangover in the morning, so some good would come from the shite end to the evening.

This was the first proper event they’d attended as a couple, and she’d been looking forward to this year’s office summer ball. Although it was more of a party in a large tent than a proper ball in a marquee. Scott had revealed his true self – wandering hands self – which had resulted in them arguing for most of the evening.               Even though she’d told him to, Sarah was surprised Scott had driven off and left her at this time of night. Not that she’d now get back in his car. No way – it was a matter of principle! Anyway, a taxi would surely be along in a minute – she hoped.

Up ahead, she spotted the entrance to the cut-through lane leading down to the City School. It would take at least a mile off her walk home. Down the lane, through the school playing field and out on to Eaton estate. She knew this route well as she’d spent her school years there, leaving in the spring of ’79 after the sixth form. However, she was never comfortable taking that route in the dark. No, she’d walk on, play it safe and pray for a taxi.

In the distance, she noticed headlights approaching. Had Scott come back for her? No, it had a light on top – oh good, she thought – a taxi. As the car drew closer, Sarah felt a wave of relief as indeed it was a taxi. However, its taxi-light wasn’t illuminated and, now she couldn’t remember if that meant it was for hire or it already had a fare. She stopped and waved her shoes in the air and then started jumping up and down to get the driver’s attention. The taxi didn’t slow and just careered on by. “Wanker,” she muttered. She huffed and set about carrying on with her long walk home, wishing she hadn’t got out of Scott's car.

~

He cupped the cigarette in his hand, ensuring the lit end couldn’t be seen if anyone looked into the cut-through lane. Nestled in the laurel hedge a few feet into the lane, he was now bored. Although he’d only been there for five minutes, he knew he needed to be patient. He’d finish his cigarette, have another one, and then if no luck, he’d move on. He wasn’t going to stand there all night and now suspected few idiotic women would be walking about at this time of night. Dropping the butt and stubbing it out under his trainer, he reached into the inside pocket of his leather jacket for his cigarettes. Peering through the hedge, he could see at least fifty yards down Coldhams Lane without sticking his head right out in clear view.

“Perfect, fucking perfect,” he whispered. Some dumb pissed cow was marching barefoot up the road, swinging her high-heeled shoes. Nice, he thought. Slim, little tight dress, and very screwable. He breathed deeply to calm himself, his excitement building as the adrenalin rushed around his body. The anticipation was always better than the act. This was it, the glorious feeling of control and desire – he’d have what he wanted – he licked his lips.

~

Sarah stopped at the lane entrance and peered down what appeared to be a dark funnel, noting at least half the small street lamps were broken. She visualised the route, weighing up her options. It was only about a hundred yards to the gate, then on to the playing fields which she could sprint across, and then she’d be home. Decision time, long way home, or make a dash for it? She peered into the lane entrance again, placing her hand across the top of her eyes to block out the dim light from the streetlamp to her left. Could she see the end of the lane? Was anyone down there?

Out of the corner of her eye, she noticed sudden movement. Swivelling her head, she spotted Scott’s car edging along the road – he’d come back. Turning to face the bright headlights, she stood with her chin up and the heels of her hands on her hips. Well, he had come back, but no way was she getting in the car! But a moment ago, she wished she hadn’t got out of it. Hmmm, well, if he apologised, she might get back in – it would be sensible – but only if he apologised.

“Sarah, get in the car. Come on,” Scott yelled, as he leant across the passenger seat. He nudged