Raising the Flag

A short tale of imperfect characters. She strayed (wouldn't you?). His revenge is quick and simple but equally quickly, he regrets it. Her lover saves the day.

There is no sex, English spelling.

FLYING THE FLAG

Part One; Raising the flag

Deborah

She was almost quivering with excitement. They had just passed the hedge marking the start of the estate and soon she would be with the man she was desperate for. Ahead the long low stable block with its charming bell tower and steeply pitched roof of Sussex tile had come into sight.

"Wow, is that the house?" her husband asked.

She just cracked up. What an idiot the man was.

"That's the stable block. Slow down, the drive is ahead on the left."

They swung into the driveway in his little electric sports car. Typical of him. Wants a sports car but isn't man enough for a real one so he buys this silly little battery-operated runabout. She admitted that it accelerated really fast but it sounded just like a stupid milk float. He thinks he wants to be a man but he's just another of those pencil dicks who whine and moan about the climate.

Don't they realise that technology has always solved these kinds of problems? Anyway, her Dad told her that fifty years ago all the climate scientists were convinced there was going to be new ice age. As he said, 'Thank God for global warming. If the glaciers started marching south again the 'civilised' world would be in much more trouble.' He wasn't the kind of guy to be worried about anywhere else.

She looked over at her husband. Bill was driving her towards the start of her new life and he didn't have a clue. He was quiet as he always was when driving. Typical of him, not able to do two things at once. All her friends and her family had told her she was making a huge mistake in marrying him and she had begun to realise quite soon that they had been right. Now she couldn't even remember why she had. He wasn't from her class, he wasn't particularly handsome. He was different, she supposed. She knew he was a clever in a sort of unreal way. He couldn't do anything useful like fix things that went wrong and he was useless about money and how important it was but she did allow he was brainy.

He was like most of the people he worked with at the university, just disconnected from the real world. She'd been to one or two faculty parties until she refused to go any more. What a bunch of twats. Always arguing about things that were just not relevant. The science guys weren't too bad. She didn't understand a word they said but at least the stuff they were doing was, or might become, practical. The worst were the Arts Faculties. She got trapped once by this cliché professor, all sandals and tufty hair and beard. God, she hated to think what was living in that beard. He yammered at her for what seemed like hours about moral philosophy of all pointless things. She bet that the worst moral problem he'd ever faced was whether or not to make a move on his secretary.

She looked at her husband again, trying to remember why she'd ever thought she loved him and could have his children and grow old with him. The only thing that she could think of was that he had had kind eyes. Eyes that said he understood her, that at bottom she was alright, that she could trust him and that he would care for her.

That sure was different from the other boys she had run around with who just wanted the same thing, who just wanted to possess her. But Freddy now. Well Freddy was as different as could be both from Bill and from all the others who had sniffed around her. His family was connected to the highest in the land and were fabulously wealthy. Freddy was just as brainy as Bill. He'd been to Cambridge and gained a first and was now working in the City and making his own obscenely large bonuses. On top of that he had a physique. Bill looked better when dressed than naked but she bet Freddy would look really hot naked.

And Freddy was a real gentleman. He must have known he could have had her almost from the first, but he wooed her, made her feel wanted and needed, made her feel beautiful and important. He was irresistible. Today she had promised she would give herself to him. She was already wet at the prospect.

They were directed into a large field to park and then walked up through the formal gardens towards the house. She'd had a private tour before, so she knew what to expect but Bill looked staggered. Part of the house was Elizabethan but then every age had added examples of its best until now, with its multiple courtyards and apparently endless wings it seemed more like a fantasy city than a house.

She had told Bill that he needed to be better dressed and he had gone out and bought this black 'Nehru' style suit which, she had to admit, had made him look much sexier and sharper than usual. The event was going to be held in the garden and there were marquees everywhere on the endless lawn. Thank heavens, the weather was good. Summer in Britain was always so chancy but it was going to be a perfect summer's afternoon.

Then they both had a shock. One which left her giggling silently but left him feeling humiliated. The event was being professionally catered by the biggest and best London caterers and every single one of the army of waiters, and waitresses, was wearing a black suit with a 'Nehru' style jacket. Bill was in fancy dress as a waiter! As they walked toward the crowd, be slipped off his jacket and slung it casually over his shoulder.

She on the other hand knew there would not be any woman wearing anything like her dress. She had created the material and designed the dress and she knew it was stunning. Today she fully expected her profile as a designer to be raised in the highest circles. The motif of the design was Celtic but used in an almost Bridget Riley 'optical illusion' style. The patterns subtly enhanced every sexual zone of the body. In black on white the design was blatantly erotic, using bold designs to highlight and optical illusions to flatter and already heads were turning to study her.

The catering was like nothing she had ever seen. Champagne had been offered while they were still walking up from the car park. There was a marquee twenty yards by twenty full of nothing but seafood. There was a portable kitchen like something from the future where little rounds of fillet steak were being cooked and another for fish and chips. Fish and chips? What chippy did you ever go to that served goujons of sole and turbot wrapped a in a cone of pink paper from the Financial Times?

They wandered together a little way past the crowd towards one of the three lakes just to see part of the larger wild garden. They both nearly had a heart attack when, from behind a bush in what appeared to be the middle of a bluebell wood, a waiter stepped out with a tray of champagne. They were so startled they went back to the crowd for safety.

Bill was a shy man who found it difficult to mingle though if he did find someone he could talk to he would get deeply involved in a discussion. She was outgoing, more confident and she would wander around talking to anyone. Fairly soon Bill found a group that was holding his interest so she told him she was going to circulate. Freddy had told her to meet him by the flagpole which, at thirty feet high, no-one could miss.

Bill

He had known ever since the invitation came that today was going to be difficult. Probably the greatest challenge he had ever faced. He wasn't sure exactly when he had begun to fear that Deborah had an interest outside the marriage. He couldn't be sure whether she had already been unfaithful or was yet to surrender. He did know who to. It was the younger son of the family who were holding this party. He doubted that anything would happen today since there were so many guests. So many guests -- yes, so many that perhaps she could slip away into the house or the gardens. Mind you, in that dress she would stand out.

His mood hadn't been improved by making a fool of himself over the stables and then, when he found he'd bought that expensive suit so that he could look like a waiter, his bitterness overflowed. He slung his jacket over his shoulder and seethed.

The marriage had been good to begin with though her people had been dead set against it. He thought they had kept working on her, belittling him as not a fit mate for her. That kind of insidious pressure was difficult for him to counter without making her angry. These silly arguments always started after she had been to her mother's.

"Don't you think you're a bit underappreciated, Bill?" she would say. "Surely you ought to be a professor by now rather than a mere lecturer."

That word 'mere' was a real giveaway.

"I really can't put up with your stupid Faculty parties any more darling. They are such stuffy silly people, always arguing about pointless things. It's so funny the way they get their backs up with each other over trifles. It's all so small minded and childish."

And of course, because he was part of the Faculty then by implication he was small-minded and childish too. The sad part is he agreed with her about those parties. Unfortunately, they are an obligation especially if one wants to be offered a professor's position. She won't see that or the inconsistency of her criticisms.

The truth is she's right. He is a small fish in a small pond. In terms of his work he is as fulfilled as he needed to be. He liked the students and most of his other work was done in his head. He knew also that she was truly talented as a designer. So far it's been baby steps which is why he knows how important this party is for her. It would do her immense good if some of those present picked up on her talent. The other reason she wants to go to the party is the kicker.

"Darling, I met the most interesting man the other week in the village."

"Do you remember I mentioned someone I met in the village. You'd like him. He's very bright. He got a first at Cambridge and he was a rugger blue."

"I saw Freddy the other day and he came down to my workshop and I showed him some of designs and, Oh Bill, he thought they were wonderful. He has some ideas to help me get known."

"Freddy was telling me about the work he's doing in the City. He's helping some African country to restructure its debts -- and he does charity work too."

"Freddy took me to see his home last week. Bill, you'd never believe it until you see it. It's almost a world of its own there are so many wings and buildings."

(He took her to his place?)

"Freddy is so sweet. He was helping me choose some fabric the other day up in town."

(Up in Town? What the devil?)

"I met his sisters a few days ago. Such pretty girls and they were so kind to me. I think they understand the position I'm in."

(The position she's in?)

"Freddy took me over to Goodwood the day before yesterday and we met the Duke who showed us some of the cars he has collected. He invited us to his next race day. Wouldn't that be nice."

(I'm pretty sure that 'us' was Freddy and her, not her and me.)

Nothing between them had changed other than this intrusion of Freddy into their lives. She was still loving and affectionate when they were together, their amorous life was, as far as he knew, good for both of them. Though to be honest he had not had much experience of women and she had been a virgin when he first met her. He was tied down by his teaching hours but of course she was free most of the time. She worked hard at her designing but recently she had started working late in her studio. With all the time she spent with Freddy she had to extend her work into the evening. Inevitably that reduced their time together.

"You're spending quite a lot of time with Freddy these days, aren't you?" he asked one day.

"Yes, I suppose I am," she replied. "It's going to pay off really well in the future, though. You know how difficult it is to break into the fashion world. To have someone like Freddy easing my path, making introductions, possibly even taking a financial interest in the business, would make such a difference."

She was right of course. He did know how useful Freddy could be if he wanted to be. He just wondered what else Freddy might want -- and what she might give.

Did he trust her? Not wholly, no, he admitted to himself. She was young, she was being constantly fed negative thoughts about her husband and now there was a wealthy, handsome, clever man seducing her. He might have qualms about his wife's faithfulness but he had no doubts whatever about a man who spent so much time with another man's wife. He's a bloke. He'll nail her if he can. The real question was 'Is he a predator who hits and runs or does he have real feelings for her?' There were pluses and minuses on both sides. If he was a predator it would at least be over fairly quickly. He'd hurt her and damage our marriage but we might recover. If he had real feelings for her, then perhaps he wouldn't end up hurting her -- he'd just destroy me instead.

Deborah had gone off to circulate as she always did. He wandered round sipping his drink but then bumped into John, a friend from the town's other university and they started catching up. They had spent some time talking shop and then about John's new kid when he realised it was quite some time since he had seen Deborah. He said goodbye to John and started to cruise the crowd and the marquees looking for her. With that distinctive dress he had thought he would find her quickly but he hadn't.

There was a bloke he knew slightly standing on his own near the flagpole and he asked if he had seen the girl in the black and white Celtic/pop art dress. His reply was a stunning blow. Bill asked if he was sure. He was positive; Deborah and a man had gone through the archway into the main court.

Bill went straight toward the entrance but this was roped off and two obvious security people told him very politely that only family were allowed beyond this point. He smiled and walked away. He found a quiet spot away from the crowd and tried to think what to do. It might still be innocent. He may just be showing her the house. It was worth a look after all. But he seemed to remember her telling him that she had already had a tour of the house with Freddy.

What to do, what to do?

If he just waited he would learn nothing. So she went in with Freddy, they were there perhaps for ages and she comes out with Freddy. So what? It's a big house. If he challenges her she can just lie. Obviously he can't search the house. For a start he wouldn't get in and even if he did he could never find them.

What to do? He was past the point of ignoring clues. He needed to know. It was past three now and the sun was behind the clouds and a sharp wind had sprung up. He started to put his jacket on and then grimaced as he remembered why he had taken it off. Damned waiters. Waiters? He smiled. Perhaps fate's humiliation could be turned to good effect.

He did up his jacket, went to the drink's marquee, grabbed an unopened bottle of champagne and two glasses, put a folded towel over his arm and headed towards the kitchens. All the catering was being done by professionals and there was only a young maid in the huge kitchen.

"Special for young Master Freddy. Can you tell me where his room is?"

"Up the back stairs, turn left on the first floor and he's in the suite second door on the left." She giggled and said, "He'll probably be needing that about now."

His face a mask, Bill followed her instructions and quietly opened the second door on the left. It was a living room rather than a bedroom but he remembered the girl had used the word 'suite' so he started across the room towards the door in the side wall. As he crossed the room he saw something that stopped him in his tracks.

On a sofa by that door lay his wife's dress, her bra and her panties. Her shoes were on the floor. Despair fought with rage. He started toward the door to confront them and then thought better of it. Here I'm in enemy territory he realised. If I do anything here everyone will be against me. I need to get them on my own ground. He couldn't bear just walking away like a wimp and then he had an idea that made him smile. He remembered when they were young, he and his sisters had been skinny dipping in a local pond when some local boys had pinched their clothes and left them stranded. She wouldn't be stranded here; there must be enough clothes in the mansion to clothe an army. Still, it would make it rather difficult for her.

How would she explain to her husband that she was no longer wearing the dress or underwear she had arrived in?

He bundled up the clothes but left the shoes. He returned the way he came, saw no-one in the kitchen and made his way back to the garden party. As he came round the corner the first thing that he saw was the flagpole. A wicked idea came to him. He knew it was mean but his emotions were running high. Returning to the still empty kitchen he grabbed a sharp knife which he concealed in the bundle of clothes.

'Invisible' in his waiter's outfit he walked straight up to the flagpole. Carefully holding the rope he cut it and then tied two large bulky knots two feet apart. That would stop the rope running through the block at the top. He cut the straps of the dress and then tied them firmly to the rope between the two knots. The panties he slipped over the bra strap and then clipped the bra through the tied-off dress straps. Then he simply released his grip on that rope and pulled the uncut rope. His black and white flag with the purple streamer rose to the top of the flagpole and stuck there. There was a perfect breeze to stetch it out, flapping gently but clearly identifiable as the dress his wife had been wearing.

He took his jacket off and mingled with the crowd, accepted a glass of champagne and went off to stock up on seafood and steak. He had thought of just driving home but he wanted to be here to see what happened. The answer both shocked and impressed him.

Part Two

Lowering the flag

Deborah

Freddy found her at the flagpole as arranged and she went with him into the house. It was such a thrill to have security guards nod respectfully to her as she passed and then to walk through these glittering rooms on the arm of this perfect man. She expected to be taken to his bedroom but it was a whole suite, exquisitely decorated and furnished.

He led her toward the other door but then stopped.

"Are you sure?" he asked

She just nodded, too full of emotion to speak. He unzipped her dress and delicately removed that and her underwear until she was standing naked before him. He laid her clothes neatly on the arm of the sofa and admired her beauty for a moment before picking her up in his arms. She kicked off her shoes and they headed to the bedroom.

He was both gentle yet assertively masculine and she knew she had found her perfect man. She knew they couldn't be too long but it was an hour before he let her up. She was sated. Thoroughly and perfectly made love to. They held each other, their naked bodies soft against them as they left the room. Her shoes were still on the floor where she had left them but all her clothes were gone.

She panicked.

"My clothes, where are my clothes? Oh my God. Who's taken my clothes? What am I going to do? He's going to know. Oh God. Please Freddy, find my clothes. I must have my clothes," she sobbed.

Freddy's first thought was that it was his sister making game with him. It was just the sort of thing she might do, the little minx. He'd tan her backside for it, this time. He swiftly pulled on his clothes, told her to stay in the bedroom while he got her clothes back. He rushed down the corridor to his sister's room and burst in.

"What have you done with them. We must have them back. Quickly, Isobel, quickly."