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Shut Up And Drive!

By: Denham_Forrest





It's not often that I write in the third person; but here goes for a short tale that's been kicking around for a while now. A version of it has been available elsewhere for sometime. However, it would appear that I am no longer satisfied of writing very short stories and having read this through again; maybe I want to know more about these characters myself.





I thank OB and BW for their assistance in preparing the original version of this tale for posting.



*****

Ted saw her standing there the instant he entered the bar. It wasn't the most salubrious of places at the best of times; what's more, it was advertised as a 'Singles Bar!' i.e. usually it was usually full of 'chancers' there on the off-chance that they might get lucky! Indeed, why else had Ted himself chosen to frequent the establishment?

However, Ted had not expected that he'd ever see her in there!

She was standing by the bar giggling, with the little band of hopefuls who were pretty obviously plying her with alcohol, and had all-but surrounded her; protecting their prey from any interlopers.

Ted knew what they were up to; he'd seen the guys in action more than a few times in the past. What would most likely happen later, after they'd all left the bar together- as Ted suspected the guys were planning for that evening as well - Ted had never bothered to contemplate in the past.

But that particular evening was different. She was different. She... should not have been there! Not in that place, looking for a little... fun on the side. Not that Ted thought she was going to get much joy out of the evening; if those chancers got their way.

Ted stopped and exchanged a few words with the doorman, one of the bouncers who kept things under control as best they could. They ejected the more obnoxious customers and watched-out for anyone who was trying to take or deal-in... illegal substances within the establishment. The local police were a might touchy about that sort of behaviour.

The doorman listened to Ted attentively and then nodded and informed him that he'd pass the message on to the rest of his colleagues. Then Ted went over to the far end of the bar, away from where the woman thought that she was holding court.

Ted purchased a pint and then retreated to his usual dark corner to consume it. Several people - knowing his reputation - vacated his regular table as Ted approached.

Sitting there in the dim light Ted watched as she danced with every one of the guys who were... hunting her. He watched as the four of them subtly saw-off anyone else who tried to invite her to dance. And he watched as they plied her with more and more alcohol and wondered if they'd resort to anything else. She was leaving her drinks unattended on the bar after all, and the two barmen were far too busy to spot everything.

--

"Taking it easy tonight, Ted?" One of the bar staff commented as he came around collecting empties.

The bar staff had noticed that he had been nursing the same pint since he'd arrived; not usual behaviour for Ted.

"Yeah, the brunette bird with those tossers at the end of the bar; I wanna make sure she gets home in one piece."

"Not like you, Ted. Someone special, is she?"

"You could say she was. A very long time ago!"

"Classy bitch, don't know what she's doing in here! If you don't mind me saying, a bit out of your..."

"Yeah, she was... and she still is! Nothing ever became of it; I just can't figure-out what the Christ she's doing in this dump!" 

"Looking for a bit on the side maybe? You know what some of these toffee-nosed birds are like?"

"Well, she'll get more than she's bargained for with those buggers!"

"So, are you going to play knight errant, Ted? Or are you intending to take advantage of the situation?"

Ted had glowered at the barman as he'd completed his sentence. Realising that he might have overstepped the mark some; the guy withdrew to the safety of his bar.

Around eleven-thirty she began to look decided unsteady on her feet, and a couple of the chancers appeared to trying to persuade her to leave. But she was having fun, gyrating around the small dance floor, so she refused... loudly!

But by twelve she was staggering, and from what Ted could make out, she'd decided herself that she'd better start thinking about leaving. However her newfound friends convinced her that another drink for the road, wouldn't do any harm.

It was as two of the chancers were assisting the woman through the door that Ted made his move. Several (large) members of the door staff - backed-up by two police officers standing near-by - had blocked their path just outside.

Ted, elbowed his way in amongst the chancers' and then swept the - by that time - almost unconscious woman into his arms.

"'Ere, what's your bleeding game?" One of the chancers demanded.

"Just taking the lady home lads; just taking the lady home!"

"Well, wha'd'ya think we wuz doing?"

"I don't know lads. But if that is the case; tell me, what's the ladies name and where does she live?"

"Stella! And if you know so bloody much, why don't you tell us where she lives?" The chancer replied.

"Her name gentlemen, is Estelle Cooper... Mrs... and I'm sure... when she's sober, she'd prefer it if the likes of you guys, didn't know where she lives!"

Ted's reply had been for the benefit of the two police officers, which were by then showing a marked interest in the confrontation.

A nod from one of the door staff caused the officers to take more interest in the chancers' than in Ted. The four guys hurriedly decided to disperse, once their names had been requested and dutifully noted down in the officers' notebooks.

The police officers had no need to ask Ted's name. His younger days had left him a little more notorious locally, than he'd have preferred to be.

Assisted by one of the door staff, Ted loaded the semi-comatose, but still babbling Estelle onto the backseat of his car.

"Are you taking her home, Ted?" One of the police officers enquired. "She don't look too clever!"

"I was going to. But going by the state of her; the General for a session with old stomach pump, might be favourite!"

"My thoughts exactly. I'll give them a call on the radio; let them know that you're coming."

"Cheers officer." Ted replied. Then he climbed into the driver's seat and set off towards the hospital.

-

"Has she taken anything?" The emergency doctor asked, pulling Estelle's eyelids open so he could look at size of her pupils.

"Too much bleeding jungle juice for a start, Doc. But I wouldn't put it past those wankers she was drinking with, to have slipped her something on the quiet. They definitely thought they were gong to get lucky this evening; if you get my drift?"

"In this condition; that would be tantamount to rape!"

"Makes no difference to those tossers Doc; you know that as well as I do! She'd wake up tomorrow dumped somewhere; with a headache, a sore fanny, and have little recollection of how she got either."

"So where do you fit into the equation Teddy? Not quite your style carrying maidens in distress, in here."

"We have history, sort-of, Doc. Not great history I have to admit; but history of sorts all the same. I always knew I'd be the guy from the wrong side of the tracks as far as Estelle and her family were concerned; so I worshipped her from afar."

"Ah, I see; daddy would not have approved?"

"You got it doc. And I doubt Estelle would have, either!"

"But she's married though, she's wearing a ring. Where's her husband this evening?"

"Buggered if I know Doc. He weren't in that pub anyway. A bit careless of him really; I wouldn't let a looker like Estelle out of my sight."

"Well, we'd better get her stomach cleared out; stop anymore alcohol getting into her system. Are you going to call her husband, or shall I?"

"I think it better if neither of us do, Doc! How's she going to explain the state she's in to him? I've got no idea where she lives anyway. Although I do recall she married some geezer by the name of Cooper.

"She has no handbag or anything; that might have some information in it?"

"Not that I'm aware of, Doc!"

"All right. She's drunk and incapable, we can do what's necessary to preserve her health, without written consent."

I'll leave you to it the Doc. I've had my stomach pumped a few times, and I don't think I'd care to witness the procedure carried out on anyone else."

"You're not leaving, Ted?"

"No, I'll be outside polluting the atmosphere and removing some unsightly evidence of her presence from my car. If you get one of your nurses to give me a yell when the messy bits over; I'll sit by her bed until she wakes-up. Well, she'll have to get home eventually, won't she?"

-

Estelle struggled to open her eyes. Her head felt worse than she could ever recall it feeling before and she had no idea where she was.

The ceiling though, once she focused on it, did seem very familiar. "I'm in hospital!" She eventfully whispered to herself, "How did I get here?"

"I brought you here. You were as pissed as a fart last night!" A voice said from off to her right.

Estelle slowly turned her head to look at who'd spoken. There sat some stranger, maybe thirty or so years old, she thought.

"Do I know you?" She asked.

"No Stella, doubt you do. But I know you; and you were keeping some real unsavoury company last evening. I had to wait until you passed-out before I could..."

"Could do what?" Estelle demanded.

"Well Stella. I somehow I didn't think that pulling a train was quite your style. So I interrupted the wankers' plans; stepped-in and brought you here to have your stomach flushed out. You were pissed out of your skull; you silly cow! What were you doing in a place like that anyway?"

"Pulling a train?" Estelle repeated, not comprehending the metaphor.

"Four frustrated perverts taking turns with one female, Estelle. The Yanks call that pulling a train. I suppose those guys figured that you'd be the engine that would keep them all going, if you get my drift? Where I come from, we'd call it a bike relay; as in village bike! Christ, if you were looking for a bit on the side, girl; you could have done better than that bunch of wankers!"

"How dare you impute that I'd do anything like that? Who do you think you think you...? Estelle began to say; but as she spoke, she instantly got that déjà vu feeling.

The guys face was familiar and she could vaguely recall saying almost the same words to him sometime in the distant past. The circumstance she could not recall though. However, Estelle had been famously adept at seeing-off unsuitable prospective suitors in her younger days.

"God, I know you, don't I? You were at college weren't you? Ted Something-or-the-other; always getting into trouble on that motorcycle of yours!"

"Yeah, that's me Stella; Ted Something-or-the-other! I never did fit in with your high and mighty circle, did I?"

"Oh God, I'm sorry, but I just can't recall your name. I suppose that I should be grateful that you brought me here."

"Yeah, I suppose... you should!"

"Oh Christ, I'm sorry; I'm so confused. That didn't come out as I intended. Look Ted, I'm truly grateful that you did bring me here last night. Um, where did you... er...?"

"Find you?" Ted suggested.

Estelle smiled weakly and nodded.

"In the singles bar, up behind the station. Bit of a dive for you Estelle! What the hell were you doing in there?"

But before Estella could answer Ted's question, the doctor arrived to check on her over before he went off-duty.

"Ah, our patient's awake I see. How's the head young lady?"

"Not good doctor. My stomach hurts as well!"

"That's from all the throwing-up you were doing. Didn't exactly save you from the dreaded stomach pump though, we had to flush you out a bit. You know you're a very lucky girl; Ted here saved you from a fate that some women would consider worse than death last night. God alone knows where you'd have finished up without him." The doctor said as he examined Estelle's eyes again.

Estelle looked across at Ted, who suddenly was looking very embarrassed as the doctor began to address him.

"We've sent those blood samples of Estelle's down, Ted. We don't think they'll find anything except excessive alcohol. But if they come up with anything that shouldn't be there, then the results will be passed on to the police. You did say that they got those guys names didn't you?"

"No!" Ted replied.

"Oh, the officer must have told me then; he popped in while you were both asleep. I couldn't see much point in waking either of you. I think he was really here to check that Estelle had arrived safely."

"I might have guessed it!" Ted exclaimed, "Do someone a good turn, and the coppers are looking to pin something on me."

"Nothing of the kind, Ted! The police officer was just doing his duty in ensuring Estelle had arrived here safely. He praised your actions actually. He said that you saw something suspicious happening and acted accordingly. What's more you brought Estelle straight here when a taxi driver or something, might have dumped her anywhere, after she'd thrown-up in his cab like that.

"Apparently he went past earlier, when you were cleaning your car up. He thought he'd leave it until you were finished."

"Kind of him. He could have helped!"

"Come on Ted; you know that no good turn goes unpunished! Hey, maybe you should have left it until this morning when Estelle could have helped you. It might teach her to be a little more conservative in her alcohol consumption in future."

"I was sick in your car! Oh, how embarrassing; I'm so sorry Ted!"

"Stella throwing up in my car ain't the half of it, you should have seen yourself last evening. I'm sure daddy would have disowned you! Just what were you doing in that dive, anyway?"

Estelle looked from Ted across to the equally curious doctor.

"Actually I was hoping to surprise my husband last evening. I've been told that he goes in there quite often with his latest slut. Obviously they didn't show last night and I hung around for too long."

"Much too long Mrs Cooper. Anyway I think that it's safe for Ted to run you home now. Just don't be alone for the next few hours or so, and for God's sake don't drive until tomorrow at the earliest. You're still technically drunk; well over the drink drive limit anyway!"

"Thank you doctor. From the way my head feels, I don't think alcohol will ever pass my lips again."

"That's not the first time I've heard a patient say that on a Sunday morning Mrs Cooper, and I doubt it will be the last! Regretfully it's usually the same patients repeating themselves every few weeks. I'll send the nurse in with your clothes."

The doctor left and a few minutes later a nurse appeared around the edge of the curtain screen carrying Estelle's clothes. As she did so, Ted stood to make his way out of the cubical. But as the two passed each other they exchanged smiles and nurse planted a brief but familiar peck on Ted's cheek."

"We've done what we can, but your dress Stella, it still has traces of vomit on it. Teddy suggested that you might prefer to wear this. At least it doesn't smell!" The nurse said to Estelle, after closing the curtain.

"What is it?" Estelle asked, staring down at the folded garment the nurse had dropped onto the bed.

"A boiler suit. Ted keeps it in his car in case of emergency. It is clean, and at least it doesn't smell of vomit. I'm afraid your lovely dress is going need a dry clean at least. But even then, there might be stains. You must have been in some god-awful state when Teddy dragged you in here last night Stella!"

"You know Ted?"

Of course I do, Stella. Everyone knows Teddy; I'm one of his regular bodies..."

Estelle did know what to make of that strange remark, and chose not to enquire.

"And I know you Stella, from college. But I doubt you remember me?"

"I believe I do... remember you, that's is. Brenda... er, Green. You were good friends with Sheila Withen weren't you? Doctor Sheila... Thomas, as she is now."

"Brenda Brown actually; different colour, but close enough considering we never actually met each other to speak to before. I didn't have the makings of a doctor, so I settled for becoming a nurse instead."

"Brenda, I could really do with a shower before I go home."

"Bad timing Stella. Our shower down here is out of commission, so you'd have to use one of the ones up on the ward, and at this time of day it's a madhouse up there. Why don't you take a shower at Teddy's place? He's got a great set-up back there in his changing room and you might even find something a little more... well, more feminine than that boiler suit anyway, to wear."

Brenda stuck her head though the curtain and asked Ted if Stella could use his shower. Ted agreed and also suggested that Stella would probably find something more suitable to wear on the rack.

Stella overheard the exchange, but once again chose not to enquire too much.

She did wonder exactly why Ted would apparently have some female clothes at his home. She even wondered why Ted would refer to them as being on a rack. But because Brenda didn't sound at all surprised by the fact that Ted kept some female clothes at his home; Stella decided not to enquire why he would have them there. She also thought that Brenda would not have suggested that she used Ted's shower, if it wasn't completely safe for her to do so.

After signing the relevant paperwork and feeling very self-conscious, dressed in Ted's oversized - for her - boiler suit; the sleeves and legs rolled up and wearing her stiletto heeled shoes. Estelle followed Ted out to his car, which had the distinct odour of disinfectant inside.

Out of embarrassment, Estelle didn't comment on the smell.

It was but a short journey to Ted's house. A deceptively spacious, small and very old looking cottage; that must have been standing there for many years before any of the other houses in the street had been built. 

Estelle was surprised to see that the down stairs had been knocked through to make one large interconnected space. There was a neat kitchen tucked away in one corner and very little furniture; just a few lounge chairs and no television set. However the surface of every wall was almost completely covered in works of art.

"I see you go for the minimalist approach to furnishing, Ted."

"Down here, yes!"

But as he replied, Stella's eye fell upon what she thought was an anomaly amongst the paintings. Estelle had never considered herself a connoisseur of art, but hanging there before her was what appeared to be a print of Constables 'The Hay Wain'. That one print, amongst all those oil colours looked out of place to Estelle and she found herself drawn towards it.

"My God, it's not a print!" She found herself forced to exclaim, when she realised the fact.

"There's no prints here Stella! That's an oil on canvas copy!" Ted informed her.

"But who painted it?"

Estelle lent close so that she could make out the signature.

"T. E. Harper! I know that name; I've seen it before. He... or she, painted that big mural in the college entrance hall."

Then Estelle noticed that the next painting to it, was also signed T. E. Harper... and the next. She spun around and looked at Ted.

"Theodore Edward Harper, at your service milady." Ted grinned at her.

"Not Ted Something-or-the-other then?"

"No, Stella!"

"Oh god I'm so sorry. I had no idea that you were such a talented artist Ted; or should I call you Theodore?"

"No bugger gets away with calling me Theodore, Stella. Unless they are writing me a bleeding great cheque, that is! Now, if you are going to take that shower, you'd better get your arse in gear."

"Charming turn of phrase!"

"I don't stand on ceremony Stella; you should have figured that out by now. The room on the right at the top of the stairs is the models changing room; off that, you'll find a shower room. And you'll see the costume rack, loaded with clothes that my models wear in there as well. You'll have to be a little choosy though, some of them are a little on the risqué side; it's what some of my customers want."


Shut Up And Drive! Ch. 02



The story of Ted and Estelle and their coming together was told in the original or first part of the story. However some readers have commented that they wished to hear more of them and their interactions with other people in each other's lives. I'm not quite sure what readers are expecting here, but I will point-out that I do not expect that anything drastic will happen; or even anything vaguely interesting, at least I don't think...

Here we go then, but no complaints please. I hope my attempting this, is not going to turn-out to be a big mistake. Hey, when I start typing I have little idea where the characters will take the yarn. I might have a vague idea of where I'd like them to take it; but it's the characters within my stories that are in control of everything, not my conscious mind. I'll also add that this yarn is written third person omniscient; not my preferred genre.

One thing that I think I should mention is that once I got started I decided that I needed to change Estelle's family name to "Warender" (sometime in the future I'll get around to reposting the first part of the yarn with that corrected). As always there is a reason behind me making such changes; I suddenly realised that Estelle's parents (especially her mother) reminded me of a couple characters in a certain (now long defunct) TV series; certain other characters names are respectfully borrowed from BBC comedy radio series.

*****

Chapter 2; Estelle's Parents

It was with more than a little apprehension that Ted parked his Ford alongside the Bentley and BMW, that were strategically positioned - to display the owner's affluence - on the driveway in front of the Warender family seat.

Ted rarely felt comfortable around - what he himself described as - "upper class gits!" Especially, if they tried to come-on too-strong for him to stomach. In the past it hadn't been unknown for Ted to lose his cool and tell them exactly what he thought of them. Although, if there was likely to be a large cheque in the offing at the end of the encounter, Ted had been known to summon up enough self-discipline to bite his tongue.

However the two people Ted was about to be introduced to were the parents of Estelle; the woman he'd secretly worshipped since he'd first clapped eyes on her - some fifteen or sixteen years before. And whom - since her sudden self-proclaimed change of perspective, (in the past a famously stuck-up bitch herself) had implied to Ted that her parents (well her mother at least) was an even worse snob than she'd ever been.

Oh, not for one second did Ted believe that Estelle was the new woman she claimed that she had become. Ted was quite sure that Estelle would very soon revert to type, even if just superficially. But he was pretty convinced that she had fallen in love him and he knew that he loved Estelle. Ted's attitude was, that Estelle might be a stuck-up bitch, but she was going to be his damned stuck-up bitch; no matter how much Estelle claimed otherwise... Well, a leopard can't change its spots, can it?

As Estelle slid out of the passenger seat, it struck Ted that the outfit she was wearing might not have been such an appropriate choice. It was something Stella had "found" upon Ted's models' outfit rack and he thought that maybe it was a touch too revealing for the occasion. Perhaps it might have been better if they'd called into Estelle's house so she could change into something more fitting from her own wardrobe. But not knowing if Estelle's soon to be ex-spouse was still in residence... well it had been decided that there was little point in inviting a punch-up.

Ted caught a glimpse of a shadowy figure moving behind the net curtains as Estelle sashayed her way towards the front door on those exquisitely long legs of hers. Shown-off to perfection as they were, by the briefness of the dress's hemline and the height of the stiletto heels on her shoes. He was quite sure that Estelle knew exactly what she was doing to the inner Ted when she walked like that.

Trailing along (somewhat) reluctantly, Ted was gazing around at the overt opulence of the abode and it's immaculate gardens and wondering whether the house was going to be even worse on the inside, not even daring to contemplate the reception that he was about to receive.

Opening the front door with her own key, Stella called out, "Come along, darling!" and then very pointedly she winked at Ted and added, "Please?" before disappearing inside. That was the first time Ted could recall that Stella had addressed him as "Darling!" and it did further strange things to his psyche.

Ted stopped on the threshold, reached up to straighten the necktie that he wasn't wearing and inwardly cursed himself for neglecting to put one on.

The fact that he didn't habitually wear a necktie, added to the point that Ted had not the slightest clue as to where his meagre supply of ties could be located, did not enter his thought process. All that did, was to highlight the fact that he was about to meet the parents of the woman he loved for the first time, and he knew that he should be wearing a bleeding necktie.

From some folks' perspective it might look like Ted had been dragged-up and he'd always enjoyed playing the bad-boy. But when the occasion demanded it, Ted could display impeccable manners; it was just that he selected very carefully to whom, Ted would or would not display those manners.

As Ted had suspected it would, the inside of the house had the look of a show-home about it. Not a place many people would choose to live in, more a collection of carefully selected, expensive furniture, on display to be gazed at and admired.

Estelle led to way into the lounge where her mother was waiting... positioned, seated on a chair for effect. Estelle's father was... hovering over near the window, from where he could make a choreographed advance towards Ted as Estelle introduced them.

"Mother, father, this is Ted, my soon to be new husband." Estelle casually announced as Ted followed her into the room. "Ted, my mother and father!"

Estelle's father timed his move to perfection. The grinning man advanced towards Ted proffering his hand, but addressed his daughter first. "You've got to divorce Roger first, Topsy. That'll take a couple of months I'm sure. I'm very pleased to meet you young man!" Estelle's father said, switching his attention to Ted as he spoke and shaking Ted's hand... maybe a little overenthusiastically. "You do realise what you're taking on here, don't you, young man?"

"I believe I do, yes, sir." Ted replied. A little surprised by Estelle's father's seemingly relaxed and enthusiastic greeting.

But then Mr Warender fixed Ted with a stern expression. "I'm Norman, Ted. I'm sure that we're going to get along just fine. But I'll point out that Estelle here is the apple of my eye and I'm not someone you'd want to get on the wrong side of."

"I understand you perfectly... Norman. Estelle has been the apple of my eye for far longer than I care to remember: I would never like to see her upset about anything!"

The two men smiled at each other. A mutual understanding reached and agreed between them; even if only a perfunctory one.

While Ted had been talking to Estelle's father, her mother had risen to her feet and had been studying the interloper in the life she had planned-out for her daughter, with a critical eye, plus a healthy measure of inherent disdain. Not that Daphne Warender's plan appeared to have been working true to course of late.

Theoretically Roger Cooper should have been perfect: he had the breeding, all the right family connections and he certainly had a very healthy bank account.

Had Roger and Estelle produced grandchildren for Daphne, he would have been able to afford to send them to all the right schools. However Estelle had been somewhat intolerant, and shown a marked reluctance to ignore Roger's little peccadilloes.

Now suddenly - and completely out of the blue - Estelle was saying that she was intending to divorce Roger Cooper and marry this long-haired hippy painter, or whatever he was. Daphne Warender was not impressed with the plan.

On feeling Daphne Warender's hostile gaze; once again the lack of a necktie entered Ted's thoughts.

"I'm pleased to meet you Mr... I'm sorry, my daughter has been a little remiss."

"Harper, Mrs Warender. Ted Harper at your service, ma'am!" Ted replied, immediately wishing he could withdraw the statement. Mrs Warender had not looked best-pleased with his words.

"Take a seat please, Mr Harper." Daphne Warender invited.

Ted, Estelle and Daphne Warender, seated themselves, while Norman Warender strolled back over to a window at the other end of the room and stood there, ostensibly gazing out of the window, his hands clasped behind his back. However every few seconds or so, Norman Warender would turn, glance over at Ted and Estelle, before turning away again and secretly smiling to himself.

"Estelle would you please explain what's going on?" Daphne Warender demanded. "Your father has been somewhat obtuse and rather vague about events over the weekend. Purposely so I suspect!" Daphne threw a withering glance at her husband's back.

"I'm going to divorce Roger mother, and then Ted and I are going to get married as soon as we can arrange it."

"But Estelle..." Mrs Warender began to reply until her husband interrupted her.

"Daphne, maybe some tea would be a nice idea, about now!"

Oddly, Ted thought - he'd got the impression that Estelle's mother was about to... go-off on one! - Mrs Warender instantly acquiesced to her husband's suggestion.

"Yes Norman, I agree!" Daphne replied, then stood to leave the room.

However Daphne Warender delayed just long enough to suggest that Estelle went to her old room and found something "more appropriate" to wear at that time of the day.

"Good idea, Topsy!" Norman Warender agreed.

Ted mouthed the word "Topsy?" to Estelle as she went to follow her mother from the room. Estelle shrugged, smiled back at him, stealing a glance towards her father's back as she did so, then was gone.

Ted found himself sitting alone in the room looking at Estelle's father's back while he continued to gaze out of the window.

Norman Warender smiled inwardly as he heard the door close behind Stella.

"Correct me if I'm wrong, Ted. But you have a studio on Bell Lane, don't you?" Norman Warender asked

"You are correct S... Norman."

Norman Warender smiled again, and silently chuckled to himself; satisfied that Ted was who Norman had thought he was.

Estelle's father had recognised Ted Harper's name the instant his daughter had mentioned him the previous day. And he'd remembered how in her younger days, Topsy had ranted-on about the insolent fellow college student.

As a child Topsy had always been her "father's daughter". It was to him she taken her troubles and for a while - as she grew older - those troubles had included Topsy's romantic problems as well. However as her teenage years progressed his Topsy, had morphed into Estelle, as she'd fallen more and more under her mother's influence.

However Norman Warender could vividly recall - many years before - that one of Shakespeare's famous quotes, "Methinks the lady doth protest too much!" had crept into his mind when his Topsy had complained to him about the handsome young hooligan at college, Ted Harper, who had accosted her.

What's more, Norman Warender had noted that it hadn't been Estelle he'd just watched climb out of Ted's car and walk to the front door. It had been a sudden and unexpected reincarnation of his Topsy returning home. Norman Warender had been forced to conclude that the young man sat on the sofa behind him, had to have been the catalyst for that sudden and instantly recognisable change in his daughter's demeanour.

Still keeping his face adverted from Ted's sight, Norman Warender asked.

"Do you still ride that infamous motorcycle of yours, Ted?"

"We.., well no sir." Ted stuttered in reply. Completely taken aback by Norman Warender's question. "I still have it though, tucked away in the back of the garage." Ted was somewhat concerned about what Estelle's father was about to say next. Especially taking into account that Mr Warender had blatantly engineered it so that they were alone in the room.

Norman Warender spun on his heel, looked Ted directly in the eye and smiled at him.

"Ted, the local college has a governing body as you know. On which, I - for my sins - had the dubious honour of serving for a few years. I vividly recall your infamous stunt with the motorcycle... most entertaining, that meeting was as well. However there were many of the faculty who were convinced your antics were just a case of misguided and/or slightly over-enthusiastic ingenuity on your part; more than a case of devilment.

"You're reputed to be a very talented artist young man; even if a little outlandish in your behaviour at times. However, you will find that even the most conservative of people..." Norman Warender's eyes moved to the door and then back to Ted. "will overlook almost any eccentricity, in favour of talent, and her daughter's happiness. Just you make sure that Estelle stays happy, young man; do you understand?"

"I believe so S... Norman." Ted replied.

"Very well, but until my wife understands exactly who you actually are Ted. This might prove to be heavy going today. We are unable to convince Daphne of anything though: that realisation will have to be her own."

In truth Ted had little or no idea of what Norman Warender had been talking about. Ted assumed that Norman had been trying to explain to him the same thing as Estelle had: that his wife, Daphne Warender was a raving snob and would very likely to turn out to be the bane of Ted's life.

A few moments after her mother carried the tea tray into the lounge, Stella, returned dressed very much like a teenager. Resplendent in faded denim jeans, that Ted truly did wonder how Stella had managed to squeeze herself into, and an extremely tight fitting tee-shirt.

No one could possibly the mistake the fact that Estelle was not wearing a bra. Although from personal knowledge, Ted was well aware that Stella did not require artificial assistance to keep those remarkably ample breasts of hers under control. Estelle's nipples though... now that was a completely different matter. They were - what Ted was sure her parents would consider - obscenely prominent. On her feet Stella was wearing a pair of well-worn trainers.

"My God Estelle, what have you got on?" Daphne Warender demanded, the instant she turned around and saw how her daughter was attired.

"Mother, you wanted me to change out of Ted's lovely dress and this is about all I could find up there that fits me. Well to be honest these jeans are a little on the snug side, I'm not too sure I'll be able to sit down in the buggers. Mind you, I'm quite proud of the fact that I can still get my bum into them; I haven't had these things on since I was eighteen."

Stella's mother had reacted saying "Estelle!" as her daughter had said the word 'bugger', but Stella had ignored the rebuke.

"Surely you could have found something a little more..." Daphne Warender began to insist.

"Mother," Stella interrupted, "I haven't lived in this house since I before got married. There's nothing much left up there! Just a couple of evening dresses really! Oh, but there are a couple of my old school uniforms, however they're so short they've got no chance of covering my arse!"

"Estelle!" Both her parents admonished together." Her father adding, "That's enough!"

"I'm sorry, daddy. But until Roger gets out of the house I'm stuck with this and the clothes Ted's got on his rack. I thought that dress I had on was quite cute... alluring actually. Maybe more suitable for a fun night-out on the town than day wear, and possibly even a little risqué, but great fun to wear all the same. Now would you like me to pour the tea mother?"

"No, I can manage, thank you!" Daphne Warender replied.

Placing one hand on Ted's shoulder and the other on the arm of the sofa, Estelle rather stiffly and somewhat gingerly lowered herself onto the seat beside him.

"Crikes that might have been a big mistake, lover. I'm not so sure now, that these jeans were such a good idea. They're nigh-on cutting me in half. I'll never be the same again!" She giggled to Ted."

Her mother threw Estelle a withering glance as she handed Ted a cup of tea.

They certainly show off your figure, Stella." Ted commented.

"Yeah but they were far too tight when I bought the things years ago and I've put on a few pounds since then, Teddy."

"Instead of talking utter nonsense, Estelle; you might explain exactly what has happened over the weekend." Daphne Warender chided.

Estelle had a decision to make: exactly how was she going to explain the weekend's events to her parents? For a few moments she did and said nothing as she contemplated her options.

Then she glanced at Ted and decided that his no-nonsense approach to life was the way to go.

Stella conceded in her own mind that it possibly wasn't the best approach she could use with her parents, but she thought that it might prove something to Ted. Even if she wasn't exactly sure, what it would prove.

Stella kissed the new man in her life on the cheek and then fixed her eyes on her mother.

"After my last... confrontation with Roger over his extramarital activities, which, if you recall mother, happened here in this very room not seven weeks ago. I told my husband that if he ever even thought about straying again, our marriage would over. You do remember that, mother?"

"Yes dear, but you were..." Her mother began to say

"Mother, I was pissed-off with it! That was the third different tart I'd learnt that Roger had been... associating with, this year alone!"

"There's no need to use coarse language Estelle." Her mother observed.

"Coarse language doesn't worry me, mother; Roger's coarse tarts do! Or did anyway."

Estelle calmed herself, by giving Ted a hug and kissing him on the cheek again. She would have liked to feel his lips against her own, but thought that might be taking things too far for her mother's... constitution to handle.

"Anyway I recently received information that my so-called reformed husband wasn't as reformed as he claimed to be. I learnt that he had taken to the habit of partying with a particularly low moral'd hussy in a certain public house on Saturday evenings.

"Last Saturday evening, I planned to lay-in-wait and ambush them together when they arrived in that bar.

"However I miscalculated. I arrived at the bar far earlier than I needed, and what's more my cheating spouse and his tart didn't show."

"Your information must have been incorrect then, Estelle!" Daphne Warender suggested.

"No it wasn't incorrect, mother; Roger had just changed his modus operandi. A two timing conniving bastard he might be; but daft, the bugger isn't! He knew that I'd eventually discover where and when he was meeting his bit of stuff."

The word "bastard" had prompted a sharp intake of breath in Daphne Warender, but somehow she'd managed to refrain from making comment.

"Anyway while I was waiting for Roger, not to show; I made the mistake of taking-on a little too much Dutch courage and the next thing I know I was complexly legless... rat-arsed... absolutely falling-down drunk, mother!"

"Estelle how could you? that's no way for a lady to behave!" Daphne Warender chided, a shocked expression on her face.

"Now hold on there, Estelle." Ted intervened. "One of those numpties might well have slipped something into your drink."

"My god, what kind of a place is this?" Daphne Warender demanded.

"A rather un-salubrious establishment near the railway station, mother; that purports to be a singles bar. One of my soon to be ex-husband's favourite hunting grounds, as I understand it! Anyway, fortunately Teddy here recognised the predicament I found myself in and rode to my aid like a knight from King Arthur's court."




Shut Up And Drive! Ch. 02



"And just what was Ted doing in such an disreputable establishment?" Daphne Warender demanded.

"Ted is a professional artist, mother!" Estelle ranted. "A very good artist and he was supposed to be meeting a prospective client in there on Saturday evening. It's very handy for the railway station. Besides, Ted was unattached, he was perfectly entitled to be in a singles bar, alone!"

Ted was somewhat amused to hear the overt untruth effortlessly flow from Stella's mouth. Designed - he was sure - to divert Estelle's mother's attention from the true reason he had been in the Pig and Whistle on that fateful evening.

"Ted noticed that I wasn't looking very well and took me directly to the hospital. I had my stomach pumped, mother, and I'm rather pleased to be able to report that I cannot remember very much about it. I get flashes now and again, and they are not of an experience that I'd wish to be able to recall in detail.

"Ted sat by my hospital bed watching over me all night long and then he wet-nursed me through Sunday. Even supplying me with clean clothes to wear, my own being somewhat stained with my own vomit. I'm ashamed to have to admit that I vomited inside Teddy's car as well. However Ted behaved like a perfect gentleman and he supported me during a somewhat ugly and distasteful confrontation with Roger."

Stella's gaze moved to her father.

"It was really quite funny, daddy! Roger suddenly lost all of his usual bravado when he was confronted with my guardian angel. Handsome isn't he, mother?"

Then Stella kissed - the slightly blushing - Ted on the cheek again.

To say that Daphne Warender had been shocked by her daughters admission, would be putting in mildly. However her main concern was the family's public standing. She felt that it was extremely unlikely that anyone of consequence would frequent the sort of establishment her daughter had just described, and therefore it was similarly unlikely they would have witnessed her daughter's indiscretion. Well, she could only hope that they hadn't.

What was worrying Daphne Warender, was the fact that Estelle was talking of marrying a man she had apparently met just a couple of days previous. And with whom - as Daphne Warender understood it - Estelle had been apparently having a non-stop liaison - most probably sexual - ever-since she had met him.

Daphne Warender took a long slow breath.

"Estelle..." she said and then immediately moved her attention to Ted. "I mean you no disrespect, young man." Daphne then moved her eye-line back to her daughter again. "But you've only just met this young man, Estelle. You know nothing about..."

"I've known Teddy since we were at college together, mother!" Stella ranted back. "However I made the mistake of not getting to know Teddy as well as I should have done... when I had the chance! This weekend I have fortuitously corrected that grievous error of judgement"

"Daphne..." Norman Warender had decided that it was about time he entered the fray. "that friend of yours, the Toddhunter-Brown woman. You recall that painting of hers that you admired so much? The one with her on that famous dressage horse of hers."

"I'm sorry Norman, I can't see..." Daphne started to reply.

But Stella - even as surprised as she was to discover she that had an unexpected ally in the room - had instantly understood what her father was attempting to achieve. What's more, Stella instinctively knew that she could do better than her father was planning.

"Teddy, give me your car keys, please?" She asked, loud enough to interrupt her mother's diatribe.

Sensing that he also understood what was happening, Ted, not only handed his keys over, but, after assisting Stella to her feet - not as simple operation as it should have been, in those tight jeans - Ted then followed her out to his car. From the boot of which, he and Stella retrieved two travel wrappers that were protecting the canvases Stella had picked out from the many he'd painted of her over the years: they then carried them back into the house.

As they turned to go back inside Topsy smiled and winked at the net curtained window she knew her father was behind.

Once back in the lounge Stella positioned herself strategically, indicating to her father that he should move closer to his wife. Then Stella carefully unzipped the fastener around the bag and asked. "Would that picture you're referring to father, be similar to this one by any chance?"

Then she let the front cover of the wrapper fall to the floor.

Unfortunately the painting itself was upside down, however Daphne Warender found herself looking at an inverted painting of her own daughter, sitting - side-saddle - upon a horse. A painting so similar that it instantly brought to Daphne's mind the work of art to which her husband had obviously been referring.

"Is that a copy of some kind?" Daphne asked, as Estelle turned the painting that right way up.

"No my dear, it's another very similar work of art by the same extremely talented young artist." Her husband informed Daphne. "It would seem that Lady Toddhunter-Brown knows a skilled artist when she sees one."

Both Norman Warender and Stella were fully aware that Lady Toddhunter-Brown's tacit approval of Ted, would carry far more weight in Daphne Warender's mind, than any words from either of them could ever do. Norman Warender had sat through Lady Toddhunter-Brown's enthusiastic praise of the charming, brilliant and talented artist, Theodore, during numerous dinner parties.

Mind you, anyone comparing the painting they had been referring to, with Lady Toddhunter-Brown herself in the flesh, would be forced to concede that the artist had to possess some kind of genius. There was no mistaking the fact that the painting was quite definitely of Lady Toddhunter-Brown, but a markedly different - slimmer and more amiable looking - Lady Toddhunter-Brown than anyone could recall encountering for very many years.

Daphne Warender studied the painting for several minutes without speaking then ventured, "Are you acquainted socially with Nancy, Mr Harper?"

"Yes, you could say that, Todsie, pops into the studio for a cuppa sometimes. She bought some of my work, before she commissioned me to paint her on her horse." Ted replied with a casual smile.

"Todsie!" Daphne repeated in surprise. She'd heard the nickname mentioned before of course; but very few of Nancy Toddhunter-Brown's closest friends - mainly old school chums , amongst whom the nickname had come into being - were permitted to, or dared to use it, even to refer to the woman.

The expression of consternation that came over Daphne Warender's face caused her husband to smile at his daughter, who replied with a grin and double thumbs-up.

"I'm really not sure what to say..." Daphne Warender uttered, her voice fading until it was almost inaudible as she spoke.

"How about another cup of tea, Daphne; I'm sure Teddy would enjoy another one?" Norman suggested.

"That would be nice Mrs Warender, thank you." Ted replied, instinctively understanding what Norman Warender was attempting to achieve.

Norman Warender was giving his wife the opportunity to retreat somewhere private, where she could recompose herself and maybe return with a new or revived attitude.

Almost without comment, Daphne Warender placed the empty cups back on the tray and retreated to the kitchen again.

"Oh dear you've done it now, Topsy! Your poor mother doesn't know which way to turn." Norman said to Stella after his wife had left the room.

"What do mean, I've done it? You set her up for that one, dad!" Stella replied.

"Yes, but you brought Ted in here and announced you're going to marry him, right out of the blue. You must have known how your mother would... react to that!"

"Well, what else could I do? I love Teddy and he loves me?"

"Taken a little more time over it, and eased your mother into the idea slowly, for a start, Topsy!"

Ted sat, looking from Stella to her father as each spoke, trying to understand what they were arguing about. That was assuming that they were actually arguing; both appeared to have silly grins on their faces.

Then still perplexed he watched as Stella went over to her father, threw her arms around his neck and kissed him. Norman Warender reacted by placing his arms around Stella's waist, clasping his hands together behind her back; he then hoisted her feet from the floor. Taking a couple of paces into the centre of the room, her father energetically twirled Stella around a couple of times while they both laughed like children. Ted, was quite surprised that Stella's feet did not come into contact with any of the expensive looking furniture, and was more than slightly pleased that they missed his face as well. Large as the room was; it wasn't that big!

Strangely (and somewhat surprisingly) Ted felt that could recognise what he was watching; but he failed completely to comprehend it. Ted knew that was watching a proud and happy father, playing with his daughter.

But Ted was also aware that those sort of games between parent and offspring have usually faded to - barely recalled happy - memories by the child's mid-teens. They were classed as unusual behaviour for someone at the present time in Stella and her father's life.

Okay with wife and husband, lover or boyfriend maybe and even possibly with a sibling or parent she hadn't seen for an extended period of time. Ted was well aware that Stella had dined with her parents the previous Wednesday.

If you added-in Stella's... er, recent persona or temperament - the Estelle who had entered the Pig and Whistle just three days before - and her assurance that her father was an officious type (Stella's own description of him, although Ted had seen little of it since the 'commanding stare' he'd received, following that unexpectedly enthusiastic handshake) then the behaviour could only be described as bizarre.

Once her father set Stella back on her feet, she kissed him again, before waddling over to Ted. (It was obvious Ted that those jeans were proving as much a discomfort as Stella had suggested they were.) She kissed Ted on the lips (hard enough to make his toes curl) while at the same relieving him of the second painting he'd been holding.

"Daddy you're not going to believe this picture. I thought it would go well up there over the mantelpiece, instead of that photograph."

Stella unzipped the cover and removed from the painting; which - having first checked that it wasn't inverted - she held up for her father to admire.

Norman Warender stared at the painting for a few seconds, moving closer he put his spectacles on and studied it carefully.

"Ted, my boy," He said, "I knew you were a talented artist... Anyone who could make that Toddhunter-Brown woman look personable... on a horse! Has to have great talent. But you've made me look... well you've taken years off me here, my boy."

While he had been speaking, Norman Warender had been posing himself, as if attempting to duplicate his pose in the painting.

"Ted, did nothing but paint a true image of very handsome man, daddy." Stella commented.

"And very flattering it is too, Topsy, I can assure you. I think I can even understand what you were trying to achieve here Ted. Would a self-portrait have really been pushing it too far do you think?"

"I believe so, yes, Norman." Ted replied.

"Well, it's nice to see you thought me an apt replacement for that numbskull Topsy married. Unfortunately I had little say in that disastrous decision, some people..." Norman Warender threw a quick glance at a sheepish looking Stella. "and her mother assumed too much. His father is none too trustworthy either. I only do business with him, if I've no other choice."

"I know daddy, I was listening to mummy when I should have been listening to the fount of all wisdom! But I'm no longer the fool I used to be, Roger is out of my life forever. Well, he will be very shortly. And I really don't think he's liable to try get smart either. You should have seen his face when he saw that I had Ted with me yesterday, he almost shi..."

"That will do Topsy. I'll have you know that I am well aware of Ted's reputation when he was younger." Norman turned to look at Ted again. "Now Ted, I need to explain something to you. Topsy, go keep your mother otherwise occupied for a while, please."

Stella looked at her father with - what Ted thought - a strange, possibly curious expression, then quietly left to room without comment.

Norman Warender - still grasping the painting of himself and Stella in his hand - sat on the sofa beside Ted and looked him in the eyes.

"Ted, I love my dear wife very much, sometimes a little too much I fear; because love can make one overlook some very serious flaws in a person's personality. I fear that my Daphne was born about a-hundred-and-fifty years too late. Mentally my wife belongs in an era where the estate workers would doff their caps to the lady of the manor as she rode past in her carriage. In my wife's unconscious mind it's she who should be riding in that damned carriage."

"I think I understand what you're saying, Norman."

"Yes well, it's slightly worse than that, Ted. Your obvious talent as an artist and the fact it's been recognised by people whom Daphne looks up to, doesn't mean that my wife... well there's no possible way she'll ever think you are... civilised enough to be Topsy's husband. However I'm sure she will learn to tolerate you, if you can understand that. And it's highly possible that one day she'll even brag about her talented son to her cohorts... when you fit that title, of course. But please don't ever expect that Daphne's going to give you the easy ride, she gave Roger Cooper."

"Norman, Stella made the situation quite clear to me the other day. So you could say I was fully prepared for anything that might happen here this morning, if you understand me. Also I've had contact with many of your wife's... contemporaries over the years."

"Good, just be aware that I'll be keeping out of the firing line for Topsy's sake. I'm strictly neutral, you understand?"

"What I can't understand, Norman, is... well Stella implied that you might..."

Norman Warender laughed.

"Yes, I probably would have been Ted. And you could still find that I can be extremely... unpleasant should the need ever arise. However the Estelle who left this house after dinner last Wednesday evening, is not the same young woman who got out of your car just now. This young woman is more like my Topsy, the child I doted-on as a youngster. Quite a transformation, Ted! How did you do it?"

"To be brutally honest with you, Norman, I haven't got the faintest idea. I do know that the woman I spotted getting drunk in the Pig and Whistle the other night definitely was the Estelle Warender I remembered from our college days. But slowly during the Sunday she somehow morphed into the Stella I'd always wished she had been in my head. I'll admit that I'm just a little concerned that she might suddenly morph back into Estelle again sometime in the near future. You know what they say, a leopard can't change its spots. But then I think I'm ready for that... well, better that she be the bitch in my hands than she is someone else's bitch."

Ted smiled at Norman and winked.

"Teddy the young woman you escorted in here today is the Topsy I remember so vividly as a child. If leopards can't change their spots, then you're... we're safe. Your Stella has morphed back into the person she was before her mother... and puberty, unintentionally screwed with her mind."

At this point Stella and Daphne Warender re-entered the lounge and conversation turned to other things. Important things in Daphne's mind. Like Estelle's divorce from Roger Cooper and how it was going to be kept from the public's eye.

Daphne did enthuse over the painting of Stella and her husband. But from the tone of her comments, Ted picked-up that a painting of Daphne Warender would have to be a diplomatic addition in the very near future. Daphne was both flattered and surprised when Ted invited her to come to his studio and sit for him. Although Ted had to admit to himself that he wasn't looking forward to the project.

Norman and Stella both pictured in their minds, Daphne Warender bragging to her friends that she was having her portrait painted by the same artist who had created Nancy Toddhunter-Brown's favourite work of art.

They somehow doubted that she would tell anyone that her daughter was intending to marry that artist, just yet. They thought that Daphne would wait until after Stella's divorce and then possibly imply that somehow she - or possibly the painting - had been material in bringing the two lovers together.

Ted and Stella managed to extricate themselves from her parents' house before lunch. Although Stella had extreme difficulty getting back into - and out of - Ted's car in those tight jeans. What's more she had difficulty - and required assistance - in getting out of the things back at Ted's studio. The net result of which, was that they didn't leave the upper floor again until the following morning. That's if you discount Ted nipping downstairs to accept delivery of the meals that they ordered and Stella making several cups of coffee.

End of Chapter two.



Shut Up And Drive!



"Oh my, there's even more of your pictures up here. What's in the room on the left?" 

"That's my studio, Stella, and it also doubles as my bedroom; stay out of there, please?"

Estelle had her shower and searched through the rack of clothes she found in the dressing room, eventually coming across something not too revealing. As Brenda had suggested she would, Estelle then tracked down the nurse's make-up case and spent some time trying to create her look. She could hear Ted working down in the kitchen, she assumed cooking them some breakfast.

On leaving the dressing room Estelle stopped to admire the art that covered every inch of wall space. But then she began to wonder what pictures Ted could be currently working on, and also what pictures adorned the walls of his studio.

Taking a quick glance down the stairs to make sure that Ted wasn't down there watching her, Estelle quietly opened the door to his studio and tip-toed inside Ted's inner sanctum. 

The room was far larger than she'd expected; against one wall stood an unmade bed. Alongside it were two easels both with incomplete paintings on them. At the foot of the bed stood a tall freestanding mirror, positioned Estelle imagined so that someone sitting for a portrait would be able to see themselves in it. There was also an odd collection of chairs, Estelle assumed for Ted's subjects to sit upon.

Stacked along the side of the room, their fronts turned towards the wall, were many canvases. Estelle went over and pulled the first stack away from the wall so that she could look through the paintings one after another. Then she looked at the second stack and then the third. But the first picture in that third stack, took Estelle's breath away, and she physically started.

There was no mistaking the fact that the scantily clad subject of the painting was herself. And so were the next and the next.

"I thought I recalled asking you not to come in here?" Ted's voice suddenly said from behind her; making Estelle jump.

"Ted, that's me in this painting!"

"Not exactly Stella. Actually that one is of Brenda, she just has your face!"

"But why?"

"Why what?"

"Does she have my face?"

"Because I happen to like your face Estelle. I've always liked it, didn't you notice that you are in the mural at the college."

"You know, the girls always said that it looked like me in that mural; but it was too high up for me to see properly."

"It is you Estelle. I didn't have my ideal model here, so I used... bodies as Brenda likes to call them, and then I add your face from my imagination. Oh, bodies with similar attributes to your own of course. That's probably why Brenda thought you'd find something that would fit you, on the rack."

"Don't your models get annoyed that you don't paint their faces?"

"Oh, but I do... I use their faces, on most of the work I sell. But every now and then, I like to indulge my fantasies and paint my ideal woman. I never sell any of those paintings by the way; so you shouldn't ever find yourself being embarrassed or recognised from one. Although, I have entered a few in competitions, up in London. You've won me a medal or two over the years actually.

"I'm not a stalker Estelle. Stalkers follow people around and that sort of thing. You know I don't even know where you live! I'm an artist; many years ago I found my ideal subject and I've enjoyed painting her ever since."

"But this is one of me on my wedding day?"

"Ah yes, well, I was there that day; I'll admit that. I took some snaps and painted that one from them."

"You know I think I saw you that day. You kept your crash helmet on, didn't you?"

"Yeah well, I hoped I wasn't being too obvious."

"But this is of me and my father; surely it should have been Roger there outside the church?"

"Artists licence Stella. You surely couldn't expect me, to paint you holding hands with Roger. You looked so beautiful in that dress."

"Ted, were you in love with me?"

"Am I in love with you don't you mean, Stella? And to be honest, I don't know. I love your face... your figure and your hair. But I never did get to know who Estelle actually was!"

"Not a nice person Ted, I can assure you of that. I thought I did, but I'm not sure now that I ever really loved Roger. I'm not sure I even understand what love is! Mind you, I'm sure that Roger never really loved me either. It was a business thing with him; Roger's father did a lot of business with my father, so we were both preferred candidates ass, if you understand me?

"I think maybe it was against my better judgement, that I married him. It worked for a while, but the parents don't do so much business together nowadays and Roger appears to have taken to... well, playing the field a little too often for my liking! That's what I was planning last night, you know; a big scene in the pub. But Roger and his latest floozy didn't show.

"I suppose it's lucky he didn't, in a way; there'd have been repercussions. Divorce can be so... messy." 

"I can't see the point in living with the idiot, if he doesn't love you, and you don't love him, Stella."

"I agree, but if I do divorce him, what will I do? I've never gone out of my way to make myself popular with anyone; you know that! If I throw-out Roger; then I'll have no friends or social life left at all, or very few friends anyway."

"I'd say that they're not your friends to start with then, Stella. Roger's friends more like! Drop that bloody high and mighty act you used to have all the time at college and I'm sure you'll soon find plenty of new friends. Now get that pert backside of yours downstairs and let's eat; I'm starving!"

-

"You are a funny man Ted!" Estelle said as they drank their after breakfast coffees.

"Surely you've got that wrong Stella, disagreeable most people would say. You know I have to sell my paintings from here, because I can't get-on with any of the gallery owners. Too much up their own stuffed shirt arses for my liking, all of them."

"Like, I was back at college, you mean?"

"Yeah well, you could say that! My trouble is, I come from the wrong side of town and I've no patience with the Hooray 'Enries of this world. You always have been something different though, Stella!"

"Yeah, you thought that you loved me, and I never had a clue that you were even interested in me that way; too stuck-up to notice! Ted I just never contemplated it, and that makes me the fool, not you. You know that you always have been just about the most handsome... tearaway, I've ever known.

"Oh, I remember you from our college days all right, and I can recall thinking that you were so good looking back then. But I never even thought to get to know you... or actually I should say, allow you to get to know me; you did try once as I recall. If I had, then maybe life would have been different for both of us."

"In what way?"

"Well, I somehow doubt I'd have married Roger Cooper for a start. And, your paintings would be on sale in all the top galleries in the country."

Ted went to speak, but Estelle quieted him with a wave of her hand.

"I am one of your Hooray Henries, Ted! I know exactly how to handle those buggers. And how argue their commissions down as well. Your paintings are good... better than good, they're bleeding brilliant. Ted, I'm sure that if we'd worked together, you'd be more famous than Hockney by now 

"Hey, don't get carried away kid. I paint what I like to paint and none of this avant-garde or pop rubbish. Anyway, I think we'd better think about getting you home before your husband calls out the National Guard or something."

Disappointed at Ted's reaction to her little speech... suggestion, Estelle had hoped... but she had to agree with Ted. 

In fact she had taken a serious fancy to the notion of sitting for Ted, and maybe helping him sell his work. Not that Ted appeared to be struggling in that direction; quite a few pictures on the house walls had 'sold' stickers on them.

-

"Damn-it Roger's not here and I haven't got my keys; I can't get in!" Estelle exclaimed as Ted pulled up in the street outside her house.

"How do you know?"

"His car is not in the drive Ted; Roger never can be bothered to put it in the garage."

"Perhaps he's out scouring the countryside, looking for you. I know I'd be climbing the ruddy walls if my missus hadn't come home all night. I'll bet he's down the police station reporting you missing!"

"No, knowing Roger like I do, I'd say he's on the seventh or eighth tee by now. Roger always plays a round on Sunday mornings; then he adjourns to nineteenth for a skinful before lunch. He's going to get pulled for drink driving one of these days."

"How can you be so sure?"

"Ted, I know my husband and I doubt he even realised that I hadn't been home all night. Basically because he spent the night with his tart somewhere. He probably arrived home this morning and assumed I'd gone to my mother's house to avoid a scene. Pretty regular for Sundays, around here! Hang on, I'll check."

Ted watched as Estelle, got out of the car, walked over and looked through the garage window. He saw her head nod as she spied whatever she'd been looking for.

"He's out on the course all right; his damned golf trolley is missing. I can't believe that he didn't notice that I'd not been home all night. The newspaper would have been lying on the mat and there was no coffee made or anything; even the dishwasher must still be loaded."

"Perhaps he just never noticed!"

"Ted, he noticed, Roger just doesn't care! Mind you, he'd go apoplectic if he saw me in your car. Roger can get very... protective, of what he considers, his private property. But he doesn't own me, not by a long chalk!"

"How were you intending to get in Stella, if you haven't got your keys with you. Do you want me to...?" 

"My God, no Ted! The house is alarmed; half the county constabulary would be here in minutes. My house keys are in my handbag in the boot of my car."

"And your car?"

"That's parked at a friend's house near to that pub I was in last night. I had to hide it or Roger might have seen it and realised that I was there, waiting for him."

"Okay we'll go get your keys from your car then. But the Doc said that you couldn't drive until tomorrow."

"Great idea but we can't get into my car until later. The girl I left the car keys with, was taking her children out somewhere today. She won't be home until about four."

"Well you can't sit on the bloody doorstep all day, Stella; what are you going to do; your parents house?"

"No thanks Ted; too much explaining to do. I'll leave meeting them until after Roger and I have had this thing out. Either he gives up all his philandering, or he's out of here."

Ted gave Estelle an enquiring glance.

"The house, Ted; it's not communal property. Actually it belongs to an offshore company; but guess whose father is the major share holder."

"So where to then?" Ted smiled back at her.

"How about we head off somewhere nice for lunch?"

"Stella, unlike you I wasn't comatose for most of the night. I got the odd nap in, but I could do with a shower myself and with getting my head down for a little while."

"Fine, we'll go back to your place then, and I'll... well, I'm sure I can find something to keep me occupied. My head still doesn't feel too good anyway!"

Back at his cottage, Estelle began to wander round, perusing his many paintings. So Ted excused himself and headed upstairs to have his shower and then take a short nap.

--

An hour or so later, when he woke, Ted was instantly aware that he was not alone in his studio; he could hear Estelle breathing.

Opening his eyes, Ted saw her sitting cross-legged on the floor, her back towards him. She had moved the long mirror so she could see him in his bed by glancing at it. And she had all his paintings of herself lined-up along the wall; Estelle appeared to be studying them intently.

"I wasn't aware that you had a narcissistic streak, Stella!" Ted commented, surprising her.

Actually as he said it, Ted wasn't quite sure that it was the right thing to say.

"Oh I don't think... Hey, maybe you're right there, Ted! You know maybe that's why I've always been such a bitch."

"I wasn't being serious, Stella!"

"No, I understand that Ted. But there has to be some reason that I was so... narrow minded when I was younger. I had my head stuck so far up my arse that I didn't see... well you remember how I was back then."

"You're perspective has changed as you got older then, has it?"

"Yes, I suppose it has. But I didn't know how much it had changed until this morning. Today I've learnt that I've missed-out on something in life."

"Oh, and exactly what have you missed-out on, Stella?"

But Estelle didn't answer Ted's question.

"Ted, have you any idea, just how flattering it is to see all these wonderful paintings of myself?"

"I've never thought about it Stella. I just enjoy creating the pictures."

"But they are so wonderful; that one of me on the horse... that's Toby from the riding school, isn't it?"

"Yeah, I went up there and took a couple of snaps of him. It's chance, that you recognise him."

"Not chance Ted; I used to ride Toby every week until they had to retire him. Lovely animal, they had to put him down eventually though; too old. I miss Toby! But why the habit, I've never ridden side-saddle in my life?"

"I had a commission to paint a woman who'd won some dressage competition. I liked the picture, but not so much the subject... actually she even made Estelle Partridge appear sociable!"

"Touché!" Estelle, smiled at him.

Ted smiled back at her.

"So I painted the picture again, from a slightly different angle; changing the horse and the rider... oh, and the background."

"In effect you changed just about everything; painted a completely different picture!"

"No, the riding habit is the same. It's the only one I've ever had a good look at. The wearer's proportions are somewhat different though. I'm not quite sure how that animal ever managed to carry that woman!"

"I'll take that as flattery, if I may. Anyway, this picture of me in my wedding dress and the riding one. Are they for sale; how much do you want for them?"

"I haven't sold any of the pictures I've painted of you, Stella?"

"I know, you told me earlier; but how much do you want for these two?"

"I won't sell them to you Stella. If you want them, take them; they are yours. I can always paint another."

"I'd like to pay for them, Ted; like a commission."

"No, they are yours Stella! Any of those pictures of yourself, you may have whenever you want them."

"Thank you I will take those two, if you don't mind. I know exactly where they will hang in my parents' house. They'll replace a couple of photographs that I'm sure my parents will shortly be taking down. But then I'd like to commission you to paint another portrait of myself. One that I hope will show the new me!"

"The new you?"

"Yes, the one that... you, created this morning!"

"You've lost me girl!"

"Never mind, I know what I'm talking about... I think! And you'll understand eventually, I promise!"

"Yeah, anything you say Stella. Hadn't we better go and get your house keys now?"

"Yes we could, after I've taken you somewhere for lunch. I owe you that at least!"

"Stella you've no access to your handbag remember, it's locked in your car!"

"Ted, daft I might be; but I never go anywhere with out my little plastic friend!" There's a little pocket sewn into the cocktail dress I was wearing last evening."

"Ooh, cocktail dress!"

"Don't mock me please Ted, I was trying to... well remind Roger exactly what he could loose. See, I just said it, I can be really daft sometimes; I wouldn't give two pins for Roger anymore. Anyway if you can get your backside in gear... is that right?"

"Your arse, Stella!"

"Okay, right. If you can get your arse in gear, Ted; I'll take you out for a real slap-up roast somewhere. It is Sunday after-all."

"I'll need to get dressed Stella."

"That's fine, I can look the other way."

"Stella, you're looking in the bleeding mirror!"

So what's your problem, you're not shy are you? You can't shock me Ted; I doubt you've got anything Roger hasn't got!"

Exasperated and slightly tired of minding his manners around Estelle, Ted climbed out of bed.

"Ted, maybe I got that a little wrong!"

"Sorry?" Ted replied, struggling into his jeans.

"The girls at college... they always said that it was a rolled-up sock!"

"I have no idea what you're talking about, Stella."

"Never mind, Ted. It's not important; I don't think. If it is, I'll worry about it later!"

"You're babbling worse than you were last night Stella; come on let's get moving before the pubs shut!" 

--

They enjoyed a meal together - that Ted insisted on paying for - then they took a short walk along by the river, before retrieving Estelle's handbag from the boot of her car. Ted did not get out of his vehicle at Estelle's friend's place and neither did she go inside the house. But he thought Estelle was an inordinately long time standing at the door talking with her friend.

When his ears began to feel warm, Ted looked across and Estelle's friend - who Ted vaguely recalled from his college days - waved at him. Feeling a little embarrassed, Ted meekly waved back at her. But eventually Estelle retrieved her handbag from her Jaguar's boot and climbed back into the passenger seat.

"That took longer than I expected." Ted commented.

"Yeah sorry; we had a lot to talk about."

"You did, but you must have seen her yesterday."

"Yeah socks, and I had to tell Marie about last night... what I can remember of it, and this morning!"

"What's this preoccupation with socks?"

"Nothing important, Ted, I told you! Humour me please, and don't ask again. Just assume that I've gone a little scatty; that's what Marie thinks I've done anyway."

Ted glanced across at Estelle and noticed that she'd gone very red in the face. He realised that she was obviously embarrassed about something.

He also noticed that Estelle became very quiet and more and more agitated as they approached her house. Exactly why he wasn't sure, but he assumed she was preparing herself for a confrontation with her husband.

Ted wondered which argument was going to take precedence, Estelle challenging her husband about his girlfriend, or Roger Cooper flying of the hook about Estelle being out all night; surely he must have worked that out by now. And then of course, there was the fact that a strange man was driving her home; but then again, if he could get away a bit sharpish, Estelle's husband might think she'd come home in a taxi.

Not that Ted wanted too disappear in a hurry; there was this uncontrollable instinct he had to protect this woman. He couldn't explain it, it was just an urge that he'd had since he'd first laid eyes on her many years before.

As he pulled his car to the curb outside Estelle's house, Ted saw the front door open and Roger Cooper appeared in the doorway.

"Well, here goes; wish me luck!"

"There's no luck involved Stella, I'm sure you're a mental match for Roger; or most men, if it comes to that!"

"Cheers, but don't go yet... please?"

"Your request is my command milady. If Roger looses control of himself physically, I'll make sure that you come to no harm. The chucking insults at each other, I'll leave to you two though; it's really none of my business."

Ted couldn't get his head around the smile that came over Estelle's face as he spoke.

When he looked back at the house again, Ted noticed that Roger Copper was by then sporting a large golf wood in his right hand.

"Ah! That type! The buggers going to come after you Teddy my boy; better prepare yourself!" He thought to himself as he slipped off his seatbelt, and released the catch on the door. Ted would prefer that his car didn't get damaged; so if it became necessary, he'd meet Roger Cooper well before he got too close to the vehicle.




Shut Up And Drive!



However as soon as Estelle had got out of the car, a slanging match had begun between the pair of them.

As is common in those situations, working out or recalling exactly who yelled what at whom and in what order, is quite difficult.

Roger Cooper had opened the engagement with, "Where have you effing-well been and who's that arsehole?" Followed almost instantly by Estelle retaliating with, "Why should you care; you've been out with your latest tart all night!"

Ted didn't follow the argument after that; he was far too busy studying Roger Cooper's body language. Ted was well aware that it would take him far longer to exit the vehicle and place himself between Estelle and Roger Cooper, than it would for Roger to reach her. So Ted was trying to gauge the right instant to make his presence felt.

And yet for some inexplicable reason he didn't wish to provoke Roger Cooper. After-all, Estelle was the man's wife! But Ted didn't think that he'd done anything that he should feel ashamed about. His actions during the previous twenty-four hours could not be described by anyone, other than being chivalrous and showing utter respect for Roger and Estelle's marital status.

Although Ted did admit to himself, that he had been sorely tempted.

After the confrontation had gone on for some minutes. And drawn an appreciative audience of curious neighbours away from dozing in front of their television sets; Ted recognised that Roger Cooper was about to make a move of some kind.

But Cooper didn't move towards Estelle; instead, Roger set-off, taking a shortcut across the lawn towards Ted's car.

Ted had rolled out of his seat and rounded the rear of his vehicle, before Roger Cooper had covered half the distance. On recognising that it was Ted Harper standing before him, Roger Cooper suddenly appear to change him mind; he'd decided that the better part of valour is discretion, and that had stopped him dead in his tracks.

"What's your game Harper; who gave you the right to screw my wife?" Roger Cooper said raising his golf club in the hope that it might deter Ted from doing what Ted Harper had been... infamous for as a teenager, and to give himself a little added confidence.

"Hey, dumb-nuts!" Ted shouted back. "Why is it that the arseholes of this world, always assume that everyone else must think and behave as they do? I haven't touched your lady; I just ain't made that way. Unlike you, I respect the institution of marriage!"

"What are you talking about, I didn't spend the night with another man's wife?" Cooper challenged.

"No! You spent the night making whoopee with the village bike, Cooper! Christ, I've seen you the two you together in the pub enough times. I never recognised you, or put two and two together though. You do know that that tart's the biggest slag in town, don't you?

"Jesus, she was famous for letting any numpty shag her on the top deck of the bus home from college. She's been married three times you know? I think all of her husbands ditched her when they found their wife in bed with another man, or discovered that they'd caught something nasty. Perhaps you'd better get yourself checked out, Roger me-lad!

"Hey Stella, did you catch that? If you and your ever loving husband here, have had... relations of late? I'd get yourself checked out, as well!"

"Yeah, but I don't think that will be necessary Ted. Roger there hasn't felt up to it... with me anyway, for some time now!"

"Better safe, than sorry girl! But Roger, it's not something that I even need to worry about. I'm assuming here, that your little brain is capable of understanding what I just said to you? Never-mind, your neighbours understand, I can see that; Estelle's reputation is what matters to me!"

As Ted had been speaking, Roger Cooper had been back-pedalling for all he was worth. He was still trying to subtly back away from Ted - who had not moved from the rear of his car - when Cooper tripped-over backwards, up the front step of the house. Roger Cooper's new predicament was greeted by poorly muffled laughter from several of the on-looking neighbours. 

"Estelle, get into the house, we'll continue this discussion in private!" Roger ordered as he struggled back to his feet.

"I don't think so Roger; I've had my fill of you and your incessant philandering. If I've told you once, I've told you a hundred times; once more and that's it, we're through! Well, last night was the last time you'll cheat on our marriage Roger Cooper. It's over Roger; I'm out of here! Come on Ted, let's go?" 

Estelle had begun to stride towards Ted's car as she spoke. But then she stopped and added, "No, hold up a minute, Ted!"

Estelle spun on her heel and looked back at her soon to be ex-husband. The slanging match was not quite over.

"Roger that's my damned house, you will get yourself and all of your crap out of it by lunchtime tomorrow. And don't try to get clever and strip the place, or the joint bank accounts, Roger. With all the playing-away you've been doing over the years, I've got enough on you to take you to the cleaners in the divorce court!"

"Hey, I'm not surprised that you never managed to shag her, Harper; the bitch is bleeding frigid!" Roger Cooper yelled out. Ted thought more for the neighbours consumption, than his own. "You hear that? That's how-come we've never had any kids, and the reason why I had to look elsewhere for some satisfaction!"

Then Roger Cooper slammed the door, effectively bringing an end to the pantomime.

Ted watched, with an inexplicable satisfied feeling in his heart, as Estelle climbed back into his car. Then he looked around the audience and giving them a polite wave as he did so. Ted figured that at least a few of them were aware of his past, and those who weren't, would know all about him in a day or so.

As Ted climbed into the driver's seat, Estelle was already talking on her mobile telephone.

"... separated dad! I've left Roger, so you'll have to get Mr Goldman to organise getting him out of the house. I've told Roger to go by tomorrow lunchtime, but you know what he can be like!" - "No dad, I'm fine. I've got an old friend looking after me at present." - "Yeah, Love to mother; see you soonest!" then disconnecting the call Estelle looked across at Ted.

"Where to; your parents place?" Ted asked.

"No, I figure we go back to your artist's garret, and you could make a start on my portrait if you like. Hey, maybe even a nude portrait!"

"Stella, that's not a very ladylike thing for you to say, and I really don't think..."

"Ted, I'm tired of playing the lady. Just shut-up and drive... Please? There, I've asked you very nicely, haven't I? And don't panic, I'm clear of STD's; I had myself checked-out after Roger's last little escapade. A positive result would have simplified the divorce immensely. And Roger hasn't... shared my bed, since I was declared clean."

"Roger hasn't? Oh my, how the other half live! But if he hasn't Stella...?"

"Don't worry, you'll be the first Teddy... and if I get my way you'll be the last as well. How many children would you like?"

"Kids! Hey look Stella..."

"Don't panic Teddy, I'm pulling your leg. And offering you the chance to do what your hormones wanted you to do when we were back in college. And... well, maybe you'll even enjoy the experience. I get the feeling that I will! And I might get the chance to keep you; especially if I end up preggers." 

"But if good old Roger couldn't get you pregnant in eight years, Stella; you have to wonder whether there is some kind of problem."

"Oh, but there was, Ted. A very small problem; the little pill I took every morning. I went on them before we were first married because a child would have been inconvenient to both of us at the time. But then, I never did get around to coming off of the bloody things. Mainly because I realised that Roger would make an abysmal parent, and an untrustworthy father.

"You, on the other hand! Well, I can just picture you with a couple of sprogs in your arms?"

"But, am I trustworthy Stella; you don't really know me?"

"Teddy, last evening you had me at your mercy. You had someone you've lusted after for years in your grasp..."

"Lusted after?" Ted interrupted.

"I've seen those pictures you painted of me, Ted. You've been lusting after my body for years and don't you try to deny the fact!

"Anyway, as I was saying; you finally had me at your mercy, and what did you do? You took me to A and E, and then sat by my bed all-night when you could have been shagging the living daylights out of me."

"I can't say I've ever tried it, but a doubt there's much enjoyment to be gained from shagging a comatose female, Stella!" 

"Well, I won't be comatose tonight Ted, lets see if we both match up to expectations. After all, Roger's out of the picture now, if only unofficially."

--

After a hesitant start the night went well for both participants. So much so, that they were in no hurry to get out of bed the next morning, and instead went for round two, followed - after a short recuperative rest - by round three. Then they showered together; Ted admitting to Estelle that it wasn't the first occasion that cubicle had held two bodies at the same time.

Stella replied that she wasn't at all surprised to hear that; but she was surprised that none of Ted's bodies had managed to stake a permanent claim on him.

"Oh, and Ted?" Stella said as they were getting dressed.

"Yes?"

"Your euphemistically termed bodies. I'd prefer it if they're just sitters or models, from now on; are you all right with that?"

"Fine girl, I'll insist that the studio door is always left open in future, if you'd like?"

"No, that won't be necessary, besides some of your... models, might find it embarrassing; I trust you implicitly Teddy. Oh, but I think, if you don't mind, I might ask the girls to call you Ted or Edward in future; Teddy has a familiarity about it that I failed to recognise when Brenda used it yesterday. Lets go have some breakfast and them we can..."

"Go and see your solicitor, I'd suggest, Stella!" Ted interrupted, "Or Roger is going to beat you to it."

"There's little chance of that happening, Ted. I had a couple of meetings with Mr Goldman last week; he has my power of attorney in matters of my soon to be defunct marriage.

"Well, I wasn't quite sure how I was going to react on Saturday evening. Roger and I had had so many arguments over his extramarital activities and he'd promised so many times to behave himself, that I feared... catching him in the act, so to speak, that I might end up in a police cell. That's one reason that I never took my handbag with me; it's heavy, I habitually cart a lot of junk around with me in the damned thing. I'm sure it could do someone a nasty injury.

"What I do have to do today is go and see my parents. My father was more than a little curious about just whom Ted Harper is, and if he starts asking around before he actually meets you... Well, there's little point in getting off on the wrong foot is there?

"By the way, exactly what did happen with you and your motorcycle at the college? It surely couldn't have been as bad as the rumours suggested, or they'd have chucked you out!"

"Oh that, it was just a mix-up. I rode it through the front entrance, up the main staircase and into the theatre?"

"Why?"

"Well, that's where the drama group needed it. They were putting on some production, for five days and had had borrowed my motorcycle as a prop. I needed to use it during the day, when it wasn't on stage though. But then on the final evening, that damned service lift broke down.

"The bike was a little heavy to carry up all those stairs, so I rode the bugger big staircase along the corridor and right up onto the stage. I can't say that all of the college's faculty were impressed or best pleased with my ingenuity though. 

"But their were certain members of the staff who didn't want to expel me; I think maybe my talent had been well recognised by then. And well, they had that dirty great blank wall in the main foyer, so my punishment was to paint that mural; out of usual college hours of course. A sort of extended detention you might call it. And it kept me from getting into too much trouble with the boys for a while.

"It did mean that not many folks, outside my own little clique, saw me painting that masterpiece though; you know on weekends and during the college holidays. 

"And then quite unexpectedly from my perspective the story about me riding the bike around inside the college buildings... well, it kind of took on a life of it's own. And I can't say my sudden notoriety as a bad boy did me any harm as far as... well as far most of the girls were concerned. Although some people did seem to hold it against me!"

"Damn, touché again! I should not have been such a bitch back then; then you wouldn't be able to keep doing that to me."

"Don't let it worry you kiddo, let's go eat and then we'll go see your father, that should be fun!"

"It's my mother you need to worry about Ted, she's the... Oh bugger, she's even more up-her-arse than I was!" 

"Was?"

"Quite definitely, WAS, Teddy. Now that I've found you, I'm not going to give you an excuse to get away, or reason to want to!"

"I'm not sure whether I should be pleased or worried about that, Stella." Ted replied with a smile.

"Definitely worried Teddy my boy! There's only one reason I can think of for you being in that particular public house the other night, and I'm sure that it had nothing to do with saving damsels in distress. Well, they'll be no more of that malarkey when we're married, you know!"

"Oh, I get a bye until you're divorced and we can hitched then, do I?"

Stella looked across at the new man in her life, and just for a moment wondered whether she'd bitten off more than she could chew. But that cheeky smile he was giving her reassured her that she'd finally stumbled across the right man for her.

"Ted, do you ever take anything seriously?"

"Not much Stella. Unless of course, it's one particular damsel in distress. Generally I just let the world do it's own thing and stand on the sidelines and watch. Providing there's enough readies in the bank to cover my immediate needs."

"Well, you must do alright, Ted; this place isn't very big, but it must have cost a fortune."

"It's my parents old place, Stella. I grew up here when the land around it was a my father's smallholding. Then a few years ago my dad secured planning permission for those little boxes all around and then sold the land off to a developer.

"He and mother did alright; they live on Cyprus now, soaking up the sun. And I got this place to call my own. I've chopped it about a bit as you can see; to give me room to work and sell my pictures."

"Well, I still think you should let me pay for those two pictures of, Ted."

"Hey look kiddo, if you don't change your mind and chicken out on me; they'll all be yours anyway in a... shit, how long do divorces take?"

Stella threw her arms around Ted's neck and kissed him again.

"Too long for either of us to wait I should imagine; we'll have to live in sin for a while. Now lets go and see what mummy and daddy make of you. Should be real fun. Oh, a heads-up it was my mother who thought that the sun shone out of Roger's nether regions. And by the way, where I picked-up my... well, I listened to my mothers views on class a little too much when I was younger. My dad can come-over all-officious as well, but that's all an act really; I think to designed to keep my mother happy."

"Hey Stella, what am I letting myself in for?" Ted asked, beginning at last to realise the implications for his future.

Still with her arms entwined firmly around Ted's neck. Estella moved her a head little further away from Ted's and looked directly into his eyes. Ready to spot the first hint of doubt in his mind.

"I'm sorry Teddy, but from your perspective... probably the mother from hell!" She replied and then quickly added. "But it's me you'll be marrying, not my mother!"

"Oh, so I won't feel left-out when the boys down the pub start moaning about their personal dragons then, will I?" He replied with a grin.



Life goes on