SEXPLOSIONS:
POWER SURGE BOOK 1
by Neneh Gordon
Smashwords Edition
Copyright 2012 Neneh Gordon
Discover other titles by Neneh Gordon at Smashwords.com
Smashwords Edition, License Notes
This ebook is licensed for your personal enjoyment only. This ebook may not be re-sold or given away to other people. If you would like to share this book with another person, please purchase an additional copy for each recipient. If you’re reading this book and did not purchase it, or it was not purchased for your use only, then please return to Smashwords.com and purchase your own copy. Thank you for respecting the hard work of this author.
This book is a work of fiction and any resemblance to persons, living or dead, or places, events or locales is purely coincidental. The characters are productions of the author’s imagination and used fictitiously.
Adult Reading Material – not intended for those under the age of 18.
Contents
Chapter One
“If you want to keep that hand, you’ll keep it to yourself.” Audrey let go of the drunkard’s wrist and threw his burger and chips down on the table in front of him. Whenever they left the club without a woman, they decided the waitresses at the Blue Moon must be dying to jump into bed with them. Well, maybe she would have been if she’d had a comparable amount of alcohol. Unfortunately for him, she was stone-cold sober.
“Take it easy, Hep,” George told her through the kitchen hatch. He was the only one who ever called her that. They might share a first name, but she didn’t recall Audrey Hepburn ever working in an English late-night cafe. Or having short purple hair. George’s attempt at humour.
“George, I didn’t inflict any pain, so leave me alone.” She took two plates of chips from him and delivered them to table five.
“Hey Aud, I thought he was your type.” Mary called across the cafe.
“And what’s my type?”
“Pretty and stupid.”
Actually, that was a reasonable assessment. “I don’t always go for airheads.”
“Really?”
“Really. I’m not that predictable.”
“So that wasn’t you pulling all those educationally challenged young men when we went out?” Mary cleared table two and sprayed it with disinfectant.
“Well, yes. But they’re the only guys I ever meet. It’s not because I have a type.”
“Bollocks,” George shouted from the kitchen and half of the patrons turned to snigger.
“What about him, then?” Mary nudged her and nodded towards the man in the anorak who had just come out of the toilets.
Seriously? He looked like he lived with his mother and could recite whole episodes of Monty Python. “The guy in the Stargate t-shirt?”
“Why not? If you haven’t got a type...”
He wasn’t all that bad. Once you got past the boring, flat brown hair and the bright blue jeans. His green eyes were quite nice. And he was pretty big - he had a broad, manly chest under that vile t-shirt.
“But of course, there’s probably some perfectly valid reason why you couldn’t give him a chance.” Mary sniggered and went back behind the counter.
She was winding her up on purpose. Mary knew full well that she couldn’t bear to lose an argument. Seeing the jaws of the trap wasn’t enough to stop her walking inside it though.
“Okay Mary. This is for you.” She untied her apron, thrust it into Mary’s hands and strode over to the geeky customer. “Excuse me.” She tapped him on the shoulder and he flinched, drawing in a sharp breath before he turned to face her.
His eyes went wide and he looked around for a moment, then he seemed to accept she was talking to him. “Er, yes?”
Here went nothing. She reached up, took his face in her hands and kissed him right on the lips. The diners broke out in whoops and applause and she closed her eyes. She hadn’t expected it from the look of him, but he was good at this. His hands went to her waist, pulling her in closer as he returned the kiss, firmly but gently. Soft lips. He smelt like fresh air and soap. Before she knew what happened, he wasn’t kissing her any more and she was standing in the middle of the cafe with her eyes closed and her lips pursed. She nearly overbalanced and opened her eyes as she stumbled forwards. That wasn’t part of the plan. Running a hand through her close-cropped hair, she tried to recover some composure. “My friend here said she’d cover the end of my shift if you want to come for a drink.”
He looked at her with those deep green eyes and she felt like a tongue-tied fourteen year-old again. Jesus. What was wrong with her? He looked over at Mary, who gave him a finger wave. “Maybe another time.” He started to step around her. This couldn’t be happening. Turned down by a nerd. In front of everyone.
“Just one drink.” Was he going to make her beg?
“I...” Everyone was watching them now. The whole place was silent, waiting for the entertainment to come to a climax. He looked around them and cringed. “One drink.”
She stuck her tongue out at Mary. One nil to Audrey. “Come on.” She took his hand. “I know a great little place just down the road.” Their audience gave them a few more claps to send them on their way.
‘Look, I know you’re doing this for a bet, so I’ll walk with you for a while and you can tell them whatever you like.” He trudged along beside her in the yellow lamplight, sneaking looks at her like he suspected her of running over his kitten.
“I’m Audrey.” She stopped and held out her hand.
He sighed and stopped walking, but didn’t shake her hand. “You shouldn’t go around messing with people like that.” He walked on.
“You didn’t seem to mind so much back inside.” She narrowed her eyes at his back as he walked away and he turned around.
“I’m human. What do you expect me to do when a gorgeous girl throws herself at me?”
Gorgeous. He said she was gorgeous. “Er... It... It wasn’t a bet.”
He raised his eyebrows. “I know what I look like. Girls like you aren’t interested in men like me.”
The worst thing was, he was right. If he’d sat next to her at a bar, she probably would have moved seats before he worked up the courage to say hello. “Mary - the other waitress - she kept saying that I only go out with bimbos and then you came out and I thought you looked like a nice guy—”
“So you jumped me to prove a point.” He took a couple of steps closer.
“That sounds cold.” His silence got her guilt reflex going again.
“Forget it.” He turned to leave, but she caught up with him.
“Wait.”
He pulled his sleeve out of her grasp. “What do you want?”
“Can we start again?” He was making her feel like a real bitch. “I’m sorry if I upset you.”
“I’m not upset.”
“What about that drink?”
He glared at her. “I’m going home.”
“Come for a drink.”
“No.”
Audrey Sinclair didn’t take no for an answer. “Come for a drink.”
“You’re only asking because you feel sorry for me.”
He was infuriating. That was the thing with geeks - too much thinking. Well, she knew how to put a stop to that. She closed the distance between them, pulled on his lapels, stood on her tiptoes and laid another kiss on him. Electricity crackled between them, leaving her lips tingling. It was hard to admit, but she’d been wanting to do that ever since they left the cafe. His breathing was loud in her ears, almost as fast as her own. He might have been protesting before, but now he was wrapping himself around her and doing things with his tongue that made her reel. Lucky he was there to hold her up. She broke away before she hyperventilated herself unconscious.
It took a while for her to gather the wits she needed for speech and she rested with her hands on his chest. What a sin to hide that big, hard body under the eyesore that he mistakenly called clothes. “I don’t do that out of pity,” she whispered as he held her close. “Are you coming for that drink now?”
Chapter Two
Less than an hour earlier, a streak of silver zipped through the night sky above the venue for the handover. Three million in cash to be exchanged for a teenage girl at two a.m. on a Sunday morning. The money was all there, all real and ready to go. Anything less, and Sarah Henderson wouldn’t live to be reunited with her family.
Power Surge reduced the static charge he used to keep himself aloft and landed two streets away from the drop point and crept closer on foot. When he got within range, he’d send out his trademark Blast of Confusion to take the kidnappers out of the picture. Then he’d be able to grab the ransom and the girl without any interference.
As he slipped through the streets, he drew stares from the handful of people who were out at that hour. When it came to choosing a colour for your superhero costume, you had to balance memorability with practicality. Black was best for sneaking about, but silver body armour with a white lightning bolt on the chest and the obligatory silver face-mask meant people always knew who you were. If they didn’t assume you were in fancy dress.
He rounded the corner and came within sight of the car park where the swap would go down. Stepping back into the shadows, he picked out the major players. The kidnappers” black jeep was close to the road, its inhabitants hidden by tinted windows. The police officer with the loot could be seen in the driver’s seat of an unmarked car a few yards further away, a mobile phone at his ear. Power Surge hung back, biding his time and the policeman stepped out of the car. He closed the door behind him and a clunk echoed across the still night.
The man walked until he was halfway between the two cars, then stopped and placed the black sports bag he was carrying at his feet. At that signal, the driver’s door of the jeep opened and a tall, thin man in a balaclava got out. He pointed a gun at the money man and walked around the car to the passenger side, never shifting his aim. Power Surge couldn’t see that side of the car from where he was, but he didn’t need to. Mr Skinny came back in view, pushing a girl ahead of himself.
Mr Skinny waved the gun at the policeman, signalling him to move away. He did as he was told. The kidnapper walked forward, holding the girl by the arm, keeping her out in front. Power Surge stepped out into the street and lifted his hand, focusing his attention on the man with the gun. Closing his eyes to concentrate, he gathered delicate strands of electrical energy from every part of his body, sending them into his outstretched hand. The coursing power made his skin tingle with warmth and he reined it in. Too much juice would lobotomise Mr Skinny. Maybe the guy deserved it, but that wasn’t the object of tonight’s operation. Better wait until the girl was out of the way. She was too close for him to use his Blast safely.
A couple more steps and Skinny reached for the bag. He opened it, inspected the contents and shoved Sarah in the direction of the police. Power Surge pointed his finger at the kidnapper and forced the energy he’d collected across the air in a vein of white lightning. Light cracked across the car park, forking into branches before it reached its target. A web of electricity surrounded Mr Skinny’s head and he stiffened, standing tall and rigid for a moment before he fell to his knees. Tongues of white energy licked out towards Sarah and she fell backwards to sit on the tarmac. As her captor crawled on his hands and knees, Power Surge built up enough static to lift himself off the ground and accelerate towards them.
The lightning strike had left Sarah dazed. She looked up at him through a fog of confusion. Reaching for her hand, he pulled her to her feet, then grabbed the bag and threw it to the waiting policeman. Everything according to plan. He put his arm around her and shepherded Sarah to the safety of the police car.
Mr Skinny was still on the floor, crawling in circles. No threat to anyone. Then the rear door of the jeep opened and everything went into slow motion. Power Surge shoved the girl behind him and threw up his hands to generate a protective shield, but he was too slow. Another man in black stepped out and pointed a gun. A deafening crack rang out. A bullet clipped the nascent energy shield and hit Power Surge on the shoulder, spinning him on his feet. After a second of numbness, the pain sliced into him. He fought through it and ran with Sarah to the car.
Another bullet whistled by and he strengthened the shield behind him. “Get her inside,” he shouted, “I’ll draw his fire.” He raised his hands in front of him and gasped as the movement tugged at the wound that was now stuck to his sleeve with rapidly drying blood. Sucking in air through gritted teeth, he forced himself to put one foot in front of the other.
More bullets came, but he was ready for them now. The sound of the car reversing and driving off behind him was music to his ears. Then came another welcome sound - the scramble to reload an empty gun. Power Surge dropped the shield and gathered another Blast of Confusion. Before kidnapper number two raised his gun again, Power Surge gave him both fingers full in the face. He dropped his weapon and fell like the puppeteer had cut his strings.
Not wanting to get caught out for a second time, Power Surge raised his shield and walked around the car. No more nasty surprises. A nudge with his foot reassured him that the gun-wielding bad guy wasn’t going to cause him any more trouble. Time to call reinforcements.
“VANN, report,” he spoke into the miniature PDA on his wrist, wincing at the motion that required.
“Yes, Power Surge?”
“Can you get more police down to the rendezvous? I’ve got two kidnappers here.” Skinny was still on his hands and knees. “One of them shot me. Can you send me the nearest stash location?”
‘Sending now. Do you require medical assistance?”
“I’m okay for now.” He felt the back of his shoulder and brought back bloody fingers. Through and through. Lucky.
“The police are on their way.”
“Thanks VANN. See you later.” His PDA beeped and he brought up the map VANN had emailed. He had changes of clothes and basic first aid kits stashed all over the city for occasions just like tonight. There were too many stashes for him to remember where they all were, which was where VANN - Voice-Activated Neural Network – came in. Something like Bruce Wayne’s Alfred, but on a hard drive.
Looked like the closest stash was round the back of a cafe a few minutes away. Power Surge fired up the static and headed for the Blue Moon Cafe.
Chapter Three
Jimmy Cain turned off his modified CB radio and took another sip of lager. Power Surge had been shot. The police had definitely said ‘gunshot wound’. He took a longer drink. He must be okay, he’d left the scene on his own, but worry gnawed at Jimmy’s insides. None of this would make the news for hours. He’d already stayed up late. Now he wouldn’t be able to sleep. Not without knowing how badly hurt his hero was.
He put the can to his lips, but there was nothing left. Drinking on a week night felt vaguely sinful, but he needed it to take the edge of his nerves. One is plenty. That’s what Mum had always said. It wouldn’t hurt if he didn’t have too much. He’d drunk two cans before now, and still been fine to go into work at the barbershop. Mr Matthews hadn’t even noticed.
He stood up to throw his rubbish in the recycling, then changed his mind. The empty can would be good practice. He placed it in the middle of the table.
He’d moved beyond simply crushing thin aluminium a while ago. Cans were good for trying more fiddly work though. He’d have another go at a flower. A lily this time. When he got enough together, he could put them on his parents” grave.
The thought opened a chink in the wall he’d built to keep the grief out. Nearly a year had passed and he still couldn’t function without shutting it out. He had to lock it away and keep it down deep inside where it could rage without burning him alive. Working with metal helped. It forced him to concentrate so hard there was no room to think about anything else.
His mind reached out for the aluminium, feeling the tiny irregularities on the surface of the cylinder. Picturing the lattice of molecules, he went deeper and focused on breaking the bonds that held some of them together. The can slumped a little, buckling in the middle and squinted as it melted under his will. He screwed up his eyes, visualising the way he wanted the petals to fall. Slowly, the metal opened up. Liquefying and separating into the form he’d chosen.
Strips fell away from the centre of the can, thickening in the middle and forming pointed tips. Now for the stamen. He pointed a finger at the seething metal and drew its centre upwards into a thin strand. Waving his finger, he arranged the petals, bending them back at different angles. Not bad. He reached for his metal lily and turned it over in his hands.
One day, he’d graduate from party tricks to saving people. Then he’d be someone important. Someone Mum and Dad would be proud of. Someone just like Power Surge.
***
Audrey rushed around the flat, clearing away beer bottles and pizza boxes while her guest stood by the door. Kate would flip if she saw the place in this state. “Sorry about the mess. I think my flatmate had a few people over.” Well, one very messy person called Audrey, but he didn’t have to know that.
He came further inside. “That’s okay.” His face didn’t quite match the sentiment, but he was trying.
She scooped up an armful of letters and magazines from the sofa. “Come and sit down.”
There. The lounge looked habitable again. It would be so much easier if she did this stuff as she went along. She really didn’t mean to make such a mess. It just sprang up behind her wherever she went.
‘Let me take your coat.” He was sitting on the sofa, still wearing his raincoat like it was a suit of armour. “God, I don’t even know your name.”
“Jeff.” He stood up again and handed her the coat with a look of regret. “Jeff Kendall.”
“Well, I’m Audrey Sinclair.” She put his coat away in the hall and went to look in the fridge. “We’ve got lager, milk or apple juice,” she called from the kitchen, “Or tea or coffee, if you want something hot.”
Perched on the edge of the sofa, he made the living room look tiny. “Lager please.” Good choice. It might loosen him up a bit.
She opened a couple of bottles and brought him one. “Cheers.” As she sat next to him, he shuffled up the sofa. Talk about running hot and cold. She clinked the neck of her bottle against his and he summoned a nervous smile before taking a gulp of lager.
“Nice flat.”
“Thanks.” Probably best not to mention the fact she was only sofa-surfing. She took a drink herself and used his lack of eye contact to look him over. Good thick head of hair that could do with a decent cut and some product. High cheekbones, strong nose. You know what they say about a man with a big nose. Not that it was beaky or anything. She couldn’t see his eyes - he still wasn’t looking at her - but she remembered them. Bright and green and full of secrets. He was a giant mystery that she desperately wanted to get to the bottom of.
If you dressed him up a bit, he wouldn’t be a million miles away from the guys she usually went for. The difference was, he had depths that they wouldn’t understand, never mind match. If she could just get him to open up a bit. “So. What would you usually be doing at this time on a Saturday night?” Was that a hint of amusement that lit his eyes?
“Nothing very exciting. Tinkering with my computer probably.”
“Not sleeping then?”
“I don’t sleep very well.” He sat further back, took another swig.
“Are you into computers?” He certainly looked the part.
“You could say that.”
At least he was looking at her now. The conversation wasn’t exactly flowing though. “Do you work with them, or...?”
“Yeah.” He nodded.
She gave up and drank some lager. This was too much like hard work. Why had he come round if he was so uninterested?
“I’m sorry I’m not very good at small talk.” He picked at the label on his bottle. Kate always said that was a sign of sexual frustration.
“We don’t have to talk.” She leaned over him to put her bottle on the table at the end of the sofa, then did the same with his.
“What else could we possibly do?” One side of his mouth lifted in a smirk that was completely at odds with the Jeff she’d seen so far. She only had time to raise her eyebrows before he pulled her down on top of him and drew her lips down over his. Her eyes fluttered closed and she shivered as he ran his fingers down the back of her t-shirt, triggering a ripple of static that made her clench her toes.
There he went with that tongue again, teasing her, nipping at her bottom lip with his teeth, moving to suck at the skin at her throat. His fingers found the sweet spot at the base of her spine and she ground her hips against him. A wave of tingles washed over her whole body, leaving her wrapped in a deep warm glow. And in the middle of it was Jeff. Brushing his lips against her, reaching under her t-shirt to stroke her skin until she moaned into his neck. She never did that.
One of his hands roamed to the gap between their bodies and he scraped his thumb over her lace-covered nipple. Sensation radiated out from his touch. She kneeled over him, one leg on each side as he lay beneath her on the sofa. Too much clothing between them. She peeled off her t-shirt and dropped it on the floor. Hell, off with the skirt too. She got up and stepped out of the black mini skirt she always wore for work. He leaned up on his elbows, looking her over. Couldn’t he take a hint? There was no point in just one of them getting naked. If he wouldn’t do the honours, she’d just have to rip his clothes off for him.
She sat beside him and tugged his Stargate t-shirt up, hoping he’d get the message. He didn’t move, just met her eye with a look that made her throb. Then she looked down and saw how ripped he was. A computer nerd with a six pack. She bent over him and planted a kiss in the tuft of hair that grew beneath his navel. He smelt musky there. Something else to send her dizzy. Moving up his body with a trail of kisses, she saw he’d closed his eyes and thrown his head back against the cushions. She wasn’t the only one having fun.
His t-shirt was in the way. She couldn’t get any further up his chest and she knew there must be an amazing pair of pecs under there. A wicked smile curled at the corners of her mouth. He only had himself to blame. She grabbed the front of his shirt in both hands and pulled until she heard it give. A big tear opened up and she worked it all the way up to his collar. That bit was tougher - she couldn’t get it to part.
Jeff laughed at her and ripped it himself. “That was my favourite t-shirt.” He flashed a smile to match hers and took off the remaining scraps of cotton.
“What happened to your shoulder?” A square white dressing was taped to the skin just below his collarbone.
“Accident.”
Looked nasty. Recent too. She’d been right about the pecs. Her hands were drawn to the muscles of his smooth chest and she didn’t try to resist. He flexed under her fingers. Jesus. He could probably bench press her.
“Your turn.” He leaned back on the sofa again.
She unhooked her bra, drew it off in one movement and let it fall to the floor. He kept his eyes on hers and she had a moment of nerves. She’d never done this with a man like Jeff before. Screw the nerves. She shimmied out of her panties and looked him in the eye.
Jeff got up, took her hand and kissed it. Then he scooped her off her feet and into his arms. “Which one’s your room?”
There was only one bedroom. She’d have to change the sheets before Kate came home. Shit, she’d have to usher him out before Kate got home. “Turn around. The door on the right.”
He kissed her long enough to set her heart racing again and carried her into the bedroom. “Teddy bears?”
She’d forgotten about Kate’s collection. There were two dozen of the bloody things arranged on the bed. He put her down and she swept them onto the carpet. “You didn’t see those.”
When she turned around, he was right there, then they were kissing and he was moving onto the bed with her. His jeans hit the floor, quickly followed by his pants and then there was just the feel of his skin and the taste of his lips. She closed her eyes and gave in to the jumble of sensation, crying out at the sweet torment he wrought on her nerve endings. He was behind her, drawing patterns on her back with the tips of his fingers, kissing the back of her neck, the slope of her shoulder. Reaching around to take her breasts in his big hands. The stiff warmth of his erection bumped at the base of her spine, leaving wet kisses behind.
He guided her forward over the bed, bending her over and spreading her legs with his knee. Could he see how wet she was? Her slit must have been coated creamy-white by now. The thought of his eyes on her, looking between her legs as she lay there, made her even hornier.
Pausing for a moment, he ran his hands over her buttocks, drawing out the inevitable. Then he stuck his thumb in her pussy and she jerked forwards, breasts swinging. He wiggled his way back out. There was the rustle of a condom wrapper, then he was inside her, pushing into her with the same urgency that made her reach around to cling to him and angle her hips to meet his rhythm.
He built up speed and she clung to the edge of the mattress. His grunts of effort grew louder as she gasped and shuddered. His hand found hers, their fingers interlacing as she raced to her climax. It came in a cold flash of intensity that raised all the hairs on her body. Two more thrusts took him to his own peak and he gave a wordless shout, releasing all the tension they had built together. They lay there for a while, the early morning air cooling the sweat that lay on their skin. After a time, they slept.
Chapter Four
The next morning, Audrey jerked awake, her heart lurching as she struggled to remember what day it was. Sunday. Kate. Shit.
She jumped out of bed and scrambled her undies back on. What time was it? Jeff. Last night flooded back, but he wasn’t there. In the shower? It didn’t matter. She had to get the flat straight before Kate came home. Bed first. Change the bedclothes and remove the evidence. Kate wouldn’t be pleased to know some strange man had been rolling around in her sheets. Reaching for a pillow, she spotted a note on the bedside table.
Sorry I had to leave. I would have asked for your number if I’d had the chance. Here’s mine instead
She hadn’t thought about the possibility of seeing him again. Probably not a good idea. Not with her track record. Plus she’d have to come clean about being semi-homeless. Less embarrassing to leave it as a one-night-stand. She stripped the cover off the duvet and the sheet off the mattress. He wanted to see her again. At least she could take a nice ego boost away from last night.
It took less than ten minutes to change the sheets and put the dirty ones in to wash. And nearly as long again to arrange Kate’s assorted bears, mice and hedgehogs on the bed. Audrey jumped in the shower and closed her eyes under the hot needles of water. She could still feel his hands on her back. It would have been nice to have one more night with him. Take things more slowly. Maybe she should give him a call. Make it clear it would be strictly a two-night thing. The way he dressed, it wasn’t as if he’d be beating women off with a stick. But he must have had his fair share of girls to be that good in bed. He didn’t make any sense. She should stay clear of him. God, what was wrong with her? She was never this indecisive.
***
“Good morning, Jeff.” VANN turned on the lights as soon as Jeff let himself in.
“Good morning VANN.” He threw his keys on the table in the hall and went to the control room at the back of the house. The lights flicked on ahead of him as he went. VANN had a terminal, or at least a control panel in every room. He was wired into every electronic part of the house. Jeff had built him to be heuristic - he was a learning computer and he knew Jeff better than anybody. Maybe that wasn’t such an impressive feat considering how little face-to-face time Jeff got with actual human beings.
The doors to VANN’s housing slid open as Jeff sat at the console. The entire wall was taken up with screens showing CCTV feeds, news channels or files from recent Power Surge cases that needed attention.
“Anything urgent I should know about?”
“No. I would recommend you go to bed. I’ll wake you if I pick up anything that warrants your involvement.”
“Okay.” He pulled out the keyboard and started to type up a report on last night’s kidnapping. It would be quicker to do it to camera - VANN was perfectly capable of transcribing whatever he recorded - but there was something meditative about the act of tapping away at the keys. Typing it all out helped to get events straight in his head. Once he’d finished, he could stop thinking about it and get some proper rest. Bed would have been more enticing if there was a petite girl with purple hair waiting there for him.
“VANN, do I have time for a girlfriend?”
“How much time does a girlfriend require?”
“I don’t know. Depends on the girlfriend, I suppose.”
“Would you like me to research the phenomenon?”
Dating advice from a computer. “No. That’s okay.”
‘Taking on further interests or responsibilities would call for a cut in your working hours, or the hours you spend as Power Surge.”
Of course it would. He shouldn’t have said anything. Just thinking out loud really. It’s not like Audrey would call him anyway. She was way out of his league. Jeff Kendall had to stay under the radar for Power Surge’s sake, so he’d never stand a chance with a beauty like that. At least he’d had one night with her. A mind-blowing night with a fiery pixie who had the most amazing deep brown eyes. He could picture her now, curled up under the duvet as he left her to sleep. Well, she’d given him some steamy memories to look back on when he started to feel sorry for himself. He couldn’t ask for much more than that.
***
Kate had come home exhausted and gone to bed, so Audrey felt like she still had the flat to herself. She tried to doze on the sofa, but thoughts of last night kept her awake. Hot chocolate. Her mum always swore by it when she couldn’t sleep.
Heating milk in a pan was too much like hard work and would only generate washing up. She poured some milk into a mug and put it into the microwave. The familiar hum started up when she turned the dial, but it fizzled off with an electrical crackle. Great. She couldn’t afford to pay to have that repaired. Maybe it was just playing up. Switching it on and off at the socket worked, but only for a couple of seconds - the damn thing shorted itself out again and refused to come back on.
Saucepan it was then. She poured the milk from the mug to the pan and put it on the gas hob. Waiting for milk to boil was one of those tedious tasks that still require your full attention. She reached for the radio. Before she touched the dial, the thing roared into life, blasting out George Michael. Shit. Kate would not be happy if Audrey woke her up. She got hold of the radio and twisted the volume down to zero. Nothing happened. The off button didn’t work, retuning had no effect. A sick, adrenalin panic built in her chest. Pissing Kate off was the last thing she wanted to do. She might just find herself looking for another sofa to sleep on. Turning it off at the plug finally did the trick.
She paused for a moment, waiting for Kate to come out and ask her what the hell she was doing. It didn’t happen. Something was going right that morning. The milk came to the boil and she made her hot chocolate, but her nerves were on edge now. Maybe some trashy TV would relax her. A big gulp of chocolate gave her a much-needed sugar rush. Flopping onto the sofa, she aimed the remote, turned on the set and got the snowy fuzz of an untuned channel. Brilliant. She was going to break everything in the flat at this rate.
“What’s your bloody problem? Stupid box. All I want is a cheesy film.” The static shut off and was replaced by Rutger Hauer doing his wild-eyed thing. Strange. “I was thinking more TV movie though.” The picture jumped to another channel with a vaguely familiar woman crying onto her friend’s shoulder. Wait a minute. She hadn’t pressed any buttons. Had she just...?
“Rutger Hauer.” The TV went back to the first film. “TV movie.” The picture flicked back again, the woman was vowing never to trust her husband again. If she hadn’t been holding the remote herself, she’d have thought it was Kate playing a joke on her. Actually, she could have got one of those universal remotes. She got up and crept to Kate’s room. If it was a trick, she’d be waiting there stifling giggles. Audrey turned the handle and slowly opened the door. It was quiet and dark in there. When her eyes got used to the gloom, she could make out Kate lying under the covers.
“Kate?” she whispered. There was no reply. Audrey turned back to the television. “Mute.” The sound went and an icy trickle went down her spine. She pulled Kate’s door closed and went back into the living room. “Off.” The picture winked out, leaving the little red standby light staring at her from the bottom of the set. Oh my god.
This couldn’t be real. She must have fallen asleep on the sofa after all. “On.” The picture and the sound came back. TV movie woman was pointing a gun at a man with giant black eyebrows. She’d done that. She’d told the television to come on and it had. How? Could she control the radio too? She went to the kitchen and switched the power back on, bracing herself for another assault on her hearing. This time, the sound came on at its normal level. Perhaps this was all just a weird coincidence. That made more sense than her having magical powers over electrical appliances. “Louder.” The volume of the newsreader’s voice went up a couple of notches. “Music.” The station changed to one of those eighties hair rock numbers. Just because she’d told it to. She was really doing this.
She had to think this through. Work out what had happened. What she needed was a long walk. Exercise always helped her to think. She grabbed her things and went out of the front door. As she ran down the stairs to the street door, she tripped on a lower step. Her panic barely had time to get going before a warm tingling flushed through her and settled in her hands as they instinctively went out to control her landing. Impact with the floor never came. When she looked down, there was a heat haze between her hands and the ground, holding her up. What the...? The haze evaporated and she fell to the floor in the hall.