More than a Beach Hut

Outside the bank Helen pulled me into a fierce hug.

"Are you buying me, Malcolm?" she asked.

"No, Helen, I am helping my friends' daughter, as they would do if they were here. I want to get you sorted out and on your own two feet. Then..."

"Then has possibilities, Malcolm."

"Except I'm old and staid."

"Not that old. Not staid, but lonely. Tonight? You won't be."

"Is that a threat?"

"No. It's a promise."

+++

We went to the supermarket's café for a basic cooked meal.

Helen seemed delighted with it. I asked why.

"It is the first meal out I have had for a year. I know it is cheap but it is good. I didn't have to do any preparation and I have no washing up to do. It feels like luxury."

I laughed.

"Except that it is Saturday and all the restaurants will be overcrowded this evening, we could eat out tonight too. But how about another takeaway?"

"That would be great. But can you afford it after you've paid out so much for me?"

"Afford it? My bank balance doesn't even notice what I have paid out. Which reminds me. You need some cash in your purse, just in case."

I gave Helen two hundred pounds.

"Two hundred pounds? I have not had that much money on me for years, if ever, Malcolm. You're sure?"

"Of course."

"In that case, we are going out for lunch tomorrow and I'll pay."

"If you want to..."

"I do."

+++

After we had shopped, returned home and put everything away we were sitting on the settee looking out at the sea through the rain which had returned. Helen was sitting on my lap and I was well aware that I had an armful of woman.

"Malcolm? I'd like to start cleaning your house this afternoon and carry on tomorrow. OK?"

"Ys, Helen. Could you do the living room first and move all the furniture to one side to leave a space. Please? There's not much. I think there are two small two-seat settees, two armchairs and a couple of coffee tables."

"If that's what you want? Yes."

"While you are doing that I have to have a short talk with one of my neighbours and then do some work on line. See you."

+++

Three hours later Helen was back. She had a shower and changed.

"I've done the main floor. I can do the top floor tomorrow. But you forgot two standard lamps in the living room. I've unplugged and moved them."

She obviously wanted some explanation of why I wanted the furniture moved. I kept her guessing.

That evening we had an Indian takeaway and shared a half-bottle of red wine before Helen insisted she was coming to bed with me. She was very gentle, making allowances for my age, but she teased me for a long time with her naked body before she rode me slowly and carefully. I enjoyed every minute of it and Helen made sure I lasted a long time before she brought me to a satisfied conclusion. I went to sleep with Helen's body resting on mine.

In the early hours she claimed my erection again but Although I enjoyed that coupling, I was barely awake, unsure whether actually Helen was making love to me, or whether I was dreaming.

In the morning I was sure Helen was no dream. She made sure I was fully awake and an active participant but she left me lying in bed while she made breakfast.

If this was the reward Helen was going to give me for taking her in as a house guest, it was well worth it - and the money I had spent to sort her finances out. She and I were much happier and content with each other. She wasn't the companion my wife had been. You cannot replace many decades of a shared life. I thought Helen showed signs of being a very acceptable partner. We thought alike and seemed to like the same things, although she hadn't been able to afford some of the things she had wanted to do. But with me? By comparison, money was no barrier.

After breakfast, Helen went back to house cleaning until about half past twelve when she returned so we could go to a local public house that did good English food. We were there for about two hours before we sat down with our after meal coffee. I looked at my watch. It was about ten minutes to three. The bailiff's men should arrive soon and my neighbour had my spare keys. By the time we got back to the house, most of Helen's things should have been delivered. I ordered a second cup of coffee for us and wondered what Helen's reaction would be.

As I drove my car into the under-house garage Helen squealed.

"That's George's car! How?"

"That's not George's car," I retorted. "That's your car. It was registered and insured in your name with George as a named driver. Remember? In the bank yesterday I insisted that the direct debit for the car tax should continue? That's why. That's Helen's car."

I had to stop suddenly and turn the engine off as Helen threw herself at me. It was five minutes before I was able to park properly. I took her upstairs in the lift. There, stacked in the space she had cleared in the living room, were all the possession the bailiffs had taken away on Friday.

I was nearly raped on the living room carpet as Helen expressed her thanks. She went through some of the items.

"My laptop! My cat poufe! My books! Malcolm, you're amazing. How did you do that?"

"Money works," I said. "and, of course, knowing the right people. The bailiff's owner owed me a favour and this is part repayment."

Helen's face fell.

"What's the matter?" I asked.

"You've got back everything I owned and that's fantastic, but I have nowhere to put them. I'm still homeless, and whatever I get from the council or the homeless charity Is unlikely to be large enough for all this, Malcolm."

"So what? All of it takes up about a quarter of an unused room in an empty house. Even if my whole family comes to visit they would still have more than enough room. Your stuff could stay for weeks or months and I wouldn't notice."

"Weeks? Months? What will I do?"

"Perhaps the council can help tomorrow, or if not, perhaps you could find somewhere to rent. You have a job, a car, a credit bank balance, and a clear credit rating..."

"A clear credit rating? After the bailiffs took everything? How?"

"All the threatening letters and court orders were against George, not you. Your name doesn't appear anywhere. You are in the clear, but George? He's stuffed!"

"So he should be. He left me in the lurch and went off to his parents which I couldn't do. He left me literally on the street. I used to love him, but not now. He destroyed any love I had. All I have is an ancient Malcolm."

"Who will be here for you as long as you need him, Helen. You are my house guest and you will be for however long it takes to sort you out. Weeks, months? I don't care. I'm enjoying having Helen with me."

"And in your bed?"

I didn't know I could still blush. Helen noticed, jumped on me and kissed me.

"I'm enjoying that too," she said. "It is great that someone wants me."

+++

While Helen cleaned the upper floor of the house I went on line to catch up with work emails. That evening we had a microwaved instant meal, we had bought in the supermarket, before going to bed early. As on Saturday night Helen rode me. I was happy to have her naked breasts pressed against my back as I went to sleep. In the night, this time I was sure it was a real Helen, not a dream one, but we didn't have time on Monday morning for a third session. Helen drove off in her car shortly after breakfast. At her old maisonette she had been able to walk to work, but my house and beach hut were further away and there was no bus route close by.

That morning I scanned and printed copies of all the paperwork George had left for Helen. I looked at her large suitcase. If she was staying with me, her belongings should have a better place. I got my four wheeled gardening trolley and some carrier bags before I moved some of my clothes from the beach hut to the main house. I had cleared two thirds of the wardrobe and three-quarters of the chest of drawers. Finally, I brought my wife's small antique dressing table. I was glad of the ramp. It was easy to pull the trolley up it.

I ate a light lunch before driving to the Council offices to meet Andrew. He had a large file of papers in front of him. He looked sheepish and apologetic.

"Malcolm? The Council has made a right pig's ear of this," He started. "Yes, they suspected that Jesus Morales had been committing a fraud, but they stopped the housing benefits payments before they had the proof. They have it now, and he will be prosecuted, but they jumped the gun and your Helen and George suffered unnecessarily because we acted when we shouldn't have."

"How could Helen and George be evicted for a debt that they didn't owe?"

"Jesus lied to the court. That will be added to the prosecution's case. But they really need their own lawyers which they can't afford, I assume?"

"They can't. I can. I am seeing my solicitors tomorrow."

"Then they can claim the debt back, get their names cleared and the lies will be added to the case against Jesus."

"I will make sure that is followed up."

"Then all I can do now, Malcolm, is apologise on behalf of the Council and hope between us we can sort this out and get that shit Jesus Morales in jail."

"What about rehousing Helen?"

"I wish we could help, Malcolm. We can't. As a single adult woman there are so many people with much higher priorities and greater needs on our lists. She IS on the list but when she would get somewhere? A few years? A decade? Probably if I am honest, never, because there will be always people coming on the list with higher priority."

"What if she was actually sleeping on the street?"

"That might change things because the government provides money for rough sleepers, but even so, the existing rough sleepers would have greater priority because of addiction and health problems. Again, Helen would be at the end of the list for help."

"OK, It looks as if she will have to stay as my house guest until she could find someone private to rent. If that is possible."

"If I wasn't happily married. Malcolm, I could be jealous of you with Helen. As it is I am jealous of your house and beach hut."

"I'm not surprised. I love it."

"And Helen?"

"Maybe. It's too soon to tell."

"Could we have a more general discussion, Malcolm?"

"About what?"

"Housing, generally. We are worried about Mr Morales' tenants. We have established that he owns ten properties in the town and has been claiming for several families that don't exist. Helen and George's place was the worst. He was claiming for them and three other families with children in a one-bedroom maisonette. He used four names as the landlord. IF he is convicted? What happens to the real families? We don't have council houses."

"I can understand that, but why ask me?"

"You have one of the largest building firms locally. You could build houses."

"Yes, we could, and do. But we are not property developers. We don't own land."

"And neither does the council but..."

"But?"

"Our planning committee turned down a major planning application for three hundred houses, for the third time, because the developer wanted to build too many, too close together, and wouldn't comply with the need for Section 106 agreements nor enough so-called affordable housing. For once the planning inspector agreed with us and the developer has gone into liquidation. Our property people are negotiating with the creditors and are close to agreeing to buy the land. If we do, we want to work with a housing association to build low-rent social housing properties, a mix of one, two and three bedrooms. If we do, could you build them?"

"We probably could, Andrew, but as you know, we would have to go through the formal tendering processes with others."

"Of course, but our architects are considering modular buildings from old shipping containers. The company that converts the containers can supply and erect but they need serviced bases on which to put them. Could your company do that?"

"I know we can. We recently refitted a holiday mobile home park with compete new bases. The principles are the same."

"Then your company will be one of those invited to tender. If we get the site, and build the units, we could house at least a quarter of our housing list. We'd like more, but this is a once-a-lifetime opportunity."

"When we get the invitation, I'll do our best price, even if we might make a loss. We would, or rather I would, write it off as an investment in our community."

"Thank you, Malcolm. I'm sorry I can't offer any help for Helen but you are doing what we can't. I am sure she appreciates that."

+++

When Helen arrived home she hugged me fiercely.

"Malcom? Today was great. All my colleagues sympathised with me and my supervisor was supportive too. Now I have them, as well as you, on my side. That feels great. How did you get on at the Council?"

"Not well. They can't really help you find somewhere to live. There are too many people already on their housing list. But they might sort out your landlord. And my solicitor might be able to help too. Until then, you're staying with me. I want you here."

"You want me, Malcolm? I want you. I need you."

"Then you have me, and whatever I can do to help you, Helen - for as long as it takes. By the way, you now have storage space in the bedroom, in the wardrobe, the chest of drawers and there is a dressing table."

"A dressing table? I've always wanted one but cou;d never afford to buy one, nor did we have the space."

"You have now, but it's quite small."

During the next half an hour Helen put her clothes away and I took her suitcase to join her other things in the living room of the large house.

"Malcom? You are doing a lot for someone who is only your friends' daughter," Helen said.

"I don't think of you as my friends' daughter but as the damsel-in-distress. I have always fancied myself as the hero saving the damsel from the wiles of the evil villain. In this case he is Jesus Morales."

"On Friday night, I was in distress, Malcolm, but now? I feel protected, safe and loved."

"You are."

"But if I am the damsel-in-distress, this evening I will dress as one while I show you that this damsel can cook..."

Helen changed into a blue pastel bridesmaid's dress she had worn as the sole Matron of Honour shepherding four pre-school bridesmaids at a cousin's wedding two years ago. She added a fancy waist apron while she cooked. We sat down to a properly laid table with wine and candles burning in candlesticks - a proper romantic dinner for two. I don't know what I ate except that it was delicious and I hadn't made it for myself. I was too busy looking at the attractive woman sitting opposite me.

That night in bed I wasn't sure whether I was the hero protecting the damsel-in-distress or whether Helen was my guardian angel looking after me. She was slow, gentle and loving. I went to sleep with her arms wrapped around me.

On Tuesday morning Helen went off to work looking happier than she had been since Friday evening. I went to my solicitor's office carrying all the original papers and my copies. It took a couple of hours before the solicitor understood what I wanted.

First - compensation for Helen from Jesus Morales and my solicitors' help with the Council's case against him.

Second - a formal agreement of separation between Helen and George with the eventual aim of a divorce as soon as possible. That is what Helen wanted. She felt betrayed by George and wanted to cut all ties with him. Because there were no children and assets to divide, the solicitor felt that a divorce should be simple, if long-winded.

Third - An apology from the Council at least but perhaps compensation for the distress caused to Helen.

"Mr Johnson? You are asking us to represent Helen Reynolds, and you will pay our fees?"

"Yes."

"We might have to associate George Reynolds in any claims. Would that be a problem?"

"No. If you have to? So be it. But my interest is Helen."

"OK. But we might have to deal with the Council's lawyers and the Crown Prosecution Service in confidence, not telling you or Helen Reynolds what we are doing. OK?"

"Yes, just get that shit Jesus Morales convicted."

"I am fairly sure he will be, but whether Helen will get anything? That is more problematic. I understand what you want us to achieve, but even if you are covering our costs, we have to get instructions from Mrs Reynolds. She will be our client, not you. Can she come to see us, soon?"

I rang Helen at her work and arranged for her to see the solicitors on Friday.

"OK. Leave it with us. We will tell Mrs Reynolds when there is any progress. That could take several weeks or months."

+++

For the rest of the week it seemed like bliss for me. I was being fed proper meals and spent each night with an attractive woman pressed up against me. Helen became happier as the days went by but she arranged to meet George on Saturday. She would discuss the pending divorce with him, and take his things that had been returned by the bailiffs. I gave her money to pay two-thirds of the cost of their car which had been part financed by Helen.

When she returned she was all over me.

"I had loved him, Malcolm, but not now. He betrayed me. He seems to be sorting himself out. He will be renting an old residential mobile home on a retirement site. He is just old enough to be eligible and he has a part-time job as the resident handyman. He is negotiating to buy the home which needs work. The money you gave me for the car, together with some from his parents will be enough for the deposit but his parents have had to guarantee the rest of the loan because his credit rating stinks. But he and his mates can probably make it better than it is now. As for the divorce? Because we have no financial matters to settle, some of that will be easy but..."

Helen pulled back and looked me in the face.

"How would you feel about being named as co-respondent?"

"Would that help?"

"It could cut the time by a few months."

"Then why not. I am, or rather you are, fucking me every night, Helen."

"And enjoying it. You're sure?"

"Why not? I have already told my children that you're with me. They have added two and two and made at least six..."

+++

Three months later, my extended family had visited. The grandchildren had decided to call Helen Granny Mark Two, or Granny Two (or too) for short. They loved her because she could do things with her that my wife had been too ill to do, and I was really too old. She took them paddling and swimming on the beach and played with them for hours. I enjoyed watching them.

The divorce had nearly reached the decree nisi stage because George was cooperating. After that, it might be final a month later. My solicitors' bills were growing but I could afford them. Having Helen with me was well worth the money I was paying. I was eating far better with Helen's cooking and fitter because of our bedroom activities. Now I could take a much more active role than I had been able to do when Helen first joined me in my bed.

The Council's case against Jesus Morales had originally been set for a month's time but would now been delayed because Police had found links to a drugs gang. It seemed, but hadn't been proved yet, that Jesus had financed and was using his property portfolio to launder drugs money. The Police and Crown prosecution Service were excited.

+++

Five weeks later, Helen's divorce was final. We celebrated with a restaurant meal followed by more strenuous activities in bed than I had ever managed for any years, In the morning I proposed to Helen and she accepted. We planned the wedding for the next school holidays so all my family could come.

+++

When, twelve months after the original date, Jesus Morales' case came to trial, he was found guilty of laundering drug money, fraud of housing benefits, and lying to the court about the debt owed by Helen and George. He was sentenced to three years' jail and recommended for deportation afterwards. The court had a problem. Jesus Morales wasn't this real name. He was sentenced in the name in which he had previously convicted of drug offences and deported back to what he claimed was his native country, Croatia. He claimed, variously, to be Maltese, Romanian, and Serbian.