My Magazine Ch. 13

Charles was togged out in white polo shirt, white shorts and white boat shoes and looked a bit like a naval commander, but without epaulettes indicating rank and without a telescope tucked under his arm. Jane, or whatever he name was, looked dressed for the wrong venue, Jenni thought. She was dressed in khaki shirt and shorts and leather sandals. Swap the sandals for heavy socks and boots and she'd look ready to tramp the length of the island.

"Hi Jenni," said Charles, and did the unthinkable for Charles. He leant forward and brushed his lips against Jenni's cheek. Rather than feeling revolted, Jenni almost reached up and touched that cheek as if no quite believing she'd received it.

Charles turned and said to Jan - yes, not Jane and said expansively he had pleasure introducing her to Jenni Giles.

"Hi," said Jan. "I bet you've had a pig of a week?"

Jennie thought hello? Was there a sensitive, chummy and bright soul hidden beneath khaki and hair in need of a visit to the hairdresser's; was she about to be surprised?

"This alcohol helps to remove the pain," smiled Jenni.

"That drink looks interesting, what is it?" she asked, and it was Charles turn to look bored.

"The Lonely Woman's Orgasm," she whispered, hoping that Charles wouldn't hear. But he turned back to them, looking very interested.

"I say, what a wonderful name for a drink - but you won't be in need of one of those, will you dear?" he said to Jan, with a distinct leer.

"Go play with your toys darling; I've found someone interesting to talk to."

"Well, all right but don't get pissed. We will be sailing against wind and tide late this afternoon - this breeze is expected to die around 3:00 and after the change there will be a freshening westerly."

"Goodness - you did come by ship?" commented Jenni, purposely choosing the word ship to elicit a keen correction.

The admiral pounced.

"We sailed here in our yacht Jenni, which can loosely be referred to as a sailboat or boat but never a ship. You sail from Fort Lauderdale, Florida to the Bahamas with three thousand other hell-raisers in a ship, or a ship takes butter, tallow or wood chips out of New Zealand and will do so powered by a giant twelve cylinder diesel-electric engine, I believe."

"I drink corrected," said Jenni, raising her glass, and Charles departed, a happy man.

"Men - they know all useless information like that but have no idea of the day of their street's regular refuse collection - or in Charles' case not knowing the refuse is collected."

Jennie said, "Fortunately I'm spared those downloads of useless information in conversation at home because I live by myself mostly, but then again I do confess to sometimes being unsure about refuse collection day."

"But you must be so incredibly busy doing what you do. It's a wonder you know what day it is."

"Thank you for showing kindness Jan but I do have a PA to remind me what day it is."

Jenni noticed Jan's glass was empty and waved and caught Maria's eye.

"Two of the sensual cocktails, please Maria."

"Oh."

"Is there a problem?"

"Only Mrs Brooks knows exactly how to make them. But look - there she is waving at me. I'll ask her to do two more for you. By the way, my father is on the other side of the house doing the barbecue. The naughty man wants to know whether you have your swimsuit on, or off. I ordered him to keep away from you."

The two women watched Maria walk away with a rhythmic sway of her hips.

"She's supposed to be a wiz at rock 'n' roll," said Jenni, admiring the hip sway.

"Yes, and I bet that's not all," Jan murmured.

Both women giggled.

"What do you do, Jan," asked Jenni, wondering if she needed to work as Charles was on a pretty good salary. But of course the yacht/boat/sailboat would be expensive to upkeep.

"I work in my father's business, but he's virtually retired now. He's currently trying to rediscover his youth over in the Caribbean somewhere."

"How interesting and what sort of business is it?"

"We specialise in the productive of upmarket containers for jewellers, firms wanting to repackage perfume, golf accessory presentation kits, packaging for imported fruit-based liquors that the Japanese tourists really go for, expensive looking cases for women's glasses and all that sort of thing."

"Do you have a title, being daddy's girl?"

Jenni's attention was diverted momentarily by Old Mr Hopper waving at her and thought Jan had said MD.

"I beg your pardon - I was waving back at Old Mr Hopper."

"I said MD meaning managing director. I run the company and have done so for years. Dad of course thinks he runs the company but really he's rarely there what with excessive travel, veteran's tennis, going to the funerals of old friends and, of course (she giggled) sailing his ship."

"You sound to be a busy girl. Are there many women like you running their parent's business?"

"I would think so - I am a member of the Thursday Luncheon Club with six other women like me."

"Really. That could make a story."

"I've often thought about that."

"Look may I have your business card. I'll assign someone to interview you and members of your group?"

"I'm sorry I have no card. I only have a twenty dollar note, my credit card, comb, lipstick and cell phone with me on this weekend sail. We'll make a stop before leaving the island so I can put on my boots and do a quick tramp to the highest point on that part of the island."

"Oh, how lovely," responded Jenni, colouring slightly.

The party sat around the table under huge umbrellas while the Hopper family served food and drinks.

There were two empty seats as Ron Wiggins and wife Sally had been delayed. Ron was at work waiting for delivery of some urgently required parts for the perfect binding system - the supplier had sent then by road courier instead of air courier and the truck had been held up by a horrendous accident on route.

Jenni and Jan were sitting together, with David beside Jenni engaged in non-stop conversation with Nick. Charles was on the other side of Jan chatting to Lydia who looked anything but bored and that left Sharon and her Ralph sitting right up against each other and carrying on like new lovers.

"Here's a lovely piece of salmon for you Miss Giles. None of that fatty steak for you. We've got to keep that body of yours in to shape."

"Thank you Mr Hopper. You are so thoughtful."

"My goodness, he's rather personal for hired help."

"Oh Jan, if only you knew."

"Knew what?"

Because four cocktails were working away well, Jenni told Jan about her first meeting with Old Mr Hopper.

Jan screamed with laughter and then everyone wanted to share in the joke.

"Just girls' talk," explained Jan, wiping the corner of one eye with her serviette.

"Legs wide open you say. Omigod!"

That sent both women into fits.

"Come on you two - your being anti-social. You must share the joke," David commanded.

"Sorry," Jenni choked,. "Believe me, it's unprintable girls' talk."

It Nick came to the rescue.

"Have you guys heard this one ..."

Jenni and Jan listened attentively to the filthy joke, but their upper bodies were jiggling as both of them battled to keep their giggling suppressed.

The jokes flowed almost as fast as the wine was being poured.

The small helicopter touched down only fifty metres from where they sat and Ron and Sally came running, hand in hand.

"We apologise for our lateness Lydia," Ron called and she dismissed the apology with a languid wave of her hand. After two of her special cocktails she'd gone inside and returned wearing a bikini that Sharon described as the size of only three men's handkerchiefs.

"We've been going for a while - you'd had better catch up. A pint of Scotch for you Ron? Lydia asked.

"No just a larger thanks."

"You Sally, you have the appearance of a bride whose been waiting on the church steps. I've just got the thing for you - a lovely cocktail called The Lonely Woman's Orgasm."

People not in the know around the table were silent for a moment, wondering if they had heard their hostess correctly. Then Jenni and Jan began to laugh, setting the whole group going.

"What are we laughing at?" Ralph asked Sharon, who replied that she hadn't a clue but wasn't it hilarious.

Sally looked slightly bemused.

"You mean you can mix me one Lydia. I thought the churches had joined together to get that concoction declared a banned substance. It's that legendary drink from Chicago isn't it?

"Yes but I know nothing about the ban officially," Lydia giggled. "I haven't had any correspondence from the Archbishop of Canterbury or the Pope for some little time now."

"Everyone burst into laughter again, including Ralph, who said he understood that little joke.

"I didn't," said Sharon, wiping her eyes. "Please explain."

"Darling, I think something a little obscure like that is rather beyond you at the moment don't you think?"

Sharon burst out into giggles again and told Ralph he was so funny when he became serious.

Sally quickly downed her cocktail and Lydia handed another, which she took two big sips and then wiped her mouth, quite unladylike, with the back of her hand. That action surprised Jenni, who'd always though that Sally had the demeanour of the only child of a Methodist minister."

"Actually she recently learned that Sally's father was a trade unionist and her mother prior to her marriage in her mid-thirties had worked for many years on international postings for some branch of the United Nations involved in relief work.

Ron and Sally went around the table greeting people and when she came to Jenni and they kissed, she whispered that she really thought the cocktail lived up to its name - "I feel I have been at it for one and a half times."

"Sally," frowned Ron, overhearing that comment.

"It's a wonder he knows what I'm talking about," whispered Sally into Jenni's ear farthest away from Ron.

As soon as the two late arrivals had finished their main course, David made a short speech, welcoming Jenni back into the fold and saying the management team would benefit from having the occasional social function.

Then Mrs Hopper appeared carrying with great care a sculptured desert vaguely shaped like a mini lattice-work mountain rising from a bed of mixed fresh fruits and a lashing of double cream. She took it straight to the nearest woman - Jan.

Looking at the creation in awe, Jan said clasping her brow, "I think I have just died and arrived in chocolate heaven."

"Three cheers for the staff," called Sharon, in alcohol-driven enthusiasm.

The entire company obliged, with great gusto, sending birds flying from trees.

Jenni and Nick arrived back at Nick's place at 5:30, breaking her rule that until now Jenni had observed in the interests of self-preservation.

It was her requirement that if she were to engage in sexual activity that it had to be on neutral ground - a hotel room suited her just fine. But when Nick was helping bundle the inebriated Sharon into the helicopter she'd vomited down his shirtfront and trousers.

Maria had dashed over with a towel and seemed to be more interested in cleaning around Nick's mid-section rather than towards the extremities of the obnoxious multi-coloured vomit. Jenni grabbed the towel from her and completed the job as best as she could.

But this was not good enough for the helicopter pilot, the same woman who'd flown them to the island in the morning.

"I'm sorry but I can't take that woman and that man with smells of vomit; it will ruin the flight for later passengers."

David hurried around the front of the helicopter to where she was seated, opening his wallet.

"Load the young lady in and you sir please sit on a towel," the pilot said to Nick.

"I've got to go home to shower and change, so why don't we settle in there?" Nick said to Jenni as they walked to the carpark.

She's also had consumed a lot of alcohol and the day had been hot - the idea of a shower right now appealed to her.

Nick was reassuring.

"I phoned the wife in Edinburgh this morning - so there's no chance of her walking in unexpectedly."

"Right let's go," Jenni sighed, wondering why men when having extramarital sex - or about to engage in it - never referred to their wife by name.

Instead, in her experience they always referred to her as 'the wife' as if they were committing adultery against an unspecified object rather that a flesh and blood spouse with a real name.

In the shower they fell over twice, laughing non-stop. Nick picked up Jenni, carried her to the bed and immediately got down to business.

"I'm sorry - I guess I got over-excited in the shower," he said, as Jenni grabbed a towel.

"It's all right, love. Just give me a shake when you're ready to go again."

She fell to sleep almost immediately.

A few seconds later - actually almost an hour had passed - she was shaken by Ralph calling someone had just driven up to the ground floor apartment.

He padded over to the window. The blinds were not drawn and it was still daylight outside.

"Christ it's my smother-in-law Amelia," he said. "She'd dragging a glass dish and what appears to be an apple pie out of her car. She's decided to give me a surprise and cook dinner for me and then to guzzle my best wine."

"Oh damn you wine," Jenni whined. "What are we going to do? I'm really too old to climb out of bedroom windows and jump fences any more - I'm supposed to be a lovely, charmer - an inspiration to younger women."

"Shut up, I'm trying to think."

Jenni started dressing quickly. She looked at Nick, who had a hand clenched against his forehead.

"If I were you I would cover that thing," she said drily. "If your mother-in-law spots it she may be get ideas,"

"Oh Jenni, we've done for. You should have made a dash for it when you had the opportunity."

"Don't be such a wet. Get dressed quickly, open the front door for her and lead her into the kitchen, closing the door behind her. Then I'll simply walk out and drive off - thank heavens I left my car parked on the street so that the neighbours right opposite couldn't read the number."

"Read your number plate, my God," said Nick. "Do you think the wife has got them spying on me?"

"Probably Nick and I guess with good reason. But with me it was over so quickly they would not have had time to adjust the telescopic lens of their camera to collect evidence."

"Jenni this isn't the time for joking. Let's do what you said - I'll phone you tonight."

He began hurrying out as the front door bell went.

"Wipe the lipstick off your mouth," Jenni teased and Nick began wiping his face furiously.

"Nick it's Amelia. Have you got someone with you?"

"Good heavens no It's just me talking to myself. How nice of you to call. I was hoping you'd visit lonely me."

Jenni started her car, and as she prepared to make a U-turn, she noticed the curtain in the house opposite Nick's driveway moving.

Hopefully an old couple with impaired vision and with no camera live there, she mused, ramming her foot down and doing the kind of sliding turn and violent acceleration down the road she imagined a boy racer would do. What a day!

She began to think that Nick's public profile appeared was much too prominent for her comfort; she'd better look around for a replacement. She fancied Janus but wouldn't want to hurt Nick, though with Nick one never knew which way he might jump- he might interpret it as a great honour for the family.

She threw her head back and yelled with laughter.

Returning her gaze to the road and looking right slightly moments later, she made eye contact with the driver of a police car. Looking in her rear vision mirror she saw the car do a sliding U-turn amid a puff of smoke from tyres, looking almost as good as the one she had executed minutes earlier.

Jenni pulled on the handbrake to slow back to the urban speed limit; hitting the foot brake pedal would have actioned her brake-light, alerting the pursuing occupants in the police car that a speeding vehicle was slowing.

Excessive speed was bound to mean an alcohol breath test.

Jenni began rehearsing a suitable 'Good evening officer' greeting but the words kept jumbling together. Oh no, she was decidedly under the influence and would almost certainly fail the breath test.

"Good evening madam," said the constable driver, the first of the two occupants to arrive at her driver's window, which Jenni had opened even before the constable had got out of his vehicle.

The police sergeant from the passenger's seat joined him.

"Abe this is Jenni Giles. You wouldn't be an inattentive driver who was also drunk, would you now Jenni?"

"Oh no certainly not. I had simply thrown my head back to ease my stiff neck. And drunk? That would certainly wouldn't be good for my public profile, would it?"

"No certainly not. But please drive carefully Jenni."

"But ..." protested the constable, who was cut off abruptly.

"Come on Abe. Let's go and catch some really drunk drivers."

Jenni thought she was leading a charmed life. She must drive very carefully indeed and drove home exactly at the legal speed limit, building up a line of frustrated drivers behind her.

She found a note from Rhonda on the fridge.

"I'm sleeping tonight at mum and dad's. Tried to ring but you had your phone switched off. Rodo."

More Coming