Chapter 11

The following day breakfast was taken together at a table for two under the glowering, watchful eyes of the three old biddies who would have had heart attacks at the activities of the previous day. They thought two unmarried people at the same table was scandalous, Jack being in a lady’s room would have destroyed that lady’s reputation for ever. Jack kissing her naked tit whilst feeling her up was so far beyond their imagination as snow is to a Bantu tribesman.

Jack did indeed spawn a delightful red shade in Rosemary’s cheeks when he told her of the sounds he had heard from her room; he embellished slightly to encourage her embarrassment.

Their final visit was to St Barnabus School for the Blind. It was a special primary school, a small school established by a caring Anglican priest and a businessman whose daughter was born unable to see. Because of the distances some pupils travelled, the school had shorter school hours; yet they worked wonders in that time. Here was an example of private enterprise and charity achieving much that the state system sometimes smothered with its well-intentioned rules and regulations. The school had little enough money, even with the bequests from Mr Roger Snelgrove in memory of his daughter (who died tragically young in the first motor accident in the county, not that she was run over; she was driving, and she did demonstrate that, even at four miles per hour, a companion to tell her when and where to turn could hardly keep up with the twists and turns of the road and she had dropped into the Lovers’ Canyon off Teribont road, the first and only blind motor accident in the county), Jack wondered if the county might help.

“I’m not sure. I would be loathe to lose our independence you see.” Explained the head.

“Of course, I entirely understand. Perhaps if I propose a grant rather than a payment per pupil, there might be a way of keeping your impressive institution out of the control or influence of our officials. And yet, you see, my visit means you cannot avoid it totally can you? Some influence may be beneficial?”

“Yes” enjoined Miss Turnbull “You, I suspect, see the county as a source of potential undermining of the good you do; yet your successor may similarly be such a source. Having some external influence may help as well as hinder”

He agreed that extra money would be welcome and so it was left that the inspection report (which would be overwhelmingly complimentary, with a few suggestions) would also recommend a payment recognising the responsibilities of the county for its blind children.

The train journey back was interesting in that Miss Turnbull now found herself alone in a first class compartment with Mr Small. If that would have shocked the three old women in the hotel, the conversation would have shocked them more. It covered the ability and propensity of women to enjoy sexual congress with the opposite sex.

Even though she had, for three years now, made play with herself and given herself that thrill from her fingers that a woman can, she confessed that she had never thought that a man might similarly pleasure a woman with his own hand. Still less did she think that the act of married love could be pleasurable to a woman, as pleasurable as to a man. She had believed the pleasure derived solely from the satisfaction of a job well done in pleasing one’s husband. This was the kind of explanation her mother had provided to her. Her mother had explained sex as the messy, dirty, disgusting, punishment from God for disobedience. Now, instead of obeying God, the woman must obey the man, her husband or her father, or her brother. Rosemary (they were on first name terms, both thought that if one has seen a woman’s naked body then one was past formal titles, at least in private) had moved away a little from this, seeing herself as able to think for herself; but she had not thought of herself as a potential equal sexual partner.

“I do assure you, it is true. A man, in the correct position, may stimulate and excite a woman with his body in the same way that you do with your hand.”

“You know this from personal experience?”

“Well, yes, yes I do. But there are other ways as well”

He explained about entering from behind and pleasuring the woman with a hand; she was intrigued. How was it possible? She thought of her body’s makeup below ... and so did he. He formed a hard rod in his trousers which at first she affected not to notice, but could not totally ignore. Was this, she asked him the famed male priapic? Was he then intending to impose himself on her here? She was actually, just a little, excited at the prospect of being ravaged on a train, and both relieved and disappointed when told that, no, of course he would not. He was able to control his emotions and actions, no matter what some defendants claimed in court.

“Is it that I am not exciting enough?” she asked

“No, not at all. There is nothing I’d like more than to ... that is to say ... to...”

“To fuck me?” Oh that felt liberating, to say that word that she had heard at school and had had explained to her. Oh it made her ‘place’ tingle.

Jack Small was genuinely shocked that she even knew that word. He sat for a while and then responded, “Yes, just so. But no man is so entirely out of control that he cannot control his actions. The erection is simply a physiological response to a pretty woman or a thought.”

“So, not entirely able to control then?” An idea, a pretty idea, a naughty idea, began to grow in her mind. The guard came to check their tickets. “I wonder ... we have some delicate matters of education to discuss. The train is not busy is it? Would it be possible to...”