Chapter 10

That evening it rained. We found a pub that wasn’t thronging with tourists – no small feat when it rains. I opted for a tomato juice, both because I was aware that a man can get fat drinking pints every night, and because I’d noticed the police car parked near the entrance to the village. We discovered two things. One: the windscreen wipers on an old car are about as efficient as a fan in the Sahara, and Two: yes, the police car was positioned to catch speeders and drunks. We were pulled over.

“This your car sir?”

“No officer”

“I didn’t think so, it doesn’t look like a car for you and your” he looked at the back seat full of dishy birds, then the front passenger seat with a girl with a miniskirt up round her navel. Erica! She is such tease! “friends. How come you have it? Stolen is it?” Silly man.

“I’ve borrowed it. But it is insured for me to drive. I can show you the certificate if you like? I’ll bring it to your car to stop it getting soaked. To be honest, if I was going to steal a car to impress the ladies, I’d steal something that went faster than fifty”

“No need sir. Let me see? Ah yes, I see. Have you been drinking sir? I think I can smell alcohol”

Now, of course, he could have targeted the girls, most of whom were underage...

“I’ve only had tomato juice ossifer.” I smiled “It’s true, I’m a sensible driver.” I knew what was coming, so I was out of the car by now. “Aside from the danger to this most valuable cargo; if I wrecked his car, Mr Maxwell would string me up!”

“Jack Maxwell? Oh, of course, it’s his pride and joy. And these are his granddaughters? I heard he was in hospital. How is he?”

Good grief, everybody knows Gramps, it seems. And in a good way by the looks of it. “Still shaken I think, but making a good recovery. We’ve just been visiting.”

“Okay, just for the report, will you blow in to this bag, please” It was negative, of course. And we were sent on our way. Erica didn’t even make a rude remark until we were out of earshot. She had had three Camparis; she was half-cut.

“Jumped up little Hitler!”

“Actually, Erica, he was quite nice; apart from getting me soaking wet. Seems your Grandad is known by everyone! ... Atishhoo!”

I couldn’t be getting a cold already from being in the rain five minutes ago. But when we got home, Toni ran me a bath. That was nice of her. She took me to the bathroom; locked the door with us both inside and undressed me and put me in. Then she undressed and got in too.

“I can wash myself, Toni”

“I know, but you can wash me too”

We had to work hard not to splash too much water over the side. The bath was actually surprisingly big. This was no Victorian hip bath, nor yet a modern ‘compact’. It was a large, deep, cast iron bath, fully six feet long. Perhaps we both wondered a little why the two old people we knew needed such a large bath; surely they didn’t share ... Another question that would never be answered. I suspect you had to be very, very close to your granny to ask if she shared a bath with your granddad. I put that out of my mind as a hand felt between my legs and started stroking me. I leant back and enjoyed a woman holding me and crawling up my body, more and more flesh on flesh contact. I felt down as well and found her thighs, then slit, then a spongy entrance with a finger or two. “Gently, David, not much has gone in there”

“Are you a virgin? I’ll stop if you like”

“Can you keep a secret? Yes, and no. Yes I am, and no don’t stop”

How could it be that the eldest girl was still a virgin? Okay Erica was, but I was damn sure she wouldn’t be by the time she was eighteen. I asked, as diplomatically as I could.

“What? You think I should just fuck some guy to get rid of my virginity like it was a bit of rubbish”

“No, no. It is special, I know that. I meant had you not met anybody worthy?”

“No, not really” she left it there. I wasn’t the lucky one either, it seemed. Good for her, I thought, whilst also thinking ‘fuck, I would love to take that’. “until now” she added after such a long pause that I thought she’d finished. “But not under some woolly, scratchy, blankets; and nor here, in a bath, thank you. This is the prelude. I want to do it on the lawn. I’ve always wanted to make love on a lawn, naked in the moonlight.” Naked in the moonlight and visible to any passers-by and to a couple of bedroom windows, I contemplated. Still, I could accept all that...