Bare Necessities 2 (The Bare Necessities)

by John David Harding

  The group circled the flames, walking anti-clockwise and then clockwise as the witch shouted into the fire a plethora of Pagan words, before she held her hands up to the sky and shouted at the setting Sun.

  They worshipped Gaia; they celebrated the recent solstice and they eschewed the modern lifestyle that separated them from their natural world. Home-made gifts were exchanged and forest-fruit brewed alcohol was consumed.

  Then, the forest became eerily quiet; the cracking of the wood on the fire and a feint scurry of a woodland mammal the only sound to break the silence as they entered another session of quiet contemplation.

  Until someone heard the sound of a police siren in the distance, getting ever closer.

  The coven had just enough time to extinguish their fire and run naked, holding their clothes, to their cars in the forest car park to be able to scarper before the Police arrived.

  It was the same as last year.

  Chapter LV

  Paige

  “No!”

  Jack recoiled. His eyes stared at his girlfriend as she shook her head.

  “No. No. No. No. No. You had three years to ask and I would have said yes. I'm not marrying you now I've turned into a baby producing machine.”

  “Paige, please you know …”

  “I know you love me? Sure. I love you too. More than I can express into words. And when the baby is born you can ask me again. And then Miss Simmons and little Miss or Master Simmons will say yes, but until then I'm not rushing into a shotgun wedding because I'm pregnant.”

  “But Paige, please think.” Jack cried and held his girlfriend's hand, squeezing it tightly. “Being an unmarried mother is difficult and surely it’s better …”

  Paige shook her hand from his, scowling at her partner. “Being an unmarried mother … yes, what a disgrace they'll say. The Daily Herald will be up in arms!” She waved her hands dramatically. “After all, they normally love this clothes-free, liberal, anti-fascist socialist. I'd be such as disappointment to them.” She glared at her partner, still on one knee. “When I marry, I will marry for love. And I will marry because it's the best thing for me. And I will have a naturist wedding.”

  “Awesome!” Lucinda squealed from the doorway; both Paige and Jack became aware of the small audience that had gathered. “Bagsy, I want to be a bridesmaid.”

  “Love, I don't think a naturist wedding is a good idea.”

  “Well when you do, then you can propose.” She backed away from him and Jack grabbed hold of her hand for the third time.

  “OK. You can have a naturist wedding. Now please, Paige, please, will you marry me?”

  Paige smiled. “After the baby's born.”

  “Why do you have to make my life so difficult?” Jack asked. He wiped his eyes, getting up to his feet.

  “You had three years to propose. Three years when I would have said yes and we would have had our naturist wedding – with Lucinda as the bridesmaid, obviously …”

  “Result!” Lucinda interrupted.

  Paige smiled at her. “… but you waited until you thought you were obligated to ask.” Her hands gestured at her body. “And you waited until you thought you had to make this, yours. Just stop and think for a moment how that feels.”

  Jack rubbed his forehead and slouched against the window sill. “I don't want my grandson being a bastard! You have to marry.” Paul boomed as he entered from the other room. Paige's smile disappeared.

  “OK. Then just your granddaughter then.”

  “Or that! No Rees-Montague has been born a bastard. I won’t have it.”

  “Actually you don't get a fucking choice.” Paige took a deep breath; she felt the feelings of rage build from within and she took a step towards Paul. “My body, my life.”

  “You listen, and you listen good.” Paul bellowed, waving his finger at Paige.

  Paige snorted. “I need some air before I hit someone.”

  “Don’t walk away from me! I haven’t finished.” Paul shouted as Paige left the room; she didn’t respond and Jack walked after her.

  She entered her garden, grabbing at a dressing gown by the back door. The cool winds swirled around her exposed skin, and she pulled her fleecy garment tight as she looked over the tiered garden. Jack put his arm around her, pulling his diminutive girlfriend into his chest.

  “I'm not changing my mind,” she said.

  There was silence for a few moments. “I know,” he muttered. “You never do. Ever.”

  “And you hate me for it? I agonised about telling you because I was worried you'd do this.”

  “Worried?”

  “Totally. I love you more than anything, but I want you to want to get married without thinking you had to. Or because your dad would demand it. Trying to squeeze it in before the baby comes is just forcing us and I don’t want to be forced. Does that make sense?”

  “I understand.” He pulled his lover closer. “But I do want to get married. I promise you, I do. I’ve been thinking about it for months.”

  Paige smiled, resting her head on her boyfriend's lap. “Good. Then after the baby’s here, we can think about it again.”

  Chapter LVI

  Lucinda

  Paul's brow had not stopped resembling a relief map of the Brecon Beacons in the intervening sixty minutes. An hour previous his only concern was that his son's left-wing naturist girlfriend insisted on spouting treasonous comments while practising her naturism during Christmas celebrations and that he had seen parts of his son’s girlfriend he had not seen on his wife in years. Now, he was most concerned about the fact that his first grandchild would be born to unmarried parents.

  He blamed Paige. He always blamed Paige. His default reaction to any fate that befell Jack was that the South London firebrand was behind the trouble. He ran his hands through his hair and sipped at the expensive whisky. He was on his third in as many minutes. Paige had led his naive and his impressionable young lad astray; he had always said that. Irrespective of the fact that they lived in a house worth millions, were adored by millions and their record sales were in the millions, Jack had never followed the sensible plan his father had mapped out for him.

  And now, Paige had trapped him. She was a floosie. She was a harlot and a billion more unmentionable things. He sipped at his empty glass, discarding the lead crystal orb onto the table with a clatter.

  “So,” Lucinda cheerily cried, drinking from the bottle of wine. “Good news, huh?”

  Jack's sister, Harriet, who had been silent as the revelation had untangled around her, looked up at her father and then her aunt. “Paige has really messed up!”

  “Oh, Harriet, sweety. I think you'll find it takes two to tango.” She smiled. “This is an awesome Christmas present.” From the looks on the other members of the Rees-Montague clan, it was clear that her opinion was in a significant minority. “Patter of tiny feet. And I think Paige will make a great mummy!”

  Paul snorted. “Little harlot flashed her …”

  “Dearest brother,” Lucinda sarcastically interrupted. “I remember a little teenage boy getting excited when a young lady with red hair really did flash her knickers at an overworked young boy and …”

  “Don't keep bringing her up!” Paul snapped; the story of his teenage crush was an oft-repeated topic and well-poked sore point.

  “Ah yes, and you nearly did get her pregnant.”

  Paul glared at his sister. “You think this is good. There are loads of women in the country struggling because they are single mothers. Struggling to pay the rent, struggling to make ends meet because they popped out kids without being in a secure relationship.”

  Lucinda giggled. “Struggling to make ends meet? You are in a muli-million pound house, drinking two hundred pounds a bottle whisky from fifty quid glasses while there is a turkey the size of an elephant in their oven and you drove here in a car purchased by the young lady that cost six figures. What part of struggling to make ends meet do you think applies?”

  “But …�
��

  “And secure relationship? Of course they are in a secure relationship.”

  “Then why won't she marry him?”

  Lucinda rolled her eyes. “If only I'd told some of my guys to wait. She isn’t rushing things. That’s good. I'd happily give them marriage advice,” she suggested. “Although which one of my twelve marriages applies best?”

  Paul's face twisted. “I'm not having it! My grandchildren will not be born bastards. My grandchildren are Rees-Montagues and they will have the Rees-Montague name. I don't like that Simmons family, I never have. I mean, you were married to them once and it ended poorly.” Lucinda's eyes sparkled as he ranted. “But if they want to start popping out kids then she will be married. Be damned, that bloody slut will do as she's bloody well told.”

  Lucinda laughed at her brother. “You have eighty million people in the UK you could take on,” she teased. “Eighty million people and many will kowtow and listen to your bullshit demands. But you decide to keep picking on me and Paige. Or trying to. The two people who will tell you where to go.”

  “That girl …”

  “That girl? That girl is Paige. You are wanting to go up against the girl that has taken on the establishment and ignored every single law on public nudity. The girl who has stood up to political parties, our Government, fundamentalists and dictators. ‘Cause good fucking luck, my brother, as the only thing stopping her from breaking you is her love for Jack.”

  “No because …”

  “And ask yourself. Is picking a fight with your son’s girlfriend really going to help you? When it comes down to it do you think he’ll side with the mother of his child or his father? Your choice but you’ll not win.”

  Paul spluttered but everyone knew Lucinda was right. This was one battle Paul would never win.

  Chapter LVII

  Claire & Paige

  It took Claire many hours of negotiations, and it was only when she pointed out – repeatedly – that she had spent Christmas more sober than the eleven year old she had given free guitar lessons to, did her parents stop trying to force her to stay within their sight.

  The New Year celebrations at Paige's house would be a colourful affair; they always were. Jack and Paige had invited several of their friends, including Leah. Hazel, had asked if Ricky could invite a couple of his mates as they planned to go to a house party in the local area during the day, and Paige had readily agreed.

  Jack thought twice about inviting some of his political connections; originally he wanted to offer an opulent evening to impress but the sight of Paige made him reconsider. She didn't need alcohol to be dogmatic.

  Ricky and Hazel arrived in a large, stretch limousine. Paige welcomed her sister and ignored her brother-in-law, leaving the arrogant artist to be received by her partner. Ricky did his best not to openly view Paige's action as a slight, but the turned back of the pregnant host, striding away from the vehicle was an obvious piece of deliberate rudeness.

  “Hey, sweetcheeks,” Ricky cried. “What an arse!”

  Paige turned to face the drunken man. He held a bottle of champagne in his left hand as he ogled the naturist leading her sister into the warmth of her home. She spoke loudly to Hazel. “What an arse!” She looked at Ricky to make sure everyone knew what she meant by her statement, and then slipped inside the property.

  “Sorry,” Hazel muttered. “He's had a few. Him and Ben were having a drinking competition at the party. I could do with a decent drink.” Paige opened the drinks cabinet and poured a glass of vodka and Coke for her sister. “You not having one?”

  Paige beamed. “That's a piece of my news. I'm pregnant.” She waited for a split-second for her younger sister to digest the news. “Thirteen weeks!” Hazel squealed in excitement and instinctively patted her sister’s stomach.

  “That’s why you were eating so much at the spa,” she teased. “Is it a boy or a girl?”

  “I dunno.” Paige picked up her tablet and swiped onto the gallery application; Jack had loaded her ultrasound picture onto the device and Paige exhibited the embryo growing inside of her. “See, it’s tiny. About a size of a plum I think. Or was it kidney bean. I can’t remember. It’s small.”

  “I’m gonna be an auntie,” Hazel squealed. “Does Mum know? She never said anything yesterday when I saw her. She sends her regards by the way, and says could you please come and visit some time.”

  “She sees more than enough of you for the both of us,” Paige replied firmly.

  “Yeah, she’s always ‘round my place,” Hazel moaned. “And spends half her time moaning you never ring or visit her, unless it’s about the business!”

  “Not fair!” Paige squealed. “And I texted her this morning, about my pregnancy.” Hazel threw her arms around her big sister.

  “So exciting. Can I show this to Ricky.” Paige’s eyebrows flickered; she was certain that her brother-in-law would have little interest in her pregnancy but she allowed her sister to run into the other room holding her tablet aloft.

  “I guess congratulations are in order then, Paige.” The voice was familiar; his presence unexpected.

  “Fuck. What are you doing here, Andre?”

  “Ricky invited me. Said it was OK to come as I was going to be on my own. I guess he didn’t ask if that was OK.”

  Paige stoically glanced at the smart man leaning against the door frame. He always looked presentable and professional, irrespective of the occasion. “He asked if he could he bring a couple of friends and we said yes. We didn’t know it would be you.”

  “Ahh. Right. Well this is awkward. I better go.”

  “Just don't let Claire see you ‘cause ...”

  “Bit late for that,” Claire's voice interrupted; the woman, dressed in a smart evening gown glided down the stairs from one of Paige’s guest bedrooms. “Good evening, Mr Wilson.”

  “Good evening, Miss Baynes.” He tried not to smile. “I trust you are well. You look positively radiant.”

  “Fuck! Are we in Downton Abbey?” Paige asked.

  “Miss Simmons, I see you have invited a known ruffian into your house. I had no idea that you kept such a disorderly property.”

  “Fuck! What's this. My house is tidy, goddamit. Well at least until the baby comes. This ain't a disorderly house, we have a cleaner. And I know where the vacuum cleaner is too!”

  Andre ignored her. “Indeed. Miss Simmons invites ruffians, scallyways, ne'er-do-wells and utter bastards to her disorderly house. But this scoundrel is set to take leave, fear his presence may offend the lovely Miss Baynes.”

  “Miss Baynes does not wish to cause Mr Wilson, the utter bastard, to leave Miss Simmons’s disorderly house. Miss Baynes merely demands that he stays at some distance from her.”

  “If Mr Wilson is permitted to stay, he promises he will do so.”

  Claire walked past him and opened the fridge to retrieve a soft drink and the two former lovers did their best to avoid each other.

  Paige sought Hazel for a quiet chat, and she escorted her sister into their pool room; it was eerily quiet and they were alone. “How’s Ricky?” Paige asked, watching her sister’s expression as she nodded, taking a gulp of white wine from the glass in her right hand.

  “Fine! I mean he’s …”

  “How’s the marriage?” Paige interrupted, asking firmly. Hazel bit her lip and nodded, not answering the question. “Hazel, tell me. I’ll find out in the end.”

  “Nothing’s wrong. It’s good,” Hazel said with a weak smile.

  “I can tell when you’re holding out on me.”

  “Honestly, I’m fine. It’s fine. He’s fine. It’s been a bit weird, being married. I’m the first of my friends to get hitched, although I don’t see them so much now. Fine, honestly. It’s all good.”

  Paige’s eyes bored into her sister’s gaze. Her eyebrows flickered. “It’s just Andre once told me, not long after you started going out, that he could be …”

  “Stressed?”

  “A rampant psychopa
th with a ton of issues, inexplicable neuroses and a violent temper. I think that was the description. He’s …”

  “… not like that at home.” Hazel answered stoically. “And you can’t say that about my husband.”

  “OK. Not my words. But you tell him, if he ever lays a finger on you and I find out, I won’t stop until I’ve broken every bone in his body.”

  “You don’t need to …”

  “I do. And I mean it.” Paige’s steely gaze never moved as Hazel slowly nodded. “Oh, and you’ll never guess what that dopey boyfriend of mine did after he found out I was pregnant?”

  “What?”

  “Only went and proposed.” Hazel’s face brightened. “I told him to go do one on the wedding front.” Paige turned to face footsteps on the other side of the door. “I’m not being his wife just because my uterus is suddenly occupied and not vacant. He can wait until nature has finished with turning me into a baby-popping machine.” Hazel laughed, watching as Leah and Claire slowly opened the door. “You come for a swim too? Me and Hazel were just thinking of that.”

  “I haven’t brought my swimming costume,” Hazel replied and Paige’s eyes glared at her. “Oh yeah, you don’t believe in …” She stammered. “I better get back to Ricky. He’ll be wondering where I’ve got to.” Paige shook her head as Hazel walked through the open door.

  “Just us three then?” Paige asked, and dived under the water, not needing to undress. Her naked body parted the water elegantly and she swam underwater, barely making a ripple on the surface until she reached the other side of the pool and came up for air. “Come on!” She squealed, impatiently waiting for her friends to disrobe. “That’s why getting clothed is bad!”

  * * *

  Three hours after Claire and Andre had met on the stairs, and after the large, expansive buffet, they found themselves together in the garden watching the stars twinkle in the night sky.

  “I'm sorry for shouting at you in the hospital,” Claire admitted, starting the conversation as she walked into the brisk night time air. Andre turned from watching the firework display at an adjacent property and cleared his throat.