Chapter 6

The following day was the first day back at school for the second half of the autumn term. I was, for once, actually glad to be back at school. Even if it was a double period of General Studies first thing. Ugh! And games last thing. Double ugh.

I was very disappointed when Mrs Clarke wasn’t in maths. As were a number of the others. Particularly the males. To my slight surprise, and worry, Bondy wasn’t in either. I did start to wonder whether he’d been collected, and taken Mrs Clarke with him. But that didn’t make a lot of sense because Talulah had been in GS that morning and I didn’t think Mrs Clarke would just abandon her.

Talulah and Sandra, along with Higgis and Blish joined me for lunch. Higgis had been in maths, and Blish was in my form group, so in the same GS as Talulah and myself. We speculated idly about both Bondy and Mrs Clarke being absent, but came to no sensible conclusions.

“What do you folks do in games?” Blish asked.

“Rugby,” I grumbled. “I’d far rather do cross-country or swimming.”

“I wish I was doing rugby,” Blish said. “I’m doing hockey and I’ve been hit in the face already by a hockey ball.”

“And nearly in the balls by a hockey stick,” laughed Higgis.

“You doing hockey as well then?” I asked him.

He nodded. “Love it. No good at it.”

We all chuckled.

Both Sandra and Talulah were doing netball and both were perfectly happy.

“Anybody know what Bondy does?” I enquired. “It’s not rugby.”

“Footy,” Talulah said. “He’s actually quite good at it and he’s got into the school second team. He found out just before the hols.”

“Ah nice. I don’t actually like football. Can’t even stand watching it, but I’d rather play that than Rugby.”

“You hate rugby as well?”

I shook my head. “I love watching it. As long as it’s union, not league. But don’t want to play it.”

I found out then that Higgis and his family were from Yorkshire. “Nah,” he said. “League’s far better. More running. Less stoppages,”

“Except,” I butted in, “for those silly restarts every six seconds. You know, the ones after those mock tackles.” I grinned at him. “That’s just plain boring. Silly little scrums with what, just three players? Nah. You need a full eight-man scrum plus line outs, rucks and mauls to make it more interesting. League is more like tag rugby.”

The pair of us argued for about fifteen minutes, all, well mostly, in good humour, about the relative merits of the two versions of rugby. Union was the older code, and had initially been entirely amateur. League had been a fully professional game right from the start, but it had mostly been limited to Lancashire and Yorkshire. Over time some of the union players had defected to league, attracted by the salaries. Anyone who transferred to league, was instantly banned forever from playing union, but with the serious amounts of money floating around, and something which the press called shamateurism, in the mid 1990’s the international board decided to make union an open game. In other words, they allowed professionals.

The two games were actually very different, and it was not very common for players to transfer between the codes. I preferred watching Rugby Union, the fifteen-man game, but I could certainly see the attraction in the thirteen-man Rugby League game. It just wasn’t as interesting to me. Higgis thought differently.

We were actually playing rugby sevens, which was a seven-a-side version of the fifteen-man game. To my amusement Higgis actually thought it a brilliant game. “Even if it is based on Union it has more akin to League. And you do know,” he added slightly pompously, “that American football is based on Rugby League. Their ten yards in four downs bit is very loosely based on our six plays.”

I was actually under the impression American football was a bit older than that, and more based on a modified version of Rugby Union, and that League had got their ideas from that. I told him this and our friendly discussion once again evolved into an only marginally less friendly argument.

“Rugby for wimps,” Blish muttered into Sandra’s ear, referring to American football.

We all heard and laughed. “Yeah. They need to wear battle armour,” Sandra whispered through her laughter. “At least we don’t.”

“That’s because they cheat. They’re allowed to tackle a man without the ball.” That was a definite no-no in both rugby codes. This comparison was a lot hampered simply by the fact that none of us knew a great deal about the American game. Despite this however, we all decided that rugby, in whatever form, was far superior.

Lunch break was over shortly afterwards, and Blish and I headed off to physics, while the others went to whatever they were doing next. “Have you heard from Bondy?”

Blish shook his head and joined the group of students he normally sat and worked with. I joined my group and we chatted about the holidays while we waited for the teacher.

Bondy was in school the following morning, with his left hand in a cast. We all crowded around him before first class to find out what he had done, but at one point, when he had accidentally got shoved and cried out in pain, Talulah, who had been standing next to him, turned on everyone.

“Piss off the lot of you,” she said angrily. “You’ll all find out when he’s good and ready to tell you.” She saw me and grabbed my arm. “You stay.”

The crowd did disperse, no one wanted to be on the wrong side of Talulah, and soon it was just Talulah and Sandra, Bondy and myself. Even Blish and Higgis had vanished, though I was sure I had seen Blish in the crowd.

“So go on, give us the official version, and we’ll make sure that’s what gets around,” Talulah said imperiously. There was an impish glint of humour in her eyes.

“There is no ‘official’ version,” Bondy gasped, still a little grey from the pain of the shoving.

“You should go home,” Sandra told him, her eyes narrowing as she frowned at him, looking intently at him.

“I can’t. I have to be here today, or in hospital. Things happening at home. I might stay home tomorrow if I can.”

“Have you got any pain killers?”

“I’ve got co-codamol, but I’ve already had one dose today so I can’t have any more until lunch time.”

“What lessons do you have today?”

“He’s in phys prac with me now,” I told them.

“After that?” Sandra asked.

“Er. Double German after break,” Bondy told us, “then after lunch French, PE and maths.” I remembered now. Bondy had a mostly similar timetable as me, just substituting German for tech drawing, and French for chemistry. We had the same PE, general studies, maths and physics.

“So what happened?” I asked.

“I was riding pillion on Dad’s motor bike. Some arse came out of a side road and almost took us out, but in the process Dad had to swerve. I fell off because I wasn’t ready for it. I landed on the bonnet of the other car and tore a tendon in my wrist when I fell off.”

“Oh shit. Your dad okay?”

“The bike never got touched, and if I hadn’t come off I suspect the car driver wouldn’t have even realised he’d nearly hit us.”

“When was this?”

“Sunday evening, I didn’t get out of hospital until four Monday morning and Mum and Dad both said I could stay home yesterday.”

“Don’t blame you mate. What’s happening to the car driver?”

“He’s claiming it’s all Dad’s fault because he never touched us and only his car got damaged.”

“But if he pulled out of a side street and caused your dad to have to swerve, then surely it’s his fault?”

“Yeah, but he reckons that’s not what happened, and his passengers back him up.”

“What are they saying?”

“Not sure exactly, but they are saying it’s all our fault, and if we don’t pay up they’ll come and sort us out.”

“Did the police get involved?” asked Talulah.

“They should have been called because I was hurt, but when Dad tried to call them they just threatened us.”

“Shit, so what happened then?”

“Well someone else called an ambulance, and I suspect the ambulance service notified the police because it was an RTI.”

“RTI?” asked Sandra.

“Road Traffic Incident,” Bondy told her.

We all nodded. “So the police did turn up?”

“Yeah. Eventually. After the ambulance. The car driver and his mates were threatening the paramedics as well, but Dad still manages to look fairly fierce when he’s in his leathers and helmet, so he, sort of, kept them from doing something too stupid. When the police finally did show up most of the car passengers made themselves scarce.”

“Probably wanted by the police,” I said.

Bondy just nodded, but said nothing.

Although it was a physics practical lesson first, and a double lesson at that, Bondy had no problems as he was right-handed and it was his left hand in plaster. We did no practical that day, just theory, so sitting and listening and writing as the teacher gave out information.

The four of us met up again at lunch time. I couldn’t help looking at Sandra as she fussed a little around Bondy, making sure he was okay and got his food. That’s when I noticed just how pretty she really was. She wasn’t as pretty as Talulah was, I suppose, but then Talulah was, to a certain extent, brash about her looks, and extremely outgoing. Sandra on the other hand was far more introverted, had a much more understated beauty. One that, now I looked, I realised was, in its own way, at least as beautiful as Talulah. I genuinely wondered how many people had noticed. By staying in Talulah’s shadow so much, plus with her dark goth makeup and spiky hair, people rarely actually looked at her. Her makeup and dress-style hid some of her beauty. Now I was looking, and I saw and was quietly impressed.

Mrs Clarke wasn’t seen all week, and the rumours and myths did the rounds. We all knew about the Confederacy collections, and everyone assumed she had been taken. On Thursday however, the teacher taking us for maths first thing told us Mrs Clarke would be back in on the following Monday. Naturally the rumours all changed, but still, amongst the boys at least, some of those rumours were well into the gutter.

I had worn a different pair of knickers every night, plus during the day on Wednesday and Friday, the only days I didn’t do either games or PE. By Wednesday lunchtime I had to take that pair off and go commando for the rest of the day. From that day on, if I was to be going out wearing a ‘new’ pair of knickers I wasn’t sure about, I made sure that I could actually wear it without pain first.

I hated going home each evening. I couldn’t tell anyone about my home life: I was under eighteen and I suspected I would be ‘taken into care’ if the social services found out. Dumped with some foster parent? Not a chance. I wanted to stay in my own home. But I missed my parents. I slept in Mum and Dad’s bed Thursday night, but their scent had mostly gone by now. I missed them dreadfully.

At lunch on Friday I was sitting next to Sandra. Bondy hadn’t been in Wednesday or Thursday so it had been just the two girls, Blish and Higgis, and myself. Come Friday however, Bondy was back, still in plaster, but looking far more normal. I was chatting with Sandra as Bondy was chatting with Talulah. Blish and Higgis were not with us.

“Will you go out with me tomorrow?” I asked her softly.

She looked at me in surprise for a moment, then her face softened. She gave me a small smile that just lit up her face and took my breath away. “Maybe.”

“But,” I started.

“I’ll tell you at afternoon break,” she said softly.

“Thank you,” I whispered.

“I haven’t said yes yet.”

“But you also didn’t say no straight away. That alone is worth a thank you.”

Her smile got a little wider. “I like you,” she said. “You and Bondy have been really good for Tee.” Amongst her very closest friends, Talulah was known as Tee.

“Thank you,” I said. “She needed to know she’s, erm, well, safe? I’m glad she’s had you as a friend anyway.”

“I don’t really know how to help her, I just muddled through.”

“I think you did everything exactly right. You stayed her close friend. You stayed a true friend. You did tell Mrs Clarke, and she’s trying to put plans in motion to save both her and her sister.” I shrugged. “You accepted us. We got to show her, I hope, that most males are not monsters.”

Sandra’s smile went a bit sad. Oh shit, I thought. I frowned. “Are you okay?”

“Yeah. I’m okay.” She looked at me intently for a few moments. “Yeah, alright, I’ll go out with you.”

I grinned in delight. “Thank you. Shall I come and pick you up? I don’t drive or anything.”

She shook her head. “It’d be better if I meet you in town somewhere.”

“Where’s best for you?”

She grinned. “Where do you want to take me?”

I shrugged. “I don’t really know. Is there anything on at the pics you fancy?”

She shook her head. “Not going to the cinema,” she said flatly. “There’s an art gallery just around the corner from there that I love going into.”

I nodded. I knew of it but I’d never been in. “Okay. What time?”

“Two?”

“Sure.” I smiled at her. “Thank you.”

The really bizarre thing was that I had not planned on asking her out, it had just happened. Now it had I was happier than I had been for a little while. I put my hand out to take hers but she gave a tiny shake of the head and pulled her hand away. “Not now,” she whispered.

“Oh, okay.”

Friday afternoon was one of the harder times of the week, with chemistry, then maths and finally physics. Yet even this couldn’t totally dampen my happiness.

I was up reasonably early on Saturday morning. The first thing I did, after showering and dressing - a pair of Pauline Lipp’s knickers, was to quickly get a wash load on. Mum normally did two during the week, and two at weekends, plus sometimes another odd one or two depending on what was happening. I hadn’t done any during the week, so I was still a long way behind on the clothes that should be going to charity, as well as on my own stuff.

I met Sandra and we had a lovely afternoon together. She was nowhere near as heavily made up as she usually was at school, and looked totally different. Even her clothes were toned down somewhat. She was wearing trainers and jeans instead of the boots, skirts and sometimes leggings she normally wore. It really softened her down and made her look so much more feminine. Yet I still liked how she dressed and made herself up for school. It was a lovely contrast. After wandering around the art gallery for about an hour, we left and went and sat in a local coffee bar. Not one of the big chains. “My parents think I’m with a couple of girlfriends,” Sandra told me as we sat down with a couple of americano’s.” They won’t let me go out with a boy at the moment.”

“Why?”

She shrugged. “Various reasons I guess. Boys taking advantage. You know.”

I didn’t really ‘know’ but I did sort of understand. “Okay.”

“What do your parents think you’re doing?”

I looked down at the table and wondered what they were doing. “Dunno,” I said shrugging. “I didn’t tell them I was going out and meeting someone.”

“They think you’re on your own?”

“Haven’t told them anything. They don’t know where I am. Doubt they’re even thinking about me.” I didn’t know that, though I suspected both my parents were thinking about me, and worrying somewhat, but not often and only when they got the chance.

“That’s not good. You should tell them.”

“I know. I will if I get the chance.” I tried to change the subject. “Do you and Talulah manage to go out much?”

Sandra smiled slightly, acknowledging my change of subject. “Sometimes, and only after her dad has checked with mine that there are no boys involved.”

“Your dad isn’t.” I started, but Sandra interrupted me before I had got very far.

“God no. Nothing like that. My dad’s really nice. And my mum. No they’re just worried for me after something happened to my older sister.”

I hadn’t even realised she’d had an older sister. “Oh?”

Sandra just shook her head, a look of infinite sadness on her face.

“Was she raped or something?” I asked very softly.

Sandra shook her head and looked down at the table. I took her hand. “I’m sorry,” I said. “Forget I asked. It’s none of my business.”

Sandra looked up. “Georgie was being bullied at school because she was a real swot. She was clever, but she wasn’t really good looking. Not like Tee.”

“Or you,” I whispered.

She ignored me. “Because of that she didn’t have many friends. Some of the boys were really cruel to her. I mean really cruel. Said she was ugly. She committed suicide when she was fourteen.”

“Oh hell fire,” I whispered softly. “I’m so sorry. I shouldn’t have asked. How old were you?”

“I was eleven and I loved her. I really looked up to her. She was so good, so lovely. So clever.”

“Oh no. Does anyone else know?”

Sandra shrugged. “It’s not a real secret. Most people at school know.”

“I didn’t. I’m sure Bondy doesn’t.”

“Tee does.”

“But you have to be strong for her. Who’s strong for you?”

“Tee helps me at least as much as I help her.”

“Let me be strong for you,” I said softly, still holding her hand. She looked up at me, studying me. We were sitting on opposite sides of the table but she suddenly moved round next to me and hugged me.

“Thank you.” She looked around, then at her watch. “Come on, let’s go for a walk.”

It was early November with bonfire night a couple of days away. Most people would have theirs tonight, but for once I wouldn’t. It was sunny but cold and we held hands as we wandered slowly up the high street. We didn’t talk much; I just enjoyed being in her company.

We eventually made our way back to the bus station and went into the attached coffee shop to wait for our respective buses. It wasn’t as nice as the first one we had been in.

“Thank you for a lovely day,” I told her.

“No, thank you,” she said, and gave me another hug. To my surprise she even gave me a kiss on the cheek. I smiled softly and picked up her hand and kissed it. She blushed a little.

“Are you free tomorrow?”

She looked surprised. “Are you sure?”

“I’ve never been more sure of anything.”

Her surprise turned to pleasure and happiness, but that quickly changed to regret.

“I can’t. I’m doing family stuff with my parents tomorrow.”

“Okay,” I said, very disappointed.

“I want to come out with you more than anything, but,” she shrugged.

I nodded. “I know. I’ll see you Monday anyway.” I paused. “Do you have a mobile?”

She nodded and rattled off the number. I laughed and took my phone out of my pocket. She took it off me and quickly typed in her number. Her own phone rang moments later. “Now I have your number as well. Text me first though. Especially if you know, or think, I might be with my mum or dad.”

I nodded. “No worries. Except when we’re at school, you can text me anytime.”

“Won’t your parents mind?”

“I don’t know. They might if we’re all sitting down to a meal, but when that happens, I’ll just ignore you until I can respond later.” I hadn’t told a lie. Not directly. I just didn’t want to tell her I was on my own at home.

She nodded then looked up as another bus swept into the small area. “This is mine.”

“That’s mine right behind yours,” I said as a second bus came in, slightly slower.

She laughed and reached up and gave me a peck on the lips. I was shocked, but her soft lips on mine, even for that fraction of a second, had felt wonderful.

When I got home there was a strange car parked on the drive. I didn’t recognise it and approached slowly.

The door opened and I started to back away, until I saw it was Mrs Clarke.

“Toby” she said, relief very evident in her face. “Where’ve you been? I’m so sorry. I didn’t find out until this morning.”

“What?”

“Invite me in. Please?”

“Uh. Sure.” I unlocked the door and took her straight into the living room. The dining room had a pile of knickers in while I hadn’t done any washing up this week so the kitchen was a mess also. The living room however I had kept spotlessly tidy. It had just seemed the right thing to do.”

“I’m sorry, my parents,”

She interrupted me. “It’s okay Toby. I know what’s happened to your parents and to your sister. Your father phoned me, but I wasn’t home so he left a message on my answerphone.” She looked sad. What was it with sad women at the moment. My three favourite women on Earth, Talulah, Sandra and now Mrs Clarke were all sad.

“My Father died the first Sunday of the half term holidays so I was back home in Manchester with my mother. His funeral was on Wednesday so I didn’t get home until late last night.

“Oh I am sorry,” I said, automatically.

She gave a sad smile. “Thank you but it was expected. He’s been, he’d been ill for a long time.”

“Would you like a cup of tea or coffee?” Actually I suddenly wasn’t sure whether we even had coffee. Mum and Dad drank it only occasionally, but I didn’t.

“A cup of tea would be lovely.”

“Milk and sugar?”

“Milk no sugar.”

I nodded and went out to the kitchen. While waiting for the kettle to boil, I quickly loaded the dishwasher stuffing as much into it as I could, more to hide the stuff than to wash it. I’d sort it out again after Mrs Clarke had left.

“Your father asked me to look in on you and make sure you were okay,” she told me once I had returned with two mugs of tea.

I looked at her. She was dressed right down in jeans and a jersey. She looked even sexier than ever, and still very pretty. “Oh. I’ve managed.”

She smiled. “That sounded lame. You have managed, but it’s not been easy has it?”

I shook my head. Now I was miserable and upset. “I miss them so much,” I whispered.

She nodded. “I can understand that. I miss my dad, but his dementia took him away from me six years ago, so his dying wasn’t the shock it might have been. Did you get a chance to say goodbye?”

I nodded.

“Good,” she said softly. She handed me a card. “If there’s anything you need. Anything at all. Help with something around the house, whatever, give me a ring. Don’t say anything in school.” She paused. “Does anyone else know?”

I shook my head.

“Okay. I’m surprised you didn’t tell your little cadre.”

“Cadre?”

“Talulah, Sandra, Bond.”

“Oh. It just didn’t seem right. I was worried I might get taken away. Put into care.”

Mrs Clarke smiled. “Well that’s why I’m here. If you want you can come and live with me.”

I looked at her startled. “Oh.”

She laughed. “Well don’t sound so enthusiastic.”

“I was just surprised.”

Her amusement died. “I don’t actually think it would be a good idea, not yet. Not unless people, officialdom, find out. And I suspect, just at this moment anyway, you don’t want to. Is that right?”

I frowned. “Why do you say that?”

She shook her head. “Just an impression I got.”

“Oh. Well. For now anyway,” I started.

She gave me a strange little smile. “I’ll come round and visit once or twice a week. Is Wednesday evening okay for the next one?”

I nodded.

“Good. I’ll see you then.”

She put down her half finished mug of tea and stood. I stood with her. She looked at me for a moment then gave me a hug. “I’m sorry I wasn’t able to help you before now,” she whispered.

She let go of me, to my intense relief as I was starting to get an erection, and I didn’t want her to know about it. I may have started to get feelings for Sandra, but I was still desperately in love with Mrs Clarke.

Sunday was both quiet and busy. I picked up the bunches of labelled keys, sorted out the addresses on the map, and decided which one I would raid next.

The name on the label wasn’t one I recognised, but when I got there I found some photographs, and from that worked out that two of the women had lived here. The photos around the place showed another man, but I was as convinced as I could be that he hadn’t been part of the collection. When I realised that I almost fled, in case he reappeared, but then I remembered that there had been a small pile of mail by the front door and relaxed again.

I had come better prepared this time, with suitable bags and the like. I found twenty-seven pairs of knickers. Actually I found more but removed about a dozen that I didn’t want to take. I also took a complete camera kit, a very expensive and modern camera in a good quality camera case, plus the small amount of jewellery and money that I found lying around. Practically everything in the fridge was either close to or way beyond its use by date, or just didn’t look edible. Most of it I threw into the outside bin. I didn’t find anything of particular value in the cupboards either.

I returned home and spent ages cleaning, tidying and washing, but apart from a couple of fairly neutral text messages to and from Sandra, didn’t see or talk to anyone. In fact I only left the house again to put washing on the line. It wasn’t raining, but it was windy and I hoped that would be enough. It was, just. That evening I put the camera kit up on one of the auction sites. By the end of the week I was almost three-thousand quid better off.

Talulah looked a little grey when I saw her first thing Monday morning. “You okay?” I whispered. She shook her head slightly. “What’s up?”

At that moment Sandra came up and gave Talulah a huge hug. Sandra looked at me and shook her head. I left them to it, intercepting Bondy. At morning break, after a double general studies, Talulah told us what had happened. Sandra obviously knew. I guessed Talulah had texted her or something.

“Amber had her fourteenth birthday on Friday. Dad wanted her. Would have had her if I hadn’t stopped him.”

“Oh shit,” Bondy whispered. “You okay?”

She shook her head. “I had to seduce him. I had to keep him with me all weekend. About eight or nine times. I lost count.”

“Oh fuck. Did Amber find out?”

Talulah shook her head. “No, thank goodness, but it was a close run thing.”

I tried to imagine what it must have been like for her, but couldn’t even get close. I hadn’t a clue what her father looked like, but I pictured a small, fat, lank haired man with a greasy comb-over straining away on top of her. The thought made me feel physically sick.

I don’t know what the others thought, but I could see they also felt a little sick.

“It’s not your fault,” I whispered, giving her a quick hug. Sandra was still hugging her, so I took brief hold of Sandra’s hand as I did so. “Just remember, he’s the once forcing you. You aren’t forcing him. You aren’t to blame.”

She shook her head. “But I was this weekend, I seduced him.” She was sobbing gently now. Sandra held her tighter.

“That wasn’t your fault beautiful lady,” Bondy told her, taking one hand. “That was your father’s doing. He forced you to do it to protect your sister.”

“But,” she started.

“You were forced into it,” I said gently but forcefully. I took her other hand. “You knew if you didn’t do it he would hurt your sister. He knew you would do it just to protect her. It was psychological force, but it was still force.”

“I feel so dirty.”

We just held her. “It’s not your fault. You are not to blame. Your father is the one to blame. It’s his fault, not yours,” whispered Sandra, over and over into her ear.

By the end of break Talulah was superficially back to her normal self. The three of us could see, however, that she was still in a brittle state. I headed to maths, along with Bondy.

“Need to talk to you about Talulah Evans,” I told Mrs Clarke, quickly, quietly, as we all filed out of maths class forty-five minutes later.

“Come find me just before one,” she told me. “I’ll be in the staff room waiting for you.”

“Ten to?”

She nodded. “Ten to one.”

Mrs Clarke nodded when I told her what Talulah had told us. “Sandra’s already told me that Talulah had it particularly bad over the weekend, but thank you for filling in the details.” She sighed. “I think we’re going to need to get Amber CAP tested fairly urgently. I’ve managed to find one more sponsor, but I still need a tenth before I can formally call for an extraction. If Amber gets that tenth,” she sighed and broke off. “All right, thanks Toby. Off you go.”

While the girls’ rugby session was on that afternoon, I wandered over to the netball courts which weren’t actually that far away. I didn’t spot either Sandra or Talulah. I watched for a few minutes hoping to catch sight of one or the other, but was soon shooed away by one of the netball teachers. Only girls played netball, so the teachers didn’t really like the guys hanging around there.

By the time Wednesday evening arrived, and Mrs Clarke turned up to see me at home, I had managed to completely clean the downstairs. My room was a pigsty, as was the spare room, but everywhere else was clean and neat. I didn’t feel so worried if she wanted to snoop and see how I was coping.

She did, and wanted to go into my room, but didn’t press it when I said I’d rather she didn’t. “Not this time,” I told her. She just nodded. Once the cleanliness inspection was over, which included checking the laundry basket, she started on a dietary inspection, seeing what was in the fridge, the freezer, and the cupboards.

“You need some more vegetables, greens or salads, and some more fresh fruit,” she told me sternly.

“Yes Miss.” She gave me brief smile.

“Everything else looks fine.” She watched me make her a cup of tea and nodded in satisfaction. When I tried to take her through into the living room though, she shook her head and instead sat on one of the breakfast bar stools. She waved me to another. Apart from the time she had hugged me, I think I was now physically closer to her than I had ever been.

“Have you thought about your concubine selection?” she asked me.

I shook my head. “Not really. I know I’d love to take Sandra, and I still very much want to take you. After that,” I shrugged. “Haven’t thought about it.”

She nodded slowly.

“Well, I do have one suggestion for you. There’s a little Asian girl, Indian I think, in the lower sixth, year twelve. Neeka. I think she would be very good for you. I’ve spoken to a number of the younger girls, only in general terms, and,” she smiled slightly, “Bondy’s sister Selena wouldn’t really be a suitable fit for you, but wouldn’t be a total disaster. Amber, assuming she ends up a concubine, which I believe she probably would if she were to take her CAP today, would be better off going with Adam or maybe with Bondy.”

I frowned. “Adam?”

She looked at me in surprise. “Mr Blish?”

“Oh god,” I chuckled. “I don’t think I ever knew his name.”

Mrs Clarke just shook her head in mock despair. “Well. Miss Walmsley is in a bit of a bind. I spoke with her yesterday after school. She thinks she needs to go with Miss Evans, but she wants to go with someone else. She wouldn’t tell me who.”

“Oh.”

Mrs Clarke looked at me closely. “Have you asked her to go with you?” she asked, frowning slightly.

“Er. No. Should I, do you think?”

Mrs Clarke sat in thought for a long while, staring at me. “What do you think of her?”

“I like her.”

Mrs Clarke nodded slowly. “I wonder,” she murmured. She looked at me and smiled slightly. “I won’t tell you not to ask her, but I also won’t tell you to ask her. At this moment I’m in two minds. If you don’t ask her and it’s you she’s thinking of, she may get depressed, annoyed, upset. She knows you can take four, she also thinks you haven’t chosen anyone. If it’s not you and you do ask her, she may tell you who she’s thinking of, but she may also get a bit upset with you, and you may end up not being able to help Talulah as much.”

“Probably best not to ask just for the moment,” I said.

“Mmm. Maybe. I’ll think about it. I might have another talk with her on Friday.”

“Okay.”

“Are you gonna be okay for another couple of days?”

“Yeah. Sure.”

“All right. How about Saturday?”

“What?”

She smiled at my confusion. “Next inspection. Saturday.”

“Oh. Erm.” I wanted to ask Sandra out again. Saturday was always going to be the best day. “Early?”

“How early?”

“Before lunch?”

“Ah. You have a date after lunch?”

“No! Date? No, not a date.”

She laughed. “I didn’t mean that sort of date. I meant, you have something planned.”

“Er. Oh. Yes. I think so.”

“How about Sunday morning instead? Saturday morning isn’t that convenient for me.”

I nodded. “Okay. Nine?”

She laughed. “If you think, young man, that I’m awake enough to get here for nine on a Sunday, you have another think coming. Ten-thirty or even eleven will do me fine. It’s not going to be for long.”

I smiled and nodded. “Eleven is fine.”

“Will you go out with me again this Saturday?” I asked Sandra the first chance I got the following morning. She looked at me and her face broke out into a wonderful smile. “Same place same time?”

I nodded.

“Yes.” Her smile instantly vanished, but her eyes still had a sparkle to them. I didn’t know, but I now had a pretty good inkling of who she was hoping would ask her.

Once again, come Saturday, she was dressed and made up rather more naturally than she ever was at school. She was wearing boots rather than trainers, but they weren’t the aggressively spiky ones she usually wore to school. We did go the cinema that day: it was raining too hard to spend time wandering around the town centre, and the only indoor shopping centre was small and unexciting. We held hands for the entire film. A few times I caught her looking at me, she blushed the first few times and turned her head quickly away, but after the fourth or fifth she continued to look at me as I looked at her. She started to lean towards me and I knew we were about to kiss. It was very fumbled. I know I had never kissed before, I don’t know whether she had. I didn’t care though; it was my first ever real kiss.

We were in the middle of the auditorium so we couldn’t just make out. Plus I was wearing a pair of very sexy red lace knickers and I didn’t want her to find out if things got a bit out of hand. Once out we went and sat in the coffee shop we had sat in the previous week. It was nice, informal, not too busy, but not so quiet we stood out, either. I don’t know how long we talked, nor, afterwards, could I remember much of what we talked about, I just remember being very content. We were only interrupted when her mobile went off.

She looked at it. “Oh shit, I’m late.”

She answered it. “Hi Mum. Sorry. I am on my way, it’s just that I missed the bus ... no I’m in the bus station now ... er hang on, I’m not sure.”

She hung up, a panicked look in her eyes. “Quick. We need to get to the bus station now.”

I nodded. We had paid for our drinks already, so we just left and ran as fast as we could.

“Time table,” I pointed as we dashed into the bus station.

She nodded and swerved towards it.

“What number?” I called.

“One-oh-six.”

“Er. There’s one in.”

“What? Oh.” She changed direction again and ran towards it. Hopping quickly on, she showed her bus ticket, then turned towards me. “Thanks for a lovely day.”

“Do you think you’ll be free tomorrow?”

“I, er, don’t know. I’m gonna be really late home now so they may not allow me out tomorrow. I’ll text you.”

I smiled. “Thank you.”

She hopped off the bus and hugged me tightly, laying her head on my shoulder. I thought I could feel her boobs against my chest and started to erect. I moved my hips slightly, arching my back to pull my erection away from her. I didn’t know whether she could feel it, but I fervently hoped not. I didn’t want to embarrass or upset her.

“Don’t,” she whispered.

“What?”

“Don’t pull away from me.”

“Um.

“It’s okay. I know. I like knowing that I can do that to you.”

I didn’t know what to say or do, but fortunately the bus driver blew his horn. Sandra quickly let go and hopped back on the bus. “See you.”

I nodded and blew her a kiss just as the bus doors closed.

My own bus was already at the stand, so I went and got on, thinking about what she had said. I would check with Mrs Clarke first thing on Monday, and if she didn’t say not to, I knew I was going to ask Sandra to be one of my concubines.

“Soz Cant come out 2 play.” I got the text just before ten. I was disappointed, but she had already warned me it probably wasn’t to be.

I’d forgotten Mrs Clarke was coming, so I wasn’t dressed when she did arrive. At least, I was wearing knickers stockings and suspenders. It wasn’t a pair of knickers I would wear out and about, I had just decided, but I could and probably would wear them to bed, especially if I was going to have a wank.

I was startled when the doorbell went, but then panicked as I suddenly remembered. There wasn’t time to get everything off, so I stripped off the knickers, pulled on a different pair that I knew I could walk around in, then pulled my trousers and tee-shirt on. I had to put socks on as well, to hide the stockings on my feet, but still it was quicker than fighting my way out of a pair of stockings and a suspender belt. I hid the knickers under my pillow, and went down to let her in.

“You were still in bed?” she asked me archly.

“Sorry Miss. I forgot you were coming.”

“Hmm.” She seemed a bit annoyed, and I could well understand that.

“Would you like a cup of tea?”

“Let’s get the inspection done first shall we?”

“You need to clean the toilet bowl.” She told me twenty minutes later. “Other than that, it’s acceptable.”

“I don’t know how. Mum always did it I think.”

She sighed. “I’ll show you. Have you got any thick bleach? And cif or ajax or anything like that?”

I found what she wanted and carried it upstairs. She didn’t do it completely, but she did show me, got me started, and watched me finish it. “Now pour a small amount of bleach around the inside of the bowl, put the toilet lid down and put the bleach bottle on it. That’ll remind you to flush before you use the toilet next.”

I did so. “Thanks Miss,” I said softly. “I’m sorry.”

“Don’t worry lad, it’s not exactly your fault. I notice you haven’t ironed your school shirts. Do you know how?”

“I think so, yes.”

“All right, get your iron and board and show me.”

It was just after one before Mrs Clarke professed herself satisfied with everything and finally left. “You’re doing very well,” she said just before she left. “Well done. Just don’t forget your homework.”

“I won’t Miss.”

She left and I sighed, looking after her. I still fancied her like mad, but I think I fancied Sandra more. Except, I thought. I didn’t ‘fancy’ Sandra. What I felt for her was different, but I hadn’t a clue what. It never even occurred to me to think of love as I had no idea what that felt like. I still ‘fancied’ and lusted after Mrs Clarke just as much as I ever had. I didn’t lust after Sandra.

I got myself a sandwich. Mrs Clarke’s comments about homework got me thinking.

I texted Sandra. “I want 2 be with U. Tel yur parants U want help with yr maths hmwrk.”

The reply was very quick. “Cant Dads 2 gd hed help” A few minutes later another message came. “I want to be with you too.” I smiled at the fact that for once she hadn’t abbreviated her message to text-speak.

I just sent a smiley and a heart and a kiss.

The heart and kiss came back a few minutes later, with a “x 2”.

I laughed and left her to it. I’d text her later. Instead I went back to my room and put on the knickers I’d taken off when Mrs Clarke had arrived. They matched the suspender belt I was still wearing. They were beautiful and sexy. I would keep them, but they were for wanking in, not for going out in.

After I had come, I showered and dressed, and then for some reason went and raided yet another house, using the labelled bunches of keys.

There was an address, but no name, so I was really excited when I found out from looking at photos around the place whose it was. To my utter dismay, although there were three lingerie drawers to raid, there were just thirteen pairs of knickers I felt were worth taking. The rest were either far too tatty and unsexy, ordinary boring that I knew would probably be wearable but definitely not interesting, or I could tell would be too small or too uncomfortable to wear. I found a small amount of money and other easily transportable valuables and didn’t even bother with the food in the kitchen. After that, almost every Sunday until I ran out of labelled bunches of keys, I raided another house. Between them I obtained about three hundred quid in cash, a small fortune in jewellery and trinkets, and a little over one hundred pairs of knickers.