Phone Conversation

[Terrytwo2]

Hi Freswith,

What a story, love every word, and all the familes twists and turns

Your some writer, the attention to detail is amazing.

We loved snuggling up in our nappies and reading it to each other.

Any chance of a chapter on the older DL aunt Emma?

Look forward as ever to the next instalment

Love and respect, Terrytwo

[terrytwo]

Hi, Freswith,

How are you doing...?.Are we any closer to anymore chapters in your marvelous story..?

Look forward with bated breath...

Regards, Terrytwo

 

[jen1234]

On 5/8/2022 at 6:07 PM, Terrytwo2 said:

Hi Freswith,

What a story, love every word, and all the familes twists and turns

Your some writer, the attention to detail is amazing.

We loved snuggling up in our nappies and reading it to each other.

Any chance of a chapter on the older DL aunt Emma?

Look forward as ever to the next instalment

Love and respect, Terrytwo

I agree, looking forward to next chapter

[jen1234]

Hi, hope you are well.  Will we be

getting a update soon?  I hope so.  Jen

[terrytwo]

Hi Freswith,

How are you well i hope..?

Blimey, my heart skipped a beat, when i saw an update, linked to your fantastic nappy novel...??

Please, can we have another chapter...

Yours forever hopefull

Regards P&S x

[freswith]

Thank you far all the compliments - yes I am quite well, although I have been very busy with other things.. I have an episode half-complete and will get on with it.

[dondd]

Thanks for the update.  Looking forward to the next installment.

[terrytwo]

Hi freswith    

Brilliant....

Any chance of a christmas blockbuster...?    

We hold our breath in trepidation....

Regards...Paul & Sarah x

 

[freswith]

Anastasia

Matt was away, so the girls did play.  It usually happened at weekend when he was off at a golf tournament, so there were just the three of us in the vastness of  Pembroke House.  The girls were well into it by now.  They had taken over the back bedrooms, a choice which surprised me until I realised that they had easy access to the old servants' stairs and the back door; they could come and go at all hours of the day and night without us parents being disturbed, or even knowing it.  That suited us, too.  They would arrive on Friday night armed with a load of laundry, a case of Prosecco, and, very discretely, a bag of large disposable nappies, carefully smuggled up the back stairs.  

The girls had paid their way through college by taking modelling assignments which I organised for them.  They used my maiden name - Grace - as a nom de guerre which allowed them some privacy when they were not in front of the camera.  

The trunk in the attic had been ransacked of all usable items and they had been discretely laundered and packed into the curtained shelves of the changing table.  Into the cupboard went th the collection of overpants, nappy covers and rompers which my old friend Helen had made for me, and couple of onesie sleepers which I had acquired myself.  This delighted the girls, especially the strapped romper which Spike had portrayed me wearing in his now-notorious mural.

Matt never went in there; he was usually playing golf with his friend, a colo-rectal surgeon, who liked to do eighteen holes a day.

It happened as it so often does.  Percy's daughter Viola had deserted her husband, claiming violent abuse, and needed to get away from him, taking her eight-year-old daughter Anastasia with her.  She asked if she could come and stay in Pembroke while she got herself a new place to stay.  I agreed readily - Pembroke was always the family refuge, and no sooner had I said it than they arrived. Viola was still bristling, but poor little Stacey was obviously very upset, as the legs of her jeans testified.  She, too, suffered from the effects of the rogue genes that ran through the family. 

Viola took over the third bedroom, while Stacey was ensconced in the nursery.  The wet jeans were swiftly consigned to the washing machine and Viola duly informed  Stacey that she was subject to Pembroke Rules, which did nothing to raise her morale. 

Thankfully, even in her haste to pack, Viola had remembered to bring Stacey's night-time essentials, and a little later she ushered her daughter down to the lounge dressed in a T-shirt and bright pink shorts.  Unfortunately the shorts were not exactly new, Stacey was growing rapidly, and the edges of a disposable nappy protruded at waist and legs. However, the bright pink matched her face; she looked close to tears.

Stacey was unfamiliar with her grown-up cousins, and stood behind the sofa to conceal her infantile state as best she could.  Kate and Liz did their best to comfort her, but she was obviously very unhappy.  With her parents splitting up, she had much to be unhappy about, and the precaution was well justified - there is just so much a child can take, and a wet patch in the host's nice new carpet was a scene to be avoided.

It was unusually warm, and I decided to lay out afternoon tea on the terrace outside the dining room, an idea which was very well received by all except Stacey.  Viola helped me set it all up, but even that didn't tempt Stacey out from behind the sofa, until finally Kate and Liz reappeared dressed in very short sundresses, which were not quite long enough to conceal the pillows of their nappies extending below their hemlines.  Stacey did a complete double-take, and stared wide eyed as Liz picked her up, sat her astride her hip, and carried her out onto the terrace.  Kate seized a large cushion and put it on one of the chairs, and Stacey was plonked on top.  The twins sat either side, and Kate answered Stacey's arched eyebrows with a simple "Pembroke Rules - they're for us, too!" and the matter was dropped.

I had put on the best tea that I could, given the short notice, and Stacey enjoyed it greatly, her morale visibly improved.  Eventually Kate and Liz got up, and went hand in hand with Stacey to the lawn, and kicked off their shoes to walk on the cool grass, down towards the pond, where the fountain was playing.  I thought this a high-risk strategy - I knew what the combination of cool feet and tinkling water could do to a weak bladder.  I was not surprised to see them returning a bit heavier between the legs, but still smiling and joking. Viola gave a long sigh: "Bath-time, I think." and Kate and Liz promptly offered to do that duty, leaving Viola and myself to clear the dishes.  It gave Viola a chance to let her hair down and tell me all her worries, and how glad she was to be back in Pembroke with her daughter safe and sound.

Percy and Clare came round, and at first I feared it was to "talk sense" into their daughter, but I found I had underestimated them.  They ended up giving Viola a good Listening To, and succeeded in talking her down out of her agitated state.  Percy, in his wisdom, withheld judgement and concentrated on the positive help he could provide.  Some of the money I had given him for Pembroke was going to be used to buy Viola and Stacey a house, which was ironic - I had just sold two in London. We emptied a couple of bottles of wine between us over supper.  No more, Percy had to drive, and I didn't want a mournfully drunk Viola on my hands.  
 
Finally I looked in to the nursery to check on our junior guest, and found that the girls had put her in the big cot, where she laid, bedclothes down to her knees in the still-warm room, three-quarters on her front, and one leg bent to accommodate some bulky padding. To add insult to injury the girls had raised the side of the cot and latched it.  I looked closer and saw that Stacey was wearing a large terry nappy and white plastic pants and I wondered how they had ever managed to get her to agree to that.  Then I saw an almost empty baby's bottle in her hand, part-filled with a pale liquid.  In the bin beside the bed was an empty bottle of Prosecco.  She was now sleeping very deeply, and didn't stir when I slipped a finger into the leg elastics of her baby pants for a nappy check.  She was still dry, so I lifted the bedclothes up to her shoulders, and tucked them in.  No wonder the child, who had been so frightened this afternoon, was now sleeping so soundly.  That nappy was going to be much needed before morning.  

I went to check on my own girls.  It was a very similar picture.  Thankfully they had had enough sense to wear disposables, and were now passed out in their beds.  I did the same: checked their nappies and tucked them in.
 

[terrytwo]

Yahoo...splendid start to the new year...

Cheers...Freswith..

Regards...Terrytwo...?

[dondd]

Thanks, @freswith,for this most recent installment!  Enjoyed it as always.

[Aardvark]

Thanks for another great update, I’ve been wondering what’s been happening with Viola. How will she react to the twins parading around in nappies? Will she be tempted herself? Last time we saw her she seemed to enjoy them.

[jen1234]

Isn't it time for another chapter?

[Eliah]

Oh please do!

[CDfm]

It had been a few years since I have read any of this story.  I can say I was so pleased to see there had been additional chapters since I had last visited it. I have very fond memories of reading the story. I would very mush like to see it continue. 

[freswith]

My apologies for the lack of a new instalment - I think I have painted myself into a corner witht the last one.  I have an idea for one more, but that would be the end of this particular story.  I am quite busy at the moment, with holidays coming up, but I will try to find some time.

[jen1234]

8 hours ago, freswith said:

My apologies for the lack of a new instalment - I think I have painted myself into a corner witht the last one.  I have an idea for one more, but that would be the end of this particular story.  I am quite busy at the moment, with holidays coming up, but I will try to find some time.

I am sure you will find a clever way to have them all in diapers and leave the door open for additional chapters

[dondd]

@freswithMake no apologies!  We've enjoyed this story for years and I, for one, appreciate all you have done and any more you can do.  

Thanks!

[zzzz50]

I had started reading this story a couple of times and then would give up because of the length and my lack of time. I am glad that I put in the time to finally read the entire story. The writing is excellent, even if I sometimes don’t follow some of the “British” language and customs. The only items that bothered me were the Jewish references, I don’t think these would be acceptable in the US as they would be viewed as antisemitic. I certainly would not use these references to one of my Jewish friends. If this is ever converted to a book form I would suggest  revisions in those references.

[freswith]

Eh?  What Jewish references?

[jen1234]

1 hour ago, freswith said:

Eh?  What Jewish references?

I don't  remember any.

 

It has been a year since the ladt chapter, are we going to get a new one anytime soon

[zzzz50]

Early on there was a reference to an old joke about a Swede and a Jew, I didn’t get the joke and assumed it was based on some type of stereotype. There was also a reference to getting a good Jewish accountant, again another stereotype, why not just say they got a top notch or sharp accountant. There was a third reference that I can no longer remember. I always think when using a reference such as these, would I use it if speaking with one of my Jewish friends and if I did would they be offended. I think in both instances I would not want to repeat these jokes to them and yes they may very well be offended. Neither of these references are crucial to the story and could easily be rewritten to not include a reference to a religion or stereotype.

[jen1234]

4 minutes ago, zzzz50 said:

Early on there was a reference to an old joke about a Swede and a Jew, I didn’t get the joke and assumed it was based on some type of stereotype. There was also a reference to getting a good Jewish accountant, again another stereotype, why not just say they got a top notch or sharp accountant. There was a third reference that I can no longer remember. I always think when using a reference such as these, would I use it if speaking with one of my Jewish friends and if I did would they be offended. I think in both instances I would not want to repeat these jokes to them and yes they may very well be offended. Neither of these references are crucial to the story and could easily be rewritten to not include a reference to a religion or stereotype.

My comment: get a life.  

[jen1234]

4 minutes ago, zzzz50 said:

Early on there was a reference to an old joke about a Swede and a Jew, I didn’t get the joke and assumed it was based on some type of stereotype. There was also a reference to getting a good Jewish accountant, again another stereotype, why not just say they got a top notch or sharp accountant. There was a third reference that I can no longer remember. I always think when using a reference such as these, would I use it if speaking with one of my Jewish friends and if I did would they be offended. I think in both instances I would not want to repeat these jokes to them and yes they may very well be offended. Neither of these references are crucial to the story and could easily be rewritten to not include a reference to a religion or stereotype.

My comment: get a life.  

[freswith]

"May you live in interesting times!"  is an old Chinese curse.  The modern British version might be "May you live in a listed building!" meaning one of historical interest.  It might be a privilege but it results in having council jobsworths inspecting and interfering everywhere to ensure compliance with the regulations.  Pembroke, unfortunately, was one such "interesting" building, and deservedly so.  Dating from heaven-knows-when, and updated every century since, it was a palimpsest of different constructions.  The oldest, and least modified, was the old laundry, which had been the kitchen block for the original house, and was now just a bare shell.  I remembered it from my childhood with mixed feelings, full of washing machines and driers, with lots of nappies and plastic pants hanging out to dry.  I can't think I used all that many, but it was better than hanging them out on the washing line in the public view.  Now, with fewer children around it was still convenient for hanging out nappies, mostly those of my daughters, without attracting public attention.  Thankfully the girls preferred disposables, and so there were very few of them.

Now that Pembroke itself had been largely restored, including a complete rewiring necessitated after I kept getting electric shocks off the water taps, I had to decide what to do with the old kitchen/laundry.  My aged parents were getting more aged by the day, and the idea occurred to me that it might be possible to convert the building into a cottage to house them where I could keep an eye on them.  Not a bad idea, until the council inspector found out about it.  Eventually he was compromised, persuaded, threatened and bribed into agreeing and work proceeded.  I just made sure that all the nappies and plastic pants were taken out first, and let the builders in.  I did have a bad moment when their young lad presented me with a nappy pin, found in a crevice in the floor, but hopefully I didn't blush too much.  It was in excellent condition and I could reuse it.  At least I was getting something back from a very costly conversion job.

Problems abounded. Grace, my model agency, was not doing so well, and Julian was planning to retire.  It needed a shot in the arm of some sort to revitalise it.  Christmas was coming and I had been persuaded to host the family, with everybody anxious to see all the improvements I made to the family seat.  I was hoping the laundry conversion would show some progress by then, but the builders were being builders and taking their time.  Just before the Christmas break they had only got as far as stripping the old plaster off the huge chimney breast that dated back to the days when it was a kitchen for the big house - safely detached in case of fire.  I wanted to keep the fireplace bare ; it would make a lovely centre to the lounge.

The family arrived bit by bit, until Uncle Percy's family arrived, complete with grandchildren.  They all lived locally so there was no need to put the little ones up in the nursery, although it was still proving its worth when they needed changing.  They had to be watched; Percy had wound them up with the old legend about pirate Jack Sinclair's treasure being hidden somewhere inside the house, and they were rampaging around trying to find it.  I didn't want the walls of my nicely re-decorated bedrooms being pounded to pieces as they tried to find hollow bits.  There were plenty of creaking floorboards available, most of which I had tried in my childhood - without success.  I went in to the nursery just before lunch, and found changes in progress. Viola's daughter Alison had obviously been done, and was not too  happy at being found there, backing into a corner as I came in.  Chloe, Alice's eldest, was running her fingers around the leg elastics, adjusting them for comfort as was allowed.  Only little Gina was still on the changing table and completely unabashed.  At five years old and the youngest, she had no reason to be embarrassed while the older girls were wearing nappies too, and she greeted me cheerfully.  I felt a tiny bit envious of their neatly-fitted nappies and the comfort and sense of security they provided, but I couldn't emulate them here. The big ones were safely locked away in the big cupboard at the end.  After the holiday, perhaps, over the New Year, I would indulge myself.  

I went down to the lounge, where Peter was regaling Matt and Percy with stories of the Belize Confrontation over a rapidly-declining bottle of Sherry. I made a point of topping up Dad's glass before retreating to the kitchen, where sister Juliet and her daughter, the indefatigable Sally, were working on the Christmas lunch.

Lunch happened in the same old way, but with Matt at the head of the table and myself at the foot, even though Admiral Sir Peter was present; I was the lady of Pembroke, and I took precedence.  Such was my moment of triumph.

The children sat at a side table, which allowed them a bit of liberty, although Sally kept a sharp eye on them.  At least any serious accidents would be well contained. They were allowed to leave the table whenever they were replete, only us adults had to remain to toast the King. Then we went to listen to his speech.

We sat a while before Matt got busy on the computer, and arranged a video call to Vickie and Simon in Washington in which we all partook.  Simon's position as Naval attaché meant he was effectively on duty all the time, and they couldn't make it over here.  The five-hour time difference meant it was still morning over there, but the generation of feeling was still very strong.

 After a while, the conversation migrated to my restoration of Pembroke, which met with great approval, and I mentioned the work being done to convert the laundry into a cottage, which was met with some cynicism by Percy and Juliet.  They asked me how did I expect our nonagenarian parents to ever cope with the stairs?  In fairness, I admitted it hadn't occurred to me.  "Let's go and look at it!" said Peter and there was a general stirring. We all migrated to the kitchen door, but as I passed the toilet I felt I needed to go, however, I was pushed along by the crowd.  It wasn't too cold outside and soon we were in the shelter of the laundry, lit by the naked bulbs of the building team.  That was much brighter than I remember, although it's usual decor of drying nappies was absent.  Juliet looked around an sniffed "Not much room here.  Are you planning to restore the first floor?"  I nodded. We looked at the huge chimney breast that dominated the room, now stripped of its plaster and naked in its brickwork.  "What's that?"  said Alison.
"Well that's where the fireplace was.  It was a kitchen, so they had a very big one." I replied.  Huge, ugly, but a handsome feature.
"No, I meant That!" she protested pointing at the arch of bricks in the side of the fireplace.  
"Oh, that would have been the bread oven, a big hole where they put the lumps of dough to bake into bread." I replied. It was all bricked up years and years ago, but the bricks were modern, not the thin Tudor bricks like the rest of the chimney breast.
Alison, the oldest of the three, walked over with a hammer from the builder's toolbag and hit the bricks.  "Sounds hollow!" she said.
"Oh Gawd," I thought, "we're back to hunting treasure. I need the toilet!"  It was becoming pressing.  Little Georgina toddled over and reached up, the hemline of her dress lifted and showed that she had already solved that problem and needed a change.  For a moment I was distracted, and envied her such a simple solution.
"That would be a terrific feature if we opened it up and put some brass ornaments in there to catch the light!" said Juliet
"Let's try!" said Haldane, heretofore unusually quiet, and he stepped over to the builder's bag and picked out a hammer and chisel.  Peter did the same.  This was going to get dusty, so I used the excuse to pick up Georgina and slip out of the door, nodding to Alice and mentioning that I would give her child a change.  Alice nodded, and made a beeline for her elder daughter, doubtless with the same objective. 
Pleasantly relieved, I expected the girls to stay in the warmth of the nursery, but they would have none of it, so they were allowed to put on their coats and return to the laundry.  When I, also coated, made it back, there were several bricks missing from the hole and both Peter and Haldane were hammering vigorously.
"There's something in there!" exclaimed Alison, jumping up and down with excitement as two more bricks hit the floor.
"Big wooden box!"  added Haldane.
"Weighs a ton!" said Peter.
They both reached in, and muscles strained as they pulled the box forward, grinding on the dirt.  It reached beyond the lip of the oven when gravity asserted itself and it overbalanced and fell to the floor with a mighty crash.  One corner broke open, and a torrent of coins slipped out, gleaming gold in the light of the single bulb.