I quickly read the WhatsApp message as I returned to the hotel. A Spanish lady. Did she speak English? Could she, at least, hold a semblance of conversation with me and I her. It couldn’t hurt to look after the girl in any case. We’re supposed to be a country that helps and welcomes people and it must be awful for a young girl to be alone in a strange country, the reality of the work she had chosen to do not withstanding. Whether we connected or not, it didn’t take much to share a meal with the girl.
I went to my room and Googled the Belfast Escort site. After a brief search I found her profile. I was shocked at her pictures on the site. She was younger than Sorcha at twenty four years of age and she was quite beautiful with that golden brown skin tone with which Spaniards are blessed, dark eyes and a smile that would start a war. Despite my sincere intentions, I didn’t think it would take a lot for her to persuade me, but she’d have to make all of the running. I replied on WhatsApp
“Hola Sophia,
Thank you for your message, the girls asked me to watch out for a communication from you. I’d be delighted to meet this evening and while away a couple of hours while you wait for your friend to arrive.
“If you wish, I can offer you dinner and a few drinks at my hotel, The Europa. You’ll find me in the restaurant bar from 4:30 onwards, just ask anyone if they know Billy or text me when you arrive.
I look forward to meeting you then,
Muchos gracias,
Billy Byrne.”
I hit send and away it went. I received an almost instant reply in the form of an eyelash emoji. It made me chuckle. It was still only noon so I lay down for a while and drifted off into a fitful nap. I put it down to the sudden upsurge in physical activity over the past couple of days. I felt an erection coming on, another, happily frequent, recent occurrence. I felt a little groggy as the clock turned inexorably towards 4:00 so I took a shower, which revived me somewhat. I shook out my clothes and re-dressed, then took the lift to the hotel lobby, intending to find a nice soft corner for myself in the bar.
I exited the lift and was walking across the lobby when I noticed Packie, the concierge, talking to a young lady, looking up and pointing over at me. He waved me over whilst gently encouraging the young lady in my direction. I walked over to her.
“Sophia?” I asked her.
“Yes, hello Billie Eyelash,” she said with a huge laugh.
“I’m gonna kill that Irish Rose,” I said with a laugh, as I joined her in the joke.
We must have looked like two idiots, as we laughed our heads off in the lobby of the Europa Hotel.
We hugged each other and she took my arm as I led her into the restaurant bar. She spoke a thousand words a minute and, I was delighted to find, I found her easy enough to understand. She had no pretentions and spoke it with a continental cadence. It was perfectly charming.
She had wide brown eyes which evoked a smile, a cute button nose and beautiful sensuous lips, which accommodated bright white teeth and a rose tipped tongue that appeared sporadically as she enunciated some of the words that her heritage had imbued in her. Her hair, however, was her crowning glory. Long dark hair which shone as it caught the light from the fixtures in the bar as she relayed her conversation with the two girls animatedly. I could tell from her entire demeanour that she was excited and happy to have met me, not least to ward off the lack of companionship in a strange city, if nothing else.
Eventually, she relaxed and sat back in her seat with a satisfied smile.
“Would you like a drink, Sophia?” I asked.
“Just some water, por favor, Billie.”
“Have you been working today?”
“Yes, I had my last call at 12:00, then had to leave my apartment to go to my new one,” she explained quickly.
“You had to move?”
“Yes, my friend comes tomorrow to the airport,” she said, “she will need a place, too, so we share.”
“I see,” I said, “is she an escort too?”
“Yes, she is older.”
“How do you work together if you both have appointments at the same time?”
“We make them thirty minutes different,” she said reasonably, as though it was the most natural thing in the world.
“You must think I’m a fool “ I laughed.
“No, no,” she said forcefully, “Rose and Fantasy say you are good man, Billy.”
“You’re 24?”
“No, I’m 28, same as Rose,” she said in a low voice, “men prefer younger, they never know.”
I laughed at the conspiratorial look she pasted on her beautiful face and she smiled happily.
Our drinks and menus arrived and she quickly quaffed hers. I asked the waiter to bring a jug of water.
“Sorry, Billy,” she said, “the climate here makes me dry.”
“That’s perfectly natural, Sophia. Is that your real name, by the way?”
“No, my real name is Isabella, from my mother.”
“I love that name, we nearly called our little girl Isabella. Like Isabella Rossellini.”
“You can call me Isabella, Billy.”
We ordered some food, Gambas in a garlic butter for her and a club sandwich for me.
“Do you like garlic, Billy?”
“Yes, I quite like it, Isabella, why?”
“It might be on my breath later.”
“I ,,,,, don’t understand.”
“When we fuck?”
“Oh, yes, ehm, I,” I stammered, as she began to laugh.
“Fantasy said you would do that if I said fuck.”
“That little cow,” I said.
“El pequeña vaca,” she said and laughed.
“Sorry?”
“Español. The little cow.”
“Of course,” I said feeling stupider by the minute.
I needed to up my game, these girls were miles ahead of me. Although, in many ways, Sorcha and Melody were the very same, defusing tension or nerves with humour in a pragmatic or stoic fashion. As she had brought the subject up, I thought I’d tease it open a little more. The waiter delivered the food and she immediately tucked in.
“How are your Gambas?” I asked.
She made a motion with her hand that they were ok.
“Would you prefer half of my sandwich, Isabella?”
“What is it?”
“Chicken, bacon, lettuce, tomato, that kind of stuff.”
“Ok, I’ll swap mine for it.”
“So Fantasy thought it funny for you to mention fucking to me, did she?”
“Yes, she is muy loco but funny too.”
“Did she just bring it up out of nowhere?”
“I don’t understand.”
“Had you, three, been talking about fucking when she said that?”
“Oh, yes, Billy. They tell me about the superpower, yes?”
We laughed,
“Yes, that’s what they call it.”
“Can you do that for me?”
“Which one? I believe there’s two now?” I said.
“Oh, I remember. Yes, the both.”
“Do you not come with clients either?” I asked, looking around in case of prying ears.
“No, it is too quick for me.”
“What about with boyfriends or husbands?”
“Impossible.”
“Why?”
“I am an escort, Billy. Who wants an escort wife or girlfriend?”
“I understand, Isabella. It doesn’t make it easier though.”
“Rose and Fantasy tell me your room is huge,” she said.
“It’s a suite,” I said, “it’s quite nice.”
“Can I see it?” she said, “this is my first time in this hotel.”
“Yes, of course, let me settle this bill first.”
We left the restaurant and took the lift to my room. When she got inside, Isabella squealed like a little excited girl. She was a joy. She had her eyes in everywhere and was especially taken with the huge bed. She jumped on to it sideways and bounced herself on her bottom to assess the reactivity of the springs.
“This is mucho mucho grande, Billy.”
“I take it that means, big?”
“Si, Very, very big. Can I use the bathroom?”
She disappeared into the bathroom and I heard the shower running. The hot water in the hotel was extremely hot and it was soothing with a deliciously decadent water pressure. She spent quite a while in there as I relaxed on the bed, checking my phone and counting the emails from Baz, who appeared to be having fun at my expense. I sent him another 60 addresses just to piss him off.
Isabella eventually reappeared from the bathroom and she took my breath away in a black, lace, see-through babydoll nightgown. She was naked underneath save for what looked like a black eye patch protecting her modesty.
“You like, Billy?” she almost sang.
I was speechless. I literally couldn’t speak.
“Absolutely beautiful, Isabella.”
“Where do you want me?”
“You’re the expert, you tell me what to do.”
“Ok, we need you to be naked first,” she said, as she stepped over to me, her breasts swaying slightly beneath the lace.
I opened my belt and she slapped my hand away. In less that twenty seconds I was naked with an erection that was as hard as it has ever been. She massaged my stomach, just above my penis with the flat of her hand and slowly pulled the drawstring of her nightgown to open it. She leaned in and kissed me with soft lips made of pillows, moving them against mine in a slow, rolling motion that took my breath away and made my lips tingle. Her tongue found mine and devoured it in hers as it curled around me and sucked it into her mouth.
We came up for air and her nightgown was now fully open with one side caught on her erect left nipple in a display of eroticism that she had seemingly just invented for my benefit. It hung delicately as though there was a hidden hook or receptacle holding it in contact with the tip of her left nipple. I reached out and slipped it away, allowing my hand to stroke the dark areola lightly, simultaneously hearing a hiss of pleasure from the deep recesses of her body.
The nightgown slipped enticingly from her body, leaving her wearing the smallest item of clothing I had ever seen in my life. She walked around the bed, giving me a view of her smooth skin as it flowed down from her shoulders, over her back and around the gloriously textured contours of her fantastically sexy little bum. She stood away from the bed, watching me intimately, her eyes living in mine. She placed her thumbs on her hips and inside the stringed waistband holding her tiny G-string in place.
“You want?” she almost growled.
“I want, please,” I replied, and she crawled across the bed and lay on top of me.
She continued her kiss where she had left off and I wallowed in the feel and texture of her silky skin as she slid her body around mine, taking me to sensory heaven in the process. She was five foot odd of pure sexiness as she purred a low hum while our bodies writhed together. I was a deer caught in headlights of lust and I allowed myself to immerse my senses in her skill and her body of pure heaven.
Her bum touched my hand and I slipped my fingers into her curvaceous cleft as she sighed.
“De dios si, (My God, yes)” she breathed, in a Spanish exhortation of desire.
It broke the spell and forced me to focus on the part I should play. I rolled her on her back and licked her right nipple as she cupped my head gently to her breast. My hand stroked softly across her flat abdomen as her fingernails raked the back of my shoulders, sending electrical surges directly to the top of my penis.
My hand slipped slowly and deliciously along the surface of her inner thigh as her hips rose and fell in a suggestive indication of arousal as her nipples hardened and extended in time with the movement of my hand close to her vagina.
I lifted myself to my knees and knelt between her legs as she reached for me, her eyes watching as I kissed her just above her mound. I slipped my fingers inside the strings of her thong and she gave a slow nod of recognition as her tongue licked across her lips in anticipation. I slid the thong from her, exposing her stunning vulva to my eyes.
“Ooh, yes,” she breathed, as the fabric slowly peeled away from where it clung to her moist vagina, slowly and seductively, transmitting waves of pleasure and want through her body.
I eased it down over her legs as she moved them one by one in order to be free of it and allow herself to feel free to open herself to me in a free and wanton expression of silent invitation. I moved my head to a place between her legs and felt her adjust her pillow as she settled into a position where she could watch me as I kissed her groin area slowly with soft, yet, deep kisses, sucking quickly and touching my tongue to the soft, tender skin. An involuntary hip motion accompanied this as my tongue travelled across and over her outer labia, barely touching her but causing an outburst of Spanish vocal babbling.
“Taste me, Billy, Eat me.”
A quick look at her wide open vulva showed me the glistening pinkness as it beckoned my tongue. I didn’t disappoint her and began a slow and sensuous stimulation of her entire sensitive area, my tongue and lips working in tandem as seemingly confused noises came from her lips. I slid the tip of my tongue slightly inside her vaginal opening and held it there as my lips lodged in around it, slipping along her labia as they did so. It was a total connection that I would not break until she demanded me to. For now, though, I could tell that she craved more.
I flexed the tip of my tongue and flicked it out from inside her, catching the very edge of her entrance and flattened it along her open vulva to begin a slow journey towards her clitoris. She moved her hand to her shaved mound and spread her lips apart uttering what sounded like a prayer in Spanish as she did so.
The first touch of my tongue to her clitoris brought a huge inhalation of breath, the settling, and first rotation, of my tongue as it slowly circled her, brought a loud moan and a strangled cry as she lifted off the bed and covered me in a milky fluid that was salty, with an aroma of sweetness, that was more voluminous and seductive than any orgasmic release I had ever experienced.
She reacted wildly as the climax hit her hard and I struggled to maintain contact as her wild involuntary hip movements helped her ride out the tremors and convulsions generated by the powerful release from within. I lifted my head and she pulled me to her, wrapping herself around me, wishing us to be as one. Needing reassurance that she wasn’t alone.
She looked straight into my eyes, her lips moving rapidly and silently, her eyes alive with movement as she appeared to search for answers from inside mine. Her head arced backwards as a low scream overtook her senses and a second, unbidden, orgasm crashed through her. She clung even tighter to me as I held her close, adoring the passion of this beautiful sexual creature. She slowly began to settle down and we kissed luxuriously with languid movements and whispered exhortations.
“Dios mio, Billie Eyelash, la lengua de los angeles,” she said, in a whisper.
“I don’t understand, Isabella,” I whispered.
“Lo siento. My God, Billie Eyelash, you have the tongue of the angels.”
“Merci,” I said with a soft chuckle.
She slapped my arm in admonishment and snuggled into to my chest.
We remained connected in our reverie for a while before she stirred. She sat up in search of something then, spotting it, left the bed and strode over to a table that had a couple of bottles of Spring water and glasses on it. She poured us a drink and handed one to me.
“We need to drink, Billy. Fucking makes us dry.”
“Really?”
“Yes, very important,” she said, as she scoffed hers down in one go.
She slid in beside me again and snuggled against me.
“You must have been very dry indeed,” I whispered, “judging by the way you skarfed that down.”
She smiled and licked my left nipple.
“You give me my biggest come, Billie Eyelash.”
She slid her hand over my stomach to my penis. She smiled at my reaction to her touch.
“It is good?”
“Yes,” I breathed, as she caressed the tip softly. ”Very mucho.”
She giggled to herself.
“You want to fuck now?” she asked. “He is ready.”
“Why wouldn’t he be, Isabella?” I said softly. “He’d have to be made of stone not to be, even though I wish he was.”
“Oh, Billie Eyelash,” she whispered with a giggle, “you no need stone. You have the soul.”
“And you have the passion and the beauty.”
“You are mi amante, but could be mi amor.”
I didn’t enquire what that meant but I could guess.
“I would love to be inside you, Isabella, if that’s ok to say,” I said. I couldn’t bring myself to say ‘fuck you’ to her. “What would you like?”
“La lengua de los angeles,” she whispered with a girlish intonation. “I want too the other superpower. I want the enorme orgasmo vaginal from your cock.”
“Maybe we can kill two birds with one stone, if you’ll pardon the expression,” I said, “but you’ll have to be gentle with me.”
“Ah, si, amable,” she said, as she kissed me hungrily.
She slid her body across mine as she climbed sexily on top of me. My eyes were forced shut in the feeling of hedonism that her luscious body generated. Her skin was amazingly smooth and soft and my hands were becoming addicted to her. It also helped to build her arousal and sensitivity as her sighs became more pronounced and her movements became longer and softer, adding a complexity to the layers of feelings that left me weak and totally dependent on her ministrations.
Once again, a condom appeared out of thin air and was rolled over my penis in the blink of an eye. Isabella’s mouth fully engulfed me as she smoothed the condom out with her lips and tongue before slowly massaging the tip with her wondrous lip movements. She lifted her head and her huge bright eyes sought mine.
“You prefer no condom?” she whispered.
“No, it’s fine for this, Isabella.”
“Maybe later? You have a beautiful cock.”
I smiled at her innocence.
“We’ll see,” I said, crossing my fingers and smiling.
She slid her body along mine until her vagina hovered over the tip of my penis. She sighed as she brought it inside her and then groaned as she felt the full penetration inside her tightly filled vagina. I heard myself sighing in pleasure at the way she caressed me and as she slowly reached out for my hands, interlacing her fingers through mine and making me her prisoner with chains of erotic lust. She kissed me.
“You feel so good inside me, Billie Eyelash,” she breathed, “fuck me por favor.”
Her first movement was a thrust along the entire length of my penis and this wasn’t going to go far at that rate so I released my hands from hers and took hold of her hips before sliding them around to hold her bum and guide the depth of her movements. I held her tightly as I began to make small movements inside her, I estimate that they were no more than movements of about a half an inch in depth and penetration but, as my penis was fully penetrating her already, it meant that those small movements reached the entire surface of the walls of her vagina, thereby stimulating her fully and slowly.
The lack of hard thrusting appeared to throw her slightly and her eyes opened and closed with sexy little confused tremors as she reached a tenuous understanding of what I was doing. It was a sumptuously beautiful ten minutes or so before I heard her breath begin to rasp inside her and she laid her head on my chest, kissing the skin softly and quickly, a million kisses in a few sensual minutes.
I heard a soft cry as she sat bolt upright, thrusting and rolling her hips as she felt her climax approaching like a high-speed train. I ceased all of my movement and watched her take charge and she threw her head back and cried out as she flooded my genitals in ejaculate. finishing face down on my chest and laughing in joyful ecstasy as she burrowed herself further onto my penis through the final unsolicited convulsions inside her. She was babbling softly in Spanish and not one word could I make out. It actually sounded like a prayer.
I bent my head to see if she was ok, stroking her long, dark hair and wallowing in the softness and smoothness. She looked up at me and smiled, she clung to me as she slowly returned to earth, still connected with each other and in no hurry to disconnect. Her eyes closed and I slipped my penis from inside her, gently easing her onto her back and covering her as she drifted off to a peaceful sleep.
I rested my head on the pillow, occasionally taking a moment to watch her sleep, thinking through things.
I had noticed that, with all three girls, they were so very adept at making a man feel like he could conquer the world. They knew just the right moves and just the right words to say. Whether it was fake or real was beside the point, it was the effect that they had on the other person in the transaction was what was key. I knew that Isabella asked for €200 per hour so, I wondered fleetingly, what was so different about the girl who asked for €20K? She was elite and she’d probably kill me. But what a way to go.
I woke next morning when Isabella quietly closed the bathroom door as she re-entered the bedroom. She was a vision to behold at 6:30 in the morning. She hunched her shoulders upwards and pouted,
“I’m so sorry, Billy, I wake you,” she said in a whisper.
“Don’t worry about it, Isabella,” I said, “this is normal for me.”
“I fell asleep on you last night,” she said, her eyes wide in apology.”
“That’s ok. You were tired out.”
“No, I was asleep with love, how you say, sexualmente satisfecha.”
“Good, I’m delighted you were.”
“Now I look after you, Billie Eyelash,” she said in a lascivious voice that almost made the hairs on my body stand to attention, just as my penis did.
She crawled over to me and kissed me with a kiss that floored me. She was totally in charge and she demonstrated her sublime expertise as she crawled downwards along my body to take one of my testicles into her mouth and blow my mind with her tongue and lips as she manipulated it with ever-so-soft touches and vocal infusions. Her groin was positioned close to my lips as she worked her magic on my penis and testicles and I knew that I could not prevent an untimely release.
I eased her left knee over my face and began to use a soft tongue along the length of her magnificently beautiful and petite vulva.
“Aah, Billy, eso es tan jodidamente sexy,” she breathed as she released my testicle, “La lengua de los angeles,” and she took my uncovered penis deep in her mouth.
She rocked her body gently in time to the movements of my tongue and I felt her mouth stall as she rose relentlessly towards an orgasmic release as my tongue entered her vaginal opening and continued until it was entirely inside her. I held her bum still as I moved it inside her and she uttered a slight squeal of pleasure at my movements. With my eyes open I could see how aroused her clitoris had become as it peeked out from under the hood. I slowly withdrew from her vagina and floated my tongue to greet it, trapping it and gently flicking it from side to side.
She ground herself into me, demanding more pressure and speed, I obliged, and we moved in full synchronisation until, finally, her body froze, her limbs began to shake and she struggled to get free of my hands as she cried out in ecstatic jubilation, before releasing a tumultuous flood of a musky fluid that was salty and sweet and covered me completely.
She laid her head between my thighs as she calmed and the convulsions lessened and, eventually stopped. She began to laugh. It was a sultry laugh, a laugh of joy and of pleasure. She went to move off me but I stopped her gently and cleaned her vulva with my tongue, sending ripples of pleasure through her. She immediately jumped from my grasp, giggling like a little girl.
“The superpower,” she said and we both laughed until she kissed me, straddled my hips and led me bareback inside her vagina.
I thanked the Lord for that moment and I surprised and delighted myself as I lasted as long as she did, hanging on at the last as she reached a full orgasm while encouraging me to climax inside her. We caught our breath and she came to sit cross-legged beside me, holding my hand and nuzzling my face, our co-mingled ejaculations slowly streaming from her and gathering seductively on the bed.
“That was spectacular, Isabella,” I said.
“Si, muy muy especial, Billy.”
She kissed me then, pulling me into an embrace and clinging to me. We knew it had to end somehow so we made the most of this special moment. I hoped I’d see her again, but I doubted it would happen and I think she sensed this too. I’d keep an eye on the schedule, just in case, and we had each other’s numbers.
We had breakfast in the room and then cleaned ourselves up, gathered our belongings and left the hotel. She was heading out to the George Best Airport so I offered to drop her off there as I was going to the IKEA store close by. We kissed one more time as she left the car and I watched as she safely negotiated the flying taxis and disappeared inside the arrivals terminal.
I did some shopping in IKEA and a nearby Sainsbury’s and hit the bricks for home. The traffic was light and I was driving into Dublin about ninety minutes later. It was close to lunchtime so I dropped into The Coachman’s Inn for lunch. I collected my food and sat at a table in the centre of the room, every other table already occupied. My phone rang. Ritchie D.
“Ritchie D.”
“Hey, Billy,” he said, “are you back?”
“Yes, I’m just in.”
“Where would you be?”
“The Coachman’s.”
“Fuck, I haven’t eaten there for years.”
“It hasn’t changed.”
“Can you drop in on your way home?”
“Yes, what’s up?”
“I need someone to do Active Voids for me.”
“How many?”
“It’s hard to say, but if you have an hour to spare, we might be able to get an idea.”
“That’s a bit obscure,” I said.
“I know, I’m waiting for some information on contractors at the moment,” he said, “between us we might be able to pin a number on them.”
“Is this on top of everything else?”
“Yes.”
“Are you trying to kill me?”
“No, I’m half hoping you might be able to come up with a solution,” he said.
“Ok, I’ll be with you in fifteen minutes.”
“Grand. Thanks, Bill.”
I knew where this was going. DCO used about twenty contractors to upgrade their housing stock as they became vacant due to evictions, abandonment, death of tenants, transfers and a myriad other reasons. Before they could put a new tenant in place, the dwelling had to be upgraded to current legal requirements. The list of contractors that they used was for this purpose and for ongoing maintenance.
As I finished my lunch I reckoned that surveys would be required for each of these properties also and that could be a disaster of biblical proportions for many reasons, the main one being the contractors themselves. Most of them were complete arseholes. Also, it would be impossible for one man to do it because there was simply too much of it to be done. I parked in his yard and pushed the door open.
“Come in, Billy,” his wife, Sharon, said.
I’d known her for years, having had a relationship with her older sister, Audrey, when we were teenagers.
“I haven’t seen you around for a while. What have you been up to?”
“Hey Shaz,” I said, giving her a quick hug, “just getting through life, how’s the boys?”
“Russell is getting married in September, and Josh is still at home.”
“The Prince?”
“My handsome prince, yes. You still remember that?”
“Yes, they’re great kids. Áine loved them.”
“I know,” she said, smiling at the memory, “she used to get pissed off when you’d call them by each other’s names.”
“That’s right,” I said, my memory jogged, “and so did the boys.”
“I remember that, Billy,” she said through a fit of laughter.
“Who said you two could laugh?” Ritchie said, as he walked into the hall where we were talking.
“Who said you could walk in here with your shoes on?” she said tartly.
“Trouble in paradise, lads?”
“No, just Sharon being her usual bitchy self.”
They had a great relationship but Shaz had an acid tongue at times. She was affectionately known by us all as ‘The Terrorist’ because nobody escaped her wrath.
We adjourned to Ritchie’s ‘office’ in the kitchen.
“What the fuck, Ritchie?”
“What?”
“You’re working out of your kitchen?”
“I’ve a laptop, I can work from my car if I have to.”
“If Sharon gets pissed off with you being under her feet, you may have to live in the fucking thing,” I said, recalling what Amy had told me about Nordic.
“Shut, the fuck, up and read this,” he said, turning his laptop to face me.
I read through it as Sharon came back into the room.
“Tea, Billy?” she asked.
“No thanks, Shaz, I had one with my lunch.”
I turned the laptop back to face him.
“What am I looking at?”
“A list of current single voids,” he said. “There’s 1,200 of them.”
“How many are under refurbishment?”
“Four hundred, and we need a before and after.”
“How much each?”
“The same.”
“No, it’s not enough.”
“How much, then?”
“I don’t know,” I said, backing off a little, “I need to do a calculation.”
“Ah come off it, Billy,” he said, “how hard could it be?”
“I’m going to have to take a couple of lads on, Ritchie,” I said, “I’ll also have to take someone on to handle the office and invoicing side too.”
“How much could that be, really?”
“I don’t know,” I said, “that’s why I need some fucking time.”
I knew by looking at him that he was under the gun for a number at that very moment. I also knew that he had a number in his head already. I just needed to hear it from him.
“Come on, Billy,” he said, “how hard could it be?”
“You’d be surprised,” I said with a grin, “it surprised me.”
He sat up in his seat and, if Sharon hadn’t been in the room, our conversation about prices would have ended right there.
“Ok, you go home and work something out,” he said, “I’ll drop by in an hour or so.”
“I’m going home to bed, Ritchie,” I said, “I had a long night and a long drive home and I’m totally whacked.”
“I need something by morning.”
“I’ll tell you what, Ritchie,” I said, “let’s stop fucking around here. Why don’t you get a top-line number from Nordic and I’ll see if I can do it or not.”
“Would €200 per survey do it?”
“It’s hard to say, €240 would be better.”
“Leave it with me, fancy a pint in the club later?”
“Great, 7:00?”
“6:30, Celtic are on the box at 7:30 and I’ll be watching that.”
I left him to it and drove home, my head spinning as I thought everything through. I had intended going for a lie-down in bed but my head was working overtime with all this new information and potential. I felt that, to do this properly I’d either have to rent an office or turn my home office into a more traditional space. I had a look at it in reality, instead of through my mind’s eye. It was way too small. It would be infinitely preferable to turn, either the parlour at the front of the house, or one of the bedrooms upstairs, into an office.
I then considered someone to man the office. If it was a female, I didn’t think it appropriate to house it in a bedroom. It wouldn’t matter too much if it was a male, unless he decided to leave and I had to replace him with a female then. So the parlour was the room I settled on. It was a nice size and had been decorated a little over a year previously. If I moved all of the existing stuff from my old office, it wouldn’t take much to fit the room out properly. With that in mind, I took my tape out and measured everything, drew up a plan and set about making a list of what I felt it needed. All I needed then was the word from Ritchie.
I sat at my desk and opened my email to a slew of correspondence from Baz and Ritchie. Baz had completed and forwarded forty surveys along with the invoices. I decided to sort them out into folders and sent them on to Ritchie with the appropriate invoices. This was an ideal exercise because it meant I could put an actual time on how long it took to do that for estimating purposes. The whole exercise took me forty-five minutes. My take was €1,200 or €1,066 per hour. Barack Obama wasn’t getting paid that much so I felt justified. If I could get Baz to work on fifty or sixty addresses a week it would escalate.
Working that back into my estimates, I then added an estimated cost that a full time office staff would cost. It didn’t appear too bad, but, in the beginning, there would only be a need to employ someone to work for three days. That could be expanded if the need arose. If the current volume continued, I could possibly hold my prices at the same level and still be profitable, but there appeared to be some chance to increase it. I intended to take that chance.
I saw Ritchie’s van drive into the garden.
“What’s the story?” he said.
“You tell me,” I replied.
“OK,” he said, taking a seat in the living room. “They’re prepared to pay €210 for the Active Voids.”
“It’s a bit tight, Ritchie.”
“Why?”
“There’s a lot of initial expense involved, I’d have to take on an office worker and another surveyor, maybe two. There’d be nothing much in it for a lot of work.”
“Put a number on it,” he said.
“I don’t know,” I said, “I think we should start around the €250 mark and see how it goes.”
“I’ve been told to stay below that, Bill.”
“Ok, €249.99.”
“Don’t be a cunt! €240.”
“€245.”
“You’re a bastard, ok, €245 it is,” he said, taking out his phone.
He sat back and typed something in and I heard the whoosh of the email leaving his phone and the sound of it arriving in mine.
“What’s that?”
“Four hundred addresses, and the names and contact details for the contractors doing them.”
“Hold on a minute,” I said.
“What?”
“This is not going to work unless there’s a procedure in place.”
“Put one in place, then.”
“Not my job. You need to send out a notification to each of those contractors that this is now a requirement and that the onus is on them, to contact me.”
“Why?”
“Because they won’t bother their arses, Ritchie, as well you know.”
“What can I do?”
“Tell them that I’ll email them the certs for every survey and they have to be included in their Safety File paperwork for payment on each job.”
“That’s more work for you, though, Billy.”
“Tell them they’ll have to pay €5 plus tax for each file, there’s three files for each job.”
“Good idea. I’ll tell them €15, make it worth your while. Happy?”
“Happier,” I said.
“So tell me about this long night in Belfast.”
“I’ll talk to you in the club later, Ritchie, I have stuff to do.”
“I do too, see you later.”
Baz rang me as I was completing my list of office furniture and equipment.
“Hey, Baz.”
“Alright, Billy? Did you get all those files I sent you?”
“I did, thanks. Have you any more?”
“I’ll have another twenty this evening.”
“Great, keep them coming.”
“Do you know Martin O’Shea?”
“No.”
“Nice guy. He trained with me.”
“Lovely.”
“Smart arse. Would it be ok if I got him in to do a few surveys for me?”
“No.”
“Why not, Billy? He’s a bit stuck for work.”
“Give him my number. I’ll see what I can do. No promises, though.”
“Good man, Bill, you won’t regret it.”
“I’m already regretting it, Baz, did you tell him the freight?”
“Yes. Shouldn’t I have?
“No, that’s fine. Will he work both sides of the city?”
“He’d work in Siberia, Billy. His mot is bleeding him dry.”
“Are they divorcing?”
“Yes.”
“Ok, tell him to give me a bell in the morning,. I’ll see what I can scrape together to get him going.”
“Sound. I’ll do that, thanks, Billy.”
As I had no knowledge of anyone, locally, who may be interested in the office work position, I composed a small advertisement for inclusion in the Coolock Artane News, a local, free weekly newspaper. I hoped it might attract an interested local soul who wanted to earn a few bob without having the modern hassles of getting to work. I left it open as to the gender of the applicants and I requested a competency in all forms of computer and office work, programs and systems. I sat back and read it through once more before sending it, and the payment, through to the website pay platform. I relaxed in my seat and lit a smoke.
I began to assemble a list of addresses from the Active Voids list that Ritchie had emailed me. I had a little difficulty in navigating it so I gave him a call.
“Billiam,” he said.
“This list of Active Voids is not easy to read.”
“Put your glasses on.”
“Then I might be able to see it and I’d have no excuses.”
“What’s your problem?”
“Apart from the obvious, what are the priorities on this list.”
“If you look closely at it, you’ll see a tiny little asterisk,”
“From the Greek ‘asteriskos’,” I said quickly.
“Whatever,” he grumbled, “they’re the urgent ones, there should be fifty-five of them.”
“Ok, over and out.”
I found the asterisk, with difficulty, next to fifty-eight addresses, curated the document by copy-and-pasting them into a new list, before saving it as a PDF. I’d wait until I spoke with Martin O’Shea the next morning. I called Baz.
“Hey, Billy, Martin is delighted with that, he’s gonna call you first thing in the morning.”
“Good. Baz, you were to send me your bank transfer details, what the fuck?”
“Shit, I forgot about that, I’ll get it to you tonight or tomorrow.”
“If it comes tomorrow you won’t get paid, I suggest you do it now.”
“Sorry, Billy. Senior moment.”
“Get off the phone and send me the details.”
The phone rang again, I was becoming irritated with it.
“Hello? Billy Byrne,” I said,
“Hi, is that Billy?” a female voice said.
“It was a few minutes ago.”
“Sorry, of course, forgive me.”
“Not to worry, it’s a busy day, I apologise.”
“Thank you. I’m calling about the ad in the Northside News.”
“I didn’t put it in the Northside News.”
“It goes to all the community newspapers,” she said, “I saw your ad in the online edition.”
“Jesus, that was fast,” I said, “I only sent it to them less than an hour ago. Anyway’s, how can I help you?”
“I’d like to apply for the position please?”
“Oh, sorry, of course you would, forgive me again, I’m a bit of an idiot sometimes, can I have your name please?”
“Yes, Debbie Jones, I live in Artane on the Malahide Road.”
“You’re a local girl then?”
“Well, it’s a few years since I could be classed as a girl, but yes,” she laughed.
“Great. I’m not sure of the protocol, Debbie,” I said, “I’ve never hired an office staffer. Would an interview be a little over the top?”
“No, I think it’s mandatory.”
“Ok, that’s one thing I learned today at least,” I said, “do you have time tomorrow?”
“Yes, what time suits?”
“What suits you?”
“Earlier is better, I do the school run in the mornings.”
“Ok, give me a time.”
“8:50 / 9:00?”
“Great, see you then.”
I no sooner hung up than it rang again. It was Melody,
“Hey there, troublemaker,” I said with a laugh, happy for the change in pace.
“Hey, Billie Eyelash,” she trilled, “I hear you bowled a Spanish maiden over.”
“She’s very kind, Melody,” I said, “but I think she enjoyed it.”
“Fucking sure she did, she hasn’t shut up about it since you dropped her at the airport.”
“I’m glad. So what’s going on?”
“Not a lot, I have college lectures today and I’ve been summoned to the court of Queen Amelie tonight.”
“Ooh, sounds expensive for someone.”
“I know,” she burst out laughing, “I’m calling because I’d like to see you tomorrow night if you’re available.”
“Yes, I’ve nothing planned except a ray and chips, a snack box or a special curry,” I said, “are you ok?”
“No, I’m strung out and horny, Billy,” she said, “I need you to sort me out.”
I started laughing.
“Ok, seriously.”
“Seriously, please?”
“Will it be an in-call or an out-call you require?”
“Fuck off! I would never charge you,” she said, and went into a fit of laughing.
I scratched my head and tried not to smile too wide.
“You bowl me over, Melody, of course I’d love to see you,” I said, “do you want to come here and have dinner?”
“Yes, please. I love salt and chili chicken with curry sauce and fried rice.”
“At least you have simple tastes.”
“Yes, and a long, wet and juicy taste of cock for dessert.”
“Christ! I’ll text you the address, do you drive?”
“Yes, thanks, Billy. Will I bring a bottle of wine or something?”
“I could sell you wine, Melody. Just bring yourself.”
“Is there anything special you’d like me to wear for you?”
“What are you thinking? A wet suit? Body armour? Spiked trousers?
“I have a new set of black lingerie with sheer black stockings that I could break in. The body armour doesn’t fit any more.”
“That’s never really done it for me, Melody. If you just wear a thong and nothing else, that drives me crazy.”
“I can do that, Billy, any specific colour?”
“Surprise me.”
“Mmmm, I have the very thing. Maybe I’ll blow your mind this time.”
“You’ve done that already, my dear.”
She laughed.
“Don’t forget to text me the address. Use WhatsApp, I’ll get it for sure that way. Is 7:00 ok for you?”
“Perfect, I’m looking forward to it.”
“Oh, so am I, love. Kisses for now,” she said and hung up.
I texted her the address and stuck the kettle on to boil. It occurred to me that I didn’t have any sex underwear. I dismissed the thought and told myself to cop on. I checked my watch, it was 6:15, I had a quick wash and left to meet Ritchie at the club.
He was sitting in the lounge at the bar on his usual stool. He held up a pint of Guinness.
“I got you one in,” he said, and I headed swiftly in his direction.
“You’re a wise and wonderful man, Ritchie. Sláinte,” I said, and promptly spilt the G.
“Good shot!” he said.
“What’s the story?”
“I could ask you the same question,” he said, with a curious little grin.
“About what?”
“You and Amy Cobbe.”
“What about us?”
“So you’re an us, are you?
“Don’t be a prick. Of course we aren’t, what have you heard?”
“Dancing the night away at the Eastside Ball?”
“We had a couple of dances, that’s all,” I said, “there was nothing inappropriate.”
“Are you gonna see her again?”
“I’m sure I’ll run into her somewhere.”
“I’d say you are.”
“Ritchie, we encounter each other occasionally with work matters,” I said, “there’s nothing going on with us, apart from the fact that she needed a plus one for the fucking do.”
“You left early and drove her home.”
“Yes, I did, and I dropped her at the lobby doors.”
“You do know that she has eyes for you, don’t you?”
“I sincerely doubt that, Ritchie.”
“Ok, I want it noted that I warned you.”
“Duly noted. Is that it?”
“Yes, what’s your plan for these Active Voids?”
“I stopped working an hour ago, let’s talk bollox for a bit and forget the job for once.”
“Ok, how’s Aoife doing?”
“She’s good, her job keeps her occupied.”
“Where is she now?”
“Still in London,” I said, “I hope to see her in July.”
“Do you think that Amy is gay?”
“It wouldn’t surprise me. After all, she’s not married and doesn’t seem interested in men.”
“Except you.”
“Come on, Ritchie, that dance was a confluence of exigent circumstances.”
“Ok, if you’re going to speak in tongues, I’m out.”
We chatted about nothing at all until the football started, I had one more pint and left him to his match.
Next morning I was up early with a breakfast of smoked salmon and poached eggs, cooked and eaten before 8:00. I put a pot of coffee on to perk and started the computer up. Martin O’Shea called me at 8:30 sharp.
“Hi Martin, nice and early I see.”
“Hi Billy, yes, thanks for taking the call.”
“Baz tells me you’re having a difficult time at the minute.”
“Yes, I won’t bore you with the details, suffice to say, I think I’m being screwed with my trousers on.”
“It’ll end at some point Martin,” I said, “listen, I have someone coming in soon, so I’ll get right to the point.”
“Great. Baz said you weren’t one for hanging around.”
“Yes,” I said. “I have some surveys that need to get done, Martin. They’re for DCO, they’re all houses and apartments.”
“Right, how many are there?”
“Fifty-eight to start.”
“Shit!”
“Yes. These first few are ready to be handed back to the Council by the contractors doing the work. They need certs in place before they get paid, so you can sense the urgency.”
“Yes. When do you need me to start them?”
“Today.”
“Really?”
“Yes.”
“Ok, so how do I get access to the list and to the dwellings themselves?”
“Shout your email out and I’ll send it to you now.”
He rattled off his address and I forwarded the list to him.
“Ok, have you got it?”
“Yes, I’m in front of my computer.”
“Great, you’ll see the addresses in question, it doesn’t matter where you begin, that’s up to you,” I said, “the contractor’s number is at the bottom of the page, there are five contractors in all.”
“I see that.”
“Whatever you do, Martin,” I said, “do not piss them off. Where upgrades have been applied to walls, windows or anything you’re going to need a Declaration of Works from them to cover you, so be nice to them. Within reason of course.”
“Understood.”
“With each of these, you’ll need a pre-works certificate. I realise that the work is finished but it’s just a process of extrapolation to begin with. If we have the pre-works data in place, it’ll keep the Council off our back.”
“Gotcha.”
“The good news is that you get paid the same amount for the pre as the post. Going forward you’ll have to visit the site and do the survey then issue a cert, the final cert can be done when the job is complete.”
“Ok, that’s simple enough, Billy,” he said, “ehm, speaking of which, what are you paying?”
“€120 per survey, Martin,” I said, “how does that sound?”
“Does that include the cert and the tax?”
“No, tax and fees are extra.”
“That’s fantastic, thanks for the opportunity, Billy.”
“Good luck with it, Martin. If you have any more questions just give me a bell.”
We hung up and I began to clean the kitchen. I was just finished when the doorbell rang. Debbie Jones, bang on time. I opened the door and held it for her as she came through.
“Debbie, lovely to meet you,” I said, and we shook hands.
I don’t know why, but she looked different than what I had expected after the call the day before. I’d assumed she was older than the thirty-eight years on her CV for a start. Her dark hair had a youthful and modern styling to it. Her deep blue eyes had the world-weary look of worry and pain. She wore a little makeup and a little pink lipstick to highlight her attractive lips. She dressed appropriately for an interview in a white blouse and black pants and she carried a light blue cardigan or sweater in one hand and a large shopping bag in the other.
We sat in the parlour as I explained the job and what was required. She nodded continuously and said little. She had bags of experience and was adept in MS Word, Office, Excel and Works. She also held a teaching qualification in Sage and three other accounting software platforms. She even knew where the teabags were kept.
“Do you think you’d like working here?” I asked. “it’ll be a lonely existence most of the time since I’m on the road a lot.”
“Yes, it’s perfect for me, Billy. I can work 9:00 to 1:30 and collect the kids from school.”
“How many have you?”
“Just the two.”
“Does your husband assist with the school runs?”
“We’re not together anymore.”
“I’m sorry to hear that.”
“Thanks, it’s fine, though, we’re better apart.”
“So, Debbie, if you’d like it, you can have the job. I can’t see myself meeting anyone more qualified.”
“Oh, thank you, Billy,” she said and hugged me.
“The position was for a three-day week from 9:00 to 5:00,” I said, “but if you like, we can set the hours to suit the school run for five days. It’ll keep your hours constant.”
“That’d be perfect, Billy, and you’re paying €15 an hour?
“Yes, does that work?”
“It’s grand,” she said. “I was offered €18 somewhere else, but they wanted it to be a full-time post.”
“We’ll match that for you, Debbie.”
“Oh, I didn’t mean for you to do that.”
“No, I appreciate you telling me, I’d rather know what you’re thinking.”
She smiled shyly.
“Ok, I think we’ve done enough for today. When would you like to start?”
“Can I do an hour or two now, please?” she said, “I’d like to familiarise myself with your systems.”
“Systems is a very fancy word for what we have here, Debbie.”
She laughed.
“Don’t worry, Billy, We’ll soon get it knocked it into shape.”
I showed her everything and outlined my thoughts on the bigger office. She suggested that I retain my own office and the main business be done in the parlour office. I moved the three file cabinets I had into her office along with some incidental occasional furniture that was in my way.
I got a text from the Office Supply people to say that the stuff I ordered the previous afternoon was thirty minutes out. I called Aidan Brennan, a contractor and all-round genius of timber, and told him we needed him. By noon, Debbie was all set up in her office. I gave her a spare key that she could use if I wasn’t there when she started on Monday. Five minutes later, I was in the car headed for PC World to fetch a computer system, specified and designed by her, for her needs.
I spent the evening cleaning up the mess after we’d finished working in the office. I then showered, changed and ordered a food delivery in time for the doorbell at exactly 7:00. My female visitor had arrived.
A beautiful, smiling, Melody stood at the door. In her hand was a medium-sized bag. She wore a dark navy overcoat and heels that made her stand an inch or two taller than me. Her blonde hair shone with a silky smooth and lustrous sheen as it framed her face and danced along her shoulders. I took her hand and invited her inside.
She appraised the house as I assisted the removal of her coat, inhaling her scent and the escaping warmth of her body as the coat opened and slid from her shoulders into my hands.
“Nice,” she said, and smiled as she reached for me to greet me with her soft and sensuous lips.
“Hi,” she whispered.
“Hi,” I said, “welcome to my home.”
Our lips met in a soft caress, reacquainting themselves in an increasingly deep and soulful kiss. Slowly offering our tongues to each other, savouring the moment and the intimacy of each other. Her touch was electric as she poured every little feeling into the coupling and signaling her desire and intent to my slowly growing penis as I held her close to me, intoxicated by her beauty and her presence.
“You look, spectacular,” I said, gazing at the simple blue dress she wore tied at the waist, “I put the food in the oven to keep it warm.”
She stepped over to the cooker and switched it off.
“I’m not hungry yet.”
She slipped the knot on the belt of her dress and slid it from her shoulders, leaving only a black lace mini thong covering some of her modesty.
“I’m so fucking horny, Billy, I’m in pain,” she almost growled at me.
I pulled her to me and immediately took one of her perfect breasts in my hand, kissing her nipple, as my other hand sought the feel of her elegantly proportioned bum. I slid my hand inside the rear of her thong, lingering in the cleft of her backside, scratching her skin infinitesimally with my short fingernails, and drawing a sigh from her lips.
She leaned back against the kitchen island as I knelt before her, slowly sliding the delicate lace downwards and completely away as she stood naked before me, her legs opening in invitation to my tongue. With both hands bracing herself against the countertop she offered her hips in supplication to my tongue and lips.
I held my hands to her bum as my tongue tasted her entire groin, soft kisses and suckling of her skin drawing extended ragged breaths. Using my thumbs I parted the lips of her labia and tasted the soft pinkness of her inner tissue as it opened out like a lily in the morning light.
I licked and kissed her everywhere, each touch greatly considered, each touch gauged in time with her reactions. She anticipated my progress towards her clitoris and she braced for the contact that didn’t arrive as she expected it would. I rubbed one of my thumbs softly against her vaginal opening, causing a groan of arousal from her as she moaned,
“Please, Billy, I’m going to die.”
My tongue flicked against her aroused clitoris at the same moment my middle finger slowly entered her vagina. I allowed my tongue to rotate around her clitoris in time with my finger as it stroked the aroused pad of her G-Spot. A rising moan, accompanied by her hooking her left leg over my shoulder, soon became a full cry of ecstatic joy.
A powerful orgasm coursed through her as it forced her trembling body into convulsions, her hips gyrating into me, forcing my finger further inside. She pulled me away from her as she bent double, a stream of musky milky fluid running down her legs.
I tasted it at the source and she buckled at the waist at my soft touch, causing us both to collapse into a tangle of arms, bodies and legs on the kitchen floor.
We slowly disentangled and I took her hand and helped her to her feet. I held her as she clung to me, her face buried in my shoulder, my eyes drawn to the tiny scrap of fabric that lay abandoned on the floor beside us. I lessened my hold on her.
“Not yet, Billy, please. Hold me,” she whispered.
“I’m here, love,” I said.
“Oh Jesus, fuck, Billy, I’m coming again,” she almost screamed.
It was gentler this time, more of an aftershock than a full blown climax as she insinuated her body into mine. I felt her skin eventually cool and her breath return slowly.
I felt her heartbeat calming and her eye lashes flutter against my cheek. Every sensation was magnified and amplified and every touch was meaningful, intimately focused and powerful.
She lifted her tear-stained face and sniffed her nose. This beautiful woman, this wonderful, beautiful woman, her world bound in cynicism, her frailties disguised by bawdy humour. This woman had become the child, that she held within, in my arms. She smiled and kissed me as I wiped her tears away.
“Fuck you, Billie Eyelash. I had that planned in a completely different way.”
I put my arm around her, trying to stop the convulsive laughter that engulfed us.
“Let’s go to bed, we can have that food later.”
“Can we have it for breakfast?”
“Is that your way of asking to stay the night?”
“I was thinking more of staying the weekend, I’ve a box of tricks in my bag.”
“You won’t need them, little girl.”
“Ooh, Billie Eyelash, those are some very big words you’re using.”
“Here’s another one for your delight and delectation, antidisestablishmentarianism, my little Melody fair.
“What does that mean?”
“I’m fucked if I know.”
TBC
