Lavender - A Room In My Brother's House Is Ha free porn video

Lavender


Copyright Oggbashan October 2013

The author asserts the moral right to be identified as the author of this work.

This is a work of fiction. The events described here are imaginary; the settings and characters are fictitious and are not intended to represent specific places or living persons.

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I was looking forward to a few weeks with my brother and his wife. I used to visit them at least once a year, whenever I was in the UK. They have a rambling old house in the South Hams of Devon. I needed to rediscover my roots and perhaps put some real ones down somewhere. While I was with them I would be a part of the family. They had their own lives to lead and might be missing for a few days. If they were, I’d fend for myself.

Last year’s summer holiday after the car crash in Africa had been the last strain on our marriage. Maria had helped to nurse me after I was discharged from the hospital. My left leg had been the worst damaged, and I now had some metal pins permanently holding it together.

It didn’t matter to Maria that the accident had not been my fault and I hadn’t been driving. She did what she could for me but my temporary dependence was too much for both of us. We had been drifting apart for years, while maintaining a front for the rest of the world. Our enforced proximity brought things to a head. We went for a weekend break. After the first night alone together Maria flew into one of her increasingly frequent rages. This one was different. We said things to each other that never should be said.

Maria and I agreed to separate. We went to a local African lawyer and made an agreement dividing our property. She would keep the part share in the Safari Park and our other African assets. I would have the London house and our assets in the UK. In theory her share was larger than mine, but mine were possibly more stable, less likely to grow perhaps, but also less risky.

Some people might describe us as wealthy. If we didn’t overextend ourselves we could live adequately as self employed people managing our assets. Maria would live better than me on a large African estate with servants and staff. That was possible where she lived, but not for me in England.

Two months ago I had returned to the UK. I had lived in various hotels until the current tenants vacated the London house. I had then employed builders for a couple of months to redecorate and improve the house, adding handrails etc. to help with my temporary disability.

There was now no one, except my brother and his wife, and their home help Janet, left to care whether I lived or died. They didn’t compensate for the loss of my wife nor the c***dren we never had.

The taxi driver carried my battered suitcase along the flower-flanked path to the house as I limped beside him leaning on my cane. The medics said I would need to use it for another couple of months and might be nearly as fit as I had been by Christmas or early next year.

“Ian!” Angela flew out of the front door, wrapped her arms around me and kissed me. That was a great welcome. Even if she is my brother’s wife and therefore taboo, Angela is a woman I love for who she is.

Alan followed her and gave me a hearty handshake and his arm around my shoulder. I feel like the ‘little’ brother whenever we met. Alan is ten years older and six inches taller. Angela is four inches taller than me yet I am only a couple of inches short of six foot.

In the doorway stood their ‘daily’ Janet. She smiled at me. Janet makes me think of clotted cream and pasties. She isn’t plump, just gently rounded in the right places on her trim frame. She has the true Devon burr and seems part of the land. Her family have lived locally forever. Janet kissed me as well. She had never kissed me before. I enjoyed that kiss. It seemed to say ‘welcome home’ in a way that no one else had yet said. It reminded me that Janet is an attractive woman.

I had noticed that before but dismissed the thought. Each time Marie and I had visited we had been fighting each other and trying to hide it from Alan and Angela. We had been so involved with our arguments that I hadn’t considered Janet’s attractiveness, or our surroundings. Before I had married Marie, Janet had shown me around some of the local countryside while Alan and Angela were busy with their c***dren. I might have considered her as a possible partner, but Janet was married. Our only ‘sexual’ contact was an occasional hug and a peck on the cheek.

“Ian,” said Angela, “We are pleased you arrived when you did. We have to collect Sarah’s girls in a few minutes. We should be back in about half an hour. Janet will look after you.”

Angela turned to Janet.

“He’ll be in the Lavender room. Make him some tea, please.”

“The Lavender room? Are you sure that’s wise?”

“Of course it is, Janet. The guest bedrooms are being decorated. They’ve taken longer than planned. We didn’t expect the ceilings to be so bad. We thought the painters would be finished before Ian arrived, but they’ve been working on some outside jobs. The weather has been better than usual. They will take a few more days.”

Angela and Alan drove away in different directions. Cecily is twelve and at ‘big’ school. Phoebe is ten and itching to join her sister.

Janet took my case. I followed her up the stairs towards the attic. I could tell that she wasn’t happy.

“What’s this about the Lavender room, Janet? Is it damp or something more sinister?”

“I don’t think they’d like me to tell you, Ian, but I think I should. Come down to the kitchen. I’ll make you a cup of tea and then I’ll tell you.”

She put my suitcase on the bed and left. I hung my two suits and my now redundant uniform in the curtained alcove. I looked around the room. Apart from the uneven floorboards, the walls that weren’t straight, the tilted window it looked perfectly normal. For a room in Alan and Angela’s house it was normal. The walls and ceiling were plain white. There was no lavender colour anywhere so why was it called the Lavender room? It looked out over the back garden to the sea in the far distance. No lavender out there. The only lavender flanked the front path.

The kitchen was as I remembered it. This was Janet’s domain. The washed stone flagged floor, the scrubbed pine table, the gleaming Aga, all looked timeless. The kettle was just beginning to whistle as I sat on a wheel back chair by the table. I felt happy here. It wasn’t my home but this kitchen was as closer to a home than anything I had left.

“So, Janet, what is the mystery of the Lavender room? You had better tell me soon. They’ll be back shortly.”

“No they won’t. They always underestimate how long it takes to collect the girls. Even today they’ll stand around and chat. They have to take them home to Sarah. They’ll talk to her and admire the new baby. I don’t expect them for an hour from now.

“I think you are stalling, Janet. What about the Lavender room?”

Janet poured the tea and sat down at the table. She looked serious.

“Alan and Angela think I’m a silly old fool,” she started.

“Old isn’t true, Janet. I don’t think you are silly or a fool either.”

“Thank you, Ian. You have always listened to me as if what I said was important.”

“And why wouldn’t it be?”

“Never mind. About the Lavender room. I know it is haunted…”

“By whom or what?” I asked.

“By one of my ancestors. Well, not exactly an ancestor, because she didn’t have c***dren, but she was the sister of the man who was one of my ancestors. Dorcas died before she had c***dren.”

“Who was Dorcas?” I asked.

“Dorcas was one of the maids. She was twenty-three. Her first intended husband had been a fisherman lost at sea. She was going out with Josh, one of the farm workers."

“What happened?”

“Josh was caught smuggling, not for the first time. He was trying to get enough money to marry and set up home with Dorcas. He was offered a choice. Either he would be prosecuted and convicted or he could enlist in the Army. It was the time of the Crimean War. He knew that he faced a long jail term so he chose to enlist. He came to tell Dorcas. She told him that she was pregnant. They spent the night together and Josh left just before dawn, joining his regiment at Plymouth. He promised to come back before he sailed but couldn’t because as a reluctant recruit he wasn’t allowed out of barracks for the first three months. Before he could visit Dorcas his regiment was on the ship which left within hours. He never knew that Dorcas committed suicide by drowning herself as soon as she knew he had gone. He was killed at Inkerman.”

“A sad story but not uncommon. I suppose she lived in the Lavender room?”

“Yes. It is called the Lavender room because Dorcas used lavender as a perfume. She kept dried lavender heads among her few clothes and used lavender water on herself. The lavender plants are still lining the front path.”

“Janet. This is interesting but what about the haunting?”

“Josh told her he would return before he sailed. They hoped to get the vicar to marry them before he left for the Crimea. When he didn’t visit before sailing Dorcas knew that she would have the baby before Josh came back. She couldn’t face the disgrace. She went to the point to watch his ship depart and then threw herself into the sea. Although she could swim, she couldn’t while wearing all the clothes a Victorian woman wore at that time. The Vicar and the Coroner at the inquest took the charitable view that she slipped, and her death was an accident. All the locals knew that it wasn’t.

It is said that Dorcas’ ghost is still waiting for Josh. Most of the time the Lavender room is perfectly normal. But when a man stays there…”

“I’m not Josh.”

“Dorcas doesn’t know that.”

I decided that this story was just one of those traditions that still live in the countryside. I’d let Janet warn me of the dangers and ignore them. I couldn’t see that the ghost of a maid was likely to frighten me.

“OK,” I said. “Assume Dorcas thinks I’m Jonas. What happens to men who stay in that room?”

“It is serious, Ian, not a joke.” Janet had detected the sarcasm in my voice.

“Then you had better tell me the worst, Janet, so that I’m prepared.”

Janet looked at me as if unsure whether I really wanted to know. She sighed, sipped her tea, and said:

“First there is a smell of lavender in the room. Then Dorcas climbs into bed with the man…” Janet paused.

“And?” I asked, “this does sound interesting.”

“Dorcas makes love. After several hours she seems to realise that he isn’t Josh. She tries to kill him with even more energetic sex. If she isn’t satisfied with his performance she drowns herself – again, with realistic and grisly sound effects. The man is exhausted. Dorcas is an enthusiastic lover. The next morning the man usually needs assistance to get up and the room is strongly scented with lavender. One night is enough for most men. During the First World War a sergeant was here recovering from a gas attack. He was found dead.”

“With a smile on his face?”

“You are incorrigible, Ian!” Janet protested. “Yes. He was smiling.”

“Then I don’t think I have much to fear from Dorcas. Apart from my leg I’m very fit. I know that an active woman can wear any man out but at the moment I’d welcome such an encounter. I have a year or so’s abstinence to make up for.”

“What about Maria?” Janet asked.

“What about Maria?” I repeated. “We haven’t been in face to face contact for months. I suppose we will divorce when we have been apart long enough. In the UK it’s three years isn’t it? I don’t know and I’m haven’t bothered to find out. Marie said that she would make enquiries in Africa to see whether it would be easier there. I don’t have a lover hidden away waiting for me, or anyone who cares about me. ”

“That is sad, Ian.”

“Yes, Janet, it is. Once we meant something to each other but we grew apart and the accident broke the fragile tie that was left. Now there is nothing. I need to start again. So does she.”

Janet said nothing as she refilled my cup. She shook her head as if trying to remove something unpleasant.

“Be careful, Ian,” she said at last. “Alan and Angela love you. I wouldn’t want them hurt by your unhappiness. You are an easy target for a man-hunting woman and there are enough of them around here. Watch out for mantraps.”

I laughed. The idea of me being pursued by women broke my sombre mood.

“The only mantrap I see around here is you, Janet. I could do far worse than court my sister-in-law’s daily.”

“Don’t say things like that unless you mean them, Ian. Did you know that I am single again?”

“No! What happened?”

“He found a younger version in Plymouth. He left me three years ago. My divorce became final a few months ago.”

“I’m sorry, Janet. He was a fool not to realise what he had.”

I hobbled round the table to her, put my arms around her, and kissed the top of her head.

Alan and Angela returned with Sarah and the granddaughters, Cecily and Phoebe. Sarah said that the granddaughters wanted to see Great-Uncle Ian. I doubted that. Cecily and Phoebe rushed off to see Janet. I heard them rampaging around the house as we drank coffee. They did pop their heads around the door to give their aged relative a suspiciously jammy peck on the cheek but then they were off to run around the house again.

Sarah and the girls left shortly before dinner. All four of us sat down for the meal. Janet explained that she had sometimes stayed with Alan and Angela while her house was being finally decorated. She and her husband had sold the old large house and split the proceeds. Janet had a nearly renovated house that had been extended from an old cottage. Her husband had bought a terraced house in Plymouth.

After dinner we sat around drinking. I drank far too much of Alan’s deceptively smooth old Port. When I reeled upstairs at the end of the evening Alan had to prop me up. After a quick wash I fell into the bed naked and passed out.

I stirred. I was still half-asleep dreaming of making love to Janet. She was slightly soft and cuddly and our love-making was slow and sensuous, unlike the frenzied energetic coupling that had been the norm with Maria.

What had woken me was someone climbing into bed alongside me. An arm reached across and stroked my chest. There was a strong scent of lavender.

“Dorcas?” I asked.

“Yes, Josh, who else would I be?”

Her Devon burr was much stronger than Janet’s but she sounded similar. I could easily believe she was one of Janet’s relations. Dorcas was heavier built and skin on her hands felt slightly rougher as they wandered over my chest.

Dorcas slid between me and the mattress.

“Come on, Josh,” she purred, “Show me what a man can do.”

I kissed her. Her mouth opened and her tongue slid into mine. I could feel the bump of her pregnancy, not yet large enough to impede lovemaking, but too large to hide.

Dorcas’ arms wrapped around me. She pulled me up so that my erection was brushing against her pussy’s hairs. She wriggled against me, spreading her legs as I began to enter her. Her hands grabbed my hips and pulled. I gasped as I slid deep into her.

“You can do better than that, Josh,” Dorcas said. “I’ll help.”

Her legs wrapped around me and clamped against me. I was deeper into Dorcas than I had ever been in Maria. Dorcas and I pounded together harder and harder. My injured leg was throbbing with pain but the sexual excitement transcended it. The pain gradually subsided as the sensation of violent penetration and passive engulfment by a passionate woman overrode everything but our exhilaration. When I was almost on the point of emission Dorcas held back, relaxing her grip until the point of crisis passed, clamping hard again as soon as the near orgasm had gone.

She emitted faint yells and squeals as she reached her peak time and time again. The noise of our love-making probably couldn’t be heard in the rest of the house, because Dorcas’ excited responses were consciously muted.

I don’t know how long that first coupling took. Once Dorcas allowed me to cum into her I slumped across her body, exhausted. My leg had become a dull ache. I rolled away. Dorcas followed, resting her head on my shoulder with a hand close, too close, to my worn out manhood.

I think I must have slept for some time. I woke to find Dorcas’ hand stroking me to stiffness again. While she was still holding the important part of me, her face hovered over mine before kissing me long and hard.

This time she rode me. My hands sought her breasts, squeezed, stroked and caressed as her movements became more and more frenzied. It seemed as if she wanted to push me right through the mattress when she pounded downwards. The scent of lavender was even stronger as our bodies became heated.

Dorcas arched her back with a final squeal and shuddered. Her lower lips clamped hard around my stiff member, which was now too sore to ejaculate.

“You didn’t cum, Josh,” she said accusingly as she relaxed.

“I couldn’t,” I replied. “I’m too sore.”

“Too sore? Not man enough, more like. You need to be all man for me, Josh.”

“I’m not Josh,” I dared to say.

“Not Josh? Where is he?”

“I’m sorry, Dorcas. He’s dead. He died a long time ago. So did you.”

“I’m dead? Then how can I do this?”

Her pussy clamped hard around my sore member.

“Ow! I don’t know. But please be gentle…”

“But I like making love, often…”

“And apparently you can, but you’re a ghost.”

“A ghost who can feel you, and you can feel me?”

“I certainly can, Dorcas. You are wonderfully solid.”

“If you aren’t Josh, who are you?”

“I’m Ian, and I’m very pleased to meet you, Dorcas.”

“If you are so pleased, Ian, why have you stopped?”

“Because I’m worn out and sore. I hadn’t made love for months and…”

Dorcas’ lips silenced me. She kissed me. As she did, her body squeezed again. Despite the soreness I felt an erection start to return.

“That’s better. Hold on.”

Dorcas pounded me again and again until I couldn’t hold back. My whole being was centred on my erection that spurted deep into her. I slumped back.

“That’s it? You’re done?” Dorcas asked.

“For tonight? Probably yes. I’d need a rest before I could respond again.”

“That isn’t really good enough. You aren’t up to Josh’s stamina. He could make love all night long… Well perhaps not all night but more than you have.”

“How old was Josh?”

“How old? Twenty-five I think. I’m twenty-three.”

“That’s the difference, Dorcas. I’m over forty.”

“Over forty, Ian? That’s really old.”

“I feel it.”

“Very well, Ian. I’ll let you rest tonight, but I want more tomorrow night.”

Dorcas asked me about how long it had been since Jonas died, what life was like now, and about me. We chatted for about a quarter of an hour. At the time it didn’t seem odd to be talking to a ghost. Her warm, lavender-scented body was pressed against mine and felt wholly real.

Eventually I admitted that I was worn out. Dorcas kissed me.

“sleep now,” she said.

Dorcas snuggled against my shoulder. Her erect nipples dug into my chest. I was soon asleep.

When I woke up it was daylight. The bed showed the impression of Dorcas and there was still a very strong scent of lavender. If I hadn’t felt so much pain, I could have believed it was a dream.

I found it difficult to get out of bed. My injured leg was stiff and sore. It took me a long time to wash and dress, hobbling around with my cane. I came down the stairs very slowly. There was no one around but there were noises from the kitchen. I went in.

“Hello Ian,” Janet said. “Ready for breakfast? The others are on the school run…”

She turned to look at me as she spoke the last few words. She pulled out a chair beside the kitchen table.

“Sit down!” she ordered. “You look dreadful. What’s wrong?”

“This leg,” I said as I eased myself on to the chair, “and Dorcas.”

“I knew that they shouldn’t have put you in the Lavender room. Was it…?”

“Not too terrible. Certainly not terrifying but she has worn me out.”

Janet suppressed a laugh.

“She would. Like a coffee? You look as if you need a stimulant.”

“I do. Coffee would be good, Janet, thank you.”

Janet put a steaming mug of coffee in front of me.

“What would you like for breakfast, Ian? I can do everything from full English to cereal and fruit.”

“I think cereal would be enough, Janet. It’s fairly late for a full breakfast.”

“Are you sure, Ian? You look as if you need sustenance. If Dorcas behaved as she is supposed to, you need reviving.”

The unspoken question was “What was it like?”

“I could tell that she was related to you…”

Janet nearly blushed.

“How? No one has seen her, unless you did?”

“No, Janet. I didn’t see her. Her voice…” Janet relaxed visibly, “…was just like yours with a slightly thicker Devon burr. You could sound like sisters, and…”

“And?” Janet prompted. It was my turn to blush. Janet laughed out loud.

“How do you know whether I’m like Dorcas?” She asked, giggling.

“I don’t. I might enjoy finding out… but only as part of a serious relationship.”

“If I’m really like Dorcas, you might not survive, Ian.”

“It could be a great way to die.”

“Don’t be silly. Here’s your cereal. By the way, some post came for you this morning. I’ll get it.”

She went into the hall and returned with a couple of legal-looking envelopes. She handed them to me, then brushed her hand over my head.

“It might be interesting to find out whether I’m like Dorcas, Ian, but you’re still married, and you don’t really know me.”

“I’d like to.” She swung her hand as if to slap my face. “I mean I’d get to know you better, not find out whether…”

Janet’s kiss stopped me. She wrapped her arms around my shoulders. I leaned back against her breasts.

“I know what you really mean, Ian. You are the first man who has shown any interest in me since my divorce. I appreciate that, but we are both hurting. You are hurting physically as well as emotionally. If you want to, I could take you out to lunch today. I finish at noon.”

I twisted so that I could look at her.

“I’d like that, Janet, but I should open these letters first. They might mean I have to do something, today. If not, I’d gladly accept.”

“OK, Ian. I’ll still be here when you’ve read your mail.”

She hugged me and moved away to continue working in the kitchen, apparently sorting washing. The phone rang. Janet went to the hall and answered it.

I opened the first envelope. It was from my solicitors, just a formal acknowledgement of receiving the copy of the African marriage certificate I had left with them when I asked them about the possibility of divorcing Maria.

Janet returned as I reached for the second envelope which was fatter. Inside were several sheets of photocopying with a covering letter. I glanced at it and laughed.

“What’s so funny?” Janet asked.

“My solicitor’s advice on my divorce.”

“Funny? Most solicitors’ letters mean costs.”

“This one doesn’t. Can I have another coffee, Janet, and your attention while I explain?”

“OK. I’ll get coffee for both of us once I’ve started the washing machine.”

She went out of the kitchen with an armful of washing. When she returned she refilled my coffee mug and brought one for herself. She sat beside me.

“Ready?” I asked.

Janet nodded.

“My solicitors have looked at my marriage certificate and the deed of separation Maria and I signed. They weren’t sure of the exact legality of either document so consulted an associate company in Nairobi.

The Nairobi solicitors faxed copies of documents about marriage laws and customs where Maria and I married. But, and this is the stupid part, we DIDN’T marry.”

“What!” Janet spluttered.

“We didn’t marry. What we went through was an engagement ceremony. If we hadn’t married, Maria could have sued me for breach of promise, or I could have sued her. We should have had another ceremony for the actual marriage. It was like signing a pre-nuptial contract, and not going through with it. What we thought was the separation agreement was actually the cancellation of the engagement. Since we did that by mutual consent, the engagement is ended without a marriage. So I’m single. So is she. We’ve always been single.”

I swallowed some coffee as Janet and I took in what the lawyer had written. I showed her the letter. We still didn’t really believe it.

“Did you read the second page, Ian?”

“There’s a second page?”

Janet handed it to me. I read it. What it said was, even if we had gone through with the actual marriage ceremony, we still wouldn’t have been married. The marriage would only be legal between two members of the particular tribe who inhabited the area. British citizens were ineligible. I laughed out loud.

“No wonder the African lawyer was so pleased with his fee. He got money for arranging the marriage that wasn’t a marriage, and then for cancellation of the engagement contract that wasn’t an engagement contract…”

“What does that mean for you and Maria?”

“It means that we have never been married and the agreement between us is void. We could renegotiate the property split between us, but since we were never in any legal partnership, what’s the point? The split is fair to both of us. I’ll tell my solicitors to write to hers and suggest leaving everything as it is.”

“So, newly single Ian, what now?”

“Now, not so newly-single Janet, I accept your invitation to lunch when you are free.”

“That’ll be in about an hour. By the way, the phone call was from Angela. They’ve been to an auction viewing in Truro, found some items they’d like to bid on, and are staying there overnight for the auction tomorrow. The girls will be staying with friends for a sleepover. They do that so often that they and their friends have nightwear in each others’ houses. Angela asked me to look after you until tomorrow evening. I presumed that you would be OK with that. ”

“Of course I am, Janet. At the moment there’s no one I’d rather be with.”

“Not even Dorcas?”

I laughed.

“You’re not as demanding or as exhausting as Dorcas.”

“Don’t be too sure about that, Ian. You don’t know what I might be like…”

Janet hugged me again. I was enjoying her hugs.

“Can I stay here and talk to you as you work?” I asked.

“Of course.”

So I did. She talked about growing up locally. I talked about my former life in Africa. She kept me supplied with coffee and helped me to stand up when I needed to drain some of the coffee away.

Later I climbed into the passenger seat of Janet’s old Land Rover.

“Are you sure this is OK, Ian? You’ll get shook up a bit. Will your leg stand it?”

“It should do. It only hurts when I walk too far, as I did yesterday, or I do too much, as I did with Dorcas.”

“Was she that demanding?”

“Yes. What do local people know about her?”

“I’m not sure I should tell you. I haven’t really told Alan and Angela. I didn’t think I’d need to, because they intended to use the Lavender room as a study, not a bedroom. They knew that Dorcas haunted that room, but not the details.”

Janet started the engine. I expected it to be noisier than it was. We could still talk.

“So what are the details? I’ve met Dorcas now. If I’m going to meet her again I’d like to know what to expect.”

“I don’t think you should meet Dorcas again, at least not tonight. I’m not sure you are fit enough. Your leg certainly isn’t and she doesn’t make allowances, does she?”

“Perhaps she does. She was more reasonable when I admitted my age.”

“Oh. OK. Here’s what I know from the local traditions. Even before her death, Dorcas was considered to be man-hungry. When she took up with Josh, some of his relations were worried even though he was reasonably fit for that era. After a few months with Dorcas he was looking less fit and frequently tired. Some of the local young men were jealous of him. Some of the women were worried for him. Others were shocked. In the mid-19th Century, women weren’t expected to be sexual predators.

It was said that he only continued poaching at night because while poaching he was away from Dorcas’ bed and poaching was less strenuous than making love to her.

When he went, Dorcas was already pregnant. If she hadn’t been, she might have been able to attract another man, but the men who weren’t scared off by the stories of her insatiability didn’t want the responsibility of a pregnant woman, and then supporting another man’s c***d. So Dorcas went from making love several times a night, to no sex at all. That was the trigger for her suicide. Most didn’t think that it was for love of Josh, but loss of her sexual partner with no short-term prospect of another that made her kill herself.

After her death, which the coroner kindly attributed to ‘an accident’ so that she could be buried in the churchyard, no one used the Lavender room for some months. Then incomers rented the house. They used the Lavender room for the governess. She didn’t have any bother with Dorcas. No woman who slept in that room has ever had any sign that the room is haunted.

When the c***dren went off to boarding school, the governess went to another family. The Lavender room was unused for some years, and then the wife’s brother-in-law, recently widowed, stayed in it for one night. He met Dorcas. Apparently he enjoyed the encounter and wrote a detailed account of what had happened which he left with the family. I think he must have been economical with the truth, because the family didn’t think that Dorcas was anything but ‘interesting’.

The next visitor to stay there was the husband’s older brother who was a Methodist minister. He rushed out of the Lavender room in the middle of the night shouting about a wanton trollop. After that, the family made sure that only women slept in the Lavender room.”

Janet swung the Land Rover on to a tidal road. She negotiated the water splashes with care in a low gear.

“I brought us this way because we get some good views of the estuary and it is a short cut to our destination. It’s not too bumpy for you?”

“No, Janet. I’m OK. My leg is beginning to recover from Dorcas. When was it that the minister called her a ‘wanton trollop’?”

“I’m not sure. The traditions about Dorcas are short on dates. Possibly the 1870s or 80s. The house was unoccupied from 1890 to about 1905. That’s when Dorcas really caused trouble.”

“How? If the house was empty, who could Dorcas make love to?”

“All the lads. It became almost a rite of passage for our local young men to spend the night of their 21st birthday in the Lavender room.”

I laughed.

“I can see the attraction.” I said.

“So did our young men. Their girlfriends, who wanted to be virgins when they married, felt that they couldn’t compete with a ghostly sexual athlete like Dorcas, not unless they wanted to risk becoming pregnant. Just as Dorcas had been unable to face being a single mum in the mid-century, so did the women in the 1890s. There were many hurried marriages and apparently premature babies but not all the men could or would marry the women who had become pregnant trying to compete with Dorcas.

After three women committed suicide and one young man nearly died after visiting Dorcas, the village decided that something had to be done. Locking and barring the Lavender room wouldn’t work. The attraction of Dorcas meant that the young men would go to great lengths to get into the Lavender room. Eventually they persuaded the absentee landlord to sell the house. It didn’t make much because it had been neglected for so long, but the new owners were a retired couple from London. They renovated the house, and in a spirit of misguided humour, they papered the walls of the Lavender room with lavender-figured wallpaper.

One of their sons, when visiting his parents, persuaded them to let him sleep in the Lavender room. Apparently he and Dorcas enjoyed themselves for a whole week. Later, his parents found that he had embellished the wallpaper with tiny drawings of positions from the Kama Sutra. They were not pleased with him, and he wasn’t a welcome visitor for some years until he returned with a new wife – and didn’t sleep in the Lavender room.”

At that point Janet swung the Land Rover into the car park of a public house overlooking the sea.

“Here we are. This is where we’re eating lunch.”

“Do you mind if I’m old-fashioned on a first date, and pay for us, Janet?”

“No. Of course not. I’ll be delighted to be your guest, Ian.”

Over the meal of local sea food we didn’t talk about Dorcas. We talked about ourselves and found out more about each other. I admit it. We enjoyed ourselves. Despite my much-travelled life and Janet’s more limited travelling, we seemed to be in tune with each other, laughing at the same things, and with similar cultural interests.

After lunch we sat on the terrace looking out to sea. We were well wrapped up because it was cold for the time of year. The rest of the patrons had stayed in the warm building. Janet was drinking fruit juice while I tried the recommended local bitter.

“I’m not happy about you spending another night in the Lavender room,” Janet said suddenly. “ Sometimes I feel sorry for Dorcas. All she wanted was her man. She had him for a few months. Most of the local girls at that time were pregnant when they married so she wasn’t unusual in that. They couldn’t afford a church wedding on their own. Most of the local employers paid for multiple weddings for pregnant girls. The one notable event was f******n brides at one service.”

“That is a lot at once, Janet.”

“It is the local record, but other parishes had more.”

Janet looked serious.

“I’m worried about you. It’s nearly the anniversary of Dorcas’ suicide. That is Halloween. Dorcas is at her worst, some say her most demanding, as Halloween approaches, and insatiable on the night of Halloween itself.”

“I survived last night,” I admitted ruefully, “but I think only because Dorcas took pity on an ‘old man’ who had done his best.”

“Would your best be good enough if she had been more demanding? It’s a serious question, Ian. I don’t want to lose you to a sex-mad ghost.”

“Are you jealous of Dorcas?” I meant it as a joke.

“I could be,” Janet replied. “not of one night with her, but if you kept going back. I’m not as young as I used to be…”

“Neither am I. I could easily have far too much of Dorcas, more than I could endure. I don’t like admitting that, but it’s true. If I could avoid her…”

“That’s it! You will. I’m not letting you sleep in the Lavender room tonight.”

“How, Janet? The other room is full of decorating equipment.”

“My spare room isn’t. It’s small but it is Dorcas-free. The painters have finished for the weekend and they’ve already done the bedrooms.”

“Your room? Isn’t that an imposition? I’m supposed to be staying with my brother.”

“But he, and his wife, are away tonight. They won’t know. When they return we could tell them, and you could use my spare room until the decoration is finished. You’d avoid Dorcas completely.”

“You’re really worried about me, aren’t you, Janet? If Dorcas is such a threat, has anyone tried to exorcise her?”

“Yes. And that’s why I’m worried. Our local vicar tried a ceremony before the First World War. He and his helpers ran from the house and he would never return. He wasn’t an expert, but he thought he could help Dorcas. She disagreed violently.

In the 1960s some spiritualists heard about Dorcas and they wanted to investigate, using a male medium. They too had to leave hurriedly. The medium thought that Dorcas was really evil. The locals discounted that. They thought that the medium was a closet homosexual and the wrong man to deal with Dorcas, but the other spiritualists were really worried. They tried to get the then owners to allow a full-scale investigation, but the owners refused.

Since then Ian, until you, I don’t think a man has spent a night in the Lavender room. Your brother ignored the stories about Dorcas I think because neither he, nor anyone he knows, has experienced her. I admit it, I wasn’t too worried before you met her. I thought that Dorcas had gone away, or had got less demanding. Seeing the state of you this morning, I’m really worried. I won’t let you stay in that room tonight.”

“You won’t let me? What are you going to do, Janet? k**nap me?”

She laughed.

“I hope I won’t have to. I hope you’ll accept my invitation to spend the night in my spare room, and a few more nights until your brother’s guest bedroom is ready. Please?”

“Since you ask so nicely, how could I refuse? I accept.”

“That’s settled then, Ian. You’ll have a Dorcas-free night.”

“That would be a relief, although Dorcas did show some compassion when I admitted my age…”

“Hang on. You’re saying that Dorcas spoke to you? Not just to Josh?”

“Yes. I said she did.”

“That is unusual, Ian. Normally Dorcas addresses whoever is in the Lavender Room as Josh.”

“She did at first, but then we had a conversation. Between Dorcas and me, Ian. She acknowledged that I wasn’t Josh.”

“That’s very odd, Ian. As far as I know, Dorcas has never had a conversation with any of her victims. She talks about Josh, talks to Josh, but never admits that her victim might not be Josh. What has changed, and why?”

“Don’t ask me, Janet. I haven’t a clue. I was just Dorcas’ one-night stand.”

“Perhaps it was because you are older. As far as I know all her previous victims have been well under thirty. We’ll have to check the accounts of her apparitions.”

“She was scarcely ‘an apparition’, Janet. She was as solid as you are. The only difference…”

“How do you know she is like me?”

“I don’t. I’m sorry, Janet. I mean that she seemed to be a living woman, not a ghost. She had weight and substance, warmth and texture, and… A slightly obvious pregnancy bump. That might not have been noticeable when clothed. It was apparent when her skin was against mine.”

“I think I might be getting jealous of Dorcas. She’s been in your bed, bouncing up and down on you…”

“Yes. Very effectively.”

Janet looked at me but said nothing. When we had finished our drinks she drove us back to Alan and Angela’s house and collected my overnight things.

“Since you are staying with me tonight, I’ll cook there, Ian. Is that OK?”

“Of course it is Janet, unless you would rather go to a restaurant. I’d like to renew my memories of some of our meals together years ago.”

“You would? At the time my husband didn’t mind. He couldn’t imagine anyone else finding me attractive, and you did, didn’t you?”

“Yes,” I said, giving her a hug that turned into a kiss.

“But you didn’t do anything, did you? You were a perfect gentleman.”

“And you were a happily married woman – then.”

“And now, Ian, neither of us is married. OK. A restaurant it is. Can I choose?”

“Of course.”

“Then I’ll make a reservation. Hang on while I phone. You could make us some coffee.”

Janet was gone. I found the coffee and started to make it before I realised that I had no idea how Janet liked her coffee. We knew so little about each other. That wasn’t wholly true. Janet would know how I liked my coffee because she had made some for me several times. I knew that she loved where she lived with a real enthusiasm.

That evening in a local seafood restaurant within walking distance of Janet’s house, although the food was fantastic, we barely noticed. We spent much of the time just talking to each other, finding out what we liked, what we hated, and just enjoying each other’s company.

We drank a couple of bottles of wine between us. On the walk home we held hands at first then wrapped ourselves around each other. My injured leg appreciated Janet’s unobtrusive support.

Inside her house, Janet was about to get the bedding ready for the spare room. She stopped, and looked at me.

“Sod it!” She said suddenly. “Dorcas has had you. Now it’s my turn. We don’t need the spare room. I want you in my bed. Any objections, Ian?”

My kiss answered her.

Being in bed with Janet was eerily similar to my encounter with Dorcas. There were obvious differences. I was wearing protection which I hadn’t needed nor expected to need with a ghost. Janet’s perfume wasn’t lavender and her hands were much smoother and gentler than Dorcas’ work-coarsened ones.

But Janet’s voice was familiar. She and Dorcas had the same gentle burr even when excited. Janet’s body felt nearly the same except for the slightly pregnant bump that Dorcas had.

Janet was much more gentle. She was controlling, demanding, but compassionate. She took care to avoid strain on my leg. Although she rode me, she was slower and less violent. When we tired, she rested on me with her head on my shoulder, waiting until we were ready again.

Was it just that Janet is much older than Dorcas had been? Or was Janet prepared to make more allowances for me? I don’t know. All I did know was that I knew I would survive a night with Janet, and be ready for many more such nights. With Dorcas? Even with her making allowances for my age, I’m not sure I could endure night after night of her.

The next morning I woke to an empty bed with a dent where Janet had been. I could hear her in the kitchen, presumably making breakfast. By the time I had shaved and showered, the smell of breakfast was making me feel hungry.

Janet insisted that I sat down at the kitchen table as she served. I surprised myself by the quantity I ate. Janet approved. I obviously liked her cooking.

After breakfast we took our coffee outside into the sunshine, slightly warmer than yesterday.

“Well, Ian? How do you feel this morning?” Janet asked suddenly.

“Happy.” I replied. “Well rested, well fed and well…”

“Fucked?” She suggested.

“That too, thank you, Janet,” I agreed. “I could take many more nights like last night, but not nights with Dorcas. One, possibly two, and I’d be shattered.”

“What are we going to do about Dorcas, Ian?”

“What do you mean? What can we do?”

“She’s unhappy. She ought to move on to wherever she should go.”

“Probably, Janet. But how?”

“She spoke to you. She acknowledged you as someone who isn’t Jonas. That has never happened before. While you were sleeping in, I rang the local history expert. He confirmed that while Dorcas had sometimes been known to speak, she had never recognised that the man she was with wasn’t Jonas. Except you. That is a real change.”

“Is it? Or is just that none one else has admitted that they spoke to Dorcas and she replied?”

“I don’t think so. Dorcas rarely speaks at all.”

“She spoke to me for some time.”

“What did she say?”

As far as I could remember I repeated as much of my conversation with Dorcas word for word. Janet seemed stunned that we had talked so much.

“OK,” Janet said. “I think we need to help Dorcas. She’s changing and may be ready to leave. You know that your brother and his family are away over the Halloween weekend and a couple of days afterwards?”

“No. I knew they would be leaving me alone for a few days, but not exactly when.”

“They’d asked me to look after you at that time. I think they thought you were more dependent than you are. Your leg is healing, isn’t it?”

“Yes, Janet. Except for another encounter with Dorcas, or a long hike across Dartmoor, I could do most things. I’ll always set off airport metal detectors but that’s a small price to pay for a leg that will be fully functional.”

For the rest of the day Janet became my tour guide for the South Hams. We visited places I remembered from years ago and I was pleased to see how little they had changed. Janet was a delightful guide, mixing details about local sights with anecdotes of local oral history and legends that hadn’t made the guide books. Most of them were about young men and women getting it together out of sight of their parents.

In the evening she drove me back to my brother’s house.

“Tell Alan and Angela about Dorcas. I’ll collect you at ten o’clock, Ian,” she said before leaning across for a long lingering kiss.

Angela met me in the hall.

“Alan will be back shortly,” Angela said. “He’s doing some shopping for tonight’s meal.”

As I limped into the living room, Angela looked at me quizzically.

“You look shattered, Ian. Been doing too much?”

“I met Dorcas…”

“But she didn’t leave lipstick marks on you, did she?” Angela was teasing me.

I wiped my mouth with a handkerchief. There were slight red marks on it. Only another woman would have spotted the faint traces on me.

“No, that wasn’t Dorcas.”

“I know. That was Janet. I saw her dropping you off with a friendly kiss. Or was it just friendly?”

“If you saw us, you know it wasn’t.”

“But you’re married, Ian. Is that fair to Janet?”

“I’m not married, Angela. Apparently I never was married.”

I explained about the solicitor’s letters. Angela brought coffee while I was getting them to show to her. She giggled loudly when she read the second page.

“OK, single brother-in-law, are your intentions honourable? Janet is our friend and she’s been hurt.”

“So have I, Angela. It is early days yet, but if she’ll have me, my intentions are honourable, unlike Dorcas.”

“You do look shagged out. Dorcas?”

“Yes. One night with her was too much.”

“One night, Ian? But it’s been two nights.”

“Janet k**napped me after seeing what Dorcas could do to me in just one night. She lent me her spare room last night, and she’s picking me up later so that I can be Dorcas-free.”

“I didn’t really believe in Dorcas. Is she that demanding?”

“Do you want details? I’d be embarrassed.”

“You shouldn’t be. Dorcas is a local legend.”

“And she is worse, or better, than the tales that are told of her. Janet is puzzled because Dorcas spoke to me at length, recognising that I wasn’t her Josh. Janet thinks…”

“You love Janet.” That was a statement from Angela, not a question.

“Yes.”

“Then I wish you two well. She deserves better than that low-life former husband. You deserve better than Marie…”

“I don’t know about Janet’s former husband, but Marie was good for me until we grew apart. We’re still friends and will stay friends, but we should never have ‘married’. Now we know we didn’t, we can still be the friends that we should have stayed, instead of the squabbling lovers we became.”

“What DO you do for a living, Ian? Alan has been elusive about how you pay your way.”

“What is this? Are you playing the role of a Victorian father for Janet? Wanting to know my prospects?”

Angela laughed nervously.

“Sorry Ian,” she said, “but I have been Janet’s friend for a long time. I’ve been supporting her through her divorce. It was vicious, unnecessarily expensive because both sets of lawyers were incompetent, and very painful for her. I want her to be happy.”

“OK. It’s no big secret, even if Marie sometimes described me as a carrion-seeking vulture. I’m a specialist in turning around failing enterprises. If a company is in real trouble, their bank might refer them to me. Usually I manage to get the company back on its feet, or at worst salve something for the owners and the bank from the wreckage. For the last couple of years I have been doing that in Africa. Marie now owns those assets. But I have several investments in the UK from years ago.”

“Enough to support Janet, yourself, and a possible family?”

“Yes. Even if I stopped work today, I could do that for life.”

“But you wouldn’t retire, now, in your early forties?”

“No. I’d be bored stiff. If, and it is a large if, Janet would have me I’d move down here and concentrate on working in the South West. I might become a neighbour.”

“House prices in the South Hams are expensive, Ian.”

My turn to laugh.

“I could sell one or two of my London houses and buy almost anything I liked. Any country estates for sale, Angela?”

“One or two London houses! How many have you got?”

“Apart from the Chelsea one I was intending to live in, about fifteen that are rented out. I’m not sure of the exact number, today, because two are for sale and I have left bids to buy another three.”

“So you’re Alan’s rich brother?”

“Depends on your definition of rich. I could walk into a car dealer and buy a Rolls-Royce or a Bentley outright, even a brand new one. But I wouldn’t. I’d use the money to turn round a failing business. That would be a better investment than an expensive luxury.”

“Does Janet know how much you are worth?”

“We haven’t discussed it. We have talked more about Dorcas than any other subject. Janet rescued me from Dorcas, and as you asked her to, she is looking after me.”

“Janet, and several of our local friends, are in financial trouble. They work, or rather worked, for an agricultural supply company. They’ve been laid off because the company’s credit line has been stopped…”

“Sounds like a task for me in my professional capacity, Angela.”

“It might be. Janet is struggling to pay the builders. She had a real job with the company and had stopped working for us as our daily help some time ago. She came back for a few hours at weekends to help pay for the house repairs. When she was laid off we increased her hours a week. The builders will have to stop work if she doesn’t get back to her real job soon. If you could help?”

“I’ll have to know a lot more but I’ll have to tread warily. I don’t want to put pressure on Janet nor appear to be buying her.”

“Could you try?”

“Of course. How large is the company?”

“I don’t know. Janet would. But they employed over a hundred people locally.”

“Ouch! That is a steep challenge even for me. My usual comfort zone is small companies employing less than fifty. I’ll dig out what information I can. I can’t promise to do more than try. It depends on how bad their difficulties are.”

“But if you could help, Janet would appreciate it, and so would many other local families. The whole community is hurting.”

“I’ll try. But I won’t be able to if Dorcas kills me.”

“You’re serious, Ian, aren’t you?”

“About Dorcas? Yes. I survived one night because Dorcas was merciful and made allowances for my advanced age. Another night, or two, and I might not live. Dorcas is a female predator who demands more and more sex.”

“So you’re going back to Janet’s house tonight?”

“Yes, Angela. That is safer than staying in the Lavender room. I’d like to help Dorcas, to get her to accept that she’s dead, but not by risking my life to do it.”

“I’m sorry we can’t put you in another room yet. The builders are working as fast as they can because we are one of their few clients that can pay their bills promptly. Our custom is keeping them solvent until the local company is back on its feet – if it ever is.”

“Any empty properties nearby that need renovation?”

Angela blinked. She didn’t get the implication.

“Angela. If there are a couple of houses for sale, or that could be for sale, that need work to make habitable, I could buy them and employ the builders to do the renovation. If you and Ian use them, the builders must be competent. They are, aren’t they?”

“Yes, Ian. We’ve used them for years. They understand the structure of the older local houses.”

“Then I could make money. I could renovate properties and make them suitable for resale or rent. The builders would have work that could be paced according to their other customers’ priorities, and I’d have local assets. But if I’m going to start buying property here I need somewhere to stay that isn’t the Lavender room, nor Janet’s spare bedroom. I’ll also need a car to get around. Janet’s LandRover is too bouncy for my leg.”

“A car? We’ve only got one. Alan needs it every day.”

“Angela! I can BUY a car, or two, or three…”

“I forgot. Alan and I are so used to watching our money…”

“But that’s only because you have spent and are spending so much on this house. A few months after the work is finished and you too could buy a second car.”

“I suppose we could. We have spent tens of thousands on the house this year.”

“And that was from your income, not your capital.”

“How do you know that?”

“Alan is my brother and he does talk to me, send me emails, ask for advice in my area of expertise…”

“I’m not yet used to the idea that anywhere in the world is in instant contact with anywhere else.”

“Not anywhere, Angela. There are many parts of Africa where reliable internet access is rare or completely absent. Even here in the South Hams there are pockets with very slow connection speeds. Alan spent a substantial amount getting fast broadband to this house.”

Alan arrived with the shopping. Angela went to the kitchen to refill our coffee and help Alan put away the shopping. As I stretched my leg out on a stool I heard Angela telling Alan about my newly single status, and I assume when she spoke very quietly, my relationship with Janet.
When they came into the living room Alan asked to see my solicitor’s letters. Like Angela, he found the second page hilarious.

“Well, bachelor brother, I understand you’ve met our household ghost Dorcas?”

“Yes, and she is very demanding. Has Angela told you I’m staying with Janet tonight?”

“Yes. I’m sorry we haven’t got another room for you yet. But you are thinking of moving down here?”

“That depends, Alan. On what happens between Janet and me. But I might be here for some time if I can help with your local company that is in trouble.”

“It’s not just the company, Ian. So many of our neighbours work there, or rely on the custom from those who are employed there. Many, like Janet, are in deep financial shit. They’re still ‘employed’ so can’t claim unemployment, but aren’t getting paid. If it goes on much longer, or the company folds completely, the impact would be disastrous locally.”

“I’ve told Angela that I’ll try. That’s all I can do. The company might not want to talk to me. Do you know any of the directors or managers, Alan?”

“No. I don’t. Janet does. She is, or rather was, a senior secretary to one of the managers.”

“OK. I’ll talk to her tonight while I’m avoiding Dorcas.”

“Is she really that terrible? We just thought of her as a curiosity.”

“She is more than that. She is dangerous. She has reacted to me very differently than all the previous recorded encounters. I’m worried about her and what she might do. So is Janet. I feel sorry for Dorcas but I’m not sure what I should or could do. If her character as a ghost is changing, who knows what might happen? I don’t.”

“Janet’s coming to collect you later?”

“Yes.”

“You might need to think about paying for her petrol, Ian. I know, but I shouldn’t, that her account at the local filling station is in arrears. At least a quarter of their customers are the same. If they don’t pay for their fuel soon, that station could close.”

“Another local business that could use my help?”

Angela answered.

“Ian, it is only in trouble because of the Agricultural Suppliers. If you can sort them out, the filling station should survive. So should the shops, the pub, the local Post Office… They’re all suffering.”

“Noted. I’ll talk to Janet. Whether she will accept money from me? What do you think?”

“She could find that difficult, Ian,” Angela said. “You’ll have to tread very carefully…”

We left the discussion at that and talked about other subjects for the rest of the evening and during the meal until Janet came to collect me.

As we drove away I glanced at the LandRover’s fuel gauge. It read less than a quarter.

Inside her house we sat down in her living room. I couldn’t think of an easy way to start the conversation so I jumped right in.

“Janet,” I said, “Angela told me that the company you work for is in trouble. Is that true?”

She didn’t need to answer. The expression on her face was enough.

“Do you know that I’m a professional saver of companies in trouble?”

“You are?” Janet didn’t sound impressed.

“I am. That’s how I make my living, getting companies out of a mess. I’m good at it.”

“But you’ve been working in Africa, Ian. How relevant is that?”

“I worked in the UK as well. I sorted out three UK companies last year and two so far this year. I might be able to help.”

Janet seemed more interested then.

“Do you know anyone at your company I could talk to?”

“Yes. But they can’t afford anyone. They can’t even pay me.”

“I know. Most companies I work with couldn’t pay me in advance. I am only paid if I succeed and when they can afford to. Sometimes that is years later. Other times I get paid by a bank to save something from the wreckage. But that is rare. I usually turn the company around enough to get them going again.”

“What can you do? They can’t pay their suppliers. They can’t pay their staff.”

“And that happened suddenly? Do you know why?”

“The bank called in their overdraft with seven days notice.”

“And no one else would lend to them?”

Janet shook her head.

“That’s a usual situation for me. My only worry is that they are larger than those I normally deal with. Could you arrange for me to meet someone, with no preconditions? I can’t promise anything. Just meeting me commits them to nothing.”

“I could ring someone tomorrow morning.” Janet didn’t sound convinced. Why should she? She knew nothing of my work.

“One other thing, please Janet. Have you got enough time to run me into Plymouth in the next couple of days? I need a car and as you know the bus service from here only runs on Market days. I’d pay your fuel…”

“I know I’m broke, Ian, but…”

“Alan told me more than he perhaps should have…”

“He shouldn’t discuss my finances!” Janet shouted at me.

“Not even with his brother? Who is your friend?”

Janet started crying. I picked her up, trying to hide the pain from my leg, sat down with her on my lap and let her cry against my shoulder.

Eventually she dried her tears but stayed leaning against me.

“I don’t know what I’m going to do. When I pay the builders on Saturday I won’t have any money left in the bank. I owe for fuel…”

“I know. I can help…”

“I don’t want money from you. That would be like selling myself as a prostitute!”

“Janet,” I said, gently stroking her hair, “I have much more money than Alan and Angela.”

“You do? But they are better off than most of the locals.”

“Maybe they are. They can employ you. But until I left Africa I was employing thirty office staff. Now they are Marie’s employees.”

“Thirty?”

I nodded.

“They were helping me to turn companies around. They still will do that in Africa, but for Marie. I have to rebuild a team in the UK. All I have at the moment is a group of Estate Agents acting as my agents for property management in London. That’s a thought. Perhaps I could employ you, here, while I build up business in Devon.”

“Me? But I’ve got a job, Ian.”

“A job that has laid you off, isn’t paying you, and has left you deep in the mire.”

“That’s all true, but they were good to me.”

“And perhaps they can be again. Maybe I’ll ask to borrow you.”

“Borrow me?”

“Yes, Janet. If I am going to try to sort them out, your knowledge of the company and their people could help me. If I arrange your secondment to me, I would pay you while they have laid you off. That will reduce their debts by a tiny amount.”

“Being paid sounds good – as long as I am being paid for secretarial work not encounters in bed.”

We changed the subject. Both of us were disappointed with Alan and Angela’s casual attitude to Dorcas’ changes. We agreed that something needed to be done about Dorcas, but the more urgent problem was the failing company that employed so many local people.

Janet suggested that when we went to fill up the LandRover I should look at the filling station’s used cars before going to Plymouth. I agreed that it would be sensible to see what was available locally before driving a distance that might shake up my damaged leg.

We went to bed – together. We settled for a snug cuddle entwined around each other and slept soundly.

After breakfast Ja