Glynis quietly left with her helper, via a back door, unfazed by events.
Seven men needed medical attention and three were at the casualty department of Crabby General Hospital. The elderly man, whose lap Glynis sat on, was kept in overnight with a suspect heart attack and hypertension.
No arrests were made. Eventually, all went quiet in Crabby. The ‘face’ was oblivious to events. The church of St Jasper’s earned itself a new nickname as it became known among the humorous as St Jerker’s.
When the four heard of the events, they expressed their dismay that planning the Heist had been more important.
Lenny became determined to improve his English and, hopefully, attract a better class of ‘skirt’.
Jock tried to hide every time Martha came into view, usually blowing him a kiss and waving to him by wiggling her fingers.
The Colonel was now taking a daily walk along the bank of the River Crabbe, planning the ultimate heist.
Glynis pondered when she could next display her charms and really earn the name as the oldest Burlesque girl in town.
Chapter 15
FOR several days, the vicar lay in his bed, shaking and muttering as Mary tried to console him without any signs of improvement. A retired clergyman was drafted in to undertake the daily running of the church. The Reverend Bernard Murphy bemoaned his fate, thinking he would have to take-up a foreign ministry for what he had become to believe was ‘the devil’s work’ in disgracing him.
His Diocese Bishop, the Right Reverend Alan Struthers, had learned he wasn’t well, and his affliction was because of a well-meaning fund-raising scheme that had gone wrong. He arrived at St Jasper’s a few days later after learning of the incident. He first listened to Mary’s version of events and the results.
“Honestly, neither of us knew exactly what she had in mind. It seemed a good idea at the time. Oh! Dear, it’s made Bernie so ill. The doctor says he is suffering from nervous exhaustion. He thinks you will replace him and send him in disgrace to some foreign land to run a missionary. That’s not what I want,” she forcefully emphasised.
The Bishop listened to Mary’s concerns, and finally said, “I have no intention of removing his from here. Let us pray for Bernard’s recovery. I will meet him and reassure him everything is tickety-boo. He’s a good well-intentioned brother of the church.” The two sat heads bowed and said a quiet prayer.
A few minutes later, he was sitting at the bedside of the little vicar and patiently listened to his woes. “She didn’t give me the whole picture about her act. It was so embarrassing she was strutting across the stage half-naked. Then, some men tried to get on stage and fighting broke out. Oh! Lord, forgive me. What do my few regulars think? They must feel ill of me. Oh! What a disaster!”
The Bishop smiled and said in a soothing voice, "My dear fellow, there is nothing that you should be ashamed about. From what I understand, the two male regulars urged her on and were battered over their heads by two women wielding umbrellas.
"As for your only regular female member of your congregation, well, she’s deaf and before the ruckus began, she had fallen asleep. I understand your congregation has now grown to twenty, and the events and the parish coffers have improved. It wasn’t the disaster you thought.
"You should be proud of the achievement. What you did is just what modern thinking parishes should be doing. I will be contacting other vicars and urge them to stage similar shows.
“Now tell me, who is this lady that helped church funds, and can I tell others to contact her?”
The vicar replied, pointing to a large house opposite, “She’s a resident of the Retreat. That’s it there.”
The Bishop then added, “Good. She not far away. I will contact her. Now let us pray.”
He left soon after getting Glynis’ telephone number from Mary and telling his male secretary, “Clive, see if you can get this Glynis character and organize to meet her soonest. Tell her I have an idea that may help her.”
Less than an hour later, and after enjoying a small port in a nearby pub, the two met the burlesque queen in the lounge of the Retreat. She was dressed in tight, white slacks and a white, cashmere sweater that did little to disguise two of her formidable assets. Her long hair was tied back in a pony-tail.
After preliminary introductions, Glynis sat down, crossing her legs and placing her elbow of her left arm on her knee and cupped her chin in the palm of her hand. “Well, gentlemen, it’s a pleasure meeting two men of the church like yourself. How can I help you?” she asked with a smile.
The Bishop responded, “It’s about that show you put on at St Jasper’s.”
“Oh! Yes that, such fun doing it. Didn’t think I still had it in me,” she smiled at the two clergymen.
“You certainly have now,” the Bishop paused, fumbled with the cross hanging around his neck, “Would you consider putting on a similar show at other churches?”
Glynis paused, uncrossed her legs and asked, “Will I get paid?”
“Absolutely,” the Bishop responded. “We can talk about fees. What do you think?”
Glynis was quick to reply, “I’ll need at least two-fifty a show plus travel exes.”
“That’ll do fine. Clive will sort out a contract and organise your bookings.”
The two clergymen stood. “Glynis, please don’t stand up.” He then kissed the back of her hand. Outside, the Bishop turned to Clive, and said, “An attractive woman, that.”
He failed to mention he had known Glynis as an attractive, young dancer at the beginning of her career. He was a young trainee priest. He had a youthful interest in dancing girls. He wiped the inside of his dog collar with his handkerchief, recognising she was still a head turner.
“Yes,” Clive replied, his vows of celibacy being challenged, “She certainly would be an elegant partner for any man.”
The Bishop added, “Indeed. I’m happily married with two children. She must have been a challenge for any man when she was younger.” Not telling Clive how much of a challenge. As a young man, he chased many showgirls for a date.
After the two churchmen left, Glynis returned to her flat, rubbing her hands in glee. She would. She thought out loud, “Yes, I could be the oldest Burlesque girl in town. What a good gimmick!” She spent the rest of the afternoon working on ideas for her act. Then a brainwave came. “Why not dance to the tune of the bagpipes? I’ll think I’ll ask that Scot fella. Burlesque with a difference,” she muttered as she made ready for an evening meal at her favourite Italian restaurant in Crabby and called a taxi.
As she made her evening plans, the Bishop and Clive sent an e-mail to all clergy in the diocese, telling how successful St Jasper’s had been, and they should consider hiring the dancer, a former showgirl and theatre manager. As this was underway, the news desk at the Sun Newspaper read an e-mail from one of their Brighton informants, often called a ‘stringer’, telling how a seventy-two-year-old former strip-tease performer was to be hired by local churches to put on burlesque style shows. Among a little waffle, there was the fact that the Bishop backed the idea.
“The picture editor looked at the e-mail, and said,”God, if this true, what a picture of the ‘bish’ in his garb holding up the raised leg of the dancer wearing her flimsy costume. What a pic if we can get it!"
Senior Reporter Lance ‘Loony’ Lamb and picture man, Simon ‘Smudger’ Smith, were assigned to meet the Bishop and Glynis. The news editor chose Looney because of his interviewing techniques and writing skills. He often said to junior reporters, “Don’t let the facts spoil a good story; write to titillate.”
Smudger belonged to the old school of news photography. Taking a picture of an exposé victim, he would set the camera out of focus to make the target look suspicious as they left a building. There are those who claim that’s how press’ picture men got the title. Female operatives, it is claimed, got the nickname ‘Smudgees’.
‘Make the target suspicious and furtive’ was the order of the day.
Glynis headed for her favourite Italian restaurant, Buon Appetito, where she knew a person who dealt with the national press and told him of the offer and her plans. A little later, using the title Buckle of Brighton, he e-mailed, or as he called it, ‘filed’ the tip-off to the Sun. It was getting late, so there was no reaction that night. Glynis squealed with delight when he told her he’d sold the outline of the story to the papers. He omitted to say he hadn’t spoken to anyone on the paper.
“Fame at last,” she muttered as she made ready for bed that night, thinking that she would be known as the ‘oldest Burlesquer in town’.
Thankfully, the next day had all the appearance of a light news day. What was needed was a sexy tale. The Bishop confirmed to Looney that he’d met Glynis and suggested the old-time music hall idea after her success at St Jasper’s in Crabby. He agreed to be photographed with her, showing them smiling at the camera. Little did he realise what this meant. He’d never met a red-top picture man before.
“Right,” said Loony. “Let’s find this Glynis woman. She lives in a residential home in Crabby-by-the-Sea, which is somewhere near Brighton.”
“Never heard of it,” Smudger announced.
“Come on. Let’s find her,” Looney urged. “It’ll make the front. I can just see the splash now, Bishop backs stripper, great, eh?”
They made no arrangements to meet ‘Bent’ Buckle.
Two hours later, they were chatting to Mary Murphy in the lounge of the Retreat. She confirmed Glynis had partaken in a burlesque show organised by her husband.
“Yes, my husband is the vicar at Saint Jasper’s. Glynis did a show, and very good it was. Sadly, some of the women in the audience didn’t like her strutting around the stage and a near riot broke out. Some older men had to be taken to hospital after they were attacked by those woman when they cheered her on. My Bernie had to take sedatives afterwards for the shock. Very risqué, you know. Very amusing, though.”
Mary went on, “I used to be in showbiz,” she said slowly and conspiratorially.
“Oh! Yes?” Lance queried.
"Yes, I used to appear at All Ladies Boxing Tournaments.
Yes, I used to be a boxer, then I met my Bernie." Looney’s expression didn’t change.
Mary paused, and said, “I’ll see if Glynis will see you.”
After she had left the room, Looney said to Smudger,
“Crikey, this has the smell of a blindingly good piece.” A few minutes later, Mary returned with Glynis following.
She spoke first, “OK, lads, what can I do for you?”
Looney shook her hand and smiled, “I’m Lance Lamb of the Sun. This is Simon Smith, my colleague.” He simply smiled at Glynis as he checked the settings of one of his camera’s strung around his neck. Looney continued, “Yes, we’re here to ask you about Bishop Struthers backing your burlesque dancing.”
“Oh! Yes, what a sweetie! He has given Mary’s husband total backing for his idea of increasing church monies.”
“Is the vicar here? Can we interview him?” Looney asked gently.
Mary responded with a smile, "No, he isn’t. He’s with the
Bishop at Crabby Monastery; they’ll be here soon."
“Ah, good, Glynis. Can I call you Glynis?”
“Of course, you can, darling, what do you want to know?”
“A little about your early days up until now.”
“Well, let me see. Mother was a music hall dancer. I started on stage when I was about three. Worked my way up. When I was seventeen, I joined a London dance troupe. Did time at the Palladium and provincial theatres.” She suddenly stopped, and asked, “Do you want to see me in my stage gear? Very sexy it is.”
“Yes, it’ll probably make a good pick,” Smudger was quick to reply.
As Glynis left, Mary made the duo a cup of tea, and chatted with the newsmen, “You wouldn’t believe she’s nearly seventy-two, would you?”
“That’s for sure. She’s still a fine-looking lady,” Loony answered.
As they chatted, the Bishop and the vicar strode into the room, dressed in grey suits and wearing their dog collars. Mary introduced them. “Ah! Gentlemen of the press, I assume? Have you met the indomitable Glynis yet?” the Bishop questioned.
Both newsmen stood up and shook hands with the two clergymen. Looney replied, “We have. She’s gone off to show us her stage gear.”
Just then, Glynis strutted into the room, with a white cotton dressing gown covering most of her, the only form of ‘showbiz’ showing was her black, patent leather high heels and a garish red and black feather hat.
She strode over the Bishop, wiggling as she went, “Well, hello, Bish, good to see you again,” she then gave him a peck on both cheeks. The Bishop coughed and blushed. She turned and faced the vicar, “And, this darling man is the local vicar and Mary’s husband.” He began to blush. She waved at Mary, “Now chaps, you want to see me in my stage gear?”
Smudger, with his two cameras strung around his neck, opened the chat, “What I would like to do is get a tasty, meaningful picture of the three of you together.”
“Yes, yes,” the smiling Bishop said. “Let the public see that showbiz and the church work together.”
Smudger arranged the three in a tight group, “Right, Glynis. Let’s see your outfit.”
Without a pause, she pulled the belt of her dressing gown, revealing a tight-fitting black and red Basque, black stockings held up by a red suspender belt, partially hidden by the Basque.
Her black, high heels and the feather hat set off the illusion. The Bishop smiled and uttered, “My, you do look elegant.” Mary clapped, but said nothing.
The vicar gulped and went a shade of red.
Smudger speedily arranged some poses. After some preliminary ‘shots’, he arranged the three in a tight group. With the Bishop standing on her right and the vicar on her left, he then persuaded the Bishops to hold her left leg up. Holding it by the upper thigh behind the knee and placing it across his waist, he smiled with the effort. Glynis stretched her left arm across the vicar’s right shoulder. She held her right arm aloft. Initially, the vicar had a glum look on his face. Both Mary and Smudger encouraged him to smile.
Soon after the Bishop departed with a jaunty step and a huge grin on his face, he muttered as he got into his car, “Sometimes, being a man of the cloth can have its perks. I’d do that again, anytime.” He drove off and saw the two newsmen running down the street.
In the lounge at the Retreat, the vicar sat at a table with his head in his hands, wailing out loud, “What have I done. What have I started? Mary stroked his hair, attempting to cheer him up.”Don’t worry, darling, the Bishop likes what you’re doing to raise money for the church. Please cheer up."
Meanwhile, Glynis was stepping out of her stage costume, saying out loud, “Darn good publicity. Let’s hope it earns me lots of dosh. I think I’ll ask the SOBS to reform the Tappets. Now, there’s a thought.”
As the two newsmen were entering the Talbot, the gang of four were leaving for their usual visit to another watering hole. After they were a little distance away, Reg asked, “Now, why would one of those two give a skip and a cheer and the other laughing? I’d like to know.”
The others shrugged their shoulders, with Larry replying,
“Who cares? Maybe they’ve just won the last race at Kempton.” The newsmen called their respective news and picture desks. In London, a team consisting of news and pictures editor, chief sub-editor perused over Looney and Smudger’s offerings. The chief sub-editor spoke first, “Good grief this is good stuff. Front page stuff.”
Other reporters and researchers gathered archive pictures of the Bishop. One uncovered his wedding photos to an attractive blonde showgirl in the line-up of the troupe, the Tappets.
The papers’ first edition showed the Bishop holding up Glynis’ leg, displaying her figure and dressed in a Basque and wearing black stockings and an arm draped over her shoulder of the vicar.
The headline read:<
br />
BISHOP VICAR STRIPPER With an underscored sub-heading:
Clergy backs burlesque shows.
The story took up most of the front page.
The main body text read:
A SOUTH coast Bishop tells his clergy to stage titillating strip dances to raise church funds.
The Church of England clergyman is hiring 72-year-old Glynis Carstairs perform in church halls across the south coast. Other Bishops are planning similar events to boost church funds.
In this exclusive interview, the SUN talks to the Bishop, the vicar and the showgirl about this new-style imitative.
There followed more of the interviews plus two inside pages. The breakfast TV shows were quick to put there take on the story. The Bishop was delighted and gave on-air interviews. Glynis was euphoric. The vicar was unavailable.
When the Bishop’s wife saw, what she described as ‘that awful rag’, she howled, then went quiet and slowly said, “It’s Glynis. It’s Glynis. God, I thought she was dead. Alan, what’s this all about? This picture seems to show you enjoying yourself. I thought you’d given up that sort of hanky-panky with showgirls when we married.”
“Well, my dear, it’s all very innocent.” He pulled at his dog collar with his cheeks taking on a shade of pink.
“I’m sure it is,” she smiled and gave him a gentle kiss on the cheek. “Now,” Glynis said emphatically, “when can I meet her?” “How did you know her?” the Bishop queried.
“She still looks as good as ever after forty years. Heavens, she was a good dancer. We were in the same troupe together,” she looked fondly at her husband and went on, “The one that I was in when we first met. Now, when can I meet Glynis and talk about old times?”
“I’ll organise it toot suite,” he declared, with a sigh of relief that she didn’t mind the risqué picture on the front page.
Other members of SOBS agreed with Glynis that they reform the Tappets and negotiate with the Bishop a new financial deal.
Jock was invited to meet the ‘girls’ with the idea he could provide a Highland Theme to the dancers’ routine. He left thinking how he could use his bagpipes and accordion to back the group. No one mentioned that Martha was a member of the group.
The Final Heist Page 9
