Lettuces and Cream Page 7

  ‘We can work out the best times and things, it’s no trouble honestly. I wouldn’t have mentioned it otherwise. That’s settled then-great.’

  It was getting dark when Keith, a bit worst for wear, and Chris, finally left. Neither Mike, Jan or Chris had drunk very much. To be honest they didn’t get much of a chance because Keith had kept the bottle firmly in his grasp. It seemed that Keith liked his booze a lot, and perhaps women equally so. Of course, perhaps Chris knew all about his extra activities and did the same thing. But to Mike, having a bath in someone else’s house was a little bit sexy. In fact when Jan told him of the bathing offer, it was his unspoken conviction that it was a ploy to get them both in the house - naked. Mind you, lots of things seemed sexy to Mike. Or was he right, and Chris did fancy him?

  SEVEN

  Ever since he was quite young Mike had enjoyed taking photographs. Especially trying to capture memories and picturesque scenes he had enjoyed and wanted to retain. It was part of his sentimental streak. He particularly liked sneaking up on his children at play and catching them in their natural wild state as it were. Otherwise if they saw the camera they would immediately go into silly poses, not what he wanted at all. Attempting to capture the subtle countryside hues was another challenge, and he considered himself to be the recorder of family events. In fact his mother and other relatives had passed all their old photos to him for safekeeping.

  He had bought his first camera with money earned from his childhood paper round in the days of ‘you’ve never had it so good,’ Prime Minister McMillan. It was a really smart folding Kodak camera, together with a clip on flashgun. He still had that old camera but Jan had bought him a modern 35mm camera a couple of Christmases ago, and it was now getting heavy use. Jan had suggested that he photographed everything about the place as a series of before and after shots. And he had already been recording the house, barn and fields in various stages of change. It was a bit of a chore actually remembering to take the photo before starting any work, and very often he would have to go back to the house, take off his dirty boots, find the camera, and then back outside. However it was worth the effort, as it would eventually produce an interesting history.

  Of course, Mike being Mike, there was a sexual element to his photographic interest. One of his adventures a few years ago, back in town, had been with Barbara who liked being photographed by her husband in very explicit poses. Mike had been involved in one of these sessions and vividly remembered the excitement and pleasure that had glistened in her eyes, Unfortunately, Roy, her husband, had in other ways been an absolute bastard to poor Babs, and she eventually committed suicide. But Mike could still recall the good times and that look of passion on her face, and had wondered ever since if Jan could be inspired, after a drink or three, to give it a try. So he always kept a particular type of colour film in his camera bag that he could process at home-just in case. He had been reminded of all this today, Monday morning, when the postman had delivered the latest batch of completely innocent slides.

  ‘Slide show tonight kids.’

  ‘Have you got some funny ones of us Dad,’ Mandy chirped.

  ‘They’re always funny if you’re in them sweetheart,’ Mike quipped, the joke passing over Mandy’s pretty young head.

  ‘Can we see some of them now?’

  ‘Nope, sorry kids, it’s time you two got walking to the bus.’

  ‘Aw mum, will you take us- it’s raining?’

  ‘Well, okay, as a treat, and seeing it’s Monday morning, I’ll take you down in the car.’

  ‘Oo, great,’ David said with relief. He was a bit of a lazy bones and hated walking, sport or any vigorous exercise, unlike Mandy who was always full of unspent energy.

  ‘It will soon be half term, I’ll have to get some jobs lined up for you two,’ Mike teased. But the children ignored him as usual.

  ‘They don’t call it half term here Mum, they call it Potato Week, or something like that,’ David giggled at the thought of a Potato Week, and wondered what the heck took place at such a time.

  ‘I haven’t heard of that before, have you Mike?’

  ‘It’s a new one on me. Could be some strange local ritual I suppose. Perhaps they all dance around a spud chanting weird – chants.’

  David found this highly amusing and was well pleased with having instigated the fun.

  ‘I’ll ask Chris tonight when we go to Am Dram. Come on you two, get to the car you’re going to be late.’

  At Chris and Keith’s place, similar scenes were taking place.

  ‘I’ve done the milking-it’s in the kitchen, on the table. Are the kids ready? I’ll take them to the bus and then I’ll go on to Porth. I need to pick up some fencing posts for Long Meadow. It’s another mystery and I dunno how, but the cattle have got through into the winter Kale crop again. The gate was still shut so they must be going through the hedge, but I can’t see where, I canna see any gaps. And, we don’t want any more major break outs-do we?’ He gave Chris a pointed look, as though to say, ‘I haven’t forgiven you for not shutting the pigs up properly.’ Chris didn’t respond, she was thinking about the evening out at the Am Dram-and Janice, she now preferred thinking of her as this, not Jan. To Chris’s ears, Janice had a soft and sensuous ring about it, and she murmured to herself, savouring the sound, Janice, Janice.

  ‘Are you listening to me, Chris? Or day dreaming again?’

  ‘Um, what, yes of course I am. What day are you going up North this week?’

  ‘Soon as I get the fencing up, Wednesday I think, I should have it done by then. Anyway, I’m off, I’ll have coffee when I get back.’ Without Keith and the kids, the kitchen is quiet once more and Chris is feeling especially lustful…

  ‘That’s the kiddies sorted we just made it, the bus was just going.’ Jan shook the rain from her coat, ‘it’s pouring down again, oh yes, saw the postman on my way down to the village and we’ve had a letter today from my mum and dad. They want to come up at half term to see the kids, well, and us of course. Do you think we could sort that spare room out so they can stay, at least overnight? It’s a heck of drive for dad, he’s in his sixties after all.’

  ‘Yeah, okay, it just needs a wash down and some boxes shifted out, then we can put the bed up-should be fine, for now anyway.’

  ‘Oh, thanks love,’ Jan said, and started washing up the breakfast dishes.

  ‘We can get some advice from your dad while he’s here, he’s good at building jobs.’

  ‘He’d love that, he likes to think he’s still useful now he’s retired,’ and changing the subject Jan added, ‘I expect your mother and sister will be down next.’

  ‘Yeah, expect so, they must be busting to see the place as well. It’s a busy life out here, eh Jan?’

  ‘It is a bit. I’ll have to get some extra food in food in too. Anyway apart from the spare room what you going to do today Mike?’

  ‘I’ll get the room ready tomorrow, there no rush yet for that. And then as soon as I finish breakfast, I’ll do a bit more work on the stairway, and then this afternoon, back to getting the tunnels ready. Sometime this week we’ve got to see about getting an overdraft or a loan.’

  ‘Okay love, I’ll come with you. I could do that extra shopping while we’re in town - save on petrol.’ Jan still wasn’t happy about getting into debt but she was encouraged by Keith’s comment that pigs were paying well – they certainly seemed to be doing alright financially.

  ‘Of course,’ Mike added, ‘could get a job - just until the money comes in from the crops

  ‘But how would you have time to do the work here and work in a job? You work from dawn to dusk as it is.’

  ‘We’ll sort something out, lets see what the bank says first,’ he sensed that Jan was worried, he got up from the table and gave her a kiss on the cheek, ‘it will be okay love, cheer up, you’ve got a night out tonight.’

  ‘Oh yes, so I have.’ Jan perked up, she was looking forward to it, and it was a chance to dress up a bit for the fir
st time in weeks. Nothing to over the top though, just in case all the members were farming types and turned up in wellies. Back home in town it would have been a case of, dress up or die of shame. Not too much make -up though, but then she never did. She didn’t think she needed it and Mike didn’t like the smell of make-up - or the taste of lipstick. He would joke that he liked to smell real woman, not powder and stuff.

  ‘And a chauffeur to drive you there, mind you, that van of theirs is a bit mucky if you’ re dressed up.’

  ‘They do have a tidy car as well, we’ll be going in that - I hope.’

  ‘Oo posh eh?’ Mike joked.

  The day, once again, passed in a busy blur of activity and with great speed Jan’s evening out was upon her.

  ‘What time is Chris calling for you?’

  ‘Not sure really, about seven, I think.’

  ‘I’ll sort the kids out, you go and get ready, you don’t want to be late.’

  ‘Thanks love, you’re so good to me,’ Jan mocked.

  ‘You can pay me back – later,’ Mike gave a suggestive leer.

  ‘Uh, typical,’ knowing what he meant, she a gave weak and rather sad little smile.

  That evening, with Jan out and the children settled, Mike sat by the fire having a leisurely cigarette and a cup of coffee –he drank a lot of coffee. He opened one of the boxes of books that were still unpacked and browsed through the contents. He missed the library of back home, and bookshops, the nearest for both was now twenty miles away and anyway he just didn’t have the time. Freud, Jung, Adler and others, had all been, and still were, grist to his mill. His reading was an attempt to rationalize his need for sex – with other women if Jan wasn’t interested, just like those ‘professional’ wife swappers in California that he had read about - and yet keep the love he had for Jan and the kids. At quiet moments such thoughts would unexpectedly pop into his mind and yet another analysis of their relationship would begin in his head. And despite all the other practical things he now had to consider in his new life, including the extremely unsexy emptying of the chemical toilet, he often returned to asking the same question. How could sex and love could be accommodated in a ‘nice’ and civilised way? He certainly wasn’t the sort of confident, indifferent man that would pay for sex, impersonal sex of that sort just wasn’t for him. But he didn’t think that he and Jan were so very different from other couples -like Keith and Chris for instance, and he assumed all couples had similar problems at some time or other.

  Perhaps what made Mike and Jan different was that the love element of their lives, the concern for each other’s well-being was stronger than the sexual side. Or was it that they were both too lazy to do anything so disruptive as permanently seek fresh horizons? He just wished that he could clarify his ideas once and for all. To file them, get them out of his mind. Either that, or have enough sex to satisfy him. The trouble with this idea was that his interest in the topic was continually being called up, as it were, into consciousness by the fact sex is an ongoing need, although maybe changing in some manner or another as time passes by. So it seemed that a perfect formula - a safe justification for having sex with other women and still having the same close loving relationship with Jan was a pipe dream. However, he would not stop trying to find some logic to a seemingly illogical problem.

  ‘Daad,’ Mandy called from upstairs, breaking Mikes train of thought.

  ‘Hello sweetheart, what is it?’

  ‘Will you read us a story?’

  Mike got up, stubbed his cigarette and headed upstairs calling out as he did so.

  ‘Coming up – it’s not going to be Bleep and Booster again is it?’

  ‘Oh yes, it’s our favourite.’

  Don’t I know it, Mike thought good naturedly, though somewhat sick of the same story, and he wondered how much longer the tattered book would last.

  ‘Bleep and Booster it is then, kids.’

  Chris stopped the car some way from the house, but Jan hadn’t really noticed because they were so engrossed discussing the ins and outs of the Drama group members. After the meeting they had all trooped along to a nearby old village pub, where Jan had, exceptionally, imbibed a few vodkas and orange and was a little tipsy. With the engine now silent the car, with the soft greenish glow of the dashboard lights, was warm, cosy and womb like, Jan felt comfortable and relaxed.

  …’ Oh, her - Agnes - yes she’s a bit odd, but she’s good behind stage, a really good help with the props.’

  ‘Colin seems pretty good as a producer and director.’

  ‘God, and doesn’t he know it, the way he struts around with his cigarette holder –thinks he’s Noel Coward,’ they both laugh at this picture.

  ‘Mind you, you’re pretty good yourself. You’re great at accents and we all liked your old Scottish lady impression. Really good.’ Her hand patted Jan lightly on the knee, coming to a stop on her thigh. Jan hadn’t really noticed this either, particularly through the fabric of her skirt.

  ‘So, what do you think Janice, will you be coming along? They’re a really good crowd, and we get good audiences too. And you’ve done big scale Shows before in the big city, you’re the expert.’ As she spoke, her hand moved with gently stroking movements on Jan’s leg.

  ‘Big city? Barey? It’s only a little town,’ Jan tittered.

  ‘Mike won’t mind you being out at rehearsals will he?’

  ‘God no-he’s used to it.’

  ‘That’s great Janice.’ Chris said quietly, her hand continuing to stroke Jan’s leg.

  ‘It’s a brilliant little theatre, yes, I like it, but,’ she tittered again, ‘I don’t know about me being an expert.’ Jan was basking in the glow of the Vodka and reliving the pleasant evening, seeing the theatre and the people in her minds eye and realizing she had been missing the fun of acting and singing. She hadn’t thought she would have, and she certainly had plenty of work at home-but woman cannot live by bread alone.

  ‘Say you will, Janice. The Panto this year is Cinderella-you’d be great as Prince Charming.’

  ‘Oh yes. One of the ugly sisters, more like,’ Jan replied with cheerful scorn. The hand had now begun to lift Jan’s skirt as it travelled slowly up Jan’s leg. And although the atmosphere in the car was warm she suddenly noticed the cooler air on her naked legs and realized for the first time what Chris was doing, and a rush of confusion came to her mind.

  ‘Proper dressing rooms as well, that’s more than we used to have back in Baray. The changing rooms were more like cupboards.’ What she was saying seemed totally silly under the circumstances, and her own voice sounded odd, distant somehow. Maybe she was beguiled by Chris’s soft voice and intriguing accent. Chris too continued chatting nonchalantly; the hand still moving - she was quite a seducer.

  ‘Well, it’s quite a new place, I think it’s only about ten years old. The Council built it as a training facility and the local schools use it during the day, and on some nights the Welsh drama group. The Pantomime is our big thing, we get all the kiddies in and the place is full. They must make quite a bit of money from it.’

  The hand was now on the warm skin of inner thigh and Jan could feel a hot, pink flush erupting on her face and breasts. Was it from desire, or embarrassment, or what else? Do I want her to go on with this - just to see what happens? Do I want to touch her? Why is she doing this? Why am I letting her? Jan had learnt long ago that unpredictable dangerous men, interested and excited, even stimulated her. But she wouldn’t want to live with one let alone have sex with them. But surely this isn’t dangerous or so wrong, she’s just another woman. The fingers of the hand were now at the edge of Jan’s knickers, touching hair and sensuous, secret lips. She didn’t want to appear as though she was aiding Chris’s actions in any way, but couldn’t stop herself from lifting her hips, and moving ever so slightly to give those fingers access. Jan couldn’t believe how excited she was, and she wanted to touch, to bring herself to climax, now, now, a voice in her head was shouting, do it, do it, touch me, rub me no
w, now, please Chris, please. But Chris’s actions were slow and teasing and she continued fondling the warm moistness. Then, she lent forward and kissed Jan full on the lips, this surprised her even more than the hand, touching, feeling. The tongue, a woman’s tongue, gently probing her mouth, licking her lips, the softness of female skin, the smell of Chris’s perfume, completed Jan’s excited confusion. And Chris’s hand soon had Jan gasping, groaning, with an intense shuddering orgasm.

  He couldn’t believe his good luck. There was some moonlight and something he hadn’t expected. A car with two dirty queer tarts – at it. He edged nearer to improve his view and maybe who they were. Closer and closer, he could see and hear them clearly now, he recognised them and was surprised. He undid his trouser zip, his eyes fixed on the arousing scene before him…

  ‘Morning sweetheart, you were back late night. I was knackered, so I went up about eleven. I think I heard you come in, but I don’t remember you coming up, I must have slept really well. Good night was it - with the Am Dram mob?’ Mike was in cheerful mood because the weather was dry and a weak sun hung in the sky.

  ‘Oh, it was a really nice theatre, with proper lights, and, a real stage manger. We were a bit late because they all go for a drink afterwards. But it was great. A real break. Would you like cooked breakfast today? I’ve got some bacon here that needs using up.’ Jan was trying to be as normal as possible but she was still dazed by what had happened in Chris’s car.

  ‘Yum, yum, I could cope with that.’

  The kids had just left on their trek to school and the house was quiet, except for a cheerful Terry Wogan, ‘fighting the flab,’ on Radio two, with his early morning show. The bacon eventually began sizzling on the extremely slow camping cooker and the air was filled with an appetizing aroma.

  ‘That smells good, I’m starving. Talking about nosh, what did you find out about that potato week business?’

  ‘Oh yeah, it’s quite interesting really. It seems that during the war they used to grow a lot of potatoes around here, and round about the middle of October-half term- they used to dig them up, and all the farmers used to help each other with the harvest. They use a machine to lift them out of the ground, but they have to be picked up by hand. Apparently the kids helped pick them up and they would all go from farm to farm until the harvest was over. Chris says there are only a few farms growing them now, mostly for cattle feed. So, there’s a bit of history for you. Ann, you know, Smiley Bear, Ann, well, her husband Emlyn still does it. And Chris said if you help to pick them up they give you a sack full or two in payment.’