Date: Wed, 4 Jul 2012 16:37:29 +0200
From: Amy Redek <adultreading@gmail.com>
Subject: Francis. Part Twenty Six.

    This story is for persons of eighteen years or over.  All comments,
good or bad, are welcome and all will be answered.

     Part Twenty Six

     That was it then. We went back to the hotel and packed our bags and
were soon at the airport booking the first plane out of Germany. It fitted
into our story that the first plane was for Paris. We didn't have to wait
long there to get a connecting flight for London. If was a great relief to
be back in England, and I couldn't wait to get home. It was late and I was
dying for a bath and bed, which followed in short order. Then came the
pleasure of stroking Wesson to the point where he could relieve me of the
tension I had been under over the last two days.

     I didn't want to go to work the next day, it being Friday, but Wesson
insisted that we report to Frobisher. So we duly went to the office and
knocked at Frobisher's office door and waited for the summons to enter.

     `Welcome back,' he said standing up. `Come in, come in. Help
yourselves to a drink even though it is still morning.' Wesson shook his
head to my raised eyebrow. I still wanted one, morning or not, so I mixed
myself a gin and tonic before sitting down before Frobisher's desk.

     `I must say well done,' he began, waving a newspaper that he'd picked
up from his desk. He then tossed into Wesson's lap.

     `Page five. Small bit near the bottom. "Gang land gun fight" for your
benefit Francis. It's a German newspaper telling of an event at the "Blue
Angel" night club.' Wesson had riffled through the paper to read the small
item there.

     `Well it seems to have worked sir,' Wesson said, refolding the
newspaper and putting it back on the desk.

     `Now tell me all about it,' Frobisher asked, sitting back in his
chair.

     `Francis will tell it better than me, she went in first,' Wesson
said. So I had to relive that time in the room, and I was glad that I had
taken that drink.

     `So you killed this Rose person before you had the proof?'

     `I was pretty certain by the way they were acting,' I protested to
justify my precipitate action. `I've never liked the phrase or excuse that
the end justified the means, but I was right,' I finished defiantly.

     `Here sir,' Wesson then intervened to pass across the paper that he'd
taken from the leader's pocket. Frobisher took it and quickly scanned it
before putting down.

     `I'll give you a full written report on Monday sir,' I said.

     `No. Actions like these are not written about, or acknowledged. Your
verbal report is enough for me to pass on. The German Chancellor will be
made aware that his life has been saved in all good time, thanks to this
piece of paper, and that it is the British who did it.'

     I found out later that it was used as a lever in certain negotiations
that took place sometime later, also Her Majesty was later informed as well
as the Prime Minister. Our names were not mentioned, but I think, due to
the place where it happened, Winston Churchill knew that I was
involved. Frobisher thanked us again, though he threw another curve at us
before we left the office.

     `The Ministry of Defence has seen fit to confirm your captaincy in
your regiment Wesson even though you are attached to this office.'

     `But sir...'

     `You don't have to thank me,' Frobisher interrupted.

     `But I didn't want it,' Wesson whispered aside to me.

     `Well it looks like you've got it,' I whispered back.

     `And for you Francis, though I should say that this is for Sir
Gervaise. He has been given a retroactive captaincy in the Signals, read as
intelligence. You are now on the official list of Army officers.'

     `But I don't want it either,' I protested.

     `Do you know,' Frobisher smiled, `I think you could well be Winston
Churchill's illegitimate daughter, because it is on his orders that these
two captaincies have been ordered.'

     `Don't be silly,' I said with a nervous laugh. `This is a joke,
right?'

     `No joke. I think he is as proud of you as I am. Now before we go all
mushy, I suggest you go and clear your desks and then take the rest of the
day off.' With that, he picked up a paper to read and ignored us. Wesson
and I looked at each other and as Wesson gave a shrug, I could only do the
same and get up from my chair. I put my empty glass on the side and we left
his office without another word being said. But the bastard hadn't finished
with us as we found out when we got to our desks.

                                                           *

     I'd gone to the cafeteria to get us both some coffee while Wesson went
to our little hole downstairs. When I got there with the coffee, Wesson
looked at me and waved an internal memo at me.

     `There's one on your pile too. You ain't gonna like it! You just ain't
gonna like it,' he said. I passed across his coffee and sat down to read
the memo on my pile of paper. He was right. I didn't like it. It was a
Ministry of Defence order that Captain Sir Gervaise Lyon report for
parachute training on Monday 11th.

     `They can't do this to me,' I protested, waving this flimsy at
Wesson. `I'm a fucking civilian!'

     `Not now you're not, according to the Prime Minister. I'm also to go
with you to accompany you for your first drop. That's going to be so
exciting for you.' Wesson enthused. `I remember the first time for me. I
was terrified at the prospect, but have since come to enjoy that free fall
flight before you pull the cord.'

     `Yes, terrified! That's what I'm feeling now and I'm still sitting at
a desk!' I replied.

     `You get extra pay if you're qualified for jumps.'

     `But I don't get paid at all!' I expostulated. Then for once, Wesson
really made sense of it all.

     `Then don't bring it up! Keep that as an ace in the hole. Then if, at
sometime in the future, a really bad thing comes your way, that's the way
out. In war time it's different, but, somehow, I wish that I hadn't been
paid, then I could have got out of some nasty situations, believe me.'

     `But I don't know anything about parachuting?' I protested.

     `That's what the course is for. To teach you, wait. Let me find out a
bit more.' He picked up the phone and got through to the Ministry of
Defence. He asked for somebody he knew and then spoke for several minutes
to the man on the other end of the line. `Well it seems that you're to join
a course that's half way through.'

     `Half way through?' I almost screamed at him. `Do I just get shoved
out of a plane and be wished a happy landing?'

     `No, no,' he laughed. `Their first week is spent in learning how to
land.'

     `You get pushed out of a plane and what do they expect? That you'll
float away in the air. For Christ's sake, you're going to land
anyway. Gravity dictates that.'

     `How to land,' Wesson patiently corrected me in my tirade, `the
correct way so that you don't finish up with broken legs or arms.'

     `Oh thanks for being so cheerful,' and then I suddenly grinned at
him. `Maybe you want both my legs and arms in plaster so that you can bring
me the bed pan and then wipe my arse for me when I've finished.' He laughed
with me.

     `No. We're going home now and I'm going to teach you in two days what
the others have been learning for a week.'

     `And what is that?' I demanded.

     `Just how to land without breaking your ankles, legs or arms, or even
if it comes to that, your neck. Such a pretty neck,' he grinned as he
reached across the desk to stroke it. I couldn't help but laugh with him,
so we got up and left to go home. Fuck the paperwork.

                                                           *

     The first thing he did when we got home was to dress me in combat
fatigues and then haul me off to our gym. He got Palmer to help him to drag
in several tables before letting him go. He'd cleared some of the mats so
that the table was firm and placed the displaced mats before it.

     `We start off with this,' he said. He'd also changed into combat gear
and then he climbed up onto the table. `You start off by jumping from here
to the mats.' Which he did, rolling over on landing. `The trick is to keep
your knees bent as you hit the ground,' he said as he got up. `That way you
minimise the risk of breaking your legs or ankles. Straight legged and
you're sure to break either one or all of them. Now you try.' This I did
for the next hour before he dragged another two tables in and stood two
together and putting another on top of them.

     `Right. You're now just over six feet from the ground, so jump and do
the same as before.' This wasn't too bad until he put a chair on top of the
top table and told me that I was then over ten feet from the ground. `Now
this will be about the speed you will hit the ground.' He lied! But I
didn't know this at the time. It was more likely twice as high according to
the speed when I did finally hit the ground. We kept up this jumping and
rolling over the weekend and I now knew how to land from that height.

     Then we were off to the parachute school on the Monday morning. I
joined a group of ten other young people as we were about to be harnessed
up to a chute from a bloody high platform. A cable would hold and drop us
to the ground at the expected speed and we were expected to roll the
correct way.

     This was the jumping platform for Monday. Tuesday's platform was twice
the height and the ground looked a long way away, but we all survived,
swinging out on our harness to fall to the ground. Wednesday was spent
learning how to fold and pack a parachute, though to my relief, I found
that we would be using those that had been packed by a professional. After
seeing the way I had packed mine, you wouldn't have got me off the ground
let alone trusting myself to my own packing ability.

     Then came Thursday. Our first jump from an aircraft. I think I went
and crapped twice before takeoff. Being the last to join the group, I would
be the last one out of the plane, except for Wesson, who would be behind
me. I made him promise that he was to push me out rather than have the
ignominy of having refused to jump.

     `The trick is to close your eyes as you shuffle along,' he told
me. `When you feel the tap on your shoulder, you just step out, simple as
that.' We'd already been shown what straps to hold and which cords to pull
to go either left or right, but that is if we would remember them as we
fell to earth. At least we didn't have to worry about pulling the rip cord
to open the chute. This was done by us clipping ourselves to a metal cable
that ran the length of the plane and was fixed to our chutes to pull them
from the pack as we left the aircraft.

     We'd taken off and I felt miserable and terrified as the plane soared
aloft and Wesson kept up a ceaseless chatter to try and put me at my
ease. We could feel the plane climbing before it turned and then levelled
out at the desired height, and then came the order to stand up. We stood
and faced aft and the door was opened a great rush of air began swirling
around inside the craft.

     `Hook up!' was shouted and we each in turn snapped our clip to the
cable. I could just see at the other end of the line, a set of lights, one
glowing red, which suddenly went to green, and the line started to move
towards that open door. As the line diminished and I was getting ever
closer to the sergeant at the door, I closed my eyes and just kept
shuffling forwards and then for a heart stopping moment, I felt a tap on my
shoulder and then there was nothing under my feet.

     My breath was taken away by the blast of air that whirled me sideways,
and the roar of the wind and engines was deafening. I wasn't even prepared
for the sudden jolt and whoomph as my chute was pulled and opened from my
pack. Nor the second jolt which took my stomach down to my toes or almost
tore my groin apart as the straps dug in to the force of the chute
opening. Then it was quiet, well almost, compared to what I'd just been
hearing. Now it was a gentle hiss of the air moving about me and I felt
myself swinging about. Then, and only then, did I open my eyes.

     There below me were the open fields of England in all their glory. I
could see for miles and I didn't even feel the cold I was so taken up by
the panorama that was spread out before me. I suddenly remembered my
instructions to hold onto the straps to stabilise my pendulum swinging,
glancing up to see if I'd got the right cords. Then I could see my big
white canopy that was holding me up in the air, full and taut, a large
shell of silk that was helping me down to earth. I looked round and saw the
other mushroom type chutes helping the others down, and a glance up showed
me Wesson, following me down.

     I was enthralled and excited to pick out landmarks, and people so far
below me, and wished that I could float like that forever. The ground
seemed so far away and it looked as though I was never going to land. I
never really got over the phenomenon of parachuting, that one minute you're
miles above the earth, and then in the blink of an eye, it's rushing up to
meet you at an alarming speed.

     They lied! The bastards lied were the words rushing through my brain
as the ground came at me at an alarming pace. Knees bent, keep the knees
bent I shouted to myself as I approached the field.

     For all the good that did me, because just before I touched, a gust of
wind took me sideways. My feet trailed and scraped across the earth's
surface as I now seemed to be travelling across the surface without
actually landing.

     This gust of wind then suddenly dropped and I did too. Like a sack of
potatoes I went down and the sheer momentum was enough to roll me over and
over, catching up with the ropes and cords of the deflating chute. The more
I rolled, the more entangled I became in the shrouds and finished up like a
trussed chicken beneath the settling canopy. I lay there exhausted but
exhilarated as I watched the silk slowly settle over me.

     `Francis! Francis! Are you alright?' came Wesson's anxious voice from
somewhere outside my cocoon.

     `I'm a bit tied up at the moment, but otherwise I'm fine,' I called
out, and then I could see the shadowy figure of him start to remove my
covering.

     `You look just ready for the oven,' he laughed when he saw the state I
was in. I could have used my knife to cut myself free, but I didn't want to
damage my very first parachute that way. He helped me get out of the
knotted cords and helped me gather the chute together. `Well what did you
think of the drop, apart from the landing?' he asked with a laugh.

     `Fantastic! I can't wait for the next one. I was terrified when I fell
out of the plane, but the floating down was awe inspiring. Though I'm glad
I landed safely. The ground appeared so fast after the slow descent, and
then the wind caught me.'

     `Yes, I saw you. Good job the cows haven't been in this field yet.' It
was a moment before I realised what he was referring to and then had a fit
of laughter at the thought of the cow pats.

     `Do we go up again?' I asked.

     `After lunch,' he said as we got to the truck that was to take us all
back to the airfield.

     As officers, we dined in their mess as we had done so since our
arrival. I kept out of the Colonel's way after our first encounter.

     `Captain Lyon. Your hair's too long, you should get it cut.'

     `Sorry sir, but I was ordered here on such short notice, I didn't have

  time.'

     `Well there's a barber on the camp.'

     `I'd rather wait and have my own barber see to it sir,' I said as
haughtily as I could. `I'll keep it as tidy as I can till then, sir.' So
what I had taken to doing was to brush it tight back and twist a rubber
band to make a pony tail of it so that I could fold it back up under my
cap. But I couldn't do this in the mess as hats or caps were not allowed to
be worn inside, so I did my best to keep out of his way. Wesson, being the
good scrounger that he was, had passed across some money to our batman to
purloin two mess uniforms for us as we hadn't brought any with us. They
weren't a very good fit, but they passed muster. We also had two rooms in
the bachelor's officers quarters, each with its own shower.

     It was here that was the only place we could be alone together, but
the shower stall was too cramped to do anything when we were both in
it. We'd both be wet and soapy as we aroused each other, so we'd get out of
the stall and I would bend over holding onto the sink.

     It was a dangerous place to do this, but we were so desperate that we
didn't care. I could then watch his face and see his smile as he entered me
from behind and revelled in the pleasure of seeing his face as he pleasured
me. He would smile as he pushed inside me and give me a wink as he began
thrusting his hips. Then he would close his eyes as he built up a rhythm
and his head would go back as he began to come.

     The cord muscles of his neck would stand out as he held me tight to
him as he pumped and jerked his come into me. A smile would slowly crease
his face as he opened his eyes again as he finished before pulling out of
me and it was back into the shower to clean ourselves but we only managed
to do this twice during our week there.

     It was seeing his face as he fucked me that prompted me on our return
to London to try and find a mirror so that I could see the whole action for
myself. It was similar to a cheval-glass but able to be twisted sideways
instead. Quite often then, I would place this mirror by the bed and revel
in watching him get on the bed behind me, cock rigid and sticking out in
front. To feel and watch at the same time as he entered me, the different
expressions on his face. I would quite often come without having to touch
myself as I watched our performance on the bed.

     But that was later, we still had another jump to do after lunch and we
joined the other soldiers to collect our parachutes and a lovely girl gave
me mine.

     `Captain sir, can I have your autograph please. I recognised you the
moment I first set my eyes on you,' she asked. Flattered, I took the
proffered pen and signed her book. `Thank you sir,' she smiled, `and I
packed your chute specially,' she said passing it across the counter.

     `Thank you very much,' I smiled back at her before going out with the
others. Wesson had followed me and then took my chute from my hand. With
his strong grip, he wrenched at it and tore the pack.

     `Corporal!' Wesson called out to a passing soldier. `I appear to have
damaged the captain's chute. Would you be so good as to take it back and
bring another one out.'

     `Yes sir,' the corporal said, saluting and taking the now damaged pack
back to get a replacement.

     `What's that all about?' I demanded of Wesson.

     `I would never accept a parachute that I'd been told had been
specially packed for me. Call me superstitious or plain suspicious, but
beware Greeks bearing gifts, that's why I'm still alive.'

     `You don't think...?'

     `No,' he interrupted, `but it's better to be safe than sorry.' I saw
the logic and felt ashamed that I hadn't thought about how easy it would be
to kill an agent like that. I didn't like the thought that I might be on
somebody's hit list, or Wesson either. I put aside these dark thoughts as I
took the new parachute and after Wesson had inspected it, put it on and did
up the straps. Then I checked his strapping as he checked mine before
boarding the plane for our second jump.

     I still kept my eyes shut as I fell out of the aircraft, but was ready
for the heart stopping thump as the chute opened, and then I marvelled
again at seeing the world from this angle, high up, floating and drifting
down like a bird. Again, I was well up in the sky and the next hurtling
towards the fast approaching ground.

     No cross wind this time and I made the slight swing so that I landed
in the perfect position to do the roll and was soon up on my feet to hold
the chute down as I pulled the cords towards me. Wesson landed just a few
feet away from me in a text book landing with a roll and managed to gather
his chute in quicker than I did mine.

     `That was much, much better,' he said slapping me on the back as we
went towards the truck that was lumbering across the field. `After
tomorrow's two jumps, you'll be qualified as a proper parachutist and
entitled to wear the wings.' I felt my chest pump up at his praise and the
thought of those precious wings that not many people were entitled to wear.

     I did the two jumps the next day and I actually kept my eyes open as I
jumped on the second drop, though I wish I'd kept them closed. It seemed
more terrifying to watch yourself jump out into empty space irrespective of
the fact that the trailing drop cord opened your chute for you. There was a
small ceremony back at the base as we were each presented with our wings,
Wesson watching as he already had his.

     `You can call me an angel now,' I teased as we went to our rooms
afterwards, `now that I've got my wings.'

     `You've always been my little angel,' he said with a sweet
smile. Later, he made arrangements for us to go fairly regularly to do some
jumps where I had to use a rip cord to open my own chute. Also to practise
night drops.

     These were more terrifying because you couldn't see the ground coming
up at you. We'd carry our pack as we jumped and then would let it drop as
it was attached to one leg by a ten foot length of rope so that when the
weight disappeared, you knew you were just about to hit the ground. I
twisted my ankle on that first one, but managed to disguise the fact so
that I didn't miss the second drop of the night.

     I shouldn't have done that because it made it worse and it swelled up
like a balloon the moment I took my boot off. But I became proficient in
handling the various cords to be able to shift my position in the air and
land exactly where I wanted.

                                                           *

     We went back to London and I told Wesson what I wanted to do for the
Queen's coronation, which was only just over two weeks away. As a knight of
the realm, I'd been sent an invitation to be present in the Abbey, but as I
would be right at the back, I declined as I would rather watch it on
television. Also I wanted the village to have a coronation party as many
towns were doing and be a part of it. Wesson agreed to visit with me and
suggested that the girl's might like it too. No, no, he protested at my
look, them together and us together, no swapping, so I agreed.

     It was nice to get home and out of the uniform and soak in a hot
perfumed bath and then put on a pretty dress. I called the girls down and
told them about the party and they were enthusiastic about it and offered
to help. Even Flora got excited when I phoned her and wanted to help too,
though it was her I had been relying on to help organise it. It would be
held out in the lane outside the village hall. But if it rained, as it so
happened, it did, it would be held in the hall.

     My name was good in Trowbridge for obtaining credit, so Flora was told
to get whatever she wanted and get the bills sent to Mr. Truell's office
for payment. I spoke to him on the Monday to tell him to expect the bills
and to also see about purchasing the biggest television set he could find
to put into the hall so everybody could watch the ceremony. The television
could then be put into my house to replace the old one that I had
originally bought for Donald.

     It was back to the office and the papers for the next two weeks until
the Saturday before the coronation. Allen Farthing brought the Rolls up to
London for us to travel down to the village in style and we got a rapturous
welcome when we arrived there. Bunting was already being put up,
criss-crossing the lane and the pub was almost invisible behind all the
flags that they'd put up.

     Flora and Beatrice were at the front door of the house to welcome us
as usual. They both bobbed a curtsey as I approached them and I gave them a
hug and a peck on the cheek in thanks. The house was spotless and there was
a lovely smell of Flora's cooking that made the mouth water in
anticipation. Allen saw to the baggage as Flora told me all that she'd done
so far in preparation for the party. I couldn't have made a better choice
for there was nothing for me to do.

     The last things out of the car were the bunches of flowers we had
bought on the way there. Allen gave them to me and I then excused myself
from everybody and went off to the churchyard alone. They knew where I was
going and so nobody followed me. I knelt at each of the four graves in
turn, my mother and father being in the same one, and placing a bunch down
and saying a short prayer to them that I'd not forgotten what they had all
done for me. When I'd finished, I dusted my knees and then saw Peter Blake,
the vicar that had taken over after the death of Donald, watching me from
the porch of the church.

     `Welcome home Lady Francis. You've certainly set the village alight
with this party. I've never seen so many smiling faces for a long time. We
even had a full church last Sunday and I expect even more this week now
that you're back.'

     `Thank you Peter. It is nice to be back, but I'm afraid it's not for
long as I have work to do in London. So let's enjoy ourselves, you'll come
to lunch after the service on Sunday?' I asked.

     `With pleasure. I don't think Flora's cooking can be surpassed by
anyone else in the village.' I smiled at him as I said goodbye, wondering
how he got on for sex and also if he'd bought his own female wardrobe to
dress up in now that mine wasn't there. I smiled and inwardly giggled at
the thought that if he only knew what was under my dress, he'd probably
have a fit.

     Everybody had settled in when I got back to the house and Flora said
that dinner would be ready for seven. I looked at the clock and saw that it
was just on five.

     `Let's all go to the pub for a quick one,' I said, and that suggestion
was well received, so off we all went, except Flora and Beatrice that
is. There were quite a few villagers in there already and we were greeted
with cheers and a warm welcome from Dave, the landlord. He was immediately
teased by my old joke of being asked what were Sir Gervaise's arms. The pub
howled with laughter as much as they did the first time I'd uttered the
words that they all shouted. `The things hanging from his shoulders.'

     `Drinks all round,' I shouted to Dave above the laughter and this was
greeted with more cheers from the locals as he quickly began pulling more
pints of beer. It was a bright and cheerful hour we spent there before
saying our goodbyes to go and get ready for dinner.

     As good cooks both the Perkins and Palmer were, they couldn't better
the cooking of Flora. It was a culinary delight. Not fancy, but down to
earth home cooking, and we all appreciated it. Washing it down with wine
from my vineyard back in France that made me comment to Lou to make a note
that I should soon go there to see how the new vines had come
along. Excellent though this wine was, I hoped that Marcel's boast was
correct and that the new vines would surpass that of what we were drinking
that night.

     Flora and Beatrice left after dessert had been served and we poured
our own coffee and brandy and had a good evening. Then it was to bed in my
old room with Wesson, where we made slow love with much kissing and sucking
before spending ourselves in each other.

     Breakfast was a haphazard affair of cooking whatever took your
fancy. Lou had been down first and had already eaten when I got
downstairs. She made me some scrambled eggs but told Wesson to cook his
own, and I'd just finished mine when the phone rang. This had been
installed between my visits. I looked quizzically at Wesson and hoped that
it wasn't Frobisher with some calamity. It wasn't, but it was still a
calamity all the same. Lou answered it and then with her hand over the
mouthpiece beckoned to me.

                                                            *

     `It's a Mister Stacey wanting to speak to you,' she said. The name
didn't ring any bells but I took the phone from her.

     `Hello,' I said into the mouthpiece.

     `Good morning Lady Francis. You don't know me. My name is Harold
Stacey, the nephew of Patrick Truell. I'm afraid to say that he passed away
sometime over Friday night. He was found by his cleaner yesterday morning
and I've just got round to ringing people up to tell them of the sad news.'

     It was indeed bad news. I choked back a sob at the thought of that
lonely old man dying without anyone to hold his hand. `I know you were his
favourite client and would want to be told as early as possible.' I tried
to speak but could only make vague noises down the phone. `We are holding
the funeral on Thursday morning at eleven at the Trowbridge
cemetery. Reception at the house afterwards. I do hope you will attend.'

     `I'm so sorry Mr Stacey, of course we'll be there. I didn't know he
was ill.'

     `Neither did we. It was a heart attack, sudden like.'

     `Well my condolences to you Mr Stacey and we will definitely be
there. Thank you for ringing and letting us know.' I then put the phone
down and saw that they guessed that somebody had died. `Mr. Truell, my
solicitor in Trowbridge has died. The funeral is on Thursday. I said that
we'd attend.' Penny was downstairs by now and so I didn't have to repeat
myself.

     `I'll go and get dressed for church. I want to have a word with the
vicar before the service.' I went upstairs with a heavy heart. He might
have been a bit cantankerous when I first started putting my foot down with
him, but we got along well after he saw the light, so to speak. My black
dress was in the wardrobe that I had last worn when Donald died and the
sight of it made me sit down on the bed and cry. I was upstairs for nearly
an hour before returning below after a good wash and putting on my make-up.

     It was all black underwear before donning that hated dress in respect
of poor Mr. Truell, and carrying my black hat, the one with the veil, down
to the sitting room. While they went to get dressed, I went over to the
vicarage to inform the vicar of Mr. Truell's passing and asked if he could
say a special prayer for him sometime during the service.

     I sat in my usual pew with Wesson beside me and Lou and Penny taking
the other seats. Peter gave a good service and spoke well of Mr. Truell for
which I was grateful. It was a sombre lunch and Peter did his best to keep
the conversation light.

     It had hit me harder than any of the others. Wesson to some degree but
not to the girls who I think only met him once. Wesson made gentle love to
me that afternoon as we went to bed for an afternoon nap after the huge
lunch we had, and held me when I wept softly.

     I was alright by dinner time and could even laugh with the others at
some outrageous jokes that Wesson told during the meal. He really had them
laughing when he described my first parachute landing and getting myself
tied up in knots. Then I had Penny make lots of notes after dinner of
things that we had to do, not just for the party, but the funeral as well.

     Because I was then relaxed, many thoughts kept flowing through my
brain and I had them both writing them down as they kept pouring out. About
the hotel on the island, aeroplanes, boats, vines, chateau, building work
for the construction firm. Land purchase in the city, military tailor,
civilian tailor, dinner party and lots of other trivia. It was really late
and two bottles of wine later that I seemed to dry up and everybody was
yawning, waiting for me to say the word. When I said the magic word,
everybody was up and hustling to get upstairs to where the word was.

     Bed. I flopped on ours and let Wesson undress me, kissing the flesh
that he revealed and let him go the whole way when he took my erection in
his mouth and made me come. Then I serviced him the same way, lovingly
teasing him till he began to beg for me to finish him off properly, and a
copious finish it was too.

      The next day was a hive of industry in the village, people cooking
and setting up the tables in the lane, hoping that the rain would hold
off. Lights strung up and more bunting erected. Allen flew backward and
forwards to Trowbridge, fetching and carrying. I also got him to order a
big wreath for Thursday's funeral in between trips.

     As we didn't have a village constable, Dave kept the pub open all day
and did a roaring trade as people finished one task and then went for a
drink before starting another. In spite of all that Flora did, she still
turned out the perfect dinner for us and this night, we went to bed early
and sex was more of a quickie than anything else.

                                                            *

     June the second and everybody was up and out early and it was
disappointing to see that it was just about to start raining, so all the
tables and chairs had to be crammed in the village hall. Then we saw the
astounding headlines of the newspapers that a British party had climbed and
conquered Mount Everest. What an announcement that was, to be made on the
day of our Queen's coronation.

     The hall was filled early with everybody wanting to watch the
television, and I was surprised at how many children there were now in the
village. When Mrs Stokes, the old shop keeper had died, Mr. and Mrs Seward
had given up their cottage to run the shop, living on the premises. Their
cottage had been let to the Ramsey's. He had been born in the village, but
had got married and moved to Trowbridge. But he had wanted to come back,
with his four children and now worked on the farm that was next to the
Farthings.

     The farm that was at the back of my house had become vacant after the
death of the farmer and I had my agent buy it at the auction. The farmhouse
itself, was currently on a short term lease to a couple with three
children, so the village was coming to life again with these youngsters
moving in. We'd probably have to start thinking of a school for them all,
but that was put on the back burner for now.

     Today, everybody wanted to see the Queen get crowned, and as we
watched her procession down the aisle, there were lots of oohs and aahs.

     `You should really be there,' Wesson nudged me as we watched with the
others.

     `No. Here is where I belong on this day,' I replied, and I felt like a
queen myself, surrounded by my subjects watching the other Queen turn and
sit on her throne. There was lots and clapping and cheering when she
finally sat facing the huge assembly there with the crown on her head, and
that was when our celebrations started.

     There had to be two sittings in the hall as it was by then, raining
outside. It was all good fun with everybody helping each other to the
mountains of cooked and cold food, cakes, jellies and the like. Lots of
orange squash for the women and children while the men drank beer, washing
down all that had been eaten.

     The party lasted well into the night till not a single scrap of food
was left and the noise got louder as the beer continued to flow. Sleeping
children were carried home to be put to bed, clutching at their small
coronation gifts, for one of the parents to come back to carry on
celebrating our new Queen.

     It was gone eleven before we called it a day, and made our weary way
down the lane, leaving others to finish off what was left of the beer and
other drinks. All in all, the day had gone off very well in spite of the
rain, but it was nice to crawl into bed to sleep off all that food and
drink we'd consumed.

     We were late getting up next morning, and looking out, saw that it was
the women only who were clearing away the debris of the party. Paper plates
and cups had been left all over the place where people had put them down in
the dark and forgotten where they'd left them. Streamers, confetti, paper
hats and lots of unidentifiable rubbish were being swept up as the men of
the village nursed their hangovers in bed. Our participation of the party
was over, leaving the others to do the clearing up as we had our makeshift
breakfasts. We just lazed away the day only ringing up the florist to
confirm that our wreaths had been delivered to the home of Mr. Truell.

                                                           *

      Allen was waiting for us next morning, suitably dressed to convey us
to the cemetery in Trowbridge. It was a reasonable turn out and I
recognised various faces of the townsfolk that came to pay their last
respects. It wasn't a long service in the church and we were soon all by
the graveside as he was lowered into the earth. I'm sure, well I know I
did, identify Mr. Stacey, going round to various people, thanking them for
attending his uncle's funeral. Then he soon approached us.

     `Thank you for coming Lady Francis. I recognised you from some
photos. Please come to the reception that is being held at his house. I
would like to talk to you later. Do you know where it is?' I said that I
didn't, but he could give the address to my chauffeur who would undoubtedly
find it. He then spoke briefly to Allen who nodded and then beckoned us to
the car.

      It was quite a large house in a small plot, not having much of a
garden, and the drive was full of cars as we arrived. Allen declined to
come in, saying that he'd rather keep an eye on the car. We were greeted
again by Mr. Stacey and his wife and soon were seated down with a drink in
our hands. Penny found some paper plates and gave us some small snacks from
the buffet. I was surprised at the number of people, as they wandered
around, stopping to say hello, knowing me by sight which I couldn't
reciprocate. Then, after a short while, Penny reappeared, her face flushed
and you could see that she was just brimming with news that she wanted to
impart.

     `You are not going to believe this,' she said breathlessly as she sat
down next to me. `Listen, all of you,' beckoning Wesson and Lou
closer. `You see those two women over there?' I could see to whom she was
referring to.

     `Well, the one on the left is, or I should say, was the cleaner to
Mr. Truell. The other woman is her best friend, or so she said. I was
sitting with my back to them but heard every word she said to her best
friend. In secret mind you.

     Well it was her who found Mr. Truell on Saturday morning. It appears
he has, or had, a room upstairs that she'd never been into before to
clean. It was his study or private room or whatever. It had always been
locked, so she'd never seen the insides before.

     Well, she arrived for work last Saturday, putting the kettle on first
as usual, calling out if he wanted some tea. Well, getting no answer, she
went upstairs to knock on his door and found it unlocked. Well...'

     `Penny!' I interrupted. `Will you please stop prefacing every sentence
with the word "well".'

     `Sorry. Well, er, sorry again. Er, she opened the door and found him
sitting in his chair. She called out to him but got no response,' I winced
at her English but didn't stop her from continuing. `and there he was,
sitting there with his pecker in his hand. I jumped to the same conclusion
that she had. He'd been masturbating when he had his heart attack.

     Now this is the best bit. The wall that he was facing was covered in
dozens of photographs, and do you know who they were of?' I had the feeling
that I knew the answer before she said it.

     `You Francis!  He'd been jerking himself off while looking at pictures
of you. There were even a couple of Gervaise can you believe.' She sat back
with the smug look of a proper gossip.

     `So what she did,' Penny leaned forward again, `was to get his pecker
out of his hand and put it away and button up his fly. Then she took all
the photos down and put them into a side drawer of his desk before she went
downstairs to phone the doctor. How's that for an ardent admirer then,
right to the last.'

     It was sickening, yet somehow pleasing, I felt both of these emotions
at the same time. I wish she hadn't told me this for it somewhat sullied
the memory I had of him. I was about to make some comment along these lines
but was saved from uttering my thoughts by the approach of Mr. Stacey.

     `Lady Francis, again, thank you for coming. Would it be inconvenient
if we could have a talk in private?' he asked. Oh shit, I thought. He wants
to talk about his uncle jerking himself to death over my pictures. I
squashed these thoughts immediately.

     `Of course,' I replied, standing up and passing my glass to Wesson.

     `Let's go upstairs.' That I didn't want to do, but followed him just
the same. He paused and opened the door to what was obviously Mr. Truell's
private little sanctum. I went in and he followed, closing the door behind
him.

     `Please sit down,' offering me the only chair in the room, the one
Truell obviously died in while he perched himself on the edge of the
desk. `I have many things to thank you for,' he began. `First for coming
today, but more importantly, for helping my uncle to become a fairly rich
man.' This surprised me, not knowing how I could have done so. Harold soon
told me.

     `My uncle quite often told me how you surprised him by your business
acumen. He said,' and he gave a little laugh, `that you first went into his
office. A little chit of a girl telling him what she wanted, and when. He
was affronted at first, but came to realise that you were something
special. You bullied him into doing what he wouldn't have dared to do,
speculate. It was your determination and guts that fired him to follow
whatever you did. In following your advice,' what advice, I said to myself?
`he followed your investments, using his own money. You made him a rich
man. More to the point, you made me a rich man, because he told me about
six months ago, that all he had would be left to me. More than that, he
said that I was to try and hitch myself to your star because, in his words,
you were going to go very far.

     Well my wife and I would like to thank you for what you did for
him. He's left us twenty thousand pounds, his shares and this house, as
well as his shares in the office. I know your relationship with him was
purely as client and solicitor, but I think it went deeper than that for
him. He was a lost man after his wife died, and I think that you were the
only person who kept him going after that sad event. I think it shows in
this,' and he opened a drawer and pulled out a bunch of photographs which
he handed to me.

     I took them and riffled through them, surprised that there was even a
couple of photos of me as a young child, in a pretty dress, smiling for the
camera, photographs I'd never seen before. I also caught a glimpse of two
of Gervaise. I didn't really know what to say to him. How much did he know?
I think he guessed how his uncle had died, but did he make any connection
between Gervaise and myself. I doubted it, but I wasn't sure. I stammered
out some words that I didn't deserve the accolades he had been heaping upon
me.

     `I know this is not really the time or place to talk business, but you
seem such a busy person that I've taken this chance to ask if you would
listen to me for a few more minutes.' I nodded, wishing that I had a drink
in my hand.

     `Since my uncle told me the story of you, and to hitch myself to your
star, I've tried to find out as much as I could about you. What you do,
what businesses you run, and found that you are an enigma. Between you and
your brother,' he didn't know I sighed, `you are multimillionaires. You own
various concerns and always seem to be expanding.

     Knowing that farm at the village where you live was coming up for
auction, I tried to bid for it. I didn't have the money, but knew I could
get a mortgage on the strength of my uncle's will. I failed because I could
not go above what your agent paid for it.'

     `Harold. May I call you Harold?' I started.

     `Please do,' he replied.

     `I...I'm not quite sure how far your research into me has gone, but I
happen to own the whole village, except for the vicarage and the church. I
wanted that farm because my house backs onto it, and I didn't want it to be
bought by a speculator to turn it into some kind of housing estate or
factory premises. This was to protect the village and if ever the other
farms come up for sale, I'll outbid anybody who tries to change that
place.'

     `Lady Francis, please forgive me. Maybe, well I think I haven't really
put myself across properly. It wasn't for speculation that I bid for that
land. It has been a dream of mine, and that of my wife, to start a small
business that promotes the countryside.

     All I really wanted was the farmhouse and some of the land to start a
market garden. A place to grow flowers and plants to sell from there and
also take to sell in the market here in Trowbridge. Maybe vegetables as
well, there is a market for fresh farm produce in a growing place like
Trowbridge.

     Now I'm getting to the nitty gritty of why I wanted to speak privately
to you. I want to follow my uncle's advice and hitch myself to your
star. If I'd been able to buy that farm, it would have taken me years to
get funds to really get it off the ground.'

     Here he took a deep breath before continuing.

     `I have the twenty thousand pounds plus, that my uncle has left me and
I would be most honoured if you would sell or lease part of that farm for
us to do this market garden, or,' and another deep breath was taken, `put
up an equivalent amount and become a partner in the venture.' This last
part came out in a rush. I could see all kinds of expressions cross his
face in a space of a few seconds. Hope, anguish, despair, pleading,
resignation at what my answer would be.

     `I could do with a drink,' was the only thing I could say at that
moment. He was up in a flash and at the door to which he opened.

     `Mavis! A drink for Lady Francis if you please,' he shouted down. He
turned to me, the question in his expression.

     `Gin and tonic please. A large one.' This was shouted down and we just
sat and looked at each other till Mavis, who up until then had just been
Mrs Stacey came in with that welcome drink. She gave me a shy smile and
seemed to half curtsey before she left us alone again.

     `She's a very shy person,' Harold said somewhat apologetically, `but
she's a wonderful mother.' What that meant exactly, I didn't ask. But I
took a hefty swig of the drink and found that there was little tonic in it,
but that was how I really liked it. The bite was enough to get my senses
going in the right direction. This was now business taking over.

     `So you want me to put in twenty thousand pounds with yours to create
a market garden on my own land?'

     `No. It doesn't have to be there, but it makes sense to have it
there. It's only a few miles from Trowbridge. Close enough for the townies
to come and buy from, and not that far to go to sell the produce.'

     `I will not sell the land. That's final.'

     `Lease then! We'd only need about six acres. That would leave enough
of the land to even build an airport on.'

                                                           *

     That hit me! I got up and went to the door and called out for Mavis.

     `Yes,' came the instant response, obviously the two had talked this
meeting over and was waiting agog for the outcome.

     `Could you ask Lou to come up with some more gin and tonics please.'

     `Certainly Lady Francis.' Within a couple of minutes, Lou was there
with an open bottle of gin and several bottles of tonic. In the meantime,
my mind was in over gear. Airport! What I could do with that thought in
mind. Not an airport per se, but a base for my planes!

     I tried to visualise the farm. How flat was it? What was the length of
the flattest piece? Long enough for a jet to land on? I didn't know, but
would have to find out. I made myself appear calm as all these thoughts
tumbled through my mind before Lou appeared with the life giving drink. She
poured me a stiff one, I think sensing that I needed it. I took my time in
sipping the drink, almost gasping at how strong Lou had made it. I let my
thoughts swirl around before I spoke, taking care that I used the right
words.

     `Let's say Harold, hypothetically, that twenty acres were up for
lease. We both put in twenty thousand pounds to rent and develop what you
plan. Is that it?'

     `Yes. No. I would still pay rent on the farmhouse. Apart from that, it
would be a fifty-fifty split.' I could see that he was beginning to
sweat. Poor sod, he was begging for this.

     `Harold, would you call Mavis up please,' I asked, taking another slug
of my drink, finishing it and offering the glass to Lou for a refill. He
was off the desk and calling down for her to come up. She entered the room
shyly and went and stood by his side.

     `How much do you love your husband?' I asked. She seemed flustered by
the question, but stammered out an answer.

     `As much as any wife could be expected to.'

     `Enough to put your trust in him to what he or you both want?'

     `Yes,' was the instant response. `I have faith in him and what he
wants to do, and will support him in all that he desires. He has,' she then
seemed to struggle for the right words to say, `he...wants to put his faith
in you. That you'll see what he dreams of,...to do something that he can be
proud of. To make a dream come true. I may not be saying the right words,
but I love this man, and if you can help him, you'll make me and others
happy too.' That was enough for me. I didn't want her going down on her
knees to beg.

     `Harold,' I said, getting up and offering my hand to him, `you, or I
should say we, are going into the market garden business. My lawyers in
London will have a fit, but we have a deal.' His face split open in a huge
smile as he clasped my hand.

     `God bless you Lady Francis. You'll not regret it. Will she Mavis?' he
said turning to his wife to embrace her.

     `Now if you would tell Lou here what you plan, we can sort out the
details later.' I shook hands again with Harold and Mavis, who bobbed a
curtsey to me as I left the room to go downstairs to see Wesson and Penny.

     `What was that all about?' Wesson asked me as I sat back down beside
him. A drink suddenly appeared, courteously from Penny's hand.

     `Well it appears that I'm going into the market garden business. But
much more than that, I'm going to build my own airfield! It costs a fortune
to rent hangar space at any airfield, so I'm going to have my own. I've
even got accommodation on site for flight crew.

     Penny! Get a telegram off as soon as possible to Stephen in the
Bahamas to come over here. Four, maybe five days. Hotel guests will have to
go by boat while he's away. Say great expansion and that I need his
expertise. Come over by the first of our planes. Cable when arriving so
that he can be met. Got that? Lyon Field, that's what I'll call it. We
could even set up a flying club, a parachute club!' I grabbed at Wesson's
arm excitedly.

     `What on earth are you talking about?' he asked with a half laugh at
my enthusiasm. I told him of my talk with Harold Stacey and what I had
agreed to. Then to the other ideas that had sprung to my mind. I hadn't
finished before Lou came down with Harold and Mavis, all smiling.

     `Much as I regret the passing of my uncle, this day has become more
memorable than you can imagine. I think he would be pleased what we have
done this day, and I hope that he is now smiling down upon us,' Harold said
as he shook my hand, and everybody else's. I could see that many of the
other mourners were waiting to say their pieces before departing, so we
made our farewells and left.

     `So you are now becoming a market gardener?' Wesson said when we were
back in the car bound for the village.

     `No. That's peanuts. We are becoming a proper airline. Our own home
base. Hangars, maintenance and all that. Plus a flying school. Parachute
jumps or whatever. I've got to get Frobisher to put in a word with the Air
Ministry so as not to block us from putting a small private airfield
there. God, I'm so excited, I can't wait to get home for you to fuck me.'
The last being whispered into his ear.

     `That's the bit I'll enjoy,' he whispered back, and I clasped his arm
even tighter to mine, loving this man who loved me. When we got back to the
village and our house, I couldn't wait to drag him upstairs, though it
didn't take much dragging. I feverishly stripped his clothes off as well as
mine before going down onto my knees to suck upon his erection. Then
presenting myself rearwards for his pleasure and my satisfaction.

     He didn't disappoint me, being as hard as an iron bar. He entered me
and I revelled in that piece of flesh of his pushing inside and easing the
tension within my whole being. His vigorous thrusts soothed the inner pangs
of desire and lust that I had for him. His steady metronomic movements were
soothing as well as assuaging the heat that burned inside me. The throb and
pulse from his hard shaft was like a balm to my insides as he methodically
fucked me and me feel great to be alive to savour the pleasure he was
giving me.

     It was his pleasure too, he told me later, to be able to hold my slim
hips and stick his dick up my arse and fuck me. When finished, he kissed me
and I went down and sucked on his still erect cock Wesson was getting as
much out of it as I was. Who was getting the better of the deal, I'm not
sure.

                                                           *

     We were all up fairly early next morning and after breakfast, said our
goodbyes and were back in London during the afternoon. Penny got hold of
William at Clement's and I asked if he'd any experience in designing an
airfield. He said he hadn't, so I told him that he'd better start learning
fast, giving a rough explanation of what I wanted. That would keep him busy
over the weekend and for a few weeks to come.

     An appointment was made for Lou to see our London lawyer in regard to
the market garden for him to liaise with the late Mr. Truell's office and
Harold Stacey's solicitor to draw up our agreements. There wasn't much more
we could do, it being so close to the weekend, so everything else was put
on hold till the Monday.

     I made a point of getting in early to clear as much of my desk as I
could before going up to see Frobisher. He didn't disagree with the idea,
especially when I said that any clandestine operations he had in mind, he
could always use the airfield as a jumping off place instead a military or
civil one. So he spoke to some people at the Ministry for me and I had an
appointment for the next afternoon.

     I took with me a huge ordinance survey map showing the proposed site
and that if agreeable, proper plans would be submitted if we got the go
ahead. Of course they wanted to see the plans right away, but I explained
that it wasn't worthwhile having drawings made if the locale wasn't
acceptable to them.

     This was then understood and the field would be acceptable to them. It
was far enough away from civil and military airfields, so it didn't look to
be a problem. I had taken Penny with me to make notes and she was given a
long list of aviation rules in regard to our plans. I assured them that all
the rules would be obeyed and qualified staff would be running the
operation when completed.

     A meeting was then set up with the council in Wiltshire that our
village came under, and I presented my plans for the old farm. When they
found out that I owned the village and had the permission of the Air
Ministry, there were no objections to both projects. I did stress upon them
that I was bringing work to the area and that local people would be
employed wherever possible.

     Then Stephen arrived and we put him up in the house and was stunned
when I suggested that be become managing director and that he could still
be based in the Bahamas as it was going to be funded from our off shore
account. He was enthusiastic over the proposal, and we went down to view
the land, dragging a surveyor along with us.

     I had done some rough drawings of what and where I wanted everything
so that it fitted in with the houses of the village down one side and the
garden centre up at the main road.

     The farm itself, had been almost rectangular, the main road frontage
was about two thousand yards while the depth was just over six thousand,
and the main point was that it was flat. So with an accurate council map of
the farm's boundaries, he could get to work straight away with William or
whoever William needed to get plans for the place drawn up.

     With everybody agreeing that it was a go, I got a contractor in to put
the four cottages that had been for the farm hands, brought up to
scratch. These would be for the aircrew and maintenance men.

     I was as happy as a pig in shit getting all this started, and was told
that if money was up front, there wasn't any problem in getting it done
before Christmas. Six months and Lyons Field could be a reality. Stephen
stayed for a week to make sure the architect knew exactly what he
wanted. Then he would pop over every month just to make sure all was going
as planned. Lou and Penny were now fully occupied in their various jobs.

     Lou took over one half of our gym to use the walls for charts on the
various enterprises that were being undertaken, though she was barred for
the hour or so when Wesson and I went naked for our unarmed combat.

     Well she was at the beginning, but after walking in when we were in
the middle of our wrestling, we gave up trying to stop her. The only
trouble was that she'd spend more time watching us than doing her job.

     We settled into a pattern of going down to Wiltshire every other
weekend to see the progress being made. Other weekends were taken up either
on a shooting range or parachuting.

                                                           *

     When approaching the village from Trowbridge, the farm was on the
right. First would be rows and rows of different vegetables growing, and
then came the farm house, set back about a hundred yards from the
road. There would be a fence going down the length of the property to keep
the public from this section. Then it would be the gardens and behind them
would be the four great big greenhouses, about a hundred feet long and
thirty wide. Next to this would come the car park for the visitors, who
would have to enter the gardens via the shop. They would also have to exit
through the shop, passing the counters stacked with fresh vegetables for
them to buy.

     Following would be the entrance to the airfield, quite large, with a
curved sign going across the entrance proclaiming it to be "Lyons
Field". The four farm workers cottages were on the left of the entrance
going into the property, and they backed onto the pub and village
hall. Just past them would be the airfield's office and reception and
opposite would be the car park backing onto the one of the market
garden. In time, we would have to extend this, because the garden became so
popular that we agreed to move the airfield car park further into the field
to accommodate the cars that came to the garden centre.

     The main runway was going to be in a direct line with the greenhouses
and run for four and a half thousand yards, and this was in a south
westerly direction from where the wind came most of the time. The pilots
later said that the greenhouses where a perfect marker for the airfield
because they could see the sunlight reflecting off the glass up to twenty
miles away and so they just lined up on them and had a perfect approach
every time.

     Carrying on into the field, on the left was the back gardens of my
lane, my garden being the last one before the cemetery of the church. It
was just past here where the control tower was to be sited. The land then
went left along the back of the church to where it met the boundary of the
other farm that followed the back gardens of the houses on the opposite
side of the lane to mine. It was in this dog leg that the hangers would be
built, large enough for at least six planes. It was ideal siting because it
then gave the tower sight of the whole of the runway.

                                                           *

     At the start of the project, we used the cottage furthest from the
road as a site office and one day, three men in dark suits appeared and
asked for the head man. Anne, a girl from the village who was acting as our
secretary and tea maker came to look for me. It took only one glance for me
to know who and what they were, so without them seeing me, told Anne to
give them coffee of whatever, but not mention my name.

     I went and phoned my house and spoke to Beatrice, telling her to get
my jewellery case and meet me at the bottom of the garden. This would save
me going all the way round to the house. By the time I got down to my back
garden fence, she had arrived there with my case. I took out my two
brooches and pinned them onto my dress before returning to where these
three men waited.

     `Good morning,' I said as I entered the cottage's parlour. `You wanted
to see me?' The men had stood up at my entrance.

     `You are the person in charge here?' the thickset man, the shorter of
the three asked.

     `Yes. Does it surprise you for a woman to be in charge?'

     `Yes. I thought a man would have been in charge of such a big
operation as building an airfield.' I could hear his accent and knew that I
was right and that he was an Italian.

     `What can I do for you?' I asked, keeping my voice pleasant.

     `Well with a construction of this size, we've come to offer our
help. We have interests in constructions such as this and can provide an
excellent service in our work and protection.'

     `Protection? From whom may I ask?'

     `Well, any labour disputes, late delivery of materials, things like
that.'

     `I didn't catch your name sir,' I said.

     `Frank Tolinni, at your service,' he said, giving a slight bow.

     `Well Mr Tolinni, my name is Lady Francis Lyon, and this,' I tapped my
brooch, `is adequate protection in all matters relating to this site.' He
moved a little closer and peered at the brooch.

     `Mamma Mia,' he said, a little bit in awe. He turned to the other two
men and rattled off in Italian like a machine gun for several minutes. The
men looked shamefaced at this tirade and their heads drooped a little.

     `Please forgive me Lady Lyon. I can see by the gold brooch that you a
high member of the Leopardi family. We didn't do our homework before coming
here. Your name escaped me for a moment, but now I can see by your face and
your stance the reason for that saying back in Italy. When the leopard and
lion lie down together, all other animals of the jungle should
beware. Please accept my apologies for intruding. Could you also enlighten
me on the other brooch, it is unfamiliar to me?'

     `It is of the House of Chen, in Hong Kong, another family to which I
have the honour of belonging.'

     `Mamma Mia,' he said for the second time. `With both those houses you
have all the protection you need. I'm so sorry to have taken up so much of
your time.' He took my proffered hand and kissed it before spitting out
some angry words to the other two as they followed him out of the
cottage. I went to the door and watched them get into a big black Mercedes
and drive off.

     `Who were they?' Anne asked, coming to stand beside me as the car
disappeared.

     `Believe me Anne, you don't want to know,' I answered. It made for a
good story to tell Wesson.

                                                           *

    In August, Marcel, in France, wanted us to be there for the pressing of
the new grapes and see how different the chateau was now that they almost
completed the renovations. We took a week off work and flew down in one of
our planes and went to see the long awaited fruit of Marcel's labours with
the new grape. The grapes being collected in big wagons and then carted off
to the presses. Then the wine began to flow and fill up the barrels. It
wasn't bad the first tasting, but we were told that after a while in the
casks, it would be of the finest quality.

     The chateau itself was a picture postcard scene, rising up from the
moat, surround by verdant grass. The windows sparkled in the sunlight and
there was a big welcome for us as we crossed this moat, using the
drawbridge that had gleaming chains attached for hoisting, though it was
inoperative. The great hall looked truly medieval with flags and banners
hanging from the cross beams and the big coat of arms above that huge
fireplace. The place was immaculate, as were the rooms, ready at any time
for occupancy.

     Our room, the main one had this massive restored four poster bed that
looked fit for a king. Wesson and I really frolicked about that night in
style in this enormous sensuous decadent sleeping place.

     It was a fantastic week and before we left, I made arrangements for a
truck load of the new wine to be sent over to England as soon as Marcel saw
fit to it being sent. This was to be done under a diplomatic seal so that I
wouldn't have to pay duty. It was costing quite a few cases of wine, but
worth it.

     Then it was back to England and watch the progress of the
airfield. The runway having been finished and they were now onto doing the
taxi lane and hard standing. The place was a mass of cables than ran the
length of the runways which would be finally fitted into the control tower,
these serviced the lights and radar installations at both ends.

     I had made it a condition with the sub-contractor, that any man who
applied for work from the village was to be given preference. The fact that
it was manual labour was immaterial, they were earning money. Dave was the
most delighted one of them all. His pub was full every lunchtime and most
evenings now, so he was happy. The new shop keepers cashed in too by making
up lunch packs and running them out to the workers for those who didn't go
to the pub.

     Harold had already planted half of the market garden in between seeing
that the green houses were erected properly and in the right places. The
whole area was a hive of industry. Allen was kept busy taking us backwards
and forwards to London as well as ferrying Stephen and the architects on
his monthly visit.

     The two jets were now making regular crossings of the Atlantic, full
each way and the hotel was having to turn down people who left it too late
for booking into the island.

     The Clement's were nearly at the end of completing all the renovations
to our street, and I had lined up some nice little contracts from the
Ministry of Works to keep them going. William was also kept busy by
designing some office blocks for the bomb sites that I'd managed to buy
from the City of London. When these plans got approved, it would mean
taking on more labourers at Clement's, so they were a happy bunch too. Our
estate agents were kept busy as were our lawyers and accountants. All in
all, everybody was working and making money.

     Wesson and I worked at our desks during the week, taking the odd time
off to visit the tailors, both military and civilian for decent uniforms
and suits. Then I got a phone call from a hospital in Dorset that Lady Lyon
had gone into labour.

                                                           *

     I was dumbfounded. Diane hadn't mentioned anything about being
pregnant. Even Wesson was stunned at the news and laconically said that I
must have done it last Christmas. I rushed down to the hospital just in
time to be told that she been delivered of a baby girl. It had been a long
labour, but both mother and daughter were doing fine.

     `Oh Diane! Why didn't you tell me,' I said when I was allowed in to
see her, kissing her and taking hold of her hand.

     `You were very busy. I've been following your progress in the
newspapers,' she said with a wan smile. `Besides, this was my very own
construction project. I was going to tell you, but thought you had enough
on your plate as it was. Have you seen your daughter yet?'

     `No darling. I came straight into see you.'

     `Well she'll be here in a minute, it's almost feeding time. Are those
flowers for me that you're crushing on the bed?' I hadn't realised I was
still holding them, almost sitting on them. I sheepishly handed them to
her.

     `Wesson and the girls asked to be remembered and hope that all goes
well. It seems that it did and I'm a bit late in saying it. Oh Diane, I
wish that you'd told me long ago. There's so much I could have done to help
you.'

     `You did your part at Christmas. There was nothing else you could do
till she arrived,' she smiled. The door to her room opened and in came a
nurse carrying a small bundle in her arms.

     `Here we are Lady Lyon. She's just waking up at the right time.' The
tiny bundle was passed over and Diane took it into her arms.

     `Come and see your daughter,' Diane smiled as she pulled back the
blanket to reveal a small pink chubby faced infant.

     `She's got dark hair,' I exclaimed.

     `All babies are born with dark hair, Sir Gervaise. You'll see it
change over the next few days,' the nurse said. `I'll be back in half an
hour,' and left us alone in the room. It was fascinating to watch Diane
settle the baby comfortable and then pull out a swollen breast and push the
nipple to the baby's mouth. Without her eyes opening, the baby lips moved
and latched onto the nipple and began sucking.

     `Like father, like daughter,' Diane laughed.

     `What have you named her?' I asked.

     `I haven't yet. I was waiting for you. But I think that we should
further confuse people by calling her Leslie. Leslie Lovell Lyon. It has a
nice ring to it, don't you think?'

     `Leslie Lovell Lyon it is. The three L's should look lovely
embroidered on her clothes,' I said smiling down at her as she breast fed
my baby. `Who's looking after Francis?' I said in alarm, just remembering
about him.

     `He's okay. The next door neighbour just couldn't wait to get her
hands on him. That's Mrs Judd. She fell in love with him the first time she
saw him. She's a grandmother herself and because she doesn't get to see her
own kin enough, has taken it upon herself to be a surrogate grandmother for
Francis. But what about you Francis?' her hand came up and stroked my face.

     `You look pale and tired, and what's with this pony-tail?' She gave it
a flip with her fingers.

     `It's my disguise. To separate me from Francis.' Then I went on to
tell her about the Colonel who wanted me to have my hair cut at the
parachute school. `So I'm adopting my style to fit my image. Gervaise seems
to be developing a somewhat flamboyant, devil may care attitude.' We were
interrupted from going any further by the entrance of the nurse to collect
Leslie.

     `That's enough for today Sir Gervaise. Lady Diane needs to get some
rest. Five minutes,' she said as she took Leslie from Diane and left the
room.

     `Get some rest Francis, you do really look as though you need it,' she
said as she stroked my face again. `Come and see me tomorrow. Where are you
staying?'

      `I hadn't given that a thought,' I replied.

     `Stay at the house. See Francis and tell him that mummy will soon be
home with his brand new sister.' I was nearly in tears when she said this,
but I choked them back and kissed her before leaving. I'd hired a car and
driver, and he took me to her house and promised to pick me up in the
morning. I then went to the house next door to make the acquaintance of Mrs
Judd, who curtsied as she greeted me.

     `Oh Sir Gervaise, what a pleasure it is to meet you at last. I know
you've flitted back and forth over the last year or two and I've been dying
to meet you. Lady Diane is always talking about you, showing me her
scrapbook of the things you and your sister are doing.' She carried on in
this vein for quite a few minutes as she ushered me into her parlour where
Francis was playing with some toys on the carpet.

     `Francis dear, here's your Daddy come to visit,' she said as she
picked him up. `Say hello.'

     `Hello,' came the shy little voice from my son. Tears came to my eyes
as he said that word to me. I longed, yearned, to snatch him out of her
arms and hug and squeeze him and tell him how much I loved him. But instead
I just said hello back to him and took his little hand in my to shake.

     `Do you remember me?' I asked of him. His eyes were round and serious
as he nodded. `Would you let me hold you?' I asked, holding out my
arms. There was a moment's hesitation before he put out his own arms for me
to take him from Mrs Judd.

     `That's beautiful,' Mrs Judd breathed as she saw the tears run down my
cheeks as I took Francis into my arms. `You should come down more often.'

     `I'll try,' I said, almost choking on my tears as I held the little
body close to mine. `I'm missing so much.'

     I then spent the last part of the day playing with the toys and
Francis till it was time for him to go to bed. I then thanked Mrs Judd and
went to the empty house to sleep. I found the gin bottle and drank most of
it before getting into an empty lonely bed for what was left of the night.

     I was back at the hospital the next day with a fresh bunch of flowers
which I didn't crush this time. Again I was given the sight of Leslie being
fed from the breast, somewhat jealous that she was sucking on what I
yearned to do. Then the baby was asleep in Diane's arms, and my heart went
out to both of them. Diane then shattered that reverie as she took my hold
of my hand.

     `Why don't you come and live with us?' She had said it softly, but it
was like an arrow to my heart, deep, penetrating and very, very painful.

     `Diane,' I began after several minutes to try and gather the many
emotions that had run through my very being. `I wish I could. I love you,
little Francis and our new little Leslie, but I also still love Wesson. I
lay in bed last night, alone, which is not usual. I may have proved myself
a man to father two such wonderful children, but that's not what I feel
inside of myself. Call me queer, a quirk of nature because that's what I
am. I have a man's outer body but I feel like a woman inside. I'm in a
constant turmoil,' I said as I kissed her hands, my head bowed over them.

     `I love you for what you can give me, but then I also love Wesson for
what he can give me. I need from him what you cannot give me. I need from
you what he cannot give me. I'm being torn apart inside and it's killing
me.' Her hand came up and stroked my hair.

     `You're still young yet Francis, but you cannot keep us this charade
forever. You've proved you are a man in many ways. Not just the fathering
of two children, but in battle and adversity, why do you have to keep
trying to prove it?'

     `Because I'm not!' I almost shouted. `I'm a woman in all respects but
for what's between my legs. Can't you understand? I'd have given my life to
do what you've just done! To have sex and then give birth to a child!'

     I stopped myself just in time from blurting out that the thing I most
wanted was to have a child sired by Wesson. I don't think she would have
truly understood how I felt in that respect. Yes, to have fathered a child
is great, but greater still is the fact of being able to give that life to
a child. To bear it, suffer the pangs and torments whilst it grew inside
you. To know that you are giving life to another from within your own
body. That is what I had craved and was bitterly disappointed with God that
I couldn't do this.

     To create from one moment of frantic coupling was not enough. I wanted
to experience it all! From the sex side at the procreation, to the sickness
and then to carry the growing foetus on to the suffering pangs of
childbirth.

     God, how I prayed to and cursed him that night when alone in Diane's
bed. When able to sire a child but not be able to bear the result and bring
forth a child into the world, was more than I could really take. For Him to
create me and give me a man's body when it should have been a woman's, made
me doubt his wisdom in all he did. It was in those dark hours of the night
that I resolved myself to take as much pleasure from the world as a woman,
and then to say to hell with the rest by acting as a man.

                                                           *

    When I got back to London, the first thing was to drag Wesson to bed
for him to fuck me. I don't think he understood my urgency as I piled up
the pillows on the bed so that I was raised up for him. Then to hold his
forearms as he came between my upraised legs and entered me. I watched his
face as I urged him on as his cock, large and grand, reamed my hungry
insides.

     `Fuck me Wesson,' I gasped between each thrust, `fuck me harder. Give
me a child,' I begged as he leaned forward, his hard member burning me with
each forward movement. I found myself pushing back and down to meet his
every push as he fucked, crying out to heaven for a child. He came in
shuddering thrusts, gasping at the effort and strain that I had put upon
him.

     He ground his pelvis hard up to mine as his sperm surged up inside me,
but I knew that it was to no avail. To paraphrase my long lost love,
Donald; it might create more pubic hairs, but it would never get me with
child. I cried as Wesson came and I couldn't really tell him why, though
many times I had tried. I did tell him though of Diane's suggestion that I
went and lived with her, and saying how I refused because I loved him more
than Diane. He held me tight for quite a while after this statement and I'm
sure I felt some tears touch my cheeks

     I left Diane's house looking as though it was florist's shop for her
arrival back from the hospital and more of a layette than she could ever
use for the new baby. It had tore at my heart strings to leave, but my ties
to Wesson were that much stronger so I had to leave to be with the love
that was strongest for me.

     I had made it known throughout that village where Diane was living,
that she was to be given whatever she wanted and the bill would be paid by
me. I threw my name about with abandon to ensure that she, or the children,
would never want for anything.

     It would be just a drop in the ocean as far as money went, but apart
from giving up myself completely, it was the best I could do under our
present circumstances.

     But then during the night when I was laying next to Wesson, hearing
him gently snore and feel the warmth of his flesh next to mine, I thought
of Diane. She wanted me as much as I wanted Wesson and yet, she was the one
alone. No warm body lying next to her at night as I had. Then little
Francis and Leslie came into my mind. Them not having a father to love them
as their mother did and tears came to my eyes as I didn't know what to do
to please everybody and myself at the same time. I cried myself to sleep
wondering what to do for the best.

     `Wesson?' I asked the next night in bed after we had made love. `Do
you think Diane and the children would move into the village if I asked
her?'

     `She might. It wouldn't be as if she was moving in amongst
strangers. I think Flora would love to have children around her, she seems
the type. Why? What's brought this on?'

     `Well it's the children. I'm not going to see them grow up if they
stay all the time in Dorset. They should be given the chance to grow where
I did, where their grandfather did. The village would be theirs eventually,
I don't think it would be fair to deny them that.'

     `I see your point. But what would you do when you have to go to the
village yourself?'

     `Well depending on the business, I would either be their father or
their aunt.'

     `And what do I go as, if I'm invited?'

     `Oh Wesson, don't say it like that!' I rolled over and stroked his
face before running my fingers through the hairs on his chest. `I wouldn't
go down without you. If I'm Gervaise, then you are my friend who is the
boyfriend of Francis. It couldn't be better.'

     `And what would Diane's reaction be to me turning up each time we
visit?'

     `That's my problem!' I said, running my hand down over his stomach to
find and fondle him. `Diane knows I can't go without this for very long.'

     `Well ask her,' he said.

     `I'm asking you first. What are your thoughts?'

     `Darling, I love you as much as Diane does. Whatever you decide won't
change my feelings for you.'

     `Oh Christ, I just don't know what to do,' I cried, burying my head
into his neck and began to sob. His arm came over and held me.

     `I can always be an uncle for the children,' he said as his hand
stroked my shoulder.

        `Oh Wesson,' I cried as my tears increased at his words, and he
held me tighter in his arms.

     I let the matter drop there, but I kept being haunted by the look of
despair in Diane's eyes when she asked me to go live with them the last
time I was there. The torment increased into my having nightmares of
children wandering through deserts and empty plains looking and crying out
for their father.

      Wesson would wake me up and kiss and calm me down and said that I
should go and see Diane to see if she would move to the village, if only to
stop the dreams that were disturbing me.

                                                           *

                                             To be continued.