Horatio

I was so pleased to see Hannah at Compstall Pleasure gardens, and noticed that she was chatting to Joel Wainwright. I was just about to go up to her when that upstart, whatever he is called, from Ivy House came back with tea for her. It was obvious that they were there together. I could hardly speak for the disappointment and anger that I felt.

Mr. Wainwright and I walked someway down the path together, and chatted for a minute. Then he invited me to his house on Sunday week for the ornithology get together. I have little interest in birds, but a thought occurred to me, which I then put to him.

“Perhaps you might invite Mrs. Harrison to come as well,” I said. I do know that she has a great knolwedge of birds, and as a widow she doesn’t get invited to many social occasions.”

“Yes, why not,” he said. “I will go back right now and invite her, and tell her that you will be coming too, so she won’t be without an acquaintance.”

So I saw him walk back and speak again to Hannah and that other man. I do hope he doesn’t come. He obviously fancies Hannah, but she is much too good for him. Also he is doing his best to dissuade her from being a part of our housing group, but I think she is firm enough in purpose to tell him to mind his own business.

My day ruined, as I had hoped to spend it with Hannah, I was walking back across the various festival attractions at Compstall and who did I see but our maid, Blanche. Now there is a girl who knows how to enjoy herself, I thought - seeing her put all her effort into throwing a ball at the cocoanut shy. She really is a buxom lass. I wonder if she is stepping out with anyone. I shall ask her tonight when she comes to serve my dinner. I might see if she is available for a spot of romance on the side. And here I was feeling let down by Hannah. Now I have something else to contemplate to make up for not spending time with her.

It was after seven when Blanche returned to the house.

“Sorry, sir, to be late,” she said to me, “but I was at the Compstall Festival and had ever such a good time and I lost track of how late the hour was, so I ran all the way back, and am fair puffed.”

“Never mind, Blanche. Perhaps we can have a simple supper. I don’t mind if you do an omelet and perhaps some fried potatoes and a salad. Just the thing for a hot evening. Could you bring me the sherry? Thank you. I will sit and read the paper while you get on with your kitchen activities.”

I didn’t want to scare her off by getting too friendly too soon, but when she had said that the meal was ready, and had put it all on the table, I said, “I doubt if you have had time to eat yourself, with you running around in Compstall all day. Why don’t you sit and have a glass of wine and share my meal with me? You would be doing me a favour, as I hate to eat alone.”

“Oh, I couldn’t sir. It wouldn’t be right.”

“And who is know? I’m not going to tell my wife or the Allsops, are you? And it would make a pleasant evening for me after such a lovely day. You do look very comely now, with the roses in your cheeks from the summer sun.”

“Oh, don’t go be making me blush as well, sir. Well, if you are sure, I will get another plate and silverware and a glass, and I will join you. I must admit I’m fair parched from all that running, and haven’t had a bite since midday.”

She went into the kitchen and came back with her things on a tray. “I’ll only have a small helping, sir, as I wouldn’t want you to go without.”

“Nonsense, Blanche, I had quite a hefty tea on my own, and am quite willing to go halves with you on the food here that you have served me. Let me pour you some wine. It is quite a good bottle this. Do you drink wine much?”

“Not very often, sir. Mostly we have ale at home, and I sometimes have a Gin and It when I go out, but mostly it is beer.”

“Do have a sip and tell me what you think of it.”

“Oh, it is very nice, sir. Very smooth. I could easily get to like this sort of drink.”

“Tell, me Blanche. You are such a lovely young woman. Do you have a regular fellow?”

“Well, if you mean am I engaged, the answer to that is no. But I do have several lads who take me out on my days off. But they seem so young and silly, that I couldn’t be getting serious about the likes of them.”

“Tell me more about yourself, Blanche. And let me refill your glass, while I am at it.”

“Well, what’s to tell? I was born in Bollington and have two brothers. Fred, or course you know, but my other brother is Harry and he is the oldest. And my sister Charlotte is two years older than me. She is married now, as is Harry, but Fred always wanted to be close to me, so he came over here shortly after I did. The Allsops have been like parents to me since mine died.”

“And where do your sister and other brother live now, and what do they do?”

“Well, Harry married Emily, who lived in Nantwich, so he went there to live as she wanted to be near her parents. They have two children, Walter and Edith. I haven’t seen him since the wedding and have never seen the children. And Charlotte worked as a maid like I do, for Mr. Jackson, from Bollington, and then she got married too, a few years ago, but I haven’t heard from her since. I don’t even know where she is living now. But it was Fred who was the one I was close to. I am so glad that he lives near by.”

“This is a wonderful meal, Blanche. I don’t suppose you had time to make any pudding or dessert, so I think I will have some cheese and biscuits and some port. I hope you will join me.”

“Oh, Mr. Whittington. I am already fairly squiffy from the wine, and I thought port was only for gentlemen.”

“Well, if you wish, you can have some cherry brandy. How would you like that? It would be almost like having cherries for your dessert.”

“Oh, I like the sounds of that, but just the smallest glass.”

“Well, you get the cheese and I will see to the drinks.”

“Now then, which will you have - Cheddar, Stilton or Cheshire?”

“I must be loyal to my roots and eat Cheshire,” she said giggling, as she was finding it a bit hard to get her words out clearly.

“I agree, Cheshire cheese is very fine. But I am partial to a bit of Stilton myself - this comes from Hartington, just south of Buxton. Have you ever been to Buxton?”

“No, sir. I don’t have time to go much anywhere on my days off.”

“Buxton is a lovely spot - up high in the hills - with interesting caves and hot springs. You should go up on the train sometime. Have you travelled on the train much?”

“Well, not so much now, except I have been to Manchester around Christmas time.”

“What do you think of that cherry brandy then?”

“It is so nice, but it is making me feel a bit squiffy. I will have to make myself some strong coffee before I go home tonight, or Mother Allsop will wonder what ‘s up with me.”

“That’s a good idea. I’ll have some coffee with you.”

She got up and started to go into the kitchen to make some coffee - but as she got close to the door, she lost her footing, and would have fallen except that I caught her. I lowered her gently onto my lap, and she just sat there for awhile, not quite comprehending what was going on. I kissed her gently, and then said, “I like cherry brandy too, and I am getting the taste second hand, from your lips - which makes it a double treat.”

“I shouldn’t” she started to say, but I put my finger on her lips and said, “Yes, you should.”

With that, I carried her to the couch in the front room, and gently lay her down. By this time, I had managed to undo several of the buttons on her blouse, and sat beside her, undoing the rest, and then inserting my fingers into her undergarments to find her nipple, which as I expected was very hard.

“All right?” I asked her.

“Ummmm”, she said, which I took for assent.

I bent over and took the nipple into my mouth, and teased it, and then sucked it quite hard. She was squirming and I took this as permission to go to the next stage. I lifted her skirts, and found to my delight, that she wasn’t wearing any knickers. So it was easy as pie to undo my buttons, and do the job properly. She certainly made no objection, and I was relieved to find that she wasn’t a virgin, and was properly lubricated, showing her more than passing interest in what was going on. And perhaps what had gone on earlier, I thought.

After a few minutes of bliss, I put her skirts down again, and said, “I’ll just go and make that coffee, as I think we might both be in need of it.”

I went off to the kitchen. I don’t often make the coffee, but have done so in the past, so thought it wouldn’t be too hard a job for me to come to grips with. The kettle had boiled recently, so it only took a few minutes after I had put it back on the range for it to boil again. I found some already ground coffee in the cupboard, but was not sure quite what to use for actually brewing the coffee. But common sense told me that I could put the coffee in a jug, pour the boiling water on top, and then strain off the contents. So I was in the process of doing that, having found the cups and saucers and some milk and sugar nearby, and was just about to carry the tray into the parlour when I heard the front door click shut. I was both annoyed and relieved. I had enjoyed the moment, and I am sure she had too, but the last thing I want is to have some love-lorn maid making my life a misery. I had another glass of port with my coffee, which was not nearly strong enough - and then went to bed. Blanche can sort out the washing up in the morning when she comes in to get my breakfast