Chapter 18

Fiona gave a laugh at this exposition, but put in her own thought.

“Everyone, I would like to go to church this Sunday, if you are all O.K. with me sloping off.”

Frances told her, “No problem, Fiona. Would you like some the rest of to join you? What church is it?”

“The local Parish church will do me fine: Anglican, not R.C. Church gives me some comfort when I get angry, such as with my stepmother’s actions. I know I shouldn’t wish her ill, so I want a quiet chat with God during the service, to ask forgiveness.”

Frances gave her a hug. “A very human frailty, that. I would be happy to accompany you, if it would be helpful, Fiona.”

“It would, Frances. It would,” she repeated.

Frances passed on this item to the other girls. This resulted in all the other girls and Reg offering to come along too. Fiona looked surprised, and said, “I didn’t expect you all to join me, but I won’t refuse the offer.”

Reg told her, “Fiona, if one of us needs any sort of help, we all cooperate to ensure that she gets help. We are a FAMILY, and we act accordingly.”

“Wow. I keep learning more about this unique family. I even more want to join you,” she admitted.

Frances declared, “We made a decision some time ago, to allow you to join, Fiona. That decision is unlikely to be rescinded, but remember: when you do finally commit to us, you commit to us for life!”

“I will pray for guidance, Frances, but my heart says yes.”

“Okay, Fiona. Get the details of church location and time of service, and we can organise the visit.”

Reg glanced at his phone to check the time, having noticed other students leaving, “Girls, it is time we were off to our next lectures.”

The afternoon was uneventful, in that nothing unusual happened, except that the police released the Chemistry building for normal use, under pressure from the university authorities. A memo was then sent around the university, announcing that Chemistry lectures and other meetings in the Chemistry building would resume first thing tomorrow. It ended by saying that some experiments would have to be reconsidered, if damaged by the explosion.

The Robertson tribe gathered at the car park and drove home, chattering about their day. Frances handed her door key to Reg. “Reg darling, it is time you acted as head of household, and opened the front door for your family to enter.”

Reg smiled wearily, and accepted the key and the instruction, fitting it in the lock and opening the door with a flourish.

“Ladies, your home awaits.” He bowed and gestured towards the open doorway. Standing there now was Carol, looking bemused. “What the hell is going on here?”

Frances gave a nonchalant wave of her hand. “Nothing of concern, Carol. Merely a new ritual for the family: Reg opening the front door for us, indicating his place as head of our household.”

Carol frowned. “But I thought you, as Chief Wife, were head of the household, Frances?”

Frances admonished her, “Head of the female household, yes, Carol, but Reg is overall head of the family, so we should give him his place.”

Reg patted Carol on the shoulder and whispered to her, “She is giving me permission to be titular head, Carol. Let her get away with it.”

Carol giggled at these words, and Frances glared over at her, suspecting that she was the butt of the joke.

Holly appeared, demanding, “All of you get inside, quick, before Sidra comes through here. We need to get the door closed.”

Frances was puzzled at the way Holly was acting. “Are you trying to take my place, Holly?”

“No, Frances. We have talked with Sidra, and agree that she needs to be out of sight from the world. Her father beat her up regularly, and her mother got hit for protecting her. The father seems to have absorbed the Pakistani male controlling attitude, whereby women are second or third-class citizens, and beating them is normal. A really horrible approach to life!”

Frances was pleased that the twins had got through to Sidra. “Well done, girls. You can advise us on how we should help Sidra to cope.”

“Someone mentioned my name?” Sidra appeared from the dining room, where she had been laying the table for the evening meal.

Frances told her, “Of course, Sidra. We were discussing how to help you. The twins appear to have made a start, so you should use them as a sounding-board if you want to talk about your problems.”

Reg added, “And Sidra? If you let us know where your father can be found, we might be able to let him feel what being beaten is like!”

Sidra recoiled, “He is my father, Reg! I cannot do that to him.”

“But it was all right for him to do that to you, was it?”

“No. But, ... he is still my father, and so should be respected.”

“And you are still his daughter, and should equally be respected, but you were NOT being respected, were you?”

“No.” She appealed, desperately, “Reg, can you not explain to him that beating people is wrong?”

Reg explained his thoughts. “Sidra, to a man like him, other people, particularly females, are not on a level worthy of his respect, because they are subservient in his social philosophy. He probably does not think of them being hurt; but being merely chastised, in his mind’s eye. He probably believes that this is only way to get females to behave as they should. This the way men like that think. You can ask Fiona about that, and she will tell you. Until he realises that females are just as important as males, his behaviour will be difficult to alter.”

“But how do you do that, Reg? How can he change, without your beating-up plan?”

“I don’t know, Sidra. In some ways, he may never change, inside, but he might be persuaded to hold back on striking out at his family. My impression is that some major impact on him is necessary for that to happen. That is why I spoke about him learning what a beating is like; being on the receiving end for once.”

“But who do you imagine as delivering such a beating? Would the person who did that not be participating in the very thing that you object to?”

Reg looked at Sidra with considerably more respect. “You have a strong point there, young lady. Would you rather abandon your family entirely? Remember that your mother remains in that abusive relationship.”

“I can tell you this: I don’t ever want to go back there!”

“What about your mother? Would she want out as well?”

“Oh.” She stopped to think. “I don’t know. She might have had enough of him, but I am not certain. I would have to ask her, and I can’t do that now.”

“Why not? We could get you a throw-away mobile phone, then you could use it to make the call. If necessary, we could take you in a car to another town for you to call her, so that even if someone traced the GPS location, it would not tell them anything. You would still be safe, provided that phone was not used again.”

She mulled this over, clearly concerned for her mother, while anxious about her own hidden location. At last, she responded.

“I like the idea of contacting my mother in a way that does not lead back to me. Can you fix it up?”

Frances told her, “We can try, Sidra. Give us a day or two to look into the question of such phones.”

Holly reappeared to say, “Can you folk get yourselves properly inside and prepare yourselves for dinner? We had a hotpot organised, on the assumption that you might be late, but as you are here sharpish, we can dish out the meal earlier; just give us time to heat up the soup that Carol made. Ten or fifteen minutes should be enough, unless you want it whirred?”

“Whirred?” questioned Prudence.

“Sorry. That means liquidised, in our family. The liquidiser makes a whirring sound, so I call it whirring. It only takes a minute or so. I prefer the lumps, though. What do you all want? Hands up for whirred.”

“O.K. that’s three. Can I assume non-whirred for the rest? Fine. I’ll tell Carol it is three portions for whirring.” she vanished towards the kitchen.

Sidra commented, “The twins are very efficient; well organised. Their mother has trained them well.”

Freda nudged Frances. “Can I have a quiet word, Frances?”

Frances agreed, and the pair went off to the living room to be alone.

Frances then asked, “What do you want, that needs privacy, Freda?”

“I was thinking: perhaps my big brother can borrow a phone from his bank; one that belongs to the bank and not to an individual. He could send it to us by courier, then we take Sidra to a neutral venue to make the call. Even if it could be traced, the phone’s ownership would simply be the bank’s headquarters, with no provable link to anyone. These phones get passed around for business use, Julian told me. He was bragging at the time.”

Frances was pleased. “That sounds a great idea, Freda! Go ahead and see if it is practical, dear. And, thanks.” She gave Freda a kiss on the cheek to show her pleasure.

Freda checked the time. “I might have time to catch Julian at his work, so I’ll do it now. Keep the soup hot for me!”

She took her phone off to her bedroom to make the call.

While all the others were partaking of their soup, she sidled into the dining room and took her seat. The soup tureen was covered, and Frances gestured for her to help herself, so Freda did so, finding it still nice and hot.

As she tasted her soup, her eye caught Frances’ raised eyebrow, Frances asking the inevitable question. Freda simply nodded, and followed it with a ‘thumbs up’ signal with her free hand.

After their evening meal was concluded; the twins having brought coffee and biscuits to the table; they dispersed to their own interests for the evening.

Despite the evening drawing in, Reg took his metal detector and a plastic bag out to the back garden and scanned as much as he could. He was able to return with some very old tin cans, nails of various lengths, and a few unidentified small lumps of metal. There was still more to be scanned, but he was happy with a step in the right direction.

Frances had motioned Freda to wait behind as the others left the dining room, and when they were alone, asked, “What is happening with your brother, Freda?”

“He told me he would pick up a business phone and parcel it up, addressed to here, marked Robertson & Co., accountants. That makes it appear a business delivery. He told the firm’s courier service to pick it up at the front desk – some staff work late, you see – and he has a promise of delivery tomorrow. I’ll warn the twins that a parcel is due.”

“Sounds good, Freda. Your Julian appears to have turned over a new leaf, being so cooperative to his little sister.”

Freda snorted, “His MARRIED little sister, Frances! I am one up on him, in his eyes, but I do believe this girl he has started going out with will snaffle him into wedlock before long. She has her head screwed on right, and will make him a good wife.”

Frances nodded, “I am sure you are correct, Freda. It is not just the beauties that know how to get a man!”

“Yes, even if we have to do it by teamwork.” She smiled. “Talking of teams, Sidra seems to have teamed up with the twins.”

“I noticed. Being of similar ages, they have a lot in common, and they know about child abuse: they had a project about it in their final year at school.”

“Ah, so that’s how they knew how to approach Sidra. Good for them. The twins have a lot going for them, Frances. Your cousins are good cooks, and they seem to know their way around housework.”

Frances told Freda, “Their mother was like mine: Prepare them for either feeding a husband, or feeding themselves if they didn’t find a suitable man. The same goes for housework. She intended them to keep their house or flat clean, neat and tidy. Nothing puts off a man more quickly than a slovenly-looking home.”

“Yes. Our parents were keen on these abilities too, but that was because our looks did not give them expectations of us ever marrying. Boy, were they SO wrong, thanks to Reg!”

Frances smiled gently. “Life is never what we expect it to be. We just have to hope that it becomes BETTER than expected, and not worse.”

“Yeah. I think Reg comes under the category of ‘better’!”

“Agreed, but that doesn’t give you priority with him tonight, girl.”

Freda gave her a pretend scowl, but gave up and smiled. “I’m not bothered. I can wait a day or two until it is my turn again. Reg never leaves me unsatisfied.”

“Again, agreed; despite adding Fiona to the pack. One of these days we may have to get Reg onto these penile erection pills, if he wilts under much more pressure. But perhaps he will get better at staying hard, with practice; and he gets plenty of practice as it is.”

“Hmm ... Is it true what I heard, that when you are pregnant you get more horny?”

“As with most questions, the answer is both yes and no. From my reading, the general conclusion is less desire for sex in the first trimester, more desire in the second, and tailing off again in the third trimester, but as every woman is different, so are the effects.”

“Should I read up on it as well, Frances?”

“If you want, but I intend to consult the maternity services and get them to examine me and tell me what to expect, based on my own body’s reaction to pregnancy.”

“That sounds sensible. Should we all aim to have the same doctor or midwife?”

“Good suggestion, if we can arrange it that way. If Fiona is first, we can broach the idea with her medical professionals, and get their reaction. I certainly think if there are several of us pregnant in the same house, one medical visit could be more efficient if checking us all over. That reminds me: I’d better arrange for Reg to get a medical, so we know he is fit and well. Fatherhood can be stressful to a man, you know.”

The following day, with the twins briefed to expect a parcel, the others left them to look after Sidra, and set off for their classes. The only unexpected occurrence was when the Reverend Professor phoned Frances, asking to speak to Reg. Frances reminded her that Reg now had his own phone, and gave her the number.

Shortly, Reg got the call, and welcomed her call.

“Glad to hear you, Professor. What can I do for you?”

“I just wanted to let you know that a rather officious policeman wanted to know about the stowaway in the Chemistry building basement, on the grounds that the person could be witness to the break-in.

I told the man that, first of all, as the break-in was during the night, the chances of anyone being able to identify the intruder was pretty well nil, and secondly, as the trespasser was a young person in need of care, I would not be passing on any information that could harm the child in any way.

He tried to browbeat me, saying that he only wanted to ask questions, but I said that might be traumatic for the child. If he had specific questions he would like answers to, I might be able to pass them on – IF I still had a location for the child, who was being placed into a safe place of protection.

He then suggested that if a crime had been committed on the person of the child, it was his duty to investigate it and bring the perpetrator to justice. I asked him, What if the child did not want the perpetrator arrested, for example if a family member was responsible?

That stopped him, so I think we have got off safely. I just thought you ought to know.”

“Pity,” murmured Reg.

The Reverend gasped, “Pity? Do you not care, Mr Robertson?”

“Sorry. You misunderstand me. I meant it was a pity you rang me. If he checks your phone records, he will know that you rang me, and draw his own conclusions.”

“Oh. You mean it might lead him to you?”

“Yes. It would be better if we had another reason for you speaking to me. How about that Fiona Prentiss wants to join our Commitment, and you were phoning me to give me feedback?”

“Are you serious, Mr Robertson? Fiona Prentiss, in the year ahead of you?”

“That’s her. She volunteered, as she is looking for a stable partnership. She has a new stepmother who is pushing her out of her father’s family. We all warned her about our Commitment being just as permanent as a marriage, so she thought it over and decided she wanted to commit to us and our love. She is possibly pregnant now, by her own choice I have to say.”

“Good Grief, Robertson; you don’t do things by halves, do you? What did you do to this girl, to make her willing to throw her life away on you and your tribe?”

“That is the thing, Reverend Professor. I did nothing. She approached Frances, who tried to put her off, then told her she had to be approved by all the wives in advance. That failed to deter her, and after a long discussion with my ladies, they approved her application and insisted she had to discover whether she could put up with me and my love-making.”

“Does that mean what I think, Mr Robertson?”

“Yes, I am afraid so. She volunteered to be deflowered – she was still a virgin – and only afterwards did she tell me that she had no birth control measures in place, and wanted none.”

“So that is why you think she might be pregnant?”

“Indeed so. Now she has bought a number pregnancy test kits for use by herself and my wives.”