Over The Hills And Faraway.. Book 2 ;RelationshipsChapter 6: The Courtship Of Phillipa Goddard; 28th December 1987 free porn video
At nine precisely I was ringing her doorbell, there was a bit of a wait until Pippa opened the door.
"Sorry to keep you waiting Dewey," she smiled as she said my name, "I was washing my hair." She had a towel wrapped around her head like a turban and was wearing black slacks, a long sleeved shirt worn outside of the slacks and a woollen waistcoat; I caught the scent of shampoo and flowers as she kissed my cheek. I followed her into the hall. "There's coffee in the pot in the kitchen," she said over her shoulder as she went back up the stairs, "I won't keep you long."
As I poured a cup I heard the sound of a hair drier being used upstairs. Sure enough about five minutes later she came into the kitchen, rollers in her hair. "I must look a mess "she exclaimed, "I'm running a bit late this morning." She took a drink from a mug of coffee on the table.
"You look fine to me" I said gallantly.
"Flattery will get you anywhere" she said, and that lovely smile of hers warmed me.
"I sincerely hope so" I replied. We grinned at each other, enjoying the flirting.
I asked how her Christmas had gone at the homeless shelter; she said it had been hard work but she had enjoyed it. Well over a 100 homeless men had been accommodated in the church hall that had been used as the shelter, and she had been exhausted yesterday evening when getting home after the clearing up. She had slept so soundly that she hadn't heard her alarm this morning, which was why she was running a bit late. "Many of those using the shelter were ex-soldiers" she said sadly.
"When a bloke leaves the army it can be a terrific wrench for him, and some just don't make the transition to civilian life. Our regiment has a scheme to look after our blokes that leave and have difficulties in Civvy Street. I bet none of your homeless were from our regiment." I was proud that the RGJ had a really good welfare system in place for ex Green Jackets.
She asked me how I had managed over Christmas on guard. I told her how much I had enjoyed the experience. I had been in sole charge most of the time; the Orderly Officer and sergeant had hardly troubled me, and I had really got to know the riflemen with me over those the three days. It also hadn't done me any harm that now my fellow corporals in the platoon owed me, as did the platoon sergeant. He had been drunk a couple of hours before the Orderly Officer came to inspect the guard and we (the guard) had sobered him up and kept him from a court martial.
Pippa was carrying a sheaf of paper and some pencils in her hand.
"What I would like to do" she said, all purposeful and business like "is to ask you questions regarding the RGJ and take some notes."
"That's OK by me " I replied "but what is a Ph.D and why do you want one?"
She sat down opposite me. "Good questions; a Ph.D is the award of a Doctorate of Philosophy, but it can be in any art or science subject; economic music or Divinity" she sipped her coffee. "To be awarded a Doctorate you must come up with new research in your chosen field- anthropology in my case." She gave me a steady look. "I'm going to investigate the Green Jackets as I would if I had discovered a new tribe in the rain forest, if you find the idea of that ... distasteful then say so now and that will be the end of it."
I took my time in answering, so that it would be clear where we both stood.
"That seems OK to me, but I won't stand for any denigrating of the regiment. We may appear peculiar to civvies, with our traditions and strange customs, and I don't want the academic world taking the piss out of my family." I was a bit forceful and realised I had sworn. "Sorry about the language."
Pippa laughed. "I've heard a sight worse than that, at work and in jail." She went on, in a more serious tone. "I can assure you that it will be a properly conducted scientific examination. The academic world will look at the results, and at my conclusions, purely from a social anthropological viewpoint. I'm not sure if I will find out anything that will merit me having a Ph.D. awarded, but your regiment, family as you call it, is as fascinating to anthropologists as any Amazon rain forest tribe."
"Fair enough." I felt I had made my point and that she had taken it on board.
"As for why do I want a Ph.D, that's probably a bit more difficult to answer." Pippa drained her coffee mug and placed it on the draining board. "Where shall I start? I took my Bachelor of Arts at Cambridge, I had always intended taking my Masters degree but my job was so high powered that I never found the time until I ended up in prison." She laughed "Ironically it was my spell of 'porridge' that gave me the time to complete it."
She frowned and a cloud passed over her face.
"Academia can be hard on you when it feels like it. I came out of prison with a Master's degree, obtained from London University, added to my BA, but no University or college would employ me. I knew I wouldn't get back into advertising, in fact I didn't really want to, I wanted to hide away in Academia, but the bastards kept me out." She looked at me with a big grin on her face and said "Sorry about the language."
"I've heard a sight worse at work, haven't been to jail as yet." I responded. Once again her smile and laughter enveloped me.
"I haven't told you why I want the Ph.D, which isn't awarded lightly. If I get it I will spit in the eyes of those Chancellors and Masters of colleges who made it clear I could have a job, as long as I opened my legs for them." Her voice was bitter with remembrances and I reached across the table and held her hand.
"You'll get that Ph.D and I'll come with you to collect it. You then can spit in their eyes and I'll punch their fucking lights out."
Before she could reply the phone rang. Pippa wiped her eyes and walked over to the telephone on the kitchen wall. "Hello ... when? ... Can I get back to you later? I'm not sure if I will be free ... yes and you too, goodbye."
Pippa placed her papers on the table and said "Thanks for the offer to punch lights out and don't worry about the language. Shall we begin?"
She wasn't looking at me but down at her papers but I could see she was grinning to herself.
"Can you tell me why you joined the army? Did you specifically want to join 3 RGJ?" Her pencil was poised over the papers, and she started writing (shorthand?) as soon as I started answering her questions.
I told her of my early life, of the low level crime I was involved in, of the 'uncle' who suggested the army.
"When I got to the recruiting office it was a case of what was available. My age meant only junior leader regiments were open to me; the infantry would take anyone providing they were fit enough, so my lack of education didn't really matter."
I thank my lucky stars that the Green Jackets had vacancies, the 'uncle' gave that regiment his seal of approval so my mum agreed for me to join. I explained to Pippa I felt that I had entered a family, something that I didn't really have back in Plaistow.
"The Colonel was the father, the officers and senior NCOs were the uncles, the corporals the older brothers and the riflemen were brothers." I described how the battalion had seemed to me when I first joined 3 RGJ.
"Who would have been the mother ... Margaret Thatcher?" Her tone was a bit sarcastic but I bit back any angry retort.
"The Queen." I replied, quietly but firmly.
She was instantly ashamed of her flippant remark. She flushed scarlet and stammered out an apology.
"Oh my God, Dewey I'm so sorry. You must think me an arrogant middle- class bitch, please forgive me."
"I know you were just being funny, you're no bitch nor arrogant, but you are middle- class so one out of three isn't bad!" I continued, "Civvies don't realise the bond between HM.Forces and the Crown. When any one joins the military, Army, Navy or Air force, they swear their allegiance; not to a flag, not to a country, not to a government and not to a written constitution, which we ain't got. We swear allegiance to the Queen, on The Bible." ( The army still use the King James Version.)
(I, David Paul Desmond, swear by Almighty God that I will be faithful and bear true allegiance to Her Majesty Queen Elizabeth II, Her Heirs and Successors, and that I will, as in duty bound, honestly and faithfully defend Her Majesty, Her Heirs and Successors, in Person, Crown and Dignity against all enemies and will observe and obey all orders of Her Majesty, Her Heirs and Successors, and of the Field Officers and officers set over me. So help me God.)
I can still hear our proud teenage voices as we took that Oath of Attestation. I held the Bible with Franklin Delroy Desmond when we swore the oath; it was that shared event which initially forged the bond of friendship between the two of us.
I recounted this, and the other ties that bind the riflemen of the regiment together. She knew, from her research, that the Royal Green Jackets were made up from three older regiments. She was mainly concerned with the 3rd Battalion, which had evolved from the 95th Rifles.
I explained that the men of 3RGJ were mainly recruited from the inner boroughs of London, and that the four rifle companies of the battalion comprised of men from the north, east, south and west London inner boroughs. Alpha, my original company, was mainly drawn from East London boroughs, Bravo, my present company, recruited from the North London and Charlie from the West London boroughs. Delta recruited from the boroughs South of the river. I pointed out to her that those born north of the Thames consider south of the river not London but the countryside!
Maddy
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