Storms of passions

Tired as he may be, the fact both of them had seen a ghost outside the hut intrigued Helmut, perhaps Jannine’s ghost had been caused by his closeness and her remembrances of Ian but what about him? He had never heard of Ian before tonight, why did he see the ghost?

He was a seaman and superstitious by nature of the job; things at sea or not always what you may think they are, spray can distort the light and lights in the night cannot always be explained away as passing ships. After finishing his coffee, he decided the only way to appease his curiosity was to take another look, he drank the last mouthful and grabbed the coat which Jannine had brought for him, wrapping it around his tired, muscular frame; he went out into the storm to try and get another glance at the spectre. He opened the hut door and was immediately hit by the chill in the wind, as he shivered and pulled the coat closer into his body, he thought, “I hope Jannine got back to ‘The Pot’ safe.”

Helmut walked around the hut and looked out to the point, trying to find out if the ghost had returned; in the black of the night, he could see no further than his arm’s length and the only noises he heard were the thunderous roar of the tide on the beach, “What did I expect to find?” he muttered as he went back in the hut, “the problem remains was he there?”

He closed the door, even though closing the door served little purpose; over the years the wood had shrank and the winds drove the rains through the gaps. Too tired to make a fresh pot of coffee, he went to his room and undressed for bed. Tired and aching he may be, but Jannine had aroused long dead passions in Helmut; he lay on the bed for a while, sleep wasn’t easy when such a pretty young girl roamed your mind; her image kept bringing thoughts of making love with her and he realised that hard as he may fight the truth, she turned him on; his manhood twitched at the thought of seeing her young, tender body naked next to him as he rolled over to fondle her tight young breasts.

He drifted in and out of a semi-dozing sleep for hours; he wanted to make love to Jannine but he remained unsure how much she wanted him. She had said she wanted to feel his body close to hers and to tend his sores, cuts and bruises but did she pine for Ian or did she want him?

The hard rains pelted the windows and made the panes rattle in the old putty joins, even in this wretched state he was still grateful to the locals for its use; cold and windy his shelter may be, but any port in a storm.

He rose in the morning with a tired body still sore from the chill of the icy seas and stiff fingers, the cold penetrated him so thoroughly he had got chilled to the bone and realised he needed the inner warmth of a hot meal as much as he needed dry clothing. The only food in the hut were some sandwiches from last night which Jannine had brought down with them, “Better than nothing,” he muttered as he ate them; the coffee started to work its magic and slowly warmed him but he knew he needed to work outside and repair his shelter and he would require some hot food for energy and to keep the winds out.

The gray dawn of a winter’s day made a slow entrance and Helmut sat on his bed wondering where he should start the work which he had to do, as he walked around assessing what needed to be repaired he kept an eye out for Jannine, she had said that she would tend his cuts and bruises today and the icy winds where biting into his skin and making the possibility of work a daunting task, but it had to be done and soon.

The pier is a long, thin stretch of land which sticks out in the sea and the beach on either side is a mass of pebbles and stones, among these Helmut noted some pieces of driftwood and broken planking which he may be able to use for quick repairs. He finished his coffee and took a stroll along the beach, picking up what pieces he was able to and stopping now and then to glance out to sea. From the look of the skies and the high winds of last night, he was in no doubt in a few days or a week at the most; there would be snow on his roof. He made his first journey quite well, he ached in places he didn’t realise he had but the journey was made in good time, as he was going down for the second trip he saw Jannine leaving ‘The Pot,’ he knew she would be with him in the near future, he had a choice to make; either wait for her or try to get the next load up and meet her on his return?

While he thought about the decision, the decision got taken out of his hands by a knock on the door, “Can I come in, Helmut?” Jannine called.

“Certainly, push the door but mind the puddles; I was about to try and seal the holes in the door first. You were quick, after last night I didn’t expect you for another ten minutes, Jannine.”

Jannine giggled and replied, “Last night we had to contend with driving rain and the high winds, so we kept to the main path down here. Today, I took a shortcut which took a few minutes off the time and I could walk faster.”

Jannine came in, her black hair flowing over her shoulders like a witches shawl as she bewitched him; she walked over to the window and put her arms around her man; slowly turning him to her she said, “How was your night?”

Helmut stretched his muscular arms around her, encompassing her young body in his strong, sensual frame and replied, “Restless. I had dreams about this young girl.”

“What did she do?”

“She cared for this seaman and as she tends his sore body, they grew together and loved each other.”

“Your dream sounded romantic, what happened?”

Helmut frowned and said, “Nothing, I kept waking and wondering did you want me?”

Jannine moved in close and hugged the rugged sailor, whispering in his ear, “I do want you. I have since I first saw you.”

Helmut let her hair drift across his face as he held her close and kissed her and he whispered, “I wasn’t sure if you were pining for Ian, it is understandable.”

“Silly man,” she giggled, “of course I pine for him but my love for you is different. Now take that shirt and sweater off, before you make me do the job for you,” then she winked and licked her lips at the thought.