Nineteen
Henri knew that first impressions are important, and he was very aware that he wasn’t making one. They had taken the coastal route up to Nelson, stopping off at some friends overnight. By the time they got there they were both covered with the dust and the sweat of their journey. Isla’s parents were prepared to forgive this of their daughter but were not so understanding of the dishevelled boyfriend who stood for the first time in front of them. Henri was surprised to find he actually cared what they thought.
“Please call me Marion” Henri shook her hand, a middle aged suburban hausfrau right down to her pink toenails poking out of her unfashionable sandals. She wore a large summer dress which bore the pattern of inter crossing fern fronds.
Isla’s father shook his hand, a serious dark haired man with a pleasant face that wore a fixed smile that didn’t match his eyes. “Good to meet you at last, exactly how long have you two been going out together?”
“Dad, please” interjected Isla
‘Call me Mr Shaw’ thought Henri glumly.
Isla’s mother broke in to stop her overprotective father with the suggestion that everyone could do with a long cool drink. As they walked out into the garden with its potted blood red geraniums, Henri stared carefully at the hedge separating this garden from the one next door. He desperately searched for a chink through which he might glimpse that rarest of flowers, a naked neighbour. But Marion’s shrubbery shield was thorough and there was no chink in her armour. She waited until they were all comfortable before breaching the topic that had been hanging in the sultry air since Isla and Henri had arrived.
“Tell me about your protest”
Isla took a deep breath and began.
“Well, I have to say it was the most nerve wracking and exciting thing I have ever done at the same time. We went down to the mall and walked straight to the middle and … I was so nervous I can tell you, but there was no going back. Susie gave the signal and we whipped off our dresses. You could have heard a pin drop, then some woman gasped, so we started our chant. ‘Air con con, air con non, no clothes on before air con on’
Isla caught a glimpse of her mother’s face “It’s cheesy I know, but we couldn’t think of anything else. Anyway it was so good; being naked in the shopping mall you should try it some time”
Henri thought that this was an odd thing for Isla to say to her parents. He looked at them both, her mother serene and her father ready to gnaw his own head off.
“And then the security guards came, and Cat just stood in front of them hands on hips with her breasts jutting out and just dared them, ‘touch me and that’s indecent assault’ They backed off and decided it was more important to control the crowd. Most were really supportive, there was the odd pervert, and of course some young guys who had never seen a naked woman in the flesh before. You could tell by the way their tongue was hanging out.”
Henri also remembered the day well; there was utter chaos as the four young women strolled, with no shame, through the shopping mall. Some people tired not to notice, most sneaked glances while a few honest souls openly stared. Then there young men with their phones, snapping away sending them to their mates. “Come on darling, spread ‘em for me” That was unpleasant but they cheered up the security guards who could vent their pent up frustration by forcibly ejecting them. Susie was the magnet, but she didn’t care because the cause meant more to her than her exposed body. After all it was exposure they craved, as they strolled through the cool marble halls, breasts bouncing, firm buttocks quivering with each footstep. The bonanza they were waiting for, a TV crew, never came, the police beat them to it. Cat and Susie came to a sudden halt before two burly policemen, accompanied by two petite policewomen. By the look on their faces the policewomen would have no qualms with physically arresting some naked female students.
The policeman asked them why they were naked. He winced as Susie stood before him, hands on hips, legs apart and gave him the green broadside.
“If you don’t get dressed now” he told them all firmly, “you will be arrested”
They had discussed this and were all agreed the cause would serve little if they were taken into custody. So all four girls capitulated politely, took their dresses from the accompanying boys and allowed themselves to be escorted form the mall to the impatiently waiting press pack outside.
After half an hour of interviews they caught a bus to the other side of the city, and following a leisurely lunch in the park, went out and did it all over again.
“So you never got in trouble with the police” commented Brian offering grateful thanks to whatever gods may be.
“Henri nearly did” giggled Isla
“I thought it was a girls only protest?” asked her mother with a little concern.
“It was, but in the Freeglade Mall there was this pervy guy, he kept calling to me. ‘Jus rub your tits darling, go on spread them and ugh, some really disgusting stuff, so Henri grabbed his camera off him and smashed it into his face”
“Well done” said Biran, turning to Henri for the first time since he greeted him at the door, “did you do any damage”
“Not really, those cameras are quite robust” Henri replied with some regret.
“I wasn’t referring to the camera” Brain replied through gritted teeth
“Oh I see,” Henri grinned, “just a broken nose and a split lip that needed six stitches”
Brian smiled, “Care for another beer Henri”
“Oh yes please Mr Shaw”
“Call me Brian,”
Saturday, 17 April 2010
seventeen
Eighteen
A warm, golden summer’s afternoon. Belvoir Avenue shimmered in the hot air that rose in great swirling currents from the tarmac made soft by the unendurable heat. Henri took in the street, wide and tree lined and well kept, the epitome of middle class suburbia, from the well trimmed hedges to the blooming rose bushes which filled the air with a heady scent. Isla saw different things, this was her home, and she saw the changes. New windows in the Smythes, the council had cut down the old tree opposite the mad woman’s house, and whoever had moved into to her friend Charlotte’s old home had put up stone gates topped with lions that screamed of bad taste.
“Ouch” complained Isla as a ball hit here ankle. She turned to face two small boys
“Sorry” said the younger of the pair.
“I’ve seen you tits” the elder told her, “my dad’s got a picture of you with no clothes on”
‘I bet your mother doesn’t know that’ thought Isla.
“And did you like what you saw Arty?” she asked him. Arty screwed hid face into a scowl.
“Leave Isla alone” pleaded the other boy. Arty kicked him in the shin.
“Shut up Timmy, we shouldn’t even be talking to her; my mum says you’re a slut”
Henri, who had played Lancelot to Isla’s Guinevere with burly security guards and testosterone charged teenagers, was not prepared to let this go any further. Arty had been indulged by his parents and had assumed in his usual arrogance that nobody would dare touch him. He was suddenly surprised to find his feet were no longer on the ground. Slowly Henri pulled him up to his eye level. He then explained very carefully that he was Isla’s boyfriend and should he bother her again he would tell his mother exactly what Arty had said to her. And then he told the terrified boy he’d tell her that her son had a collection of photographs of naked women on their computer. Small bullies always recognise large bullies, and Arty realised he was in the presence of a master. He gave a small gulp followed by a gasp as Henri released him and let Isaac Newton finish the job. Picking himself off the hot soft tarmac he ran home, barely managing to hide his tears.
Despite the loss of his leader the small boy held his ground “My Mum says you’re a hero!” he told Isla
“Why thank you Timmy.” She smiled graciously “How have you been? Come and meet Henri, he won’t bite”
Henri bent down and solemnly shook the small boy’s hand “Pleased to meet you Tim, where do you live”
“We live next door to Isla and my Mum thinks she’s great”
“She supports the cause too, has she been writing to the council?”
“Dunno about that, but she walks around with no clothes on”
“What!”
Timmy looked desperately at Isla, “Really. I’ve seen her” he said trying to convince her, “when she thinks nobody is looking she walks around the house and round the garden, and” he dropped his voice to a whisper “even down the lane”
Henri was astonished, this looked so much like an ordinary street, the sort of place you found everywhere with normal people doing all the same normal boring things; shopping, visiting the cinema, watching the same detective stories. Cereal for breakfast, salad for lunch, the occasional curry for a taste of the exotic. Not the place where women ran around naked in public.
Isla, who knew Linda well, was wondering if her mother had got to her.
“You won’t tell anybody, will you?” pleaded Timmy. Isla promised him his secret was safe with her. “Thanks” he called as he ran up the path, the front door closed with a bang. Henri stared at the house with its flowered garden and well trimmed hedges and a line form a half forgotten song came drifted into his head.
‘There’s an ol’ piano, and they play it hot. Behind the green door. Wish they'd let me in. So I could find out what's behind the green door’
A warm, golden summer’s afternoon. Belvoir Avenue shimmered in the hot air that rose in great swirling currents from the tarmac made soft by the unendurable heat. Henri took in the street, wide and tree lined and well kept, the epitome of middle class suburbia, from the well trimmed hedges to the blooming rose bushes which filled the air with a heady scent. Isla saw different things, this was her home, and she saw the changes. New windows in the Smythes, the council had cut down the old tree opposite the mad woman’s house, and whoever had moved into to her friend Charlotte’s old home had put up stone gates topped with lions that screamed of bad taste.
“Ouch” complained Isla as a ball hit here ankle. She turned to face two small boys
“Sorry” said the younger of the pair.
“I’ve seen you tits” the elder told her, “my dad’s got a picture of you with no clothes on”
‘I bet your mother doesn’t know that’ thought Isla.
“And did you like what you saw Arty?” she asked him. Arty screwed hid face into a scowl.
“Leave Isla alone” pleaded the other boy. Arty kicked him in the shin.
“Shut up Timmy, we shouldn’t even be talking to her; my mum says you’re a slut”
Henri, who had played Lancelot to Isla’s Guinevere with burly security guards and testosterone charged teenagers, was not prepared to let this go any further. Arty had been indulged by his parents and had assumed in his usual arrogance that nobody would dare touch him. He was suddenly surprised to find his feet were no longer on the ground. Slowly Henri pulled him up to his eye level. He then explained very carefully that he was Isla’s boyfriend and should he bother her again he would tell his mother exactly what Arty had said to her. And then he told the terrified boy he’d tell her that her son had a collection of photographs of naked women on their computer. Small bullies always recognise large bullies, and Arty realised he was in the presence of a master. He gave a small gulp followed by a gasp as Henri released him and let Isaac Newton finish the job. Picking himself off the hot soft tarmac he ran home, barely managing to hide his tears.
Despite the loss of his leader the small boy held his ground “My Mum says you’re a hero!” he told Isla
“Why thank you Timmy.” She smiled graciously “How have you been? Come and meet Henri, he won’t bite”
Henri bent down and solemnly shook the small boy’s hand “Pleased to meet you Tim, where do you live”
“We live next door to Isla and my Mum thinks she’s great”
“She supports the cause too, has she been writing to the council?”
“Dunno about that, but she walks around with no clothes on”
“What!”
Timmy looked desperately at Isla, “Really. I’ve seen her” he said trying to convince her, “when she thinks nobody is looking she walks around the house and round the garden, and” he dropped his voice to a whisper “even down the lane”
Henri was astonished, this looked so much like an ordinary street, the sort of place you found everywhere with normal people doing all the same normal boring things; shopping, visiting the cinema, watching the same detective stories. Cereal for breakfast, salad for lunch, the occasional curry for a taste of the exotic. Not the place where women ran around naked in public.
Isla, who knew Linda well, was wondering if her mother had got to her.
“You won’t tell anybody, will you?” pleaded Timmy. Isla promised him his secret was safe with her. “Thanks” he called as he ran up the path, the front door closed with a bang. Henri stared at the house with its flowered garden and well trimmed hedges and a line form a half forgotten song came drifted into his head.
‘There’s an ol’ piano, and they play it hot. Behind the green door. Wish they'd let me in. So I could find out what's behind the green door’
sixteen
Seventeen
Isla’s protests were short lived. Soon every security guard in the country had her photograph in his pocket along with strict instructions not to let her in. But that couldn’t stop the campaign against air conditioning; it spread like a wildfire across a parched prairie, as others took up the cause and ran naked with it. The shops and malls responded quickly by robustly caving into the protestors. It wasn’t much of a contest as it was in the complexes owners’ interests to turn off their expensive air conditioning. This allowed them to save large amounts of money whilst giving the outward appearance of caring for the environment. They almost fell over each other in the rush to turn off the fans. The only cloud in this clear blue sky was the faint possibility that some people out there would take the slogan; I’d rather have nothing on than have air con on, literally and turn up in the nude. They crossed their fingers, knocked on wood and hoped for rain.
Flushed with success the University of Canterbury Greensoc had one last, all naked, picnic in the summer countryside before scattering for the long summer break. Cat and Julie went hiking while Susie continued to promote the cause. She was everything that the media could have asked for, articulate, intelligent, persuasive and happy to take her clothes off. The camera loved her, clothed and unclothed. She steamed off into the limelight leaving Isla drifting miserably in the quiet backwaters.
“I think I’ll go back and see my folks” she announced to Henri as they sat quietly in the corner of a crowded beer garden. She paused and hesitated before continuing. “You wouldn’t like to come with me would you?”
To Isla’s surprise, and Henri’s utter astonishment he agreed.
“Isla’s coming home tomorrow” Marion announced to her husband, “and she’s bringing her boyfriend” That got Brian’s attention. They had both speculated about their daughter’s love life for some time; and, despite her robust denials, had long suspected Henri’s existence. “Get the loft room ready, Marion” was Brian’s reply. He didn’t care what they got up to at University, but it wasn’t happening under his roof.
“Shall I prime the tank trap dear?” enquired Marion
“Don’t be facetious” Brian continued at his most pompous, “and you can keep your clothes on for the duration of their stay”
“Aye, aye, capn” replied his naked wife giving him a mock salute. Brian watched her bare buttocks quiver as she strode out of the room to prepare the nest for the return of their wandering chick.
Marion sighed to herself as she cleaned the old attic bedroom. This time tomorrow she would be locked up in her prison clothes. She knew deep down that Brian was right, Isla’s boyfriend was an unknown quantity and it was probably for the best that his first memory of his future mother-in-law wasn’t of her naked. She interrupted her train of thought. What was she thinking of, she hadn’t even met the boy, and here she was marrying Isla off.
Brian was thinking quite the opposite, this boy was just a passing fancy, Isla would soon come to her senses and drop him for a nice quiet, sensible, medical student. He rather wished that Isla wasn’t bringing him at all. The only good thing he could think about Henri’s visit would be it would stop Marion pestering him to take his clothes off. The thought of nudity set his mind going again, worrying away, and gnawing away at the thought of his daughter’s protests and, worse still, that one mad night in the wood. Again and again he went over it in his mind, could they have been seen? It was a question he would never know the answer to, but that didn’t stop him tormenting himself.
Conversely Marion was worrying about having to wear clothes. She was smoothing the sheets on the bed as she pondered her predicament. Isla and the boyfriend wouldn’t be there all the time, so she could go nude when they were out, just keep something handy if they came back unexpectedly; and she could rely on Isla to call ahead just to give the time to dress. It would be like old times she thought warmly as she stared down at the garden from the dormer in the roof. All those months, she had sat naked in the house, listening for Brian’s return and scurrying to get dressed at the first throaty sound of the car’s engine in the drive. Unconsciously she scanned the shrubbery mapping out the hidden path to the gate. She suddenly realised what she had been doing and smiled, perhaps she could take a walk. ‘Oh yes’ she thought brightening up, her pulse quickening at the thought of the danger involved. She might even arrange to meet Linda in the lane. She warmed at the thrill of it, roaming naked, with the unsettling danger of being caught. Cheered tremendously by these thoughts she returned to the lounge where Brian was watching television.
“You’re still dressed” she scolded, “This will be our last chance for a few days to spend time together naked”
“It’s too cold” he complained
“Nonsense it’s the middle of summer, it’s far too hot for clothes. I fancy I don’t know how I will get through tomorrow…….”
Brian recognised a threat when he heard one; although he was beginning to feel there was not as much substance behind them as he once feared. As far as he was aware the only people who had seen Marion naked were Brian himself, their daughter and their neighbour Linda. The stricken man suddenly came to mind. This burst Brain’s pretty party balloon. Anyone who was prepared to walk the streets stark naked and not pass by on the other side when they meet a helpless soul would have no qualms about baring all in front of their daughter’s boyfriend. Suddenly sober, Brian quickly stood up and stripped.
Marion smiled as she contemplated the mound of bare flesh on the settee that was the spoils of her victory.
“I do think it’s a little mean putting Henri away in the attic.”
“I know I can’t control what they do in university Marion, but while they are under my roof there will be no shenanigans”
“You won’t be here al the time”
Marion paused while Brian ruminated on this,
“People do have sex in the day you know”
Brian was at his most haughty “I do hope Isla and her boyfriend will not abuse our hospitality”
“They could do it outside”
Brian shot a look at Marion, but she was staring out of the window, idly playing with he left nipple. He watched as she gave it a little squeeze. “There’s a place in the wood” she continued as she rolled her hand over her breast. Brian felt an unwanted stirring between his legs
“Do you remember the place” Marion’s voice was low and husky now. He certainly did, and so did his penis. “There’s nothing to stop them going there, after all it is so arousing, sex al fresco, don’t you think”
Brian didn’t have to think, his libido was doing all that for him. In desperation he crossed his legs and tried to stare at the picture of a stormy seashore hanging above the stone mantelpiece. It was no use, as if by magnetism his eyes were drawn towards his wife’s naked body and her left hand which was slowly, idly, and apparently unconsciously caressing her right breast. Suddenly, like a seal coming up for air, his perfidious penis burst free and poked its head out from between his legs,. Marion let go of her nipple and smiled, “There you are, I knew you remembered” Brain wasn’t sure she was talking to him.
Isla’s protests were short lived. Soon every security guard in the country had her photograph in his pocket along with strict instructions not to let her in. But that couldn’t stop the campaign against air conditioning; it spread like a wildfire across a parched prairie, as others took up the cause and ran naked with it. The shops and malls responded quickly by robustly caving into the protestors. It wasn’t much of a contest as it was in the complexes owners’ interests to turn off their expensive air conditioning. This allowed them to save large amounts of money whilst giving the outward appearance of caring for the environment. They almost fell over each other in the rush to turn off the fans. The only cloud in this clear blue sky was the faint possibility that some people out there would take the slogan; I’d rather have nothing on than have air con on, literally and turn up in the nude. They crossed their fingers, knocked on wood and hoped for rain.
Flushed with success the University of Canterbury Greensoc had one last, all naked, picnic in the summer countryside before scattering for the long summer break. Cat and Julie went hiking while Susie continued to promote the cause. She was everything that the media could have asked for, articulate, intelligent, persuasive and happy to take her clothes off. The camera loved her, clothed and unclothed. She steamed off into the limelight leaving Isla drifting miserably in the quiet backwaters.
“I think I’ll go back and see my folks” she announced to Henri as they sat quietly in the corner of a crowded beer garden. She paused and hesitated before continuing. “You wouldn’t like to come with me would you?”
To Isla’s surprise, and Henri’s utter astonishment he agreed.
“Isla’s coming home tomorrow” Marion announced to her husband, “and she’s bringing her boyfriend” That got Brian’s attention. They had both speculated about their daughter’s love life for some time; and, despite her robust denials, had long suspected Henri’s existence. “Get the loft room ready, Marion” was Brian’s reply. He didn’t care what they got up to at University, but it wasn’t happening under his roof.
“Shall I prime the tank trap dear?” enquired Marion
“Don’t be facetious” Brian continued at his most pompous, “and you can keep your clothes on for the duration of their stay”
“Aye, aye, capn” replied his naked wife giving him a mock salute. Brian watched her bare buttocks quiver as she strode out of the room to prepare the nest for the return of their wandering chick.
Marion sighed to herself as she cleaned the old attic bedroom. This time tomorrow she would be locked up in her prison clothes. She knew deep down that Brian was right, Isla’s boyfriend was an unknown quantity and it was probably for the best that his first memory of his future mother-in-law wasn’t of her naked. She interrupted her train of thought. What was she thinking of, she hadn’t even met the boy, and here she was marrying Isla off.
Brian was thinking quite the opposite, this boy was just a passing fancy, Isla would soon come to her senses and drop him for a nice quiet, sensible, medical student. He rather wished that Isla wasn’t bringing him at all. The only good thing he could think about Henri’s visit would be it would stop Marion pestering him to take his clothes off. The thought of nudity set his mind going again, worrying away, and gnawing away at the thought of his daughter’s protests and, worse still, that one mad night in the wood. Again and again he went over it in his mind, could they have been seen? It was a question he would never know the answer to, but that didn’t stop him tormenting himself.
Conversely Marion was worrying about having to wear clothes. She was smoothing the sheets on the bed as she pondered her predicament. Isla and the boyfriend wouldn’t be there all the time, so she could go nude when they were out, just keep something handy if they came back unexpectedly; and she could rely on Isla to call ahead just to give the time to dress. It would be like old times she thought warmly as she stared down at the garden from the dormer in the roof. All those months, she had sat naked in the house, listening for Brian’s return and scurrying to get dressed at the first throaty sound of the car’s engine in the drive. Unconsciously she scanned the shrubbery mapping out the hidden path to the gate. She suddenly realised what she had been doing and smiled, perhaps she could take a walk. ‘Oh yes’ she thought brightening up, her pulse quickening at the thought of the danger involved. She might even arrange to meet Linda in the lane. She warmed at the thrill of it, roaming naked, with the unsettling danger of being caught. Cheered tremendously by these thoughts she returned to the lounge where Brian was watching television.
“You’re still dressed” she scolded, “This will be our last chance for a few days to spend time together naked”
“It’s too cold” he complained
“Nonsense it’s the middle of summer, it’s far too hot for clothes. I fancy I don’t know how I will get through tomorrow…….”
Brian recognised a threat when he heard one; although he was beginning to feel there was not as much substance behind them as he once feared. As far as he was aware the only people who had seen Marion naked were Brian himself, their daughter and their neighbour Linda. The stricken man suddenly came to mind. This burst Brain’s pretty party balloon. Anyone who was prepared to walk the streets stark naked and not pass by on the other side when they meet a helpless soul would have no qualms about baring all in front of their daughter’s boyfriend. Suddenly sober, Brian quickly stood up and stripped.
Marion smiled as she contemplated the mound of bare flesh on the settee that was the spoils of her victory.
“I do think it’s a little mean putting Henri away in the attic.”
“I know I can’t control what they do in university Marion, but while they are under my roof there will be no shenanigans”
“You won’t be here al the time”
Marion paused while Brian ruminated on this,
“People do have sex in the day you know”
Brian was at his most haughty “I do hope Isla and her boyfriend will not abuse our hospitality”
“They could do it outside”
Brian shot a look at Marion, but she was staring out of the window, idly playing with he left nipple. He watched as she gave it a little squeeze. “There’s a place in the wood” she continued as she rolled her hand over her breast. Brian felt an unwanted stirring between his legs
“Do you remember the place” Marion’s voice was low and husky now. He certainly did, and so did his penis. “There’s nothing to stop them going there, after all it is so arousing, sex al fresco, don’t you think”
Brian didn’t have to think, his libido was doing all that for him. In desperation he crossed his legs and tried to stare at the picture of a stormy seashore hanging above the stone mantelpiece. It was no use, as if by magnetism his eyes were drawn towards his wife’s naked body and her left hand which was slowly, idly, and apparently unconsciously caressing her right breast. Suddenly, like a seal coming up for air, his perfidious penis burst free and poked its head out from between his legs,. Marion let go of her nipple and smiled, “There you are, I knew you remembered” Brain wasn’t sure she was talking to him.
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