Ay: Nisan 2024

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My interactions with Katherine Bond would surely have reached the inevitable climax had it not been for the worst late-spring storm to hit the south coast of Britain in decades.

I was getting ready for bed when the call came in from the night watchman at the Sewage Plant that the effluent was racing into the site, fueled by heavy rain. On the ocean side of the site, the tide, driven by winds gusting in excess of sixty miles per hour, was thrusting twenty-five-foot high waves against the walls of the holding tanks. The tanks, constructed in Victorian times and rarely renovated, would give way and release millions of gallons of untreated sewage into the harbour.

I re-dressed quickly, remembering to throw waterproof gear into the back of the car, and headed for the Plant. On the way, I called Fred Lammas who was on the night shift this week. I was pleasantly surprised to learn that he had anticipated an emergency and had already summoned the rest of the work force. I toyed with the idea of calling Kate, but that was purely selfishness on my part because I wanted her to be there with me. Site maintenance was hardly in her job description, and besides, there was nothing useful she could do. I decided to let her sleep, if she could sleep through the torrential rain and lightning now ripping the night apart.

Anxious faces greeted me as I entered through the main gates. Fred Lammas, the employee who had experienced the inside of a holding tank first hand, led me to look at the sewage intake. I caught my breath at the site of the Amazonian torrent. The muddy surface of the effluent was only eight feet below the top of the culvert that fed it into the various holding tanks to await commutation and subsequent filtration, instead of the usual twenty feet. If the storm did not ease up in the next few hours, the site would flood.

“That ain’t the worst of it,” Lammas informed me, raising his voice to be heard over the howling gale. “This way.”

I followed him up the ladder of the closest holding tank, then following him along the gantry, holding onto the rail for dear life lest I slip and fall into the black waters beneath me. The western-most tank was still a hundred yards away, but even from here I could see the explosions of sea spray as the waves rammed against the tank walls, the water droplets sparkling in the arc lights used to illuminate the site.

“Oh my God,” I muttered, my words swept away on the wind. Lammas was right: The old tank wasn’t going to take much more of this treatment. It was the day I warned the Divisional Director about time and time again, and yet every year he still cut my budget, preventing all but the most basic remedial work to be undertaken. “We reap what we sow,” I thought.

“What do you want me to do, chief?” Lammas asked.

“Nothing,” I shouted back. “I’m not sending anyone in there to do anything. The thing will just have to run its course, and we’ll hope for the best.”

When he didn’t respond, I glanced over at him and saw that his head was turned. His face, partially visible beneath his sou’wester, registered surprise. I turned to see Kate standing a few yards away on the gantry, dressed in a plastic rain coat with a hood pulled up and secured under her chin. She unshouldered a bag from her right shoulder.

“I brought some flasks of tea and coffee,” she explained as she set the bag down and stooped over it.

“Bless you, Kate,” I said as I stooped before her. “Not here. There’s nothing we can do out here. Let’s get into the office and I’ll see if I raise anyone at HQ to let them know what’s going on.”

We moved back across the plant, heads bowed low against the driving rain. I was soaked to the skin, and Kate clothing wasn’t as sturdy as mine. I used the torch to direct my key into the lock, but when I stepped into the office and tried the lights, nothing happened. “Damn,” I sighed. “The power’s out.”

“Actually, I think the power is out for the whole area,” Kate pointed out. “Everything was black as I drove down.”

“Ah, right,” I nodded. “Things were still lit when I came down. Mind you, the wiring on the entire site was a safety inspector’s worst nightmare, so we won’t really know unless we check it. The problem could be local.”

“Let me take the torch and I’ll find the fuse boxes,” Kate volunteered, her voice a little tense. In fact, she sounded worried, hardly surprising given the way the wind was rocking the entire portacabin. This, coupled with the wailing of power cables and phone lines as the wind plucked at them so that they sounded like demented seagulls, was enough to unsettle anyone. “Besides,” Kate added, “I wouldn’t mind using the loo.”

I directed the beam of the torch down at her legs, quite without thinking, and was just in time to see her right knee bent, her foot off the floor. She was actually pee dancing.

“Are you very desperate?” I wanted to know.

“My abdomen’s as tight as a drum,” she informed me, doubtless choosing her words with care because she knew how much they Anadolu Yakası Esmer Escort would affect me.

I was about to offer to feel it when her phone rang. It surprised me, until I remembered that phones always operate on an external power supply. Kate took up the receiver and said, “Downland Water Authority – Southbrook Regional Office.”

She listened for a few seconds. The corners of her lips turn down, and I knew it was not good news. “Yes, sir,” she said. In the shadowy area on the periphery of the torch beam, I saw her right leg cross in front of her left as she spoke these words. She held out the handset to me and whispered, “Divisional Director Thompson.”

I rolled my eyes and took the proffered handset. Forcing my attention away from Kate’s crossed legs, I said, “Good evening, sir. I’m afraid the situation here is–.” That was a far as I got.

“I’ve just had Damien Withers on the phone,” Thompson cut in. “Have you any idea who that is, Denes?”

“Um, yes, he’s one of numerous wealthy land owner hereabouts.”

“Not to mention a wealthy yacht owner,” Thompson said. “He has just seen turds floating past his vessel. I’m sure you can imagine what he had to say about the efficaciousness of this authority.”

“I’m sorry about that sir, but the fact is we-“

“What the hell is going on down there?” Thompson demanded sharply.

As I described the state of play with the most remote holding tank, Thompson punctuated my sentences with irritated sighs. “It’s highly likely that the tank wall will rupture if the storm doesn’t ease off in the next few hours.”

“How the hell did you let the plant get into such an advanced state of deterioration? I’m going to have every yacht owner in the entire basin area chewing off my bollocks before morning!”

Oh yes, I thought, dozens of affluent yacht owners whose vessels would soon be floating in effluent. The poetry of it appealed to me. I had to concede that Thompson’s interpretation was correct. After whining to him and listening to platitudes for a while — a very little while — they would start calling their local M.P.s, and in no time at all the Authority’s budget would be under threat.

My own inclination would be to tell the arrogant bastards to stop crapping in their toilets, or failing that, donate some of their obscene wealth to cover the costs of renovating the local sewage works so that their copious output of crap could be properly sanitized. They, in turn, would then gripe about all the taxes they paid to support public amenities, unaware that these funds rarely trickled down to where they would actually do some good.

“This is exactly what I’ve been warning you about,” I said, abandoning my half-hearted attempt at brown-nosing. “Until you see fit to allocate me a realistic budget to carry out repairs and restore a sewage treatment plant that hasn’t seen significant modernized since Victoria was on the throne, accidents will happen.”

“Don’t adopt that supercilious tone with me, Denes,” Thompson cautioned. “I’ve enough on my plate without having to deal with a parochial uprising.

“I hope you didn’t accuse Mr. Withers of being parochial,”

“Your problem, Denes, is that you seem to imagine your needs are the only priority this Division has.”

“As of tonight, sir, I should think that were true.”

Thompson fell silent for a few moments. As the silence lengthened, I let my attention stray back to Kate. Even without the torch light, she was intermittently visible each time lightning flashed outside. It caught her in an odd jiggling motion as if she were tapping a heel on the carpet. I listened, and could hear a very faint tapping sound. She had to be close to bursting. I hoped she would stay put until I’d finished with Thompson, and not head off to the main building and its solitary, primitive lavatory.

At last, Thompson resumed. “Alright. You’d better come down to Head Office tomorrow. I’ll convene the appropriations committee and see if we can address the situation quickly enough to minimize the damage. “

Why was it that the shit had to always hit the fan before Thompson agreed to take action on anything, I wondered. He was certainly past his prime, and in my view the job required younger blood, someone with the enthusiasm to see things through. Even no, he was unlikely to allocate anything more than a token budget to cope with this crisis.

“Thank you, sir,” I said, trying to keep the skepticism from my voice. “Shall I be there first thing?”

“I’ll advise you of the meeting time when I know myself,” Thompson said before hanging up unceremoniously.

I smiled, pleased that the old fart had shit on his face, and that I’d managed to piss him off. If at all possible, I would make sure that some of that shit stuck.

I replaced the handset and looked at Kate. “Are you up to a trip to Head Office in the morning?”

She nodded with a distracted air, now walking on the spot. “Of course,” she followed Anadolu Yakası Eve Gelen Escort up in a voice shaking with strain. “What time are we starting out?”

“No commitment from the old man yet, but be ready to get going early. It’s a two-hour drive, more during the main commuter time, so let’s aim to start around seven.”

“Okay,” she agreed, then blew out a breath that ended with a soft grunt in her throat.

“You sound like you’re on the verge of wetting yourself,” I told her.

“That’s because I am,” she admitted. “Now, tea or coffee?”

“Tea,’ I said. “You have some too.”

“I can’t.”

“I insist. Thompson said that if you wanted to keep your job, you’d better do as you are told, and we can’t argue with the Divisional Director, now can we?”

Kate managed a wan smile which looked a little ghastly in the torchlight. Her features were tense, her brow furrowed with lines of concentration. “I suppose not,” she said, and began unscrewing the flask containing the tea.

When she had poured tea into our office mugs and topped them off with a little milk, she handed one to me and sipped at the other while keeping her free arm folded across her stomach. As I drank, I watched her right knee come up for a moment, then she straightened her leg and raised the left. Her muscles were not going to help her for much longer.

“Should I book us accommodation in Bexhill?” she asked, her voice even more tremulous and strained than before.

“Um, yes, that would be wise, just in case things really drag on.”

“Okay,” she said, and took another sip of tea. As she swallowed, her body spasmed. “Oh my God. I can’t wait any longer. I have to go to the loo.”

She set the mug down on her desk and turned towards the door. I followed suit and hurried after her. “Kate,” I said, reaching the door just ahead of her and blocking her way.

“Oh please, I’m absolutely bursting. If you delay me, I’ll wet myself.”

“But you’re already wet,’ I pointed out. “Soaked to the skin.”

She swallowed hard, blowing out a series of short, sharp breaths as if she were going into labour. “I suppose is doesn’t matter then.”

Struck by inspiration, I said, “Take off your coat.”

“What?”

Suiting my own actions to this suggestion, I peeled off my waterproof gear. The lightning illuminated Kate’s features for a moment, allowing me to see the frown lines on her brow. “Come on,” I urged.

She sighed, then sucked air back into her lungs through clenched teeth, shifting her legs with a jerk. She unzipped her plastic mac and awkwardly wriggled her arms from the sleeves. As soon as she was free of the coat, I threw open the door and promptly pulled her outside.

She gasped as the cold rain drenched her blouse in a matter of seconds. The lapels of her white shirt flapped as frenetically as bat’s wings in the breathtaking wind. We both blinked rapidly as rain streamed into our eyes. Grinning like an idiot, I grabbed hold of Kate, encircled her slim waist with both arms, and pulled her close. The kiss that followed banished the rain and wind from my consciousness. I was only aware of Kate’s mouth against mine; the smell of her skin directly beneath my nose; the feel of her breasts compressed against my chest; the pressure of my erection against her firm abdomen.

Her body relaxed for a few seconds, then suddenly tensed. She felt rather than heard the sound of straining in her throat, but I did not relax my hold on her. She fidgeted in my arms as the kiss continued, until finally her right foot came off the ground as she bent her knee, her inner thigh rubbing against the outer part of my leg. She moaned again, and this time I did hear it. Unable to resist the urge to squeeze her even harder, I reached down and grabbed her bottom with both hands, pulling her against me with so much force that my arms shook from the effort. Kate protested again, trying to pull away now, but I wouldn’t let her go. I just squeezed and squeezed, applying tremendous force to her swollen abdomen, my erection literally pulsing against her.

Lightning illuminated us again, allowing me to glimpse her hair plastered against her scalp, her right ear protruding through the tangled strands. Kate shuddered. Then pressed her cheek against my stubbled face, shouting to be heard above the cacophony of wind and rain. “Michael. You’re making me wet myself.”

She gasped in surprise as I quickly spun her through one hundred and eighty degrees and embraced her from behind. With her backside now pressing on my bulging penis, I waited for the warm sensation of her pee running down the fronts of my legs. I didn’t have to wait for long. Her pee felt hot, more so because of the contrast with the freezing rain. I felt Kate relax in my arms, but I still maintained a firm grip to prevent her moving away as she continued emptying her bladder. I momentarily caught the sharp odour of urine, but for the most part the driving wind swept away the acrid smell before Anadolu Yakası Evi Olan Escort it found its way into my nostrils.

So great was my excitement that it took some little time before I registered the fact that Kate had just used my Christian name for the first time.

“You called me Michael,” I said into her right ear.

“Would you rather I kept calling you Mr. Denes?” she countered.

I turned her back around to face me and planted another kiss squarely on her mouth. As our lips parted this time, I heard her say, “Apparently not.”

“Want to come back to my place for the night?” I asked.

To my surprise and disappointment, I felt her head shake. “No,” she said. “I need some sleep, and so do you if you’re going to do battle at HQ tomorrow.”

I had to concede the point. “Alright, I’ll pick you up at seven in the morning and have breakfast on the road. Okay with you?”

“Sounds fine,” she agreed as she pulled away and returned to her office to collect her coat. More lightning revealed her eyeing the garment ruefully. “Not really much point in putting it back on, is there?” she asked, the question clearly rhetorical.

“Not really,” I said.

“Goodnight then, Mr. Denes,” she said as she started towards her car.

“Er um.”

“Sorry. Michael.”

“Better. Goodnight, Kate.”

I stood and watched her rear lights fade into the restless veil of rain, then turned towards my own car. That was when I felt the ground shake and a deep roar, so loud that it momentarily banished the howl of the wind, burst across the night. I drew a sharp breath, confused for a moment before comprehension dawned. The holding tank wall had given way, opening a path for treated and untreated sewage alike to pour out into the habour.

So, it had finally happened. I knew that Thompson would try to save himself by trying to shift the responsibility for this disaster onto my shoulders, but I was damned well going to make sure the idiot paid for his own incompetence, whatever it took.

#

I arrived at Kate’s front door at six forty-five the following morning, having received word from Head Office that Thompson has scheduled the meeting for nine a.m. This news had only been passed on to me at 6:20 a.m., and I took it as a sign that Thompson was trying to put me at a disadvantage by making me arrive late, thereby flustering me. I was determined not to give him the pleasure. When I rang the doorbell, a part of me hoped I would catch Kate still in bed, and had that been the case, Thompson would most certainly have got his way. I was spared that ignominy when Kate opened the door, already dressed in a businesslike in a grey jacket and skirt suit, her hem brushing the tops of her knees. Her calves were elegantly lifted by three-inch heels; her hair had been drawn back and fastened in a short ponytail. She looked both stunning and slightly formidable.

“I had a call from one of the secretaries at Head Office to say the meeting had been set early, so I was expecting you,” she explained. “I gather the tank gave way.”

“Yes,” I confirmed.

“Is it really bad?”

“Pretty bad. I couldn’t see a lot last night, and I really haven’t had time this morning to go down there for a more thorough inspection. I’ve been spending time putting together arguments to make sure my career doesn’t come to an ignominious end at Thompson’s hand.”

“Can he really do that, when he’s ultimately responsible for sanctioning the funds to upkeep these facilities?” Kate asked, obviously concerned. She had, after all, only just started in her new job, and obviously didn’t want it to come to such a quick and ignominious end.

“Oh yes, but don’t worry. I’m not going to let him wriggle out of this one without a good fight. The first order of business is to be there on time.”

Kate quickly glanced at her watch, and nodded. Her heels made a rapid succession of clicks along the paving stones as she marched briskly along the garden path, her suitcase, obvious heavy, banging against her leg.

“Can I give you a hand with that?” I offered.

“No need. Just open the boot.”

I released the lock and watched as Kate heaved her case up over the rim of the opening, then slide it in next to mine. She slammed the door shut and slide onto the front passenger seat. I watched as the hem of her skirt rode up some four or five inches during this maneuvre. Kate caught me looking and smirked. “Shall we get going?” she prompted, her amusement apparent in her vocal undertones.

“You look great, if rather formal,” I told her as I slid in beside her.

“I presume that was meant to be a compliment?”

“You presume correctly, Miss Bond. You’re a ray of sunshine on such a grey, washed-out morning.”

She regarded me, frowning faintly. “Have you been drinking?” she asked.

“More to the point, have you?” I countered.

“Me?”

“Yes. We have a long journey before us, and I’m hoping that you might feel the urge to use a loo before we reach our destination. In fact, as your boss, I’m instructing you the purchase a coffee at the first opportunity.”

“Yes, sir,” she agreed with a vague salute. “You’re surprisingly full of the joys of spring this morning, considering where we’re going, and why. I presume that Mr. Thompson’s plans to drop you in it are not having the desired effect?”

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