Mr Jones

Mr Jones sat in the luxurious seat, watching the clouds rolling past the small, oval window. The seaplane, better known as a flying boat, was almost at its journey's end. Just a few more hours and the last nine days could be put behind him. He subconsciously touched his briefcase by his feet and adjusted his Investigation Branch commissioned suit as his eyes drifted, once again, to the young woman who sat across the aisle. She had fallen asleep, and his eyes could not help but gaze at her shapely calves and wonder what lay beneath the crumpled beige skirt. As if she sensed she was being watched, her eyes flickered open, and a small smile crept across her mouth.

“Staring again, Mr Jones?”

Coughing with the distinct discomfort of a person who had been caught out, he turned his face towards the window, hiding the blush rising in his cheeks. He felt it as she slid into the seat next to him. Her lithe body slipped into his space, her perfume filled his nostrils.

“I was simply checking on you, Dorothy.”

She tucked a few stray tendrils of blonde hair behind her ears.

“Oh, I know that Mr Jones. You’ve been nothing but a gentleman on this flight. It has been so nice to simply chat with someone about home. I simply cannot wait to get back home. I think it is quite inevitable that war will break out at any moment.”

“Unfortunately, I fear you are correct.” He attempted a stoic, handsome sort of look, hoping to offer her some comfort. He enjoyed feeling powerful.

Tears welled in her clear blue eyes and she spoke with despair. “I’m sure the headlines will read: War Begins June 1939! What would happen if war has been declared already and we simply don’t know it yet? Being trapped up in the sky, looking down upon the world, what’s a young girl to do?”

Mr Jones slowly reached across and took her hands that were laying limply in her lap. “It will all be fine, Dorothy. We are almost home to England. The Great Empire route at its conclusion. I promise to make sure you get home to your family before I attend to my own business.”

He lost his breath as she looked up at him and licked her lips. She looked back down, coyly. Mr Jones smiled.

“You’ve been such a comfort to me on this trip. I would like to share something with you.” She leapt up and he was able to take in her shapely behind as she moved back to her own seat. She returned with a small package.

Subconsciously, he checked his briefcase with his foot again. He smiled as she shuffled back into the seat next to him.

“You might find this hard to believe, Mr Jones, but I have a terrible weakness for chocolate.” She delicately unwrapped the final piece of chocolate cake.

“I wouldn’t normally share”, she giggled mischievously, “But I think you are someone I would like to share this with”.

“I would be delighted. It would be rude to refuse such an offer, especially by such a beautiful woman”. He was curious to see her reaction to his bold statement and breathed a sigh of relief when she smiled at him. He was pleasantly surprised when she held the piece to his lips and slowly pushed it into his mouth, letting her finger be gently sucked as she removed it. She smiled at him as he let the delicious warmth spread through his mouth. He swallowed and she lifted her hand to his cheek and stroked it.

“Dorothy, I worry you are too forward,” he said with a chuckle, “Let me feed you”.

“I think I get far more pleasure watching you, Mr Jones. Would you like some more?”

Mr Jones had never, in his wildest dreams, thought he would be enjoying being fed by the most beautiful woman he had ever seen. He was looking forward to taking her to dinner and then finding a discreet place to-

“Is something wrong, Mr Jones?” Dorothy said with concern as he started to cough. He cleared his throat.

“No, my dear, I think some simply caught in my throat”. His foot felt for the briefcase once again. It was still there. He had had no trouble on the trip. He had no reason for suspicion.

“You seem distracted, Mr Jones. Are you sure you are alright?”

He’d started to sweat profusely. He went to speak but found he could not.

“Can you move, Mr Jones?”

He tried to move his hand but found it heavy and unable to lift.

“Oh, I can still see your fingers moving. Just a few more minutes and you’ll be completely paralysed. I do love chocolate, don’t you?”

Mr Jones sat still. Inside, his mind raced. What was happening? He felt foggy. He tried to concentrate but his thoughts kept running away.

“I have loved this journey with you. Although, Mr Jones, I was surprised to find you would be so forward with a complete stranger.”

His mind screamed. He’d been such a fool!

“Rest assured, I will look after those documents.”

He felt her sigh as she snuggled into his chest.

“I mean, you never even questioned me. I couldn’t believe my luck.”

His limbs were leaden. It was getting harder to breathe. He tried to feel for the briefcase but felt nothing. He was fading.

“It’s been a pleasure, Mr Jones.” She stood up and went to leave. Suddenly she turned back, bent over and whispered, “I’m really Dorothea Melhaus but everyone calls me Dorothy. I find it sits better with the public, especially with what’s coming.”

She kissed his cheek and closed his eyes. Her soft laughter filled his brain, and her perfume filled his nostrils. The sweet taste of chocolate lingering in his mouth as he melted into the darkness and fell into nothingness.