Chapter 2

“You’d be doing her a favour.” said Jacqueline, when they had finally got to the point.

“You’d be doing me a favour.” smiled Mimi at him and then at Jacqueline

“You’d be doing us all a favour, and we’d be everso, everso, grateful.” said Annabel, with Jane nodding behind her. He wondered what, exactly ‘grateful’ might mean, and was grateful, himself, that the youngest, Susan, wasn’t there to hear this proposal.

“Pleeeeaaase.” emphasised Jane, flashing her eyes in a way that she was learning would make almost any male weaken (school teachers allowing her to miss gym, Mark when she persuaded him to skip school with her, policeman when they were caught out of school later; even mother, when she had got to hear, found the doe eye look hard to resist).

“But ... no, look I’ve never forced a woman, I’ve never abused a woman. It isn’t in my nature - “ he stopped, the two older women both knew that wasn’t totally true. They had both allowed for his fantasies of taking a woman ‘oh please, please, don’t hurt me’ and tying her up ‘oh, oh, I’m unable to resist’; but, of course, it had all been consensual. What they were proposing was not. “- not in reality I mean.” Annabel wondered what that meant and started adding two and two and coming up with an interesting result. “She may be the most annoying, irritating, harridan on earth. -”

“She is!” said several voices together

“But she doesn’t deserve to be ... well to be raped. Yes, that’s what it would be.”

“Welllll, more non-consensual than rape.”

“What’s the difference. And no matter how grateful you would all be.” And, once again, he did wonder what the girls meant. “I couldn’t do it.”

The woman nodded, they understood. Secretly, they respected him for what he was saying, this was why they were willing to trust him to tie them up. This was why he had been left ‘in loco parentis’ by Mimi (and Jacqueline) when they had gone off for a weekend together – Joan had had one of her flights of mercy (she saw it as mercy to help another member of the family, Mimi saw it as a mercy to be freed from her, briefly). Mimi trusted him with her three daughters, despite knowing full well that, being a man, he fancied the pants off at least one, possibly two, hopefully not all three. She knew he fantasised that he was on top of some younger, sweeter body sometimes, when he was inside her. She didn’t mind, she got the sex she needed. Anyway, she trusted him; she knew he wouldn’t take advantage. She, at least, knew what Annabel’s ‘grateful’ meant; she wasn’t sure about that, but Annabel was old enough to decide for herself; so was Jane, theoretically, but she was pretty sure that would be a virgin’s gratitude, which she was even less sure about.

“Supposing ... supposing she was compliant? Supposing she agreed to sleep with you?” asked his wife. She was actually enjoying this. It was like one of the complicated TV series she watched (John loves Mary, but she is happily married to Harry, who is having an affair with John’s wife. To get his revenge, John seduces Harriet, who is the Harry’s niece, and gets her pregnant. Tim – John’s son by his first wife – loves Harriet and marries her, unaware that the child she is carrying is his half-brother... ). She had no idea how to get the man-hating, fun-hating, pain-in-the-arse (who genuinely felt she was helping people), to want to have sex with the neighbour nextdoor.

“Well, then, I suppose ... but how would you arrange that?” He pictured the woman with a bag over her head, she wasn’t what you’d call a looker. Maybe once she had been, but looking attractive, wearing makeup, getting her hair done, dressing well, were not things high on her agenda. “Leave that with us, we’ll work on it.” Mimi actually had the inkling of the germ of an idea.

Joan was always ‘temporary’, but she had stayed so long now that her old friends had started to drift. They didn’t ring, she would say. Well, why don’t you ring them? Mimi would suggest. “Oh no, it is her turn to ring me,” Joan would insist, as if that mattered. “And anyway, I couldn’t use your phone without asking.” That was always her backstop – she was a guest, so she couldn’t possibly do anything like cost Mimi money; Mimi had explained that the phone was free, but it made no difference. It wasn’t that she did nothing around the house, she would dust and vacuum assiduously; often early in the morning at a weekend or a school holiday, bustling into the bedrooms without even knocking (and brutally interrupting a young girl’s pleasant daydreams with a hand between her legs – once Jane was actually in the middle of a climax, and had to hold her breath for a whole minute before it was safe to run to the bathroom to cool off); she would cook and shop when Mimi was working; she tried to help; but it was all just slightly irritating, at odds with the more messy, unplanned existence that the four other females felt they would prefer. The grass is always greener on the other side of the fence, of course. Would Susan really prefer to come home from school and not smell a delicious, well, cooked (if conservative) meal being prepared? Would Jane really prefer to sleep in the same sheets for a month before her mother thought that she might get round to doing the washing? Would Annabel mind if she had to find the least ‘used’ pants to put back on because none of the females in the house had thought to switch on the washing machine? Would Mimi mind if the freezer only had a half-packet of fish fingers, frozen mixed-vegetables and a loaf that had been frozen a year ago?

Jack went off, shaking his head, literally. He walked to his car to go to the tool shop – a walk around a tool shop always helped distract him. As he walked, he was gently shaking his head in disbelief at how the women in his life had changed. Only a few months ago, he had been rationed to sex once a month, and that pretty unimaginative. Last night he had had his wife, willingly, kneeling on the bed and him rogering her with gusto from behind – and she urging him to thrust harder! He had sex on tap, whenever he wanted; and he had sex ‘on the sly’, with permission, from his wife. He would meet Mimi at some hotel once a week (so Joan wouldn’t guess and so the girls wouldn’t find out, though they all knew there mother was lot more contented now, and knew it was because she had a man), sometimes they would have a quick session in her bedroom when the girls were away (school, university) and Joan was shopping or at her afternoon macrame class (if Jack was at home and not away at work). Both Mimi and Jacqueline had visited him when he was staying away, visiting a customer. The hotel in Woking had been amazed when, on two different nights, a woman had called on him. The receptionist was convinced he must be a fantastic lover; she wondered what he did that made him so popular.

“Oh, a set of Whitworth spanners on special offer! I have to have them.” He actually had all the spanners on offer, but this was a matching set. Three sets had been found in the back warehouse, where they had lain for forty years, unwanted. The price they were offered for was so good, he bought all three sets; convinced he could resell two of them on eBay at a profit.

“Bloody women.” he murmured out loud. A guy with a long, unkempt beard, and a large motorbike out at the front, looked up and said “You got that right, mate.” A momentary connection between people of very different backgrounds.

Back in the car, he drop to Droker Park and bought a coffee in the cafe and read the newspaper for an hour. Saturdays were often like this, when he didn’t have gardening or DIY work to do. He enjoyed a relaxing day.

Back in the Acacia Close, things were moving on. Great minds were composing a plan to enable Jack to have sex with Joan. They were convinced that, if she was a less frustrated old virgin, she might be easier to live with. None of them were thinking ahead, that once might not be enough for Joan.

Jack came back, assuming things would have calmed down, and found smiling, adult, faces. The girls had been sent off, they didn’t need to know any details. Annabel and Jane were still thinking that their ‘gratitude’ was part of the deal, indeed they were somewhat determined that it should be. They wanted to be adults, seen as adults, involved as adults; and grateful, as adults. They’d realised that their mother had found a man, and careful analysis and observation had led them to conclude who that man was. Mimi was sure that she had kept that a secret. Since Jacqueline, next door, appeared to be fine with him playing away with Mimi, why should she object to them also getting involved? They didn’t recognise that a middle aged lady might be less of a problem for Jacqueline to accept compared to two young women with sexy, slim bodies. Both were fairly sure that he must be good, since both older women seemed to be content with him – like the receptionist at the hotel (who was thirty) – they failed to take into account that the older women may be less demanding. It was true that he might try harder than some young teenager with Jane.

“We have a plan. You don’t need to know, for now. But if she is willing, you would be. Yes?”

“Yes, I think so.”

The plan was set. Mimi and Jacqueline began to set the scene. It still wasn’t particularly honest (actually, it was a downright lie), but it might mean that she would be willing to give herself away. She was a born martyr, the more she sacrificed, the more self-justified she felt.

Later, Jacqueline outlined the plan. He thought it unlikely to work “That, dear husband, is because you are a selfish man – like all men. Women are more giving, even Joan. Why do you think I am willing to share you?”

“I thought it was because you knew I wouldn’t leave, so then you were willing to share the job?”

“You arrogant piss artist. You’ve actually got better than you used to be, I quite enjoy it. But Mimi hasn’t got anybody, so I don’t mind letting her test drive you sometimes. I like Mimi, we get on well together. When we went away for the weekend ... you really didn’t mind?”

“No, I know you both wanted to see the gardens there.”

“Yes, though we shared a room.”

“Makes sense, that would be cheaper, and I know you women like to talk.”

“Well ... we shared a bed.”

“You ... right, you mean not just the bed?”

“Do you mind?”

“Why would I?” and it was true, he didn’t; though he did think he’d like to know more what they did.

“Actually, we didn’t; I mean we did share a bed, but it was just because the room only had a double and a small single ... but I think we might, in time. Since you don’t care.”

“I didn’t say I didn’t care, I said I didn’t mind. That’s different. Why would I expect you to be different to me? Course ... if you wanted me to help out?”

“You mean a threesome? Oh ... let me think about that.” She had half expected him to say that. She was starting to understand, again, how men’s minds work. Tits are good, large tits are better, enormous tits are great (actually Jack wasn’t an enormous tit-man, he liked them fondlable, “A good handful is perfect.” he had told her. She liked that, she had a good handful up top, and down below actually. He liked that too.), One woman in bed is good, two woman would be better, and a bevy of females waiting to be bedded by him – great. Though he wasn’t a young man anymore. Probably couldn’t cope with even two women.) Still, four hands playing with her, that might be nice. Yes, she’d think about it. She didn’t need to wonder if Mimi was up for it. She sensed that Mimi was up for all and any sex. Moderation, yes, but variety, definitely.

The plan was for Mimi to hint that she was being pressured by Jack to have sex, she’d suggest that she was unwilling, but felt she had to agree since he had been so kind to them. She imply that she didn’t want to fall out with her neighbour. That was all, she’d just leave the hints to sprout in Joan’s mind.

Then she would tell Joan how Jacqueline was tired of Jack’s incessant demands. “He’s an animal, he seems to be insatiable. I don’t know how she copes.” she’d say. These were designed to be seeds to germinate in Joan’s martyred mind. It would not be a quick conversion.

It would have been much quicker to simply tell her to ‘sling her hook’; but everybody seemed to agree, from oldest to youngest, that the tidal waves of recrimination and bitterness would be too horrible to cope with. And even when (if?) she left, she would latch onto some other deserving cause in the family; and they would come to resent Mimi and her family for passing on this problem.

Even a small amount of murder was suggested – by Susan. “Not anything big, just a little bit.”

“My love.” replied Mimi “I’m not sure you can kill someone a little bit. No, no, tempting as it might be on some occasions to wish her at the bottom of a cliff, we’d all hate ourselves if we did anything like that to her. She is innocent, and she is, I’m sure she is, trying to help; in her own way.”

Mimi and Jacqueline’s plan was the only one, no-one had come up with a viable plan B. They started. Jack knew that they had started, not because they told him, but because Joan gave him a foul look when he saw her a few days later and wished her a cheery hello. He hadn’t realised just how awful he’d become in her eyes first, before, she decided to sacrifice herself on the alter of his supposed unbridled lust.

Actually, it turned out to be much easier than they all expected. Within two weeks, she was setting herself up as a target. She needed help with this. Mimi took her to get her hair done. She needed help with her makeup too. Apparently, her first attempt had Mimi choking back tears of laughter, she looked, she told Jacqueline, like an aged harlot in a colourised Hogarth print – bright red lipstick in a broad stripe, red cheeks and heavy eye shadow. Mimi settled down to clear off the paint, and start again with primer, undercoat, and gloss finish. The three girls all agreed that ‘Aunty Joan’ looked fifteen years younger (since she had previous looked ten years older than her real age, she actually only gained five years really). Mimi acted innocent as to why she, Joan, was getting dressed up. Joan’s martyrdom would have to be secret to make sense.

Subtly – which was difficult with a woman like Joan, who sometimes needed a large stick over the head to hear something she didn’t want to hear – Mimi suggested that she would need to be nice to Jack to win him over. Joan did understand, and set about seducing Jack. The trap had been sprung, Jack just needed to appear initially hesitant and then they had to find the opportunity.

Fate should have decreed that this farce – because it was nothing so much as a bedroom farce from the 1960s – would collapse in chaos about this time. In fact it took an interesting turn that made life easier. “Poor cousin Mildred, she lives in Swansea with a deadbeat husband and eight children.” Joan was explaining – having run in to Jack, ‘accidentally’ (as in “Jack’s just off to Tesco”, “Oh, if I’d known ... there is something I need to get. I’ll just pop over now”), in Tesco and gone for a coffee together in the Tesco cafe; not the most romantic venue, but this was not meant to be a pick up.

“Eight? Lucky guy ... I mean, well” Jack tailed off. Yes, he meant ‘that guy is clearly getting lots of sex’.

“Yes, well, she has to go into hospital overnight – a woman’s problem. So I said I’d go down to look after the kids.”

“You are a wonder, Joan. Funnily enough, I have a job in Port Talbot next week. I’ll be down that way too. Perhaps we could meet up? You might need a quiet dinner after eight children.” It was that simple. They even arranged to return on the Friday, together. If he drove it would save her a train fare. All sorted. Now he was nervous.

“I’ve not. Well.”

“What? Jack. Spit it out.”

“Well, she’s a virgin -”

“We’re pretty sure she is, yes.”

“Supposing I’m, that is, I’ve not. I mean what if -”

“Ooooh, I see. Mimi and I are experienced, we’ll put up with five out of ten; but what if a virgin expects you to be better than you are; is that it?”

“I wouldn’t have put it like that; but, broadly, yes.”

“Don’t sweat it, Mr Sex-machine. She’s giving herself to you to save Mimi – which still makes me laugh, but still – so even if you are rubbish, she’ll not complain. Oh ... and you aren’t rubbish.”

“Jacqueline, you can be cruel.”

“Fuck off! And fuck me! Haha” replied his wife, who had definitely, if very belatedly, found the route in her head to enjoying sex. She wasn’t into quiet, polite, missionary-position-in-the-dark; which had always been the case before; she was into ‘tie me up and tie me down’ sex, she was into ‘shut up and suck me off, wench’ sex. Maybe there was a flaw in her head that meant she had to pretend to be forced; but what the heck, she enjoyed it that way. She even came, sometimes. And she quite liked her Jack forcing an orgasm upon her with a vibrator, in any case.

They met up, ostensibly for dinner. “Hello, you look nice. I hope you like French food.” Jack had contemplated Indian – too spicy – Chinese, Italian, English. He finally settled on French, it carried that slightly odd-fashioned air that he thought Joan would like, and a hint of sophistication. He was trying not to think of ‘getting into her pants’ and more along the lines of a sophisticated seduction. He knew not to mention this at home, for the ribbing and ridicule he would receive. Still, he was right, Joan Ferrers was excited to be taken to, what she had learned in her younger days, was an elegant place to eat.