Chapter 1

The building seemed shudderingly cold compared to outside, when the Robertson family arrived home. They had left the heating system on for frost protection alone; it would only switch on if the temperature went below five degrees Celsius, and cut itself off at six. It felt that the whole building was still far less than ten degrees, and probably was.

Frances shivered as they entered and told her husband, “Reg, go put the heating system to something tolerable, dear.” He hurried ahead to the boiler temperature controls to turn the timer from frost protection to ON. That would start the boiler into immediate action and keep it running until the room radiators were up to the comfortable temperature they were set for.

Behind him, Freda, Erika and Prudence followed Frances, all laden with their other luggage, negotiating their way past the suitcases that Reg had dropped near the door. They, too, shivered and Prudence urged Frances, “It’s cold in here. How about putting the kettle on for a warming cuppa, Frances?”

She bobbed her head in acknowledgement. “Good idea, Prudence. I’ll do that. Get Reg to bring the rest of the luggage in, will you? I don’t think there is much more, except ... are all the pressies still in the cars?”

“I assume so. We’ll get them in soon, one way or the other. Freda? Are you with me on that?”

Freda walked inside and dropped her bags on the carpet. “With what, Prudence? The presents?”

“Yeah, while we have our coats on. The tea will take some time, waiting for the kettle to boil. I think Reg has gone to switch the heating on, so he will be back shortly.

Frances will get some eats to go with the tea, I hope. Let’s get the stuff in before a rain shower comes on. Thank God it is not likely to snow.”

Erika was left with the bags. She said, just for herself, “I suppose this means I am bag carrier in the interim, or will someone come to help me eventually?” She started moving the first pile further indoors, so that no-one would trip over them. As soon as Reg got back, she would ask him to deliver those to their rooms. She hoped he would not be long, and she took several light ones upstairs while waiting for him.

As it happened, he took about five minutes before he finally appeared, and Erika complained, petulantly, “Where did you get to, Reg? I was waiting for you.”

“Oh, sorry about that, Erika my darling. After switching on the heating, I just took a quick tour round the house, checking for any break-in attempts. I didn’t expect to find any, and I didn’t, but it was best to check. Abject apologies for the delay, Erika.”

She placed a hand on his cheek, tenderly. “That was a wise thought, Reg. In that case, I forgive you. Now, can you give me a hand in getting these bags up to our rooms? The teapot should be hot and ready for us by the time we get that done.”

“Right. Which are the heaviest ones?” Erika pointed them out and he loaded himself before heading upstairs with these first ones. For speed, he decided to deposit them outside the owners’ bedrooms, and get back down for more. They could be moved inside the rooms later, by him or the girls.

Erika sorted out the remainder into which bedroom they went, placing them at the foot of the stairs, making space in the front hall for Prudence and Freda’s return with the Christmas presents they had received on their travels. There was quite a collection, as all five had been given presents at each house they had visited. Even Reg’s widowed mother had done her best: hand-knitted gifts of colour-coded warm bobble hats for the girls and a patterned pullover for Reg.

Frances came back to help, telling Erika, “The kettle is filled and on, near the boil, and I have laid out some Club chocolate biscuits on a plate. Is there stuff still to come in from the cars?”

“Prudence and Freda are dealing with that, Frances. Could you give me a hand, and we’ll get the rest of these bags to our bedrooms?”

“Okay. Push that door closed, to keep the cold out, will you?”

“Yes, but not too far closed. Freda and Prudence should be back in a minute, with their arms full.”

“Oh, yes, you said. Will I take the ones closest to the door?”

“Good idea, Frances. Reg has taken the heaviest cases already. Oh, here he is, coming back down.”

Reg clattered down the last few stairs. “Right, what next? Where’s the others?”

“They are bringing in the presents, Reg. Could you take these bags next? Frances and I will carry some too.”

Reg set off again with his next load, followed by Frances and Erika. As they started up the stairs, Prudence pushed open the front door, her arms laden with stuff from the car. She called to the girls on the stairs: “Freda is just behind me. We’ll need another trip to get the rest.” She laid her load on the carpet to one side, and set off back out again.

In a few minutes all the contents had been cleared from the cars, and they brought the car keys in after locking the vehicles in the new garage.

Reg was first to get back downstairs, and set off to pour out the tea into mugs and lay the biscuit plate on the table in the dining room. He liked to do small things like that for his girls, as he reckoned they did plenty of things for him.

They started to enter the dining room, still wrapped in their winter coats, and spotted Reg at the table. Erika exclaimed, “Ah, tea to warm us up! Great!” Reg beamed, but admitted, “Frances got it started, Erika; it was her idea.”

Erika replied, “I don’t care whose idea it was. I just like it. It is one of the things I like about this family: we have our priorities right.”

Freda intervened with a sly grin, remarking, “I am not too sure about that, Erika. Our husband failed in his duty. He should have kissed each of us as we came in.”

Reg happily acceded.”Apologies, girls. I will rectify that now.” He proceeded to kiss each of them in turn, quite passionately too. They murmured approval, while he noted them still wrapped in their coats, preventing him fondling their bottoms as he kissed them. It was the fault of the heating system. An idea struck him.

Reg stood for a moment, thinking, then questioned, “Why couldn’t we have the heating system set so that we could switch it on with a phone call from where we are leaving?”

Frances stared at him, the light dawning. “Yes, why don’t we? That would solve the problem. Do we still have the contact number for Mr Fixer?”

Reg frowned as he opened his coat to remove Frances’ phone from his jacket pocket. Somehow he had ended up with it in his pocket, rather than hers. He was again reminded about the need for a phone of his own. “Did we put the number in this phone?...” He clicked through its directory. “Ah, here it is, under Fixer.” He selected it and it dialed.

Moments later, it was picked up and a voice said noncommittally, “Hello?”

Reg revealed, “This is the Robertson family. You sorted our home recently, after a burglary.”

“Yes, I remember. Is there a fault?”

“No, but we noticed how cold it was when we arrived home from our holiday break. Can you link our heating system to the phone, so that it will come on with a simple phone call, and make the house warm for when we arrive?”

Fixer told him, “I can do that. I just need to check how it is best done. Is it a rush job?”

“Not at all, sir. It is for when we next leave the house empty for a few days.”

“Fine. Leave it with me, and I’ll phone you when I am ready to install the linkage. Everything else Okay?”

“Yes, thanks. I checked round the house when we came in, and all is hunky-dory. You did a good job.”

“Glad to hear it. I have another idea: adjust the alarms so that if one of the sensors is disturbed, the system send a text message to you, alerting you to the activity.””Hey, that sounds great! Can we have that done, under the previous arrangements?”

“I don’t see why not. The boss is not likely to say no! I’ll give you a call then, when I am ready to roll?”

“Fine. We’ll look forward to it. Do you have to clear it with the boss?”

“For his daughter and her family? Nope. He said, whatever you need, you get. That was clear enough. Bye.” The call ended.

Reg turned back to the others. “Heating linkage to the phone will be fixed, at a time to suit him, plus a little extra on the security.”

That got a round of pleased responses, and then Frances said. “Reg, would you fetch the post from the catcher basket behind the front door? I was busy when we arrived, and forgot about it.”

Reg did so, and came back with about two dozen envelopes held in both hands. “Mostly Christmas cards, I think, from people who didn’t know we would be away.”

He dumped the pile on the table in front of Frances as the named householder for the mail, and their domestic leader. She sighed. “Bit late, but we should at least make a record of who sent them, for reference for next year. Freda, dear, could you fetch my personal notebook from the top middle drawer of my dressing-table please? It has last year’s list in it. I want to see who we can drop from our sending list. Far too many are unnecessary now, and just a waste of stamps, and the money to buy the cards.”

Freda stuffed her mouth with the last of her chocolate biscuit, and willingly set off on that task. They often did such fetching for each other and thought nothing of it. In many ways it was a bonding exercise.

Frances was looking at Reg, thinking carefully to herself. She finally decided, “Hey, everyone, can we agree to ignore all cards from companies and organisations, except for companies we have a family connection to? That should cut down the card list by a bit.”

Prudence said, “That sounds like common sense. Many charities send out cards to everyone who has donated to them in the past; to encourage these donors to remember them again. We can do without those on our card list.”

Reg asked Frances, “Anything else in the post that we should pay attention to? Any bills we should be dealing with, for instance?”

Frances started making two piles; the obvious Christmas cards, and the others. Once that was done, she went through the ‘others’ pile. Some were obvious from the return address, or the rubric on the front of the envelope: utility statements, and bank statements. She opened the bank ones first, to check her credit card account was not excessive. There were other statements addressed to the other girls, that she passed on for them to open.

That reminded her. “Reg, you have that new credit card in your name. It is intended first for driving lessons, so check the local phone directory for driving schools. Make a list, then we can ask around for opinions about how good each school is at getting people through the tests.”

He looked at Frances, almost horrified. “What? Now?” He was not looking forward to driving, one could tell.

“No, silly. The driving schools will be on holiday as well. So make a list of them, then ask around at the university for people who have used them, and the prices charged. By the time they are functioning again, you should know which to approach for lessons. I don’t think any of us here learned to drive in this town. Am I right, girls?”

She got the response she expected. Erika added to her reply, “Some them are national schools, but the quality of instructors still varies from place to place, so stick with local info.”

Reg suggested, “What about getting you girls to teach me? It would be much cheaper. I could get professional lessons to prepare for the tests later.”

“No!” Frances was horrified. “You daren’t pick up bad habits from any of us. For all their faults, driving schools teach you HOW you should drive, to pass your tests. We can help you with driving practice, once you have the basics sussed out. That practice can make all the difference to your confidence behind the wheel.”

“What do you mean by bad habits, Frances?” asked Reg, puzzled.

“Things like your position at a junction where you are about to turn. Far too many lazy drivers stay too far out left, to make a right turn simpler for them, but you need to learn to turn in lane and not get in the way of other drivers.”

Prudence added, “And there are drivers who still haven’t a clue about reversing, other than the reverse the have to do for the test. Any distance at all, and they are all over the place, and as for parallel parking, it is often abysmal: they take up too much space, or park too close or too far away from the kerb, often at an angle. If the nose sticks out, someone like me, on a moped or bicycle can find it an obstacle forcing them out into the path of other traffic. Learn it right, then do it right, I say!”

“But you have your own car now, Prudence.”

“Thank God for that. But my opinion about bad parking doesn’t change. Driving my scooter on the roads keeps getting more dangerous.”

Frances downed her second cup of tea, and declared, “We had better report to our parents that we have arrived home safely; otherwise they will fret, poor souls. Who is going first?”

They all, one by one, made these calls and satisfied their parents that everything was fine. Frances’ mother told her that they were both feeling fine, but that Reg’s mother had now come down with flu, so the twins had taken over looking after her in an isolated bedroom. Frances promised to let Reg know, so that he wouldn’t be surprised that she was not home yet. Then it occurred to her that Reg’s mother was supposed to be at the Gower home. “Mum, how come Mrs Robertson is in your house now, and the twins as well?”

Her mother explained, “Mrs Gower was having unspecified problems - I now think it was actually Mrs Robertson -, and asked if we could take Mrs Robertson and the twins for a little while, so we said yes, and your Dad got thrm transferred.”

“Are you coping with all that, Mum? Mrs Robertson can be a handful, I agree.”

Frances’ mother told her, “I think she is perversely enjoying being ill here, as she gets waited on hand and foot! She is drinking our sherry now, but that helps her to sleep through the flu, so we are happy with that effect. Tell Reg that while she is not intrinsically a bad woman, we noticed that her self-centredness creeps in at times, until she pulls herself back up. How Reg survived all these years as he did is quite amazing.”

Frances passed this on to Reg when she got him alone in the kitchen. At first he was sympathetic over her illness, then grinned at her sherry addiction, then angry at how her old self sneaked back at times. “I am glad I am away from home ... away from HER home,” he corrected himself. “I am now in our own home, and I love it, Frances darling. I love this house, I love you, I love Freda, I love Erika, and I love Prudence. I love my life with you all. It couldn’t get better,” he concluded.

Frances hugged him to her body. “You continue to make me and the other girls happy, Reg. That is all we want.” She noticed his body’s reaction. “Do you want to go to bed and show me how much you love me?”

“I’d love to, my darling, but I suspect we wouldn’t be alone for long.”

She gave a little laugh and said, “Then why don’t we use one of the spare rooms and make love there? The others may not find us for a while.”

He grinned, “Let’s do that now, Frances.” He grabbed her hand and the pair made their way upstairs as quietly as they could.

They found one of the guest rooms with a bed made up, and quickly undressed and got under the bedclothes to warm up, as the room temperature was still not very high. They cuddled for a few minutes to allow themselves to warm each other, until Reg began fondling Frances’ breasts, teasing her nipples. In response, her hand crept down and stroked his stiffening penis. “I missed this beastie when we were down with the flu, but you weren’t in any state to help out, were you?”

“I am now,” Reg promised her, and moved one hand down to stroke her sex, running his fingers up and down her nether lips before eventually getting to her clitoris. Both of them had warmed up sufficiently to be able to become more energetic, and Frances decided she wanted to be on top. She got him to lie on his back, then rolled over on top of him. She pushed herself up and maneuvered herself so that she could guide his prick to her vagina and lowered herself down on him.