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SUBTERFUGE By Geneva A young man meets and falls in love with a girl, one who has a secret and curious history with a strange agency. When it has trouble, he helps the agency avoid exposure, but wonders if he knows the whole picture. The place is England, and the time is the 1960's. START I had worked as an investment banker in the City for about three years after I finished university, but with these years came my gradual realization that the stress of the job, with its continual emphasis on the pursuit of money, the moral ambiguities and conflicts, and the bustle of London, its crowding, prices, fumes and noise, were not for me. I began more and more to wish for a way out. I was also feeling the breakup of a five-year relationship with Cynthia Caswell that had left me empty and depressed. We had begun our relationship when we met at university, both of us fresh, young and even idealistic and progressive thinking, so we thought, but she had become a business lawyer and the pressure of her job took its toll on her, and indirectly on me until we slipped into more and more conflicts, escalating to spats, getting more personal and nastier until we finally called it quits. The last straw, the thing that finally caused my break with my past life was that a black sheep in my family was discovered. It did not help that my uncle and I bore the same name either and, when the connection was exposed, courtesy of a rival at the bank, my boss suggested that it would be better if I resigned from my position. With all of this, I was close to a breakdown. I had fussed around for a bit at my flat, trying to keep busy, feeling sorry for myself and drinking too much when, a week later, there was knock at my door and I opened it to see Uncle George. I just stared at him, at a loss for words. It was partly because of his life my own was falling apart, and yet it was not anything that he had deliberately done to me. I stood in a dither of indecision whether to invite him in or to tell him to shove off when he pushed past me and I followed him back into my flat, taking a good look at him. It was a year or so since I had last seen him. I could see the resemblance to my own deceased father. George was younger, but looked older, paler and more haggard. He also showed a slight stoop. Five years in prison would do that. His clothes looked just a bit shabby too and he had a two days growth of beard. "Shut the bloody door!" he ordered. "You don't want everybody to hear us!" He looked me up and down. "I heard you'd been sacked. I was going to take you out for a drink but it looks as if you've already had too much. " He was suddenly solicitous and his voice softened "Look, take care lad. Booze doesn't help in the long run, eh? So, what now?" He shook his head. "Look, I'm sorry this happened. Your life shouldn't have suffered because of me. Yeh, I can't even help you get back your life. All I can do is commiserate with you." "Thanks for coming, Uncle." "Well, what do you think you'll do now?" "I don't know, but I was getting a bit fed up too with the banking job anyway. Now, I suppose I 'd better get off my rear and look for something else to pay the bills. The bank will probably give me good refs, as I was doing well until this but still, the word will get around that I've a person like you in the family tree." Uncle George gave a hurt look. "Yeh, I'm not the most shining light our family has produced. Anyhow, any ideas what you'll do? How are you off for cash?" "I'm fine for money at present courtesy of Great Aunt Mary, but it won't last that long. And as for what I'll do, maybe I'll take a complete change." I had been a bit lucky, if that is the word, when I was informed that a widowed great aunt, Mary, my father and George's aunt, had died. She had no children, and had left enough money, even when shared with my two sisters, that could actually support me for a year or so provided I didn't go out and splurge on things like fancy cars. I had felt some sense of loss as I had liked Mary, but her bequest was a way of getting my breath, figuratively, and now, working out what I wanted to do with my life and maybe even breaking with the past. A new career direction was what I needed. "I need time to think. I have some ideas. But..." "Well, I've an offer for you! When old Mary died, I know she gave you and your sisters a bit of money. But none to me! Wise old girl! She knew I'd fritter it away. Yes, she was totally embarrassed by me. Still, she gave me her house. It's away out in Somerset. Maybe she thought if I could get away from my 'life of crime' as she called it, I'd turn over a new leaf, but it's not for me. I'm really a city bloke. "George, you look as if you need a break. And I feel I owe you something. What do you think if I signed over the house to you? You can take a break there. Stay a month or a year or whatever, the rest of your life if you want. Mind you, why a clever good looking bloke like you would want to spend the rest of your life out there is beyond me. Anyway, though, if you decide it's not for you, sell it. All I ask is that you split the money with me. It may help me in my advancing years, unless I'm a guest of Her Majesty again, prison, I mean." He sighed. "Sometimes I think I'm getting too old for this game." I was taken aback with his offer, but it was a way out. "Uncle George, that's very generous. It could be just the thing for me." "Yes, yes, you're going to say however can I thank you and all that rubbish! Nah, it's just that I think I owe you. You've always said hello to me, not like your stuck-up father. I tell you, maybe you can invite me down for a weekend or so occasionally and we can share a few beers. Or is it cider out there? All right then, I'll contact a solicitor and get the paperwork done, but it's you may have to pay him. Here's the keys." He looked round my one bedroom flat and sniffed. "Maybe you should tidy this place up too! It will help you sell it. "Then I'll be off! Oh yes, if I can do you any more favours let me know! Here, I'd better give you my address." He tore a page out of a notebook and wrote down a telephone number."If it's urgent, call this number. It's a pub I use. They'll be able to pass a message on to me. I'm a lodger with a widow, Mrs. Meadows. I keep her warm at nights and she keeps hinting we should get hitched but I'm not sure if I've reformed enough to be a good match for her! All right, Ta,Ta, then." I thought more about his offer that night. At school I had enjoyed writing essays and at university, even with the pressure of my business courses I had written some small articles then some short stories and had them accepted by magazines. Even the bank reports had caused me little trouble so I had toyed with the idea of being a writer. I felt sure that I could prepare for a new career and give myself over to developing and expanding my writing skills without the immediate pressures of working for a day-to-day living. A number of ideas and scenarios kept running through my mind and I had even toyed with the idea of a novel. Still, heeding my deceased father's advice, I had turned my back on a career as a writer and tried to make it in a 'proper job' as he described it. The very next day I put my flat on the market, put the little bit of furniture I had left from the break-up with Cynthia into storage until I could send for it, packed two cases with all of my clothes, took a taxi to the train station and set out for Somerset. Mary's house, my new house that is, was on the coast, nicely situated on a small headland that overlooked a gravelly beach not yet discovered by holidaymakers and that gave a good view over the Bristol Channel. With its position on lee side of a small hill and the beech woods behind the house it had reasonably good protection from any westerly gales. At first I liked the blustery west winds, seeing the sea whipped up, and the waves pounding the shore, but eventually decided the drama was for summer only. During that first winter, the storms blowing up the Bristol Channel blew through the house too and made it just a bit too cold. If I stayed there I would have to see to quite a few renovations, even plant an extra windbreak or two. About twenty minutes walk away there was a village, and the gravelled path leading to it did not cause too much problems to the suspension of the old Morris Minor I had bought. The village was small, but it had everything for my immediate needs, a grocery store, a butcher, a newsagent, an ironmongery that seemed to sell just about everything that wasn't human food, a small tea room and a small garage. The single village pub was a suitable a diversion when the isolation got too much even for me. The locals soon accepted me although some had actually seemed envious of my past days in the City. We often shared stories and anecdotes and I persuaded myself that I could use these to add life and detail to the novels I was still intending to write. I had visited Mary's house occasionally when I was younger, along with my parents and older sisters Grace and Emily. Mary had made us very welcome but to a young boy the location always seemed a bit too bleak and isolated. The beach did not have enough sand for sandcastles, and there were no ice cream stands! It was only, when I was older, that the tide pools, with their myriad of small sea creatures, seaweeds, and the variety of shore plants, gave me greater and greater interest. Now, with my changed circumstances, the isolation and absence of distraction was just what I wanted. The house suited me fine. It was a bit bigger than a cottage, but certainly not a mansion by any means. I had also inherited some of Mary's furniture and kitchen stuff and with the remnants of household stuff from my relationship with Cynthia and a few pieces I picked up from second-hand stores I was fairly comfortable. I had plenty time on my hands, though, and I got into the habit of going for long walks, enjoying the signs of the wildlife all around me. I liked especially the gulls with their wheeling flight over the seashore or where farmers had ploughed the fields. I remember the contests between the crows and gulls in the fresh furrows or at harvest time. I thought I would get inspiration for themes for the great novel I was going to write but there were always fresh things that caught, then diverted my interest, even the succession of flowers, the grasses and the trees, as the year wore on from spring through to autumn. Eventually I put together a small article from notes I had gathered about my rambles and on a whim I sent it to a nature magazine. To my surprise it was accepted and there was even an invitation to submit another. It did not pay a lot but I enjoyed writing them. I reasoned that it was good practise for my other writing. Those times I needed more of a break I took the car on small spins around the area, the Quantock Hills and Exmoor and occasionally to the small villages in the area. I'm not sure if I wanted variety or not but the character of all of them seemed like variations on the same main theme. I am not sure whether I found that reassuring or depressing. Usually the villages were not very busy, with only a few cars and pedestrians. One day I had stopped at a post office in a nearby village to get some stamps when a car drew up. The driver and his passenger did not get out immediately. It looked at if they were in some discussion and by his gestures it looked like he was encouraging the passenger to get out of the car. I noted that it was a young woman and the driver waited until she had climbed out before he headed to the post office door. He was a small man, dressed in a dark pin-striped suit, with an open raincoat over it and with a small hat. Apart from a small dark moustache and round spectacles he was unremarkable and I gave him a small nod as we passed. My attention had been drawn to the girl who had got out of the car. She had short dark red hair but especially I was taken by her face. She could have been very pretty, but its tenseness and rigidity spoiled her looks. She was standing by the other car door, her shoulders slightly hunched. Her pose too was stiff and mechanical. She looked very uncomfortable. When she got out of the car too, her movements had seemed awkward when she adjusted her skirt, as if not used to her clothes. With no further thought I climbed in my car and started home. Even in that second winter the isolation was no real hardship although I spent more time indoors. Besides, the short days made walking in the countryside in the gloom or darkness a potential hazard, especially near the pools, cliffs and tides of the seashore and I spent more time at home working on my articles. I was getting better at it and had compiled a list of things I could write about. As the days lengthened again I took up my longer walks again and, feeling in need of some company, I investigated various breeds of dogs and several kennels and finally became the possessor of Golden Retriever, a female, that I called Martha. Retrievers are docile, friendly dogs and she very much found my walks to her liking too, always exploring, but quick to come back when called. On our trips to the village pub too, she soon became a hit with the locals. One morning I decided to take action on an idea that had been in my mind, to walk with Martha even further afield and I headed along the seashore, keeping just above the high tide mark, to the next headland, about five miles to the west. It was early in the day and I would be able to get back well before sunset. The walk was not bad, although there was a moderate west wind. The gravelly beach was firm enough but, where necessary, if it was too loose underfoot or rocky, or where the sea came right up to the small cliffs, we headed to higher levels with their springy grass, filled with patches of summer flowers. Eventually we came across a small dirt path, nothing more than a track worn into the fine grass, that led to the top of the next headland and I decided to climb up that to see the view and have something to eat before heading home. In the deep pockets of my jacket I had a flask of water, a cheese sandwich and an apple for my lunch, and even a couple of dog biscuits for Martha. As I had hoped, there was a good view to the west and I could even make out the Welsh coast in the haze to the north. Then, just over the hill, I was interested to see a large house, most of it quite new by the signs of recent construction, but already set with a tarmac driveway, lawn, flower beds and even a vegetable patch behind. The new materials were a contrast to the aged weatherbeaten stone of the houses in the nearby villages. In the shelter of a rock it was pleasantly warm and I lay back against it to have rest out of the wind. I must have fallen asleep but I woke with a start at a whine from Martha. I opened my eyes to see I was not alone. A young woman was looking down at me, a look of concern on her pretty face that changed to relief when she saw me stir. Like me, she was dressed for outdoors. "I wondered about you. You looked so still. I wondered if you were ill." I grinned sheepishly. "No Miss, I was just having a nap. Actually, I'm surprised at myself. I don't usually sleep in the day. It must have been my hike. Maybe I'm out of practice. I should get more exercise." There was something familiar about the girl and I had to rack my brain before it dawned on me that she was the young woman who I had seen by the car in the neighbouring village some months before. Martha looked as if she had taken to the girl and was wagging her tail. "At least your faithful dog was watching over you, " the girl laughed. I thought she had a lovely laugh. Her manner seemed confident and open, entirely casual, with no hint of tension, a contrast from how she had been previously. "How did you get here?" she asked. "There are no roads here, other than the one that led to my house down there, and I didn't see you on it? I came up here for a walk and saw you just lying." "No, I walked along from the last headland along there. " I pointed east. "I've a house along there. Oh, I should introduce myself. I'm George. George Martin." "And I'm Ruth Evans." She held out her hand and I took it. It was slim and soft. She wore no rings. "Your accent, Miss Jones, I don't think you're from here!" "No, I'm Welsh actually. And I don't think you're from here either." "You guessed right. I'm a refugee from London." After that it just seemed natural to tell her about what had brought me to Somerset. I couldn't help looking at her as I spoke with her. She was average height, slim, with dark reddish hair, short enough to expose her pale neck. Her face was quite lovely, with a broad clear brow, fine eyebrows, and lively grey-green eyes, perhaps a bit more deeply set than most women. Her lightly freckled cheeks were just a bit red from the wind. Her nose was small and straight, over full lips and a small but definite chin. I was very taken with her. She was wearing just a hint of lipstick, just enough to colour her lips. When she smiled she showed even white teeth. Like me she was dressed for outdoors, with a slightly flared tweed skirt over sensible flat shoes and a half open zippered hiking jacket that hinted at a slim waist and the pretty bulges of her breasts. I raised my eyes to keep them from straying too much but she flushed slightly. "And how did you get here from Wales?" I asked. The redness on her cheeks became deeper. " Uh, Mr. Martin, it's a long tangled story. Um, I don't think you really want to hear it." She was clearly uncomfortable and I dropped it. "I'm sorry, miss, and please, call me George." "And I shall be Ruth to you." That seemed a funny way of referring to her name but I wondered if it was a Welsh way of talking. Just then I saw her look behind me and a slight wariness came to her face. When I turned around I saw a man making his way towards us up the hill. It was the same man I had seen with Ruth these months before. This time he was puffing, almost out of breath and red faced with exertion. His hair was dark, but his moustache and temples were flecked with a few white hairs. He was in a suit again, even with a regimental type tie over a white shirt. In contrast to the girl, his attitude showed suspicion. "Good morning, sir", he said, frostily. Martha must have sensed his attitude to as she sat attentively by me, just watching him, in contrast to her usual effusive welcome, even of strangers. "Good morning to you, too. I have come from along there." I gestured to the direction of my house. "I had a bit of a rest here and then I got talking with Ruth here. Oh, my name is George Martin." I held out my hand, hoping to show my goodwill. The man ignored my hand. "My name is Edward Lanchester, but do you know you are trespassing? This headland is part of the estate of the house down there. I own this land." There was no attempt at friendliness in the man's face and Ruth had bitten her lip. I was irritated by his attitude so I contented myself with just giving him a slight nod. "I'm sorry, Mr. Lanchester, I didn't know I was trespassing and as far as I can see, there are no boundary fences or walls to mark it. However, if my presence on your 'estate' is disturbing you then I shall bid you good day!" I rose and, giving the pair a small nod, I called Martha and we set off back down the hill to home. I had been offended by the man's rudeness, but I forced it to the back of my mind and to further distract myself I took Martha to the village pub for a meal and a pint that evening. Still, the girl had intrigued me and it seemed to me that we enjoyed each other's company. She was pretty too and it made me realize how much I missed female company. I wondered if there was any chance we could meet again without stirring a confrontation with Lanchester. Also, I wanted to find out more about the two and their relationship. So, later that week. I changed my routine and drove along the coast to the village that would have been closest to the supposed estate. There, the locals eyed me up and down, as they would any stranger. It was getting close to noon so I went into a pub and ordered a lunch and a drink. After eating an excellent Cornish pasty with chips and a cider I got speaking to the landlord when he had commented that he hadn't seen me before. "Travelling, are you, sir? " he asked. "Not really, I live a bit further back east along the coast and I just thought I'd explore a bit of the countryside. It's quite pretty. I'm fairly new to the area." "So you haven't been in the area long, sir?" "No, just a bit more than a year. I was in London before." He smiled knowingly. "I didn't think it was a local accent. Then it's quite a change from the bustle and crowds of the city, I'd imagine." "Yes, I enjoy the less hurried pace, not having to be always on the go, that and walks along the shore. In fact I walked to that headland over there last week. Good view from the top." "Any trouble there, sir?" He raised his eyebrows. "How do you mean? Yes, actually, I was warned off by a man, an Edward Lanchester. He said I was trespassing." "Oh yes, him! You see, sir, it used to be a popular hike from here, but after that new place was built, the owner, Lanchester, decided to keep us out. A pity, as it was a popular place for the villagers to walk to, but someone checked the property records and he seems to be in the right. So now we just keep away." "You know anything about him?" "Not really, sir. We'd heard the property had changed hands. There was an old decrepit building already on the site, then some of us noticed surveyors and what have you round it. Next thing we knew, the worst parts of the old place were totally demolished, and a whole pile of lorries arrived with building stuff and new additions went up. Some of the workers and tradesmen used to drop in here for a drink or two after the day's work, and one or two even took digs in the village during the construction. As you can imagine, people had all sorts of questions about what was going on but none of the workers knew what it was intended for. It's a bit big for a simple house, more the size of a small hotel, but they'd no idea what the gentleman does or what he uses it for. We see him around here occasionally, often on Tuesdays when he goes to the post office but I think he does the rest of his shopping in one of the bigger places. Pity, this village could use the business." I pretended to be casual, but I was curious." The size of a hotel? See many visitors there?" "No, That's the funny part. I rarely see anyone there but a large van comes and goes more or less weekly, and there's another van comes almost daily, from some wholesale grocery place and there are some cars in and out, but that's all." "So he's there by himself? Must be a lonesome sort." I was hoping he might know something of Ruth. "Not quite," He gave a slight shrug. "They don't employ any local people but I've seen one or two strangers around here who I think must work there. I've seen a young red haired young woman too, quite a pretty one, and some other young women too but never enough to get to know them. They all seem to come and go. One of the locals commented that any girls they'd seen all were good looking. Whoever hires there must have a taste for pretty girls " I wondered what the relationship of Ruth was to Lanchester, employee, relative or whatever. Certainly their personalities and manners were completely different. The following Tuesday I drove back to the village and hung around, as if exploring the place. I spent some time using a small tea shop, or browsing in a bookstore, all the time looking out on the street across from the post office. I was beginning to wonder if I was being foolish but at about three in the afternoon I saw a newish looking Ford come along the street and stop at the post office. Lanchester got out and I was delighted when Ruth got out too. Even better, she stood outside the post office while Lanchester went in. The assistant looked at me curiously as I threw down some money for some periodical at the counter, not even waiting for change then walked over the street as if I was going to the post office. At first Ruth idly looked at me then started when she recognized me. I was reassured by the pleasure in her face. "Mr. Martin, George, I didn't expect to see you here!" "Me neither," I lied. "I mean. I didn't expect to see you. I just thought I would take a drive here and spread my wings, as it were." "But you don't have your lovely dog with you today. Martha, is it?" "She travels fine, and she likes the car but I didn't know where I would end up or how long I'd be. What brings you here, Ruth?" "I came along with Edward, Mr. Lanchester. He has a regular mailing to do and uses the post office here." I looked round. "Are you in a hurry, Ruth? It's nice to bump into you again. Perhaps we could walk around a bit." Before she could reply we were interrupted by Lanchester, who had emerged from the post office. He glared at me. "Mr. Martin, your presence here is unwelcome!" I felt my temper rise but I spoke as casually as I could. "This is a village street. As far as I know it's for all to use. It's certainly not part of the small fiefdom you call your estate!" He glared at me and took Ruth's arm. "Come, we will leave this person!" But Ruth shook off his hand. "I have to do something, Edward. I'd forgotten, I need some stamps." "You can get them another time," he snapped. "No, I need them now." She disappeared into the post office, leaving me and Lancester in the street. His face had gone red and I wondered what he was going to do but just then the village policeman walked past. "Good afternoon, gentlemen," he said. "Nice day, isn't it." "Good afternoon," I said back, while Lanchester muttered something, "Everything all right, sir," he asked Lanchester, I detected just a touch of sarcasm. I wondered if he had had some earlier dealings with him. "No? Then I'll be on my way." Just then Ruth came back out of the post office. She headed for the car but as she brushed past me I felt her press something into my hand. "Good afternoon, Mr. Martin!" She had no sooner climbed in the passenger seat and closed the door than the car tore off. When it was out of sight, I opened my hand. There was a crumpled note with hasty writing. 'Lovely to see you. Be here on Friday, at this time. R.' The policeman had wandered back. "You know Mr. Lanchester, sir?" "Not really, but I was out a walk along the beach the other day and he warned me off the headland over there. He said it was his property." "Yes sir, he seems a bit concerned with his privacy. Still, that's his right, I suppose. You off home now, sir?" "Yes, I was just out a little drive. I have a place about five miles back along the coast." "Then have a good drive back, sir. It's pretty countryside!" I actually found myself excited about seeing Ruth again and on Friday I set out. I was early, and fretted a bit in case it was a fruitless trip, but almost exactly at two a small car drove along and stopped just by me. Ruth was alone. She rolled down the window. Her lovely red hair was controlled by a silk headscarf but a few wisps had escaped and hung prettily over her pale neck. "Hello, George, nice day, isn't it? Look, I don't want us to be seen together, not that many here are on speaking terms with Edward." "Does he know you're meeting me?" A wary look in her face told me the answer. "No, now let's go someplace a bit more private. Better get in!" When I climbed in beside her she put the car in gear and drove off. She looked sideways at me mischievously." I suppose it was a coincidence you were here the other day?" Faint heart never won fair lady, I thought. "No coincidence! To be honest, I wanted to see you and made a few enquiries with the locals here and it was a bit of luck too." "A resourceful fellow, aren't you," she teased. She set off out of the village, heading further west and then turned inland until we were in a small road in the Quantock Hills. She drew the car into a lay-by with some trees. "There, I think we're private enough here. So, George, how have you been? Still walking a lot?" "Actually, I have been thinking of you a lot." She raised her eyebrows. "You make a girl feel pleased, but tell me more about yourself. We were rather interrupted the other day." So I told her all about myself, my upbringing and my education, that my parents had died, but I had two sisters, one married and living in Durham. Another also married, but living in New Zealand, near Auckland. I told her about my past banking life in London, then my disillusionment, the circumstances of my resignation, even my failed romance with Cynthia, Uncle George's gift and finally coming to Somerset to recharge my batteries. I even told her about my small success as a writer. It just felt natural to tell her all and she did not seem bored in any way. She had turned her pretty face to me. I was taken with her red lips and the way her shortish reddish hair framed her face. The few faint freckles dotting around her nose just added to her freshness. She was wearing a flower patterned zippered jacket over a knee length tweed skirt, and pretty nylon covered knees peeked from its hem. "Come on, let's take a walk," she suddenly said. "I've got flat shoes on so I'll be okay." She climbed out of the car, swinging her dainty stockinged legs out first. We had walked for a half hour admiring the view and pointing out flowers and birds when she pointed to a group of rocks. "Over there! That flattish spot there looks dry. Let's sit down for a bit." The sun was on the rocks and it was warm enough so she unzipped her jacket to reveal a pale blue woolen jumper. I sat down beside her and when she turned to me, her lips were slightly parted and it was the most natural thing in the world to put my arm around her slim waist. I pulled her to me and we kissed. "Mmm," she said when we broke. She eased herself down onto her back and held her arms out again to me. With her wriggles her skirt had ridden up far enough to expose her darker stocking tops but she made no attempt to pull it down. She did not object when I eased her jacket more open. Her breasts made pretty bulges in her blue jumper. I pressed her chest, feeling the slipperiness of her bra underneath the fine knit material and the soft firmness of her breasts. I went slip my right hand underneath her top but she held it. "No, not yet. Let's just talk." "About what? You know, you haven't told me much about yourself and what you do, and one of the things, I am more than a bit curious how a person like you is associated with that rude man, Lanchester." She looked a bit glum and shook her head. "George, I wish you hadn't asked. Oh, Edward isn't so bad if you get to know him. He's doing an important job and it is very stressful as he needs to keep it very confidential. I've a job as one of his assistants so I can't talk about it either. I'll tell you sometime." This intrigued me even more, but if I wanted to establish a relationship with her I knew I had better not push her. "Does Lanchester know you're meeting me?" "No, not at all." "If he asks where you were, what will you say?" "That I needed some time to myself!" We lay on our backs, chatting and holding hands until she gave a grunt. "I think we'd better get back. It's getting cooler and Edward may be getting concerned." "Can I see you again?" I asked when we were back in the village. "I'd love to. We're a little busy at work but it should be fine. Let's meet here again next Friday. We can go for a walk again. And why don't you bring Martha? Oh, you don't have a telephone do you? In case I have to contact you." "Yes, I do now," and I gave her my number. "I debated a while about getting the telephone as I actually didn't want people contacting me." "Not even me?" "Oh, you'll be an exception, and I shall expect calls from you! It's just that as an aspiring writer and author, I thought it would be easier for all these publishers to contact me urgently." I grinned ruefully. "So far they haven't." "Tell you, George, give me your address too in case I need to write to you. " When I had passed it to her she looked around. "The coast is clear," and she and gave me a quick kiss on the cheek. "So, see you in a week." The week passed slowly, and I found myself thinking about Ruth a lot. So, trying to keep my mind off only her, I worked up another article for the nature magazine, and began to investigate writing one on the local scenery an history . That needed a trip into Taunton to the main library and a train trip into London for more research. The bustle in the city just reinforced my impression that I had made the right decision. The next Friday I was ready and waiting by my car with Martha when Ruth drove up. She gestured to her car and I nodded. "My car seats are totally covered with Martha's hair so it will be better to use yours." "Yes, good idea. If Edward saw dog hair on my clothes he might start asking." It was a lovely warm day and this time she had chosen a light summer dress and sandals. She was bare legged. This time we went up into Exmoor and stopped at an open area where Martha had a great time racing around and exploring. When we sat down she took my hand and squeezed it. " So what did you do over the last week, George?" I told her about my articles and my trips. She gave a slight gasp. "Oh, I wish I could have gone with you to London. I've heard so much about it." "Perhaps I can take you there." There, I had given her the invitation. I wondered if I had been a bit forward but her eyes lit up. She spread out a car blanket and we lay on that on our backs holding hands, enjoying each other's company. After a few minutes I felt her take my hand and place it over her breast and I dutifully lightly squeezed her. I felt her nipple harden under my touch. "Mmm, I've been thinking all week about you doing that." We kissed and I was tempted to slip my hand down her neckline or up her skirt, or both, but I decided I would let her lead. And we did not go any further. She was not in the village the next week and, after I had waited an hour, I decided to take a walk along the shore. I was a little taken aback to see that now a fence had been put up around the property. Still, the shoreline could not be restricted and the tide was out so I made my way along the shore. At one point, on another small rise, the house was just visible. As I studied it, a large van arrived at the gates which swung open, then immediately swung shut behind it as it passed through. It disappeared into a large garage attached to the house where door opened then closed immediately after the van had entered. Then, about an hour later the van drove back out. The vehicle was plain, with no identifying letters on it at all and it was too far for me to see its license plate. As nothing else appeared to be happening I trudged back to my car before the tide came in and stranded me. On the following Monday I had a letter from Ruth. 'Sorry to miss you, but I think Edward was getting suspicious. But I'll see you on this Friday? R. PS. By the way, was that you down on the shore?' So she had seen me. I was getting more and more curious even concerned about the secrecy and suspicion but I would have to let Ruth tell me in her own time. She was there the next Friday when I arrived and quickly hopped into my car. It was much cooler and windier and she was in her flower patterned jacket and the tweed skirt outfit again. Martha was on her immediately. "Hello Martha! Glad to see me, are you?" she spluttered. "Oh yes, George, how have you been too?" "Missed you," I said. She squeezed my hand. "So did I. I mean I missed you," and she leaned over and kissed my cheek. "There, dog germs on you too!" This time we headed to the seashore and walked along a small cove, idly examining and picking at what had washed up on the beach and looking into the tide pools. At length we sat down on the springy beach grass beside a gorse bush that gave shelter from the wind. As soon as I touched her she was in my arms and we sank onto the ground. She put her arms around my neck and pulled me to her and we kissed. My hand was in her jacket, then under her top, feeling the warm skin of her back and further up, her bra, just slightly tight against her smooth skin. '"Just a minute." She unzipped her jacket, then pulled up her jumper revealing a white bra. In seconds she had pulled that up over her breasts. They were beautiful, with their pale skin dotted with a few freckles and each tipped by a pinkish nipple and areola. She did not object when I dutifully kissed then licked each of her nipples. I heard her giggle then grunt with pleasure. My other hand was at her waist, then sliding down her skirt. Beneath the rough texture of her skirt her belly was flat and smooth and I felt the ridge of the hem of a girdle and on her thighs the hard little bumps of her suspenders. I slid my hand up under her skirt, past the smooth tautness of her stockings and stroked the warm smooth skin between her stocking tops and her girdle but she held my hand. "Very nice. I can see you like me but that's far enough." She put a hand at my own crotch. "Yes, I can see you're ready, but have patience, George." I kissed her breasts again then we just lay in each others' arms. When I commented that I needed to go into London again to see my publisher her eyes lit up." Gosh, London, I'd love to see it. I said that before, didn't I?" "So you would like to go with me this time?" "Yes, I really would. When would it be?" "Somewhere in the next two weeks." "Then I'd better check with Edward. We have a kind of lull at work just now. I think he'd agree." "Really? To you going with me?" She flushed slightly. "Yes, and look, George, Edward's put two and two together. He knows I am meeting someone, and when he asked I told him. Uh, I think he wants to meet you." "He sounds like a guardian. Is he?" She shook her head. "Not officially, but it's for security. He wants to know where I am, and that I am safe. Maybe, George, it would be a good idea if I arranged for us to meet?" "Yes... , but where? I get the impression that our meeting might attract some attention here. I tell you, what about the village nearer me? There's a teashop there and if that's not private enough we can go to my place. This is Friday. How about next Monday?" When she agreed I gave her directions. "I'll see you there." I spent a nervous weekend, much of it pondering on the nature of Ruth's relationship with Lanchester, and what business, apparently hush-hush, they were working on. I was waiting near the tearoom when the car drew up with Lanchester driving. I felt my stomach lurch as both he and Ruth got out. I noticed she was holding herself just slightly rigidly. Lanchester's lips were tightly compressed, as if he was preparing himself for an ordeal. This time his manners, if not friendly, were at least formally correct and we shook hands. "Thank you for meeting me, Mr. Martin. I apologize for my manners last time we met but I have to be careful and I was under some stress." I gave him a polite nod, still wary of what would come out. Lanchester looked round. "Yes, I think this place is suitably private." We had ordered some tea and scones. He took a sip of his tea, black, no milk, no sugar, and looked directly at me. "Mr. Martin, I think it is obvious that you and Ruth have established some sort of relationship. She tells me you know nothing of the work at our establishment. I believe her but I also had some .... aquaintances make enquiries about you and I am satisfied that you are as you seem, an aspiring writer, but a formerly in the banking business, who was given the house you occupy by an uncle, an uncle that has a criminal record." I sat back. "You obviously have access to a lot of information." He smiled slightly at my surprise. "You see, what we are doing is let's say, an experimental treatment. We are a kind of medical facility. Perhaps with some medicine, some psychiatry, a lot of psychology and some special counseling." "Oh," I said. "Who are the patients?" I noticed Ruth tense. "From all walks of life. These are troubled young people, and we treat them. The treatment takes some months but we have had a high success rate. And when they leave us they usually integrate well back into society. We have some cooperation with employers too, but we select employers based on the patients' attitudes and skills. We have had an over ninety percent success rate." "That is quite remarkable." I looked at Ruth and she blushed slightly. "George," she said. "I've discussed this with Edward. And I want to tell you something. I was one of the original patients, almost a guinea pig. But I can say that the treatment worked extremely well for me. So much so that I first helped with other patients, and then Mr. Lanchester offered me work and now I am a sort of assistant." "And very valuable she is too!" said Lanchester. "That, Mr. Martin, is why I am very solicitous of her welfare and who she meets." He looked at Ruth. "But, Mr. Martin, I can't say any more. It is still too confidential." "I understand." We spent the rest of the meeting talking about my own writing, my experiences with the house, my memories of London. Edward was originally from the Brighton area but had worked a number of years in London. "I'm going to London in a few days. I've invited Ruth to go with me." "Then I hope you both have a good time. I . ...um...am from a time when couples had to be more circumspect but,.... fashion and mores change." Then he offered me his hand. "I have to go now, George, if I can call you that." "I'm sorry, I have to got too. See you tomorrow." and Ruth tilted her face up so that I could kiss her. She squeezed my hand. The very next day we met in the village and this time I drove her to my house and showed her around then I made some coffee. Ruth looked round. "It was nice of your uncle to offer you this house. It has a lot of character. Yes, you manage quite well for a bachelor, but the place needs a woman's touch," she finally said. She gave a mischievous smile. " Yes, even a woman like me. That's a funny thing, the training I got emphasized neatness, but I seemed to take to it naturally." "What do you mean? That's a funny thing to say!" "Oh I'll tell you sometime. Anyway thanks for showing me around. I'd better go back now. Anyway, about our trip to London, I'll see you at the railway station." "I'll look forward to it!" I was already waiting at the Taunton railway station and had already bought the tickets when Ruth arrived, even driven by Edward. When she saw me, she gave me a wave and climbed out with a small case in her hand. I wondered if Edward would get out too but with only a quick nod of acknowledgement he drove off. This time Ruth was dressed in a grey fitted suit, over a crisp white blouse with black medium heeled shoes and tan stockings. She even wore a hat. I thought she looked business- like but still very fetching. We exchanged decorous kisses but she took my hand and squeezed it. "I'm so excited," she said. "Have you plans for what we can do?" "Well, the main thing is to see my publisher and that's tomorrow morning. I've booked a hotel for two nights. Oh yes, we're travelling as husband and wife and we're sharing a room." I said it as casually as I could but I was on edge in case she was offended. She laughed softly " Good, I'd hate to be tripping along a hotel corridor to you in my nightie. So you envisage a dirty weekend, do you?" I blushed slightly. "No, it's the middle of the week." I gave her a grin. I had bought second class tickets. Ruefully I thought that my budget didn't stretch to first class. In fact, we were lucky. Our compartment only had one other passenger in it and he got out at the next stop. Ruth immediately set herself closer to me and snuggled in, put her hand in mine and gave me a small kiss on my cheek. "Anyway, you never did say what we should do." "Well, it's your first visit. What do you want to do? We really should see Trafalgar Square, Whitehall, Downing Street, the houses of Parliament and the Palace, the Tower too. That could take a while. In fact it's probably too much. Unfortunately there's so much to see here. You can't see it all in a few days." The train was direct, but even so it took over three hours to get into Paddington. At least it was a short tube ride to the hotel near Trafalgar Square. Ruth looked suitably impressed with the map of the underground system. "My God, it's so big and complicated!" The hotel desk clerk barely looked at us as we signed in, other than the quick glances that any man would give to a pretty girl like Ruth. We had a quick meal then hurried out and spent several hours at the museum before heading back to the hotel to change for going out to eat. I had chosen a restaurant that had been a favourite when I lived in the city. I had my jacket off and was looking through the clothes in my case when Ruth slipped beside me, put her arms round my neck and drew me to a kiss. She had taken off her blouse and skirt and was in a white slip, lacy at the hem and around her bust. I could see her bra straps and underneath the outline of the cups pushing out her slip. It was wonderful being with this desirable woman and I put my hands round her waist, stroking down to her hips, feeling the firmness of her girdle and, sliding further down, the ridges of her suspenders. and the faint line of her stocking tops. I slipped the straps of her slip and her bra off her shoulders, folded the cups down and kissed the top of her breasts. "Mmmm," she moaned appreciatively but she broke the kiss and wriggled away from me. "Later!" She pulled out a black dress from her case, held it up to look at it then stepped into it and drew it up and over her shoulders. "Here, you can help me zip it up." I did so and she did her final adjustments. Her dress fitted nicely at her bust and waist and with a slight flare over her hips. She looked very elegant. She put on a string of pearls, checked her hair and touched up her makeup in the mirror and, apparently satisfied, slipped on her shoes. Their heels were an inch or so higher than her travelling pair and I thought they set off her slim legs nicely. "I'm about ready. Are you?" "Just my tie and jacket. It's warm and it's not raining so we don't need coats." It was not the fanciest of restaurants but the prices were reasonable, it was cozy and had a nice ambience and we were very pleased with our meal. Ruth was a lively and witty companion. "What's so funny?" she asked. "Nothing, you just look very attractive. I feel proud to have you with me." "I hope you're not looking on me as just an accessory." "No, that's for businessmen. I'm just a struggling author." After our meal we took a walk along the embankment looking at the sights and the traffic on the river and reading the inscriptions on the statues and it was time to get back to the hotel. We were hardly back in the room when we were in each other's arms. Wrapping my arms around her I pulled her to me and kissed her lovely soft lips. I took her lower lip in my teeth and nibbled and pulled at it then leaned down and kissed the side of her neck and the hollow below her jaw. Nibbling on her ear, I put my arms around her small waist then worked my hands down to the swell of her hips. "You look absolutely breathtaking, " I said, as I found the zipper at her back and slowly eased it down. She let her dress fall from her so that it puddled around her on the floor, stepped out of it and kicked off her shoes. She was in her slip and underneath I could see the outlines of her underwear and stocking tops. She put her arms around my neck, brushing her breasts against me then, standing a little back, she loosened my tie, slid it over my neck and unbuttoned my shirt. My hands were tight at her smooth girdled rear, stroking it. I slid the straps of her slip from her shoulders and it too slid to the floor. She pulled out my shirt, then removed it and unfastened my trousers. I kissed her again, pushing my tongue past her lips and teeth into her mouth and I felt hers play with mine. She was pressed against me, her bra on my bare chest, my erection pressed against her belly. She pulled down my underwear, giggling softly as she worked the waistband over my erection and she kissed the tip gently. "Now you can finish undressing me," she murmured softly. Fumbling just a little I unhooked her bra and slid the straps off her shoulders. It tumbled down her arms and to the floor. Her breasts were not large but were beautifully shaped and wonderfully soft and smooth. Each pink nipple was rigid in my teeth as I nibbled her gently then sucked her until she gasped. I pressed my hands under the front hem of her girdle into the springy hair underneath then with one arm at her waist and the other at the back of her thighs I lifted her onto the bed. I stroked the smooth skin between her stocking tops and the hem of her girdle then carefully, one by one, unfastened her suspenders and slid her stockings down, then eased the girdle down over her hip and thighs. Her belly was wonderfully white and smooth, contrasting with the dark red triangle of hair at her vee. When I moved over her she looked up at me expectantly , her mouth slightly open. Her nipples were rigid. When I ran a finger slowly down her belly to the soft hair and stroked in her groove she was swollen, moist and ready. She parted her legs. "George, I'm ready. You needn't bother with any condom. I want you and I've just had my period. So now I 'll be able to feel you in me and it will be better for you. But this is my first time. Be patient with me." My penis was at her soft entrance and I gently pushed. There was a slight resistance then she gave a slight gasp and I was fully in her. I waited a few seconds and began to move, gently at first then harder and faster until she was making little mewing sounds and her breath became faster and shallower. Her thighs spread even wider and her feet were over my own buttocks. Her fingers were clutching my back but I barely felt them. I put my hands under her rear and raised her to me. "Ahh!" she cried. "That's ...won...der...ful. Don't stop!" but that would have been impossible for me anyway. I drove into her harder and harder until I released and she gave small cries, tensing under me and clutching at me. We lay locked for some minutes then I slowly withdrew and rolled off her. She turned to me and played on my lips with her fingers. "The French call it the small death. I can see why. I was in another world, other worlds. Mmmmm. I couldn't believe how intense it was. Women definitely have it better than men." I was pleased that she had been pleasured so much but her comment intrigued me. . I was pleased and satisfied, but I could never know how a woman felt. And a woman could not know a man's experience. The next thing I knew was that it was light. I rolled over to the warmth beside me. Ruth was still asleep, tousled red hair covering her brow. I looked at my watch and almost jumped. We had slept in. She must have heard me and gave a small moan. "What's the matter?" "We've slept in," I gasped. "My appointment with the publisher is at ten. I'd better get moving." I had a quick wash and shave then I had the pleasure again of watching her dress and put on makeup. This had been a routine part of my life when I lived with Cynthia. I had enjoyed it but it was a clue to our deteriorating relationship when her drawn out and elaborate preparations began to irritate me. By contrast, Ruth's seemed much fresher and natural. We ran down for a hurried breakfast at the restaurant by the hotel then it was time for me to go. "You should be able to wait in the publisher's office. I hope I won't be too long," I suggested. Ruth shook her head. "No, I'd like to look around on my own and do some shopping. I feel I can find my way around now so why don't I meet you, let's say back here at noon or as soon as you can get here." "All right," I gave her a quick kiss and hurried along to the nearest underground station. My business with the publisher went well and when I managed back to the hotel at noon Ruth was waiting for me. "How did you get on at the publishers?" she asked. "Well, I have a couple of country guides in mind and they are mildly enthusiastic about them. They even gave me a small advance. But that means I'd better get my ideas together and start work! "How about you? Did the shopping go fine?" I nodded to some large bags on the bed. Each had the name of one of the big department stores on it. "Yes, I had a great time. There's such a great variety. A girl could spend a lot here, if she had enough money. So, what now?" "Lunch, then sightseeing, then dinner and a surprise for you." "What's that?" "I told you it's a surprise." "But I have to know what to wear!" she protested. Giving me an exasperated look she fumbled in one of her bags and drew a dress. She held it against herself. "Will this be dressy enough for what you have in mind?" It was a long evening dress in a silvery greyish green and she looked very attractive. "You'll look great! Yes, that will be fine." After lunch we had a great afternoon walking around a bit, then after a quick look at some art galleries and museums, Trafalgar Square and Whitehall we were done and we rushed back to the hotel. "I have to change," she announced. "So I'll do it in the bathroom. No peeking!" She took her two bags of purchases with her. She seemed to take an inordinately long time in the bathroom but when she emerged she looked stunning and I told her so. She was wearing the new dress, but had changed into black stockings and shoes. She wore a bit more makeup too, a bright red lipstick, and she seemed to have changed her hairstyle a little. She pouted slightly. "I wanted to put my hair up, but it's not quite long enough." I was bowled over by her fresh beauty. "You look stunning!" I said. "Thanks, a girl likes to hear these things. All right. What next?" "Well, eat first, then the surprise." "And I've a surprise for you too." She gave a smug smile. The meal was a great success but I glanced at my watch. "It would be nice to linger over dessert but we have to watch our time." "For my 'surprise?" "Yes, we're close. It's just around the corner." When I showed her the tickets I had bought for the theatre she gave a squeal of delight. I had wondered what show to get tickets for but eventually I had settled on a musical and by her delighted happy face during the performance I saw I had made the right decision. It was just after the closing number and the applause was tailing off that she leaned into me. "Thank you, George, that was a wonderful surprise. Did you enjoy it too?" "Very much so. Now, we'd better get back." I had decided to splurge on a taxi and it was short ride back to the hotel. I noticed the hotel doorman's appreciative look as we climbed from the taxi. "You looked very elegant." I said as I put my arms round her waist and kissed her. I had felt her bra when I had undressed her the previous night but I was puzzled when I could not feel the same ridges. She kicked off her shoes and slid my jacket off. I was about to unzip her but she took my hand. "Let me lead, this time" and she undressed me as far as my underpants. "Now you can unzip me," she said. I slid her back zipper down and she let her gown fall off her shoulders. She carefully gathered it and folded it over a chair. "You like it?" she asked as she pirouetted slowly in front of me with a pleased smile. "I had fun shopping today. It's not the kind of outfit I would have been able to buy locally. Probably I wouldn't have wanted to anyway, in case the shopgirls included it in their gossip." She was dressed in a strapless black basque, one that flattered her slim waist. Black suspenders stretched over her lacy black underwear and pale thighs to the tops of her sheer black stockings. The cups pushed up her breasts, showing an inviting cleavage between them. I felt stirrings down below. "Yes, very much. You look so sexy. It seems a shame to have to take it off!" "I'm sure you'll have no problems." She was ready but I took my time, undoing the bits and pieces slowly and kissing her as every fastening was loosed and every new part of her skin was exposed. Finally, when we were naked and in each other's arms I softly kissed her neck and down past her soft breasts and belly. As I got to her vee she squealed slightly as I licked her. I slid my hands under her hips, lifted her and licked her deeper until she gasped. Soon she was squirming. "That's enough! I want you in me." "You're ready?" "Yes, get on with it!" Once more I plunged into her, moving until she was gasping then I could not control myself any longer and I released into her. Her hands were clutching my back and her feet pressing me. She gave a small cry, her own shudders matching mine. "Oh George, that was wonderful!" We lay in each other's' arms for about a half hour. It was warm and we only needed one sheet over us. I took her in my arms again, pulling the softness of her breasts against my chest. I kissed a nipple again and it immediately hardened under my touch. Her hand went to my crotch and, "I think you're ready again too, but let's try something different," she murmured. She turned over to her knees then straddled me. I felt her take my penis and guide it to her then she sank onto me. She leaned over me, her breasts hanging from her chest like ripe fruit, her nipples grazing my chest as she kissed me, her tongue finding mine. Easing her up I gently sucked on her nipples. She straightened and began to slowly move up and down on me. I put my hands on her breasts, lifting pressing and kneading them and teased her nipples again, rolling and pinching them. Her movements became faster and faster until I felt another climax build and I released into her. "I think it get's better each time," she breathed in my ear. We actually made love again the next morning but this time, when we were ready, she rolled over and knelt in the bed. "Now I want you to come behind me. " Her shapely hips were in front of me and her woman's parts were exposed, engorged and inviting. "Now come into me that way," she said. "I've heard it's a good way." She was moist and I entered her easily. I did not move right away. I leaned forward and slid my hands underneath her, testing her ripe breasts hanging from her chest and lightly pinching her nipples. Then I began to move slowly and, as my need took me, faster and faster. She was grunting and gasping in pleasure. When I released into her she climaxed almost simultaneously, squeezing me. "Mmmm. I love the feel of you in me. It felt very deep." However, we were running late and after a fast wash we dressed, rushed through breakfast, signed out of the hotel and made our way to Paddington. We were not so lucky on the way home. We had to share the compartment with a middle aged woman and a spotty faced small boy who stared at us disconcertingly for most of the journey. I wanted to talk to Ruth about our future but it was not time and we merely held hands, occasionally interlacing our fingers. We got off the train at Taunton and walked to the nearby car park. As we climbed in to the car, Ruth snorted. "I'm sure that woman was wondering if we were married, probably suspected we had been for a few dirty days in London. I made sure to keep my gloves on so she couldn't see if I had a ring." It was the right time. "Would you like a ring? " I asked. "I mean, would you marry me?" I was rewarded with a great smile and she leaned over to me. "Yes, of course I'd love to." Then her face suddenly went serious, and she bit her lip. "George, you've been very patient with me. I think it's now time to tell you more about myself. Let's go to your place and I can tell you." I was intrigued but I first had to get Martha from the kennel and we both had to endure an enthusiastic welcome. My place was as I had left it but after opening a few windows to air it we settled down with a cup of tea. "George, I think it's time I told you about me. I don't know how to begin but let's just say that working at the place along there has changed my life. "You see, after I finished school I was drifting along, and got into bad company and had a bunch of minor scrapes. My parents had died when I was young so I had no immediate family for help or to guide me. I don't blame them, but a series of foster homes didn't help either. Finally, I was nicked for a more serious offence. "In fact, I had appeared before a judge and it looked as if was about to be sent Borstal for a spell. Then along came some official, a woman, Mrs. Samson, Joan was her name. We've become quite good friends since, I think. At first I didn't pay much attention to her but she asked me a bunch of questions and even gave me a bunch of physical and written tests. I think they were a combination intelligence and personality tests. At first I thought it was a bit of a lark but if it had a chance of keeping me out of Borstal I decided to take it seriously. "A week later that same woman and Henry came to where I was being detained, sat down with me and made me an offer. It was so strange, so ridiculous, that I laughed at them and told them to stuff it. Still, they seemed completely serious. They said they'd give me a day to think about it. "Looking around at the dismal walls of the cell that night the thought of the alternative to their offer suddenly hit me. I didn't fancy a year or so behind bars so I agreed to their terms. They said I was to be sent to a place for a special treatment that they hoped would cure my delinquency. If I tried the procedure, the criminal charges against me would be stayed. Stayed, not dropped. I wondered if they were going to keep the threat over me." "Yes, prison would be no place for a young woman." Ruth gave me a strange smile. "What was the programme?" "It's a long strange story. I don't have all the details but it started from a spy investigation two or three years ago. You see, MI5 and other agencies had used a strange new procedure on Eastern Bloc spies or agents, to disorient them, get them so confused that they were easily broken. Apparently it was very successful and more than one spy ring was cracked. "I was told that then someone had the bright idea to use it on young criminals, to disorient them, get them out of a pattern of crime and set them into honest professions and jobs. It seems I fitted the bill. I was the first guinea pig. "However the government was careful. The programme was set up so that it could be disowned if ever there was any publicity. The Prison Service couldn't keep things under wraps as well as the Intelligence agencies so they were very cautious." "This is getting more and more mysterious!" "I'm nowhere done yet." She took a deep breath. "They had a lot of trouble at first getting the method to work. The, let's say, procedure, and instructions had needed a lot of experimentation and trial and error. Eventually they got it more or less right and they began to see positive results. That's where I came in." "Yes, I suppose the psychological conditioning needed a lot of fine tuning." "It was a bit more than that, a bit more. The psychology, training, and counselling came a little later to the main part. You see George, you're going to find this hard to believe me but the main part was a procedure that makes men, young men into young women." I sat up wi