Uncle Frank, Pauline, Sex, and Me
Copyright© 2024 by Fatbastard
Chapter 33
Coming of Age Sex Story: Chapter 33 - Coming of Age in 1960s New Zealand. My father's much younger brother guided and mentored me from early adolescence through my teenage years and a series of girlfriends. While each story can stand alone, readers will get most out of this series if they read chronologically starting with Andrea, and progressing through Bronwyn and Robyn to my adventures with Pauline
Caution: This Coming of Age Sex Story contains strong sexual content, including mt/ft Teenagers Consensual Romantic Heterosexual Fiction Farming School Vignettes First Oral Sex Petting
December 1962
I couldn’t decide whether I was disappointed or relieved when Mum’s car pulled up, and I got out of Harriet and stood beside her as she unlocked the front door. She looked at me but didn’t speak, and for a moment I wondered whether I should ask, just accompany her inside, or wait for an invitation. It seemed like a fraught choice, but I decided the least risky option was just to follow her in.
I did, and Mum ignored me until we got through to the kitchen. She nodded towards a chair and made a cup of tea. She looked really sad, but made an effort to smile as she opened a packet of biscuits.
“I have been hoping you’d come.” I tried to smile, but in fact I felt like crying. She sighed and went on. “I know you didn’t mean to hurt us, but from our end, it felt like a slap in the face to hear the news from Mum.”
“I’m really sorry. It wasn’t important to me, and I didn’t give a thought to anyone else. That was self-centered and stupid. I mentioned it in passing when I wrote to Sandra. And her mum and Grandma June are thick as thieves. I must have seemed as if I didn’t recognise how much you have supported me and encouraged me. Sort of like when I didn’t tell you about making the First Soccer XI.” Mum nodded and I went on. “That was different. At that stage I didn’t think you guys were very interested in my Soccer. I was wrong.”
Mum wrinkled her brow. “Different?”
“Yes. I know how interested in my progress you are and how supportive of my studies you have been. As soon as I thought about you and the Grandkerrs it was obvious you would be interested and delighted and you would want to celebrate my success. But I wasn’t impressed with the prizes, and I didn’t think about the family. I’m sad about that.” I heaved a big sigh, and both of us teared up.
We both stood up and moved to hug each other, That was really nice, and after a few minutes and a few sniffles, I wiped my nose on my sleeve, and Mum dropped back into parental role.
“Haven’t you got a handkerchief?”
I’d been away from home for a couple of years, and didn’t stop to think “Yup - you wanna borrow it?”
For a second or so, I thought I’d gone too far, but Mum laughed. “Habit. Sorry!”
“You’ll always be my mum, and I know that you love me.” We both laughed, and had another hug, this one without tears.
“Will you stay for tea? Your father will be home before too long. We have chops and there’s enough for you.”
“Yes please!”
Dad had obviously recognised Harriet parked outside. He smiled as he came towards me with his hand outstretched. We shook.
“Thank you for coming.”
“Have to try to make it right when I screw up. You’ve always been very clear about that.” I glanced at Mum. “Both of you.”
“Glad we did something right.” There was a trace of bitterness in dad’s tone, and for a moment, I didn’t know what to say, but Mum reached out to put a hand on his arm.
“Ekkie love – it’s okay. You’re a lot harder on yourself than anyone else is.”
I still didn’t know what to say, but felt I had to say something. “You did lots and lotsa things right. You supported me and loved me from the start. You gave me a strong moral compass.” Dad’s body stiffened slightly, and I hurried on. “You gave me a very strong work ethic that has given me a chance to make the best of my brain.”
Dad relaxed, and Mum produced another ‘cuppa’. We took it through to the lounge and dunked biscuits while she cooked and Dad and I commiserated about the performance of the New Zealand cricket team until she called us to the table.
Mum had got fancy. Most of our meals when I lived at home were nutritious and tasty and easily prepared, but her training and experience as a cook had given her the skills to ‘jazz up’ the simple dishes she usually served to family, and she clearly regarded this meal as a celebration. There was even a ‘splash’ of McWilliams Sweet Sherry in the pineapple cut crystal glasses that the Henleys had given Mum ‘n Dad as a wedding present.
We raised our glasses in a toast to my success, and that was fine. Then I ventured a toast to my ‘learning to be more thoughtful and mature.’ That wasn’t so good. Dad’s face crumpled and his eyes overflowed. He sat at the table making no effort to hide his distress. Mum did something different. I had seen Dad cry a few times before, and I understood it was caused by his ‘shell shock’. But previously, every time Dad had got upset to the point of tears, Mum had taken him away, whether to save him embarrassment or to try (unsuccessfully) to hide his distress from me.
This time, she just reached out to take his hand. “What is it love?”
Dad turned towards her. “I’ve tried, I’ve really tried.” He turned back to me, but kept his eyes down. “I was disappointed when you gave up rugby, but like I told you, I didn’t feel competent to be involved with your soccer. When I got involved with the fitness program for your team, I really hoped that we could get closer, and that went really well until you got concussion again. I don’t blame you at all for giving up soccer, but I’m really sad that we lost that opportunity for having time together.”
“I liked it when you were teaching me not to get hit. The self defence stuff. Situational awareness.”
Dad brightened slightly. “Would you like to do more of that?”
I thought hard. I originally got into that stuff with him as a result of pressure from Frank and Grandad Kerr after being ‘sucker punched’, and what I had learned was undoubtedly useful, but that was enough. Dad correctly interpreted my silence as reluctance, and looked disappointed. I thought some more. “Is there something else?”
“I got into fencing for a while after I was concussed. Teaches you a lot about timing and distance.”
“Why didn’t you carry on?”
Mum cut in. “Basically you’re the reason. When I fell pregnant with you, we decided we couldn’t afford the gear. It’s expensive!” Dad nodded silently.
I thought about the winter term next year. No soccer. Hard to stay fit. Versus the chance to swashbuckle! Fighting with a sword! Time with Dad! What’s not to like? “Would you like to get into fencing with me? We can both afford it now!”
He nodded. “The Jean-Paul salle used to have club night on Tuesday and Thursday nights. It meets all year round, but we could start in the winter term next year.” He paused. “Unless you’d like to start sooner?”
“Dunno how it will go with cricket next year. We could go and have a look.” My mention of cricket and ‘next year’ prompted another thought. “Is there more sherry? There’s something else we might want to celebrate.”
“Mum laughed. “Tell us first. What might we want to celebrate?”
“Next year I’ll be a prefect, and Captain of the First Cricket Eleven!”
She giggled. “Congratulations. That’s terrific! Do you reckon that’s worth two more glasses?”
“Not if I’m driving!”
We had another ‘little splash’ of sherry, and a really nice hug together. Then I drove home feeling much better about myself and the world. I don’t think it was the sherry.
And that left Frank. Somehow my conversation with Emma had thrown some light on Frank’s anger and my making peace with the rest of the family had gone a long way towards expiating (looked it up) most of my guilt. In consequence, I wasn’t feeling much like eating a large serving of crow to help assuage Frank’s discomfort around a family upset. He rang that evening, and cut straight to the chase.
“There’s work tomorrow if you want it.”
I didn’t want to argue. “Eight o’clock?”
“See you then.”
I rang Pauline. She was interested in how my apologies had gone down, and cautioned me about being anything less than contrite with Frank. “He gives you work and somewhere to live. Don’t blow it!”
I didn’t. I knew how to behave when things weren’t quite right, and so did Frank. We were ‘delicate’ around each other for the next couple of days, but eventually, both of us seemed to drop our remaining resentment. There was certainly plenty of work. Word of mouth recommendations produced four or five calls a week, and although there were no answering machines in those days, Emma was almost always home to take them. Life slipped back into a regular and familiar routine, with Pauline spending two or three nights a week in my bed.
Things changed again before Xmas. Beth had been managing Mary’s World for more than a year, and (as we later learned) had got ‘inside information’ that the liquor licensing laws were about to change. Her family had money, and were willing to finance her into the purchase of the business in the belief that Mary’s World would quickly get a liquor license and make a killing. Beth offered Frank and Emma two thousand pounds for the business. Lease, stock, fittings, remaining insurance, and goodwill. Settlement in seven days.