Demons Slain

"Tell him to lie back and think of England."

Angela smirked. "He hasn't got enough energy to think of anything. He's losing weight and so am I. All this action is doing us both a power of good."

I did have one problem. In hospital it was simple, you asked the nurse for a bottle and she brought it and closed the screens whilst you used it. In the hotel room I had to hobble to the bathroom. The plaster had a stirrup built in with a support just below the knee so that I didn't put pressure on the broken bone. Angela caught me the second time I was making that perilous journey. "Oh no you don't, Mister!" She was adamant. I was then almost carried to the bathroom where Angela refused to leave. "Don't be so silly, Greg. You need support and it's not as if I haven't seen one before. Now come on let's get this show on the road. I won't look." Of course she looked, she was a woman. After she looked there was silence then she whispered in shock. "Bloody hell, Greg! I've never seen one as nice as that. That could make some woman very happy." I was blushing anyway so my face could not get any redder than it was.

Millie came to see me too, not as often as Angela, but in some ways I enjoyed her visits more than the ebullient Angela. I was sitting in the chair, there was no need to stay in bed all the time; when Millie knocked the door and entered. She came in carrying one of my cushions. I had forgotten all about the samples I carried in the car. She put my mind at rest. "As soon as we heard about the accident, John went down to make sure if you were alright. He stayed until the breakdown crew came to load your car and before they took it, he and I got all your possessions out of the car. He was concerned that your stuff could disappear once the car was at the pound. We have put them in one of the storerooms." She indicated the cushion, it was a rich red silk with a heraldic badge embroidered onto it and fringed with three inch gold bullion. "I could not get over how beautiful these cushions are. They must be very expensive."

"That one will sell in the shops at about one hundred and fifty."

Millie was shocked. "How much?" I repeated the price. "Golly! If I had known that I would have tried to be more careful. I'm afraid that this one got caught on the boot lid." She held it up so I could see. The bullion had been torn slightly away from the body.

"Don't worry about it. The insurance will cover everything."

Millie looked worried even so. "I could repair it." She offered. "I studied needlework at college. It was about the only thing I was good at."

"You really don't need to do that, Millie. It's only a sample."

"Please let me? I would take care."

"Well if you wish, but you don't have to bother."

Millie continued to examine the cushion. "They are lovely, and if I am right that embroidery is done by hand."

"Yes. There are machines that can do it, but to justify the cost of setting it up we would have to do dozens at a time. Our orders tend to be in multiples of tens, rather than hundreds."

"Do many ask for their own coat of arms?"

"Yes. We have supplied more than one or two Dukes and Earls." I grinned. "Even the Palace."

That stopped Millie and she sat with her mouth open. "You mean Buckingham Palace?"

"Yes. The one that sits at the end of the Mall."

"Does that mean you have met..?"

"No." I laughed. "I have only been twice and that was to meet the Clerk of Works when they were re-furbishing the State Rooms. I thought she might have popped in to offer me a cup of tea, but she wasn't around." We laughed. Millie got up.

"While you are up I'll change your bed." She left and returned quickly with some bed linen and clean towels. Quickly she stripped the bed and remade it. "Are you happy sitting there or do you want to get into bed?"

I bit my tongue as the flippant reply 'only if you get in as well' came to my mind. "No I'll stay here for a while."

She collected the dirty sheets and towels. "I must get on, what would you like for dinner this evening? John says you can have anything you want as long as it's not foreign." Typical John. But I knew that if I asked for Lasagne he would make the best Lasagne I had ever tasted, but wouldn't he grumble about it?

"I don't get that hungry, but if he would plate up whatever he thinks I would like, please tell him a small portion would be good."

"From what I have heard a small portion is something you don't need to worry about." She blushed and got flustered. "Oh. I shouldn't have said that."

I smiled. "Don't worry. I won't tell Angela."

At the door she turned. "Why do I get on with you so well? I shouldn't after the way I treated you."

"I don't threaten you, and you don't threaten me. It's simple. We can be friends without the ogre in the cupboard."

She nodded. "Yes. That must be it."

Millie brought my meal tray most evenings and would return half an hour later to collect the dirty dishes. At these times she started to linger and we talked. Gradually the whole of her married history was revealed and I grew angry at the way her husband treated her. He was one of those men who believed that a wife was a chattel that he owned along with the furniture. Someone who had no rights except to keep the house clean, cook his meals and become a receptacle for his sperm whenever he chose; nor complain when he took the fancy to deposit his sperm in another woman's body. That Millie worked as well; contributing to the household budget was of no consequence to him, sharing the household work didn't enter into his philosophy. I would sometimes, when she questioned me talk about my wife and describe her actions. We neither realised that these conversations acted as a catharsis, healing our respective wounds. Neither did either of us become aware of the eagerness to be together and just talk.

The day dawned in early November when I was finally allowed to hobble outside with a walking stick. I believed I could have walked much earlier, but Angela, supported by Millie had strongly vetoed any attempt at that. It was a cool clear day with a sharp bite in the air as I made my laborious way into the garden attended by my two nurses. I was wrapped up warmly; even so I would have ignored the cold just for the delight of breathing fresh air once more. We took the long way round to Arthur's throne, the direct path being deemed too steep for me. I sank thankfully onto the bench, not that I would let them know that it had taxed my strength. Millie produced from her pocket a packet of cigarettes and my lighter. I shook my head. "Thanks for the thought, Millie. But after going without for nearly two months I can't see the point of starting again."

Angela and Millie were wreathed in smiles. "Good for you Greg." Angela remarked. "When you finally kiss Millie, she won't taste your cigarette smoke."

"Pardon?" The shock was plain in my voice.

"Angela! What a thing to say." Millie remonstrated.

Angela shrugged her shoulders. "You two have been dancing around each other like moths to the light bulb. Neither of you know what's good for you, or won't recognise it. I just put into words the thoughts neither of you can utter. I've got to do the accounts now. Give me a call if you want help getting back."

If anything would guarantee an uncomfortable silence then Angela's words were it. The silence went on for what seemed hours to me, but of course was only a few minutes. At last I had to say something. "I feel like having a cigarette now, just to spite Angela."

Millie's little giggle was cut short. "Why? Don't you want to kiss me?"

I had been looking at the ground so I just turned my head a little to watch her face. Whatever reaction she had to my next words would show on her face first. "It's not a question of whether I would like to kiss you. It's a question of should I?"

Her face showed puzzlement. "Is that a yes or no?"

"It's neither. For the record I think that you are a very lovely lady. Of course I would like to kiss you. My hesitation is all about circumstances. The circumstances are that we are both recently divorced, we are both hurting and all our talking does not take away from the fact that we are vulnerable to ideas that may be attractive at the time, but may not be right for us in the long term. Does that make sense?"

Millie thought. She was still puzzled. "I...I think so. Is that a long way round of saying out of the frying pan and into the fire?" I had to laugh then. Millie had put into a simple aphorism that which I had needed a couple of dozen words to say. I explained why I laughed and she could see the humour, thank heavens. I didn't want to go back to the war we had fought when first we met. She smiled as I punished myself. "At least you recognise your own faults and can admit them. I like that in a man. And thank you for the compliment. I haven't been complimented in years. It's nice." There was a pregnant pause. "It would be nice to be kissed again."

I leaned over and used two fingers to gently turn her chin towards me. Gently I pressed my lips to hers. It was a very chaste kiss but her lips were warm and soft. I drew back and she smiled. "That was nice as well. Thank you."

"I need no thanks, kissing a lovely lady is a pleasure." Her smiled widened.

"I was thanking you for making me feel feminine again. You have a very gentle touch."

The exercise had tired me and after I had returned to my room I relaxed into the armchair that Angela, thoughtfully had moved in. My nurses had suggested that I get into bed, but really I had enough of that. I was eager to have the plaster taken off my leg and hoped that at the appointment next week the Doctor would agree. I was thankful that I no longer needed help in getting to the bathroom. I was enjoying the relaxation and my mind recalled the kiss that Millie and I had shared. Pleasant though it was my head was telling me that I shouldn't have done that. Would she read more into it? Did she think that it was the beginning of some kind of commitment? At least it was more of a cursory peck than a full blown kiss, the sort of kiss that friends would exchange rather than the kiss that betokened intimate feelings. I told myself that it wouldn't happen again. Then my senses asked, "didn't you enjoy it?" The truth was that yes I did enjoy it.

I was still debating with myself when Millie brought up my evening meal. It was a Shepherd's Pie and the aroma set my gastric juices to work immediately. "Where would you like it? On the table or on your lap?"

"I think on the table, and then I can get back to feeling like a normal human being again, rather than an invalid."

An hour later she came to collect the tray. We would usually have a chat at this time and tonight was no different, although the conversation was difficult at first. "Greg. I need to say something. About the kiss."

I waited, wanting her to say what was on her mind. "Yes."

"I am sorry. I was too forward; I sort of blackmailed you into kissing me. I wouldn't want you to think that there was any ulterior motive. As I said, I haven't been kissed in a long time and I suppose I wanted to see if I could enjoy it."

"And did you?"

She nodded shyly. "Yes." She said quietly.

"Millie. I haven't kissed a woman in more than three years; I didn't feel pressure to kiss you. A very lovely lady invited me to kiss her and I did. In addition, like you it was also a chance to see if I could enjoy it."

She looked up with a pleased smile on her face. "And?"

"I enjoyed it."

She seemed happy with the answer. "So without making promises and commitments we could kiss again, call it part of a re-learning curve."

I laughed. "You would make a great salesman you know." Millie laughed as well. "But a good salesman should know when he's made the sale and stop selling."

"What does that mean?"

I struggled to stand much to her alarm. "It means may I kiss you." She nodded.

The kiss was less chaste this time and Mille opened her lips and our tongues flirted fleetingly. I had put my arms around her and when our lips parted she made no move to remove herself from the embrace. Instead she tilted her head back slightly so she could see my face. "Not kissed a woman in three years?" She smiled. "All I can say, Mr. Hammond is that if you are out of practice, then God help the woman when you are in practice."

"And you, Miss Grainger are an absolutely delight to kiss."

"Try again then." She murmured softly. We did.

CHAPTER SIX

The plaster was removed from my leg after the appointment at the hospital, the Doctor professing satisfaction that my healing was coming along nicely. They put a support on the lower leg and recommended gentle exercise to build up the wasted muscles. My new car was delivered courtesy of the insurance and I planned to leave within a few days. I hadn't reckoned with my two nurses though, who together and separately vetoed my idea. Angela going as far as stealing the keys and hiding them, slipping them in the cleavage of her generous bosom. "Now get them if you dare." Her eyes gleamed. She seemed disappointed when I didn't try. She left my room muttering. "If it was Millie you would have been after them in a second."

I had been working again for a few days now, using the telephone to contact my regular customers, keeping in contact and writing some useful orders. Gill and Danny, my partners would send out samples by carrier if any were needed. The ad hoc system worked but it was no substitute for a physical call and I was impatient to get back to work.

Eventually came the day when I was fit to drive. It was with both joy and sadness that I left. Angela and Millie saw me off, consoled with my promise that I would be back soon. Millie's kisses the evening before I left had more passion in them and to tell the truth I was starting to think that we had something together, something more than friendship.

My return to the business was at the most hectic time of year for us. For some reason the run up to Christmas was always busy and filling the orders was a problem. Much of our product was made with specialist handwork, and skilled seamstresses were hard to find, we couldn't just go out into the market place and hire them. Therefore the increased demand was hard to satisfy without longer hours for everyone. I was back at the right time, as whilst I was not competent with a needle and thread, I could use a flatbed sewing machine and the over locker, therefore I could get on joining panels and leave the detailed intricate work to our seamstresses. Gill was our production manager; she had just about done everything in a workroom and knew the job inside out. Danny was an accountant and hated this time of year. He would be in despatch and was the only packer who would not forsake his suit and tie, much to everyone's amusement.

I didn't mind the Christmas rush. It kept me busy at a time when my calling was an interruption to my customers. My sister usually invited me for Christmas, which was not much fun as she would bring our conversation round to what went wrong in my marriage. A subject that I tried to avoid as assiduously as she would try to talk about it. I lived my life and let others get on with theirs. My sister lived with a rigid set of almost Calvinistic rules and criticised volubly those who offended her rules. I, it would seem did that frequently. It was March before my journey plan took me back to the West Country. I had tried to curb my impatience as I came to realise that it was not just the welcome that I received at the hotel, nor the good customers and the orders I could write. Neither was it the scenery that so gladdened my heart. It was Millie who I was eager to see.

The hotel looked the same, the drive remained a desert of stone chippings upon which the car tyres crunched, occasionally flipping one up to bounce off the under-body. The door stood open and the reception unchanged with its tired sofas and indecipherable paintings. Nothing had changed yet everything had changed. Millie was at reception her smile drawing me to her; she looked around as if checking to see if we were observed then ran out and into my arms. I held her close; I could feel her heart beating as quickly as mine. She looked up wordlessly asking for a kiss. Our lips joined. This was not the kiss that we wanted. I was not one for public exhibition, nor, I suspected, was Millie. "It's so good to see you again, Greg. The place hasn't been the same without the tenant in room nine."

"It's good to see you, Millie. This is a much better reception that I got last year. I could get used to this."

She smiled. "Don't remind me. I was a bitch to you. I don't welcome every guest like this, only one certain one. How long will you stay?"

"I have to leave early Thursday morning." Her face showed a little moue of disappointment. I continued. "But I am taking some time off early April, a couple of weeks. Could you accommodate me then?"

"If we are fully booked, I will kick someone out to make room for you." She laughed. "Can we spend some time together?"

"I was hoping so."

"I would like that." She smiled.

My customers received me well, happy to see me back on my feet again. The news of the accident had of course been passed on to them. Much of the time was spent explaining exactly what had happened. I had got used to this so my tale was told with practice and economy. I returned to the hotel each evening tired but pleased with the day as my customers had held back on their ordering, waiting for me to call again. Taking orders is great, writing them every evening, translating my notes into a format our production could understand was a pain.

Spring comes early in the South West so even though it was March and much of the country was still experiencing winter conditions, here I could enjoy my walk around the gardens with only an anorak to keep out the cool wind. Later I would go to the bar and sit quietly with a whisky. Angela joined me. We chatted happily, laughing at each other's bad jokes. She had become very blunt of late, particularly when the subject of Millie came up, or even when it didn't.

"I'm really angry with Millie." She told me with a smile. "Here I was lining up a replacement for Tony, and she comes along and steals him from right under my nose. So when are you going to take her to bed?" Angela had this habit of voicing outrageous statements.

I would normally grin and make a joke out of it. But not this time. "Angela. I don't think that is on the agenda. We are friends, perhaps good friends but that is it."

She sighed. "Absolute rubbish. Friends you say? Well you can believe that if you wish. I know what my eyes are seeing and it ain't friends I see. I see two good people who are getting closer and closer. You walk through the reception and Millie's eyes are following you all the time. You were in the dining room earlier and did the same thing. Millie walked past the big doors and your eyes were glued to her. Don't tell me you're just friends. Then of course you are taking a break and guess where you're going to stay? I am certain that you wouldn't come here for a holiday unless a lady who takes your fancy happened to work in this hotel. Do me a favour, Greg. When you're here take her out one evening and then take her to bed. All this celibacy is not good for you. She'll be happy. You'll be happy, and I will exhaust Tony when I think about you two together. That's what you need if you ask me."

"Actually Angela, I didn't ask."

My romantic counsellor laughed. "Well you got the answer anyway."

It was a different me who arrived early April. The suits were left in the wardrobe back home, the samples were stored at the warehouse and I was in holiday mood. Angela was on reception. She smiled broadly and I returned the smile. "Room nine as usual, Greg?"