Chapter 3

At Carlton Manor, Iris and I were reclining in sun chairs, secluded by shrubs and flowers.

The azure blue sky was traced with high stratus and the scent of Jasmine was in the air.

Here within the grounds of Carlton Manor life felt far from the madness of the TV studio; from which I had obtained leave which I was due.

And after a simple reunion with Ben just earlier, Ralph had taken him off somewhere.

It made me smile with relief at how short our trauma had been and another landscape opening here at the Manor for us both.

Now I could chat with Iris about Ben’s prospects of working through the summer here at the manor.

I found Iris an attractive woman with fair bubbly hair and hazel eyes that sparkled while she spoke. Her voice had unmistakable breeding and the polo jumper she wore failed to conceal her fine shapely figure. This was a woman I felt I could admire.

“There’s plenty for Ben to take on here Margo.” Iris was saying, “The war-effort took the last of our workers away some while ago.”

As I listened, I felt naturally at ease with her and found her enthusiasm in the face of austerity infectious as she spoke on,

“Oh Margo, There’s so much I want to show you here. It’s an ideal place for our lads to share together this summer. I’m sure you’ll feel the same in a day or so and I have a lovely little room ready for you”

Iris would have to be in her mid thirties like myself yet had that confidence of a woman in control. She was wearing jodhpurs and as we came up to the stable yard it occurred to me she rode horses. “Do you ride much Iris?” I asked peering into the stable.

“Only a hack round the lanes when the weather’s OK; how about yourself?”

“Well, I sometimes get my bike out on a fine day.” I quipped, “How many horses are there?” I inquired.

Iris laughed, “Only my own now, he’s grazing in the meadow: several were stabled here before the war but with the price of hay in the winter...”

“Ben said your husband was an officer in the war effort abroad; is he due any leave Iris?” I asked cautiously.

There was an uncomfortable silence before she answered.

“Ronald was lost in Afghanistan over six months ago Margo.” She replied evenly.

“I’m so sorry.” I mumbled awkwardly, my blunder causing me to blush.

Iris slid her hand through my arm. It’s OK Margo ... really, she said simply, “Come on! Lets show you the kitchen garden.”

Later, in the cool of the library we relaxed into deep cushioned armchairs and with each of us holding a generous glass of brandy Iris took a deep sigh and began quietly recounting her life at the Manor to me.

“Ronald and I took over the Manor when we married. It was a bit run down.

But we got things going; and Ralph was born.” Iris sighed at fond memories. “The place became busy with people working and we were happy with how things were shaping up. Then the war came.”

Iris paused to sip her brandy and I remained silent; knowing she had more to say.

“The Royal Navy recalled Simon and before long I hardly saw him. Oh, the occasional flurry of leave; then a return to the prudence widowhood.

I missed Ronald; but I was lonely and fed up to be honest.”

She paused with a look of wry bitterness.

“Or to speak plainly Margo. I became sex-starved.”

Iris looks at me boldly,” Tell me Margo, has the war deprived you of sex?”

I put down my glass; surprised at her candour. Yet suddenly I felt activated.

“Why damit Iris, Yes It has!” I declared wryly, “ I’ve been starved of sex! Why I even get envious if I see dogs at it in the street! “ I said unflinchingly.”