The Organist Entertains Ch. 02

"We'll see," he said, "But I've got Joe and Alice coming tomorrow for the summer holidays; they'll probably be around until the middle of September. You will have Abigail here until school starts again so we probably won't have that much time to ourselves."

"No, I suppose not," said Trish.

Meanwhile Helen was walking up the street towards Trish's house. She had been to the dentist and decided on a whim to go round and visit her rather than hear the gossip over the phone. She could easily pass as your 'typical' primary school teacher type as she was dressed in a yellow floral printed skirt, cream top and cream jacket. She had strawberry blonde shoulder length hair with a fringe and wore gold rimmed spectacles. At thirty-two years of age, she was happily married to her husband and mother to their two young sons. The only time she had ever worked was when she left school when she worked as an office junior in a solicitor's office for six months where she met her husband. She never used the front door to Trish's house, preferring instead to squeeze past her car which was always on the drive and use the kitchen door on the side instead. She tapped on the door which was half open.

"Trish, are you there," she called.

There was no answer so she pushed the door open a bit more. She could see Trish's skirt, underskirt and knickers on the kitchen floor where they had been abandoned, together with her blouse and bra which were on the kitchen worktop.

"Strange place to leave dirty washing," she thought to herself. "Why not put them in the washing basket?"

She went into the kitchen, her heels clattering on the kitchen tiles. As she passed the kitchen table, her shoulder bag caught against one of the half empty mugs of coffee which Peter had left there earlier. It fell to the ground, fortunately not breaking, but some of the now cold liquid caught the side of her skirt.

"Damn and blast!" she muttered to herself.

Upstairs, Peter heard the noise.

"There's someone in the kitchen downstairs," he whispered. "Did you leave the side door open?"

"Yes," said Trish. "I hope it's not burglars."

"I'd better go and investigate," said Peter. He had nothing to defend himself with, but crept down the stairs into the hall still totally naked.

Helen had gone in the lounge in search of her friend and Peter could see her shadowy figure through the gap in the door. She turned round to come back out again and screamed when she saw him in the doorway.

"Oh God, Peter. You gave me such a shock!" she said shaking like a leaf. "Where's Trish?"

"I'm here," said Trish, standing behind him. She had had the presence of mind to grab the stained sheet from the bed and was trying to contain her dignity by wrapping it round her as best she could. "Is that you Helen? I thought you were at the dentist."

"I was," said Helen. "But he had a cancellation so I got in a bit earlier. It was nothing major, only a check-up and a scale and polish."

Poor Peter. Once again he had been caught out and was standing with his arms by his sides with everything on display. Like Trish the day before, Helen found it difficult to avert her gaze.

"Look, I'd better go back upstairs and get dressed," he said. "Sorry about this." He turned and Trish stood aside to let him pass. The two ladies watched as he disappeared down the hallway and upstairs. Helen started giggling.

"Oh, Trish, You haven't been...he hasn't has he...he has hasn't he!" She was quite good at putting two and two together. Trish gave her a friendly thump on the shoulder.

"Sssh," she whispered, "He'll hear you."

"I see what you mean about him being...um...you know...big," giggled Helen.

Peter had quickly dressed and was now coming back down the stairs. The two ladies ceased their banter.

"Look, I'd better be off," he said to Trish. "I'll see myself out. I've got some shopping to do ready for Joe and Alice coming tomorrow. I'll probably see you at church on Sunday, and I guess I'll see Abigail at choir practice on Friday night. "

"You will," said Trish. "You take care now."

He closed the door behind him leaving Helen and Trish alone.

"Well, lady, you've certainly got some explaining to do," said Helen when he had gone.

"All in good time," said Trish. "I need to get dressed first." She stooped to pick up her lower clothes from the floor and her upper clothes from the worktop. The sheet slipped a little as she did so and Helen could see that she had nothing on under it. "Can you make us both a coffee," she added, trying not to bring any more attention to herself.

She brushed past Helen into the hallway and up the stairs. Trish knew she would want to know everything that had happened, not only on Sunday, but also that afternoon. Still, she consoled herself; at least Helen wasn't a gossip, was she!