A Little Bit on the Side (37 page)

‘You surely aren’t questioning our athleticism are you Mr Manning? I’m quite sure that if push came to shove, such an expressive phrase in this context, we could prove you wrong.

And that leaves just two engravings from
I Modi (Or The Sixteen Pleasures):
Jupiter and Juno, Ovid and Corinna. Oh, and they’re rather unpleasant I think: great lumpish Roman creatures, not at all like our stylish Greek gods.’

While Marilita continued to study the Khajuraho prints with some interest, Jack walked across to look at the half-dozen or so books that were piled on the table by the easy chair. As he had expected they all continued, or perhaps amplified, the one and only theme of the room.

The Erotica of Pompeii
(Colour Illustrated)

Fanny Hill: Memoirs of a Woman of Pleasure

The Lustful Turk or Lascivious Scenes from a Harem

Sexual Mores in the Ancient World
(Illustrated)

De Figuris Veneris
- English Translation (Illustrated)

Secrets of the Boudoir by
a Lady

The Girls from Norton Convent

The Pearl and The Oyster
- Anonymous

‘I’ve never been able to understand why men find this sort of thing so fascinating Art imitating life I suppose, but personally I much prefer the later,’ said Marilita, who had completed her examination of the Khajuraho prints. ‘But it seems to be Marilyn’s gentlemen who most like this room, and from what she tells me they do have some rather strange whims.

Well, now that you’ve had a good chance to look around, what do you think of the contents of Marilyn’s little den Mr Manning?’

Jack gave this a few moments thought before replying.

‘Well as an exposition it is inevitably disadvantaged by the restricted scope of its subject matter. Within the limitations that imposes, however, I would say that the Beardsley shows the masterly economy of line that we have all come to expect, as indeed does the Shunga, which also handles its colour palette remarkably well. Courbet, of course, is noted for his wonderful flesh tones, an attribute which this example demonstrates to perfection. As for the Klimt, well …’

He was interrupted by Marilita.

‘Mr Manning, you are being very naughty and mocking us.’

‘No I assure you Mrs Davenport. I’d no more dream of trying to mock you, than you would of trying to embarrass me.’

‘Very well then: shall we call it quits and move on to the final room?’

Returning to the landing she opened the door to a room which Jack initially thought might have been a store room, so spartan did it seem after the excesses they had just left. Hung with drapes which enabled it to be sub-divided into three parts, its plain cream-coloured walls were relieved by just three indifferent prints. Containing no bed, its furniture included a dozen or so upright chairs ranged against the walls, two plain sofas, a table, a great pile of scatter cushions in one corner, and what looked to Jack like a rather low vaulting horse with a saddle on it.

‘We call this the games room,’ said Marilita. ‘We keep it exclusively for our themed meetings when perhaps three or four each of our gentlemen and ladies will come together for our own rather special version of blind date, or to engage in what Marilyn likes to describe as a little group therapy.

It could be role playing: the French Maid, Little Red Riding Hood, the Passionate Policewoman, that sort of thing. Or it might be games: Blind Man’s Bluff, Ride a Cockhorse, Musical Chairs or Hunt the Thimble. They’re all very popular. Oh, and of course Nymphs and Shepherds, that’s the favourite. We open up the whole of the two top floors for that.’

By now Jack’s mind was reeling as he tried to reconcile the list of artless children’s games with the reality of what might have been taking place. Nymphs and shepherds, for God’s sake: that certainly carried him back to his days of innocence. Tea in the front room at his Gran’s to Purcell’s
Nymphs and Shepherds,
with the piping voices of the Manchester Children’s Choir singing their hearts out on the rasping old Columbia 78. He could hear it still:

A different sort of sport and play at Eastgate Villa though. And Hunt the Thimble? He simply refused to give any thought to what that might involve, or the purposes to which the vaulting horse and saddle might be put.

‘Well I think that concludes a pretty comprehensive introduction to our activities here, which is what you requested. Would you like a cup of tea before you go back to the office?’

‘Tea with
Nymphs and Shepherds
perhaps?’ The words tumbled out before he could stop himself: a catastrophic confusion of ideas across space and time. It could of course mean only one thing to Marilita, and it earned him a very old-fashioned and uncertain look.

‘I beg your pardon Mr Manning.’

‘Sorry, sorry, sorry,’ said Jack. ‘My mind was miles away in the past, and no tea thank you very much. I’ve been away much longer than I anticipated.’

‘And are you able to tell me now what your final decision will be about the taxation of the little gifts that our gentlemen friends make to us.’

‘Oh certainly, and I think your conception of it as a sexual cooperative comes pretty close to the mark, although for the records I think something a little more oblique might be more fitting. Shall we say a gathering together of two or three, or more, for the sharing and enjoying of a mutual interest and the exchanging of gifts? None of the indicators of trading present, and so no taxability.

My private opinion is that you are all performing a very useful social service to what seems to me to be the highest of standards, and one which I would never in my wildest dreams have expected to find in the very purlieus of a little provincial town like Barlow.’

‘I’m sure that all the ladies will be very grateful for that, and I can assure them that all this will be kept absolutely confidential can I?’

‘You can indeed.’

‘And is it possible that we might meet you again in different circumstances some time Mr Manning? I’m sure that Marilyn would be very pleased to see you: as would I.’

‘It’s very kind of your to say so, but I think I would find the mix at Eastgate Villa a little too rich for my taste.’

‘Oh not with me you wouldn’t Mr Manning. Not with me.’

Jack smiled a response, shook her hand and returned to his office. The financial documents he held for Mrs Davenport he returned to her by letter, and in her file he left a permanent note.

‘Few, if any, of the indicators of trading are met. A satisfactory explanation for such money as Mrs Davenport has received being given, the enquiry has been closed.’

If the Barlow Players’ production of
Vanya
had not been quite so enthusiastically received as their preceding farce, it had nevertheless made them a little money, and their regular supporters had been more than satisfied. Following
Vanya,
with a return to comedy, the group was now well into rehearsals for a late summer production of
The Importance of Being Earnest
where Brandy had chosen Justin Hanna to play Jack Worthing.

This was unusual as Justin had only joined the group when rehearsals for
Vanya were
starting, and apart from Brandy and Dot nobody knew much about him. Over drinks in The Pump, however, Jack had learned from Brandy that although a newcomer to Barlow, Justin had many years experience working with an Oxford group under Johnny Ford, an old pro who’d known the Woodvines well in their professional days. He’d spoken so highly of him to Brandy, that he and Dot had done a little work with him alone, and been more than satisfied with what they saw and heard.

‘Very, very useful chap Jack,’ said Brandy. ‘Early thirties, so we can age him up or down, moves well, and has one of the best voices I’ve heard in years. Let’s hope he stays with us.’

‘Handsome bugger too,’ said Jack. ‘Touch of the Greek god about him: all that golden curly hair and a classic profile. The sort who appeals as much to men as to woman I would think. Have you learnt much more about him?’

‘Not a lot. Tends to keep his private affairs private, but I know he’s unmarried and works for a national firm of architects. He had been based in London, but when he got a move to Wolverton he preferred to live here rather than there, and so he commutes, but says he is able to do much of his work at home. That’s about the measure of it’

For the first time since he joined the group Jack had been less regular in his attendance at rehearsals for
Earnest
than he had for previous productions. Time and the weather were taking their toll on the fabric of his riverside house, and he was working all the daylight hours that were available to get his repainting finished before the autumn rains arrived. He’d also taken a spell of leave from the office so that Jimmy could come up from Rottingdean to look after the carpentry work that was needed, and give him a hand with some re-wiring.

They’d quite enjoyed having some time together entirely by themselves. Jimmy was at last able to talk Jack into joining him in his second exploration of the wonders of medieval craftsmanship that were to be found in the upper reaches of St Botolph’s spire, from which Jim returned ecstatic, and Jack grazed, dirty and less than enthusiastic.

‘Was that a little tit-for-tat for the climb up All Saints’ tower Jim?’

‘God, your daily occupation’s made you a suspicious bugger Jack. How on earth can you go into raptures about so much in the arts, and not see the beauty that’s up there? Go and get cleaned up, and I’ll buy you dinner at The Pump.’

The Pump was where they spent their evenings tucked away in a corner, and doing their best to drink the barrel dry, after dining well on Mrs Arscott’s cooking. She was still there, looking a touch older, but with the same masterly touch when it came to pastry. At The Pump, despite many long years of penny-pinching, Jim had assumed the role of a man of substance with consummate ease, and insisted on paying throughout. A return, he said, for the many occasions when Jack had stood treat.

‘And what about the Krugerrands Jack,’ he said, lowering his voice. ‘Have you done anything with them yet?’

‘Don’t intend to Jim. Not till I’m well away from the Revenue, and have thought it through carefully. No need of the cash at present, and the coins are increasing in value hand over fist. They’re tucked away nice and safe, and they won’t rust’

‘And you and Josie? You’re still together are you Jack?’

‘Well “together” hardly describes it Jim, as you’ve probably worked out. We’ve enjoyed providing each other with a little R & R, as they say, but that’s about the measure of it. So it’s not exactly an ideal domestic scenario, and not likely to become one. She’s not inclined that way, and I think I’ve known from the beginning it never would be like that.

To be honest Jim, apart from her very real and beautiful physical attributes, there’s not very much there. Not the sort of woman you’d want to share breakfast with day after day. Oh she’s brilliant at her job, and somehow she’s an excellent stage manager. I say somehow, because apart from what she’s picked up from Brandy, she’s read nothing much since she left school. Wouldn’t be a marriage of true minds if we went that far, so better left as it is. And how are things with you and Celia?’

‘Fine Jack, fine. Both glad to be shot of all the bloody hard graft at the Croft. Have you heard how the new people are getting on there?’

‘Haven’t heard a thing from the hill since you left Jim. I really ought to pop back some time, but never get round to it’

‘Well I can give you a bit of news then. Because I was always so close to dear old Ada, Ted has kept in touch with me since he and Charlie left. Just an occasional letter you know. Well in the last one he told me that Charlie and Lorna have decided to stay out in New Zealand with their son. He says they’ve got a beautiful place out there at about half the cost it would be here. Spot called Akaroa: describes it as bloody gorgeous. Just like paradise after all those years slogging his guts out up on the hill. He’s invited both you and me, if ever we feel like making the trip.

Ted says he and Sarah are going out for a few months next year. They never did go back to the hill by the way: settled in the West Country instead.’

They made good progress on the house while Jim was with Jack, and by the time they settled down for their final evening at The Pump, Jack told Jim that he reckoned he would be able to finish things off in a week of evenings.

‘Well if that’s the case, why don’t you pop down and have a weekend with us as soon as you’ve got your painting and the next Players’ production behind you? Celia would love to see you. She still sees Kate you know. Pops up fairly regularly on the train and stays overnight so they can do a theatre together. She asks me to let you know Kate keeps well, and sends her love.’

He didn’t add that without telling Kate what she was up to, Celia was manoeuvring desperately to bring the two of them back together. From her recent meetings with Kate, Celia was convinced that she would like to make an approach to Jack, but feared she would be embarrassed by a rebuff. Jim had mixed views about interfering. His opinion was that they should be left to sort it out for themselves, but he had reluctantly agreed to do his best to sound Jack out on the idea in the course of his visit.

‘I’m pleased to hear she’s well Jim. Still with her parents I suppose. Tell Celia to pass on my love when she sees her next’

‘So if it’s not likely to be permanent with Josie, are you going to carry on rattling around in that great place all by yourself, or look for somewhere smaller?’

‘Oh I’m staying put Jim. It gets a bit lonely at times, but I’ve got the bears for company. At least I can have an intelligent literary discussion with Buckingham, which is more than I can say for Josie.’

‘You’re going to keep them all then?’

‘Too many fond memories attached to them to let them go.’