Reginald's ChildrenChapter 11 free porn video

Chapter 11

Puzzled, he informed her, “Yes. I just lifted them straight out, then moved them into the trench I prepared for them. They just felt right, the way they were. Why?”

“They felt right, as the base was heavier than the rest of the concretion, that’s why. I have looked at both of these, and there is a glint of gold showing on each base. Gold is heavier than silver, so there is a natural tendency for the find to sit in that orientation. I suspect the gold coins – from what I saw, they are coins – were placed in first, and then the silver ones to cover them. It would hide the fact that there was gold present, if anyone saw the bag of coins. It is a sensible decision to place them in a bag that way.

Reg, I now need to photograph the underside of each concretion. Can you hold each one up again, and this time hold it steady with the base facing me, so I can get a good shot?”

Reg flexed his arms for a moment, to prepare, and then lifted the first one as she directed. It did not take her long to take the picture, then he replace the lump and moved to the second one. It too was quickly pictured, and he was able to put it down safely.

“What now, Mrs Newsome?” He was sure of her marital status, as he had earlier noted the wedding ring on her left hand.

“We have to weigh each find. I have a set of scales in the car for that purpose. I also have to fetch two plastic boxes and packing material from my car. I’ll do the packing in here, for convenience, and then we can carry the boxes to my car boot. There are good handles on the boxes.”

The weighing was done quickly. She explained that detailed accuracy at this point was less important due to the presence of soil and other detritus that would be included in the concretion.

It turned out she had what looked to be felt blankets to wrap round the concretions, then once each was in a box, it was stuffed around with quantities of plastic bubble-wrap to absorb any movement in the box. The second was done likewise. With the boxes having handles, she and Reg could easily carry one box at a time to the car and place them in the boot. There she had inbuilt straps to hold the boxes in position while she was transporting them back to York.

With that done, they went back inside the house for Reg to fill out a Finds report for each concretion, as to when and how he found it, and the depth at which found. This included his name and address, age, phone number, email addy, general location of the Find – the farm name and its address – then the GPS location on the farm. She next completed the description for him, as she knew the terms to be used and which details to be applied. She got Reg to read it through, with her explaining as they went, so he would know what it all meant.

She next had to obtain the details of the owners of the field, and their agreement as to their share of the find’s value. Next, signatures and dates for both parties to the agreement. She explained the procedures that would have to be gone through before any financial offer was made to the parties. Reg was already aware of that, from his previous experience. He asked for, and was transferred into his own phone, a copy of each of the photographs she had taken.

Finally, she was ready to leave, and handed over her card, so that they could contact her at any time for an update on progress.

They waved her off on her trip back to her York office, and went inside. Reg found that Jessica and Sidra were in the kitchen with Mrs Robson. Sidra was learning about the various farm-sourced ingredients, and how they came to be ready for use. When Reg entered, Sidra rushed to him to explain how the carrots were grown from seed in drills in the field, and how sandy soil was best for carrots. She had been told how other vegetables were grown: parsnip, turnip, kohlrabi, kale, cabbage, and so on. Sidra had been surprised to discover that Brussels sprouts were grown in England, just like cabbages, and that the sprouts were like little cabbages growing on the sides of the plant stalk.

Reg was surprised that this was new to her, then twigged that most vegetables appeared magically in the supermarket, with no data on the growing of them. He pointed out that Brussels sprouts seemed to have appeared for the first time in Belgium in 13th century records. He explained that many foods had place names attached to them, indicating a strong historical association; like Parmesan cheese, and Parma ham; Bath buns and Arbroath smokies – smoked haddock.

He asked Sidra was she aware that milk came from cows? She blushed and said, “I do now, Reg. Charlotte took me to see the cows and explained how they were milked. It comes out of their udders – things like breasts, through teats – long nipples.”

Reg smiled. “So, just like a baby gets milk from its mother?”

“Yes, but it looks so different. Mrs Robson says it comes out in long squirts if you do it by hand, but it is almost all done by machines now. Sounds horrible!”

Charlotte added to this knowledge, “Cows only give milk once they have given birth to a calf, Sidra. Cows are bred by us to produce large quantities of milk, so that the calf still gets its share, but we humans get most of it, sold through the shops.”

Jessica added, “Sidra, that is one of the difficulties about becoming a mother. Your breasts fill with milk, and you have to feed your baby regularly or your breasts get sore. Women who have to be away from their baby for a while might express their milk using a breast-pump, which is not too different from what is used to extract milk from cows. The expressed milk is then given to the baby, giving it a regular feed.”

Sidra grimaced, “Yugh!” and turned to her mother, “You’ll have to do all that?”

Her mother said, “Of course. It is one of the joys of being a mother. Having a baby means taking on all the responsibility that it entails, Sidra. Not so keen on the idea now?”

Sidra was silent. Jessica smiled to herself, satisfied that her point was taken.

Mrs Robson looked at Jessica enquiringly, and raised her eyebrows in query. Jessica took notice, and gave in.”Yes, Charlotte, I may be pregnant, but it is by choice.”

Charlotte frowned. “I thought you said you were separated from your husband?”

“I am.”

Sidra tapped Mrs Robson on the arm. “Reg. She got Reg to do the job.”

“Reg? He of the many wives? Why?”

“By the time I gave birth to Sidra, I had discovered what a brute my husband was, so I determined not to have more children he might eventually beat. Now that we are free of him, I want more children while I can, and Reg was to my mind suitable. His wives approved of my decision and my request to them.”

“So you got Reginald to get you pregnant? You must like him a lot, to ask that of him and his wives.”

“He is a very lovable young man, and quite fertile with it. All his wives are pregnant.”

“ALL of them?”

“Yes, all five.”

“I thought you said he had four wives.”

“He did, but another girl asked to join the Commitment, and eventually the wives permitted her to join, so it is five.”

“So is number five as facially challenged as the others?”

“No. She is pretty normal, but had a bad family life after her widowed father remarried. She and her stepmother hate each other, it seems. She is happy now, and lives with the rest in the large house they have.”

“Yes, I understand Mr Robertson struck it rich at our nephew’s farm.”

“He did, to some extent, but the house they live in belongs to the father of one of the girls. He is glad to have the Robertson family staying there, as it is a long-term investment for him, and a lived-in building is not the worry that an empty building can be.”

“That’s true, especially in an urban setting. My nephew told us about where Reg was living: he was impressed. A large building, he said.”

“Yes, it is. We have been made most welcome there.”

Mrs Robson gave a start. “Oops. Need to get that lunch ready, Jessica. Let’s get back to it, eh?”

As they worked to prepare the meal, it occurred to Jessica that the two daughters were not present to lend a hand.

“Charlotte, are your daughters not able to prepare food? Excuse me if I am out of order, please.”

“A sore point, Jessica. These girls imagine that everything should be laid on their plate, and that they shouldn’t have to labour in any way.”

“Gosh. Back at Reg’s home, everybody mucks in to prepare things. We have the twins who are nominally cook and housekeeper, but all the girls are happy to help with anything that needs doing. It is only their studying that stops them doing more.”

“Perhaps I should send my two to the Robertson household for relationship training?” She laughed as she said this, but there was a hint behind her laugh that she was semi-serious. She clearly felt her girls were not pulling their weight.

“I don’t think you would get a response from Reg to that suggestion. He would want to refer it to his wives for a decision. That man involves his wives in most decision-making, and they let him participate before they decide by themselves what they want to do.” Jessica smiled as she said this, even though it was accurate.

“Hmmm...” was all Charlotte would say in reply.

Reg was in the farmhouse living room, chatting with Charles, while the two daughters listened politely to the dialogue, then the pair gradually lost interest and wandered off to find another conversation more of interest to girls. Reg was quizzing Charles about the difference in how farming here differed from what his nephew did.

Charles Robson explained, “Part of it is down to the type of soil, which is dependent on the underlying geology. You may have a soil which is primarily clay, or primarily sand, or perhaps a good loam; but that is a tiny part of the whole. There is the question of height above sea-level, as that affects what will grow well, and weather conditions in the locality: whether you get a lot of sun on your fields, or have a hill causing a shadow. Then you have the question of arable, pastoral or mixed. That affects what you do in the way of manuring, crop rotation, and so on. Finally, there is the matter of knowledge, education. My nephew is a geology graduate and that background imparts knowledge about how to farm his land more efficiently and effectively.

I would happily admit he knows better than me how to run a modern farm. I grew up as a farmer and run this farm based on the knowledge I built up over the years as I grew up, watching my father, and then my elder brother.”

Reg was fascinated. “So there is no single correct way to run a farm?”

“None. Some farmers are trying new breeds of cattle and sheep; other have introduced deer, alpacas, ostriches, and other new species such as water buffalo. These farmers are still learning, but they have developed a market for their produce, and will probably thrive, farm subsidies or no farm subsidies.”

“Wow. I still learn something new every day.”

“Your Jessica said you were much into education, so I am glad to hear we can still teach you things.”

“Sir, there is too much out there NOT to learn something every day. And please, she is not MY Jessica; she is her own woman, making her own decisions about her life, now that she is free to do so.”

“Free?”

“More or less. She escaped from an abusive husband, so is still hiding from him. We are helping, and she is enjoying taking charge of her own life again.”

“I presume that applies to her daughter as well?”

“Indeed. In fact, it was Sidra who first ran away from home when her father started beating her as well. She was found by kind people, and we were asked to look after her, sort of as a place of refuge, as we had the space and could offer protection. We are home-schooling her for her school exams. I am hoping she will get good enough results to go to university. We will finance her there, if she gets in.”

Charles gave a grunt, and said, “I wish our girls had studied more, and achieved better results. They have turned into a couple of layabouts, and I can’t even see signs of them getting married. Putting on weight hasn’t helped either.”

“How old are they, sir, if I may ask?”

“Jemima is twenty and Hermione is twenty-one, almost twenty-two. There is eighteen months between them. I worry about these girls and their future. They don’t fancy farm work, yet there is no indication of them doing anything else.”

Reg thought about these young women. While not exactly pretty, they had pleasant, homely faces, just like their mother, and both had reasonably good figures, even if the elder one was letting her weight creep up far too much, and her sister seemed to be following her. He did not see signs of innate badness, so he assumed they simply had no goals in life, and were letting things slip.

He asked his host, “Charles, could I suggest that your girls come and live at our house for a while? The reason for that proposal is that I think my wives and staff might be able to instil some ‘get up and go’ into them. If we can’t do something along these lines within three months, we will return them to you, regretfully. I will hate it if I am wrong!”

“Young man, I am astonished that you would make such an offer. It does appeal. Let me speak with Charlotte, to see what she thinks, and I will let you know later. When do you go home? I am assuming you have finished with your detectoring, as you have found a substantial hoard.”

“I had allowed myself two days of searching, sir, and this is the second day, so I think it is not worth searching the remainder of the field; not unless another coin turns up in another part of the field!”

“So you are going back to your hotel this afternoon?”

“That is the plan. Before we go home I want Jessica and Sidra to see some more of Scarborough, such as the Castle and the harbour.”

“How about if I ask you to take Hermione and Jemima with you to town as your guides, to let them get to know you? If we decide they are to go with you, I want to be sure that they do not actively dislike you!”

“Sounds a wise approach, sir. I am happy to oblige. I could bring them back to you and get your decision around tea-time.”

“Fine. Let’s leave it at that. I’ll tell the girls about going in to Scarborough with you. Will there be enough room in the taxi?”

“When I ring the driver, I’ll warn him, if there are to be five of us.”

“I expect there will, if for no other reasons than getting to know you.”

At this point they were called to lunch by Mrs Robson.

“Come along, boys. Come and see what Jessica and I have prepared for you: Mutton chops, Pakistani style.”

“Sounds interesting,” commented her husband. Reg added, “Jessica is a good cook, so they should make a fine meal together, Charles.”

Jessica came round to join Charlotte, and said, “We had to make a few adjustments to take into account what ingredients Charlotte had available, but we tasted the result, and I was happy with it.”

The Robson sisters were called, and slowly everyone was seated at the dining table, and Charlotte brought out the casserole dish with the chops. She dished out portions for each member of the family and the visitors. Sidra was first to dive into her meal, and sample it. She said, surprised, “Hey, this is different from usual, but tastes great!”

The others were quickly trying their food and soon started clearing their plates. There was enough to allow for small second helpings, until the casserole was emptied.

Charles was eager to tell his wife, “That was delicious, Charlotte and Jessica. We should have this again. Get Jessica to give you the recipe, dear.”

Reg was equally impressed. “Jessica, that is a very worthwhile recipe. If you have adapted it anew today, keep a note of it. It might be worth selling to one of the companies that market ready meals.”

“Thanks, Reg. Mrs Robson and I worked together on it, so it is a joint recipe, to be accurate.”

Charles meanwhile had spoken to his daughters.

“Girls, I want you to go into Scarborough with Mr Robertson, Jessica and Sidra. Show them some of the sights and get to know Reg better. I may have a suggestion for you girls when you get back home. Reg will ensure you get home safe.”

The two girls were puzzled at this sudden enthusiasm for visiting town, and with their visitors. They decided that their mother and father wanted to be alone with adequate privacy, for some reason, so they went along with the request, having nothing else to do at the time.

Charles Robson told his wife that their girls would be going into Scarborough with the three guests, and that Reg would ensure their safe return home. Reg phoned the taxi firm, and explained that there would be an additional two adults for the trip back to Scarborough. The firm happily told him that all their cars could seat five comfortably, and asked when he wanted the taxi to be at the farm.

He checked with Mrs Robson as to when the girls would be ready to go, and gave a time to the taxi firm.

The girls dressed warmly, as it was still winter, and the taxi arrived, ready to load them all aboard. Reg told the driver they wanted delivered to the hotel, and he soon had them there; it was only a few miles into town.

Getting out of the taxi, Reg escorted the ladies into the hotel and up to their rooms. He showed the Robsons around his and Jessica’s room and got them to sit while he ordered drinks for them all. He asked what each wanted to drink, then phoned down the order to room service.

While waiting for the drinks, he asked the two sisters to tell him a little about themselves.

Hermione led off, speaking for both, as the elder sister.

“We went through primary school and then high school, and got reasonable certificates, but neither of us had any ideas about a career. We like hanging about together, and occasionally going into Scarborough to meet other school friends, and having a laugh. We have a regular appointment at our hairdresser, who also does beauty treatments.”

“Do you not want to do anything around the farm?” Reg asked.

“That smelly place? It is either beast manure smells or tractor engine oil stinks; we don’t want to have to deal with that.”

“What about domestic tasks, helping your mother? Surely that is more to your liking?”

“Drudgery, as far as I can see it!”

“So how do you see your life in the future? Sitting around doing nothing much and depending on your parents to provide the cash for your entertainment?”

Hermione stared at Reg in surprise, and spoke slowly, thinking about her words.

“I don’t know: I haven’t thought about it much.”

“I see: a life of watching TV, listening to music, getting yourself prettified regularly, and going out with the girls. What about boyfriends?”

“Haven’t met one that interests me yet. Neither has Jemima. I constantly get afflicted with references to the Harry Potter books and films, so boys who mention that get the bum’s rush: mere kids, in my opinion. Neither of us is in a hurry anyway to give up our freedom for a man’s benefit.”

Reg commented, “Interesting, wouldn’t you say, Jessica?”

Jessica gave a grin and said, “A pretty short-sighted outlook on life, I would say, Reg. Limited intellect, limited ambition, limited prospects; a sad life eventually. Sidra has a far more interesting set of experiences, and she is only sixteen.”

Jemima and Hermione looked over at the teenager. “Her?” demanded Jemima. “She looks terribly normal. What has she ever done?”

“You mean, apart from putting up with being beaten by an abusive father, running away from home, abandoning schooling, and taking up home-schooling where she has to basically teach herself? Nothing much else, I suppose, apart from casting eyes on a married man.”

“Eh? She fancies a married man? Why? That sounds stupid.”

“Yes, with your limited experience of life, I expect it sounds that way; especially as the man has five wives and a girlfriend already!”

“Good God, woman! That sounds pretty weird, not to say illegal!”

Jessica accosted her, “Explain what you mean by illegal, Hermione.”

“Well, marrying five women; that is illegal.”

“I didn’t say he married them, Jemima. I simply said he had five wives.”

“You are just spitting hairs! English law says you can only marry one woman.”

“Exactly. He hasn’t gone through a legal wedding with anybody, though. They have all committed themselves to be his wives, and are treating him as their husband. They are all happy to do so.”

“Just a private harem, then?”

“If any of them were here, Jemima, you would get a strong telling-off. They all love him; I have seen it for myself: it is a true marriage.”

“You have? Who is this paragon that can get five women to throw themselves at him?”

Jemima gazed at the woman, shaking her head at such denseness.

“You were speaking to him a minute or two ago, girl.”

Both sisters swung round to stare in shock at an amused Reg. “What? This guy? The treasure hunter? He is younger than us: I don’t believe it!”

Reg told them, blushingly, “I can hardly believe it myself, I can tell you!”

“You have five women fawning over you?”

“Not quite. Rather, I have five women telling me what to do, and how to do it!”

“And you are running around with a girlfriend on top of that?”

“I expect you could use that allusion, but it is not quite what is the reality. My wives approved of me starting a baby with her. Is that not so, Jessica?”

“It certainly is. I am looking forward to having your baby, but I will definitely be last in the queue, as all your wives are expecting already.”

Hermione had been standing with her mouth open. Now she closed it enough to speak.

“Good God! That means you have five, possibly six children on the way? How old are you, Mr Robertson?”

“Nineteen, Hermione. Me and my wives are all at university, studying for various degrees, as well as running our household as best we can. Our cook and housekeeper do most of the housework, though.”

“For Pete’s sake: it goes on? you have a cook and a housekeeper, as well as five wives? How big is your house?”

“You know, I have never counted the rooms, but it is on three floors. It doesn’t belong to me, though. It is owned by the father of my chief wife.”

Jemima turned to Hermione, to comment, “This guy is full of surprises, sis. I don’t know what to think of him now. Do you think we can trust him to behave himself around us?”

“While we are in Scarborough, with witnesses, I think so, Jemima. This Lothario wouldn’t dare touch us.”

“Touching you is not my intention, girls. Educating you, perhaps, but that is a different matter.”

“Educating us? You intend to do that this afternoon?” She looked at her watch: “In two or three hours?” she challenged. “I wish you luck!”

Reg smiled, deprecatingly. “Naturally not. It is not as easy as that. First of all, I don’t really know you yet; you are still strangers to me. I want us to go out and about in Scarborough, so I can see what you like, what you don’t like, and your interests in general.”

Hermione gave him a distracted look. “What are you trying to do, Mr Robertson? I can’t fathom you out.”

“Why don’t we all go out for a walk, and you can show us the sights? You have a harbour here, and a castle; that’s right?”

“Of course. You probably can see the harbour from your window here in the hotel. The castle is not much further away: it sits on the headland between the two bays. Just boring old stonework, in my opinion, apart from being bombarded in 1914.”

Reg picked up on that.

“Bombarded? An ancient castle? How come? Why would anyone want to bombard an ancient castle? Oh wait a minute: 1914, First World War?”

“Correct,” admitted Hermione. “A couple of German warships appeared nearby and shelled the town for half an hour before scarpering off. I heard that around 500 shells landed in and around the town. The Grand Hotel got hit, and many houses, but not that many people were killed. I am sure you could look it up if you were interested.”

Reg praised her. “Sounds to me that you are quite interested in history, Hermione. Did you enjoy that at school?”

She brightened up as she looked at the young man. He was showing an interest in anything he heard, so she told him, “I did fairly well in history, and got a GCSE in it.”

“Well done! I am a great believer in education. That is why I and my wives are all doing university courses, and I want Sidra to get enough GCSEs to go to university as well.”

“You do?” Hermione queried. “Why? What is the point? Why go to university?”

Reg gazed at her in astonishment, and finally answered, “What is the point of living, Hermione? You have to want to do SOMETHING with your life, surely!

Do you imagine that you should simply grow up, procreate, and die? Education makes life interesting! You can utilise what you learn: make your life better; more satisfying. You can not only improve your mind, but often you can improve your economic circumstances through gainful employment or starting your own business, all of which assumes you have been adequately educated for the task. Education expands your horizons, girl. Life is SO much more fun if you know things.”

“I never thought of it that way. Our schoolteachers just hammered their subject to make us learn enough to pass the exams. That seemed to be the raison d’etre for their job.”

Reg told her, “Probably true, as far as it goes. Did you notice that you used a French term there? That surprised me. Did you study French, Hermione?”

“A little, but didn’t take it to the GCSE level. I got A-level English, though,” she said with some pride.

“You seem to have absorbed some French, at least. Were you aware that a lot of the English language is derived from French?”

“It is? Pardon?”

“Yes. Pardon is another word that comes from French, as is parboil, in cookery; mortise, as in a mortise and tenon joint in woodworking; or the word jest, for a joke: that comes from the French geste. It goes on and on.”

“So YOU studied French at school?”

“No. It wasn’t one of my priorities, but English language was, and that’s how I learned that so much of our language derives from French. It is why so many words in English end in -re (which the Americans have changed to -er, to make it easier to spell; as in metre becoming meter, and thus confusing it with an electric or electronic meter).”

“So why did you make English language a priority?”

“So that I could better understand what words actually meant. English is a bastard language. Most of the words are derived from French, Latin, Anglo-Saxon, Scots, and some from Spanish and other languages. Many place-names are compound words that tell you about what the place was originally. For example, Scarborough is a borough based on a Scar – a rocky outcrop, in the Norse language. That prefix tells you that Vikings were here long ago. Borough is from an old Anglo-Saxon word, burg, so the name comes from two languages and hints at the history of the place.”

“Yet you have never been to Scarborough before now?”

“Never. The languages used in the name is enough to give me clues about the place, along with general English history. Of course I knew that the Norse Vikings were in Yorkshire long enough to give many places names from their language. Whitby, down the coast, is from the Old Norse for ‘White Settlement’, and Grimsby is Old Norse for ‘Grimr’s town’; ‘-by’ means a settlement or town. Just in case you thought the -by was short for ‘bay’, the Norse word for bay was ‘vik’, giving us the place-name Wick, on the coast of Caithness, or Brodick (broad bay) on the Isle of Arran, or Lerwick (muddy bay) in Shetland; but Alnwick in Northumberland, far inland, comes from the Anglo-Saxon word -vic meaning homestead or farmstead. So Alnwick is homestead beside the river Aln, Prestwick is priest’s farm, and Berwick is barley farm, from the old word ‘bere’ for barley.”

Jemima was impressed. “You seem to know an awful lot, Mr Robertson.”

Reg admitted, “That is because I didn’t have much of a family life while growing up, unlike you girls. I was an only child, and my widowed mother didn’t care for me much, so I was on my own a lot, and spent much of it reading up on subjects that interested me. You girls have a loving set of parents, yet you don’t seem to properly appreciate them.”

Jemima and Hermione started to look embarrassed., so Jessica stepped in.

“Girls, I know from experience that young adults do not necessarily go along with their parents’ wishes. It may be a fault, but not a serious one unless you choose to make it so. If you love your parents, and I am sure you do, it should allow you to demonstrate that by cooperating with them as best you can.

Note that I am not giving you instructions, just some useful advice. I can pass on a story I got from one of Reg’s wives: it may interest you.

Frances and the other girls wanted the parents to attend their Commitment Ceremony, and Frances told Reg he had to invite his mother. His mother! This is the woman who did such a bad job of raising him, so he was not keen on doing so. He knuckled under only when Frances insisted that even if his mother hadn’t treated him well, it was no reason for him to treat her badly in return: He should be a better person than that, she said.