Date: Wed, 4 Feb 2009 18:04:35 +0000
From: alex.carbine@sky.com
Subject: Devon knows how they make them so Creamy/Chapet1. Prologue.

The following Prologue Chapters do not contain any sexual descriptions
whatever. However they are important as they contain the reasons for all
that follow. More Chapter will be released, each a complete tale.


Prologue - Chapter 1.


I Remember!

It only happened a few weeks ago. My suddenly remembering I mean. I was
sitting up in my bed, leaning into my pillows and reading a book by the
light of the bedside lamp. I was aware I had heard the grandfather clock on
the landing strike a late hour and I suddenly thought about Ham. Ham, my
mentor, who had started as my childhood friend. Ham who had given me so
much of his time, his energies, his time and attention, his..... Memories.
I sat there in bed and suddenly started remembering all sorts of things
about him. Images flashed though my mind like a never ending slide show,
first one thing then another, then another, then another. Even now, a scant
few weeks later, I am not sure what actually happened, but I have a good
idea.

First things first. A quick history. In the early fifties my parents were
looking for a place to go for a holiday. Dad had been invalided out of the
army after the Falklands war due to his injuries. He had become a
successful travelling salesman for a Company and my parents were becoming
well off for the first time. A friend of Mum lived in a small coastal
village in Devon near Salcombe. Mum had received a letter from her asking
us down there and as Dad was always tired and not really very well, Mum
said we could all do with a break. Dad arranged for time off work. Mum's
friend had said that she could arrange 'bed and brek' lodging for us close
by that would not cost 'the earth', and so we went for a Summer Holiday. I
was thirteen years old, going on fourteen. It was my first Holiday with my
folks away from home.

Mum's friend Joan lived in a small cottage in a terrace of nine houses near
the little harbour on a sandy bay. As I remember it was a tiny 'one up, one
down' cottage with an outside toilet. Mum said they were fishermen's
cottages and some of them still had fishermen living in them. Joan had
secured us lodging in the main village about 5 minutes walk away in a large
house with a grey slate roof. It stood apart from the other houses, which
were smaller and had thatched roofs. Mum's friend Joan said that the man
who lived there was a recluse. Joan only knew him because she cleaned and
polished the house for him, twice a week. He also employed a permanent
butler, a cook and a local man who worked as a gardener and odd-job
man. The owner's name was Michael Hampton (named changed to protect etc.)
and he was a London finance man and inventor. Several of his inventions had
earned him a fortune and he lived away from everyone in his house. Joan had
mentioned us to him whilst she was working. He had a way of being able to
talk to anyone for a few minutes and know his or her life history. He told
Joan and Charles-the-Butler to 'open up a few rooms and make them
comfortable,' and gave orders to Charles for May-the-Cook to 'make sure
they don't go hungry' and that was that. Mum was worried because she
thought he would charge more, but he did not seem to worry about money at
all. Joan said that he was a 'man of his word' and not to worry.

The train journey down to Devon was an adventure in itself and then a taxi
trip to the village. On the train I became quite dizzy watching the trees
and fields pass by, and was amazed as to how high the roadside banks and
hedges were as we drove in the taxi from the station to Joan's village. The
taxi-driver said it was to protect people from the wind, which blew most
days. Mr. Hampton's house stood on a hill slope above the other houses. It
was very Victorian with high ceilings and windows with internal shutters
that Charles closed at night. We had a suite of guest rooms with a sitting
room, two bedrooms, and our own bathroom and toilet. It was all much better
than our house. My bedroom was in one of the house' corner towers and had
windows that looked out over the harbour, the bay and the sea, and I could
see all the way down to Plymouth on a good day. Mr. Hampton sent his
'regards' we were informed by Charles on arrival and he told us 'not to
fail to ask' if we wanted anything. I asked for a hot chocolate and was
hushed by my Mum but May the Cook took hold of my hand and said 'Of Course
Young Man' and led me down to the Kitchen. It was a typical Victorian
Kitchen like the ones you will see if you visit a Nation Trust property
now, but to me then it was an Aladdin's Cave full of mystery and, more
importantly, a hot chocolate. My memories of May never change. She was wide
but not very tall. She wore a dark blue full-length dress, which she then
enveloped with a full-length apron that seemed to contain her two ample
bosoms and stomach in such a way that I was sure the tightness made her
bottom cheeks bulge bigger. She was always efficient, and busy, but never
too busy to stop and she was soft, not to touch but in the way she did
everything. Her meals spoke reams of love and care.

But I digress.

It had been a lovely sunny day the day we travelled down to Devon, but the
next day the weather changed; it was windy and wet and I had to stay 'in
the house'. My parents had always been careful with my health and me. I
thought it was because of Dad and his war-wounds, and that Mum was just
being over-careful. I later found out that I had been diagnosed as a baby
with a 'heart murmur'. I was all right if I did not do too much, but
running around made me very breathless and I had to sit down. I was never
included in games at school that included prolonged physical exertion. It
did not really upset me any, as I had always been like that. So being in
'The House' on the first day of the Holiday was a pity but not so upsetting
as I had 'The House' to explore. "Don't go making a nuisance of yourself,"
advised my Dad, "And don't break anything," added my Mum, and then I was
left to my own devices.

I had covered most of the house, finding some doors open and others
locked. On the ground floor at the back there were two glass swing-doors,
but I could not see through them for condensation. I cracked open one and
was physically struck by the warm moist air inside that was almost falling
out. I went inside and closed the door behind me. I could see an old man
with rolled up shirtsleeves and trousers tied at the knees. The shirt and
trousers were old and dirty from gardening, and he wore old boots tied with
laces and encased with dried mud. This must be the glasshouse and he must
be the gardener. He was bent over a shelf of potted plants. "Put it on the
side there, thank you," he said. I looked about but there was no one else
in the room. He turned towards me as he was working and just stopped,
staring at me. Then he smiled and asked, "Is there something I can do for
you?"

"Please Sir," I stammered, " I did not mean to startle you. I was just
finding my way around. I don't know who you thought I am."

"They normally bring me a cup of tea about this time, and I felt the
draught as you opened the door. Got to keep the heat up in here you know.
Special plants. Tropical they are." He waved me over. "Do you want to see?"

He sat on a bench and patted the wooden slats beside me. "These plants rely
on me. If I did not look after them, they would die." As he spoke his hands
seemingly caressed the leaves of a plant. I went and sat on the bench next
to him. I was wearing sandals and my feet just reached the floor. The
Gardener took in what he saw - a young man wearing an open necked
short-sleeved shirt, grey flannel shorts, grey socks and tan sandals. I
looked at the potted plant in his hands. He turned it round slowly so I
could see the flowers. They looked like bees on a stem.

"This is an orchid. It does not need to be warm and wet. I can grow him out
in the garden here," he said nodding to the garden through the windows. "No
it's other plants that need the heat. You would like them. Meat eaters they
are." He looked at me and his eyes sparkled as he smiled. "Don't
worry. They are insect eaters, not boys."

There was a discreet cough. I looked up and there was Charles with a mug of
tea in his hands. "Thank you," said the Gardener, then he turned to me and
asked if I wanted anything. "A glass of water, please," I said feeling very
self-conscious, "But I can come and get it if you wish." Charles smiled and
put the mug down on a bench next to the Gardener, turned to face me and
said, "I will return in a minute with your water young Sir." The Gardener
made a sound like a hiccup and when I looked at him he was almost
laughing. Obviously some joke had passed between them that I had missed.

The Gardener sipped at his mug of tea. I looked around. "Do you like
working here?" I asked, really just wanting to break the silence. The old
man looked into his mug and then nodded, "Yes, it's a very pleasant place
to be."

There was a long silence and then he asked me, "And you, young man, do you
like being here?"

"I don't know yet. The house is nice and Mum and Dad are happy. It's a
better house than we live in.......far better. Dad's not very well and Mum
is worried about him. He really needs a bit of a break." I felt as though I
could speak to this man, even though he was a stranger.

"You have not been too well either, have you Roland?" The Gardener asked,
then raised his head and looked at me with those twinkley eyes.

"It's nothing really. Been like this all my life." He watched as
realisation spread across my face. "How do you know I am not well?" He just
sat there smiling. "And how did you know my name?" His jovial expression
did not falter.  "Who are you?"

I stood up and turned to face him. I think the heat in the glasshouse must
have made me dizzy and faint. I don't remember anything else except him
reaching out to me as I fell in a faint. I woke in my bed with my Mum
sitting beside me as a voice spoke.

 "We think he became too hot in the conservatory and passed out. I brought
him straight here and had Charles inform you." I turned to the speaker and
saw it was the Gardener.

"I am so sorry if we have caused any problem...." Started my Mum, but he
shushed her soothingly until she was quiet.

"No problem at all. In fact, if you all feel up to it later this afternoon
we must have tea together, Charles will know where I am and will bring you
to me" he said gathering himself and making for the bedroom door.

"But what if Mr. Hampton finds you're not working?" I blurted out to him
before he disappeared round the door.

"I really don't think Mr. Hampton will mind. See you there." And with that
he closed the door behind him.

"Who was that?" asked Mum.

"I think he's the Gardener, Mum."

"Poor thing," said Mum passing her hand over my forehead. "I don't suppose
you have had a bite to eat. It's well past lunchtime and your Dad will be
back from the Town soon. Let's go and ask the Cook what we do today for
food, the weather being as it is and all."

A couple of hours later and Dad had returned, May the Cook had rustled up
some sandwiches - slices of ham, sliced tomatoes and green salad with
cucumber, all in freshly baked bread, but for some reason she cut the
crusts off - and I was feeling fine again, unlike the weather.

It was just before 4 o'clock when Charles came into our sitting room and
announced his presence with a discreet cough. I was to get used to him just
appearing with a cough, it was his trademark. "I have served tea in the
Library, if you would be so kind as to follow me."

We followed him through the main reception hall, past other rooms until
finally we were at the Library. Charles opened the double doors and stood
to one side to let us pass. The walls were simply covered with books of
different sizes and colours. There were tables with green glass shaded
lights and big green leather covered chairs. There were ladders on each
wall that slid along rails, so you could climb up to any of the books near
the ceiling. I had never seen so many books. And standing in front of the
fireplace looking at himself in the big mirror that sat on the mantelpiece,
with his back to us, was Mr. Hampton himself, wearing a lovely tweed
jacket, plus fours, and dark brown brogue shoes. We approached him and then
he turned. "Will you be Mother?" he asked of my Mum and gesturing to the
tea set on the table by a semi-circle of chairs. "Of course
Mr. Hampton. It's so kind of you. We don't want to be any bother."
Mr. Hampton held the high back of my Mum's chair and she sat
down. Mr. Hampton waved to the chair on the other side of him and my Dad
shook Mr. Hampton's hand and sat down. "Come Roland. You can bring over the
cake stand on that trolley, and sit with me." Mr. Hampton sat down on a
long sofa. I just stood open mouthed. Mr. Hampton was The Gardener.

Prologue - Chapter 2.

It was almost two days before I was able to talk to Mr. Hampton
again. 'Taking Tea' with Mr. Hampton had been a formal affair. My Mum and
Dad had seen to that. They were absolutely aghast that what they had taken
for The Gardener (on my say-so) turned out to be the famous, rich recluse
who owned the house. It turned into an
eat-the-scone-drink-the-tea-and-get-out affair. I hardly had a bite or a
word before the two library doors were being closed by my Dad on our
backs. Back in the sitting room Mum admitted to being 'mortified' and Dad
'shocked'. I thought it was quite funny. When we went down to May the Cook
for supper, she had a small smile constantly on her face, but she made no
mention of our tea, and it was never talked of again.

The next day was brilliant, cloudless sunshine and we made our way down to
the beach with the folding chairs and a bucket and spade that Charles had
found. As we left the house, Charles said he would see us later and we
really thought nothing of it. But after we had been on the beach for an
hour or so, Charles turned up, driving the Rolls Royce across the dry but
firm sands. There were few people on the beach and he had no difficulty in
spotting us. He parked the car near us and proceeded to set up a table and
chairs, "courtesy of Mr. Hampton."  A tablecloth, various cold cuts and
soft drinks appeared from the boot of the car. Charles then invited us to
sit and he served us our Luncheon. After this he magiced a cup of tea from
a Thermos for Mum and Dad and gave a sherbet dip to me. When we had
finished he packed it all up and with a cough and a 'Thank You Madam, Sir,
Young Sir' he drove off the beach and up the slipway before the tide came
back in. My Mum said she would never have believed it if someone had told
her it had happened to them, as she sat in her folding chair with a big
smile on her face and her eyes closed in the shade of her broad brimmed sun
hat.

The next day was wet again. I watched the curtains of rain swish across the
bay from my bedroom windows. Midmorning I cleared it with Mum and went
looking round the house again. I had found out there was a cellar under the
house and even better had found the cellar door was unlocked. Before
descending I switched on the electric light and was gratified to see a loom
of light across the floor below. At the bottom of the stairs I was greeted
with a comprehensively stocked workshop. Without disturbing anything I
walked round the several workbenches looking at what they contained. There
was plenty there but nothing I could understand. Obviously they were some
of Mr. Hampton's inventions. I was bending down looking at one of them when
a door opened near me and Mr. Hampton came into the room. I could see a
tunnel behind him, which seemed to stretch for some distance. There was
also an old, white haired man in a white robe.

"Hallo Roland! What do you think of that?" asked Mr. Hampton, pointing to
what I was looking at.

I could only shake my head and say that I admired the craftsmanship but did
not understand what it was for.

"No, of course not, but one day you might well!" he said.

I nodded to the old man behind him and asked Mr. Hampton, "Does he help you
make these things?"  Mr. Hampton stopped in his tracks as if someone had
turned a switch off. He remained motionless for a few seconds, and then
slowly came over to me. He stood behind me so we both could look at the old
man, and put his hands on my shoulders, then spoke softly into my right
ear, "Can you see old Tommy there?"

When I answered I could, I felt his hands tighten a bit on my shoulders and
then he said into my right ear again, "And what is he wearing?"

"He is wearing a white robe. He looks a bit like a picture of Merlin I have
in a book at home," I answered.

"Capital!" said Mr. Hampton. He called out to the man-in-the-robe, "Tommy
how many is this now?"

Tommy walked through the door into the room and answered "Only sixteen in
almost three thousand years have been reported from the total number of the
outposts on this planet."

"Did you hear what he said?" asked Mr. Hampton. It was my time to stop and
think before I answered. Mr. Hampton looked into my face expectantly. Is
this a trick question I thought? "I understand what he said, but I am not
sure I actually heard him," I paused to think back, then continued, "I
don't think I saw his mouth move, but it must have done, otherwise how
could I have heard him?"

"Capital!" Mr. Hampton repeated, then to Tommy, "Look at him. Not at all
frightened and reasoning with his brain, not just believing what he thinks
should be right." He turned back to me. "This is a momentous day for me. I
never thought I would live to see this ever." Then back to Tommy, "I will
return later Tommy." The old man 'Tommy' showed no emotion, just retired
into the passageway and closed the door behind him. In complete contrast
Mr. Hampton threw up his hands and whooped in excitement. "Who would ever
have believed it?" and then to me, "It was fate that has brought us
together. Fate!" He grasped my right elbow and propelled me to the
stairs. "We must make arrangements! Arrangements my boy! Arrangements!"

Together we raced up through the house to my parents' sitting room and
burst into the room, Mr. Hampton holding me by my elbow.

"It's about your boy Roland..." started Mr. Hampton, but was cut short by
my Mum saying, "I'm sure he didn't mean to .........  whatever it is!"

"No no! My dear Lady. Calm yourself! Pray sit and gather yourself," this to
my Mum, "and you too Sir!" this to my Dad.

"No, this is a momentous day. A day that I thought statistically
impossible.........impossible!" he paused to think and then continued, "and
yet why not? Statistics pointed towards it happening again.....but surely
not this soon......not this opportunely!" To my parents he said, "Do you
realise what I have in my hands here?" My parents looked at each other. To
them it seemed obvious the man was off his head. "I have the future,
nothing more, nothing less!"  He let go my arm, turned and disappeared
striding across the main hallway. "I have so many plans to make. So
many!.....And so little time. Charles!......Charles!........Where have you
got to?" And a few seconds later, his voice diminishing as he travelled
"Ah! There you are.............  My Office, Immediately"

We saw nothing of Mr. Hampton for the rest of the day, but were aware of
some commotions. By about six o'clock several cars arrived and people were
ushered into the Library. At just after seven that evening we were about to
go to have supper in May the Cook's kitchen as usual when Charles asked for
us to join Mr. Hampton in the Library. The reading desks had been moved
into one long table with chairs down either side. Mr. Hampton sat at one
end and there were five suited gentlemen down one side. Charles showed us
to sit on the other side, and I was up next to Mr. Hampton.  "You are
probably wondering what this is all about...." started Mr. Hampton but was
silenced by one of the suits standing up. He held his lapels and started to
talk.

" I am a Doctor of Medicine," he said addressing my parents, "and I have
examined Mr. Hampton today both physically and mentally. He is sound in
both body and mind. You have my word on that." Mum held onto Dad's arm and
wondered how this would all end. "Also I have known Mr. Hampton since he
was a boy and can vouchsafe his integrity." He sat down.

"You see the thing is......" started Mr. Hampton again but was interrupted
by another of the suits. "I represent Mr. Hampton on all things in law. He
has asked me to draw up papers for you to sign. They are surprising in
content but perfectly legal." He sat down.

There was a slight pause and then Mr. Hampton stood again slowly, glowering
at the suits, daring one to interrupt this time. They all just sat and
looked up at him. "Today something happened which was unexpected to say the
least. I discovered that your son Roland has a remarkable talent that has
only been seen once before in this century, and that was in me. Trust me
when I say that I don't want to reveal yet what it is, just that your son
definitely has it. To this end I wish to take over responsibility for your
son's education and well-being. As his parents you will of course remain as
long as you wish as my guests, either here or elsewhere of your choice.
Whilst Roland is in my care you will be completely looked after. You will
no doubt want to consider my offer, and these gentlemen will answer your
questions as best they can. I will retire into the smoke room for a
while. Do you have any questions at this moment?"

Dad looked bewildered at me, and Mum just looked white. "Will we be able to
visit him?" she asked in a quiet voice. "Anytime you or he wishes, so long
as it does not interfere with his Schooling," came the reply from one of
the seated suits.

"Does this mean that Dad won't have to work any more if he doesn't want
to?" I asked.

"Not if he doesn't want to. I am sure that if he does I can find something
for him in my firm," answered Mr. Hampton.

"Mr. Hampton, will I have to learn History?" I asked.

"No Roland, not if you don't want to, but you will find that History is
more fun that anything you might have imagined in School. And you don't
have to call me Mr. Hampton any more, my name is Ham, but I prefer Ham." He
reached for my hand and we shook.

Nothing was actually done that night, but over the next few days everything
was worked out so that I could stay at the House and Mum and Dad were able
to go back home and sort out their affairs before moving back to the
village. A comfortable house was found for them in Salcombe where they
lived comfortably for the rest of their days. My education advanced in
leaps and bounds, but more of that later. As the years passed Ham grew old,
as did I. His health slowly failed and he became bedridden. As I said at
the beginning of my narrative I was sitting in my bed reading when I was
suddenly flooded with images of his life, his memories. I somehow sensed
that he was on the point of death. As I saw his life images unfold I heard
his voice telling me not to worry and that he was finally going to rest.
When this experience was over I called to Charles and he asked me to meet
me at Ham's bedchamber. We found he had passed peacefully away in his
sleep. The lasting image I have of him is his smile, which although his
soul had left, was still on his face, and in my mind.

In the following weeks Charles, May and I tried even harder to complete the
work that had been left for me.



Prologue - Chapter Three.


Those of you who have read thus far will be aware that there are several
inconsistencies in my writings. Who is Tommy? What was so special about me?
Why had old May and Charles seemingly not grown older with us as well? I
will try to answer these as we go.

After my parents had agreed to let Ham take over my wellbeing and
education, Ham had to show me what 'my gift' was all about. We descended to
his workshop and then to the door on the far wall. Ham punched a coded
number into the keypad, and the door opened. Tommy was standing on the
other side as we entered. As the door swung open Tommy greeted us with a
phrase that I was to hear many, many times. "Welcome. How may I help you?"

Tommy showed no surprise at my presence there. "I wish you to educate this
young man for me. His name is Jonas, and by his demeanour and skin colour,
I believe he may have a body illness or defect," Ham said. "Go with Tommy
and do what he says," Ham told me. When I appeared reluctant Ham said,
"Tommy will not hurt you. He is incapable of that, believe me. What he does
will seem strange until you have enough knowledge to understand what it is
all about. Consider yourself as a baby who can see and hear but is unable
to rationalise or communicate. All will become clear with time. Trust
me. Go with Tommy, and don't worry or be shy. You will learn things about
yourself that will only be known inside this structure. Take him now Tommy
and inform me when he has assimilated his basic instructions."

"If you will follow me young sir," Tommy said as he walked off down the
corridor. I followed and we passed many closed doorways, each showing
symbols in a language I was unable to read or
understand................yet.


Some time passed. Tommy took me into what I now know to be an advanced
hospital facility, deep inside the hill. There I was 'cured' of all
ailments in my body. In fact I have not had a day of illness since. One
thing that was not touched however, was the aging process, which continued
as usual. I learned that Tommy's full name was Ptolemy, and that this name
was a name he had adopted at some time during his existence, which even he
had no knowledge as to its start date. All three personas, Tommy, Charles
and May are projections. I don't try to understand how, but accept that
they can be 'flesh and blood' at times and insubstantial ghosts at other
times, depending on circumstance and distance from the house. Communication
can either be by voice or telepathy, or inner voice as Tommy likes to call
it. Tommy's method of teaching was simple. After some short periods wearing
a special helmet or 'crash hat' as he called it with a smile, my mind was
able to accept a telepathic link to a central 'brain' deep in the
complex. From then on I was able to 'learn' as I slept. But the learning
process is two way. As I understand it the 'whoever-built-it entities' are
able to observe humanity using myself as their camera and to effect such
change as they are allowed or wish. And I am not the only one they
observe. Apparently they have similar complexes elsewhere on the
Planet. Also there are certain things they can not do, such as.... they
understood the mechanics behind cancers, but could not release a 'cure', as
it would fundamentally change humanity. However they had through the ages
allowed 'discoveries' to be released by various ways. I remember talking to
Tommy about Archimedes. He would not say much but just laughed at the
memories of trying to get some of the basic ideas of chemistry and physics
understood then, things we now take for granted today. He did however
caution me, using Archimedes as an example, that there were things today
that we, the human race, could not dream of, in a way parallel to
Archimedes in his times. This was in response to my wanting to know more
than he was willing to give me. In fact it was Archimedes and his famous
drawings of helicopters, submarines and the like that cautioned me that
humanity would move at its own speed, regardless of the facts laid in front
of it.

This then is the background behind my situation. There are, inside the
complex, areas where any situation that can be imagined, can become reality
to the observer. Seemingly as a reward for allowing information to be taken
or planted, I was allowed to use the rooms for recreational purposes, but
even then my 'games' were noted. I have often thought about my relaxation
periods and what they contained. Given that Tommy had access to my every
secret as I slept, he would have been able to engineer what I needed. As a
fourteen year old, puberty was on the ascendant, and Tommy was able to
gratify my needs in a multitude of ways.


And so, dear Reader, in the following Chapters, I shall endeavour to
describe some of the adventures that Tommy created for me, both for
education and pleasure.


And finally the final mystery I have to reveal - that of my name. I was
christened Jonas Seymor Weight but I much rather enjoy the shortened name
of Jon.

Thank you for being patient thus far.