Chapter 4

I was reading the other day about some of the strange things that children believe, and I guess we all have some strange recollections. Me? Well when I was about five my dad bought one of those things for embossing your name and address on note paper. It was not unlike a hole punch, except that it had male and female blocks in its jaws between which you put the paper and then pressed down on the handle and hey presto! Your address. The blocks could be replaced when you moved house, which to that point, as far as I knew, we never had. Of course with almost everyone using computers and printers nowadays these things are obsolete. But it was something that was quite fascinating to a small boy. Now, I was an inquisitive little bugger and in the course of examining my, then, tiny frilly bits, just a bit bigger now, I discovered that there was a rough area of skin between the little more than a soft bump behind my umm ... not sure what it was called but it was where wee came out, and where, once a day at mother’s insistence, something else came out. Putting two and two together and coming up with a completely indeterminate number, I decided that at some point someone must have embossed my name and address there, so that in the event I got lost, something I’m sure my elder brother and sister would have preferred to be permanent, then I could be returned to the bosom of my loved ones. Exclude the afore mentioned from that.

Now I’m sure you are wondering why I have bothered to give you that fascinating insight into the peculiarities of my immature mind, indeed there are those who would suggest that it hasn’t changed a lot, but it crossed my mind because at that very moment Joan had her fingers pressing on whatever was under there with the idea that it would delay my orgasm.

“Oh, yesss ... ooooh, don’t you fucking dare, aah ... I’m ... near ... ly ... THERE!” her orgasm arrived and she removed her fingers, and I swear it felt like fire hose going off.

Well, that was different.

“Women’s magazine, can’t remember which one.” Was the first thing she said a few minutes later when she could focus again.

Right, I was going to ask where she learnt that trick.

“What’s the body count now?”

“Sorry?”

“The number of children you’ve got.”

“Oh! Let’s see. Ruth and Louise, two for you, well and a bit for the one on the way, Kate one and a hopefully bit...”

“You forgot the vicar.”

“Oh yes, so that’s ... Oh shit!”

I did say that that big black porkie would return to bite me on my bum, sooner or later. I wasn’t too sure whether this was sooner ... or later. I didn’t get much time to contemplate that.

“Ha! Gotcha! You really are a swine.”

“I was a blackguard last time.”

“Don’t interrupt. You lied about it...” this went on for some while and finally, “ ... if you think you’re going to get anywhere near me in future you just think again.”

And with that she stormed out.

Well I’m buggered, a bit of an over reaction I thought, but after that I felt that going into town to relax over coffee and one of Julian’s ‘to die for confections’, which probably contained enough calories and cholesterol to make that a prophesy, would be a good idea

“There you are dear,” said Sandy bringing out my coffee and confection. “And don’t chat up that girl over there because you’d get a surprise. On the other hand you couldn’t get her pregnant.”

He went back in with a big grin and I sat there stirring my coffee and contemplating the confection. I looked up and inadvertently – liar - caught the girl’s eye. She smiled and a minute or two later made a move as if to join me. Now, don’t get me wrong here, on a normal day I’d have been perfectly happy to chat to her, more than that well who knows, but today I would prefer to be alone with my thoughts. That, however, was not to be, because Ruth and Louise arrived and the girl altered course, gave me a smile and a little wave and left.

“Thought we’d find you here,” said Ruth. “Have you ever upset mother. Your chances of getting in her knickers again are pretty small.”

“I really don’t see what all the fuss is about.”

“She says you lied to her,” said Louise. “What about though? She wouldn’t tell us.”

“I’m not going to tell you either.”

“Well now,” said Ruth, she looked at Louise and grinned, “mother says you’re not getting any from her, so since you’re not getting any from us you are going to be going short.”

And that is what you think young ladies.

“But...” went on Louise, “in exchange for a little information we might have a solution for you.”

“Yeah, yeah. I know you two, you’ll give me a copy of one of your videos and tell me to use my hand.”

“How can you say that?” asked Louise. “You know jolly well we wouldn’t part with one of our videos.”

They were sitting close to me on either side, stroking a thigh each.

“We’ve got a much better idea than that,” continued Ruth.

“Could it be with the girl who just left?” I said. “And stop doing that, this is a public place.”

“With him?” laughed Ruth. “Not your sort of thing at all.”

“Him?”

“Yes, not a girl really.”

“Oh. I see what Sandy meant.”

Louise looked thoughtful. “It’s an idea though.”

They both laughed.

“Where are the children by the way?”

“Rosina’s looking after them. That’s what we wanted to talk to you about.”

“Oh no. I’ve gotta go.”

And suiting action to words I struggled to my feet and kissed each one. They were particularly enthusiastic, until Sandy suggested that they didn’t run ‘that’ kind of establishment and would we like to take it else where.

“Yes!” said the girls in unison.

“No! I really have got work to do.” I said and left.

On the way back to the car park I passed the ‘girl’ looking in a shop window. I have to say that she really was pretty, and I really wouldn’t have known if I hadn’t been told. Hell, I couldn’t tell even though I did know. She looked up as I was approaching.

I smiled, “Hello again.”

“Hello Roger. Have you known Ruth and Lou long?”

“Ever since I moved here. I’d watch them if I were you, I think they’ve got plans.”

“For me? Hmm ... the vixens always did hunt as a pair.”

“You’ve known them a while?”

“School.”

“And you know my name.”

“I’m a friend of Rosina, she told me about you. I’m Charlotte, Charley to my friends.”

“I’ll remember that, Charley.” I replied with a smile, and went on to the car park. Hey, come on, I’ve got enough problems. The one that was going to cause more fuss was the fact that Catherine was pregnant again. Oh yes, Catherine is the vicar, you can hardly carry on calling someone vicar when you’re doing that sort of thing can you?

“You’ve upset Joan again.”

“You make it sound as though I do that quite often.”

“Well?”

I’d popped in to see how HL was getting on and decided that it perhaps wasn’t the best idea, although if she was going to express her displeasure I might as well get it over with because it wasn’t going away. I retired to my office.

A little later on Joan arrived with a mug of tea and a slice of cake. She banged it down on my desk and left.

“I don’t suppose she wants to hear the latest gossip then,” I said, loud enough for her to hear s she left.

Amazingly she reappeared at the door. Who was going to be first to speak.

Her.

“My daughters knew all about the vicar.”

So that sorted that out.

“Sorry? What do you mean? They were desperately trying to get the information out of me this morning”

“Little bitches, when I said you’d lied to me they said they knew all about that, so I assumed they already knew.”

“That is what they wanted you to think. Divide and rule. Very clever. Surely you know what they are like by now. Where did they get it from?”

“Granny, their father’s mum. Was he ever pissed off when she left them the house and money. Anyway, what other gossip is there?”

“You have to promise not to tell.”

By this time she had really perked up.

“Cross my heart.”

“Catherine is pregnant again.”

“Oooh! I’m going to enjoy spreading that one.”

“You just promised not to tell.”

Her expression changed as what I had said really sank in.

“You swine,” she yelled, coming up to me and starting to beat my chest with her fists, “you’ve done it again.”

She burst in to tears and I held her tight against me, which was a good way of stopping her beating me up. A minute or two later she stopped and looked up at me. So I bent and kissed her.

“Pig,” she repeated when we broke off, but with much less vehemence. “I am not going to submit to you.”

I kissed her again, a bit longer this time, and in what seemed short order we into the the usual, “Oooh ... yes, yes, just there ahhh ... don’t stop.” I had stopped. “Why have you stopped?”

“You aren’t going to say anything about Catherine are you?”

“No, no, I promise now get on with iiittt, oooh, thatsss, just iittt...”

And so on, I mean you can only listen to so much of that can’t you?

A couple of days later I went on another walk. Catherine was there with a carrying frame for baby Joanna, a sort of aluminium frame with straps everywhere.

“How are you going to manage with another one?” I asked.

“No problem, you are going to carry this one and I’ll carry the other. But for today you can have a try with this.”

So I ended up carrying the baby, fair enough I suppose, she’d carried it for nine months on her own.

“How are you getting on, are there going to be problems with the bishop?”

“I don’t think so. More problems with the local biddies led by Miss Blasted Maitland, up ahead there.”

“I’m sure she wasn’t christened with that.”

“No, far worse, Edith.”

“Do you want me to see if I can persuade her that it’s a good idea.”

“You got to be joking!”

We set off and a few minutes later I was walking alongside Alison.

After the usual greeting and comments on the baby...

“Are you going to come and see Diana again?”

“Of course, I told her I would.”

“Next Tuesday?”

“Yes, that’s good.”

“I’ll look forward to it.”

I looked at her and raised an eyebrow in question...

She had the good grace to blush, “Make sure she’s happy...”

She didn’t need to say ‘first’.

A little while later I was alongside Edith Maitland and we exchanged a few observations about the views and the countryside. I guessed she was late fifties to early sixties and not unattractive but for the set of her face which could best be described as sour.

“I see you are carrying the vicar’s baby.”

“Seemed like a gentlemanly thing to do.”

“Hmm.”

“It sounds rather as though you don’t approve.”

“I do not.”

I was about to wade into deep water.

“Care to enlarge on that.”

“I do not approve of babies borne out of wedlock.”

“There’s an awful lot of them.”

“Yes. Society is really is heading downhill. And the church is only helping it. We are saddled with an immoral vicar and the bishop only supports her.”

“So the changes in society that mean many women don’t feel the need to have a man permanently in their lives are wrong? Perhaps women are fed up with being chattels, being under a man’s thumb.”

“There are many changes that are for the better, of course. But many are not.”

“True, but very often what follows from one change is unexpected, and unintended. So allowing women to own property, to vote and getting them to work in factories during wartime have empowered women and they are no longer prepared to be downtrodden, chained to he kitchen sink as it were.”

“I shall have to think about that. Now, I was hoping I’d see you, and not to have in depth discussions. I have a problem with my heating system and I cannot seem to get a local plumber to look at it. D’you think you’d be able to advise me?”

We made an appointment for me to go and have a look.