Chapter 10

He hurried in, but she was not in the bedroom as he expected, so he tried the bathroom. Prudence was kneeling naked in the empty tub, with one arm resting on the side. She looked very appealing as the Venus of the bath, but she was truly frustrated.

“Reg, I can’t get myself out of the bath! It is too slippery, and my balance is not good at the moment. Can you help me?”

She turned her body to face him, again displaying her small breasts in front of him. He took a sharp breath, but concentrated on the task of helping her out. He stood beside the bath and offered his arm as a support. He was ready to grab her if she slipped, but wanted her to get out by her own efforts.

Prudence grabbed his arm, and used it as a handhold for standing. To make herself secure in that vertical position, she spread her feet wider, and in so doing exposed her crotch, but she ignored that entirely. Her attention was in getting out safely.

Reg leaned back a little once he felt she had a secure footing, allowing her to lift a leg over the side and on to the bath mat. With a little help she swung the other leg over and stood on the mat with a sigh of relief.

Reg was about to let her go, but her balance was still unsure, and she held tight onto him. “Get me the towel, Reg. I’ll hold on to the bath in the meantime.”

He left her, fetched the large towel he now knew was a bath sheet and swung it round her back to wrap her in it. She felt wonderful as he did this, and pulled it tight around her body. There was a bathroom stool nearby, so she indicated she wanted to sit there. Reg helped her over and she sat down in relief.

“Shall I leave you to dry yourself, Prudence?”

“If you don’t mind, Reg ... thanks.”

“I never got around to asking, ‘how’s the head?’”

“Thumping a bit, but not too badly, Reg. Being sick was much worse, and my stomach still feels sore from retching. Any chance of a hot drink with honey in it?”

“Great idea. Hot lemon, with two teaspoons of honey dissolved in it?”

“Sounds good. It will soothe my throat, and help my tummy too, I hope.”

“Right. Hot drink coming up, as soon as possible.”

He turned to leave, but she said, “Reg? How do I look now?”

He turned back to look at her, and she had opened the towel wide, to display herself full frontal, legs wide apart. He stared at her body, and her matted wet hair on top and below, and remarked, “You look lovely, Prudence. Thank you for the view.”

He rushed off now, embarrassed. Prudence smiled to herself. He actually meant it, she told herself. He finds me lovely!

She towelled herself dry, then shuffled back to the bedroom, to put on the borrowed underwear Frances had laid out for her. She was grateful for that kindness even if it was a bit loose on her. On top she donned yesterday’s clothes, as that was all she had with her, and no other girl here was her skinny size.

She made her way gingerly down the stairs to join Reg in the living room. He was ensconced in an armchair, wrapped up in his book. “Hi, Reg.” she announced her presence to him.

He jumped to his feet. “Where do you want to sit, Prudence? Is the light too bright?”

She told him that the light was okay, but that she wanted a soft chair to curl up in, as she was still feeling very frail. He offered the armchair he was using. “I have kept it warm for you. I can sit anywhere, Prudence. Your hot drink will be ready in two minutes; the kettle has already been boiled to heat up your lemon drink, and the honey is on the table ready to add.”

“Thanks, Reg. I am ready for that.” As he worked on producing the specified drink, she wondered what he had been reading.

On being asked, he replied, “It is a basic book on geomorphology, called ‘The surface of the earth’, and it is quite fascinating. The subject had been primarily descriptive up to the 1930s, but the advent of war resulted in a demand for information about processes affecting beaches in particular, so that judgements could be made about where to make amphibious landings of invasion forces. Aerial photography also demanded information to assist in interpreting what was observed in the images. So the scientists had to get their skates on and come up with answers.

They studied beaches in the UK, to get benchmark data, and work out how shores eroded, which coastline features were more stable, and what constituents of sediments on a river or beach made for ground you could depend on or could not depend on.

Shifting sands were useless when you wanted to land an army. You needed well-compacted beaches to take the weight of landing craft and equipment such as tracked vehicles as well as lorries and guns. War drove the development of geomorphology just as much as the high-tech sciences that we usually hear about. That was a surprise to me.”

“Fascinating,” agreed Prudence. “How did they know whether a beach was suitable?”

“You can get a good idea based on where the sediments are coming from. If you have cliffs, eroded and fallen rock gets graded by the waves, with grain size getting smaller as you move away from the cliff face. In the case of flatter land, without cliffs, the beach is primarily made up from river deposits, and the shorter and steeper a river flows, the larger the size of sand and gravel grains. The longest rivers deposit fine-grained silt and mud because of the longer time of transport down the length of the river. The lighter stuff flows more easily.”

“It makes sense,” agreed Prudence. Reg handed her the hot drink, which she began to sip carefully.

“Yes”, said Reg. “That is why the longest rivers end up as deltas that keep shifting their channels. It is fine silt and mud, so easily moved about. The short rivers, producing larger-grained sand, have the sand moved along the sea coast by waves, and end up as sandy beaches many miles from the river estuary.”

He went back to his book while Prudence finished her hot drink. The combination of a hot bath, a comfy chair, and a warm house, along with her migraine exhaustion made her drowsy and she drifted off to sleep in the chair.

When Reg finally noticed that she was snoring, he got up and went to find something to cover her with. He remembered he had a dressing gown in his bedroom, so went and got it. Returning, he carefully laid it over Prudence, up to her neck. He was aware that a thin person cools down more rapidly than a beefy one, and he wanted her to sleep as much as possible. Frances had told him that sleeping was the best way to get through a migraine.

Around lunchtime Prudence began to stir. As she stretched, she found that her muscles were sore, and she still did not feel well; so decided to remain as she was. She sniffed at an unfamiliar faint aroma, and finally became aware that the dressing gown covering her had a man smell to it. She decided it smelled nice, and drifted off to sleep again.

By mid-afternoon her stomach began to demand some sustenance, and she came awake. Reg was in the same place, apparently with the same book, and he looked up as she moved.

“Hello. Are you with us again? How are you feeling?” He had been learning from the girls about enquiring as to the health of acquaintances, and was now quite adept at it.

“Oh, hi, Reg. I feel tired and sore, but hungry. Can I have something light? Can you make scrambled egg?”

His face lit up. “I have been doing that for years! A couple of eggs, scrambled with salt and pepper, with an oatcake if I can find one in the house?”

“Sounds wonderful. You’ll make someone a fine wife!” She smiled at her little joke. He took it more seriously, but riposted, “I have been cooking for myself for so long that I have become a couple all by myself.” He caught himself, and added softly, “until very recently.” He left it at that, but Prudence understood him.

“Having three women interested in you must be wonderful, then?”

“You don’t know the half of it,” he replied, then subsided, saying in apparent explanation, “They have been very good to me.” He fell silent, hoping he had made amends for what he nearly said.

Prudence commented, “For a man who has been a loner for years, you do small talk quite well, Reg.”

He perked up. “Yes, the girls have been teaching me, in return for tutoring. It has been a good exchange deal for me.”

“You seem to be a good teacher, Reg. Just the way you told me about beach sediments, you made it interesting; not just a bunch of facts.”

“Uh, thanks. I just find most subjects interesting, and in the past I had to keep my enthusiasm to myself. The girls let me bring it out, and I enjoy telling them what they want to know.”

“That is the perfect background for a teacher. Reg, have you thought about what you want to do when you finish university?”

“I have not looked that far ahead. My attention has been primarily on my studies, and not beyond.”

“Well, I think you do need to round out your education, to become a good social person. The girls appear to be working on that quite well.”

“Yes, that is so. I used to be so reticent, and now I talk too much! We should be talking about you, Prudence, the girls tell me.”

“At the moment, Reg, I am trying to avoid thinking about myself and how I feel, but can I remind you about the scrambled eggs?”

He started. “Damn. I forgot. I lost track. I’ll get on to it now.” He left for the kitchen.

By late afternoon, when the others finally got back from the university, Prudence was awake again, having dozed for most of the day. She was still cuddled up in Reg’s dressing gown, still feeling a bit nauseous, but not as ill as she had been.

Reg heard the car doors slamming, then the front door opened, and Frances’ voice called jauntily, “Honey, I’m home!”, followed by laughter from the other two. They entered, still chattering away together, to find Reg standing there with an apron on his front. He had prepared for this very moment.

“There you are! I’ve been slaving away all day over a hot stove... !”

They all laughed at his antics. “Well done, Reg!” exclaimed Frances. Then she sobered up, “You haven’t actually been preparing a meal, have you?”

“Not yet. It is a bit early, but I thought I could do a fry-up, if you thought you could stomach it. I investigated the freezer, and you have frozen bacon, square sausage, and potato waffles, so along with the eggs in the fridge, we have all the makings. I often add some baked beans to the fry-up as well, if I am hungry.”

Erika declared, “Wow! A real house-husband, girls.” She came forward to give him a hug and a kiss, to be followed by Frances and Freda.

Frances asked him, “How is Prudence doing?”

“Come and ask her yourself, darling. She is up and in an easy chair.”

They rushed into the living room, finding Prudence peering out of the dressing gown, looking a little the worse for wear.