Chapter 1

Note on word use: in some parts of this story an attempt has been made to represent a generalised Scottish dialect by means of stylised spelling and inflection of certain words an phrases. I freely admit that this is only an interpretation—some might prefer the word ‘bastardisation’—for which I apologise to native speakers unreservedly. This of course also explains any perceived grammatical, syntactical and lexical errors; not to mention inconsistences during its use. Thank you.

Unlike my older brother William, I returned from the war relatively unscathed, whereas my brother’s reward for serving his country was a grave with a cross among many, many other similar graves. To add indignity to injury, his final resting place is, to quote the poet: ‘ ... some corner of a foreign field. That is for ever England. There shall be. In that rich earth a richer dust concealed.’ Unfortunately for my parents, that particular foreign field is too far for them to travel to and pay their respects to a much loved and missed son.

As I said, I am Thomas Campbell, the younger and now only son. Upon my return to post-war life there was scant evidence of a land fit for heroes and so I left the small village in Perthshire that had formerly been my home and headed south to try my luck among the Heathen English!

Of course Britain in the period following after World War Two was by and large an austere place, but I had made several good friends in the RAF, one of whom, unlikely as it seems, was the son of a fairly well to do family in the Home Counties. Johnny Erskine-Taylor was another one of those who never lived to see the peace, but he told me that if I ever had a need I should call on his ‘people’, as he called them. True to his word, I was greeted if not exactly with open arms, then certainly with acceptance for befriending their son. Although the war had changed social attitudes somewhat, the English class system was still alive and kicking in the late 1940’s and I was fully aware of which end of the boot I was on.

Although not part of the really top echelon, the Erskine-Taylor’s were still part of the affluent upper class. Their estate was modest by some standards, but they had a large house set in enough acres for it to require a staff to manage both. Due to my association with their son and my being a former officer in the RAF, I was offered a role within the household befitting that status: that of personal secretary-cum-chauffeur to Johnny’s father, Sir Walter Erskine-Taylor. This was the time when, like in previous conflicts, civilians from all walks of life and social status had left their employment to fight the foe, and many of these were either injured, killed, or chose not to return to their previous lifestyles. It was my understanding that my predecessor was now doing his bit for H M Government’s intelligence service.

One of the first things that I noted, was that I appeared to be, at twenty-seven, one of the younger members of staff. Of those employed within the house itself, there was only the cook and I who ‘lived in’. Lady Maude Erskine-Taylor was younger than her husband and I estimated, based on Johnny’s age when I knew him, twenty-one, that she was probably now in her upper-forties and was something of a progressive, as she eschewed a personal maid to assist her. There were also several local women who came in to clean several times a week and if the Erskine-Taylor’s had guests to stay or visit, additional casual domestic help was recruited. Outside of the house staff there was a gardener who lived on the estate, who had a couple of assistants. Johnny Erskine-Taylor was the eldest of three siblings, with a brother and a sister who were now both married and lived elsewhere.

Once I had been engaged, I was informed that my wardrobe, including the ubiquitous ‘demob suit’, was barely adequate for purpose and I was dispatched to a tailor for suitable replacements. Fortunately, I had driven extensively during the war, so I was soon acquainted with the Erskine-Taylor’s garage, including Sir Walter’s Mk VI Bentley and poor old Johnny’s MG, which had been returned after his demise. I was of course familiar with the latter of these and was told that it was mine to use when I was not chauffeuring my employers around, and subject to petrol rationing; which seemed never to be a problem for my employer.

I have to say that I felt that I had really fallen on my feet at last, and although I of course wished that the war had never happened, it had been the unforeseen catalyst for my present good fortune. I can’t say that the work was particularly demanding, for although I was more or less always nominally on call, I was frequently left to my own devices.

Part of my duties was keeping Sir Walter’s engagement diary up to date and ensuring that he arrived at meetings, etc., in good time and suitably briefed. He had made his family’s money in commerce and he still served on several company boards, and he was forward thinking enough to realise that industry and commerce would become increasingly dependent on overseas markets and suppliers. On occasion I accompanied him on foreign visits, which involved sometimes complicated planning and long journey times, but on other occasions he travelled alone or with more qualified representatives. It was one such junket that lead me to the next part of this story.

Sir Walter had told me that he was travelling to North America on business. It had required letters, several telegrams and some very expensive telephone calls, but we had eventually arranged his passage and accommodation. On the day of his departure we had risen early and I had driven him to Southampton to board the recently refurbished RMS Queen Mary liner. During the war I had flown over many large ships, but it was my first experience of seeing one up close and I couldn’t help but be impressed by it’s size and overall appearance. After parting from my employer I returned to Wilburly Hall, stopping once to take a break and eat at a transport café. Despite being dressed in a suit and driving a Bentley, I actually enjoyed the ambiance of the café surrounded by predominantly professional lorry drivers. Suitably rested, I continued on my journey arriving back in Oxfordshire in the late afternoon.

Although it was not a requirement, I had become accustomed to dining with my employers in the evening, at which time they liked to hear about my wartime service, and of course that of their son. They had received notification of his death by means of the customary telegram, but wartime restrictions had limited its content to the bare essentials. A subsequent letter written by our commanding officer had furnished further details, however he was also limited to saying what a fine officer Johnny was, etc. Sir Walter and Lady Maude were therefore grateful that I could furnish details that were hitherto denied them. I was once again reminded how little my parents and I actually knew about my brother William’s death in Italy.

I had a few more hours to rest after the journey to and from Southampton, but after freshening up and changing my clothes, I joined Lady Maude in the dining room at eight o’clock.

As already intimated, she was a lady now in her middle-age and was at least ten years her husband’s junior. As a man who had known and enjoyed women’s company since my late teens, I had of course appreciated her physical attractiveness and comportment since the first day that I had seen her, but knowing my place my feelings had remained private. For a woman who had borne three children, she still seemed to remain remarkably slim of stature.

Approximately five feet five inches in height, Lady Maude wore her blonde hair in a modern short style that stopped about an inch short of her shoulder. She dressed simply, albeit elegantly, and from the cocktail dresses that she wore in the evening to dine, I adjudged that she had an ample, if not overlarge bosom, which her clothing nevertheless formed into an attractive cleavage. My time in the RAF had brought me into contact with women of all social classes, including the wives and sisters of my fellow officers on occasion, and so I had learned to refine my social behaviour when around the fairer sex, which I have carried on ever since.

Dinner was never a time for overmuch idle chatter, although neither was it an entirely conversation-free occasion. I had become aware, however, that Sir Walter and Lady Maude didn’t seem to interact in the familiar loving way that I had grown up witnessing in my own parents behaviour. From my talks with Johnny and other officers who came from similar class backgrounds, I knew something about the way that they thought and behaved. I sensed that my employers had a genuine affection for one another, but I wouldn’t have been at all surprised to discover that this affection was not the primary reason for their marital union. I was worldly enough to comprehend that there were many marriages that were based on forming and strengthening familial and commercial alliances, but to a Scot from a simpler way of life, that still seemed a strange reason to enter into a relationship that was expected to last for decades, and where ‘death do us part’ was still the expected cause for its ending. However, my employers marital relationship was not my concern.

“Thomas, as I understand it, my husband is scheduled to be away for two weeks, is he not?”

“Yes, Lady Maude. He has several meetings arranged in the interim, and his return passage is due to arrive two weeks hence. The Cunard liners make the crossing in just under four days, on average, and they are large enough not to be affected by most weather conditions.” She nodded in acknowledgement and appeared to smile.

“Thomas, may I speak frankly and about things that may seem to you to be personal?”

“Of course, Lady Maude; you can be assured that anything you say to me will be treated in the strictest confidence and I can think of nothing that is so personal that I would feel uncomfortable answering.” I did wonder where this conversation was going, but I patiently waited to see. Lady Maude appeared to be gathering her thoughts.

“William Fortescue, the man you replaced Thomas, was a pompous ass and a crashing bore at times, but he was very useful to my husband and he had, shall we say, ‘talents’ that benefitted me directly, and which I believe my husband was unaware of.

“You are a very handsome man Thomas, and I find your soft Scottish brogue very pleasant to listen to. I am assuming that being such an attractive man that you have intimate knowledge of women?”

I tried not to smile and to keep my facial expression neutral as I listened; I thought, nay, I hoped, that I now knew the true purpose of this conversation.

“That would be an accurate assumption, Lady Maude. I have had the pleasure of experiencing a number of ladies in that way, both in peacetime and during the war. I am also fairly confident that the ladies in question also enjoyed the experience.” This produced another lovely smile from her.

“Thomas, I am a woman with needs that my husband cannot meet. I wish that I could say ‘no longer meets’, but in truth he has always had, shall we say, ‘deficiencies’ in that respect. In contrast, your predecessor was able to compensate for these shortcomings and I hope that you will now also perform this function for me. Apart from cook, who rises early and retires after dinner, we have the house to ourselves Thomas, and so we only have to exercise the minimum of discretion while my husband is away, and then only slightly more so when he is at home. How does this arrangement sound to you; do you wish to take on this additional duty?” I looked her in the eyes and smiled: “I am, as ever, at your service, Ma’am!”

“Oh, good oh!” she replied in an uncharacteristic and somewhat childishly enthusiastic manner, “We shall commence your duty right away. You can escort me to your room as soon as the dinner things are cleared away. You don’t know how much I am looking forward to this Thomas.” I nodded.

“I, too, Lady Maude!”

Wilburly Hall was arranged on three floors. The ground floor comprising the kitchen, the formal dining room, Sir Walter’s library, which also served as his and my office, and in addition there were two drawing rooms and a cloakroom off of the entrance hall. The middle floor comprised bedrooms and bathrooms, cook’s being at the rear near the service stairway that was adjacent to the kitchen. Sir Walter and Lady Maude had a suite with its own bathroom and a dressing room. Mine was nearby but lacked a separate dressing room. The top of the house once housed the live in staff but was now used primarily for additional storage.

The Erskine-Taylor’s still entertained occasionally, at which times extra staff were taken on to see to the needs of their guests, but the war had led to a large reduction in these occasions. My role at such times was to act as co-ordinator and to oversee the hiring of the additional help. If the guests were close family or friends I mainly dined with the staff, but when it was Sir Walter’s business associates I was usually present.

Most of the time, however, it was just the three of us, and though while still technically ‘formal’, cook prepared the meals which were brought to the dining room to be served by myself and Lady Maude, who had a very ‘hands on’ approach to domestic matters. Sir Walter was a cigar smoker, and once the meal was over he often retired to his library. Lady Maude was a non-smoker and I had only tried it briefly some time ago, deciding that it held no attraction, although in the past I had generally frequented the squadron’s mess hall where many cigarette and pipe smokers congregated. Once dinner was over, usually around nine o’clock, Lady Maude and I, or sometimes only myself, would return the crockery and cutlery to the kitchen, where cook or more often one of her assistants would deal with it the next morning. Then, depending on how fatigued we were feeling, we would either retire to one of the drawing rooms for a while or go to our beds. On this particular evening, I took the things to the kitchen while Lady Maude tidied up her dining room. I arrived back just as she was finishing up. I offered her my arm: “If you will allow me, Madam.” She smiled and accepted my invitation, whereupon we ascended the wide staircase, side by side, and as we climbed the stairs I noted what I took to be her sense of anticipation. When we reached my bedroom I opened the door then stood back while she entered.

Lady Maude stood by my bed almost shyly, as if waiting for me to make the first move; I was confident enough to do so.

“May I kiss you?” She smiled and took a step towards me and my open arms. With her stature and in her small heels she was almost the perfect height for me, as I stood looking slightly down at her upturned face. “You are very beautiful, My Lady!” I said as I dipped to meet her lips.

It was initially a tentative kiss, but as we quickly grew accustomed to each other it became more intense. She had placed her arms around my neck and I had placed mine loosely on her hips, but as our kiss deepened I moved one of mine onto her buttock, so as to pull her closer. Emboldened by her apparent acceptance of my actions, I moved my hands slowly up her back until I reached the top of her dress. Lady Maud broke our kiss: “Yes, go ahead Thomas, undress me!”

She continued to hold me but rested her head against my shoulder as I sought the means to comply with her request. I knew enough about ladies apparel to first locate a small hook and eye fastener, which once released permitted access to one of those zip fasteners which had dispensed with the need for multiple buttons. I slid it slowly down her back to about the mid-way point; my fingers sensed some kind of silky garment underneath.

The dress itself was black and appeared to be fitted to her contours above the waist but from there down to her knees flared slightly. It had a straight-cut neckline, front and back, the front half dipping slightly in the middle, but otherwise following the roundness of her breasts, several inches of milky-whiteness of which were uncovered and on display; just enough, however, to excite a fellow’s interest. The few inches of material that covered the end of her shoulders and extended down her arms by a similar amount formed the means to support the weight of the material.