Shetland Pony Club

Kirsty was on the dance floor a lot of the time and by then it was after one o'clock in the morning. I lost sight of her at some stage and I assumed she was in the ladies room. I went for a piss, but there was still no sign of her when I got back. I asked some of the guizers if they had seen Kirsty, but they were very relaxed about the idea she had disappeared.

"Don't worry, man. She'll turn up. They always do."

"Nobody goes missing around here. They just get a bit lost from time to time."

"She probably just got separated from you and went to one of the other after parties."

I hung around a bit longer, then I went outside to see if I could get a phone signal and call her mobile, but there was no response. I left a voicemail, asking her to let me know where she was. I wasn't drunk, but we had been drinking steadily all evening and now that I was outside the fresh air combined with the drink was making me feel tired.

I tried looking for Kirsty in some of the other pubs. Everyone was very helpful, welcoming me in to come in and have a look around, even though I didn't have a ticket to their party, and a few of them insisted on buying me a beer or a whisky. Unfortunately I couldn't find Kirsty anywhere. I tried calling her mobile again a couple more times, all without success, and I even went back to The Shitty Whores. By then it was nearly three o'clock. The after parties were reputed to be all night events, but I could see that a few party goers were calling it a night.

Of course I had assumed Kirsty was still out and about. It hadn't occurred to me that she might simply have gone back to our room. Maybe she was already tucked up in bed and fast asleep. I cursed myself for an idiot and hurried back to the guesthouse where we were staying, but there was no sign of Kirsty. I left another voicemail for her to tell her I had tried to find her and was now back at the guesthouse.

I was fairly certain she would be enjoying herself and having a good time somewhere with a bunch of boozy Shetlanders. There were loads of people around and the street lights had been switched back on after the burning of the longship. Apart from a hangover, Kirsty was unlikely to come to any harm. No doubt she would be back soon enough and there wasn't much more I could do, so I went to bed. I tried to stay awake and wait up for her, but I must have fallen asleep almost immediately.

I woke briefly when I became aware Kirsty was getting into bed with me and a glance at the time on my mobile showed me it was nearly five o'clock. I would get her story later, but I needed some sleep in the meantime.

When I got up around ten o'clock, Kirsty was still out for the count. I was startled to find a Viking helmet, complete with long pointed horns, sitting on the dressing table in our room. I would have to ask her about where that had come from, but latest checkout was noon and I decided to leave her sleeping for a bit longer while I had a shower.

The clothes I had worn the previous evening stank of bonfire smoke. After a long, hot shower I put on a clean pair of trousers and a casual shirt, then I gently woke Kirsty. From her groans there was little doubt she was feeling the after effects of the night before.

"What happened to you last night?" I asked. "And how did you end up with a Viking helmet?"

"Sorry," she replied, hoarsely. "It's a long story. Just let me take a shower and I'll tell you about it."

While she was in the shower I did some tidying up and packing.

Finally, she came out of the bathroom and started sorting through her clothes, looking for something to wear. She quickly put on a plain white bra and knickers set, a pair of denims and a pullover. Without her make-up and despite the shower, she looked pale and totally exhausted. I had been sitting on one of the two armchairs in the room while she dressed, then she more or less flopped down into the other one.

"What a completely mad night," she said. "I thought I was never going to get back here. It was the trolls that caused the problem. Some of them told me you had gone to another pub with others from their group, but it turned out to be someone else they were talking about. Of course I didn't find that out until after I got to the pub where the trolls were going. It was up a narrow backstreet in a completely different part of town. I tried to call you, but the battery of my phone was dead."

"Why didn't you come back to The Shitty Whores?" I asked her.

"I tried to find my way back to The Shitty Whores, but I got completely lost. I ended up miles away at a boatshed near the harbour. I think it's where they built the longboat. Anyway, there was a bunch of big, hairy Vikings having a party there. I asked them to help me find my way back here and a couple of them offered to escort me. Of course they insisted we had a few drinks before they brought me back. Everyone was having fun and I even managed to get a Viking helmet for you. I lost track of time, but they did eventually bring me back safely."

"You must have known I would be concerned about what had happened to you."

"Yes and I was relieved you were here when I got back. I was hoping you wouldn't be walking the streets looking for me," she said.

"Well I did actually spend some time looking for you and I'm surprised it took you so long to get back, but as long as you're safe and sound, that's the main thing," I replied.

She reached over and put her hand on mine. "Thanks, Kenny. I'm sorry about the mix up, but I hope you enjoyed yourself. I'm tired out, but it was an amazing night."

"Yes," I said. "I suppose it was good fun, but I can't see us coming back anytime soon."

"I agree," she said. "As far as I'm concerned it was a once in a lifetime experience. I'll never forget it, but I don't think I'd want to do it again."

Later, during the 30 mile taxi trip to Sumburgh airport, Kirsty leaned against my shoulder and slept. In the departure lounge she leaned against my shoulder and slept. On the plane she leaned against my shoulder and slept. In the taxi home from Edinburgh airport she leaned against my shoulder and slept. When we got home she drank some water and then went straight to bed.

*

I was glad we had taken the rest of the week off work. Neither of us was in much of a mood to do anything other than take it easy. My liver needed a break from working overtime in Shetland and Kirsty complained she had pulled muscles in her legs and back. I think it took us until the weekend to get back to just about normal.

In the meantime I had a lot to think about. I would have preferred not to have found out that Donnie had fucked Kirsty during our trip to San Tomas in November. I was wrestling with the idea that my wife had been fucked by a stranger, but I wasn't able to come up with any meaningful response to Kirsty's suggestion that we just forget the whole episode. When all was said and done, I had to admit that I did have sex with Marie, even if it was only a blowjob. I remembered how Bill Clinton was mocked for being a self-righteous liar about his sexual encounters with Monica Lewinsky and I wanted to avoid being a hypocrite. Theoretically there was a debate to be had about the difference between sucking and fucking, but it was clear that Kirsty thought enough had been said and I'm fairly certain she was betting I would eventually come to terms with what had happened.

Despite feeling deeply uneasy I was beginning to reach the conclusion that I should accept Kirsty's suggestion, try to forget about what happened in the Canary Islands and get on with our lives. It helped that we enjoyed a lengthy session of love-making the weekend after we got back from Shetland. Kirsty was particularly loving and affectionate towards me, culminating in her waking me on Sunday morning with an enthusiastic blow job. Who knows? Perhaps she was trying to match Marie's level of expertise. There was no chance of me matching Donnie and giving Kirsty a deep drilling. I shut those thoughts away and concentrated on the here and now, making sure I gave her my best shot.

We had loads of photos from our visit to Shetland and the Up Helly Aa festival. Kirsty said she thought her mobile ran out of juice that night because she had taken so many photos. She uploaded the better quality photos to the usual social media websites and a couple of shots of the burning longboat were particularly admired by friends and neighbours. We had them printed and framed and hung them in our hallway above the horned Viking helmet that now sat on our hall table.

During February we settled back into our usual routine. Kirsty was working in Aberdeen a few days every couple of weeks. I was fairly busy at work and took the opportunity to work late at the office when she was away overnight. I could flex my working hours to avoid rush hour and shop at the supermarket on the way home for whatever I fancied for dinner.

People like me are not good at supermarket shopping. We tend to wander back and forth until we make up our minds, instead of just getting in and out quickly. Anyway, it was about a month after our trip to Shetland that I bumped into David Shepherd while wandering around the supermarket one evening. I hadn't met more than a handful of Kirsty's colleagues and I probably wouldn't have recognised any of them, except for David. I think it would be fair to say he was in touch with his feminine side, wearing a colourful waistcoat to brighten up the standard office attire and making him unmissable.

"Kenny!" he exclaimed, with a broad smile. "What a surprise. How absolutely lovely to see you!"

"You too, David," I replied, knowing I might be trapped in the supermarket for a while longer. Based on what Kirsty had told me, if gossiping had been an Olympic sport, David would have been an odds-on favourite for a medal.

"I see you're having to fend for yourself while Kirsty's away," he said. "How are you coping with that?"

"It's not too bad," I replied. "I often do the shopping, but I probably need to get better at deciding what's for dinner."

He chuckled. "I know. There's so much choice, but what I really meant was how are you coping with Kirsty away from home so much?"

"Well, there's not much I can do about it," I said with a shrug.

"I suppose you're right," he replied. "I was sorry to hear about her sister, but at least Kirsty was able to get permission to work in Aberdeen every second week, so she could be nearer to her."

I was puzzled. "What did she tell you about her sister?" I asked.

"Don't worry, Kenny," he replied. "Kirsty warned me not to tell anyone about her sister getting cancer. It must be stressful enough for her, without having well-intentioned friends and colleagues asking how she's coping. I'm sure it came as a horrible shock for you."

I was struggling to come to terms with what David was telling me. Kirsty didn't have a sister. In fact, she didn't have any close family at all. Her dad walked out on her mum when Kirsty was a toddler and her mum then drank herself to death, leaving Kirsty to be brought up by her widowed grandma. Dealing with the alcoholism and early death of her daughter, followed by her granddaughter's challenging teenage behaviour probably took more than a few years off the old lady's life expectancy. She had shuffled off the mortal coil a long while back.

"Yes," I replied, trying to keep my cool. "Horrible and shock are the words that spring to mind. Look, David, I don't think it's common knowledge and Kirsty would be quite upset if she knew we had been talking about it. Could you do me a favour? Please don't mention to Kirsty or anyone else that we met or that we discussed it."

"Of course not, Kenny. Anything to help."

"Thanks," I replied, deciding to change the subject. "Now what do you suggest I should have for dinner?"

David cocked an eyebrow. "What about sausages?" he said, with a mischievous grin. "I absolutely adore those big, porky ones."

"You're not the only one that likes big, porky sausages," I replied, "but I think I'll be looking for something fishy."

*

I didn't know exactly what Kirsty was up to in Aberdeen or with whom, but Donnie "Pony" Larsson was top of my list of suspects. After we got back from Shetland I hadn't wanted anything more to do with Donnie and Marie. However it was Marie who had suggested I keep a close eye on Kirsty. If Kirsty was up to anything with Donnie, Marie might know about it or be able to find out.

Kirsty and I had exchanged private email addresses with Donnie and Marie after the day trip to the beach at San Tomas. The next time Kirsty was away in Aberdeen I emailed Marie. My message was brief. All it said was "Can we talk about Kirsty?" and I included my mobile number.

Around seven o'clock that evening I answered a call from an unknown mobile phone number, but I recognised the accent immediately.

"Hello, Kenny, it's Marie here. How are you?" she asked.

"I'm doing okay, Marie," I told her, although I was far from it. "How about yourself?"

"I'm fine, Kenny," she replied. "I have to say I was a bit surprised to get your message. I thought it unlikely we would ever hear from you again after your visit to Shetland. We can talk about Kirsty if you want, but I usually try to keep my nose out of other people's business."

"You've got a funny way of keeping your nose out of other people's business," I said. "You could have done me a favour and left me in blissful ignorance to get on with my life. Instead of which, you dropped a bombshell on me by showing me a picture of my wife getting fucked by another man."

"I was trying to help, believe it or not," she replied. "I just wanted to give you a fighting chance to rein her in and keep her away from Donnie."

"It might be a bit late for that," I replied. "But perhaps you can help me figure out what's going on. Does Donnie travel to Aberdeen on a regular basis?" I asked her.

"Yes," she replied. "Donnie's in Aberdeen every couple of weeks. He has business interests there, as well as here in Shetland."

"That explains a lot," I said. "I'm betting that right now Donnie's in Aberdeen again."

"Yes, he's on a business trip, but how did you guess?" she asked.

"Let me put it this way," I replied, "Kirsty's been spending a lot of time in Aberdeen and I'm fairly certain she's been riding your favourite Shetland pony."

"What do you mean?" she asked. "Are you telling me she's been getting together with Donnie in Aberdeen?"

"Yes. I think it's a regular thing with the two of them," I told her. "In fact it probably started not long after we got back from the Canary Islands in November."

"Damn it. No wonder he's been so distracted," she replied. There was a slight pause and then she added, "Mind you, it must be costing her a pretty penny."

"What do you mean?" I asked. "She told me she's been staying with friends in Aberdeen, so it won't be costing her much."

"Donnie's got a house in Aberdeen," she replied. "But that's not what I meant."

"I'm sorry, Marie," I said. "I'm confused. Do you mean Donnie will be charging her for bed and breakfast?"

"You really don't have much of a clue, do you?" she replied. "Let me spell it out for you, Kenny. In case you hadn't noticed, I'm a working girl. That world class blowjob I gave you on the beach would cost at least a hundred notes here in Shetland and that's if you're a good customer."

"Oh my God!" I exclaimed. " I had no idea!"

"Don't be shocked, Kenny," she responded. "It's just a business, even if it's a very personal one. In fact, it's the oldest business in the world, as they say. And despite what a lot of folk may think, prostitution isn't illegal in Scotland. Pimping, on the other hand, is a criminal offence, but it's difficult to prove an escort agency is providing sex services. What it boils down to is that your wife got a free ride on our tame pony as a holiday treat, but she should be paying for any repeats. Donnie is supposed to sell his services, just like the girls and I do. Our business is an escort agency, first and foremost, but any extras we provide are not supposed to be free of charge. You can find us easily on social media. Just look for NESSIE -- North East Scotland Special International Escorts."

"From what you're telling me, if Kirsty is involved with Donnie, she would be paying him to have sex with her. Is that what you're saying?" I asked.

"I doubt she's getting it for free," she replied. "Maybe Donnie's got some special arrangement with her, but there's no such thing as a free ride in our business."

"Why are you telling me all this?" I asked.

"That's a good question, Kenny. It's not because you're a nice guy," she replied. "Let me put it this way. Donnie is our best salesman. It's true he can still do business when he's in Aberdeen, but maybe he's thinking with his dick and spending too much time with your wife. Our customers need to be able to reach him without having to leave voicemail messages that get no response until hours later. What it boils down to is the sooner Donnie stops fooling around with Kirsty, the better for everyone concerned. Do us a favour, Kenny. See if you can get her to stay home and be a good girl."

"I'll have to think about that, Marie," I replied. "I need to hear what Kirsty's got to say for herself, but the chances of us getting over this aren't looking very good right now."

"That's a pity, Kenny," she replied. "I'm not really bothered one way or the other what happens to Kirsty. For all I care, you can dump her lardy arse and get on with the rest of your life. As a professional, I suggest you cut her some slack. There's no shortage of men who are easily tempted to stray from the straight and narrow, but everyone pretends that women aren't supposed to give in to similar temptations."

"I'll wait and see," I said. "If I can try and keep her away from Donnie, maybe you could try and keep him away from her?"

"I'm making no promises," she replied. "I will see what I can do, but I'm not in a position to dictate to Donnie how he lives his life."

*

Kirsty returned from Aberdeen on Friday evening that week, but I waited until the next morning to confront her about my suspicions. In retrospect I realise I didn't have anything other than circumstantial evidence and hearsay, so maybe I should have done things differently. In any case, there was no tearful confession. Her response was total denial and she was outraged.

Hands on hips, she glared at me. "How dare you accuse me of running around behind your back. You're blowing things out of all proportion and your imagination is running away with you. The fact of the matter is simply that I have to do some work in Aberdeen. That's where the company's head office is. As for David Shepherd, he's a sad loner who gossips about anything and everything, even if it's unsubstantiated. Everyone in the Edinburgh office knows David makes up stories about people for his own amusement. Fake news! Then you tell me you've been back in touch with the tart who gave you a blow job on a Spanish beach last year. You've got a brass neck to accuse me of cheating. How do I know you've not been fooling around with her?"

I was taken aback. I thought I would be the one to surprise her, but I was surprised and shocked by the vehemence of Kirsty's verbal onslaught and it left me reeling.

"Wait a minute," I said. "Let's not be too hasty. I hear what you're saying and if there's nothing going on, that's fine. I'm just worried you're spending a lot of time in Aberdeen."

Kirsty visibly calmed down.

"Okay," she said. "The bottom line is that you don't have to worry about me having an affair with Donnie Larsson. He may be well equipped and he can be very charming, but he's no more than that. I could no more fall in love with Donnie Larsson than fly to the moon."

I wondered whether 'the lady doth protest too much', but I knew it would be counterproductive for me to pursue the matter. Kirsty was fully aware of that the paranoia on my part resulted from the combination of her once in a lifetime experience with Donnie Larsson in San Tomas and then us meeting up with him again in Lerwick. Despite my misgivings, it struck me as unlikely she would jeopardise our relationship. We had been together for many years, she had given me her assurance and I decided I should trust her.