AFS Driver

"Yes, doctor."

"When the aspirin is working you should start to move around, gently at first. Don't overdo it."

"I'll make sure he doesn't," Mary said.

+++

That afternoon, when the aspirin had taken effect, Mary had to dress me including my disreputable gardening trousers. I couldn't have done it by myself. She supported me as I walked very slowly across the road and into the air raid shelter. Mary had never been inside it and was startled at how large it was. There was a gas-proof airlock at the entrance and in there was a small stationary engine that powered the electricity generation and the ventilation system. Beyond that was the main living area with a bedroom and bathroom leading off before the kitchen and store rooms.

"It's nearly as large as my house," Mary said.

"Not quite," I replied, "but I had intended it for my wife and I for weeks if necessary. We have light from batteries topped up by the generator, running water and sewage. The cooking and heating is by paraffin but we can't use those without having the ventilation running. I have fifty gallons of paraffin and sixty gallons of diesel for the stationary engine. Replacing those supplies might be difficult but they should last for months if not more than a year. Stupidly I didn't have spare clothing down here."

"Your food stocks are amazing, Albert."

"They are, but boring. Lots of tins and packets all from 1937. Which reminds me. Can you support me to the Air Raid Warden's office?"

"Yes, it's only fifty yards. Why?"

"The wreck of my house could be salvaged for building materials. I would rather that was done officially than just looted. As they dismantle it they could try to find any of my personal possessions that survived the bomb and the fire. There should be something left that would be useful. Except my clothes. I watched my wardrobe burning while I was trapped."

It took me longer than I expected to walk that fifty yards, even with Mary supporting me. The Air Raid Warden took one look at me and insisted I sat down while I was given a cup of sweetened tea.

I explained what I thought should happen to the remains of my house. The Air Raid Warden would arrange at the weekend for some of the heavy rescue squad to dismantle the heap and use a Boy Scout troop, with their trek carts, to move the salvaged materials to a secure building depot at the end of our street. If I could be around while that was being done, they could check with me if they found anything that was of personal interest.

Mary and I agreed that I would be in or near my air raid shelter when the work was being done. I left to walk very slowly back to Mary's house. Once there she helped me to undress before I got back on the bed naked. Even wearing clothes for that short a time had been painful. Mary applied more petroleum jelly, gave me two more aspirin, and I went back to sleep.

+++

On the Saturday May dressed me again and I walked across the road to my air raid shelter behind the wreck of my house. She brought a chair and a folding card table outside. I sat on that chair while Mary made tea, with powdered milk, for the workers.

By lunchtime about a quarter of the pile had been sorted and moved. I had been delighted that they had found the drawer from my bedside cabinet. Inside was my wallet, my cheque book, my bunch of keys and the cuff links that had been my last present from my wife. Most of the keys were for the house doors which no longer existed, but there were spare keys for the car, the garage and the air raid shelter. Also there was my ration book and my National Identity Card.

I passed the ration book to Mary.

"That's great," she said, "but we'll have to tell Olive. She was arranging to get replacements for you."

After lunch they brought me a battered and scorched trunk that had been in the loft. It was still locked, but the key for it was on my bunch. I had forgotten its existence. I passed the key to Mary to open. Inside were two formal suits -- the morning suit I wore when we married, and my evening suit with stiff fronted shirt. I couldn't wear them to work. But, to my delight, there were two pairs of formal black shoes. They would be much easier to wear than my ancient army boots.

The workers were delighted that they had been able to recover at least a half of the roof tiles from my house. Because my house had been so large, they now had enough to replace the whole of a terraced house's roof. They had many roof timbers as well and were getting down close to the floor of the bedrooms. Almost at the end of Saturday they reached the remains of my bed. Underneath they found a wrecked suitcase but the contents were undamaged. Those contents included my photo album, including my wedding photos and holiday pictures of my wife. I was ecstatic that I had that.

As I flipped through that album the tears were running down my face. It was a record of so many happy memories. Mary kissed my cheek and hugged me as I sat there, remembering. Our house might have been destroyed but no bomb could destroy my memories of the woman I had loved. Mary's arms around me told me that someone else still loved me. She couldn't replace Helen, but Mary gave me hope for the future.

After a final cup of tea, the workers stopped for the day. They had piled many of my salvaged possessions in one of the Air Raid shelter's storerooms. They had emptied the things I had kept in there into the other storeroom. I kept things I no longer needed but might find useful later in the air raid shelter -- except the trunk in the loft which I had forgotten. I would have to go through that heap of salvage later, when I was fit enough, but as yet I had no clothes I could wear to work. The additional clothing coupons hadn't arrived yet so I couldn't order a new suit.

Olive arrived just in time for the final cup of tea. Mary showed her the ration book and the National Identity Card.

"Good," Olive said. "Although I've put in a request, the authorities usually take several weeks to respond. I'll cancel that. Any clothing coupons yet?"

"No," I said. "Although they've found my wedding suit and my evening suit, I can't wear them to work. How long?"

"Probably a few more days, and then you'll have to get the suit made."

"Oh. I was hoping to go back to work after next weekend. I can't really go in these gardening trousers."

"But you might have your replacement AFS uniform by then, Albert. I know it has been ordered." Olive said.

When I wanted to go back to Mary's house I had stiffened up. Mary and Olive had to support me across the road and then the two of them had to undress me and put me on the bed.

The two of them applied more petroleum jelly and I was almost purring as they stroked me.

"I wish..." Olive started to say.

"What do you wish, Olive?" I asked.

"I wish I could use that," she said, pointing at my erection. "It is larger than my husband's. I would be happy with his, but he's in North Africa."

"And you're married," I objected.

"I know. Mary isn't and I'm jealous. She's going to claim that before she lets you go."

"If she were to, I'd probably scream in agony," I said. "I still hurt too much."

"But by the end of next week? She probably could if she's gentle. But I shouldn't."

Olive leant over me and kissed me on the lips. Her hand strayed down to stroke my erection.

"Olive!" I protested.

"But it salutes me every time it sees me, Albert. You can't say it doesn't want me."

"That's an instinctive reaction to an attractive woman, Olive, but my brain would probably object if it was used by a married woman."

"And Mary is a widow?"

"I am," Mary said, "and I will want it, Olive. Hands off! I'm going downstairs to prepare our meal. You can stay with him but remember he's mine."

Mary left Olive with me.

"Olive? You're the local WVS organiser. How can you spend so much time with me?" I asked.

"Albert, it's because this suburb hasn't really been affected by the blitz. The bomb that destroyed your house is the only one that has caused any serious damage locally. The rest of the bomb load fell on the allotments and no one apart from you was hurt. My office has a disabled woman in a wheelchair who is the telephonist. She has two girl guides with bicycles as messengers. The girl guides provide two messengers on a rota except during school hours. The telephonist knows where I am and could send a girl guide to fetch me if I was needed. But that's unlikely. Most of my WVS team are working with a tea van in the East End because they're not needed here. If something happens I have more women I could ask to help. So far, I haven't needed them."

"OK. I appreciate your attention but I'm recovering slowly, Olive."

"The colour of your bruises suggests that you have so way to go. But, while Mary is away..."

Olive shed her uniform jacket and climbed on to the bed beside me. She hugged me with my head against her breasts. That was pleasant. I drifted off to sleep, only waking when Mary brought the evening meal. By then Olive was sitting beside the bed wearing her jacket.

"Thank you, Olive," Mary said.

"For what?" Olive asked.

"For hugging Albert when I was downstairs."

"You knew?"

"Yes, I came upstairs for a moment to ask Albert how he wanted his potatoes. He was asleep in your arms so I went away again."

Olive left shorty after propping me up so I could eat. Something Olive had said was nagging at the back of my mind. Eventually I remembered it.

"Telephone!" I said suddenly.

"What are you talking about, Albert?" Mary asked.

"My house had a telephone. It was the only private one in the street. I had it at first because I was a senior manager but later because of the AFS. It was wrecked when my house was destroyed..."

"Don't worry, Albert. The Air Raid warden and your AFS commander have asked for the GPO to reconnect it to your air raid shelter. It might take a couple of weeks but it is being replaced."

"AFS I can understand, but the Air Raid warden?"

"What the warden might want is use of one of your storerooms as an ARP post if his office is destroyed. He would need a telephone."

But the storerooms are, or will be, too full. I need to get rid of stuff if a storeroom might be needed as an ARP office."

+++

On the Sunday the heavy rescue squad was back. During the day they got down to the ground floor. The lower parts of the back parlour and kitchen were almost untouched, protected by the retaining wall on my sloping garden. All my food supplies were unharmed, kept in the lower kitchen cupboards. My pots, pans and crockery were mangled or smashed. The twisted aluminium pans went for recycling. From the back parlour they had retrieved my wife, Helen's, treadle sewing machine and all her sewing supplies.

"Good," Mary said. "I can use that. I haven't got a sewing machine. I was going to inherit my mother's but she's still using it. I might be able to make some clothes for you, Albert, but I'm not competent enough to make a suit even if we had the material, which we haven't. I could start by making you a nightshirt -- that's easier than pyjama trousers."

At the end of Sunday the remains of my house had either been removed or were piled up for collection during the week. Anything valuable or in short supply was already in the secure yard.

I had a large heap of salvaged items to assess and also the items that I had stored in the Air Raid shelter a long time ago. Although I was moving better I still hurt so I would need to take the sorting slowly.

That night I was naked again in Mary's bed but this time I had a naked Mary beside me. I wasn't sure I was yet recovered enough even for her to ride me, but it was nice to have Mary's body pressed against mine.

+++

The first few days of the following week Mary and I spent in the Air Road shelter sorting the salvaged items. Some items would be useful for others but not for me. Olive and some of her WVS volunteers removed them to allocate to people who had lost things in air raids.

On Wednesday my extra clothing coupons arrived. Mary supported me to the local tailor's shop. He said I had enough coupons for a suit and two shirts. I could buy the shirts now but the suit would take at least a week. I might have to wear my AFS uniform to work on Monday -- if the company doctor declared me fit for work, and if the AFS uniform arrived in time.

BY Thursday we had emptied about half of the storeroom with the salvaged items. Helen's treadle sewing machine was set up in the living area. Mary was practising her dated skills on scraps of material before she tried to make me a nightshirt.

On Friday morning my AFS uniform arrived. It hurt, but I was able to dress myself in it. I was wearing it when the company doctor arrived late afternoon. She was impressed that I had been able to dress myself but wanted me to strip again so she could examine me. She watched carefully as I took my clothes off. Once naked, my erection saluted her again.

"That's impressive, Albert. So are the colour of your bruises," she said, "But I think you can go back to work next week."

"How about my duties as an AFS driver?" I asked.

"Um. I think you could try Sunday evening, but if you do, rest on Monday. I'll write a report that you and Mary can resume work on Tuesday. OK?"

"Yes, doctor, thank you."

As soon as the doctor had gone, Mary and Olive, who had been waiting in the kitchen, wanted to know the doctor's verdict. They hadn't given me time to dress myself so I was still naked on the bed when they arrived. They both climbed on the bed and pressed themselves against my naked body as I told them what the doctor had said.

"Your new suit won't be ready until Wednesday at the earliest," Mary said.

"I know. I'll have to go to work in my AFS uniform, Mary."

"It's a shame you are so large, Albert," Olive said, "or I could lend you one of my husband's suits. He won't need them until he is back from the Africa campaign."

"And you wouldn't fit into Joshua's old suits," Mary said, "Olive, would you want them for the WVS clothing store? They're no use just hanging in the wardrobe in the spare room."

"Are you sure, Mary?" Olive asked.

"Yes, I kept them as a reminder, but now I have Albert, I don't need reminding. I need to move on..."

"Do I have any say in this?" I asked plaintively.

"No." The two women chorused before Mary leant over me to kiss me.

"You're mine, Albert, and when you have fully recovered I'll show you what I can do for you." Mary said.

"What you can do for me? You have already done so much. You've looked after me, fed me..."

"But I want more, Alfred," Mary replied. "I want all of you and in my bed every night. Olive? We know he likes your tits. Could you?"

Before I knew what Mary was asking, Olive's bare breasts were smothering my face. Mary's moved downwards and took my erection into her mouth. I was gasping for breath as she expertly aroused me while Olive's breasts squashed against my mouth before easing a tit into my gaping mouth. I panted through my nose as Mary took me close to the edge again and again. Eventually the two of them were too much for me and I came into Mary's mouth.

I went to sleep with my head squashed between two sets of naked breasts. Olive woke me up later and helped me to dress before we went downstairs for an evening meal.

That night I was wearing the nightshirt Mary had made for me but I had a naked Mary pressed against me. On the Saturday morning she lifted it before gently positioning herself and supporting herself on her hands and knees before she carefully rode me to a climax. Despite her care it hurt on my bruises but it was worth the pain to have real sex with Mary.

During the morning the heavy rescue squad loaded the rubble that was all that was left of my house onto several lorries to be used as hard core to repair bomb carters in roads a few miles away from last night's bombs. Our local sirens hadn't sounded because the bombers didn't come close.

My new AFS uniform was delivered that afternoon. I hung it up in the bedroom of the air raid shelter to let the creases drop out.

Mary and I spent the day in the air raid shelter sorting through the things I had put in there before the war. We knew exactly what had been salvaged from my wrecked house because we had seen the items brought in, but I had forgotten what I had put in store.

I found a suitcase of my wife' Helen's, clothes that I had packed up after her death. We took that back to Mary's house. She would sort through the suitcase, decide whether to keep anything, what could be used to make other clothes, and what could go to Olive's WVS clothing store. Olive had already collected Mary's husband, Joshua's, clothes. They would have all been much too small for me, and not enough material to make anything useful for me.

I sorted out a pile of useful things that Olive might be able to distribute to families who were in temporary accommodation. I hadn't used anything in that store for at least three years and unless they duplicated things destroyed by the bombing, I didn't need them. I had equipped the air raid shelter's kitchen with utensils and stores. Together with the food recovered from the house's kitchen I had enough of some things for months. By the end of Saturday we had sorted about half of the stored items and had a large pile for Olive to collect. She would arrange for the scouts to come with their trek cart.

In bed that Saturday night Mary was slightly annoyed that I didn't want to wear the nightshirt she had made for me. I explained that when she had made love to me the nightshirt had rubbed against my still sore places. She accepted that reluctantly because she assumed, rightly, that I wanted her to make love to me again. She did, and I enjoyed it more because my sore patches were not being abraded. I went to sleep feeling loved and with Mary's naked body still lying on me.

+++

On Sunday Mary and I had agreed that we would spend the morning sorting more of the storeroom in the air raid shelter and I would sleep after lunch, ready for duty as an AFS Driver on Sunday night.

The sorting made me wonder why I had kept so much stuff. I suppose it was because I had space in the air raid shelter. It was easier just to store it than sort it, and before the war most of it would have raised only a few pennies -- not worth the effort. But Olive would find most of it very useful now.

After lunch I went to bed in the air raid shelter with Mary's naked body pressed against me. She cooked our evening meal in the air raid shelter's kitchen and was surprised how well equipped it was. I was still wearing my disreputable gardening trousers.

Mary helped me to dress in my new AFS uniform. I admired myself in the mirror. For the first time for a fortnight I looked like a respectable middle-class gentleman instead of a tramp wearing worn out trousers.

At ten o'clock I drove my car with the trailer pump to the East End docklands. I would be sited on a dockside, pumping water to keep the tanks on the fire engines topped up as the fought the inevitable air raids because there would be a full moon in a cloudless sky.

By midnight my pump had been in operation continuously for an hour. Unusually I was on my own. The younger man who normally helped me was on the end of a hose trying to put out a warehouse fire.

Suddenly some burning timbers crashed to the road about thirty yards away. They broke one of the hoses supplying the fire engines but were soon extinguished by the escaping water. I grabbed a spare hose length, turned off the pressure on that line and went to replace the damaged section. I had just connected it and was about to go back to turn to the pump to turn the pressure on again when my AFS colleague came running towards me. He had been sent to find out why the water flow had stopped.