Saddleworth to Cannes

"Stop it!" I wailed.

"Shut up, we got to get you cleaned up young lady," Martha exclaimed, "Look we'll go in in a second, just give the boys a thrill first shall we?"

I dreaded to think what she had in mind but as it turned out she just meant letting them look, but I couldn't wait to get inside.

Martha took me upstairs, first she untied me and set to shampooing my hair and getting that damned hair wrap untangled, I swear it took an hour and then she let me have a lovely long bath with about every sort of smelly bath salt they could find thrown in it before she started on my hair again, I just knew it was a scam.

My suspicions were increased when they brought me an early lunch, no alcohol, just enough salad for a football team, half a cold Chicken or was it Turkey, French loaf loads of butter, I ate my fill, lying in the bath with the plate on a sort of rack which fitted across the bath, all washed down with vile Yorkshire Tap water, no wonder they loved their beer!

Martha started to hurry me up, she found me a white tee shirt three sizes too small and a thong and a white miniskirt and brand new white shoes with three inch heels, brand new in a box so Henry could take them back new, and I suppose I did a passable impersonation of a blonde bimbo when I put them on, and if that wasn't enough Henry seemed to have cleaned out the local Pound- Land's beauty department and he had left a table full of cheap mascara and lip sticks for me to try.

"Do you want me to look like a brainless bimbo," I asked, "like a total tart?" I demanded.

"Yes please dear." Martha said "Harry Wallace is coming over, Henry's going to bet you beat Sandra, that's Harry's daughter in run on Saturday."

"Oh, you might have said," I agreed, "Can we stretch this tee shirt and make my boobies look bigger?"

Martha smiled, she remembered her days of Amature Athletics before she became a Pony Girl.

"I used to do AAA before I got into this," she said, "Triple Jump, different training though, couldn't do both, not like you."

"That's a pity," I agreed, "Is that Harry now."

It was Harry an hour early.

Martha wasn't ready so I let him in, "I'm Rose," I said "You can call me Rosie."

"Where's Henry?" he asked.

"Oh, I don't know," I agreed "Do you like my boobies, Mr Wally, Henry says I should have implants but."

Harry Wallace was six foot three, the kitchen doorframe was six foot high, Harry really shouldn't have been staring at my boobies

Crunch, "Aw me bleeding head," Harry shouted and he grabbed for a chair.

"It's not bleeding Mr Wally," I said, "Oh but it is I'll wipe it for you," I said as I whipped my Tee shirt off, that's when he fainted.

"Eh Rose that was a rotten thing to do, Henry will be pleased!" Martha cried as I pulled the Tee shirt back on again.

Henry was delighted, Harry had left poor flat chested Sandra in his car so I went to get her, "I'm Rose," I said, "Your Daddy said to come in," I said like some kind of imbecile.

"Right," she said, as she set her newspaper down, "Is he on the Whisky again?"

"Oh no," I replied, "No come in and see." I suggested, she had a lovely action I realised as she swung her legs out of the car, but too thin, more your Marathon runner than half marathon or Cross Country my speciality, no real muscle.

A couple of implants and she would make an Ok Ponygirl I surmised.

"I'm supposed to be training but I broke my nail," I lied, "And my Boobies get sore from all the bouncing up and down."

You should have see her cynical grin, she knew all she had to do was get the stakes raised and she and her Daddy could make a killing, and she strode powerfully across the cobble stone path to the Kitchen in her trainers, while I tottered awkwardly on my heels, trying hard not to break an ankle, something all too easy to do.

Henry and Martha were in great form, going on about how good I was, "I told Harry here how good you were at half Marathons." Henry explained.

"Oh yes I was under eleven independent schools champion," I lied.

"Thousand was it Henry," Harry chortled, "How's about we double it?"

"And again, Henry said, double your double,"

"What Ten thousand!" I added, "Oh how exciting!"

Harry looked at Henry with look of complete amazement, I thought I had overdone the dumb blonde bit big time but no, the bought it hook line and.

"Dad you ent got that sort if cash!" Sandra said, "That's my training for next year Dad,"

"Five thousand," Henry said, I'll wager Ten thousand against your Five that my girl wins and if she does I'll train your girl for a year for free."

"Hey hold up," Harry exclaimed.

"Go for it Dad!" Sandra said, "I'll wipe floor with that stupid bimbo."

"Deal?" said Henry.

"Or no deal," I added it was supposed to be a joke but I guess they never watched daytime TV.

"Shake?" said Harry and they shook hands.

"Can I take these bloody stupid heels off now?" I asked, "Ever seen a Ponygirl ranch before Sandra?" I asked as I grabbed my trainers and gratefully pulled them on.

"No," she said suddenly a lot less confident, "We should be getting back."

"Yes, till Monday Henry," Harry exclaimed and he stood up to leave.

"Come on Dad," Sandra urged and suddenly they were gone.

I turned to Martha, "I need some things for the run, sports bra mainly, decent shorts and stuff."

"All right, we'll go into town," she said, "We might as well get off now."

Martha had the filthiest most beat up Range Rover that ever existed but she hustled it along fairly quickly and pretty soon we were in town, I found a sports shop easily enough and got myself sorted out and then well there was a specialist lingerie shop and I couldn't resist an uplift Bra, and then with a Tee shirt only two sizes too small well, lets say there was no shortage of wolf whistles!

Thats when I realised I had nothing decent to wear and Martha had a credit card.

I only spent about five hundred pounds, but I got a lovely black dress and a fur wrap from Oxfam and a Silver one from Age concern and a few odd bits and pieces, and I sort of felt ready for Saturday.

We watched a Movie before we went home, "Henry will be worried," Martha chided.

"So what?" I replied, and we were home at the farm a little before ten.

Early bed sneak out to the Pub get bladdered was plan A but Henry was there way before me

and there on the supper table with the Pastie and French bread was a gallon cask of ale and a half bottle of Vodka.

"Thought I'd save you the trouble." Henry grinned knowingy

"Henry you're so thoughtful," I smiled, "Where's the Orange juice."

"Fridge." he said, "Get stuck in."

The Pastie tasted delicious and the Ale was quite nice, I don't think I managed it all before I was sick, but I tried.

They promised me a soft bed but I woke in the stable, once again the Band of the Coldstream Guards were accompanying Status Quo in concert inside my head while someone tried to let them escape using a road drill again when I woke, I had the mother and father of a headache, and I was naked again and there was sick on my bedding and I was really frustrated, why can you never get a decent fuck when you need one?

Martha came to see me, it was nearly two in the afternoon but still she tried the al Fresco enema and when she finished I tried to bring myself off with the hose, bad idea, Ouch!

"Hey stop that!" Martha insisted. "None of that till you win tomorrow."

"What!" I protested.

"You heard!" she replied, "Henry's orders." I felt again, "Stop it!" she said.

"Where's my clit ring gone?" I protested.

"Henry did it when you was asleep, solid gold see," Martha explained.

"Oh," I exclaimed, "I wish he would ask it's my damned body," I pointed out.

"He might if you hadn't been so drunk!" she suggested, "Now get a shower, have a bite to eat put your running kit on and go for a bit of a run." she said, "Go on!"

I agreed grudgingly when I saw she at least had an old coat for me to wear and I soon had a warm shower and got myself dressed, Henry was waiting for me, "You look very professional!" he said.

"Will you race me to the Pub?" I asked, "I really should do some road miles."

"No, but I'll pacemake for you in motor, if you want to follow?" he suggested.

"Yes, thanks," I agreed so we set off up the track with him in his Lexus and me running behind.

I saw a couple of girls in Pony girl tack waiting around by the stables and a pair climbing towards the moor pulling a cart with what looked like Albert in the driving seat and I followed Henry but something was wrong, was it my running kit instead of tack, or what was it, it bothered me and only when we got to the top of the track and started down towards Glossop and I could see for miles right towards Wales and what looked like the Irish Sea in the distance and suddenly it struck me, it wasn't raining, Yorkshire with no rain and dry roads, I could barely believe it.

Henry kept a steady pace and he pulled over and stopped after about ten miles or so, "Had enough?" he asked.

"Yes, I think I'd better call it a day," I agreed, and I climbed in beside him.

"Will you do evening stables for Martha," he said, as we drove back "I see you're listed as a trainer now."

"I'd rather just have a long soak in the bath and watch TV." I said and before I could say but I would he agreed.

"That lay sod Albert can do it." he said.

The evening was pleasant enough, I'm not sure Roast Beef and Yorkshire Pudding is the ideal food for marathons but it was tasty, and at least there was some half decent bottled water, and some sweet Cider to drink so I had a quick shower, had my inner or was it supper, watched Coronation Street on TV and had a long soak in the bath and slept in a nice soft bed for once.

I couldn't sleep, so I found a spare stable stall, stripped off and had a nice sleep on the soft straw.

Albert woke me at about six a.m, I told him to sod off but he wasn't having any of it and he had me in an arm binder gagged and gave me a bloody freeing cold enema in the yard ith the hose pipe before the dozy sod realised he had the wrong girl.

"You fucking imbecile," I told him, "Geez." I said as I stomped away to my bed upstairs leaving a trail of wet footprints, and no sooner had I got to sleep than Martha woke me with a nice breakfast of coffee and scrambled egg.

"Had a good night?" she asked.

I didn't have the heart to tell her.

The race was a cock up of the first rank, the organisers had to be certified morons, usually the serious runners, like me, are separated from the fun runners who can barely limp along but not here, oh no, we all started in a big mass, except some people had camped all night so as to get a good starting place, oh yes that included Sandra and her Daddy.

I had decided to forget the blonde bimbo act but luckily I took the uplift bra and too small tee shirt with me, and the three inch heels and when I arrived about an hour before the start and found I was about a hundred yards back, I was all ready in my running gear.

It didn't take long to revert to plan A, gaudy lip stick, mascara, false nails, upthrust bra, too tight tee shirt, I changed in Henry's Lexus and it worked like a charm except it was slow going and the damn gun went before I had reached the line, I did the first half mile in heels carrying my bag, but when we did the bit along the sea front ad down the beach I kicked them off and really made up some ground, which I lost when stopped to put my trainers on, but then I threw the bag away, popped my boobies out of the upthrust bra, put my sports bra over my shirt, hoping the number remained visible and I set off after Sandra.

It was a bloody silly way to run a race, and a bloody silly place to hold one, they even had a brass band playing by one hairpin bend, and who wants to sit on a beach facing east?

Anyway gradually the opposition fizzled out, one chap, oh yes men and women raced together I told you the organisers were certified morons, this one chap just stopped and went in the local pub, I never did find out if he just stopped for a quick half pint, and with a mile and a bit to go I caught up with Sandra, she was just hanging on to the leading Trio.

I couldn't resist it, I undid my sports bra, let it down around my waist, hid it under the tee shirt and pulled that upthrust bra back in place and only then I overtook her.

If looks could kill! Wow was she angry, and the adrenalin kicked in and she kicked really hard, I went with her and thats when I doubted the wisdom of getting bladdered and eating roast beef as a training regime. "Come on legs don't let me down," I cried and I dug in again.

Luckily the certified, or was it a chartered moron, had arranged for the finish to be by the Novelty Rock Emporium and Municipal Public lavatory at the cliff top, a real killer, just like Henry's track to Saddleworth Moor.

I was really wishing I hadn't messed around with my bra by now, all right I was getting the loudest cheers of anyone, even that Paula one you see on TV, but they hurt, Oh my, my poor boobies.

So that was it, across the beach, and up the steps, all two hundred and or was it three hundred.

Two at a time seemed good, then there was someone wandering around aimlessly, I barged past, and another and another, "Woman's finish on the right!" someone shouted and suddenly there it was, bloody marvellous, and it was only when I crossed the line and breasted the tape which should have broke but didn't and made the whole triumphal arch fall over that I realised I had won.

The Redcar and Whitby Chronicle photographer got a great photo as the arch collapsed and sadly he also snapped me, a picture he quickly sold to the Sunday Papers, and then Harry Wallace came up to me, "I bet you think you're bloody clever!"

"Yes!" I agreed, "Considering I didn't do any proper training."

"Well I covered my bet, laid it off what do you think of that?" he said.

"Sandra can start her training on Monday, Good bye." I said in a delightfully pleasant yet hugely sarcastic manner.

Henry wasn't amused, he too had laid off the bet and he was sure I'd lose.

"Bloody hell where did that finish come from?" Henry asked.

"Pulling your damned carts of course," I explained.

"I bet you'd lose." he said.

"Yes," I agreed, "Getting bladdered is an unusual training regime, did you lose much?"

"No laid it all off." he said.

"Got yourself a Ponygirl though." I said, "Lovely action Sandra, no muscle though."

"Oh yes, I forgot, hey I got one over on bloody Wally after all, come on lass, they do champion Fish and Chips on seafront.

It wasn't quite that simple, some chap wanted an interview to Cam corder and then there was the medal ceremony and the Mayor's speech and then eventually when a young chap returned my heels we were finally able to get to the chip shop, which in that glorious English way had shut for lunch.

We dined in the pub, we ordered a ploughman's each and sat down, the TV was on and then suddenly after the local news there was the sport and there I was, all lip gloss and blonde curls and Oh no, the interview, I cringed "All I could think of was my poor boobies were bouncing and I wanted it to stop so I ran even quicker," I had lisped not realising it was for TV, oh my god!

They spotted me, the chaps in the Pub, "Give us a flash then Darlin'" was one of the more polite suggestions, "Yeah meal's on the house if you flash your boobs."

Well it was free food so I just whipped my Tee shirt off threw the uplift bra at Henry then I pulled my sports bra back into place and took a bow.

I don't think they expected it but we still got our food for free!

"Look this training," Henry said, "I got just the thing at farm, bloke as plays Euphonium for Rattenthorpe Brass Band made us a couple."

My heart sank, more indignities, but never mind, I was sure I could cope.

To be continued.