Chapter 11

It was the middle of January when Sandra told me that her parents had invited me to their twenty-fifth wedding anniversary, which would be the coming Saturday. They wouldn’t be doing much, there was no visiting family or friends, so it would be just the four of them, plus me. It gave me an idea.

“We need to get people together when we are ready to be extracted,” I said to Mrs Clarke after maths on Thursday afternoon. It was afternoon break now so we had a few minutes to talk. “How about we have a birthday party, or a wedding anniversary, or something like that?”

She frowned for a moment. “An engagement party might be better. Birthdays and especially anniversaries are known well in advance, so just suddenly putting on a party, might be seen as a bit suspicious. Particularly with some of the noises being made by some of the more extreme politicians.”

“Okay,” I said slowly. “But how are we going to find someone who’s just got engaged?”

She looked at me for a moment. “You are planning on asking her to marry you aren’t you?” she said pointedly.

I just looked at her, my mind completely awhirl.

“Close your mouth,” said with gentle amusement.

“Um. Um,” I said stupidly.

“Think about it.” She turned and left.

“Oh hell,” I muttered. I didn’t go and join the gang, I went and found a corner in the library instead, and had a think. I didn’t really get anywhere.

I was almost late for the last class of the day, technical drawing, which it has to be said I wasn’t that interested in. I was doing okay and had been told I was probably on for a C grade, or with only a little more effort a B. I got there just as the master was closing the door. The rule was that once the door was closed you were officially late and could be reported as such. Most teachers gave it four or five minutes before closing the door, this one usually gave it about seven, so really I was very late. Fortunately not too late as he let me in with a frown and a ‘tut tut’ but no formal warning.

I hung around in the classroom at the end, even after Mr Malcolm had left. For once I wanted to avoid Sandra, or indeed any of the gang. I needed to really think about what Mrs Clarke had said.

I picked out a pair of Mum’s knickers, one of my all-time favourites, but ones I also hadn’t worn since they had left. I lay on my parents’ bed, gently, almost absent mindedly, playing with myself while I thought about Sandra, about Mrs Clarke, and about what Mrs Clarke had suggested. I decided I liked the idea, but I also wanted to talk it over with Mrs Clarke and with both of Sandra’s parents first.

Mrs Clarke’s only comment was, “What are you waiting for?”

When I asked how we could get married, she just smiled. “Who said you had to actually get married?”

“Oh.” I frowned. “That wasn’t ... oh. Okay.”

Mrs Clarke gave me another much more brilliant smile and I felt my cock surge.

“A real wedding would be better, but they take time to organise, while an engagement party could be organised with no more than a few days notice.”

“How quickly could you organise a wedding?”

“In principle I suppose it could be done in as little as six weeks, but that does make rather a lot of assumptions. Three months might be a better minimum, and even then you might have to take pot-luck on some aspects.”

I nodded. “I’m not gonna ask her just yet, but yeah, I will.”

She gave me a pleased little smile. “Just let me know afterwards. Either we’ll arrange everything a soon as we can afterwards, or we’ll plan a wedding for mid June, say, and see if we can get a pick up then. How does that sound?”

I nodded, my heart suddenly beating very rapidly. “After my exams?”

She laughed. “After your exams.” She sobered quickly. “I’ll try and find out when the dates are, they should have been published already, at least in outline.”

I went out with Sandra again on Saturday, but it must have been obvious that I had something on my mind, because twice she stopped and asked me outright what the matter was. Each time I denied there was anything the matter, but she was obviously worried and I think even a little hurt.

She relaxed a little, but only a little when I told her I loved her, but I don’t think she totally believed me. At one point I actually stopped in front of a jewellers to see what, if anything she might look at, but she just urged me on. We were heading for a different art gallery at the time, and I think there might have been a time limit on entry or something.

The following day was the Walmsleys’ wedding anniversary. I asked Mrs Walmsley for her opinion. She gave a little screech and a huge hug.

“I haven’t asked her yet,” I said slightly bemused. “I haven’t got her a ring or anything like that.”

“Don’t you worry about that dear. She’d be happy with just a curtain ring. When are you going to ask? Will it be today? This afternoon? Do you know when the wedding will be? Who...”

I managed to get a word in. “NO! I’m not planning on asking today, nor do I know when. I don’t know when anything will be. All I wanted to ask you was did you think it would be a good idea?”

“A very good idea. But why aren’t you asking her today?”

“I need to get some stuff done first. It should only take a day or two. I hope. But in the meantime, please, whatever you do, don’t let on.”

She looked at me for a moment, then her face changed from the bright excited look it had had, to a calm but determined look. “All right dear. But make it soon.”

It was another twenty minutes before I could ask Mr Walmsley. I’d wanted to ask him first, but events had transpired otherwise.

“Yes son,” he said slowly. “I do think it’s a good idea. A very good idea indeed.”

“You do?”

“Yes son, I really do. Do you have a ring for her? Or anything else like vague ideas about dates?”

“No rings. Maybe mid or late June for a date. Not before then ‘cos we have our A-levels.”

He nodded. “Reasonable. Okay. You need to get an engagement ring. Give me two minutes and I’ll go and steal one of her rings so you can take it to the jewellers to have them measure it. It’ll only be approximate because it won’t be for the right finger. But if you tell them that, they may be able to exchange it for the correct size afterwards. And it’s likely to be only one or at most two sizes out I would think. As for a wedding ring, I can supply you with an old family heirloom. It was my grand-mothers and it was going to be for Georgina, but, well, I assume you know something of that?”

I nodded but said nothing.

He nodded as well. “So I think it going to Sandra would be perfectly suitable. I’ll check with Monica first to make sure she hadn’t had something similar planned, but I don’t remember her ever mentioning anything of the sort.”

“Thank you. Thank you very much.”

He smiled slightly. “Spend no more than about fifty quid. You won’t get diamonds for that, they’ll be something called zirconium, but they look close enough, and you cannot afford anything more expensive. Sandra has always been one for white gold rather than yellow gold. You’ll find she never wears gold or yellow or similar as it just doesn’t suit her. Silver does, or white gold; and it’s no more expensive.”

“Thank you,” I said again.

He paused and looked at me speculatively. “Would you like to get married before your exams, and have the honeymoon afterwards?”

“Er. I don’t know. Why? Is that a good idea? What would they say at school?”

“Don’t tell anyone. At least, don’t tell anyone that doesn’t absolutely need to know.”

I shook my head. “Not sure about that,” I said slowly.

“Fair enough. It’s just that I happen to know that a wedding slot at the registrar’s office for the first Saturday in April is available. Someone at work had booked the slot, but his fiancée walked out on him two weeks ago.”

“Oh,” I said, stunned. “I’m not sure. Can I think about it?”

“Of course son. Talk to your Mrs Clarke as well. She seems to have a very sensible head on her shoulders, and she’s acting as your guardian at the moment anyway.”

“I will,” I said. That had given me another idea, about how I got rid of all the jewellery I had collected. Some of it might be junk, but surely some of it would have some value.

The rest of the day went well, and shortly before Mrs Walmsley gave me a lift home, Mr Walmsley slipped me one of Sandra’s rings.

I gave Sandra a hug and a kiss after we got out of the car, as last time she had come with us to take me home. “I love you so much,” I whispered to her. She gave me one of her wonderful smiles, then got back in the car.

I took in a small selection of the jewellery to Mrs Clarke the following day. Only a small selection because I had games that day and didn’t want to lose too much if my bag got rifled or stolen.

She was shocked when I told her, I think quite badly shocked because she gave me a very strange look. I had to explain that all the owners had, in effect, given it. “Leave it with me,” she said coolly.

I nodded. “Thank you Miss.” I left, very upset with myself. I was sure I had just lost her as a concubine, and more importantly as a friend. I hadn’t mentioned what Mr Walmsley had said, I didn’t think that would have gone down any better,

I wasn’t sure she would turn up Wednesday evening, but she did. She did her normal inspection, but seemed a touch more distant than usual. At the end, she sat me down. “Now. Explain everything. In explicit detail.”

I still had all of the keys, and the one credit card that had a balance on it. I showed them to her and explained carefully, though I didn’t mention either the knickers, or the pornographic video in which I’d seen one of the twins telling me to raid their house. Instead I put it that one of the men had told me to do it, and that a few others had agreed.

“Why didn’t the rest agree?”

“They didn’t hear him suggest it, but at least some of the others must have been in on it as more sets of keys were labelled than just those guys.” I showed her the bunches of keys and explained how I’d taken that as implicit permission.

“What else did you take?”

“Food, and that’s about it. I did take a camera kit, and a couple of films that I hadn’t seen before.”

“Which ones?”

I pointed them out on the shelf. “These three.”

She looked at them and nodded.

“Nothing else?”

“No. Not that I remember anyway.” There was no way on earth I was going to mention all the knickers I had taken.

“Have you been back?”

“Only to one just up the road, and only to raid her freezer.”

She nodded slowly. “And you’re sure you’ve taken nothing else? Just food, jewellery and some camera kit?”

“Well, it’s not jewellery only. It’s any small trinket that looked like it might be valuable, but would be easy to carry and hopefully not break. Oh, I took any money I found, but there wasn’t much. There were telly’s and computers and stuff, but I couldn’t have carried them, nor easily sold them. The jewellery seemed the obvious choice.”

She nodded. “Fair enough. All right, get it for me and I’ll see what I can do.”

I got the small case that it was all in. I’d lined it with bubble wrap, and had wrapped a few of what I thought were more fragile things in bubble wrap as well. “Oh crumbs,” she whispered when she realised just how much was there.

She went through it slowly, separating out about ten items. “I’d like to keep these, for me. I collect these myself.” I nodded. I wasn’t going to argue. She handed me a bracelet. “Give that to Sandra as a present. Tell her ... tell her ... it was your mother’s. Or your sister’s.”

“Okay.”

She pushed out four rings. “I’ll take these to a local jewellers near me and have them appraised. I can say I was left them by an aunt, or something.” She shook her head. “There’s far too much here to just take into a jewellers and say ‘give me a price’ because they’ll think it’s stolen property. If you’re lucky they’ll just tell you to go away. If you’re unlucky they’ll report you to the police, and if you’re really unlucky they’ll report you to some local gangster for poaching on their patch.”

She sighed. “I wish you’d told me this before. Why now?”

I told her about what Mr Walmsley had said. I wanted to buy Sandra something a bit more special than a fifty-pound zirconium ring, so I needed money. I also mentioned what he’d said about a wedding date in April.

Mrs Clarke looked at me hard at that news. “I’ll contact him later. In the meantime, you and I are going to go out at lunchtime tomorrow to buy your intended the best ring we can. I’ll pay for it. You can give me the money back as we sell this stuff. There is junk ... Ask Sandra to marry you on Saturday and we’ll have a party somewhere next Thursday evening.”

“Not here,” I said.

“Not here. Maybe at the Walmsleys’, but somewhere bigger would be better. It’ll be as many people as I can get together at such short notice that have agreed to be part of my pre-pack.” She sighed. “I just hope that I can get Amber capped by then. She’s wavering but she still hasn’t agreed.”

“What happens if you can’t?”

“Then the party will have to be smaller and it’ll just be a talking shop to try and sort out some bits and bobs for the collection. I’ve got it mostly sorted now, just a few other bits and pieces to go through.” She frowned at me.

“Have you spoken to Neeka yet?”

“Oh. No. Sorry.”

“Do it tomorrow. Or Friday. No later. Megan, no, not Megan. I keep saying Megan but it’s ... Margot, you couldn’t take her and Neeka, and I think Neeka would actually be good for you. From what I can work out, Margot would not do well in the Confederacy.”

“Sandra says she and Margot don’t get on.”

“That doesn’t surprise me in the slightest. But talk to Neeka.”

“All right.”

The first thing I did the following morning was to catch Sandra and ask her about Neeka.

“Neeka? Oh. Yes, if you want.” She shrugged.

“Mrs Clarke recommended her.”

“Fair enough. Not objecting.” She smiled. “I don’t really know her but from what I can find out I like her.”

I smiled. “I’m giving you a veto on anyone. Except those I’ve already got, so anyone else.”

“And don’t you forget it, buster,” she said with mock aggression, poking me in the ribs.

“As if I could,” I laughed.

I gave her the bracelet Mrs Clarke had suggested. “This was my Mum’s. It was one of her favourites. Would you like it?”

She smiled at me. “It’s pretty. I guess at least it’s not a cast off or an unwanted gift.”

I shook my head. “I think Mum would have liked you a lot.”

Mrs Clarke and I went into town at lunchtime. We had to be back in less than forty minutes, though as I was having maths with her immediately after lunch anyway, I was not going to be later than she was.

She went into one jewellers, but made me wait outside.

“I told him they needed appraising for insurance purposes,” she told me when she emerged. “This one’s worth a little under three-fifty, the other three about seventy or eighty quid each. If I sold all four together, I might just get five hundred. Four-fifty would be more likely, maybe a little less.” She looked at me. “You have a ring to buy, and I’m limiting you to two hundred pounds. That’s the value of these three. I’ll keep them and sell them. The fourth I’ll sell on your behalf.” She grinned at me. “With a five percent commission.”

“Okay.”

Her grin vanished and she nodded. “Come on then.”

We went into three good quality jewellers. Not the most expensive, but also not the dirt cheap ones either. We did find some rings, but neither of us was totally satisfied. Not in the price range she had set me.

“Oh bugger this,” she whispered. She went into a jewellers that we hadn’t planned on going into, and came out again a little later and gave me just four hundred quid. “That’s less my commission.”

“Um. Twenty quid?” I asked.

She rolled her eyes. “Think about your percentages. Think about what that four hundred represents of the original. Try again.”

“Oh yes. Um. Four hundred is ninety-five percent of ... er ... I can’t do that in my head. About twenty-one pounds? It’s four hundred, divided by ninety-five, multiplied by one-hundred.”

She sighed. “Divide ninety-five by five?”

“Nineteen.”

She looked at me.

“Oh. Er, four hundred is nineteen twentieths of the total.”

“Yes.”

“Um. Except I still can’t do that in my head.”

She held out her hand in which was twenty-one pounds and a couple of coppers. “Four hundred and twenty-one pounds and five pence. I haggled him out of the extra one pound and five.” She grinned at me. “I suppose, technically, I owe you a quarter of a penny.”

I laughed. “I think I can live without that.” I did the sums on the calculator later. 421·05 ×0·95 = 399·75. I frowned. I think, technically, I owed her a quarter of a penny.

She looked at her watch. “We’ve no time now. We’ll try again tomorrow lunchtime. Come on. We’re going to be late back at school.”

In fact we were only six minutes late, but Mrs Clarke made me go in ahead of her. She followed about thirty seconds later. That way she could pretend she didn’t know I had been late. I dropped into my seat next to Bondy. “Fuck,” I whispered. “I got backed up in the loo.”

He just laughed. He thought I was telling him I’d had a bit of constipation or similar.

“Sorry folks,” Mrs Clarke announced cheerfully as she came in a few moments later. “Everyone here?”

She left the door open for barely thirty seconds, then closed it carefully.

We picked up the perfect ring the following day. We were even lucky in that the jeweller had the right size in store. Point three of a caret of Brilliant Cut diamonds, in a solid silver ring. I had no idea exactly what ‘Brilliant Cut’ meant, but in the weak January sunshine they sparkled. It cost me a little over three hundred pounds. Was it daft? Of course it was. Was she worth it? Too bloody right she was.

“Should I go down on my knee when I ask?” I asked Mrs Clarke as we sped back to school.

She smiled wistfully. “My husband didn’t, but I ... maybe. See how it goes. Sometimes it’s romantic, sometimes it’s just silly. But do it at least in semi private. Doing it in a very public place just adds to her pressure. Particularly if other people can see what’s happening.” She gave me a soft and very beautiful smile. “Just be yourself, and be who she wants you to be.”

I nearly asked ‘who’s that?’, but just managed to keep my mouth closed. The rest of the day I was on tenterhooks. Once again I managed to avoid Sandra. It wasn’t easy but fortunately we shared no classes, and by running errands for Mrs Clarke during afternoon break, I managed to avoid her. I was convinced that if she saw me, she would somehow know. Somehow I would give the game away. Mrs Clarke was just amused, but said nothing.

“Sorry babe”, I texted her as I walked home after school. “got caught up with Mrs Clarke + lssns”.

“Ok cu 2moz?”

“Same place same time”

That just brought a smiley. We were meeting a bit earlier now, both because the days were shorter, and because her parents were happy with us being together.

“Need to see if Tee will come out next weekend,” Sandra said as I turned up at ‘our’ coffee shop just after ten. I hadn’t even had chance to say anything yet.

“Sure. What’s up?”

“She’s getting a bit stressed. Twice this week Amber nearly caught her father raping her. Tee is scared that once she finds out, he’ll just go for her anyway.”

“Oh, poor babe. Yes. Definitely. How easy would it be to organise a party and invite her?”

“What sort of party?”

I shrugged. I pretended to think about it while I slipped my hand in my pocket and retrieved the ring. I’d already seen that the shop was mostly empty: the weather wasn’t very nice, it was grey and windy and very heavily overcast. At the end of January it was still just close enough to the revelries of Christmas and the new year that most people still hadn’t recovered either their funds or their appetite for anything frivolous. The combination of the two meant there were even less people around.

I reached across the table and took one of her hands. This wasn’t that uncommon for me, and she smiled, but when she tried to pull away, for once I held on. She looked at me a little startled. I placed the box containing the ring in front of her. “Marry me.” I said softly.

She froze, her expression changing to one of absolute and total shock. I let go of her hand and she reached for the box, her hands quite visibly shaking. She opened it and her jaw, if anything, dropped even further. She raised her eyes to me and I could see a glitter in them. I was only half prepared for what she did next. She practically launched herself across the table and wrapped her arms tightly around my neck.

“Yes yes oh yes oh yes!” she squeaked into my ear.

“If I had to guess,” I heard a woman’s voice quietly from a few tables away. “I’d say he’s just proposed to her.”

“Bit young isn’t he?” I heard another woman reply. I just buried my face into Sandra’s hair and tuned them out, holding on to her as she wept copious tears down my neck.

It must have been damned uncomfortable for her, it was physically uncomfortable for me, but she just held on to me for a long time. Eventually she let go and raised her head to look at me. Her face was streaked with tears, but she had the hugest smile I’ve ever seen on her or anybody else.

“Yes,” she said softly. “I will marry you.”

“Do you want a coffee?” I asked with a grin.

She looked at me in surprise, then sat down again, laughing. “Okay.”

She took the ring out of the box; it had been held tight in her hand all this time and I could see marks where the hard box had pressed into her. Reverently she put it onto her finger. “It’s a perfect fit,” she whispered. “How did you know?”

“Your dad sneaked me one of your other rings,” I took it out of my pocket and passed it over. “The jeweller used it to estimate your ring finger. Your dad thought you normally wore that one on your middle finger,” I laughed as she put it on her middle finger. She looked down at her hands and laughed.

“Thank you,” she whispered, examining the ring. “You’ve just no idea...”

I heard the woman from the nearby table. “Told you.” I ignored her.

After a moment she looked up, a frown on her face. “Dad sneaked you a ring? Why?”

“So that I could get that one.”

“But ... that means he already knows.” Her face dropped a little and I realised I should have just told her I’d guessed.

“He knows I want to ask you, he just doesn’t know when. I felt it was right to ask his permission. We are both still only seventeen.”

Sandra looked up at me. “I was eighteen on the twenty-eighth of December. Everyone in our family has a birthday either the last week of December or the first week in January. Because of that we just don’t bother with birthdays as such. It all just gets folded into a general Christmas and new year celebration.

“Oh dear, that’s sad. Mine is at the end of August, and we usually did something a bit special.”

She shook her head. “I don’t think it’s sad. No one else does either. None of us loses out in any way.”

“I suppose so,” I said.

She looked out of the window. “It’s not very bright out. I want to see what it looks like in proper daylight.” She pouted very slightly, but it was a pretty pout and I smiled.

“I know babe. So do I.”

We left the coffee shop about an hour later, after having a celebratory cake and another coffee. She hardly let go of me between the time we both stood up and the moment we finally parted.

As we wandered along High Street she suddenly said, “I want to give you a present, but I don’t know what. And I haven’t got much cash.”

“Give me your knickers then,” I said with a laugh. I was genuinely joking.

“Okay,” she answered. I was a little surprised, but said nothing. “The only problem with that,” she said after a while, “is that I’d have to go into the loo to take them off and I can’t take you in with me and I’m not letting go of you. Ever.”

I laughed, only marginally disappointed, but relieved that she’d seen the funny side. “In that case, it’ll have to be a kiss.”

“Oh that’s not a present,” but she turned and gave me a smoking hot kiss anyway.

As we wandered back to the bus station a few hours later, she suddenly stopped, “I want to tell Mum and Dad.”

“Well tell them then.”

“I can’t.”

I frowned. Worried that they would be angry, or at least, that she though they would. “Why not babe?”

“Because I want you with me when we tell them.”

“Oh. Erm. So,”

She interrupted me. “Come home with me.”

“But,” I started.

“Oh they won’t mind. Especially if they knew you were planning this anyway. And we’ll get you home safe and sound.”

I laughed. “All right babe.”

Her parents, predictably, were very pleased. Mrs Walmsley loved the ring, cooed over it. Mr Walmsley just looked at it in surprise but said nothing.

A few minutes later, and for the first time for a few hours, Sandra finally let go of me, but only to go to the loo.

“Either you’re richer than I thought, young man,” Mr Walmsley said as his daughter vanished, “or you have less sense than I thought.”

“More money,” I said dryly. “Though not so much that that wasn’t a tiny bit painful.”

He nodded. “All right. It is very pretty, and she’ll be in raptures over it for weeks.” He shook his head. “She’s too young really, and I don’t suppose you’re much older.”

“I’m a few months younger,” I said.

He looked at me in surprise and then laughed. “Fair enough.” He lowered his voice. “Have you thought about what I suggested? Getting married before your exams?”

“Sort of. It’s not something I had really thought of.”

He nodded. “Okay son.” He turned away just as Sandra reappeared. I felt her stuff something into my pocket. I pulled it carefully out to see that she it was a piece of pink fabric. I suddenly twigged that it was her knickers. Pink and lacy and still warm from her body.

She giggled. “I know what you’re thinking,” she whispered.

“What?”

“That they are the one’s you perved me in.” She shrugged. “They might be. All my undies are pink and lacy.” I just gaped at her and she continued to giggle like a loon.

I patted her bottom. “No,” she whispered. “I haven’t gone commando.”

“You are a mad girl and I love you,” I whispered.

“Just as well. I don’t give my panties to just anyone.” She giggled once again.

“I will wear them with reverence,” I intoned softly.

She laughed. I was very serious but she assumed I was joking.

Mr Walmsley took me home a little later. Sandra came with us of course. Little was said in the car, but Sandra, sitting behind me, kept her hand on my shoulder all the way.

“I love you,” she whispered as we stood by the car for a few moments.

“I love you too,” I replied softly. “Very much.”

We kissed then separated.

I quickly locked up the house, then lay Sandra’s knickers carefully on my bed. I had a quick bite to eat, got myself a shower, then went slowly into my room. I was solidly erect even before I tried to put them on. They were too small for me, which I already knew, but unlike the pair I had seen on the radiator during New Year, these ones had stretch. They would be wearable, just, but had they not been Sandra’s I would have binned them as soon as I took them off.

I was a little sore come the morning. I had worn them all night, and had wanked myself silly in them, coming at least three times. Sandra and I had had text sex again. I told her I was wearing her knickers, but she just sent back “ha ha”. I don’t think she believed me. I thought about sending her a picture, but then thought better of it.

“I did it,” I told Mrs Clarke the following morning when she turned up for house inspection.

“Good.” That was all she said about it. She did her morning inspection then stood and talked with me for a few moments. “I won’t be here Wednesday evening, it’s parents evening for the younger kids.” There wasn’t a parents evening for the sixth formers. “I’ll try and arrange a party at school, possibly on Thursday evening. Tell Sandra she’s not to let on at school. Not for a day or two. Okay?”

“Okay, but I think she’s probably already told Tee.”

“Hmm. That’s a shame. All right, well try and make sure it doesn’t get around the school if you can. Okay?”

I nodded. “Okay Miss.”

She smiled, gave me a peck on the cheek and left. “By the way,” she called back. “I’m going to be one of Sandra’s bridesmaids.” She giggled and left, leaving me staring after her in shock. Was she teasing me? Was she simply suggesting? Or had she and Sandra already agreed to it? Maybe this was something they had agreed on when they had spoken privately after Mrs Clarke had broken the news to Sandra. “Oh hell,” I muttered. “Mind you,” I thought. “It would be convenient.”

I wore a pair of Marion Crisp’s that day. She was probably a size larger than me, and the soft knickers I chose would be gentle against my sore cock. That reminded me. I got one of the DVDs and put it in the computer.

There was a spreadsheet with some accounts. A photograph of a cheque. More than one. Some other documents of a type that I didn’t recognise and neither did my computer, and a couple of short videos.

I gasped. The video showed Mrs Crisp having sex with a man I didn’t recognise. She was dressed up to the nines and fully made up. The room looked very soft a frilly as well. It didn’t seem much like the bedroom I had seen.

I found a second disc. The man was different, as was the details on the cheques and the accounts. After a third and then a fourth I began to realise that Mrs Crisp had been a prostitute. Well. A high class one. A very posh one. Not a cheap hooker but a high class courtesan.

The video clips lasted between ten and forty minutes and after about six or seven discs, I had to switch off. My cock was far too sore to wank. I did however realise that the different sizes of knickers she’d had was because some, possibly a lot, had been gifts. Gifts from men who hadn’t known her size, had just guessed or assumed.

I put the ones I had watched to one side. Would I throw them? I don’t know, maybe. Would I watch any of the others? Probably.

Sandra had told Tee, of course, and before I could tell either of them to say nothing to anyone else, Tee had already told Bondy and Blish. Once Blish was in the know, Higgis had to know. But there, fortunately, the news stayed. Sandra hadn’t worn her engagement ring to school. That would have been silly and likely very dangerous, but apparently she wore it at all other times, regardless, and when she wasn’t wearing it on her finger, it was in a specially designed heart shaped locket around her neck.

As it turned out, Amber wasn’t CAPed, so the party was actually only about a dozen people. Talulah finally found out that we were all conspiring behind her back to try and rescue her and her sister. At first she was furious and tried to storm off calling us traitors and screaming at us in fury and anger. There was probably also a lot of fear, but after Sandra and Mrs Clarke had spoken to her for a while she burst into tears and finally came and thanked us all, apologising for her tantrum. We forgave her absolutely. It was also the first time that Blish and Higgis found out about Talulah’s home life.

“I have to tell my mum,” Blish said. “Technically, if I don’t, I’m breaking the law.”

We all prevailed upon him not to, and grudgingly he agreed. Now that Tee was in the loop though, it made everything so much easier. I still hadn’t spoken to Neeka, but Tee thought she would be a good match for me, and at the same time realised that I still needed two more people. She didn’t know about Mrs Clarke, of course, no one did apart from Sandra. Most people, if they thought of it at all, assumed Mrs Clarke was going with people outside of the school.

I found and approached Neeka the following day.

She looked at me shyly,

“Why me?” she asked softly.

“Why not?”

“You don’t know me.”

“No, but people I trust know you, and they all say you would be good for me.”

“But would you be good for me?”

I smiled. “I’m afraid I can’t answer that one.”

“Who said I was the one for you?”

“Do you know Sandra Walmsley?” She shook her head. “Talulah Evans?”

Neeka’s eyes went wide. “Talulah Evans said I was right for you?” I nodded. “But you’re a friend of hers.”

“That’s right.”

“But she doesn’t like me.”

I frowned. “Why do you say that?”

“She just doesn’t. She blanks me every time I try and talk to her.”

I waved that off. “Oh that doesn’t mean she doesn’t like you. That just means she’s in one of her stuck up moods, that she’s being a cow. She’s not always like that.” I pondered. “Come and talk to me at lunchtime. I’ll be with Sandra and Tee and one or two other guys.”

She frowned slightly. “Maybe,” she whispered and wandered off, looking determinedly at the floor.

I turned and almost crashed into Margot Keller.

“Were you asking that harlot out?” she demanded.

“Who? Neeka?” I laughed. “I’m going out with someone else. No, someone told me that Neeka was looking for some help with her maths.”

I was lucky that Margot wasn’t doing maths, otherwise she might have heard some of the rumours about my own supposed lack of ability. She was in my chemistry group however.

“In any case, why do you care?” I asked.

She looked at me for a moment. “Well?” she asked softly.

I was puzzled. “What?”

She frowned. “Ask me out.”

“No.”

“What?”

“I’m already going out with someone.”

“Who?”

I smiled. “Not you.”

I turned and walked away. “You will be,” I heard her call. “You’re mine.”

I stopped and turned to her. “Why?”

She stared at me. “Because you need a head concubine and I’m the best there is.”

I shook my head. “I’ve already got my head concubine, and my second, and probably my third. First I wouldn’t take you, but second, even if I did, you’d be number four.”

“Who are they?” she demanded. “I bet I can push them down so that I’m number one.”

I laughed. “Not a fucking chance.”

She gasped at my crudeness and went pale with anger. “You’ll see,” she said harshly. “I reckon you ain’t got anyone.”

“What makes you think that?”

She paused and stared at me speculatively. “Neeka’s a fuckin’ black. Even you’re not dumb enough to go out with a nigger.”

“I could report you for that,” I said coldly. “You’re right in one sense only. She hasn’t agreed to come with me, but in every other sense you are wrong. I have asked her, and if she does come with me I’ll think I am lucky. She’s pretty, she’s nice and she’s clever.”

“Fuckin’,” she paused, and I heard her mutter something under her breath. “She won’t be coming with you when I tell some people I know. They’ll make sure of that. You wouldn’t want her after they’ve done with her.”

“And you think I’d want you after what you’ve just said? You really do live in cloud-cuckoo land.”

“When I pass the word that you want to take a ... a ... a... , that you want to take her, no one will want to come with you.”

I just shook my head. “I already have two, and both of them have said she would be fine.”

“Who? I don’t believe you.”

“Not telling you.”

She looked at me speculatively. “Even you’re not stupid enough to take Sandra Walmsley. Everyone knows she and Talulah Evans are having an affair.”

I just shook my head and rolled my eyes.

“People say she’s going out with you, but that’s just cover. What’s she paying you to say you and she are together?”

A bell went off in my head. I sighed. “I bet,” I said slowly, “you are one of the girls that attacked Sandra in the showers in year eleven.” I frowned. “Weren’t you a friend of Marcie’s? Marcie Tremlow?”

Margot’s face went heavy with anger and she turned on her heel and strode off. “Fuck,” I muttered softly.

I told Tee and Sandra what had just happened, and later, when I got the chance, Mrs Clarke. Tee’s face went cold with fury. “She’s trashed.”

“Be careful,” I murmured. Tee just turned her glare on me full force. It really was quite a terrifying glare and I could almost feel myself wilting under the force of it. Her face quickly softened and she gave me a wink. “I know exactly how to do it,” she said calmly. I had been holding tightly onto Sandra’s hand throughout. She had a look of utter misery on her face, one that even Tee’s promise to trash Margot didn’t alleviate.

“Does Tee know?” I whispered. Sandra just nodded.

“What Margot said about you and Tee. I know that’s not true, but have you?”

There was a brief pause, then Sandra nodded. “A few times. But it was comfort sex for both of us. We’re not in love and we’re not lesbian.”

“As long as you both enjoyed it and neither of you was forced, then that’s okay by me.”

She looked at me. “You mean that?”

“Of course I do.”

She smiled sadly. “Thank you babe.”

“You do realise,” I said with a sly grin, “that when we are all up there,” I pointed discreetly upwards, “you and erm you know who, will be in the same bed.”

She smiled a bit uncertainly, but added, “and Neeka?”

“And maybe Neeka. She hasn’t said yes yet, but she hasn’t said no either.”

When I told Mrs Clarke about Margot, she just nodded, “She’s out totally. Not even in an emergency will I allow her to come with us. Leave it with me.”

“Thank you Miss.”

The following Monday Neeka told me she would come with me. I had half expected her to name a couple of conditions, but she didn’t. I now had three of my four. Neeka began joining our little group occasionally, though she was still on the outside as far as both Tee’s situation, and Mrs Clarke’s situation were concerned. To everyone apart from Sandra, I was still looking for two more people. Neeka soon realised I had told her the truth about Tee, and she quickly became a friend of all of us. Tee let it be known that Neeka was her friend, implicitly protecting her from certain other people.

By the end of that week Margot Keller was already starting to become an outcast throughout the school. No one wanted to admit to being her friend; no one wanted to work with her in class. Worse, the following Monday she began to get the cold shoulder on the Rugby field. There were two huge black girls playing rugby, and as the guys sat and watched the girls playing, waiting for our turn, we could see them eyeing Margot hungrily. At this point Margot was still very secure in her superiority and didn’t notice. It wasn’t pretty.

I hated Mr Miley, but I was highly amused when he put all three of them on the front row of their respective teams. Margot as the hooker on one team, the two black girls as hooker and tight-head prop on the other. After the first scrum Margot came out looking a bit shocked, but otherwise unharmed and still secure in her own beliefs. After the second she looked more flustered, but still not overly worried. After the fourth or fifth she started to look like a broken girl.

Seemingly oblivious, Mr Miley reformed the teams so that Margot was now the scrum half. At first she looked relieved, but then she found out that one of the black girls was to be her opposite number on the other team. A minute later Margot went down under a pile of girls in a big tackle. I’m sure I don’t need to tell you which were the two girls immediately on top of her. Moments later she was being stretchered off complaining that her back was in severe pain. A later x-ray and scan showed that in fact there was only superficial bruising, but Margot had run away, and she, and everyone else, knew it.

The teachers treated her exactly as they always had, exactly as they treated every pupil, but I was certain they were in the know. The one time I came across Margot a few days later she looked at me with hurt and reproach in her eyes. But there was also fear and maybe a little hatred as well. Neither of us spoke.