White Out Hut

"But we can't afford anything, John," Mary protested.

"You won't need to. The materials? A couple of pounds if my father charges anything which he probably wouldn't. the time? Nothing. But by the end of tomorrow you could have draught-free widows that work properly. And that fire? The grate doesn't fit. The fireback needs replacing - about a fiver plus a few handfuls of cement."

"You're sure?"

"Yes. You need to be warm."

Before they could object I rang my father. He was free tomorrow because in this weather he couldn't work outside and he had no inside jobs at present. He agreed to meet me at their flat at nine thirty tomorrow morning, bringing sash card and parting beads.

After the meal all three of us were in their bed. I was naked and they had shed their dressing gowns. Mary was riding me while Anne's pussy ground over my face. I held back until Anne was satisfied and then they swapped ends. I couldn't hold back for long as Mary bounced up and down on me. I went to sleep with two women closely wrapped around me but twice more during the night I had to satisfy two demanding women. In the morning they left an exhausted John sleeping while they made breakfast.

About eight o'clock Anne had a text message.

"Shit!" she exclaimed. "Mary? They want us in theatre at ten fifteen. They have scheduled ten non-urgent operations today and will want us until six this evening."

"Anne? Could you trust me with your flat keys?" I asked.

"Dad and I can work when you are out."

"You're sure?"

"Yes, Anne."

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When my father arrived both women kissed him before leaving. By eleven o'clock all the sash cords had been replaced and the windows had new parting beads. By twelve, all the flat's windows were sound, draught-proof and moving smoothly. My father agreed with me that the fire need repairing. He left me with a club hammer, a cold chisel and a couple of black sacks to remove the fireback while he went to his yard to get a new one.

When he returned we put in the new fireback with quick-setting cement but he had also found an Esse closed fire. We fitted that and left it with its instructions while the cement dried.

We went around the whole flat making notes. The kitchen was old, shabby and the work surfaces were cracked. The bathroom fittings were also ancient and stained. The electrics? There were a few old round pin sockets, but too few and the wiring was possibly dangerous.

Next week Dad was fitting a new kitchen for someone else. He thought he might be able to salvage the old kitchen, less than ten years old, and replace the one in Mary and Anne's flat. The week after? A new bathroom that might mean the bathroom could be updated too. But we agreed the urgent task was the wiring. If I could help Rory, who was a qualified electrician, next weekend we might be able to rewire the whole flat to modern standards using many more switched double sockets. The cost? About fifty pounds. Would I pay?

"Yes, Dad. If they can't, which they probably can't. I'll pay."

"Are they worth it?"

I remembered last night.

Yes, Dad."

When Mary and Anne returned my father had gone. I had lit the Esse which was burning well and economically but heating the now draught-free living room far more efficiently than the old fire had done.

The two of them had expected the windows to have been done. But the windows were far better than they had expected. I explained how to use the Esse, and that they might need different fuel but far less of it. When I told them that they might have a new kitchen soon, and be rewired next weekend, they burst into tears.

"There will be one problem," I said. "When the rewiring is done, you will need to redecorate because the new wires will be in the walls with fresh plaster over them."

"Redecoration?" Anne said. "We can do that over months if necessary. We always intended to, but that is less important than having safe wiring."

"But is there anything we can do for you in exchange?" Mary asked. "What about your place?"

"I have had it for three years. My Dad, Rory and I have done all the building and modernising works and it is sound and in good repair inside and out. The only thing I need to do is replace the curtains that the previous owners left."

"Curtains?" Mary said. "We could do curtains. Now we have sound windows, our old curtains really need throwing away. They are shabby, stained, and torn. But we could do some for you as well, John, if you don't mind waiting a few weeks."

"A few weeks? That is infinitely better than sometime, never, when I could afford to buy new ones, if I could get them in the right sizes which I doubt."

"Then it's a deal. You'll get new curtains, meals with us, and us in bed. OK, John?"

"Yes, Mary. I would be delighted with all you offer."

We walked around the flat looking at the existing curtains. On the side where the wind was blowing from, snow was building up on the outside but I was pleased to see that unlike earlier, none was penetrating. Our window repairs had prevented draughts and were properly sealed.

"We are on duty tomorrow from six pm until 2 am and then our shifts are from six on Wednesday until Sunday morning." Anne said. "How will that fit with the work you want to do, John?"

"Um. I'd like Rory to come when you are here to work out what needs doing. How about Tuesday evening if he's free?"

"That would work. We can feed both of you. OK?" Anne said.

"Yes. I would have liked to take the two of you out to a restaurant but I won't have enough money if I'm funding Rory's materials - even at trade prices."

"Restaurant? That doesn't matter. Rewiring would be an investment, far better than any meal out. How much?" Mary asked.

"I think the materials for the rewire would be about the same as two meals for the three of us."

"But you, and Rory, if he's around at the right times, can have meals cooked by us as some repayment."

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On Tuesday evening the snow had gone. The four of us decided how many double sockets and where and how the lighting would be replaced, except for the wiring for kitchen. Rory would run some temporary cables into there until the new kitchen was in place.

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On a Sunday evening at the end of March, Mary, Anne, Rory and I were having an evening meal cooked by my mother. We were celebrating the completion of the work on the women's flat. All four of us (and my father from time to time) had been working hard for weeks. The two women had been working every shift they had been offered and making curtains when they could. Now their flat, my house, and Rory's flat all had new curtains.

I was pleased and relieved that Anne had decided that she wanted Rory as her boyfriend. It had been hard for me to satisfy two demanding women and now I just had to have sex with Mary.

Their flat had a modern kitchen with a built-in oven, a hob, extractor fan etc. Rory had bought a new kettle and toaster from the cheap range in a supermarket because he decided the old ones were electrically unsafe. Their ancient, stained and tobacco-coloured bathroom suite had been replaced by a brand new white suite after Rory and I decided that the recovered one wasn't really good enough. Even though the new bathroom suite was a special sale offer it was more than I could really afford. I paid for it by several day's work helping my father on some of his projects.

The rooms apart from the main living room had been heated by large and old night storage heaters. My father had found six much more modern slimline ones that used far less electricity but heated the flat better. We would have liked to change to gas-fired central heating but there was no gas supply to the building.

I had been out as a mountain rescue volunteer twice in the interim. I had been told that the National Trust had agreed that my shelter could be improved to make an emergency base as long as it remained inconspicuous and I knew work had started on it.

The four of us agreed to go for a walk next Saturday, weather permitting, replicating what I had done in February and also to see how my hut looked now.

We also discussed what else we could do. When the weather got better, the women's flat needed exterior decoration and all three properties could do with some tidying of the gardens but that might have to wait until May.

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That Saturday in early April we all had the day off. We agreed to go for a walk on the moors again to visit the newly finished refuge hut. It was a bright day, not cold but with a wind.

As we approached the hut I could see the faded blue of some of my old tarpaulin still covering one wall. My temporary walls had been professionally rebuilt by a skilled stonewaller and a full width porch had been added, with a wooden door. There was a carved sign 'John's Hut'. A chimney stack had been added and smoke was being whipped from the tall ceramic pot by the wind.

The outer door was offset from the inner door to prevent draughts. One long side of the porch was for hanging coats, with a stack of logs. The other, shorter side had a door to a chemical toilet with a washbasin.

Inside the hut we met two of the mountain rescue team. They made coffee for us on a two burner gas cooker. What I hadn't noticed was a lean-to that housed two large Calor gas bottles. They fed the cooker, a gas fire, prominently marked 'Use sparingly' and the hot water supply for the sink. Water had been brought from a cattle trough about seventy yards away and went to a soakaway.

There was now a wooden floor and small woodburning stove. The roof was wood lined and covered with corrugated plastic sheeting under solar panels that fed a bank of 12 volt batteries that provided the interior lighting but there were two double glazed windows away from the prevailing wind.

Against two of the walls were eight bunk beds. There was a table, six chairs and an old settee on which my mountain rescue colleagues had been sitting when we arrived. On the wall was a point for an extended aerial for mobile phones together with charging points.

The new walls were lined with panels from my old tarpaulin. One of the mountain rescue men saw me looking at it.

"That's our next task, John," he said. "Unlike the original walls which have had years of moss growing on them, the new walls aren't completely windproof yet. We are adding more moss on the outside but that takes time to grow. Your tarpaulin will stay there until the moss grows and then we'll line those walls with planks, probably before the Autumn. But even as it is, we are warm, draughtproof and very protected."

"It is so much better than when we were here in February," I said.

"It is, but what you made in a few hours was amazing, John."

"It kept us warm and dry," Anne said.

"And we met John here," Mary said.

"Which reminds me," I said. "Rory? Ready?"

He nodded, Both of us dropped to our knees. I proposed to Mary. Rory proposed to Anne. Both women squealed before saying 'Yes'.

I had prepared my mountain rescue colleagues. From a cool box one produced and opened a bottle of champagne.

My White Out Hut had brought me Mary and Anne. Now it was the place where I became engaged.

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