If you blinked and missed part one it is here read it first it will help.
We left Darla clinking glasses at the end of a dinner party. Darla and Mark spent the night in the newly converted studio loft apartment. Poor Darla had far too much fizz to do little more than sleep in the beautifully finished high tech space.
As she woke Darla gagged on a hair and peeled her cheek from Mark’s chest. Her lips were pasty and her tongue slurped as she tugged it from the roof of her mouth. Groaning, she hoisted her body and pressed her feet to the floor and braced herself; before standing. A flush of Goosebumps prickled her skin. Darla grabbed a tossed sheet and glancing over at Mark while she hastily wrapped it Egyptian like around her flesh. A fruitless palm patted the side table for her specs. In urgent need to clean up and find both glasses and clothes; neither of which she remembered removing, Darla attempted to walk to the bathroom. After a couple of shuffles, she thrust her leg forward too far and the sheet tightened dragging the other leg with it. With a hefty thump, she lay flat on her back with Mark leaning over the side of the bed; his eyes bulged. “Stay still,” he said scrambling to pick her up. Quick as a flash he effortlessly placed her on the duvet. Trying to stop him pulling off the sheet to see if she was injured, Darla’s knuckles connected with his chin. “I am so sorry, are you okay? I never meant”… stroking his cheek she wriggled to sit. Mark slowly shook his head, a smile crept across his face. “Maybe you have too much energy, let’s see if we can burn some off”. Darla was mortified, she needed a wash, a clean-up, before… all thoughts of bathing went out the window by the time he removed the sheet.
Mark showered and left her glowing in the aftermath of a post-coital dream. Her head was full of him as she took a luxurious shower. With steam covering both window and mirror, her glasses still missing ; she surprised herself as she managed to brush her teeth, and pull a comb through her hair without a problem.
At the door, she saw the outline of some scales… Moll loved her gadgets so Darla expected them to either speak her weight or write it digitally on a screen. On mounting the scale she peered looking for a place to turn them on. Poking her toe firmly on the button, they began to vibrate. Darla was naked so she could get the lightest reading, she was sure she’d burnt off at least a pound in nervous energy this morning.
The shock on Darla’s face as the contraption took off was a picture; one she hoped no one would ever see. Scooting towards the Velux window she could see Frank on the lawn gesticulating to Mark, as they looked up to the loft. Her luck was in, they turned away as she passed the window unseen. Trundling towards the spiral stairs, Darla knew bailing off needed to happen and sharpish. She screwed her eyes tight and leapt. Skimming across the floor was assisted by the coating of talc on her body, a final drag down the seagrass rug left her sore and breathless. It was then when sprawled on the floor that her glasses twinkled under the bed. Darla crawled over and put her lopsided glasses on, grabbed the sheet once more to cover herself before attempting to approach the scales. There were patches of raw skin on her bottom, elbows, and heels. Still shaking Darla stooped to read her weight.
She stared not believing her eyes as the on button, glowing green, had one word shining at her,’Clean’. How ridiculous she felt, she had just spent five minutes standing on a robotic vacuum cleaner, stark naked. She risked her life, almost thrown into the kitchen, in front of the now busy family filled room; via the staircase. Darla put the offending cleaner back and quickly dressed. The wounds now weeping were sticking to her clothes. Darla hobbled downstairs carrying her shoes and bag; wincing with each step. Moll lifted her head “Good morning ready for breakfast? We have toast bacon and eggs or a bacon butty, what do you fancy?” Two dogs, the son and his girlfriend stopped eating, they looked up. She knew she couldn’t sit or get her shoes on she just wanted to leave before she cried. “Tom, go get Dad and Mark in will you? Good lad”.
Mark and Moll looked at each other as Moll jerked her head in Darla’s direction. “Something wrong love?” Darla shook her head while biting her lip. “Do we need to get back?” Afraid her voice would break she nodded. “Thanks for a smashing night Moll say bye to Frank for me, sorry we can’t stay for breakfast… maybe another time”. Goodbyes were said and Moll signalled to Darla to phone her soon. Mark said nothing as she hobbled to the car, or when she whimpered lowering herself in to the bucket seat. A mile down the road he pulled over to hear her story and wipe her damp eyes.
More from Darla next week, meanwhile let me know what you think? Do you know a Darla? Maybe it’s you…leave a comment and I’ll reply soon. Happy reading.