Chapter 9

I met up with old friends for a drink in the Dog and Burger (a pub unsure whether to be modern or old). We talked and eyed the talent. I didn’t do anything stupid. The next day, mum was talking over the fence to Mrs Antrobous. I heard myself being dropped in it, big time. “I’m sure he wouldn’t mind, and I’m next door anyway. I’ll call him. John? John!!!” why do mothers always do that? Call once and then call again immediately before you could possibly reply. I walked out, greeted Mrs Antrobous, told her that, yes, America was great, yes, I was glad to be back; all the usual guff (I mean, I’m not going to say I hated being back was I? Even if it was true, which it wasn’t, though I was already looking forward to returning to my new life in the New World. I had re-invented myself a little, now I was back, and all my old mistakes were back to haunt me). “John, Marjorie has to go out to her mother’s and Dan is away this week.” shit! I could see what was coming. “Would you mind awfully sitting in for the afternoon and overnight?” Why couldn’t my mum do it? I wondered, Tracie Antrobous was an annoying little cow, and her sister was in training to be as bad when I left. I smiled and agreed that of course I had nothing planned, having been away for a year; of course I wouldn’t have been planning to meet people or catch up on old haunts. I mean what else does a young man have to do except baby sitting?

“Feel free to invite a friend round.” said Mrs Antrobous. I rang up Ang. Angela Traub-Martin and I had been a ‘thing’ when we were thirteen, she dumped me for an older man – fourteen. But we stayed friends. She was delighted to hear from me, laughed at my problems, and agreed to come over and see my pictures of the USA. I edited them, half of them were of girls. I was keeping a record of each girl I slept with, each female conquest, I should say, since the bridge club were in there too. I even had a picture of the nine year old from the zoo. That could be evidence if anyone charged me, but I didn’t do anything so it was fine. It was summer, Ang had a job in a fashion shop in town. We arranged that she would come over after; with suitably careful approaches to the house so people didn’t see, even though Mrs Antrobous said it was fine. I mentioned to Mum that I was taking up Mrs Antrobous’s suggestion. Mum looked doubtful. She probably thought I should sit reading – not watching TV in case I corrupted the girls.

Mum wasn’t sure, “No parties now.” I didn’t mention that the friend was a girl. Mum would have been sure then, in a negative way. I went round at 2pm and met Tracie and Debbie. Tracie had grown up and out in a year, she was as tall as me but with bigger tits (I’m pleased to say), maybe C cup? Impressive for a fifteen year old. She saw me looking.

“I seem to have grown since you left.”

“Yes. And you’ve grown too, Debbie.” Debbie, a fourteen year old sour faced teenager who didn’t want to be looked after.

“I don’t need looking after by some idiot like you, so stop checking me out and fucking leave me alone.” was her response. I actually hadn’t been checking her out, until she said that. Yes, she had shape; aside from her face like a sour cherry, she was quite attractive.

Actually why did they need looking after? I wondered. Too late now. Mrs A left, and the girls vanished, and I watched daytime tv until my brain started leaking out of my ears from the sheer inane idiocy of the cretins who think that watching people trying to buy antiques, houses, or cars is entertaining (fifteen minutes); and then I read a book. At six, Ang arrived and the two girls appeared to check her out. An evil thought began to circulate in my head. By half past six, with slices of pizza all round, I took the decision and unleashed the pheromone. I know it was irresponsible, but Ang wasn’t in a relationship, Tracie had been horrible to me before I left a year ago, and Debbie had been rude. I figured I was in the right side of the moral fence (since I’d built the fence, it was quite movable). There was a danger that Mum would send Dad to check out if everything was okay. I locked the doors so he’d have to knock. Perfectly sensible for safety, didn’t want people walking in uninvited. At eight, Ang rang home and said she was staying with a friend. At five past eight, we were all upstairs; Ang was in her bra and pants in the girls’ room and sucking my cock whilst Debbie was rimming her sister on Debbie’s bed. There was a knock. I told them to stay quiet, dressed, and went down stairs. Sure enough, there was Dad.