Freebie Ch. 03

"He's coming straight over; he'll be here in twenty minutes."

"But what did he say when you were going to tell him what Mr Spencer said?"

"He just said, never mind, so long as he's signed it."

"Well I guess we'll just have to see what he says when he gets here. Oh, isn't there anything you need to do to make sure you're ready for when the hairdresser gets here?"

"Only be ready to tell her to piss-off. I told you, Graham can go fuck himself."

"Please Mary. Lets not be too hasty about this, I know you think a lot about this Peter fella, but don't get your hopes up. I'm not sure he isn't just trying something on to get into your knickers himself."

I gave him an evil look, and said,

"If that's all you can say, I think it would be better if you kept quiet."

"I'm only..."

"Only fuck-all! I don't want to hear it."

And with that I stormed out into the kitchen. Whilst out there I made us both some sandwiches and then returned to the lounge where we sat silently eating them. Then the knocker on the front door broke the silence, and I went to see who it was. I was pleased to see it was Peter, and I hurriedly ushered him in.

I handed him the paper, and he immediately put his name under Graham's, and then signed it as a witness.

"Ok I'll get this to my legal boys, and make sure it's kosher. As soon as I know it's watertight, I'll ring you back."

"But what should we do until then?"

"About what?"

"He's sending some girls here to doll me up, and he wants me to go with him tonight to some function."

"Have you accepted?"

"I haven't, but I think Gerry gave him the impression I'd go."

"Ring him back now and stall him. Tell him you've already got something arranged, don't tell him you won't do it, just make excuses about tonight. I don't want you pissing him off until we are sure this is going to do the trick."

"What shall I tell him I'm doing?"

"Well I think after these last few days, you could do with a night out. What is your favourite type of evening entertainment?"

"I don't know, maybe a film or going out to a pub for a meal."

"A meal? Don't forget I saw you eating the other night. You hardly eat enough to keep a sparrow alive. I don't think eating is your first love, otherwise you wouldn't have a waist like yours."

"Well I used to like ballroom dancing, but Gerry isn't keen on it, so I haven't been for years."

"I wasn't asking what Gerry liked; it's you who needs the treat."

"That's it. Can I use your phone?"

He dialled a number, and then,

"Hello, this is Mr Harris. Can you tell me, is the ballroom open tonight?"

"Yes sir."

"Well I have two guests of mine who will be arriving around eight. I'd like you to let them have my table. My membership number is 876954. Ok have you got that?"

"Yes sir."

"Thank you. Bye."

He put the phone down, and said,

"That's it sorted, it's the Marriott Hotel in town, so it's not too far to go. All you have to do is book a cab, and make sure your good lady has a wonderful time."

Gerry didn't look that impressed,

"You tell us to go out and enjoy ourselves, and you arrange for us to go to a dance? And ballroom dancing at that. My god, I'll be bored out of my brain."

"The idea was to give your wife a treat. She's the one whose been carrying the strain these last few days."

"Her, what about me? I'm the one being threatened with prison."

"Yes but you were the one who committed the crime. The only thing she's done wrong was to marry you. Now are you going to take her, or do you want me to do it for you?"

"You? So that's your game. I knew you were after another fuck."

"For your information, some of us can appreciate what we've already been given, and feel we ought to do something to pay back our debts. And yes I'd love to take your wife out, it would make me proud to been seen out with a girl as gorgeous as her on my arm. But if I did, she'd be treated like a lady, and the only way the night would end up with personal contact, would be if she initiated it. So are you taking her out or not?"

"But it'll cost a bomb."

"Don't talk silly. You've got four hundred quid from those two men this morning. And I think you'll agree you owe your Mary a treat. It'll cost you no more than a tenner each way for the cab. The entrance and my table will be free. The meal and drinks won't come to more than eighty. So for just one hundred, you can show your little lady how much she means to you."

Gerry's answer wasn't a resounding confirmation,

"I Guess so."

Then Peter looked at me,

"Tonight is your night. I'll try my best to get this paper sorted by my legal men, and if possible let you know before you go out. But whether you know or not, just forget about the problems and have a good time."

Then as he walked to the door he said to Gerry,

"Make sure she knows how much she's appreciated."

Gerry flicked his hand up to his head in a mock salute, as he sarcastically said,

"Yes sir."

Then as Peter walked down the path, and was just about out of earshot, he added,

"Fuck you!"

"Gerry! There was no need for that."

"Who the fuck does he think he is. Telling me what I should or shouldn't do. You're my fucking wife."

"But you will ring Graham and tell him I can't go with him tonight?"

"I'm not sure we should upset him."

My last request to Gerry have been just that, a request, asked in an imploring tone. But his answer didn't please me, and I snapped back,

"I don't care what you think. Either you ring that dirty sod or I will. And if I ring him, I'll get him so wound up, he'll fucking explode."

"Keep your hair on. I'll ring him; you go and clear away those plates and things from our lunch."

I stormed out into the kitchen, and began to clear away and wash-up all the stuff from our lunch-time snack. I guess it was about fifteen minutes later while I was still busy in the kitchen, I heard a knock on the front door. Gerry answered it, and I could hear female voices coming into the house. As I left the kitchen, and made eye contact with the first of the three girls, she said,

"Hi Mary, where do you want us to put our gear?"

It took me by surprise; it was the girls who'd prepared me for that first photo shoot at graham's place. I hastily answered,

"Err. Can you just pile it all in the hall for a moment, and then you can all wait in the front room while I have a word with my husband."

They looked a little put-out by my request, but they followed my instructions, and while they went into the front room I dragged Gerry into the kitchen to find out what was going on.

"I thought I told you to cancel those girls?"

"Don't get all het-up, I phoned Mr Spencer, and he said it was too late to cancel, he'd have to pay them anyway. So he said being as we are going out tonight, you could have the beauty treatment on him."

"But he knows I'm not going out with him tonight?"

"Yes. He understands we've got our own lives. He says he'll give us a call in the morning to re-arrange the thing he'd got planned for tonight."

"Well ok. Hopefully by then Peter will have got that statement sorted, and we can tell Graham to go get fucked."

"Maybe. We'll see."

So I went up to my room with the three girls, and between them they worked on every part of my body. It was somewhere around five in the afternoon when I heard the phone down stairs, and I could hear Gerry answering it, but not what was being said. Gerry called up to me,

"It's Mr Harris, he's got good news for you; can you come to the phone?"

We have a phone in the bedroom, so with my hair still embroiled in clips and twirled rags, I picked it up. As I spoke, I could tell by the sound in the ear-piece, Gerry must still be listening down stairs.

"Hello, is that you Peter?"

"Yes, and I've got real good news. As far as Gerry is concerned, he can forget all about Graham's threats."

"Oh Peter, you don't know how much that means to us."

"Well it doesn't end there. Because Graham has, in effect, taken the responsibility for Gerry's actions, he has now made himself responsible for the insurance fraud. And no matter what he signed on that paper, that is a real fraud, and it has taken place."

"What does that mean?"

"It means, my lawyers have sent him an instruction, telling him to return all photos, videos and any kind of recorded material that he has, with you or Gerry. If he doesn't comply, he is under threat of his confession being brought to the attention of the authorities."

"Do you think he'll comply?"

"Well he'll have to at least hand over some of what he's taken, but no matter how much he keeps, he won't dare to show any of it to anyone else in case it finds its way into the public domain. He knows if that happens, he will end up serving the same sentence he forecast for Gerry. So all the stuff he took of you in compromising situations, is now safe. Gerry says your getting ready for your night out, you go and enjoy yourself, and do it knowing things are now sorted."

"Oh Peter, I know I'll never be able to pay you back for what you've done for us, but please come to see us tomorrow, and I'll at least try to show you how much we owe you."

"I'll come, but I won't hold you to promises of that sort. When tomorrow arrives, if you're still of a mind, and your Gerry is in agreement, maybe then I will take up your offer. But for now, go and let your hair down. Bye for now."

With that I dropped the receiver back, knowing Gerry had heard every word about Graham's videoing of my sexual antics, and my offer to Peter. I spent the rest of the afternoon being pampered and preened, and by seven in the evening, even if this does sound boastful, I looked absolutely stunning. I stood there looking at myself in the mirror, in the new underwear one of these girls had brought with her, and just like a couple of days previous, I had difficulty believing this was really me. From drab everyday housewife to drop dead gorgeous, and it had only taken just a few short hours. Then as I was looking in the mirror, the girl appeared behind me, holding up a dress. This was not an everyday going out dress, or even a going out to dinner sexy number; no, this was straight off 'Come Dancing', or some stage musical.

Flamboyant in style, and showy to the point of being blatantly erotic. The underwear I was already wearing must have been chosen with this kind of dress in mind, as the dress did little to cover it up, and it was only the underwear that provided any real flesh cover. My first reaction was; no way, and that was also my first words to the girl who was holding it up for me to see,

"No way. I can't go out in something like that."

"But I was told you were going to a high class ballroom function."

"Well I guess we are."

"Well in that case, everyone else will be wearing something along these lines, not necessarily as expensive as this, but just as revealing."

"Surely not? This is more like a stage costume for a chorus line dancer."

"I'm not being funny, but how long is it since you went to one of these dances."

"A while ago, I guess."

"Well I'm not kidding, this is normal these days, especially since the TV and films have made this kind of dancing popular. In fact, I was worried you might think this dress a little understated."

"My god no. I guess I can try it on and see what my husband thinks."

So dressed in this 'understated' dress I made my way down stairs, and into the front room where Gerry was waiting. I think the reaction from us both was the same; I know the initial comment was,

"My god!"

Was spoke as one, so overlapping were our voices, it was closer than an echo. I'd never before seen him in a tuxedo, complete with bow-tie, and when I said it was hard to believe the girl in the mirror was me; it was hard to believe the man in my front room was Gerry, he looked so smart and handsome. So I guess it wasn't surprising Gerry found my appearance difficult to take in.

You can imagine the kind of remarks we made about each other, and eventually, we both came to terms with ourselves, and each others appearances. I had thought going on past experience, he wouldn't have wanted to be seen out with me looking like this, but to my surprise, he was very complimentary. The three girls left, and at around seven-thirty, someone was knocking at our door. I said,

"The taxis early."

"It isn't a taxi; we're going in Mr Spencer's limo."

My heart dropped,

"Gerry, don't tell me he's waiting out there?"

"No. He's lent us his car. He said as you weren't going with him tonight, he had no use for it."

"I don't like being beholden to him."

"Relax, it's saving us money."

I decided to let the subject drop, and out we went to the limo. It did feel grand; both dressed to the nines, and being driven in this big car. We even got a voice-over from the driver telling us there was champagne on ice in the drinks cabinet, and we were to help ourselves. Gerry was soon pouring out the glasses, and we drank as the car carried us effortlessly to the ball. When the car pulled up in the reception courtyard, and we stepped out, I looked up at the big illuminated sign. 'CLUB EXOTIQUE'

I turned to Gerry,

"This isn't the right place. We're supposed to be going to the Marriott Hotel."

"It is right. Mr Spencer said they hold ballroom dancing here, and being as he's a member, we not only get in free and get a free table, but he also said our meals and all our drinks will be free."

"You tight fisted sod. You've brought us here, just to get out of paying one hundred measly quid."

"But this place is better than the one Mr Harris suggested, he says here they have professional dancers to act as dance partners, you know I hate dancing."

I reluctantly let him lead me in, and as we walked into what I can't deny was a sumptuous ballroom, I asked him,

"So am I going to find Graham appearing at some point during the evening?"

"No. We're here on our own."

"Well I might as well be on my own, I guess you'll be sitting at the bar drinking while I dance with a perfect stranger."

"But I did it for you."

"That's rich. So how do you make that out?"

"You like dancing, you know you do. I'm useless at it, and I always end-up either tripping you up or treading on your toes."

Now I hate to admit it, but there was more than a hint of truth in his statement. But for all his clumsiness on the dance floor, I'd much rather have spent this night with him than a stranger.

By now we were being shown to a table at the edge of the dance floor, and as a waiter handed us the menu, I could see Gerry's eyes were on stalks, looking at what looked like professional dancers as they stepped out across the floor. These dancers didn't look like girls out to have a good time, but more like competitors warming up for a dance competition. And their dresses, were as my dresser earlier had predicted, every bit as revealing if not more so than mine.

We ordered our meal, and again, I can't complain about anything to do with that part of the evening. The food and wine were wonderful, and we were treated like some kind of royalty. Then after we'd finished, and the table was cleared, up came a well dressed man, but he didn't look quite like one of the waiters.

"Excuse me sir, madam. I believe you would like to make use of our dance partner service?"

Gerry began to answer before I could stop him,

"Ah, yes, my wife would..."

I interrupted him,

"Please Gerry. Before you go to the bar, at least come on the floor for one dance."

Gerry looked at me, and then turning back to this man,

"It looks like we won't need you just yet, but once I've tripped over her dress a few times and she gets fed-up with my two left feet; then you can come back."

So the man left us, and we went out onto the floor. With Gerry, it wasn't really a case of dancing around, he'd just shuffle his feet, and no matter what dance was being played, we'd just slowly edge our way around the floor. But although I could tell he was hating every second, it felt so good to lay my head on his chest, knowing all the worries of the past week were now gone. I guess I was in a kind of dream as we slowly moved around the floor, with all these real dancers gliding past. Then my trance was broken as Gerry said,

"This is where I get off."

I opened my eyes, and lifted my head,

"What. Oh. We're back to our table."

"That's it girl, once around the floor is one too many times for me. As soon as that guy finds you a partner, I'm off to the bar."

Before I'd hardly re-seated myself, the man was back at our table, and asking Gerry,

"Do you require our partner service now sir?"

This time Gerry looked at me, as if to ask if I was ready, and I nodded.

"Yes, I think my wife is ready now."

The man now turned to face me,

"Would madam like me to bring the book, or would you prefer to come with me, and make your selection in person?"

Before I answered, Gerry quipped,

"My god, they've even got a menu for choosing the right man. I bet it's called a manu."

"Ignore my husband; he thinks he's a comedian. I'll come with you, its more important the partner is the right height, and I can judge that better by standing in front of him, rather than seeing him in a book and reading his measurement."

The man bowed his head, as he replied,

"As you wish madam, this way."

I walked in the direction he'd ushered, and he followed, just half a pace behind me. Gerry, of course, immediately turned and headed for the bar. We proceeded from the dance floor, and along various corridors. If it was necessary to make a turn, the man would just lean forwards, and give directions with his arm, and then as we arrived at a door, he lent forwards and opened it, allowing me to go in first. In the room were about ten men all sat around either reading or watching the TV in the corner of the room. As soon as they saw me entering, the TV was switched off, and all men put down their books and magazines, and began to form an orderly line across the room. They stood there to attention, like soldiers on parade. I was ushered to walk along the line, and it felt so surreal, as if I was the queen inspecting the guard of honour. But from the ten men, I found three that I'd say were the right height for me.

I don't think I've mentioned it, but dancing is a long standing love of mine, and I'd originally started my dancing at around ten years old. Like lots of girls of this age, it was just somewhere for mom to send me on a Saturday morning to keep me amused. I guess at around fifteen, I'd moved into the ballroom training, and by seventeen, there was talk of me making it my profession. But again, like lots of seventeen year old girls, I discovered boys. Well dating boys and regular training sessions don't mix, and as one had to go, the dancing took the back seat. I still went to regular dances on Saturday nights, but all thoughts of becoming a pro just disintegrated. (Funny how that word, 'pro' can mean different things depending on what context it is used) But back to the present, and the reason for me mentioning my past experience. I was always told, 'to enter a dance competition, it is most important to get the correct match of heights between the partners. The girl should turn her head slightly to her left and lean it forwards. That is to say, towards her right ear, this should then rest against the shoulder of her partner.' If you had been partnering someone for a few years, especially in your teens, it was often the case one of the partners would grow out of this symmetry. In these cases, special shoes would have to be made to rectify the height.

But I'm drifting again. Back to my choice of three. One looked too smug, I'm sure he thought he was god's gift to women, but not the man for me. Then there was a man around forty to fifty, very distinguished, and handsome; but somehow, not my type. And the man I opted for, I'd guess aged in his late twenties, big broad shoulders, and in some ways, he looked very like my brother. I turned and looked at the man who'd escorted me to the room,