Slugs Rule OK

Philip grew accustomed to Jill's idiosyncrasies. He'd met her at a pensioners club in Totnes, Devon. and they became friends. Although that wasn't the first time they'd encountered one another, Jill was having a problem with slug pellets in the supermarket. She'd dropped the package and there they were, rolling about all over the floor, but Philip, always the gentleman, came to the rescue...

"We must stop meeting like this," he smiled. Jill returned the smile thanking him for his kindness of late. Then he asked if she was having a problem with slugs. She replied that she was, that she'd tried everything, salt, lime, everything - but nothing had worked. "I have literally had hoards of them in my garden and they do so like my Tom Thumbs."

"Tom Thumbs?" Queried Philip.

"Lettuce, and they were my prize ones too, I say 'were' because the bloomin' slugs have eaten most of them up in one fail swoop overnight."

Jill had a shrill Devon accent but Philip, a cockney, born and bred, moved down from London after he'd retired.

We they sort of got chatting more open then, "Have you tried a half pint of beer?" Philip asked after a thought spasm

"Don't drink beer, Philip - can I call you that?"

"Of course you can, Jill and I didn't mean for you to drink it, I meant those irritating slugs!"

Now Jill looked puzzled.

"Well, what you do, " Philip explained, "you put the half glass of beer out at night and Bingo! Come the morning you will have a glass full of dead and very drowned slugs. They go for the smell of the beer you see, it somewhat attracts them, and when they slide into the liquid they can't get out again because they are plain drunk, and then of course they drown!"

Jill looked fascinated responding with a warm smile which rather attracted Philip.

Well one thing led to another and she tried the beer idea but still no go - well not really, there were drowned slugs yes, but the smell had also attracted hoards more, the beer was all gone and so were her new cabbage seedlings taboot!

"Well that's a shame Jill - I am told it usually works. Tell you what, let me come around and I will see if I can work out something!?"

And so, even although the slug problem was not solved, Jill invited him around to her bungalow once in a while for chat and coffee and that is really all he expected from this very elegant looking and proper lady. But he was soon to realise that looks were not all they seemed.

He complimented her on her crop of silken white hair saying it suited her, and how good she looked for a woman of her age. He was thinking she must be sixty or near and she still had a certain twinkle in her eye.

All went as expected for while. They had interesting chats, she telling him about her life, her late husband, Jerry who had recently gone with a younger woman, how she missed him and her two grandchildren who lived with her only daughter in Canada. Philip told Jill how he'd lost his wife too a year years before with a massive coronary. Not long after he'd come to Devon so she hadn't had much chance to enjoy their new life.

"So sorry to hear that, about Jerry. I just cant understand why he would want to leave you."

"Well, it was my passion with the garden as he called it. The bloody garden and those ghastly slugs he moaned, he was always moaning."

Was he jealous, I mean of your thing with gardening, Jill?"

"Seemed that way. You see he was the teacher who became the pupil, it was he who showed me the basics of gardening and when I took an open university course he didn't seem to like it when I was telling him what was best for the hydrangeas, the camellias and whatever. In fact it seemed to dull our relationship, I guess he'd been used to being the Macho man but there comes a time when a girl has to fight back. Never the mind, I feel I am the better without him. I can't deny I miss having a man beside me at night though, keeping me warm, yes I do miss that!"

Philip gulped, not sure how to respond to that, he played safe and told Jill that he also had just one grand daughter whom he hardly saw, living in Florida .

"You are older than me then?"

"Retired just over a year ago," he smiled. "Had my own building business, sold it and decided to retire early at sixty."

"Then that makes us a year apart," Jill responded with a wide smile, she wasa happy with that.

The chats and the platonic company suited Philip. At his age he felt that was all he really wanted. Jill was a great conversationalist and he liked her immensily. But he didn't want to enter into another close relationship. No, he was quite happy the way he was, he felt he couldn't handle any more emotional tie-ups.

But soon he discovered Jill wanted more than just conversation and refreshment.

One morning during coffee, Jill joined Philip on the sofa and collapsed into sobs as she reminisced about Jerry and how she missed him tremendously.

Philip's natural instinct was to gently comfort her, just that. He put an arm around her shoulders and she immediately responded by closing tightly to him. At the time this meant nothing to him. In the circumstances it was the natural thing for her to do. But it didn't stop there. It was as though the warmth of her slim body surged into his and all those feelings that had been pent up for so long were instinctively released.

The following morning he awoke with a start. It was in the early hours, barely 5am. He felt he had dreamt everything that had happened the day before. At least he'd managed to get back home despite Jill's reluctance. "Stay for the night," she'd urged.

But Philip wasn't ready for that. He wasn't ready for anything except a plain friendship with the lady - just that and no strings. He was altogether bewildered and confused. He'd made up his mind from the start he didn't want all that. Well that's what he concluded. But then the stifled feeling that make a man yearn for deep bonding was something else...

Breakfasting toast and corn flakes, he thought about him and Jill and just what did happen. Even now he couldn't believe it. Was it really like that? Thing is, he actually - if he was perfectly honest with himself - enjoyed it. He recalled her words:

"Jerry really liked this, just touching each other - as we get older he said, we don't want all that action stuff, just gentle persuasion he called it. I thought maybe you would enjoy it too, Philip?"

"Maybe, Jill - if you didn't keep mentioning your ex!"

"Sorry."

Despite her lack of tact he realised there was something about her that he could not resist.

He kept hearing her and seeing her in his mind. He knew it was no dream, it did happen and it happened to him so he must sort himself out. But the really odd thing, in his head, and as they were together in the most intimate way, when that sensual climax came, she yelled Jerry's name, not his. Either he was going to continue seeing her, which would probably result in his moving in with Jill, or forget it right now. He must tell her he'd better not see her again, not like that anyway. Okay, he cared about her, about hurting her, that she'd been hurt enough already, but that was his mind, best to tell her now, from the onset.

He decided to mull on it. He wouldn't meet with her until the afternoon of the next day at his place, she wanted to see the garden. "Nothing like yours," he said looking almost guilty but she returned that she could probably do something - some tidying or something." He'd have made up his mind by then. To tell her that is, that he wanted only to be platonic friends. "Do you have slugs?" she asked.

"In my garden?"

"Where else?"

"Well not that I've noticed. You are besotted by slugs aren't you!?"

She didn't answer, just grimaced.

But he realised his decision to be just friends wasn't that easy to effect. His encounter with Jill the day before had turned his mind to thoughts he had come to think were redundant. He'd lived and loved a happy life with Sue. She was all that a woman could have been and no one on earth could replace her. He'd be happy with just memories.

"Just look at Jill," he kept telling himself. "She's going on seventy, she's no chicken that you fancy for a bit of good old slap and tickle is she? She's nice, yes. She has a very pleasant disposition and, yes, he could still recognise her alluring sexuality in those sparkling not so old looking eyes, well, that's how they appeared yesterday when she...

"Don't be daft Philip Cartwright." he thought out loud. " You are living in the past. Take it upon yourself to be rid of all that, just enjoy a quiet peaceful retirement with no complications. That's what you decided upon wasn't it?"

But after breakfast Jill telephoned...

"Hello, Philip. How are you?" she asked with an alluring tone of voice and at once Philip felt he was no longer a lone ranger. Someone was taking a real interest in him again. A woman too. He was sixty five, plump-ish and slow moving. Not much hair on top, greying at the sides. In the time since Sue had passed on he'd become very set in his ideas and his ways. There was no room for another trenchant relationship in his life. He just kept telling himself that again and again and that was the truth of the matter. Yet, for all that, he found himself instinctively sharing joyful conversation with Jill again. And that perfume she used - it just did things to him he had almost forgotten about! He began to feel that his sexuality, that which he'd really thought had diminished, was taking over his senses, that certain drawing to the opposite sex that is impossible to define, but something so very strong and fulfilling.

"I was sorry you had to leave yesterday," she said looking upset, "It was so nice, so very nice to be with a very kind and appealing man again. I told you how I miss Jerry - emotionally as well as physically, you understand?"

"I do indeed, - you yelled out his name after all, you might as well come out with it, when we were making love you were imagining it was Jerry all the time, right?"

"I am so sorry if I offended you," she replied carefully, " not really an ego booster I should imagine. But I do adore you enormously, I really do - no doubt I proved that to you. But I've been thinking, maybe I was too impulsive for you. So, I thought I would just telephone to tell you not to worry too much about the physical part. Give yourself time, Philip.

Was she was telling him that he didn't come up to scratch, that's how it felt. But no matter, in a way he was relieved that she told him her feelings were not that deep, it would make it easier for him to call it a day.

"Damn! " she continued - with an apology for using the word, "how stupid I was to be so dominating, without thinking of your feelings, dear Philip. I admit I was selfish and stupid and hope you will forgive me for that?"

She fidgeted with her fingers tapping on the table, chattering about her garden and how she hated slugs and aphids - that they were indeed the gardeners enemy. Then she 'walked' her fingers across the table in a way that made Philip flush, reaching an empty cup upon the table she gently teased her small finger around the rim and it made him quiver, his spine tingle, and he didn't believe for one moment there was any motive or otherwise in her mind, it was like she was just doodling, like he did at times with a pencil and paper. He didn't know why but she had some sort of hold on him, that almost everything she did had erotic and suggestive undertones.

She caught his glance. "Used to do this with a glass to make them whistle," she smiled. "I do think the world if you, you know."

Philip didn't know what to say or do. His mind was still in a quandary. He did actually enjoy being with Jill yes, even if it was different to the kind of love he shared with Sue. Jill was different that's all, she enjoyed different things. There had only been one woman, Sue was his first girlfriend and his last. But to him she was everything.

"Look, Jill. I will be honest. I like you of course I do - but I need time. Just time."

"But can we continue seeing each other though, Philip - as long as I promise not to be a burden upon you?"

"If that's what you want, Jill. But please don't expect too much of me."

That was the understanding which, for a while, seemed acceptable to Jill. They still saw each other, even to the extent of Philip visiting her luxury cottage home.

Jill absolutely adored gardening and was proud to regularly show Philip around her herbaceous border, her beautifully varied rose beds and her large vegetable patch.

"Mind you," she advised, "I knew absolutely nothing about gardening until I married Jerry. Now I feel I have to keep it up, he put so much work into it. The patio, the design, he did everything himself and as for his vegetables - well he was always winning awards for his cucumbers and his marrows. We always enjoyed fresh produce fresh from the garden."

She paused, turned to Philip with an enquiring expression on her face: "Any more ideas on how to get rid of the proverbial slug?"

He thought awhile, scratched his chin and told her about the slug pub. It was an extended version of what she had already tried following his idea, but this time the aim was to put out a whole line of a score or more containers half filled this 'substance'. She responded with a bout of laughter. Is that what they call them, Slug Pubs?"

"Why yes, Jill. They are in the shops now, sort of plastic containers which you slightly fill with this alcoholic substance. Put them out at night as you did before with the solitary container, it attracts the slugs and they do die merrily - drowned in the liquid."

"It would take too long," she snapped. "The number of slugs I have in my garden.. It may be a crueller end for them but I will stick with the secateurs."

"Secateurs?" queried Philip.

"It really is the only way, messy job I know but I simply cut them in half. Much quicker and more humane than the slow death they suffer with most other remedies methinks!"

Philip pictured her in his mind, kneeling on the garden path with all those halves of dead slugs around her. Is this the woman he would really like to know on an intimate basis!

"Trouble is," she continued, "I have this obsession with slugs. See what they are doing to the cabbages and that's not all, just look at my prize dahlias - if you can recognise them as dahlias that is. When Jerry left I bought books and searched the web gardening pages. Then I made for the garden shed. Everything was there how Jerry had left it, all the potting compost, seeds, fertilisers and garden tools. I had to start from square one.

"Everything went well. I was quite proud of my achievement until this year when the horrible beastly slug embarked on destroying all my hard work. "I tried everything I knew of to rid the garden of them, but the next morning they always returned - in abundance, the secateurs treatment is my latest idea - but I will get the better of them, you see if I don't!"

Philip was lost for words not for the first time with Jill. He had no feelings one way or the other for gardening although he enjoyed the beauty of flowers and told her so. But he was useless to offer any further ideas as to how to dispose of slugs.

This was the first time he had encountered an embittered and angry Jill. If he had any thoughts about going into a serious relationship with her, her present outburst was a set back.

Sue was never like that. Always the quiet tranquil type. Took everything in her stead and that was good for him because, in his earlier days, he tended to be sensitive and short tempered. Sue recognised that and unwittingly found the solution in being just Sue.

How could he cope with Jill then? She was quite the opposite.

As the weeks went by however he was becoming more involved with this new woman in his life. Thing is, he knew the attraction was mainly sexual. Despite her age and the limitations it was all rather enjoyable. But as a personality - if he said what he really thought, they would certainly clash.

He was engrossed by her sexual advances, which seemed naturally to keep reoccurring, like the time in his greenhouse, her lesson on the best way to fertilise cucumbers. The heat was intense and soon they added to it - over the pricking out stool. Like a drug he could not do without the simple pleasures she could give and enjoy of him.

But he had to find a way of getting out of the entanglement knowing that the physical attraction alone could not make for a really sound long term relationship. He remembered, at his time of his life, he wanted just the peace and the quiet of being his own man again.

That was easier said, or rather thought about, than done. Jill seemed to take him for granted. He was almost like part of the furniture except somehow he resisted moving in with her.

When he eventually set his mind to telling her firmly that their relationship must end - and, on arrival at her place he almost got the words out, it was usually just those few words from her that set his mind into oblivion.

Then for the next hour, he was content with just the simple sexual pleasures she'd share with him, she expecting as if preferring hardly anything in return save his company and conversation, they endured a few moments of sheer heaven together. . Invariably she'd return to her problems with the slugs and instantly, Philip was back in the real world.

"Why do you keep secateurs on the locker beside your bed at night," Philip queried.

She just sort of grinned and mumbled something about being at the ready on a wet night when they really came out.

Their pleasure seemed as natural to her as eating meals or doing her daily chores. This was the reason why he could not end the relationship. Yet he envisaged, given time, the newness of it all would wear thin. Boredom would surely set in and then he would make his move. But for now he remained the pleasure of her erotic climes, which were his too.

She never stopped the chatter though. Sometimes Philip suggested she stop, just for a while, and she would, just for a while. But, inevitably she returned to the latest slug episode.

"I absolutely loathe and hate those nasty slimy sticky grotesque things," she said looking up at him. Stopping what she was doing, she started to lose concentration which was unusual because, a creature of habit he'd found her to be, she had always kept to a certain mode.

Things were changing. Running though Philip's mind, was It was the slugs. Thereafter she succumbed into tears and could not bring herself to partake in anything. "I had this loathsome dream last night, dear. You really must move in with me at the earliest possible moment. I simply cannot abide being so alone at night. Just me and those terrible creatures."

"The slugs?" Philip asked speculatively.

"Not the slugs, you dimwit!" She immediately apologised saying she didn't mean that.

"The spiders," she continued.

"The Spiders?"

"Yes. Last night, in my dream - but they seemed so real, I'm sure they were on my pillow. I had this dream of two huge, huge spiders crawling up my face. Oh! it was horrible, dear."

"They were just spiders, Jill. You mustn't get so worked up. A spider can't hurt you. Not in this country anyway, not like the Tunnel Web in Australia, now that is a killer, I've heard it comes up the lavatory basin and can give you a nasty nip on the you know where!"

She slapped him, "That is grotesque" Him thinking at last he may have found a way to put her off. "Anyway, I killed them." she continued, " I put them down the drain and poured boiling hot water into the sink. I could see their legs clambering to the edge of the drainage hole, even as I poured the hot water over them, it seemed for a while they were never going to lose their grip, that they would never die, that they would come crawling back at me and seek revenge."