Chapter 1

After Ben had raped me, I’d hid in my room for hours. Then when I did emerge to face up to Ben, I found just his note?

It told me he was sorry over what had happened and had gone to stay with his chum Ralph at Carlton Manor; and I hadn’t the faintest idea where that was?

Oddly, the following day I felt that the affair had ended a period of emotional isolation for me. Suddenly I felt more alive; at the centre of something.

I needed to see Ben, to start afresh. Without him at home I was simply alone again.

Then out of the blue an unexpected letter arrived.

It was from Iris Carlton- Hawes of Carlton Manor; Ralph’s mother.

Its content was exciting yet it raised ambiguous questions.

It read-:

6th April : 1968

Dear Mrs. Margo Chiverton.

I do hope you will welcome this letter.

Ben asked if I would let you know that he’s OK but missing you.

He’s been worried over the scrap you had together last week.

Ben and Ralph share their lives together almost like brothers.

I regard Ben as a wonderful chap and so enjoy his company here at Carlton Manor. In fact Ben has asked me if he could work here at the manor?

I am thrilled at the prospect as your son could be invaluable here. But naturally that is for you to decide.

So would you accept my invitation to stay with us soon, giving you an opportunity to see for yourself if Ben is making a wise choice?

May I share something personal with you Mrs. Chiverton?

With my Ralph’s passage through adolescence, I found our relationship altered. Suddenly there’s a man about the house, if you see what I mean.

Unsettling at first but handled carefully, can be very gratifying. Perhaps there’s some common ground we could share together here?

I would so much like to meet you and it would be wonderful if you could visit Carlton Manor and stay with us soon.

Yours Sincerely

Iris Carlton-Hawes of Carlton Manor.

Isle of Wight. Hampshire, England.

...

At Carlton Manor Iris and I were reclining in sun chairs, secluded by shrubs and flowers.

The azure blue sky was traced with high stratus and the scent of Jasmine was in the air.

Here within the grounds of Carlton Manor life felt far from the madness of the war in Europe.

And after my happy reunion here with Ben just earlier, the lads had jaunted off together.

It made me smile with relief at how short our trauma lasted and was now transforming.

Now we could chat about Ben’s prospects of working through the summer here at the manor.

I found Iris an attractive woman with fair bubbly hair and hazel eyes that sparkled while she spoke. Her voice had unmistakable breeding and the polo jumper she wore failed to conceal her fine shapely figure. This was a woman I felt I could admire.

“There’s plenty for Ben to take on here Margo.” Iris was saying, “The war-effort took the last of our workers away some while ago.”

As I listened, I felt naturally at ease with her and found her enthusiasm in the face of austerity infectious as she spoke on,

“Oh Margo, There’s so much I want to show you here. It’s an ideal place for our lads to share together this summer. I’m sure you’ll feel the same in a day or so and I have a lovely little room ready for you”

Iris would have to be in her mid thirties like myself yet had that confidence of a woman in control. She was wearing jodhpurs and as we came up to the stable yard it occurred to me she rode horses. “Do you ride much Iris?” I asked peering into the stable.

“Only a hack round the lanes when the weather’s OK; how about yourself?”

“Well, I sometimes get my bike out on a fine day.” I quipped, “How many horses are there?” I inquired.

Iris laughed, “Only my gelding now, he’s grazing in the meadow: several were stabled here before the war but with the price of hay in the winter...”

“Is your husband in the war Iris?” I asked cautiously.

There was an uncomfortable silence before she answered.

“Ronald was lost in Afghanistan over six months ago Margo.” She replied evenly.

“I’m so sorry.” I mumbled awkwardly, my blunder causing me to blush.

Iris slid her hand through my arm. It’s OK Margo ... really, she said simply, “Come on! Lets show you the kitchen garden.”

Later, in the cool of the library we relaxed into deep cushioned armchairs and with each of us holding a generous glass of brandy Iris took a deep sigh and began quietly recounting her life at the Manor to me.