Authors: T A Williams
‘So you just left him there?’ Melissa stopped painting her toenails and stared. ‘You are telling me that you gave the most desirable man in the universe a mug of tea and left him?’
‘Yes, I didn’t want him to think I was easy. You’d have done the same, Mel.’
One look at her friend’s face told her otherwise. ‘Jan, I wouldn’t have got as far as the bedroom. I would have stripped him off and leapt on him in the boathouse.’
‘It was cold out there.’
‘So you get cold. He’d soon warm you up.’ Her eyes rolled in her head. ‘A few minutes of wild sex with him and you wouldn’t have felt the cold. Believe me.’ She resumed the work on her toenails.
‘Just because he’s handsome and rich doesn’t mean I have to fling myself at him, Mel.’ There was just a hint of doubt in her voice.
‘Of course it does, Jan. That’s the way it works. The one with the strongest hand wins the trick. Everybody knows that.’
‘Well, not the way I play.’
Melissa looked up again, her expression one of disbelief. ‘So you are going to keep him waiting for months?’ Her jaw dropped.
Melissa, what do you think I am, some kind of superhero?’ Janet’s expression softened. ‘Now I’ve made my point, I have every intention of having my wicked way with him. Tonight if possible.’
‘Tonight?’
‘Listen, Mel, I used up every ounce of willpower in my body last night. There’s no way I can do it again. No, tonight’s the night. I’ve made up my mind. Now, if you don’t mind, I have some serious work to do.’
‘What, for the book?’
‘No, in the bathroom. I’d better see if everything’s still where I left it down there five years ago.’ She disappeared into the bathroom. Seconds later, her head reappeared around the door. ‘Do you want to read Tom’s piece? If we didn’t think he was obsessed by Ros before, we sure do now.’
Melissa applied the last touches to her toenails, then tottered across the room on her heels. She picked up the document and settled on the bed, gently waving her feet in the air to dry them. Her mobile phone rang. It was Graham. From the bathroom, Janet listened to the conversation, or rather the monologue from Melissa.
‘Hello darling. Yes, thanks, and you? Good … Well, this place is awesome. Five star luxury all the way. Food? Wonderful. Yes, and wonderful comfortable beds. Graham! Stop it this minute. No, we didn’t. We’ve got separate beds. Now just behave yourself. One of the women turned out to be a sadist and she beat up a young girl … No, about twenty something. No, not in our room. They were miles away. Stop it. Yes I did mention it to her and she said no … No, Graham. She isn’t into that sort of thing any more. Besides, I want you all to myself. Yes, and you. No I won’t, you’re a naughty, naughty man … And to you. Bye.’
As she put the phone down, Janet came storming out of the bathroom, razor in hand, bathrobe hastily wrapped round her, shaving cream running down her legs.
‘Melissa, you are the absolute limit. Your husband still thinks I’m some sort of bisexual nympho, and his imagination is working overtime. What was that you said, “She isn’t into that sort of this any more”? Any more! I never was. Now, you are going to promise me that when you get home you are going to tell him the truth. I mean it, Mel. Stop laughing. I’m serious. You’ve got to tell him it was you, not me, doing whatever it was you’ve forgotten, or having things done to you, by whichever of them it was. I said it’s not funny.’ In the end, she caved in and started laughing herself.
Melissa recovered her composure after a while.
‘I’m sorry, Jan. I know I shouldn’t laugh. All right, I promise I’ll tell him. To be quite honest,’ there was a twinkle in her eye, ‘I think the fact that his wife might turn out to be the bisexual nympho might be an even bigger turn-on. At least, it better had be.’
‘Thank you, Mel. You’ve no idea how pleased I am to hear that you are going to set the record straight. By the way, if your nails have dried, why don’t you dig out our costumes for tonight and give them an airing?’
‘Ooh yes, clothes. Lovely! By the way, do you want me to do your nails for you while I’m at it? You need all the help you can get with the world’s most desirable man.’
‘Putty in my hands, girl. Putty in my hands.’
‘Pen, shouldn’t you be going downstairs some time soon?’ Scott didn’t want her to move but a sense of duty made him ask.
‘Mmm. I suppose so. What time is it?’ She was still lying on top of him, her legs straddling his thighs, his cheeks caught between her palms. She nuzzled down and kissed him again. She felt him respond. Regretfully, she turned away and glanced at the clock on the bedside table.
‘Oh fuck. It’s ten to ten.’ She rolled off him, looked across at his naked body and rolled back onto him again. She kissed him for a full minute.
He came up for air. ‘Make that nine minutes to ten.’
‘Oh bugger.’ This time, she managed to find the willpower to get up. She ran into the bathroom.
‘Scottie. I should have read Tom’s thousand words. Be an angel and read it for me. You can give me a two-line précis before I go.’
‘Anything to oblige.’ He climbed out of bed and trotted round, collecting the clothes strewn all over the floor. Her bra had somehow ended up on top of the TV, but there was no sign of her pants. He found Tom’s piece of writing and settled down to read it as the shower splashed into life.
It was two minutes to ten when she reappeared. He let his eyes follow her body as she pulled on underwear, socks, jeans and her top. This reverse striptease had a most stimulating effect upon him. He looked down in amazement. He would have believed it impossible to achieve another erection for at least a week.
Penny looked across at him and followed his eyes.
‘Scottie, how wonderful. You have no idea how good that makes a girl feel.’ She grabbed her folder and came over to the bed. She perched on the edge, letting her fingers run up and down his naked body. ‘Right, two-line précis.’
He did his best to concentrate. ‘Gorgeous girl in hotel. Desk clerk called to her room. She makes him strip her: tight blue dress and black underwear. Knickers pulled off with his teeth. End of story.’
‘That’s all?’
‘That’s all. But, if you want my opinion, the man is Tom and the girl is, guess who.’
She leant forward, bestowed a tender kiss upon him and left.
Tom waited for Penny to sit down. Ros and Tiffany, noticing her red cheeks, exchanged knowing smiles.
‘Ladies, Jimmy, good morning once again. Thanks for assembling. We are going to have our work cut out today and tomorrow, so let’s get started.’ He looked around the room. It felt like being back running a tutorial group at uni. It felt good. For the first time in many a long month, he began to feel withdrawal symptoms for his day job. Maybe the time had come to get back in there. He found himself smiling.
‘But, before we start, I would just like to put something out there for you all to consider. I said this would be a collaborative, democratic undertaking, so I think this is something we should decide together. My proposition to you all is quite simple. I have been appalled at the treatment of Suzy, here, by that very unpleasant woman. I know many of you feel the same way. So my suggestion is: let’s make our book as sexy as possible, but let’s forget the whole spanking, beating, sadomasochistic thing.’
He noticed heads nodding in agreement, but he wanted this done properly.
‘Later on, I want you to divide into two groups of three to discuss and decide upon characters. I suggest you discuss this at the same time. When you report back, you can give your decision on this proposal, as well as your choice of characters.’ This seemed to be well received. ‘Right, can I ask you to dig out all the bits of paper from your folders. Suzy, did you get a folder for yourself?’
‘Yes, Tom. Thank you very much.’ The expression on her face was one of hero worship. Tom reflected that she did have a tendency to throw herself rather too rashly at people.
‘Fine, now sift through until you reach the yellow sheet. All got it? Right, I have made a few preliminary decisions, most of which you already know. I hope this won’t be considered anti-democratic. They are just a framework. Now, have you all read this sheet?’
He noticed a guilty look on Penny’s face. For the first time he also saw that she was perspiring. A flash of intuition provided the answer.
‘So, just to refresh our memories, here are a few questions. No formalities, just shout out your answer as it comes to you. No need for hand waving. OK? First question,’ he consulted his checklist. ‘Why are the various characters assembled here?’
‘A party.’
‘A house party.’
Tom stepped in. ‘So what’s the difference?’
‘It’s a weekend event. The people come to stay.’
‘Right.’ Tom moved on.
‘Where is the action of our book to be set?’
‘Here.’
‘This house.’
‘Fine, but be careful. We are currently in a hotel. What about the site of our book? It’s here in this house, but is it a house or a hotel?’
‘A house.’
‘A private house.’
‘Right. So remember that. Here in the hotel, there are waiters, porters, a maître d’hôtel. What about the private house?’
Janet answered first. ‘It’s a country estate. Surely we can assume no shortage of money, otherwise how come they’re throwing a house party? So there would be servants. Probably quite a few of them.’
‘A butler.’ Jimmy threw this one in.
‘Maids and cooks, grounds men.’
‘Maybe stable lads and a gamekeeper. Like in
Lady Chatterley
.’ Suzy showed her literary background.
Tom held up a hand. ‘That’s fine. Now, on this sheet, I have written down a few names of staff. When you split into your groups, I would like you to come up with a potted description of each, on which we can all agree. I don’t want to receive a piece in a few weeks time from Ros, talking about the blonde maid with the ample bosom, and a piece from Jimmy talking about the red-haired maid with the flat chest. Clear?’
They all nodded.
‘It might help if we model some of them on existing staff here. For example the maître d’hôtel, Mr Jeffers, would seem a good match for the butler. See what you think. Next question: when is all this happening?’
‘1920s.’
‘Right again. Now, I don’t know a lot about twentieth-century history. Anybody here know anything?’
Janet reluctantly raised a finger. ‘I did a Masters on the rise of fascism. Right time of the century, not really the right location, however.’
‘That’s brilliant. There’s a laptop in the study that’s available for use. If you can find a free half hour, could you cobble together a quick breakdown of the politics, main events, life in general in the 1920s, here in England? Maybe you could let us have it tomorrow morning?’
‘I’ll do my best.’
He ran through a few more points before coming to the main characters.
‘Now, as you all know, characters and plot are interlinked. Adam and Eve without a snake and an apple is no story. But, we’ve got to start somewhere, so I have suggested a few names. As this is a house party, I would imagine it is safe enough to assume most of the folk will be in couples. If you can think of any other possible couples or individuals to add to the list, please do so.’
He collected his papers together and looked at the clock. ‘Right, any questions before you separate into your groups? I will try to flit between the two. Yes, Ros.’
‘Who are these people? The names on this sheet? Do they have jobs, ranks, worries, fears? We know nothing about them.’
‘Absolutely right. All we have is names. What I would like you to do is to come up with a social background for each.’
‘Erm, Tom, could you give me an example?’ Suzy was not sure. A few others nodded in sympathy.
‘Fine, well,’ he turned to the flipchart and wrote two names: Aristotle and Ariadne Anstruther. He gave Jimmy a broad smile, and a ripple of laughter went up. By now, they all knew of Clinton’s attempt at deceit. ‘I knew she would make an appearance sooner or later this weekend. Right, what sort of feel do you get from these names?’
‘Toffs.’ Jimmy was first to answer.
‘Upper class bores.’ Penny was next.
‘OK, but don’t forget where we are. This is a grand house. So we can assume this is a grand house party for the rich and most probably the famous. By definition, the characters are pretty much all going to be either toffs, millionaires or celebrities. Try a bit harder.’
‘Presumably they are married, rather than brother and sister.’ Tiffany was trying her powers of deduction. ‘They don’t have a title in front of their names, so my guess is money. He’s made a pile somehow or other. Maybe out of profiteering during World War I? Could that be it?’
‘That sounds good. How else might he have got rich in the 1920s? What about technology? No internet back then but there was other stuff.’
This elicited a good number of responses. Within a few seconds, he had written ‘shipping’, ‘automobiles’ and ‘newspapers’ on the board. ‘That’s great. Now what about personal details? How old are they? What physical characteristics do they have? Physical defects, maybe?’
Penny demonstrated that she had got her mind back on the matter in hand.
‘How about he’s seventy something? She’s in her early thirties. She’s beautiful and knows it. She’s got a reputation as a man-eater. The old boy drowns his sorrows in gin and fantasises about chambermaids.’
There was a ripple of applause.
‘That’s just what we want. Well done, Penny.’ He looked round the table. ‘OK? That’s what we’re trying to do this morning. We want to build up a stock of characters with their personal background stories. Any other questions?’ He gave it a couple of seconds. ‘Right, talking of stories, the other thing I want you to do is to discuss each other’s work. That includes mine, I’m afraid. I’m not asking for a detailed critique. But if there is something that reads particularly well, or badly, make a note. What I want you to do is to see if you can transpose one or more characters from a demo piece, onto one of these characters. You worked hard to flesh them out. It would be a shame to waste them. OK?’
No more queries, so he asked them a surprise question. ‘Have any of you got a coin on you? Any denomination. If not, I’ve got a few here.’ There was a general scrabbling about. Soon they each had a coin in hand. ‘Good, now read off the date on the coin in your hand. The three most recent will form group one, the others the second group.’ They called out the dates. This divided them into Jimmy, Ros and Tiffany in group A; Suzy, Janet and Penny made up Group B. Even Tom’s insensitive antennae detected Jimmy’s disappointment at not being with Suzy. But business is business.
‘Good. It’s ten thirty. Group A stay here. Group B next door. Decide among yourselves who takes the chair. We meet back here at noon. Go.’
When they met up again, the character list was looking good. Between the two groups, they had sketched out the staff hierarchy, inventing details designed to prove useful in the plot. The butler, Arthur Grimshaw, was in love with the housekeeper. Tiffany, whose piece had found favour with everybody, was delighted to see her creations come to life.
One chambermaid was called Molly, the other Iris. They were scatty girls, not averse to a bit of fun. The kitchen maids were ruled with a rod of iron by the cook, a behemoth of a woman called Maggie. No prizes for guessing the inspiration behind that creation.
The house was the property of Sir Simon Wilson-Spender, a self-made millionaire in his late sixties. His wife was the considerably younger Lady Margaret. She was from an old aristocratic family, now fallen upon hard times. Sir Simon was an irascible bully of a man. Hers was not a happy life.
Among the guests were an American couple – Mr James Johnson and his young bride, Madeleine. She was of French extraction, far more refined than her husband. She was already regretting the match. He had a habit of slapping his and other people’s thighs, and bursting into song, normally about wagon trains across the vast prairie. His fortune, from his ownership of large oilfields, was immense.
Wing Commander Jefferson Forbes was a one-armed hero of the Royal Flying Corps. His wife was mousy and considerably older than him. She, however, controlled the purse strings.
The Honourable Evelyn Parry and his brother Silas were in their twenties. Both were Cambridge rowing blues, although Silas, the younger one, had just been sent down for licentious behaviour.
Mrs Forbes-Henderson was accompanied by her twin daughters, Agatha and Susanna. The girls were in their late teens and had led a very sheltered life.
And so it went on, until a discreet knock on the door of conference room A interrupted their deliberations. A waiter announced that luncheon would be served in half an hour. Sherry was available in the morning room, where the partners of the writers were waiting. Tom stood up.
‘Right, time’s up. Well done everybody. We’ve made real progress. This afternoon we set about establishing the plot. Let’s meet back here at two o’clock.’ Something in Penny’s face made him change his mind. ‘On the other hand, let’s make it two thirty.’
Ros spotted Tom in the dining room. As the others were all in the morning room, she took the opportunity to come in for a chat. Tom, who had been preparing his papers for the afternoon session, was only too happy to see her. He was seated at a small table in the corner. The rest of the tables were covered in upturned chairs. Some major furniture removal was going on..
She perched on one of the tables opposite him. He did his best to drag his attention away from those wonderful long legs.
She was glad to see him looking relaxed. ‘Happy with the way things went this morning?’
‘Very. I am even beginning to see the skeleton of a plot emerging from that pot pourri of characters. And I get some good, positive vibes from everybody, including both Jimmy and Suzy.’ He leant back in his seat, stretching his neck and shoulders. ‘So how did it go last night with Suzy?’
‘You mean, Suzy, who thinks she could rather fancy you?’ She gave him a smile. ‘Although you may still be in the queue behind Jimmy and Alfonso.’
‘I have got quite a story I could tell you about Alfonso.’
‘All right, I’ll show you mine, if you show me yours.’
‘It’s deal. You go first.’ He sat back and listened.
‘Well, she was in a terrible state initially. She cried and cried. Gradually, she began to calm down. I made her a cup of tea. After that, she got quite chirpy.’ She sounded amazed. ‘She really seems to have no inhibitions at all.’
‘I did notice.’
‘She sat and drank tea with me with her robe wide open, without batting an eyelid. Now, in my professional career, I have spent a quite inordinate amount of time virtually naked, or in the presence of people in a similar state. But, even for me, it was a weird experience. In the end I had to tell her to cover up, in case she caught cold.’
‘Did she tell you anything?’
‘Everything. We didn’t get to sleep till gone three o’clock. She told me the whole saga. It seems that Maggie’s husband was her sugar daddy.’
‘That sounds like the title of a ragtime song.’
‘Apparently it’s all the rage now. With high tuition fees at university these days, she tells me that lots of girls are getting their fees paid by sugar daddies. There are websites just for this.’ Catching the expression on his face, she nodded. ‘Yes, it’s pretty distasteful. Older men offer to sponsor girls through university in exchange for “friendship”. And I think we both know what that leads to.’
‘Ours is a friendship.’ He gave her a shy smile.
‘It certainly is.’ For a moment, it was on the tip of her tongue to say more but she stuck to her resolve. He needed time. She would let him make the running.
‘Does that make me a sugar daddy?’
‘You can be whatever you want to be. Come to think of it, I missed out on university because of my career. It’s something I’ve been meaning to remedy. And if a handsome sugar daddy were to sponsor me … ’
‘Did you say, handsome?’
She chose to ignore that one. ‘Well, anyway, Suzy … She got to know Harry, that was Maggie’s husband. He had an internet shop selling novelties. A few years ago, he moved on from furry dice to sex toys. You know, vibrators, sexy underwear and so on. Well, poor Suzy soon got roped in as a model. From there, it was the slippery slope. Before long she was having erotic threesomes with Harry and Maggie, all in the cause of education.’