Date: Tue, 15 Nov 2016 21:36:29 +0000
From: Henry Hilliard <h.h.hilliard@hotmail.com>
Subject: Noblesse Oblige (Revised) Book 3 Chapter 5

From Henry Hilliard and Pete Bruno h.h.hilliard@hotmail.com

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Noblesse Oblige

by Henry H. Hilliard
with Pete Bruno

Book 3
The Bells of Hell Go a Ting-a-ling-a-ling

Chapter 5
All Clear



...Come, come drink some port wine with me
Down at the Old Bull and Bush.
Hear the little German band
Da, da, da, da, da, da-da
Just let me hold your hand, dear-ah
Do, do, do have a drink or two
Down at the Old Bull and Bush!
Bush! Bush!


The singers sang with appropriate gusto and, arms about each other, swayed
to Corporal Quick's mouth organ.  Mrs Smith, the housekeeper, executed a
neat one-step with Glass the butler.  Martin sat in a chair and hit a
saucepan lid in time with the music while Stephen sat beside him in his
wheelchair.

"Higgins," said Uncle Alfred, "go up and see if they're announcing the `All
Clear'."

"It might be the last you see me, your lordship, if them heroplanes is
h'overhead," said the valet as he disappeared up the stairs and through the
green baize door.



The household of Branksome House had taken shelter in the wine cellar
beyond the servants' hall and had made themselves as comfortable as best as
they could with blankets, cushions and kitchen chairs when the official
motor car bearing the sign `Take Cover!' had slowly traversed Piccadilly,
shouting a warning through a megaphone.

The household had swelled with the return of Martin's uncle and his
manservant from Croome.  Uncle Alfred was back in his old uniform and
dividing his time between the Red Cross in support of Indian troops in
London and his more personal support for Stephen's Sans Culottes, some of
whom were billeted in Branksome House itself.

This move had delighted Stephen who had a strong affection for all his men
who had served him so bravely in the frightful conditions in France.  He
was pleased that their new task for the Army Service Corps would be
somewhat less a sentence of death and that, at present, his boys were
enjoying leave in the great metropolis.  Uncle Alfred was also delighted
for he saw in these young soldiers something of his own young self and all
that was familiar from a life spent in the British Army.

The cook from Croome had been sent up to London along with two maids.  Both
houses had lost many staff to the services and to the factories.  There
were no footmen at all and the number of servants in Branksome House had
been reduced from twenty to just three maids plus Mr and Mrs Smith, the two
valets and Glass the butler.

Four rooms had been set-aside for the soldiers.  Each of the bedrooms was
provided with an extra bed and Sgt Spinner had a room to himself.  The
fourth room had become their mess where the men could comfortably sit
around in their undershirts in the warmth of the steam heating, playing
cards or reading, very often with other members of the Sans Culottes
dropping in to partake of the conviviality.  No one was denied a bed or `a
feed'.

"This place is like Buk'nam Palace," said Quick who delighted in pressing
the electric bell, only to then tell Glass that it was a mistake.

"Yes, better'n the Ritz Hotel" said Rugg sitting in a Bergere chair with
his hand on the radiator.  "Blimey it's hot in here."

"That's Lord Alfred's doing," said Stephen who had walked into the room
wearing just his lemon-silk pyjama bottoms.  The men all stood and saluted.
"He has it turned up to remind him of India.  I should have knocked men,
I'm sorry.  I just wondered if you'd like some beer and a game of cards?"

"I don't know that we are allowed to drink and play cards with an officer,
sir," said Sgt Spinner.

"I won't tell Lloyd George if you don't," said Stephen, with a grin.

"Them's very fancy pantaloons, Captain," said Rugg, feeling the luxurious
material that scarcely bothered to conceal Stephen's arching cock and
swinging balls. "It's a wonder you could stand it out on the Somme when
you're used to all this luxury," he said with a sweep of his hand that
encompassed the Bergere armchairs, a Louis XV escritoire, a Tang vase, a
small Gainsborough and Stephen's dumbbells.

"Now you know, Rugg, that I wasn't born to all this.  I came from a country
cottage and I was adopted by the previous Lord Branksome when I was at
school."

"Could he adopt me, sir, I'm an orphan?"

"And me sir," said West. "My old lady don't know who my real father
is--least that's what she tells him when her blood's up."

Stephen pressed the bell and the soldiers looked at each other.  Glass
appeared and said, with slight asperity: "Yes?  Oh it's you, Captain, I'm
sorry."

Stephen looked at his men and then turned to the servant and said, "Could
you bring us some beer please, Mr Glass?"

Stephen produced a deck of cards.

"Sir," said Myles, "could we see your Military Cross?"

"I haven't got it here and I'm not wearing anything to pin it to."  "No not
that one; that one," he said, pointing to Stephen's patriotically pruned
pubic hair, which was just visible above waist of the silk pyjamas.
Stephen stood and lowered it slightly to reveal Carlo's skilful shaving to
an outline carefully copied by Martin in an indelible pencil.

"I can't see it all," complained Quick.  "How many sides has it got?"

Stephen undid the cord and the garment cascaded to the floor.

"That's a splendid sight, sir," said Myles.  "I see you have other
decorations too, sir -- like General Robert's chest it is.  That's two bob
you owe me, Spinner."

Stephen pulled up his pyjamas and looked at Sgt Spinner just as Glass came
in with the beer.  "He bet me that he could get you to show him your
privates, sir, before the end of the day," said Spinner with a sigh.

"You of all people should have known me better, Spinner!" laughed
Stephen. "Sit down and we'll play five hundred.  You might win it back."



With difficulty, Stephen had made it to Wigmore Street in his wheelchair
guided by Carlo.  The former concert hall was not to be theirs alone, but
they were to have a goodly portion of it and Stephen planned out on a piece
of paper where the desks, cabinets and map tables should be placed.  Lt
Toomey was good at requisitioning these sorts of things and Stephen also
wanted him to get a special swinging display rack for the large charts that
Stephen thought would be a feature of their work.  He also put in an
application for a telephone.

"A desk over here can be for Lt. Fortune," he said to Carlo.  "He will need
somewhere quiet to work.  I like to be in the centre of things so I'll sit
here.  The typistes can go over here and I think the men would be best in
three groups--although they won't all be in London together very often."
Carlo made notes.  "I will need shelves for reports, Carlo.  I have been
given some copies of other reports made by the army so I can see how to set
them out and how to use Army language."

"Right, Captain," said Carlo writing, "Shelves, office-type, wooden,
painted finish, cream colour, one set of."

"Can you think of anything else we might need, Carlo?"

"No sir, but the chaps could be getting a bit restless in-between `flaps'
as they say, just sitting around like."

"Oh I'll keep them busy, Carlo."

"I was thinking, sir, could they have somewhere to exercise?"

"That's a good idea Carlo, perhaps not in the Hall, but maybe at Branksome
House; I could set up some games and equipment in a room--or better still
in the mews. Could we make a gymnasium out there?"

"I don't see why not, sir, there's plenty of room, but I'd like to see you
riding again when your leg's better."

"So would I, Carlo.  I'd have Aine brought up if there was someone here to
exercise and groom her."

"Send her up anyway, sir, and maybe another horse.  I'm sure someone would
look after them.  Lord Alfred and Mr Glass is fond of horses if you and his
lordship can't find time do it.  It would do you good, sir, and some of the
men can ride."



The Sans Culottes, with their skills in rapid construction, soon had the
wall knocked out between the old harness room and a loose box in the
mews. The brick floor was re-laid in parts and soon all was in readiness
for the exercise equipment that Stephen had Carlo order.  Martin went
across to see the finished gymnasium where a group of the sappers was busy
using the barbells and the punching bag.  They stopped and straightened
into a salute that Martin returned, telling them to `carry on'.  However
they did not resume with their earlier enthusiasm and Martin, feeling that
his presence was spoiling their fun, departed for Boodles where he met
Lt. Featherstonhaugh who was drinking gin.

"How are you, Custard; you don't look well?"

"A touch of malaria, Poole, I came down with it just after Homonodos."

Custard had been out in Salonika, attached to Major General Milne with the
XVI Corps.  "We pushed the Bulgars back and prevented the Germans from
descending on Greece, but the General doesn't think we could ever get
across the mountains to cut the railway to Constantinople, although the
bloody French keep pushing us to.  I say how's your pal Knight-Poole?"

Martin launched into a précis of Stephen's activities and related
the story of the Military Cross and bar.  "He has his men with him in
London in preparation for special operations with the ASC.  He had a bad
time of it in France, but now he's very happy, despite still being confined
to the chair for another few weeks.  He thinks more of those men than he
does of me."

"I doubt that, Poole, but if you ever want to give him up, I'll take him
off your hands," he said feeling a thrill at his own suggestion.

Martin decided that wouldn't be happening and they moved on to discuss The
Plunger and then launched into the depressing list of school chums who had
lost their lives.  "Grandfather told me that Crumble copped it at Ypres and
poor Topper and Fashom-Greene went down on the Britannic off Greece just a
fortnight ago..."

Martin returned to Branksome House where Stephen was busy giving his men a
foot inspection.  "There's not too much trench foot in Tooting, sir," said
Jarvis," who had his foot up on Stephen's knee while Stephen peered between
the toes.

"You can't be too careful Jarvis," replied Stephen.  I've seen men from
Clapham have to have their feet amputated because of gangrene.  Are you
still itching?"

"Not much sir; that new powder seems to be better."

"Let me see."

Jarvis undid his trousers and his person was inspected for lice by his
commanding officer who then produced a fine tooth comb and gently combed
Jarvis's body hair for `nits'.  It was gentle and very loving-- like
affection shown to a pet--and Stephen was concentrating hard while Jarvis
had a faraway look on his face.

"I'm a bit lousy, sir," piped up Myles, "will you do me next?"

"And me!" said Quick, "I've been with some dirty tarts as well, sir."

Martin entered the room and the men all stood to attention and saluted,
except for Stephen who remained seated.  Martin watched in fascination as
the grooming continued and said: "Captain, would you like me to get Dr
Markby to come up from Croome?  He could give all the San Culottes a once
over, if you're worried."  The men giggled at Colonel Poole's use of their
private name.

"That would be first rate, sir.  He could see them all here or at the
Wigmore Hall, if he preferred.  I hope to have them fattened up and free
from lice before their leave is up."

"Your Aine is here and waiting for you."

The men looked surprised.  "Aine is my horse," explained Stephen.

Martin felt he was intruding and left and went to the mews.  Stephen's
pretty mare was in her stall tossing her head and Sean O'Brien was putting
straw into the next stall, which housed Palmira, the grey mare that Martin
often rode.

"Dey were as good as gold, your lordship.  Will you be able to manage them,
for I have to go back tomorrow?  The Remount is coming to look at more
horses on Tursday and Uncle and I will want to be having them in the best
shape."

"Oh yes, O'Brien, I think so.  I will take Pamira out every morning and one
of the men will exercise Aine until Mr Stephen's leg is better.  It cheers
me up to see them," said Martin rubbing Pamira's nose.  She snorted her
approval.

"Yes sir, horses and dogs do a power o'good for da soul, sir."

"Yes, dogs..." said Martin.

Just then Private Myles wandered in.  "Oh excuse me sir, I just wanted to
see the animals."

"That's fine, Private Myles?"

"That's right, sir," said Myles, stroking Aine.  "I was brought up on an
estate in Norfolk and I miss the horses worse than anything."

Martin looked at Myles.  He was the youngest of the Sans Culottes and was a
solid lad and quite attractive in a gentle sort of way, with blue eyes and
cheeks that still had some of the rosy hue that spoke of country life,
despite his months in France.

"How old are you private?"

"18, sir.  I was not quite 17 when I joined up. I'd been a surveyor's
assistant in Norwich but I grew up near Aylsham; lovely land along the Bure
it is for riding, sir."

"That's near my late brother's friend, Philip Kerr's people."

"Yes, that's right sir, Lord Philip is the third son of the Marquess of
Lothian.  My father worked at Blickling Hall.  Lord Phillip is now working
for Lloyd George, sir."

By now they had both picked up currycombs and were intent on making
circular motions on the flanks of Aine.  "This is the Captain's horse,
sir?"

"Yes, she is, but he won't be riding her for a while yet.  She will need
exercise every day.  Would you like to take her to the Park, Myles; you'd
have to get up early?"

"Oh, that would be an honour, sir.  I mean an honour to take out the
Captain's horse, sir.  We'd do anything to help the Captain, sir.  And
getting up is no problem for a county lad.  I'm up early for a walk even
here in London, sir.  Most mornings I'm just returning when I see Mr Glass
bringing the tea to you and the Captain, first thing."

Martin paused his brushing and pondered on what Myles's last comment meant.
He resumed his motions and Myles repeated: "Yes, nothing is too good for
the Captain. He saved my life in France, sir, did you know that?"

"Yes, I think so, Myles.  We are all very lucky to have him."

"When we're with the Captain," continued the sapper, "I know we are going
to win the War.  It's not that he ever says anything about it; it's just
that you feel sort of confident when he's with you--all the men feel it;
it's like riding a strong horse and you knowing that he will make that
fence--or perhaps it's that we're the horses and the Captain is riding us
hard.  Do you know what I mean, sir?"  They had changed to lighter brushes
and they were both working on the same side of Aine now, their hands
accidentally colliding.  "I bet the Captain rides hard, sir, when he's in
the saddle."  Martin thought that his was an accurate assessment but said
nothing.  "Will you be taking out Pamira tomorrow, sir?"

"Yes, I think I will. We'll go together, shall we, Myles?  We'll have to
get to Hyde Park early before the traffic and so I'll get Private Sifridi
to call me at six. Shall I get him to wake you too, Myles?"


That night Martin slid into bed next to Stephen who had his hands clasped
behind his head and was obviously thinking.

"Derby," began Martin, "I think I intimidate your men, I'm sorry."

"That's all right, Mala, I think they're far too cheeky with me."

"I like private Myles; we're going to exercise the horses tomorrow in
Rotten Row. Myles loves you Derby."

"Yes, he's such a flirt, that young one."

"So I've discovered.  He said I had a very fine seat.  You don't mind, do
you?"

"No, not at all."  He motioned with his eyes for Martin to feast in his
armpits.

"Oh, I hoped you would, just a little bit," said Martin.  He plunged in and
when he came up for air he suddenly said: "Derby, can I have a puppy?"

"Why, young Martin, we'll have to ask Nanny first," said Stephen laughing.
"What a splendid idea.  This house needs a dog--two dogs.  What breed did
you have in mind?"

"Well, no breed actually.  Miss Foxton was telling me about a woman in
Whitechapel--a Mrs Dickin--who is trying to do something about the cruel
treatment of animals in the East End.  She has all these dogs in her home
in Hampstead and I thought it would be nice to get a stray-- a mongrel;
they often make the best dogs rather than the pure breeds, don't you
think?"

"You mean a bit like me?"

"Yes.  Now roll over!"

Stephen rolled on his stomach and Martin tongued the cleavage of Stephen's
strong, muscular buttocks, which still smelled of soap from his bath. He
then reached for the Spong's Soothing Salve (by Appointment to H.M. King
George V) and liberally applied it to Stephen and to his own plump cock.
He entered Stephen slowly.  "How does that feel, Derby?" asked Martin
needlessly, for Stephen's moans were eloquence itself.  Martin then rode
him hard, almost thinking that he would not need to exercise in Rotten Row
on the morrow.


*****


Martin drove Stephen, Carlo and Glass to the Wigmore Hall.  He looked
around at Stephen's new headquarters and was impressed by how efficiently
Stephen was setting it up and marvelled at the huge and complicated charts
that traced the workings of the ASC.  He left him with Lt Toomey and in the
care of Carlo.  He regained the motor and, with Glass reading the ABC,
turned left into Great Portland Street and headed north to the breezy
heights of Hampstead.  Martin pulled the Rolls Royce to a halt in front of
a villa in Highgate Road and got out.  Mrs Dickin was at home the maid said
and presently the lady herself appeared holding a white rabbit.

"Lord Branksome, I'm very pleased to meet you.  Miss Foxton said you would
be by today and I have picked out two darling puppies for you."  She took
Martin out into the garden where a terrific sound of yapping was emanating
from a battery of wire cages.  Two ponies were tethered to a post and were
lazily cropping the lawn while a goat feasted on a fragrant bush of
Hamamelis mollis.  "I am hoping to set up a dispensary for animals right in
the heart of Whitechapel and your generous cheque will help.  I would like
it to be a Toynbee Hall for abused and sick animals, your lordship.  Here
they are."

She reached into a straw-lined box and drew out two wriggling little pups,
just a few weeks old.  "Their poor mother I found beaten and abused by the
Thames and she was pregnant.  These two survived from a litter of six and
their poor mother died of exhaustion giving birth.  I raised these two on a
baby's bottle."

The dogs were a boy and a girl of several noble breeds and Martin fell for
them at once.  Instantly the bitch was to be Vesta--for Vesta Tilley--and
the boy was to be Billy after the late Billy Williams who always made
Martin laugh with his comic songs such as When Father Papered the Parlour.

They were carried out to the Rolls Royce and placed into the care of Glass
where they immediately began to climb all over him.  Martin swung the crank
and the engine started.  Immediately the puppies cowered into their box, to
the relief of Glass whose suit was already ruined, and Martin was off,
waving farewell to Mrs Dickin who stood at the gate with a parrot on her
shoulder.


*****


Glass gave a butler's cough.  Martin and Stephen were sitting in the
drawing room--the Sans Culottes being out on the town, while Uncle Alfred
was at Windsor with his friend, the young Maharaja of Rajpipla.

"What is it Glass?" said Martin looking up from David Blaize .  "There's
been some trouble below stairs, sir."

"Go on, Glass," said Martin.

"It's Ruby, sir, the upstairs maid.  She thinks she may be in a certain
condition."

Martin sighed.  "Well give her a three months' pay and make sure she has
somewhere to go."

"Very good, sir."  Martin returned to his book.

"Just a minute, Mr Glass," said Stephen who was reading King of the Kyber
Rifles.  "Do you mind if I stick my oar in, Mala?"

"No, Derbs, this is your house too, but I tell you, my mother only gave
them one month's pay and they thought themselves lucky."

"Tell us more, Mr Glass," said Stephen.

"Well sir, it seems she went out with Janet on their evening off four weeks
ago and the silly girls had too much to drink at the Harp of Erin and then
met some soldiers. Sometime later she found herself separated from Janet in
a passageway where the--ah--intimacy seems to have taken place."

"So is she sure that she is with child, Glass?"

The butler went red and said: "I don't know about such things, Captain."

"If she is, Derby, it sends a very poor message to the other maids.
Perhaps she can have it adopted out and I'm sure she could find a job in
one of the munitions factories."

Stephen said nothing to him but addressed Glass: "Could you bring her here
and maybe Mrs Smith would like to join us too."  Glass left and Stephen
turned on Martin. "Mala! How can you be so awful?  Don't you feel for the
poor girl?  You can't just give up a baby like that.  My own mother had to
marry again.  Should she have just given me to an orphanage and got a job
in a munitions factory and forgot all about me?"

"But that was different, Derby..."

"No it wasn't!" he replied quite angrily.  Martin was a little frightened
and lapsed into a sulky silence.

Ruby appeared with Mrs Smith.

"Could you tell us what happened, Ruby?" asked Stephen.

"Well, she went out with that..." began Mrs Smith.

"No, Mrs Smith, I'd like to hear it from Ruby--unless you were at the Harp
of Erin too."

The girl was crying but managed to give an account, albeit surrounded by a
constellation of superfluous details.  "...and then I think I must have
left them in the snug and gone out into the road--I remember feeling ill
and I think I was sick in the gutter, sir.  Ruined my good puce blouse.
Then I went into the passage that led to the wood yard and I may have sat
down.  Then the next thing I know this Tommy is with me..."

"What do you mean, `with me', Ruby?"

"Well sir, I don't like to say in front of his lordship."

"Don't mind me," said Martin who was still sulking.

"Well sir, he had my skirt up and my bloomers down and he was having his
way with me.  I could smell his beery breath.  It were horrible.  He were
horrible."

"Was the man one of my men, Ruby?"

"Oh no, sir, they is all lovely--don't even think it sir.  I'd know him if
I saw him, I think.

"You mean he was not one of the men you were drinking with in the Harp of
Erin?"

"Oh no sir, they was sailors; this man were in the army."

"And you had never seen him before?"  Ruby shook her head.

"Mrs Smith, Martin: this girl has been raped.  She cannot be blamed."

"She shouldn't have been the worse for drink, Captain," said Mrs Smith.
"She brought it on herself."

"That is not the punishment for having too much to drink, Mrs Smith, even
if it is the result in this case."

"Are you sure you are with child, Ruby?"  Stephen said turning to her.

"I can't be sure, sir," she said, between sobs.  "I've never had any
experience."

"I think she should see a doctor."

"There's one comes to the workhouse," said Mrs Smith.

"Is he the one who took your tonsils out two years ago, Mrs Smith?"

"No, Captain," she said, chastened.

"Perhaps you could leave us a minute, Mrs Smith."  The housekeeper took a
hard look at Ruby and then looked at Martin, who offered no help, and
withdrew.  "Ruby," began Stephen, "you might not even be with child.  I
hope you're not.  Do you want to have a child by this man if you are
pregnant?"

"No sir, of course not."

"Well, maybe the doctor could make sure that you are not going to have a
baby."  Ruby looked bewildered at first and then said: "Oh sir, I don't
think that would be right.  I couldn't."

"Well I don't see why you should have to suffer because a stranger raped
you.  He should be brought before the courts.  I won't even ask you if you
want to go to the police."

"Oh no sir, not the police.  I'd die of shame."

"Think about what I said, Ruby, and I'll ask you tomorrow when you come and
see me.  Avoid talking to anyone--especially Mrs Smith--and make up your
own mind."

The girl left and Stephen waited for Martin to turn on him.  "Derby, do you
know what you're suggesting is illegal?"

"Yes it is illegal, like what we do in bed."

"No, this is different.  This wrong.  It's a baby.  The Bible..."

"It's not a baby and the Bible says a lot of things.  I'm sure it's not in
favour of inverts like us and I don't think it condones rape from what I
remember.  That girl is a victim, so I don't want to hear the Bible
mentioned again."

Martin was silent for some time.  Then he said, "Well, what are we going to
do."

"Well, I want you to go and see your sensible friend, Miss Foxton.  I think
she could talk to Ruby and she'll know a good doctor.  Maybe she should
talk to all the maids--after all, an ounce of prevention..."

"Mrs Smith would never allow it."

"Mrs Smith might have to give way."

Martin walked over to Stephen and stood behind his chair and put his arms
around him.  His kissed the top of his head. Stephen had such lovely hair,
he thought.  "So, you think I'm right?" ventured Stephen.

"I don't know.  I was thinking of that time I got drunk in Cannes and those
sailors had their way with me.  I don't think I would have liked to have
had their baby.  I'm no different to Ruby, I suppose."

"Let's go up to bed, Mala," said Stephen, smiling at him, his hair falling
down over his left eye, but not quite as luxuriantly as before he had an
army haircut.  "I want to try again to get you with child."



Martin sought out Miss Foxton.  She was at home in her mother's house in
Kensington.  Mrs Foxton dominated the conversation, retelling the story how
she had been arrested with her friend, Mrs Pankhurst, in 1914.  At last she
left to wrap parcels for the Red Cross and Martin had Miss Foxton to
himself.  He blushed deeply, but managed to outline Ruby's sad story.

"So you want me to find you a doctor who will perform an abortion on your
housemaid."

"That's putting it very bluntly, Miss Foxton," said Martin who winced at
the word. "Although we don't know that she is having a baby; it only
happened five weeks ago."

"I know a doctor.  The women in the East End always leave it too late and
of course they do not have the money to pay for a good doctor --or any
doctor.  You know, many die in horrible agony."

Martin had heard of it and he nodded gravely.  "Stephen says that all the
maids should be made aware of their... of the dangers...of..."

"I fully agree, Lord Branksome, although it would not have helped Ruby if
she was set upon by a rapist."

"Mrs Smith, my housekeeper, might not approve, but I think I can work
something out.  Can you come to Branksome House?  We'd have a donation to
make to Toynbee Hall."

Miss Foxton made the appointment then said: "Now tell me all about Vesta
and Billy."



Ruby shyly came and spoke to Stephen that evening.  "I'd like to see the
doctor, sir, and I don't want to have this man's baby.  I'd like to have a
baby with someone I love.  I don't care if that is wrong."


Two days later Ruby, in the company of Janet, went to an address in
Farringdon Road.  It was a small hospital.  The doctor received Ruby while
Janet waited.  An hour later Ruby emerged looking a little pale, but she
managed a small smile. "I have to sit here for another hour and then we're
to get a cab home.  I wasn't gone, Janet." she said with relief.  Janet
hugged her and gave her a toffee from a paper bag she'd been clutching.


Miss Foxton's talk to the maids was conducted the following week.  The male
servants had been given the afternoon off and the maids, chaperoned by Mrs
Smith, sat in the servants' hall where tea and cake provided some levity.
Miss Foxton brought some charts and diagrams with her and the girls looked
on.  Even Mrs Smith, a married woman, had to admit that some of the
information was new to her.  There was some hesitation in asking questions,
but the refreshments helped and Miss Foxton was skilled in drawing out
women of this class.

At precisely 3 o'clock the drawing room bell rang.  Mrs Smith was annoyed
but excused herself and left the class as Miss Foxton smiled at her and
pressed on.  It was Lord Branksome who had rung.  "Oh Mrs Smith. I wanted
to discuss the dinner on Friday evening.  I will have Lt. Thayer and
Lt. Fortune coming and I think my uncle will be back from Windsor, is that
your understanding?"

Mrs Smith looked agitated and clearly wanted to get back downstairs to hear
what was being said to her maids, but Martin was insistent and went over
every detail of the menu, often changing his mind.  "Oh no, I forgot Mr
Thayer is now a vegetarian, we will have to start again, Mrs Smith..."

Forty minutes later she was released and rushed down the stairs two at a
time just to find that Miss Foxton was rolling up her charts and the maids
were rising from their seats.  With a deft movement, Miss Foxton put her
foot over one of the new latex condoms that had dropped to the floor where
Janet had flicked it.  She retrieved it when Mrs Smith turned to ask Clara
what they had been talking about.  Clara was suitably vague and Mrs Smith,
sensing some deception, could have slapped her.


*****


"...so pack up your troubles in you old kitbag and smile, smile, smile."

Cocoa was poured from a big jug and the maid, Clara, was busy passing
around the thick china mugs.  She gave a sly smile to Private Rugg who
grinned back from under his mop of curly hair.  Corporal Quick banged his
mouth organ on his palm and replaced it to his lips and played the verse
then began the familiar chorus of Lily of Laguna.  The San Culottes began:

"He has a foot of love,
And that's whole damn lot to shove..."

"That's enough, Quick!" commanded Sgt Spinner, "You have forgotten there is
ladies present." He looked at Martin. "and gentlemen too."

Just then Higgins returned to the cellar.  "The `h'all clear 'as just been
hanounced!"


To be continued. Thank you for reading.  If you have any comments or
questions, Pete and I would really love to hear from you.  Just send them
to h.h.hilliard@hotmail.com and please put NOB Nifty in the subject line.