Rain rattled against the window like rice on a drum skin, and the house groaned as the wind wheezed through gaps around the old doors. Emily tried again to convince herself she was not scared; the old Emily would not have been, but the old Emily had gone and the new one was stumbling in the dark. This weekend was supposed to be another step on her road to recovery, but she’d fallen at the first hurdle.

She’d gone to bed early, but the storm made it difficult to sleep in the guest bedroom of her parent’s home, so she went down to the living room just before midnight. She’d been living with them for the last three months. It was now more than a year since it had happened. They were great, and she was thankful for all their help, but now she needed to do more for herself to regain her confidence. Her father could see it and knew she needed a break from them; her mother was a different matter.

“Emily is a big girl, Jean; she needs to make her own way again,” he’d said.

“Big girl or not, she will always be our child Jack,” she’d replied.

It had taken their combined efforts to persuade her mum she’d be okay alone while they visited her aunt in Cardiff for the weekend. Emily had been fine when the storm started, but when the power failed, her confidence ebbed away. She was on her own in the dark, in a storm, in an isolated farmhouse. Emily shivered, as much in fear as with the cold. She felt her way on her hands and knees to the fireplace and found the ignition lever on the side. She clicked twice and refused to panic when nothing happened. On the third press, the gas burst into life, pushing back the cold and the dark at the same time. Warmth and confidence returning, she made her way to the kitchen, to the fuse cupboard her dad had shown her during her first week. He was old school about things like that, and now she was grateful for it. She found the candles and matches and a card with the emergency contact number for Caledonian Power.

Emily made her way back to the living room and lit a candle. The flickering light threw ghostly shadows on the wall, giving her imagination something new to fret about. She lit two more, and they banished the ghosts to the corners of the room. Her dead mobile phone mocked her on the coffee table. Her dad had a routine when he came into the house; keys and wallet in the old fruit bowl on the hall table and phone in the charger. He was a bit OCD about it. Now she wished she had been more like him. Emily picked up the house phone, surprised the line was still live, but who would she ring at 1 am? Certainly not her parents, even though her dad had left her aunt’s number on a post-it note stuck to the handset. The little telephone directory next to it had the numbers of her parent’s friends and a few relatives, all in her mum's neat handwriting. She realised her parents’ distrust of technology; preferring candles, landlines, paper phone books etc, was sensible and resolved to be less dependent on her £30 per month paperweight.

An enormous crack of lightning brought her musings about generational differences to an abrupt end. Emily’s heart was racing. “Fuck that, I’ve had enough of this,” she told the cowering ghosts. She dialed the Caledonian Power emergency number, desperate to hear another person’s voice. But first, she would give them a piece of her mind about the bloody electricity going off. When would the service be back, I mean it’s not as if they didn’t pay through the nose for electricity? And how come there was electricity to make the phone work? Perhaps they should buy their electricity from the phone company? She had time to practice her outrage while on hold. She reached just the right level of righteous indignation when the music cut out and she was connected to a customer service operative.

“Caledonian Power, Andy speaking, how can I help you?” The warm Scottish voice with a slight Edinburgh burr, almost wrong-footed Emily; she had been expecting to speak to ‘Kevin’ from New Delhi, but she found inspiration from it.

“You may be Caledonian, but you’ve got no power, not where I am sitting anyway,” Emily snapped.

Andy smiled to himself. He’d heard many more offensive openings, but fewer witty ones. “My apologies on behalf of Caledonian Power. The storm has disrupted supplies in several locations. If you give me your postcode, I can give you an update on plans to restore power in your area.”

He’d taken the wind out of Emily’s sails, not from what he said, which was all good customer service practice, but by the calm and reassuring way he said it. But she was determined to have her go. “But I don’t know my postcode,” she bellowed and immediately regretted it because she sounded like an idiot.

“Not to worry madam, just let me have your address,” continued the patient, reasonable voice.

Emily wondered how many other calls this man had already dealt with, and her natural politeness made her apologetic. “I mean, I’m house-sitting my parents' place, I can’t remember their postcode but the nearest village is Bilton,” she said more evenly. She could hear his fingers on the keyboard.

“Ah yes,” said Andy. “I’ll know when your lights come on because they will come on here too, we’re both in the same network area.”

“So, you’re sitting there in the dark too, are you?” Emily felt connected to the welcoming voice at the other end of the line.

“Yes, I am. The phones get their power from a separate national network; we have batteries to keep the computers running. But I am in the dark with you, Ms…”

“Emily, my name is Emily Moss. You’re not worried about the dark then?”

“It hasn’t bothered me for years and I am used to working nights. There’s no need for you to worry, you are not alone,” said Andy.

“What do you mean?”

“Well, I am here with you, aren’t I?” His voice was like a comforting arm around her shoulder.

“Yes, yes you are Andy, thank you.”

“Emily, I will have to answer some other calls in a minute, but if you would like I could call you back later, to give you an update on the situation.”

“That would be very nice, Andy. I’ll look forward to your update.”

Andy rang off a minute later, and Emily sat in the candlelight pondering what just happened. She checked the last number dialed to make sure she had been speaking to the power company. She was blushing. Like he’d just chatted her up in a wine bar. His voice was too good for that job. He sounded like he should be on the radio, on a phone-in programme. What did he look like? Did he have a wife or girlfriend? The storm blew on, but it did not register anymore. She had not thought about a man that way since it had happened. A man was a complication Emily did not need at the moment. The thought of a man rejecting her because of the way she was now; or worse still, finding one who was only interested because of the way she was now was too much. Her counselor mentioned that possibility in one of their sessions. Anyway, here in the dark as a disembodied voice on the phone she could be who she wanted to be. She could be perfect. She wondered again about Andy and his smooth, seductive voice. Why was he wasting it on the night shift at customer services? No, she was being unfair, who was she to criticize, it was none of her business; he was only trying to be kind, and she was grateful for his care. An hour passed, and just as she convinced herself it was all flannel, the phone rang.

“Hello Emily, Andy here, just letting you know what is happening.”

It surprised Emily, how relieved she felt to hear his voice. “Yes, Andy, thank you.”

“You’re sound surprised I called back?”

“Well, I was thinking it was just a way to manage complaints.”

“That’s not very kind. Because of your parent’s age, we list them as vulnerable people, so we give them priority in emergency situations.”

“Is that true?” said Emily, not quite believing that a private business would have such a conscience.

“It is true, and it is also a wonderful excuse for my other reason for calling.”

“Which is?”

“I like the sound of your voice and I want to hear more of it.”

“Snap,” said Emily. The word was out before she had time to censor it. Not that she would have wanted to, anyway. She felt light-headed that this Adonis, (her thoughts were running away), was interested in her. Even if it was just banter, it was great for her self-confidence.

They both laughed with the relief they would not have to pretend to have a conversation about a power cut.

“Anyway, we are rerouting power because a pylon is down. I’m afraid it could take all night to fix.”

“Oh dear, I will expect you to keep me fully appraised of the situation,” said Emily, happy at the prospect of speaking to Andy again.

“Well, you’ve got to keep the customer satisfied,” said Andy.

“Speaking of songs, I was thinking you had a perfect voice for late-night radio.”

“Why is that?” he teased.

“You know, deep, warm, comforting… sexy.” Emily could not believe she was telling him this.

“Any more?” he teased.

“Oi mister, you’re supposed to be stroking my ego. I’m the customer,” she laughed.

“That’s true. But thank you, Emily. I tried out for local radio once.”

“But you were rubbish?”

“Ouch, she sets him up to knock him straight down,” said Andy, feigning injury. “No, I had problems driving the studio technology and on many late-night shows there is no studio engineer.”

“That’s a pity, let’s hear your patter then.”

“Okay, if you insist. The time is now 2.15 am, and I dedicate our next record to the beautiful and charming Emily. It’s Foreigner with, `Waiting for a Girl like you.”

Her face was glowing, and she felt a warmth and tightness in her chest at the same time. More surprising was the strong pulse in her groin.

“How did I do?” asked Andy.

Emily heard her croaky voice saying, “You got the job.”

They chatted on about music and books and films; the conversation flowed. They shared a love of Dickens and a loathing of reality TV. After 20 minutes she heard an alarm beeping at his end.

“Emily, I need to give the team a hand, the calls are backing up. I’ll be back,”

“Okay, you know where I’ll be.” She hugged the cushion when the line went dead.

Emily sat in the dark. No longer afraid of the storm blowing outside. She felt like she was on a date that had been interrupted. She looked at her reflection in the mirror. Even by the candlelight, she noticed the sparkle in her eyes and the bloom on her cheek, and she was smiling. She had not felt this happy in a long time. She also noticed her nipples poking through her cotton pajamas top, and as she pinched her legs together, she could feel her wetness. ‘You’re not exactly playing hard to get, you tart,’ she said to her reflection. ‘If Andy walked in now, you wouldn’t let him get his jacket off before you jumped his bones.’ These thoughts were not helping her calm anything, and she sat back down, the pulse in her groin even stronger than before. Emily lay back on the couch imagining Andy was in the room.

Andy stood before her, tall at over six feet, aged around thirty. He had black curly hair and dark eyes. His face was not handsome in a beautiful sense, but when he smiled it lit up the room. He’d dressed in a black leather jacket, check working shirt, and jeans. He looked at her lying back, breathing raggedly, eyes heavy-lidded, mouth dry with anticipation. Andy’s eyes moved down her body, opening wide as he noticed her hard nipples, her splayed legs, and the damp patch in her pajamas. She was embarrassed and aroused at the obvious evidence of her desire, and covered what was left of her modesty, one hand across her breasts and the other at her crotch. “Please don’t cover yourself, Emily. Let me see you,” he sounded desperate.

She undid her pajama jacket slowly, imagining his eyes devouring her large breasts with their pinkish brown nipples. She pushed them together, offering them to him.

“Play with your breasts for me, Emily,” said Andy, his warm, gentle voice unable to disguise his desire.

Emily pinched and tweaked her nipples. She sighed.

Andy groaned when she put her head to her left breast and sucked her own nipple. ‘I need to see all of you Emily, take your trousers off’.

Emily pulled the trousers down but kept her knees together, just a small tuft of blonde pubes poking out above.

Andy frowned. “Show me, Emily, I want to see everything,”

Emily opened her legs until one thigh was on the cushion of the couch and the other against the back. Her swollen pussy lips were open and her juices running. She looked down at the nub of her erect clitoris. She felt like a whore in a porn film, but she did not care, she wanted to drive him mad for her.

Andy groaned and undressed. He had black hair on his chest and a line of it went from his belly button to his groin. ‘Play with yourself for me, Emily. I want to see you come.’

Emily lifted her leg, ankle resting on the top of the couch. She spread her lips with her left hand and inserted three fingers into her wetness. The obscene noises they made as her hand flashed in and out seemed to quell even the noise of the storm. Her thumb flicked across her clitoris and she felt tremors of her orgasm begin.

Andy stood naked before her, his thick cock standing proud of a mass of black pubes, its angry head twitching. He fell upon her, covering her mouth with urgent kisses before moving down her neck and taking one, then the other nipple into his greedy mouth. His breath was as ragged as hers, his mind consumed with lust as his tongue traveled down, dipping into her belly button, warning her of its eventual destination.

She could not wait. Emily’s grabbed a handful of his hair before he was out of reach and pulled him back up. ‘Just fuck me, please Andy,’ she gasped, desperate to feel him inside her.

He got between her thighs and rubbed his cock up and down her open lips, coating himself in her juices and drawing more gasps as he rasped against her clitoris. He teased her until she broke. Her hands reached for his hips, demanding satisfaction. Despite her wetness and the efforts of her own fingers, her pussy stretched to accommodate him. The pleasant, painful ache made her groan as he buried himself to the hilt with a grunt.

Emily grabbed her legs behind the knees, surrendering completely, and Andy thrust into her. He was lost in lust. His arms vertical, balled fists pressing into the sofa cushion, his back arched, head back as he tried to reach deep inside her. His pose reminded her of a giant silverback gorilla, and she shivered at the power of his penetration. He regained control as he got used to her heat and tightness of her pussy and thrust with metronomic precision for the next few minutes. She watched her lips being pushed inside on his downstroke and then grasping him as Andy withdrew. His heavy balls slapped against the wetness running between her thighs, making a noise like wet feet on a swimming pool floor. Emily begged him to speed up and make her come. She squeezed him and felt his balls rise. Andy’s hips became erratic, and she knew he could not stop himself from coming. The roar from his throat moments later left her in no doubt.

Emily’s fingers flashed in and out as she imagined Andy pump into her three, four times. The image released her own pent up orgasm and she screamed loud enough to quell the storm outside. She sat up and clasped her legs, trapping her hand but every time she tried to move; she triggered another orgasm. She felt pain behind her eyes, like they had rolled back in her head. The tremors took ages to subside before Emily removed her hand and slumped back on the couch, bathed in a sheen of perspiration. She felt guilty and happy and slipped into the best sleep she’d had since it happened.

Emily woke with a start, disorientated. She came to and realized she was still on the couch and the phone was ringing. She picked it up.

“Sorry Emily, I should not have phoned back, I’ve woken you.” Andy apologized.

“No, no, there’s no problem,” Emily reassured. “I was just thinking of you,” she added.

“Really, I was in your dreams?”

“Yes, no, I don’t know,” said Emily, embarrassed. She was glad he could not see her face.

“Well, I suppose that makes us even because I have been thinking of you all night,” Andy admitted.

“Really?” She echoed.

“What was I doing.... in your dream?”

“I’m not telling you that. Not that you were doing anything I could not tell you about, I mean, I mean…” she dried up, tongue-tied, listening to his gentle laughter. She could have heated the room with her embarrassment.

“That’s not fair of me, but the truth is you’ve not given me a comfortable night either if you know what I mean?”

Emily smiled at the thought of him sitting there thinking of her and nursing an uncomfortable erection. She did not feel so bad about what she had been doing.

“Listen Emily, the power will soon be back on and the night will be over, I just had to say something to you.” He could hear the anxiety in his voice, not his usual soft measured tones. Emily could hear it too.

“What’s wrong, Andy?” she asked, not wanting to know the answer if it was bad news.

“I might be out of order here, but there are dozens of people in the call centre and we speak to hundreds of customers during a shift, but once in a while, you feel there is a voice you just connect with. There are loads of good reasons you don’t follow up; not least of which is company policy. Do you understand?”

“I think I do, but Andy, take that chance, after all, I’m not the customer, my parents are.”

“Yes, you’re right. You’re not the customer,” he said brightly.

“So, what did you want to ask me?”

“Tell me if I am off the mark, but I think there’s a connection between us, or there could be.”

“I feel the same Andy, but there are some things you need to know about me and I don’t think I could just come out and say them. Can we take this slow?”

“Oh God, Emily, you’ve no idea how relieved I am to hear you say that. My life is not straightforward. No ex-wife and six kids, but there are a few complications that you need to know about before we ever get to meet; just in case you decide you don’t want to.”

“Okay then, I look forward to hearing them. When will I speak to you again Andy?”

“That’s one complication; it will have to be tonight.”

“Are you sure you haven’t got a wife or girlfriend hidden away?” Emily teased.

“No, no, I haven’t, honestly.” He missed her joke, and she was glad it was important to him she believed him.

“That’s okay, tonight is fine. I like the night. Oh look, the lights have come back on.”

Andy recognized the brightness in his office. “I am Caledonian and I have the power.”

“And I am a happily serviced customer,” said Emily. They both realized the double meaning and started laughing.

“Until tonight, Emily?” said Andy.

“Until tonight, Andy,” said Emily.

Emily fell back on the couch with a giddy, fluttery feeling she never thought she would experience again. So, he had his complications, did he? What he would make of her complications if they ever got to where she could tell him. She would have to, after all, he would see for himself. Emily looked at the end of the couch, one foot and slipper sticking out of one pajama leg, the other one knotted halfway up the calf, something missing. She thought for the thousandth time about the coach crash and being trapped in the mangled wreckage. Her holding the fireman’s hand as they cut her out. A blanket hiding her bottom half so she could not see the medics working, but she could tell from his worried face it was something bad. Then waking up in the hospital and not believing it when the doctors said they had to amputate her right leg just below the knee. Of course, she was the same person; she told herself that a million times. She was determined to make the best of her life, but it was so hard to meet people without her disability being the first thing they noticed; the elephant in the room in every conversation. Andy was the first person she met if you could call it that, where it had not become the focal point. She felt good. She would take a chance and judge when the time was right to tell him. Could he deal with her not being as perfect as he sounded?

Andy logged off his terminal and removed his headphones. He enjoyed talking to people, but having to listen to the text reader for all his information was a strain by the end of a long shift. But this one had been better than many; in fact, it had been the best. Customer services might not be everyone’s idea of a good job, but he liked the people at Caledonian Power and his workmates treated him just like one of them. He was doing well once he discovered he had to put them at ease about his blindness. The door to his supervisor’s office opened and the morning shift supervisor Karen came in. Andy turned in his seat.

“Hello Karen, you’re looking good today,” Andy teased.

“Oh, thank you, Andy. But how did you know it was me?”

“I can smell you, Karen.”

“Thanks very much!”

“No, I mean, I can smell the honeysuckle shampoo you like and the lavender in your body spray. I know it’s you.”

“You smoothie Andy, I wish my husband was as observant. Here let me walk you to your cab and you can update me on what happened overnight. There was a big outage. You must have had hundreds of angry callers.”

“Yes, and a few nice ones.”

The lifts were not working yet. They took the back stairs, but mains power had not been restored there either. The system needed resetting. The batteries powering the emergency lighting were almost out.

“It’s very dark here, I don’t like it. Oh, sorry Andy.”

“That’s all right Karen, there’s no need to be so sensitive about offending me. If I say it, it’s okay for you to say it. I say I’ll see you tomorrow, but that has not been true since I was fourteen.”

“You weren’t blind from birth?” asked Karen, now more comfortable with the subject.

“No, that’s courtesy of a drunk driver.” Andy wondered how he would get that fact into conversation with Emily.

“Bastard,” said Karen. “I’ve just noticed, you’re leading me down this dark corridor and I’m hanging on to you for dear life.”

“That’s okay Karen, you are safe with me.” She squeezed his arm and moved closer to him as they continued around the back of the building. They arrived in Reception; he could tell by the echoes of their voices in the open space of the atrium. “Here we are, safe and sound.”

“I feel so useless, thank you, Andy.” She kissed him on the cheek. “Amir is here to take you home. I’ll see you tomorrow.”

“Not if I see you first Karen.”

“Stop it, Andy” He could hear the laughter in her voice.

#

“Long night, Andy? We had no power all night,” said Amir as they drove away.

“I know Amir, but I’m off duty now.”

“Yeah, sorry.”

“Amir, did you phone up last night, swearing in a fake Irish accent?”

“No, I did not!”

“Must have been your brother then,” said Andy with a smile.

“Sod off, Andy. Remember, I’ll be back around yours at 2 pm to take your mum to her dialysis.”

“Thanks. I forgot about that.” That was another thing he would have to explain to Emily, his daycare for his invalid mother. Andy knew he would never be a catch of the day, and a girl like Emily would not be short of better offers, but he would have always regretted not asking her. You’ve got to look on the bright side, even if you don’t see the sun? That was his motto. He would have to ask Emily what she thought of that. At some time in the future. For now, he sat back in the seat and conjured up the mental picture of her he had formed during their conversations. A perfect body to go with a perfect voice. How could it be otherwise?