by John Molloy
You seem perturbed as to why I'm telling you all this personal biography, but bear with me, the part of interest to you will follow in due course."
"I'm a good listener Vera, you just carry on."
“Now, where was I?”
Oh yes, I spending time at Thurrock Hall living the immoral life. Of course, I shared the big four poster bed with Percy and we unashamedly made love to the knowledge and gossip of the servants, especially one old crone who seemed to be as old as the building. Percy said as young children they called her "Old Mam Butler". She was stricter with them than their mother. They also saw more of her than their mother - she really did rear them. She frowned on our behavior, and this often caused Percy concern. Percy had a friend, a French Comte, Michel De Vercier who arrived at Thurrock Hall with his sister Centaine for a short visit. They were both young and beautiful people. He, deliciously handsome, dark and suave, and his sister at nineteen was voluptuous. If I was ever tempted to be unfaithful to Percy it was then. I was very much attracted to Michel, but we never shared an intimacy other than a slow waltz. Centaine was always everywhere. She seemed to appear out of nowhere when I was alone with Percy - beautifully and delightfully intrusive. She even knocked on our bedroom door one night while we were making love to ask Percy about some riding arrangements for the following day. She had peeped around the door to speak to Percy. I brazenly stood naked hoping it might tease or torment her. I had a slight suspicion she rather favored Percy, and it wasn't long before I was proved right. Comte Michel went home to his chateau after a week, but his beautiful sister decided to stay on at Thurrock Hall. The weather back home in France that August was very hot, so she decided to remain in England until the heat wave was over. I left for work in London every Monday morning. I would stay in London and I arrived back on Fridays. While in town, I was tormented with the thought of this exquisite French tart spending time alone with Percy.
Listening intently, Henry glanced across the table and noticed that Vera’s countenance had taken on an almost trance-like remoteness. To him, it seemed that her consciousness was now firmly fixed in the past as she continued her story.
Three weeks passed and she was still flaunting her hot loins and perfect breasts around the estate, scantily dressed in skimpy summer shorts, and flimsy lace tops with no underwear. She was a profound whore and I told Percy as much and enquired of him when was she leaving. He replied, she was the sister of his very good friend and we could reciprocate the visit at any time to their chateau. He said he couldn't just ask her to leave. Our lovemaking became a little strained and I began to blame her presence. But Percy only taunted me saying how jealous I was. On one occasion I arrived unannounced mid-week. Neither were there; they had gone horse riding and she had taken my black mare that was so precious to me I'd never loan her to anyone. Mam Butler met me and said she'd take my bag to our bedroom, but I said no, I wanted to lie down after my journey. I never realized she was protecting Percy. Centaine’s clothes and her negligee were scattered on the floor. They must have had sex after the maids had seen to the room that morning. I went downstairs and out through a side door. I waited out of sight in a corner of the stables until they arrived back. Then I was treated to more than I had bargained for. Laughing and frolicking they turned out the horses and then Centaine swiftly divested herself of her riding britches, lay back on a bed of new straw, before pulling Percy on top of her. Their sex was loud and vigorous; her movements sensual and extravagant. So much so, I felt I had been inadequate. I stood transfixed as Percy thrust into her like a stallion until she reached an unrestrained climax. He then rolled off her semi-naked body.
It took me a little time to adjust to reality and take in the scene.
Distraught, I screamed and screamed, and ran back into the house. After he followed me to our room, he made no excuses. He said that he was in love with Centaine and everything was over. I returned to my home and my broken-hearted parents who shared my pain.”
Although shocked by her candidness, Henry could feel her anguish and helplessness as her life was stripped of all pleasures, hopes and dreams. Her affection and love cast aside like flotsam in a tempest.
Vera gazed over to Henry and seeing his somewhat concerned expression, she immediately apologized for her uncharacteristic frankness in front of someone who was in reality, a total stranger.
"Honestly Vera, there’s no need to apologize. I think I understand why this has surfaced now. You have been carrying the scars inside on your heart and mind for all these years. Perhaps in me you can see how the loss of my niece has led to a similar haunting - a pain that will never go away. I sincerely hope that by you telling me this, it will help ease your heavy burden.”
"Thank you Henry, you are so kind and understanding.”
“That’s sweet of you to say so.”
And then, suddenly feeling that it was the most natural thing to do, Henry reached across table and gently held Vera’s hand in his. She placed her other hand on top of his and they gazed intently into each other’s eyes for what, as far as they were concerned, could have been an eternity.
The intensity of the moment was rudely interrupted by the noise of a champagne bottle shattering on the marble floor beside a nearby table. This brought a flurry of activity from various members of staff, who were frantically milling about trying to round up shards of glass that had scattered far and wide. Taking advantage of this distraction, Henry leaned across the table and gently pulling Vera towards him, placed a lingering kiss on Vera’s invitingly beautiful lips as she tenderly caressed his neck.
How long the kiss lasted, they couldn’t say, but realizing they were now becoming the center of attention, they both eased back into their chairs and tried to feign an air of decorum fitting for such genteel surroundings.
After finishing their coffees in silence, Vera was the first to speak.
“Do you mind if we go now, Henry. I will relate to you the rest of the story on the walk to my house which is across the park”.
Vera called the waiter.
"Could you please put this on my account?"
"Of course madam, just sign here please." Vera scribbled her signature and they walked through to the lobby. On the way past the front desk Henry noticed a familiar face.
"Vera is that who I think it is?"
"Yes, it’s James Mason the actor, one of my favorites. I've made his acquaintance. He is a gentleman with an abundance of charm."
Vera led the way across to the gate into the park. "It’s not far from here. I live in De Vere Gardens at the other side of the park. It’s a beautiful night for a walk. I love this place it's a country setting in the middle of a huge metropolis."
At first they walked in silence, very aware of one another's presence, stopping to admire the gilded moon-river that was the serpentine. Only the gentle buzz of insects like lisping ghosts, punctuated the quietness of the warm balmy night.
Vera was first to break the silence.
"If I was seventeen again, I'd go skinny dipping and you could chase me in the golden water until I'd give up and let you catch me."
"You know I'd follow you like an otter, and when I'd catch you I'd want to hear you squealing with mock fear and delight."
"And then Henry, what would you do when you had me captured and overpowered?"
"I'd kiss your lips and all the little tiny droplets like pearls running down your precious nakedness, like the poet Yeats, 'I'd pluck till times and times are done the silver apples of the moon, the golden apples of the sun'."
"You are a romantic at heart. I also love that poem of Yeats.”
Reaching the other side of the park, she said, "This gate here, it’s called The Queen's gate, and we're nearly home."
"This is a beautiful area; I'd hate to think what property would cost here."
"I wouldn't know, this house has been in our family for generations. When I was young we called it our town house and would come to stay for weekend breaks and sometimes for Christmas."
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br /> They walked through the spacious hallway and into a large lounge room. Henry sat down on the comfortable leather couch while Vera went to the drinks cabinet. "You must have a glass of cognac it’s traditional after a meal and I didn't exercise my duty as a generous hostess at dinner." She handed Henry a large glass of Remy Martin and poured one for herself. Then, tipping glasses she said, "Here's to our continued friendship and your success in your duty. I'm going to change into something a little more comfortable, be back in two minutes."
Henry sipped his drink and let his gaze wander freely over the room. He had never been in such a place so seething with character and presence. The diamond fronted glass cabinet with volumes of gilt and leather bound books, the heavily framed paintings of sporting scenes and graceful equine specimens; a large carved inlaid table of rosewood and six chairs to match, with silverware placed at random on an elegant mahogany sideboard.
After a short time, Vera re-appeared, moving silent and graceful on slippered feet, her hair loose and shoulder length. The pertness of her body was obvious beneath the lemon colored silk kimono she was now wearing. She sat on the large couch curling her legs in under her, and tossing her hair back, she sipped slowly from the brandy glass.
"When I left Percy, or should I say when he left me, well, he married Centaine and within the shortest possible time to retain respectability, they had a son. His name: Oswyn P Welland, the deck apprentice on the S.S.Rangoon. He should be my son and he would not have the hot French blood of his mother which can drive young men into the willing flesh of troublesome country girls. A young female member of staff fell to her death from the rampart of Thurrock Hall about eighteen months ago. Did you not hear of it in your job?"
"No! It must have come to nothing or the papers would have run the story."
"Yes you're right it, came to nothing and it was kept out of the papers. The true story is that young Oswyn was having sex with this young girl named Alice Whittle, but she was also giving her favors to one of the lads working on the farm. However, accidental death was eventually recorded at her inquest."
Henry stood up and removed his jacket.
"How do you know Oswyn was involved with this girl and who saw him on the roof?"
“Seemingly, only one person saw them and what transpired up there. I heard it from a brother of the lad that there was only one witness. The brother works on my family estate. I didn't tell you I was noble born and reared - not extravagantly though. I grew up on a four thousand acre estate in Surrey. It was the gardener who witnessed the scene."
"Why didn't the lad spill the beans; he surely must have felt for the young girl and her family?"
"He was a loyal servant, his family had worked at Thurrock Hall for four generations, and it's hard to break that type of bond. Some of these people would die rather than cast disgrace on their master or estate. But to make sure nothing came out he was given a large sum of money and posted to Southern Rhodesia to one of the families tobacco growing plantations."
"He could still be subpoenaed if we had enough evidence to substantiate a case. Would you be willing to give that evidence in court?"
"I thought you might ask that and the answer is no. I am telling you this to help you catch the killer of your niece, and if he's your man, well so be it. Let justice be done. There is no chance either of those two brothers would ever give testimony if it would cause problems for their future lord and master."
Henry finished his drink and Vera took the glass and placed it on the coffee table alongside her own. "Come here Henry." As she leaned across to him her kimono loosened and her naked filigree beauty washed over him in a wave of lust. Her deft fingers quickly had his shirt removed. She loosed his buttons and belt and her nymph-perfect body straddled his as he lay back against the firm leather. Like a hungry babe he sucked her firm breasts as she began to moan and sigh as he entered her. She savored his hard manhood moving slowly and deliberately, devouring the intensity of its largeness. Their naked bodies reached the highs and lows as she controlled the pace of movement until she could no longer hold back the flood as they both fell over the chasm, Henry giving her a hard smack on the bottom as she screamed enough to arouse the neighbors. They lay exhausted together for some minutes before she sat up straight. Still coupled she smiled.
"That was wonderful, for me, how about you?"
"Absolutely fantastic! I hope you didn't mind me spanking you as you were climaxing?"
"Actually, it was the first time anyone has ever done that to me and I always wanted to be smacked hard. It increased my pleasure tenfold. It was the greatest sex I have ever had in my life."
Switching off the lounge lights, they moved to the large four poster bed, Henry drew her into himself and nuzzled her, his hands moved along her back and he could feel her silky flesh begin to quiver. Now their love-making was leisurely and more intense. After they were both thoroughly sated, their bodies still entwined, they fell asleep, intoxicated with the lust and rose scented linen.
Henry awoke from a deep, dreamless sleep. The sun was peeping through the heavy royal blue curtains. He was surprised to find himself alone. It was nearly eight o’clock.
He found a note from Vera’s left on the kitchen table.
“Dearest Henry,
I apologize for not being there to get your breakfast. Feel free to help yourself to whatever food you fancy .When you are ready, please let yourself out and put the key through the letterbox.
Love,
Vera”
Henry savored the unique taste of the fragrant Java coffee beans and crunched buttered toast liberally spread with delicious home-made marmalade. He thought about young Oswyn Welland and scolded himself for not questioning Vera more thoroughly. He was sure she would have had more information. But of course nature took over. He smiled as the wonderful memories swam him around, buoyant in a warm sea of relative contentment.
He walked through the beautiful Hyde Park back to his lodgings. He was in time to share a cup of tea and some well-trodden gossip with the rotund landlady.
She skirted and skimmed around his nocturnal absence but made quite clear the vacant room was chargeable. He spent the morning in his room wandering the world, marking in the voyage of the S.S.Rangoon in his atlas; he drew a line from one port to another and noted the dates and how long her stay in each was. He was surprised to see that she spent up to two weeks in some places, probably discharging and then loading. Good grief, he thought, is it possible I could be in some of those countries in the very near future - a working adventure. His thoughts turned to young Oswyn Welland. Vera must feel very resentful, but would she deliberately try to vent her anger and disappointment with the father and mother on the son? He would talk to her again when he had more information from Vincent about the case. The full truth would probably never emerge - these country estates held more concealed secrets than the Vatican.
Chapter Nine
At one o’clock the next day, unannounced, Henry popped into the shipping office and took Vera to lunch in a nearby restaurant.
After they had eaten she continued the story of Oswyn and Alice.
“Alice Whittle had just turned nineteen when she met her untimely death. For four generations her family had worked at Thurrock Hall. They lived in a cottage on the estate for which they paid very little rent. All in all, the estate families enjoyed a decent and happy existence. Alice Whittle's mother gave birth out of wedlock. Whisper, rumor, and innuendo were rife among the staff in the great house, but not a word was spoken outside these confines. The father of the baby was Lord Percy himself. It would appear that even the attentions of the French tart weren’t enough to satisfy his lust!
Alice grew up a beautiful and somewhat privileged young girl, spending much of her time at Thurrock Hall with her mother. She took up full time employ at age seventeen as assistant housekeeper to her mother. A friendship with young Oswyn developed into a clandestine relationship and by the time her mother knew of this secret love affair, her beautif
ul young daughter was pregnant. She explained to Alice her relation to young Oswyn and how the baby's father would have to be kept secret even from the members of the household. It was to protect young Oswyn that Alice coaxed the young farmhand to her bed, so he would now be the source of whispering by the staff.”
Vera continued. “Oswyn saw them in bed. She may have arranged it so to help break their relationship. He confronted her in the library next day. The library was on the top floor and a stairs led out onto the flat roof above. It was here that they had spent many an hour on hot summer evenings making love beneath a canopy of stars, shamelessly naked in the moonlight. He followed her out onto the roof. The conversation that followed was supposedly overheard by a staff member who remained nameless. She told him all her mother had related to her. Upset, he held her by the shoulders and shook her. ‘This must be a lie contrived to break up their relationship. I don’t believe you.”
“But my mother wouldn’t lie to me about something like that.”
He felt his pride draining from him, this wonderful world of love and lust was suddenly taken from his life. He pulled her close to him.
“No.” she shouted and as she pushed him away, she stumbled backwards, her lower limbs catching the wall of the parapet and she went toppling over. His mind took on a hazy blankness for how long he didn’t know. Until the commotion below, the anguish of crying and screams of shock brought him to his senses. He left the house and went wandering through the woods.