Room 2D

From Roué 30 ‘But of course, my dear,’ the elderly gentleman said in answer to his daughter’s request that he look after Mandy, her sixteen-year-old daughter. He squeezed her hand and said in reassuring tones: ‘I’ll take good care of her — don’t you worry. ‘It’ll only be for a couple of days,’ the woman explained. ‘But with Leonard away on business… and now this conference up in Scotland… of course, I don’t  have  to go…’ ‘You go to your conference,’ the old boy interjected. ‘She’ll be alright with me.’ ‘Are you  sure  you don’t mind, pop?’ ‘ Mind?!  — perish the thought. How could I possibly  mind  looking after my own granddaughter? It’ll be a pleasure.’ The woman patted his hand ‘She’s not sugar and spice and all things nice, you know, pop.’ The man chortled. ‘What girl  is ? I recall having to tan  your  backside on more than one occasion.  You  were hardly a little angel, my dear.’ His daughter smiled, recall...

From Blushes 39 Brrrinnnggg. Brrinnnnggg. The phone. Again. Stanley Cardew mutters an expletive under his breath. He has only just replaced the receiver. With an anguished expression he picks it up again. It is a good job he is not an excitable man. ‘Hello. Cardew Partners.’ Forcing his voice into polite, sympathetic tones. He listens. Rolling his eyes. He has heard it before, so many times. The basic problem is that demand greatly exceeds supply. One might imagine in broadly economic terms that for a supplier this would be an ideal situation. But it is not. It simply creates unending hassle, agitation, aggravation. ‘I’m very sorry.’ The tones are kept meek and apologetic. ‘I’m afraid we simply do not have anyone. At the moment.’ There follows the usual response. No one will accept this answer. They all assume there is at least one who must be free. One who is being kept for an especially favoured client. And why should she b...

Story from Uniform Girls 16. Pretty model, I'm not sure I've seen her in anything else. A large substantial house, The Big House as it was known to the locals, Alwood Hall in fact, sitting imposingly in its grounds above the village of Little Alwood on this fine sunny July morning. A four-square early Victorian edifice dominating the local landscape as indeed its owner-occupier also tended to dominate the local inhabitants. Mr Henry Hollings standing now in his front reception room… Henry Hollings, lord of the manor, was in his fifties and of an upright, military bearing although he had not in fact served queen and country. He had spent some years in the east, though, on family tea plantations and out there a gentleman planter could conduct himself in the same lordly fashion as lords of the manor had in England in bygone days. So that Henry Hollings did still now act that way back in England and Little Alwood’s inhabitan...