by David Carter
Gringo had written a beautiful woman, which is where you come in, his exact words, didn’t you just love him, down in pen and ink, surely that couldn’t be a precursor to a dumping, could it? He couldn’t be trying to let her down lightly, could he? Her excited eyes fled across the inky letters.
She read his comments about her slacks. I wear the trousers. She read the part about her God-awful underwear, and what he expected her to wear in future. Bloody cheek! She read of his threat of spankings, thrashings even. Had the man not heard of equal rights? Was he a madman? And yet deep down, and she would never have admitted it to a living soul, well maybe to Vicky, she was secretly excited at the prospect. She read of what he intended doing with her on the forthcoming weekend.
You can most definitely say, in modern parlance, that you are on a promise this coming weekend, big time, and there will be no stopping either.
Thank you God, thank you.
I still am,
Gringo Greene
XXX
What a strange way to end, she thought, why couldn’t he use the love word, but then again he was a man, and men, well, they left a lot to be desired when it came to expressing themselves, the poor things.
And there will be no stopping either.
Maria shrugged her shoulders and read the letter again.
And again. And again.
Sixteen
The next morning she arrived at work ten minutes earlier than usual. The adrenaline had kicked her out of bed. Vicky’s desk opposite was vacant, but she came in five minutes later and was surprised to see Maria sitting there, printouts already spread across the desk, files open, pen in hand, adding machine hot and dusty.
‘You’re keen today.’
Maria glanced up and grinned and came straight to the point.
‘I’ve had a letter.’
‘Have you now. From him?’
Maria bobbed her head.
‘Proposed marriage, has he?’
‘No. Course not. Don’t be silly.’
‘Well, whatever it is, it’s certainly put a smile back on your face.’
Maria giggled.
Vicky slipped off her raincoat and hung it on the new chrome stand.
‘Have you got it with you?’
‘Might have.’
Vicky held out her hand. ‘Come on. Give. Give.’
‘I can’t do that!’
‘Why ever not? Is it a rude letter?’
‘A little bit.’
‘I see. I had a bloke once, he wrote me the most filthy letters, talk about being bombarded with descriptive filth, and now I shudder to think that I actually agreed to go out with him, out of curiosity more than anything else, but what a bloody let down. The poor love had no idea what to do. Not a clue in his thick ginger head. Never trust filth writers, that’s my motto, it has been ever since.’
Maria giggled again.
‘It’s not a filthy letter, not exactly.’
‘But marginally exciting?’
‘Oh yes. Very much so.’
They both spotted Mister Julip heading their way at the same moment.
‘Eh up, here’s trouble,’ said Vicky as they both kept their heads firmly buried in figures.
But Julip stopped at the desk anyway and said: ‘Now come along ladies, I really must have those Quality Building Supplies audits completed by lunchtime. So, chop, chop, and let’s see some smoke coming off this desk today.’
‘Yes, Mister Julip,’ said Maria, and they both watched him turn tail and clear off to annoy someone else.
‘Chop, chop, indeed, the bloody prick,’ whispered Vicky. ‘Who the hell does he think he is?’
Maria giggled again and began punching data into the adding machine.
‘So what did he say?’ asked Vicky.
‘I’ll tell you later.’
‘Shall we go down the wine bar at lunchtime for a bit of peace and quiet?’
‘Yeah, let’s, half twelve.’
‘I’ll see that letter yet, young woman.’
Maria rippled her eyebrows and considered whether there was anything in it that Vicky couldn’t or shouldn’t see.
Naomi was the only one on duty behind the bar in Shaman’s that day. She knew Vicky Williams pretty well, they had once flirted with going to Keep Fit together, but today Naomi’s eyes were more taken with the vaguely familiar petite and striking Asian girl who came in with her. A moment later, Vicky introduced them.
‘What will it be?’ asked Naomi.
‘Two white wines.’
‘Why don’t you two take a seat? I’ll bring them over.’
‘Ta, Naomi,’ said Vicky, and the girls found a vacant table in the far corner.
‘So,’ said Vicky, holding out her hand. ‘Come on, show, show, show, you know us girls must stick together; sharing love letters is the least of it. Share and share alike.’
‘I don’t know. It’s not really a love letter.’
‘Well if it’s not a filthy letter, and it’s not a love letter, and it’s not a thanks but no thanks letter, and it’s not a proposal, what sort of bloody letter is it?’
‘Shush,’ whispered Maria, as Naomi approached with the drinks.
Naomi smiled at Maria as she set the drinks down, and it wasn’t just a friendly thanks-for-your-custom type smile.
‘Is is me, or is she a bit flirty?’ said Maria, after Naomi was safely back behind the bar, serving a brace of big red-faced fellas.
‘What, Naomi?’ said Vicky, glancing back across the room.
Maria bobbed her head. ‘Yeah.’
‘Nah. I have never noticed anything.’
Maria thought for a second and then went into her handbag. Vicky could now see the letter from where she was sitting. Maria hesitated. Vicky kept quiet, hoping for success, she could do with a laugh, and maybe a tiny bit of titillation. Ever since she’d fallen out with Herbie men had been pretty thin on the ground, and anything that brightened up her life was better than nothing. A touch of titillation goes a long way, and besides, she liked the look of mister Gringo Greene, and if he ever became fed up with little Miss Perfect here, then she would be more than happy to step in and fill the void, or better still, let him do so.
‘All right,’ said Maria, still holding the letter tightly. ‘But you must never say anything to anyone, and especially not to Gringo. He’d go crazy.’
‘Course, dib, dib, dib, Brownie’s honour and all that nonsense.’
Maria slipped the letter into Vicky’s hand.
Naomi had finished serving the guys and was wondering what was going down with the bitches in the corner. They were up to something, that much was obvious, they’d been conniving like the gunpowder plotters since they’d come in, whispering and giggling, earnest looks on the pretty one’s face, and then what looked like a handwritten letter being passed over, a love letter sure as quail’s eggs are awful. Naomi wouldn’t mind getting a butchers at that letter, and was wondering how she could achieve it. The ever so slightly overweight ginger one, Vicky, was now engrossed. Even from where Naomi was standing, she could see ginger’s eyes racing over the words. Naomi would bet that it would only be a matter of minutes before that corner was filled with hysterical laughter.
Vicky’s breathing had visibly slowed and her eyes had widened.
…then I will most definitely be in the mood for the company of a beautiful woman, which is where you come in.
‘Beautiful! He thinks you are fucking beautiful!’ she shrieked.
‘I am beautiful,’ said Maria, somewhat taken aback.
‘Yeah, course you are, doll,’ said Vick, reaching over and tapping Maria’s thigh. ‘Course you are, darling, sorry girl, you are far too beautiful for a bloke like him.’
Her eyes darted back to the strange long hand.
Don’t make any plans for Saturday (and Sunday too if I have my way) I am booking you now, you are spoken for. I thought we’d push the boat out and go out somewhere really nice for dinner, so get your hair done and
put on your best dress or a smart suit, but most definitely not trousers of any kind. In case you hadn’t noticed, I wear the trousers in this relationship.
‘Eh? Lucky you! Hot weekend coming up, eh, girl?’
Maria smiled happily and sipped her drink, as Vicky’s eyes plundered on.
And while we are on the subject of clothing, put on some sexy underwear, none of that blue serge rubbish, and if you haven’t got any slinky stuff, then bloody well get some, and if you are really lucky, before the midnight hour, I shall carry out a full kit inspection, and woe betide anyone who does not pass muster.
Vicky giggled and began singing. ‘Sexy! You’re gonna be so sexy! - Do you really wear blue serge knickers? Yuck!’ She didn’t wait for a reply, and then she said: ‘You do possess some sexy underwear, don’t you?’
‘Well, that’s the point,’ whispered Maria, leaning forward. ‘I’ve never really gone in for any of that how’s your father. That’s what I wanted to ask you. What do you think I should get? What do you recommend? And what colour?’
Christ, the girl was backward, thought Vicky.
‘I’ve got loads. Everything you can think of. Do you want to borrow some of mine?’
Maria thought better than to tell Vicky that any of her garments would be way too big for her.
‘No thanks, Vick. I think I should get something new. But what colour? White do you think? I thought with my darkish complexion white might be best.’
‘Yuck no! Not white! It’ll remind him of his mother, all milky and mush, no, definitely not white! Black or red, for sure.’
‘Do you think black would suit me?’
Vicky leant closer and patted her shoulder.
‘Course it will, kid. Your bronzed complexion framed in black lace would get any man excited, trust me, I know what I’m talking about.’
‘What do they see in all that frilly stuff? I just don’t get the idea of dressing up like something off the Christmas tree.’
‘Ah well, if we knew that we’d all bottle it, love, wouldn’t we. Who knows what goes through the minds of men when they are in that frame of mind? In that mood. When they are aroused? Jesus! Not me that’s for sure, but just take it from me, it works every time, black lace, you can’t go wrong with it, well, almost every time.’
‘A Basque, do you think?’
‘Certainly not! Far too complicated. Just too much. Over the top. No, slinky and slight, easy to slip off, that’s what men like.’
‘Knickers or thong?’
‘Knicks for sure.’
Maria didn’t say another word for a moment or two as she wondered where best to shop for such things, and when she looked up Vicky’s eyes were still hurtling along the lines.
I hope you have been behaving yourself in my absence, (you better had be!) and not going out with any strange men, that would not be advisable, and remember, you are not too big or too old to be put over my knee and given a thorough spanking, which is exactly what will happen if and when you misbehave.
Vicky giggled raucously. ‘He’s a spanker, is he?’
‘Shush!’ said Maria again, glancing across the bar at Naomi who promptly smiled back. ‘No, not that I know of, or at least he’s never…’
‘Don’t tell me any more! I don’t want to know! I have to admit I don’t mind a little bit of the old spanking myself, just so long as it doesn’t get out of hand.’
‘You are terrible, Vicky Williams.’
I hope you have been thinking of me in my absence, as I have clearly been thinking about you. One word of advice, Maria: I strongly recommend you go to bed early on the Friday night and get plenty of beauty sleep, not that you need much beauty sleep particularly, but because I can guarantee that you will not be getting much sleep on the Saturday night, and that’s a fact.
You can most definitely say, in modern parlance, that you are on a promise this coming weekend, big time, and there will be no stopping either. So there we are, hopefully that will have given you something to look forward to.
I will call for you at eight. Try and be ready.
Till then,
I still am,
Gringo Greene
XXX
‘On a promise, eh? Lucky bitch.’
‘I may be on a promise, but more to the point, is he?’
Vicky gulped her drink and blurted out: ‘Go on with you. You know you can’t wait! What did he mean when he said there will be no stopping either?’
Maria rolled her eyes and looked away.
‘What? Go on, tell.’
‘He just wants to go on and on and on, you know.’
‘Lucky you. It’s usually the other way round.’
‘No, more than that, he is insatiable. Long after I want to stop he is only just getting going. You’d never think it to look at him. He’s no Arnie Schwarzenegger, but boy, he’s got some stamina, I’ll give him that. I’ve never come across anyone quite like him.’
‘Let out a few horny moans and groans, that usually fixes them.’
‘I’ve tried that.’
‘Step it up a degree.’
‘How do you mean.’
‘Start yelping.’
‘Yelping?’
‘Yeah, you know like a dog being whipped mercilessly, and keep on doing it until he stops, ratchet it up if need be. That’s sure to do the trick.’
‘You are a mine of weird information, Vicky Williams.’
Vicky smiled, revelling in her reputation.
‘Perhaps you should pass him on to me when you’ve finished,’ she said, half jokingly.
‘Funny you should say that.’
Vicky shot a glance at Maria’s face, and saw that childish, mischievous look was back.
‘What do you mean?’
‘Well, I know you haven’t anyone on the go at the moment, it’s just a pity that I like him so much, I want to keep him all to myself, or otherwise I wouldn’t have minded…’
Vicky butted in. ‘You mean a threesome?’
‘Shush! Good God no! I don’t think I could ever do that. Sometimes I’m embarrassed enough with just a twosome, never mind three.’
Vicky slurped her wine, her mind racing, and then said: ‘I’m game, girl, if you ever change your mind.’
Maria didn’t answer, but thoughtfully sipped her drink.
‘Have you ever, you know, with more than one?’
Vicky glanced around the bar. Naomi was serving a whole gang of people who’d just come in together. Even Vicky lowered her voice this time.
‘I have as it happens. A foursome if you must know, in Ayia Nappa, a few years ago.’
‘Two boys and two girls?’
‘No-ooo, don’t be daft.’
‘What! Three fellas… at the same time?’
Vicky nodded and couldn’t stop a look of achievement edging across her pink face.
‘What did they all do?’
‘Maria! What the hell do you think they all did?’
Maria could picture it now. Some small and scruffy hotel room, the grubby windows wide open because of the heat, and Vicky, with three mismatched squabbling guys.
‘God! How could you?’
‘Dunno. Course I was well pissed at the time, and so were they, so far as I recall. I wouldn’t ever do it again. I was so sore in the morning, you wouldn’t believe, but it was one of those Hundred Things To Do Before You Die, so that one’s well and truly crossed off.’
‘Vicky Williams, I’m shocked! You are terrible!’
Maria glanced at her watch.
‘Oh hell, look at the time. Old Julip will be having a heart attack.’
They drained their glasses and made their way back through the busy bar.
‘Bye Maria,’ cooed Naomi, through the crowd.
Maria kept walking. Didn’t say a word.
Seventeen
On Saturday morning the Greene family stirred at nine o’clock. Gringo’s mother made him scrambled eggs just the way he liked them. It had always been his favourite
meal as a child, and still was, and she hadn’t lost the knack for his mother made the best scrambled eggs in the world.
It was half past ten by the time he lumped his case into the car. It was a sunny morning and Gringo was looking forward to the long drive home. His parents came and stood by the car, Felix dashing about their feet, before reminding the browning marigolds in the front garden of who was the master.
‘Don’t leave it so long next time, son,’ whispered his mother as he hugged her by the old wooden gate.
‘I won’t, mum.’
Her body felt frail, so vulnerable.
‘I love you so very much,’ she whispered.
‘I love you too, mum.’
She was reluctant to leave his embrace, yet knew she must. She wondered how long it would be before she felt her son’s strong arms around her again. In his turn father stepped forward and offered his hand. He’d never been much of a huggy type of guy.
Gringo grasped the crooked, cold hand. There was no strength within it. He squeezed it gently. His father peered out through his rheumy eyes and looked his only son square in the face.
‘You find yourself a nice girl, Kevin, and settle down.’
‘I’m working on it, dad.’
‘Don’t work on it! Just do it!’
Even then he hadn’t been able to keep the irritability from his voice.
‘I’m trying, dad, I really am.’
‘We won’t be here forever, you now.’
‘Get away with you. You’ve twenty years left in you yet.’
He saw the guilty glance his parents shared. Life can be fragile, they were fragile.
‘Come back soon,’ urged his mother, fighting back a tear.
‘Come for Christmas, why don’t you? Bring someone. We’ll have the guest room done out for you, it’ll be lovely,’ said father.
‘Come whenever you like,’ added his mother, as Gringo jumped into the car. He buzzed down the windows and waved and shouted a final goodbye, started the car and eased away from the cottage, and as he did so, he couldn’t take his eyes from the rear view mirror. They were still waving all the way down the lane until he was out of sight around the bend. Perhaps they were still waving now. He could picture that well enough, the pair of them waving at an empty and cold lane, at the swathes of golden oak leaves blowing in the wind.
