"Folgen," says the forty plus busboy before he shakes his head and corrects himself, "Follow."
~Go with him~ the Thong's mysterious voice echoes in Charlotte's head.
Charlotte, her cheeks burning hot with embarrassment, pauses for breath. Has some passerby seen her snogging in the alleyway? She was so much younger than the German. What would they think? They'd assume she was some cheap whore. She was certain she might die of embarrassment.
When the German simply walked towards an old, battered door in the side of the alley to reveal the entrance way to a small house behind the cafe Charlotte was relieved.
Anything to escape the alleyway and the embarrassment of being in public - Charlotte followed the random stranger into his apartment.
"Honig, bin ich gekommen, früh nach Hause," the German says as he shuts the door.
"Sorry, I don't speak that much German..." Charlotte apologized uneasily. Still glad to be off the street.
"No," comes the reply, "I was talking to my wife. Not you."
Wife? For another brief moment Charlotte was certain death by embarrassment would be her fate after all - the man was married! Just as the evil thong had wanted. What if the poor woman had seen her kiss?
With her heat beating rapidly in her chest, Charlotte looked towards the kitchen area as a blonde woman walked into view.
"Look what you have her," said the wife in perfect English. She was pretty and a few years younger than the busboy. She was dressed in a simple skirt, a plain top and was still wearing bright yellow rubber gloves covered in foamy bubbles from the washing up in the kitchen sink.
"A good one, I think," replies the husband.
"Yes, I think so," the pretty blonde German woman flashes Charlotte a smile before adding, "Take her to the basement and strap her to the wrack."
Wait? What? Charlotte struggled to keep up. What was going on?
~Oh goodie...~ the Thong sounded smug. ~I knew my instinct on this guy was right!~ |