Phone Conversation

[freswith]

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[freswith]

Holly's Move

The following day was memorably wet: the weather, Jennifer and even Kim. I ignored the problem, putting it down to the stress that Jennifer was under, but decided that, following last night's episode, she really should wear some protection during the day, just in case. She objected and I was thankful when Kim volunteered and offered to go first. She even went to the bag and took a nappy out. I was more than surprised, as I had meant one of Jennifer's protectors, but Kim unfolded the nappy, spread it on the bed and sat down on it. She then asked me to do it up "properly" as she wasn't quite sure how it should go. I unfroze myself, and complied, adding a dab of ointment before I taped her up, and then I turned to Jennifer, who had a protector half out of its bag. She looked at Kim for a long moment, then took a nappy out of the other bag and passed it to me. I repeated the exercise with Jennifer, amazed at the effect that Kim, acting as a "Judas Goat," had had on her. She raised a limply clenched fist, and murmured "Solidarity!" I told them to get dressed and issued the strongest injunctions for them to remain dry. Thankfully Rupert was no problem as he had already been changed and dressed by Sally

After breakfast Sally went down to the newsagents and bought every newspaper worth reading, and we pored over them to find pictures of Holly and Stuart, and to sieve them for every tiny piece of information and speculation. The television and radio were discussing the hostage issue, and then the phone began to ring as the media cottoned on to Holly's identity and her relationship to the British admiral commanding the task force. I begged them not to broadcast this information as it could well put Holly and Stuart in grave danger. Fortunately the Ministry took notice, and the news was suppressed under the D notice scheme, but there was no way to control the internet and the foreign media. The most we could do was to buy a little time before Ronyoso discovered the true value of his hostages, if he hadn't already done so.

There was little other news from the front, and as yet nothing from Simon, due to the six-hour time difference. There were no more reports of Guatemalan aircraft, and the RAF had managed to get some aircraft into the airport to supply the garrison and to get the wounded out. Two aircraft had been damaged by ground fire, but had managed to fly the five hundred miles back to the Cayman Islands. There were more calls by MPs and media for "action" by the task force, but absolutely no mention of the Chinese carrier.

After lunch I changed Rupert and put him down for his nap. The girls were lying on their stomachs on the lounge carpet and zapping the television remote control in an endless search for news, relenting only to watch a few cartoons. I checked both nappies, and then ordered them to leave the television for a moment and use the toilet, which, after token protest, they did. That gave me a chance to sequester the remote control and switch to something more soothing, but the phone kept on ringing with more journalists, freelancers this time, who were even more persistent in trying to get a story, using every possible ploy to persuade me to talk. One woman was especially persistent, trying to point out that since I was the most prominent of the mothers of the various hostages I had an actual duty to call on the government to negotiate. Eventually I lost my temper with her, and told her that I would never misuse my position to try and subvert my husband from his proper duty, and slammed the phone down on her.

The phone rang again almost immediately and I answered it rather gruffly, and then promptly changed my tune. It was Simon. He sounded cheerful, and told me that the Chinese carrier had turned westward late last night and was now steaming at full speed back towards China, shadowed by a US carrier task force and a swarm of aircraft. By this evening it would be well out of range and unable to interfere any more in Central American affairs. Raoul Sanchez had finally been awoken from his slumber by the wave of protests over the hostage situation and the strong advice from the State Department about the need to restate the Monroe Doctrine as it applied to China. The only problem now was to find out where the hostages were being held so they wouldn't be subjected to friendly fire when our forces went in, as was obviously Ronyoso's intent. If I heard or saw anything which might indicate where they were I was to get back to him straight away. I promised that he would be the first to hear.

I went to make the tea, not so much that I was thirsty as I needed to slake my throat after all that talking. Jennifer came along with me and started to fill the kettle while I sorted out the tray. The wretched phone rang again, and I asked Sally to answer it. It would probably be that infernal woman again, and I didn't want to loose my temper over the scones and biscuits. I half listened as I heard Sally answer, and then she said "Holly, Where Are You?" I dropped the biscuits and the scones, Jennifer dropped the kettle with a splash, and we dashed to the phone. Sally held up a hand to stop us, and then switched the speaker on. I heard Holly's voice saying: "....on an island in a lake called Flores. It's inside Guatemala. We're quite okay!"

"How are they treating you?"

"Oh, we're fine. Colonel Alvarado has billeted us on his old father. It's a lovely old house on an island in middle of the lake, and Old Mister Alvarado is a real gent, he can't do enough for us. He even gave me my mobile phone back."

"Are the other hostages with you?"

"Hostages? Are we hostages then? No, they're all in the Hotel Tayasal over on the mainland. It's just us on the island with Alvarado's old dad. He's such a sweetie! You should really see his house! It's built on old Mayan foundations, and it's incredible. How's Jenny and Rupert?"

"Jenny's right here. Rupert's still having his nap." Sally passed the instrument over to the intensely agitated Jennifer.

"Hi, Mum! Where are you? When are you coming back?"

"On an island in a lake. It's very beautiful. I imagine we'll be back in a few days, but Senior Alvarado wants me to start digging up his garden."

"What for?"

"Apparently it was part of the palace of the old Mayan king, and its never been excavated at all, and I've told him I'd love to do it. Have you been good?"

"Yes, Mum!"

"Dry?"

"Well....almost." I looked sharply at her. One leg was crossed against the other. I recognised the signs.

"You make sure you stay that way! No puddles! Think of Gran's carpets."

"No, Mum!"

I took the handset from my granddaughter. "Are you sure you're alright, dear?"

"Yes Gran, we both fine."

"Now don't you worry, your father will be on his way to you very soon."

"Oh, he shouldn't go to all that trouble, we're quite alright here."

"Oh, I think he has some other business down there anyway. Now you sit tight and don't move!"

"I'll try my best Mum, but we're well away from the border here. It was quite exciting when Dad's boys came over, though. What a racket they make!"

"They're a rowdy lot. I'll look forward to hearing all about it when you get home. Now sit tight, won't you?"

"Yes Mum I'll do my best. I'll ring you tomorrow."

"Remember, we're going to Pembroke tomorrow. Percy's big party."

"Bugger. We'll miss it! Love to Percy! Bye bye!" The line went down.

I stood there for some seconds, letting my pulse and breathing slow down. Then Sally said; "We'd better ring Simon. We promised. He's desperate to know where the hostages are. Once he does, they can send the troops in. The Chinese carrier's out of the way now."

I dialled the number Simon had given me, and got through to him. I told him the news about Holly, and he was suddenly all ears. He checked the details very carefully - Kim remembered the name of the hotel the other hostages were in; I was grateful because I would never have remembered it myself. He said he's pass it on; there were important people who were very anxious to hear about the hostages, and rang off with minimum delay.

Jennifer looked up the map of Guatemala on the computer, and managed to find both the island and even the hotel, but couldn't identify Alvarado's house. Calming down, I remembered to check her nappy, with the result I'd feared. "Come on, Young Lady, let's get this fixed!" I took her upstairs. While I was in the middle of changing her the phone rang again, and Sally answered it. I straightened Jennifer up, but left her skirt off as I wished to keep a close eye on her in the event of any further accidents, then I asked Sally if the phone call had been important.

"It was Uncle Simon," she said, "He wanted Holly's mobile number. Said he had to check something."

"I expect he wants to make quite sure he heard the names right." I replied, and giving Jennifer a pat on the rear nudged her toward the kitchen I really needed that cup of tea now. We passed Kim on the stairs.

"Just going to call Grandfather." she said. "He told me to call him every day."

"Do you need changing as well?"

"Not me!" she laughed, "Tempting, but not needed. Not yet, anyway. Depends how long Grandfather want to keep me talking."

"Give him my regards."

"I shall."

"She's really odd, that kid." said Sally a little later, "I mean, most children would scream blue murder if you tried to get them back into nappies, but Kim actually seems to like it. Very strange."

"She's very keen to avoid Jenny having to lose face. It's very good of her."

"But she really doesn't have to go that far, you know. I'm sure Jenny's problem could be ignored with the same effect."

"She's a terribly lonely kid. Losing her parents probably did an awful lot of damage to her. She almost certainly started bedwetting as a result of that."

"That's probably one reason. But I suspect that she is really enjoying all the mothering it involves. It's taking her back to the days when she had a mother who looked after her every need and pampered her and changed her when she was wet. I'll bet she might even wet her nappy deliberately so she gets to keep on wearing them."

"You're getting very psychological, but I suspect you may be right. So what do we do about it?"

"It might even be a good therapy for her. Regress her, and see if we can unravel some of those knots. I'll give my tutor a call. I'll need to do a project this year. Maybe if I tell him I'm doing some practical research for it he won't mind if I stay here to do it rather than attending lectures."

"I'd be very pleased if you would. Looking after the three of them while all this is going on would be very difficult even if they weren't in nappies. As for trying a psychological experiment on Kim, she's my guest and effectively my ward for this week at least. I won't have anything forced on her, I daren't have her damaged in any way."

"What experiment are you going to try on me?" came Kim's voice from the doorway. She had rejoined us very quietly, and obviously overheard the tail end of what we had been saying..

"Right, it's your idea Sally, you explain." Sally, rather embarrassed, explained what she had been telling me. Kim stood, watching her carefully until she finished.

Then she spoke. "I'm sorry, Very Sorry, but it's true. I did wet deliberately the other night, but I thought I'd already wet a little bit in the night without meaning to. I did like it when Sally put the nappy on me. It took me right back. I felt so safe and secure. It was just like Mummy used to treat me. Grandfather never touches me, and my nurse was very strict, and never gave me any affection, never gave me a cuddle. I feel so much alone in this world. When I tell Grandfather he just says I must learn to cope with it, as he is old, and I'll have to live most of my life on my own. I hate the thought of that. I'm so grateful for the attention you've given me. It feels so nice to be babied again, even if it's just an act. I'm sorry if I've used you. I shouldn't have done it."

"Come here, Kim." I opened my arms to her. She came, quite slowly, and I sat her on my knee, wrapped my arms around her, and gave her a long, warm hug, rocking her gently to and fro. "Everybody should have one of these, at least once a day. As a child, it's your birthright. And it isn't an act, it's the real thing." She buried her face in my shoulder, tears in her eyes, and clung to me tightly. Something began to flow in me, too. It was a long time since I had comforted a child in this way and I felt the trust and love coming out of her.

I tried to get the children to bed on time, but it wasn't easy. Rupert had been indoors all day and had a surplus of energy, and objected strongly to the idea. He splashed vigorously in the bathroom, and kept trying to escape as I dried him. Fortunately Sally was around to help get him ready for bed, but it was a very undignified process for him as she lifted his legs for me to slide his nappy under him. He was kicking so desperately that there was no other way. Fortunately, once his nappy was on, his sleeper made it impossible for him to take it off, and eventually we managed to persuade him to stay in bed by telling him about the wicked night-goblins that would catch him if he got out one more time.

I also made sure the girls got to bed on time. Tomorrow was going to be a long day, and I didn't want overtired children making a fuss. I was by now so exhausted that I was an automaton, and when the first child came out of the bathroom I just reached into the bag, took a nappy and opened it on the bed before I looked up. Kim smiled at me, and went and sat down on the nappy. I shrugged - there was obviously no point in re-opening negotiations at that point - and I gave her a dab of ointment, then very gently pulled the front up between her legs and taped her in, running my fingers around the leg elastics to check the fit, before helping her into her pyjamas. She was now thoroughly and properly nappied, and whether she wet by accident or by choice really didn't matter, at least the bed would be dry. If she felt she needed to be back in nappies, for whatever reason, I would play along with it; it seemed to be meeting her needs whether psychological or merely sanitary. She seemed perfectly content with the arrangement as she climbed into her bed.

Jennifer was, as usual, as good as gold. She made no comment, but sat down on the second nappy, spread her legs, was anointed and taped up, and slipped into bed without further ado. I kissed them both goodnight and told them not to chatter, but to get some sleep, as tomorrow would be a long day.

Just as I was getting into bed myself, I remembered that I hadn't told Simon that I would be at Pembroke the next day, so I rang his number. I got Vickie, as Simon was still at work, and spent some time gossiping to her and discussing the events of the day, but when I mentioned Kim's strange behaviour, she said something quite unusual. "We're very pleased with Kim, but be a bit careful about what you say in front of her from now on. Know what I mean?"

I didn't, and said so, but she simply replied. "I can't tell you now, but I will later."

I lay awake for some time wondering what she had meant by it.

[freswith]

Percy's Party.

The drive to Pembroke was, as usual, a complete bore, and worse still, the weather was utterly foul. The M25 around London was nose-to-tail yet again and the road works must have been there so long as to qualify as ancient monuments. I had allowed an extra hour for the journey, and we needed all of it. I was comforted to think that I had insisted Jennifer wear a protector as there were no service areas in which we could take a break until we reached Toddington, and by then we were nearly at Pembroke. Kim was similarly attired out of "solidarity", and Rupert was just plain nappied. Sally's unceremonious dash to the loo on our final arrival made me wonder if she might have had cause to envy them during at least the latter part of the journey.

The car radio gave us the morning news. The Belizean and British troops were still holding out around the airport, and the RAF had managed to land reinforcements during the night, but there was still no sign of the task force. That was hardly surprising in view of the six-hour time difference; it would still be dark in Belize. There were questions being raised asking if the task force would arrive in time, and speculation as to whether the government really wanted it to, that the delay was deliberate. There was no mention at all of any Chinese carrier.

Claire and Percy had laid on their usual enormous spread for us and we assembled in the lounge for a drink. Almost the entire family was there; Matt and Amelia had come up from London but without their twins, Hal had come from Portsmouth and Tom and Emma from Bristol. Only Peter and Jack were absent, and of course Holly and Stuart were otherwise detained. I was able to pass on the latest from Holly, and there was general relief at the news that they were out of the combat zone and being treated courteously. Amelia told us that some of the girls at the model agency she ran had told her they were going to boycott Guacamole in protest at that country's aggression.

I had just finished my sherry and we were going into the dining room when the phone rang. Claire answered it, and beckoned me urgently. It was Holly.

"Hi Mum! We're in Texas! We're fine. We're on our way back."

"How on earth did you get there?"

"It was really funny. About an hour after you rang, some chap called Raoul called on my mobile and asked to speak with his cousin, old Alvarado. I put him on, and they spoke in Spanish for a long time, then Senor Alvarado told us to pack our things again as we would be moving. He took us to the airport, and all the other people who had been with us were brought there as well, all looking very worried. Then some transport aircraft arrived and the whole place was suddenly full of very tough men shouting and waving guns. They appeared to be Americans, although the aircraft were unmarked. We were ordered into the aircraft and eventually we arrived somewhere in Texas. They're very friendly and say we've been rescued, but they're still not letting us go just yet. As soon as they do, we'll come home."

I sat down and breathed a sigh of relief. Percy, ever the gracious host, appeared with a decanter and refilled my glass. Sherry never tasted better. We were just resuming our journey into the dining room when the phone rang again and I picked it up instinctively. It was Simon. He'd rung to wish Percy well, and asked me to put the speaker on. Yes, he'd heard about Holly and Stuart. He'd been up half the night helping to plan the raid. It was all over the news in the States. Now that the way was clear, the Prince of Wales had landed her marines to relieve the garrison, and the Belize main airport was now secured. They had met little opposition and further units were on their way in by sea and by air. I asked if Peter was all right, and Simon replied that he was fine, he sent his love, but he was still limiting his communications to secure channels. He would probably be able to relax that once he was quite sure the Chinese carrier was completely out of it, and that the Cubans weren't going to try anything funny either. He was having to watch them carefully because he had received intelligence that they might try a surprise attack on the fleet. He was, Simon said, absolutely relishing the prospect of a real battle with them. It didn't make me feel any easier.

We distributed ourselves around the table, and Kim joined us a few moments later. "Just remembered to phone Grandfather to tell him where I am." she said.

The lunch went very well, and I complimented Claire on the quality of her cuisine. Rupert certainly appreciated it; it was all over him. Fortunately Sally and Kim looked after him, one shovelling it in, and the other cleaning up the overflow. I recognised the high chair as the old one that had been in use for so many years, and Claire said that she had got it out of the attic specially. She also said that she had found Gran's old photograph album on the seat of it, and would show it to us later.

The formal part of the meal ended when Hal proposed the King's Health, which according to our family custom was toasted sitting down, after which the children were permitted to leave the table, and Rupert was unharnessed and allowed to go with them. My own mum and dad also left; they always enjoyed the company of their great-grandchildren. As the coffee was arriving Hal suggested that we retire to watch the news, and see if there were any reports from Belize. We trooped into the lounge, and were regaled by a succession of journalists interviewing other journalists as the crackle of gunfire sounded in the background. There was even a shot of a carrier on the horizon; from its twin islands it must have been either the Prince of Wales or the Queen Elizabeth, and then they cut to a news crew on board where they were just about to interview the admiral. I shouted to Jennifer to come quickly and we watched with rapt attention as Peter gave his view of the situation in calm and measured tones. I felt immensely proud of him, he looked so handsome in his tropical uniform, but I also desperately wanted him back with me at that moment. Kim gazed at him with wonder. Rupert simply said, "There's Grandad!"

The next item covered the hostages and the "raid" to free them, but try as we might we couldn't be sure we had seen Holly and Stuart amongst them. Still, we knew they were safe. Then they covered the riots in Guatemala City - or Guacamole City as we were now calling it - but it wasn't clear what they were rioting about. It just looked ugly.

We switched the television off as they moved on to a discussion of the Worksop football club and it's chances in the Cup Final, and Claire produced a massive photograph album. Opening it some way in she showed us a picture of two little girls standing in a garden. Jennifer whooped. "They're both in nappies!" she said, "Huge ones!" and I had to admit that they were Amelia and myself in Mum and Dad's garden at home. "But they're enormous! Whatever did you do in those?"

I felt myself reddening slightly, and Amelia began to laugh. "Exactly the same as you do today!" she said, "Only they're made of towelling. All babies wore them in those days. There were disposables, but they weren't much good, and so we had to wear those big bulky ones at night. with big roomy plastic pants over them. They all stuck out at the sides."

"They must have felt dreadful. How could you walk in them?"

"Well, we waddled a bit, as you can see. Those ones are the night-nappies, and we didn't have to walk very far in them so they could be much thicker. But they held a lot, and were still quite comfortable even when wet."

"Really weird! Did Mum have to wear them as well?"

"Not if I could help it. They needed a lot of washing." I said.

"How old was Gran then?"

"Would you believe...nearly TWELVE!" said Amelia helpfully. I could have strangled her. I turned the page, despite Jennifer trying stop me, and then I had my revenge. There was Amelia. Aged ten. Kneeling in the big drop-side cot dressed in nappy and frilly pants, holding a rattle and sucking a dummy. It was my turn to whoop and Amelia's to redden. Oh dear, Great Aunt Amelia was caught unprepared.

"What's she doing in there?" crowed Jennifer. "She looks so ridiculous!"

Amelia didn't exactly rush to volunteer an explanation, and so I took the opportunity. "She was put in there as a joke. She'd been getting out of bed in the night, and making mischief, so we got that cot down from the attic, and put her in it, so she couldn't get out."

"What are those pants?" said Kim, "They're so pretty with all the frills."

"Oh, we had a few pairs of them. Yes, they were very pretty. Mostly for going out, or important occasions, like Christmas."

"Or for bridesmaids at weddings, to wear under their dresses so they didn't make puddles in church." said Amelia. Obviously some memories were still quite fresh.

I turned the page. There was the other photograph of Amelia, taken a moment later, standing up in the cot and smooching Peter. The children whooped again, even Rupert was now joining in the fun.

"Peter's got his hand on her bum! On her frilly pants!" whooped Jennifer, and sure enough he had. Typical Peter. I turned over more rapidly, and then wished I hadn't. There was I, aged about six, perched on Granpa's arm. He was in full uniform with medals and his sword, and there was I, obviously in a nappy and frilly pants. Jennifer was laughing fit to bust, and Kim was examining it in great detail.

"You look so pretty!" she said "And I think the pants are lovely! Did they put you in the cot as well?"

"No, I hadn't been caught spying." I replied, "So there wasn't any need." Kim looked a little disconcerted for a moment.

"The cot is still up there." said Claire, "I saw it when made Percy get the high chair down for Rupert."

"I'd love to see it." said Kim. "It looks marvellous!"

I had had enough embarrassment for the moment. "Let's go up and see it." I suggested. Anything to get that damn book closed.

We went upstairs, and then up again into the attic. There was the cot, once again housing Granpa's wonderful model of the Victory under its dust sheet. Beside it was the large changing table, now containing many boxes of old clothes. Jennifer extracted a long fur stole from one, and wrapped it round her neck before parading up and down the attic. Amelia, delighted, gave her a lesson on how to parade catwalk-style, and the girls then treated us to a fashion show. If we had wanted a really good way to pass a filthy wet afternoon, this couldn't be bettered. They stripped down to their underwear, oblivious to the Protectors they were wearing, and worked their way along the boxes, until they had tried on nearly everything. Then they came to the big chest underneath the window. There was one snag; Amelia was sitting on it.

"What's in that one?" asked Jennifer.

"You don't want to know!" came the smooth reply.

"Oh Please, Amelia, let's have a look."

"I don't think these clothes are for you. You'd look silly in them."

Jennifer shifted into cute-little-girl mode, one knee bent across the other leg, hands held clenched, arms straight, and gazing up at the adult through her fringe. At ten years old she was well practised in the technique, "Oh Pleeeese, Great Aunt Amelia, let's try them on!"

There are words to use and words not to use. To Amelia, who was now past forty-five and ruefully contemplating fifty, "Aunt" might be acceptable, but "Great Aunt" was fighting talk. She had her victims on the hook and was now reeling them in. "These really aren't little girl clothes at all. They're rather special. I think you'd look really silly in them."

"Oh, let's try them! We want to try them on!" said Kim. Two proper suckers!

"If you insist. Let's see if they'll fit you." She rose slowly, feigning tiredness while building up the suspense.

The two girls closed in and lifted the lid. It was all there. Just as we'd left it. The girls looked for a long moment, and then another long moment while they worked it all out. "Oh God!" said Jennifer, "It's not really....? Is it?....Are they?"

"Yup. Just like we used to have to wear. In fact, probably the very ones we did have to wear." Amelia was not in a mood to be forgiving. "Well, Model Girls, let's see how they fit you!"

Jennifer began to look behind her, towards the door and possible escape. Claire, myself and Sally were firmly in the way, with Viola close behind. Kim was looking into the chest. "Look at these!" she cried, "They're real!" and she picked up the pink frilly pants that had once been intended for Holly. "They've got plastic inside!"

"Of course they have. They're plastic pants. Baby pants. They're the type we used to use. They keep the wetness inside your nappy and stop it getting out onto your clothes, or making the sheets wet."

"Or running down your legs." added Amelia helpfully.

"The same as the waterproof cover on the protector you've got on now." Kim shook her head in wonder.

I stepped forward, and picked up one of the nappies. It was soft and clean, and any lingering smell of camphor had long departed. I shook it out, the old familiar feel and smell taking me back years and years.

Jennifer looked at me, aghast. "Oh God. It's huge," she said, "Much too big!"

Claire took the dustsheet off the top of the changing table and it stood exposed like an instrument of torture. "Not at all," I replied, "you have to fold them up first, like this." I cast the nappy over the top of the table diagonally. "It's called a kite fold, because it looks like a kite." Kim came over to look, still clutching the pants. "You do it like this... This bit goes here...., and this here...., then you fold the ends over like this."

Kim watched intently, taking it all in. "Then you put the baby on here...like this!" and I pulled her protector down, picked her up, sat her on top of it. She looked around her, desperate for a means of escape, but there were none. "Lie back, dear," I pushed her down gently, "You put on the cream, and then the powder," - Amelia passed me the talcum, "Like this...and then you bring the front up between the baby's legs... like this...and then you bring the sides around and put the pins in,....thank you Amelia...like this. Can I have the pants please, Kim - thank you - you scrunch them up like this, put your hands through the leg holes, take the baby's feet, like this, and slide them on.... Like that." I pulled her up, dropped her onto her feet, and pulled the waistband up over her nappy. "Then you make sure the leg elastics are tucked up into the nappy, and the nappy is tucked in all round the baby's waist, like this, so you won't get any leaks. Simple, isn't it? Are you comfy now, dear?"

Kim, bemused, shifted her weight from one leg to the other, and fingered the elastics, and then the frills. Then she raised her head and said; "Yes Grandmother, quite comfy now, thank you.....only I can't walk!"

"Have a go. It settles down quite quickly." She started to waddle across the attic. She really did look very cute. "And try your best to keep your nappy dry!"

Kim turned. She was laughing. "What if I need a big one?"

"Just don't. We'd normally put a paper liner inside, but you haven't got one. That makes them murder to wash.....Now, Jenny, your turn!"

Jennifer had been trying to blend into the wallpaper, and failing. Amelia produced another nappy from the chest, and a pair of plain pants. Then she lifted a strapped romper. Jennifer cringed back against the wall, and her eyes began to screw up; a severe case of sense-of-humour failure.

"OK. That's Enough." I said. "Leave her be."

"Let's go and have some tea." said Claire, echoing my thoughts.

"Can you sort yourself out, Kim?" She nodded. "Come on then, Jenny. Tea!"

Kim rejoined us a little later, back in her normal clothes.

"It's one thing to dress up in fancy dress," said Jennifer, "But it's quite another if you really do need them. I really do need them, and there's no fun in it at all."

Amelia put an arm around her, and drew her close. "It's alright, pet, we've all been there. We know how you feel. You know, the night before that picture was taken, I crapped myself. The whole works. Big mess, dirty nappy, the lot. A month later I'd dried up altogether. I was your age, no older. It'll happen. It always does. Just hold on, we're all on your side."

"I was dry this morning. I really was!"

"Well done. That could be the start of it. It happens like that. Just do it again...and again." Amelia rubbed Jennifer's back and kissed her and Jennifer began to brighten up.

The time came to depart, and we loaded ourselves into the car in the pouring rain. We waved goodbye to Matt and Amelia, and to Hal as his little sports car growled past, then when I turned the key in my car, exactly nothing happened.

[freswith]

Sally's Insight

I tried to start the car again. Nothing at all. I looked desperately towards Percy and Claire still standing in Pembroke's doorway in a gesture of appeal. Percy came over, leant in the window, and I tried again. The lights dimmed.

"Probably a dead battery. Not going to fix it tonight, better come back inside."

We trooped back inside, Percy closed the great front door, and shut the weather out. "It's going to be almost impossible to get you a new battery at this hour of night," he said, "let alone to fit it. I think you're going to have to spend the night here." he said, and looked at Claire. She nodded.

"We've got plenty of space." She said, and bedrooms were swiftly allocated.

Claire seemed to conjure four more meals out of nowhere, although to be frank we did help her get through a lot of party leftovers. I just made a mental note to get out of there before Percy commandeered them for a curry. I suddenly felt sorry for all those who had faced judgement before him after he had eaten one of his notorious curries; it was probably where his reputation as a hanging judge had come from.

Sally, bless her, carried the furiously protesting Rupert up to bed, and I followed shortly after to assist with the inevitable struggle to get him bathed and ready. It was an epic struggle to get his nappy on, as he wriggled and kicked, and it took both of us to do it. Fortunately I had brought several changes with me, but there would be only one solution for Jennifer - and presumably, by extension, for Kim. I set about the necessary preparations. Claire had only got a double bed for both Jennifer and Kim, and I would have to share another one with Sally.

We watched the news. It had been specially extended because the Marines had finally gone in to Belize, landing at Ladyville and the airport, splitting the Guatemalan forces into two, and opening the airport for reinforcements. Journalists were now interviewing other journalists under the very pall of the smoke of battle. Transport aircraft were landing, lines of troops were marching, and artillery was firing; it was obviously turning into a great military field-day. After the citizens of Guacamole had rioted, and politicians had perorated on all sides, it was time to get the girls to bed. All went well until Jennifer came out of the bathroom.

"No!. No Way!" she snapped.

"Sorry, Jenny: No choice." I replied. "I didn't bring your usual night-nappy with me, so it's this or nothing."

"Nothing then!"

"Not if you're sleeping in one of Claire's beds. I'm not taking that risk with you."

"But I was dry this morning!"

"And wet yesterday. Come on, be sensible. It's just for one night. You wouldn't want to look silly in front of Percy and Claire, now would you?"

"It's so.... So undignified!... So bulky!"

"It's even more undignified if you need the whole bed changed in the night. And you'll be sleeping with Kim. You wouldn't want to wet on her, now would you?"

She didn't reply, and a gentle pull on her arm got her moving forward to where the nappy lay kite-folded on the bed, as though prepared for an execution. I sat her down in the middle of it and she reluctantly laid down, never taking her eyes off the acreage of white towelling. I praised her for being a good girl, and busied myself with ointment and powder, before bringing the front of her nappy up between her legs and pinning it securely to the sides in the time-honoured way, and tucking in the excess around her legs. She made no resistance, and as Sally passed me the plastic pants, Jennifer ventured a hand down to touch the towelling of her nappy and delicately stroked the pin. I slipped the pants over her ankles and pulled them up her legs until the leg elastics began to grip her, the helped her to her feet before drawing them up to her waist and running my fingers around the elastics to make sure the nappy was well tucked in.

"Feels weird!" she said, "I can't get my legs together. Do I really have to wear this? Couldn't I just wear a protector?"

"Sorry Jenny, when you wet in the night I don't think the protector would ever hold it. You do far too much."

She nodded. I opened up one of the sleepers I'd found in the chest - I think it had once been used for Viola, and would be a good fit for her. Then I realised that the zipper ran up the back. I recalled that Claire had once said something about Viola having been in the habit of taking her nappy off in the night from time to time, and she had to get these sleepers made specially to stop her doing it. Oh, well, it was too late to do anything now. At least they were easy to put on. I zipped her in, and fastened the hook at the back of the collar, and if she wanted to go to the toilet in the night, it would be almost impossible; she would just have to do it in her nappy, but then that's where she usually did it anyway. I would apologise for any inconvenience - if that were the right word - tomorrow.

"Are you comfy now, dear?"

She looked daggers at me. "Yes, Gran, quite comfy. Thank You!" I gave her a kiss and a pat on her well-padded seat and nudged her into bed.

Kim came out of the bathroom as I was folding another nappy on the bed. She stopped dead when she saw what was obviously being prepared for her, her shoulders went down and she looked up at me in mute appeal.

"You were wet this morning, Kim, weren't you?" She hesitated to answer, and my suspicions hardened; she had wet deliberately, either because she wanted to save Jennifer's face, or because she actually wanted to wear nappies for the sense of security they gave her. Well, now it was crunch time. I took her arm and steered her over the nappy. "You wouldn't want to wet in this bed, would you? Just imagine what the Judge would say!" After a second or so, she nodded, and sat herself down in the centre of the nappy. She reached down between her legs and pulled the front of the nappy up over her to preserve some modesty, but I gently pulled it down again, and anointed her, then gave her a generous covering of talc. She pulled the front of the nappy up again as soon as I'd finished, and I brought the sides round one by one and pinned them, snapping the locking heads down on the pins. "It's so they won't come undone in the night and prick you." She nodded.

Sally passed me the frilly baby pants that Kim had admired earlier in the day. It seemed that they were at last going to be used for their proper purpose. I slipped them over her ankles and up to her knees, then, while I reached for the second sleeper, intending to put it on her legs before standing her up, she lifted her bottom and pulled her pants up to her waist. I almost started to tell her to keep her handies out of her panties, but then I thought it was unnecessary in her case; she certainly wasn't trying to take her nappy off. She ran her fingers around the leg elastics and finally patted the frills on her seat. I held the sleeper open and she stepped into it, and slipped her arms into the sleeves as I drew it up her. With my hands on her shoulders I turned her round and zipped up the back before finally hooking it together at the top. It was a trifle too large on her, but it would keep her warm. Unfortunately there was almost no way she could get it off if she wanted to go to the toilet. There was only one place she could do that.

Kim slipped her hands under her thick black hair, and prized it from the neck of the sleeper, letting it fall heavily over her shoulders. Then she crawled onto the bed and slithered in between the sheets next to Jennifer.

I enjoined the girls not to stay awake talking but to go to sleep swiftly, wished them sweet dreams and turned the light out. The whispered conversation started even before I closed the door.

I went downstairs with Sally, and walked into the lounge where Percy was already pouring from the sherry decanter. This was grown-up time, with the children put to bed and I had already slipped back so easily into motherhood-mode that I was very grateful for it. I took the proffered glass from Percy and sat down with a sigh of relief. Claire had obviously read my thoughts, and laughed gently.

"What's it like being a mother again? And three of them. And all in nappies!"

"Oh, Rupert's the only real problem. Jennifer could shift for herself, but I just like to make sure about it. Kim doesn't need them, although Sally will tell you that she really has a psychological need. The poor kid has a big shortfall in the motherly-love department."

"Doesn't she have any English relations on her mother's side?"

"You, know, I haven't even asked, perhaps she does. I'll try and find out." I sipped the sherry. It warmed and relaxed me, and I leant back into the armchair. "Of course, they might not want to get involved with her, that's the problem. I don't think she could handle any more rejection."

"Perhaps I could have a go at her?" said Sally, "It would help with my project."

"Oh, don't use the girl as a lab rat, I don't think that would be very nice."

"Her grandfather's using her as a spy, Simon's using her as a double-agent, Jennifer's using her as an emotional lifebelt, and now I'm using her as a lab rat."

I nearly spilt my sherry. "What was that? Spy? Double agent? What on earth are you talking about?"

"Isn't it obvious? Just after Simon calls, every single time, she then goes and calls her Grandfather, and prattles on in Cantonese for ten minutes, telling him everything she's heard. Simon asked for the number she uses; why the hell would he do that? You can bet they're monitoring every word she says, and it's all going back to Simon. That's why he gave us all that information about the Chinese carrier, and that guff about the nuclear sub. in the Pacific. How often do we have a sub in there? She passed that back to Grandfather. I'll bet it was relayed to Peking within ten minutes. They all believed her because they'd been so frightfully clever at getting her in here, and so they made sure the carrier got right out of the way. That stuff about Cuba too. I'll bet MI6 are wetting themselves with laughter over all this. I wonder how long before the Chinese realise they've been had?"

Percy was standing frozen as he listened to Sally's speech. Eventually he said, "You've been reading too many books, my dear. It's bad for the brain, I tell you. Nobody would use a ten-year old girl as a spy. Have some more sherry!"

"Nobody would ever suspect a ten-year old girl of being a spy." said Claire. "She could be a very good one."

The phone rang. "If that's Simon, I'm going to give him a piece of my mind!" I said.

Sally almost exploded, "For God's sake don't do that! Don't do anything like that. Play it along. It's worked so far, it's got rid of the Chinese carrier. Don't meddle. That carrier could turn about in five minutes and catch Peter napping."

Percy picked up the phone. "Pembroke...Yes...yes...yes, Peter, she's here!"

I nearly knocked Percy flying in my haste. The "how are you, are you all right?" must have lasted about five minutes, and actually have achieved very little. I explained why we were still at Pembroke, and told him about Holly and Stuart being safe in Texas, and he corrected me; they were now heading for Washington where Simon and Vickie would meet them and look after them. I was not to worry about him, he was right on top of the situation, and he expected it all to be over within the week. Peter's measured tones calmed me and I felt the tension of the last few days evaporating. I told him about Sally, and Jennifer, and Kim, and he said yes, he'd heard a lot about Kim. I looked sharply at Sally. She couldn't have heard what Peter had said, but I nodded and gave her the thumbs up. She replied with a sage nod. She was leaning so close to me to listen to Peter that we were in danger of knocking our heads together. Eventually I passed the phone over to her, and she began the "How are you ritual" again. I heard her start asking Peter to keep an eye on "that carrier" and I heard Peter's tone alter. He was right on top of that situation and was not going to be given orders by little students. Sally grinned, and took it in good spirit, then she passed the phone back to me and we said our goodbyes. I put the phone down, and no longer felt tired or stressed; hearing Peter's voice had done me more good than any amount of sherry.

Sally and I shared a double bed in one of the other rooms. It felt quite like old times, I hadn't had Sally in my bed since she was very small and sick with something or other. I joked about that, and reminded her that she had still been in nappies at the time. She promised me that she wouldn't wet the bed that night and I drifted off comforted by the thought that my family were much safer now, and I was back in the protecting walls of Pembroke.

[Pollyanna Fleshman]

Like usual, this is a great story. i can't wait for more.

[freswith]

Many thanks for that, it's always very gratifying to have some appreciation - I'll try to get another episode done for Friday.

[jbz2079]

Sheesh! Friday! hope I can wait, Thanks again Freshwith.

[BulkLover]

I've been lurking in the forums for quite a long time, but I've just spent the whole afternoon and evening reading the whole story and all I can say is: masterpiece, absolute masterpiece. I couldn't stop reading until I reached the end and I can't wait to read more

Thank you very much.

[freswith]

Thank you for your comments. I'll be putting another episode up tomorrow. I've tried my hand at doing some illustrations. Here's one. I'm no artist, but I found it useful to visualise some of my characters. I hope you like it.

[freswith]

Kim's Dilemma

The children were quite boisterous on the way home. Both Jennifer and Kim had had dry nights, to Jennifer's great satisfaction. Three nights in a row had equalled her old record, and I had just happened to mention that when she did get dry it would probably happen quite suddenly. That went down very well. Unfortunately I had forgotten to pack any underpants for her, and so she had to wear a protector, which meant that Kim insisted on wearing one too, so once again I had all three of my back-seat passengers secured against the dreaded wet. The radio gave us news from Belize of the surrender of the Guatemalan forces in Belize City, which was not surprising since they had been cut off by both land and sea, and had good cause to look to their own salvation. There had been no reports of Guatemalan jets attacking our troops, and efforts were now being directed to Belmopan where the Kaibiles were still holding out. There were massive anti-government riots again in Guatemala City. Ronyoso was heard blustering and trying to rally his followers, but his support was visibly dwindling..

On reaching home I left the girls to sort themselves out with regards to their own underwear while I changed Rupert. Sally answered the phone, and called me - it was Amelia with a long complaint about her twins. She had half feared that they might have the boys in while she was away, but what they had actually done was much worse. Amelia had been determined that they would concentrate on schoolwork, but the girls had had other ideas. Having inherited Amelia's beauty and some of Matt's brains, and being the daughters of Amelia Grace, they had been receiving a number of offers of modelling jobs, but to their intense annoyance Amelia had vetoed all of them in favour of school. Now, while their parents back was turned they had signed with a rival agency, and Amelia was absolutely livid. They had spent the day at a photographer's studio having portfolio photographs done and had then told Amelia and Matt. There wasn't a blind thing she could do about it; they had just turned eighteen and their signatures were legal. I sympathised with my seething sister, and uttered the usual commiserations about children growing up so fast, and never doing as they're told.

"I know!" she replied, It seems only yesterday that I was changing them!"

"Well it wasn't so long ago....and as I recall it was a bit of a fight to get their nappies on them even then. I wonder where they got that from?"

"All right. Fair Cop! But at least I didn't go haring off to another agency."

"Isn't there a cooling off period?"

"Yes, there is, but the smug little so-and-so's are telling me that they want someone who will really represent them properly - as if I wouldn't!"

"You wouldn't. You'd be so keen at keeping them at school or university."

"No, it's not that. The agency they've gone to has a very poor reputation. It deals in the tit-and-bum trade; the hard end of the glamour business. Once you've worked for them, the quality accounts won't touch you. God knows where they'll turn up! Page Three of The Sun, or the News of the World! God Help Us!"

"Ah!" The case was altered. Suddenly the implications began to appear. I hadn't realised how much I was looking forward to Peter's knighthood, and how confident I had been about it these last few hours after it was clear he was going to come home victorious, and suddenly I could see pictures of Liz and Kate in their birthday suits all over the tabloid press as the nieces of Admiral Peter Simmonds, and I would be just plain Mrs Simmonds for ever more. Not that I'm a snob, of course, of course, ...but I had rather come to like the idea of matching Gran in that respect. "So what do we do?"

"I was hoping you'd tell me that, Big Sister. I'm at my wit's end. What would Gran have done?"

Good point. What would Gran have done, apart from having apoplexy? I tried to think, although the prospect of those pictures appearing in the press filled my mind to the exclusion of all other thought.

"Those pictures. The ones we saw yesterday. There were some of Liz and Kate in there, weren't there?." I said.

"What, with nappies on? Yes, there were."

"Have you thought what would happen if they went on the internet?"

"It would make them a laughing-stock! They'd never live it down! It's blackmail! You couldn't do that to them! ...Could you?

"Oh yes I would, sister. After all, they are blackmailing us. If Peter misses his knighthood because of what they've done I won't just put those pictures on the internet, I'll wring their wretched little necks as well. Then let's see what kind of job offers they'll get."

"God, that's cruel! I really like it!"

"I seem to remember a similar threat brought you to heel once."

"Indeed it did! It kept me awake for nights after that. Come to think of it, it was probably enough to make me stop wetting."

"Let's talk to Claire. Get her to scan them in, and email copies to me. That'll put them out of reach of your loving daughters. Then, Sister, you keep your part of the bargain. Sign them on with Grace and get them some quality work. If you can't do that, nobody can. I'm sure you can splice that with school, and, after all, you've made a very well paid career of it."

Eventually I put the phone down, and having solved one crisis, I was grateful that now I only had a little war to deal with. I went to check on the children. I found Jenny with her nose in a book, and Kim was playing with Rupert, as Sally supervised, or at least she did so when she looked up from the copious notes that she was making on a notepad.

"Your project?"

"My project. Just some notes. Going well, although I don't know quite where it'll lead yet."

I went over to Kim, where she was amusing Rupert by making his teddy bear dance for him as she sang a nursery rhyme. I thanked her for entertaining him, and then asked if she had any playmates when she was at home. Her shoulders went down, and she replied that her father hadn't had any brothers or sisters, as each family in China was only allowed one child at that time. There were no close family in China. I asked about her mother's family, and, screwing her face up she said that she thought there had been some aunts once, but she had lost all contact with that side of the family after her parents were killed. Her grandfather hadn't really approved of the marriage, and had tried to bring her up as much as possible in the Chinese way. Gently, I started to probe her a little more. Her mother's maiden name was O'Hara, but she had been born in England and met her father when he had been living over here. Yes, she did have a Gran over here, but had no idea of what had become of her. Lo had kept her in China most of the time since the crash, and she didn't know where her British family had got to. Mum had mentioned something about living in Reading, but Kim really didn't know where that was. Mum's sisters had been married, and there might have been children, but she hadn't seen them for many years. There was just Grandfather and Kim, and her very strict nurse. I noted Sally was listening carefully, and taking notes.

I went to check Rupert's nappy, which was looking rather swollen, and decided he needed another change. I spread the changing pad on the floor, and Kim asked if she could do it. Rupert promptly took off for the hills, and had to be fielded; he was in no mood to have his playtime interrupted by being made to lie on a cold plastic mat and be changed. Kim made a fair job of it, and I simply checked the tightness of the tapes before restoring Rupert's freedom, but leaving his trousers off. It was very warm in the children's room, and I wanted to keep an eye on him, as he was certainly getting through nappies at quite a rate today.

An idea began to form in my head. I asked Kim if she could remember her mother's birthday. She did that. Then I asked how old she was when she had Kim. Kim knew that as well. I cast a glance towards Sally, and saw her pen noting the details down. I gave Rupert a pat on the bottom, nudged him into waddling towards Kim's waiting arms, and left the room.

I called Vickie. I wanted to make sure that Holly and Stuart had arrived safely in Washington; after the last few days, I wouldn't have been surprised if they had ended up in Timbuktu. Simon answered the phone. He told me that they had arrived last night, and were currently in the bathroom. I felt duly relieved, but saw my chance to tackle Simon on the other issue. After a little bit of stalling, and a bit of my arm-twisting, he asked if Kim was able to hear the conversation. I checked on the door of the children's room. It was firmly closed. Then Simon expanded a little. He told me that Lo Kung Mien was believed to be the head of Chinese intelligence in Europe, outranked the Ambassador to the U.K., was very close to the inner circle of the Chinese leadership, and Oh Yes, was probably one of the richest Chinese outside China, having made a fortune in commodity speculation. He had recognised the name when I mentioned it, and the security people had absolutely wet themselves when they heard that Lo's granddaughter was a guest in the house of the British admiral. They had decided to play it for all it was worth, and had placed an intercept on the mobile phone which Kim was using, which turned out to be a plain shop-bought phone linking straight to another on a pre-paid contract, and otherwise untraceable. They had then monitored every word of the conversations Kim had had with Lo, and realised that she was a very well-trained little girl indeed; Simon's briefings had been passed on verbatim. It was a godsend to MI6, as they now had a line into the top level of Chinese intelligence, which the Chinese trusted implicitly, and could be used to feed them the picture that the British wished to present. Apparently the Chinese had swallowed it whole, including the bit about the British nuclear submarine in the Pacific. The net result had been that the Chinese, rather than risk their one and only carrier, had withdrawn it as quickly as possible, and it had all been achieved without making any overt threats that would have involved the Chinese having to lose face. The champagne corks were now popping in Millbank and Langley in celebration of their successful ploy. The only problem had been that there had been some kind of leak of information into the City of London and there had been wild fluctuations in share prices.

I asked about Holly and Stuart, and their rescue, and once again Simon was like a cat with two tails. Holly's phone had been the only one returned to the hostages, and her call had launched the whole operation. He would tell me more later, but please would I avoid any mention of "cousin Raoul"; it was a very, very sensitive subject just at the moment.

Eventually Holly came out of the bathroom, and I was able to talk to her. I asked the big question - how were things going with Stuart, and she replied that they were going very well; they had realised that there were more important things in life than work and flirting, and their shared experiences had brought them much closer. I felt greatly relieved, and asked her when they would be coming home. She replied that, if it weren't too much trouble for me to look after Jennifer and Rupert, they would spend a few days in Washington with Vicky and Simon and be back early next week. I replied I'd be delighted to have them for a few more days, and, despite all the dramas, I found I really meant it.

After I put the phone down, Kim came into the room, looking very downcast. I asked what the matter was, and she told me that her grandfather had been on the phone to her. He was now returned from his business trip and wanted her to go back to stay with him. There was no way I could refuse, of course, but I asked Kim to ring him back so I could speak to him myself. She produced her mobile phone, and called him, passing the phone over to me after a few exchanges in Cantonese.

Lo was, as before, beautifully polite and charming. He said how much he had missed his little granddaughter, and hoped to make things up to her by entertaining her during the remainder of her half-term holiday. He would also like to meet with me to thank me properly for looking after Kim. I could hardly refuse, and I arranged to bring Kim up to his house in London the following day. I thanked him, and rang off. Then I looked at Kim. Two large tears were rolling down her cheeks.

"What's wrong, Kim?"

"I'm very sorry, Mrs Simmonds, but I think I've done something very wrong. Very, very wrong."

"Oh come on Kim, what could that possibly be. You haven't had an accident, have you?"

"It's not that. It's just Grandfather. He made me do it."

"Made you do what, Kim?"

"He told me to listen in on everything, and if it referred to Belize or to the navy, I was to repeat it back to him. It's a sort of game we play. It's fun, but I didn't realise that it really meant something. I didn't realise, until I saw that news about the troopships being sunk, that something I said might have meant your husband's ship could have been sunk and he could have been eaten by sharks. I thought I was helping Grandfather and China, and until you started talking about Mother and her British side, I'd forgotten that I was also British and I had betrayed my other home." The tears were now flowing freely, her shoulders shaking. "You've been so kind to me and you haven't punished me for my accidents like Nurse would have done, and yet I've been spying on you."

I reached out and took her shoulders. She came to me reluctantly. "Are you going to beat me for it? I think I deserve to be beaten. I won't protest. Nurse beats me a lot. On the bare bottom. With a wooden thing. With holes in it. It stings terribly, but I can stand it. You can take my protector down. I'll try not to wriggle and cry too much, and I won't cheat."

I drew her close to me and hugged her. "Perish the thought! Kim, Oh Kim, Simon knew exactly what you were doing. He said those things so that you would repeat them back to your grandfather. He's very pleased with you because you did so. He was very afraid that the Chinese carrier would have been sunk, and then lots and lots of men would have lost their lives, and then there would have been even more fighting. He needed to tell the Chinese what we were prepared to do, in such a way they would realise the danger they were in without being made to look cowardly. They took the hint and the carrier is now well out of danger."

"You mean you're not angry with me? After all that I've done?"

"Not at all!"

"Even though I've just had a bit of an accident in my protector?"

Instinctively I felt her seat. She was right, but it wasn't so small. "Not surprised. Come on. Let's get you changed!"

I took her up to the children's room, and there I changed her without further remark from any of us. We were out of protectors, and so it had to be a full nappy, but I gained the impression that it was not unwelcome. I asked her if her grandfather knew about the beatings her nurse was giving her, and for a moment she stiffened. "I think s... I don't think so. I try not to cry in front of him. He wouldn't approve. Nurse says so!"

"When I take you home tomorrow, I think I'd better have a talk to your grandfather."

"Oh, please don't tell him everything. I'm not supposed to have told you about all that. He'll be so angry with me."

"I'll be very careful about what I tell him, but I really think I need to speak to him." Kim relaxed a little. I helped her to her feet, and gave her a pat on the bottom to dismiss her so she could play with the others.

[freswith]

Lo's Tea.

Sally followed me downstairs. "What was all that about? Kim was all red about the eyes. It wasn't as if it was a big accident, after all." I told her about Simon's call, and admitted that she had been right about Kim. She took it all in, nodding with her mouth agape, and it wasn't until I had finished that she started asking questions. Then I told her about Kim's crisis of conscience, and that she had confirmed what Simon had said. Sally was horrified to hear about Kim being beaten by her nurse, and immediately said that we should take the matter up with the authorities. I stopped her at that point; Spy Chief Lo Kung Mien had absolutely no reason to fear Mrs Buggins of the Social Services, but I told her about Kim going home to her grandfather tomorrow, and that I would go with her to meet him. Sally immediately told me not to go near such a dangerous man, and when I demurred, she insisted that I call Simon and talk to him. That sounded like sense so, trying not to think of my telephone bill, I called his number again.

Simon was not surprised to hear that Kim had just had a crisis. He told me that he was expecting that something might go wrong. I felt my temper brewing up inside me, and I told him that he shouldn't use a ten-year-old girl as a pawn in his games, and I told him of the upset it had caused. His voice softened, and he apologised for what he had done, but pointed out that if the two carriers had gone head-to-head, then one would have been sunk and it could easily have cost two thousand lives - British or Chinese - and Peter would not have been immune. If he had sunk the Chinese carrier, the diplomatic repercussions would almost certainly have ended his career; if the Chinese carrier had sunk the Queen Elizabeth it could have been the end of his life. There were plenty of ten-year-old daughters who stood to lose their fathers. With some reluctance, I came to see his point, and my anger evaporated. I told him that I now had an emotional salvage job to do on a rather disturbed little girl whose father let the nurse beat her. There was a serious danger that Kim might be beaten heavily after this. Simon went very quiet at that, and I told him that I would be taking her home personally, and would have to confront Lo and have it out with him. Simon began to fluster, and said it would be most unwise for me to have a row with a ruthless and powerful man like Lo, especially where it could mean that he would lose face, but I told him that I felt it my duty to speak on Kim's behalf, and he knew as well as I did that duty meant not having a choice. It was the way I had been brought up and he, above all people, should understand that. I had my dander up, and was determined to carry all before me. Simon began to fall back, asked me for the time I would be calling on Lo, and said that he would see to it that the "people" at the London end knew what I was going to try and do.

Half an hour later, Peter rang. In a calmer and more measured way he tried to dissuade me from confronting Lo, but I explained to him that there were certain things I could not let pass, and the systematic mistreatment of a child was one of them. Peter accepted that, but still asked me if I was determined to sup with Lo, then to take the longest possible spoon. I agreed.

Kim was very quiet that evening, and very withdrawn. At first Jennifer tried quite hard to amuse her, but eventually they both withdrew to their room and spent the evening in deep conversation. Sally went in at bath time to move business, and I followed afterwards. Jennifer was already sitting in her bed when I went in, having put her nappy on herself. Kim came out of the bathroom a moment later, and took another nappy from the pack. Without speaking, I took it from her and opened it on the bed. She made no comment, but sat on top of it. I took the ointment pot and started to pass it to her, but she simply laid back on the bed and parted her legs. I took the hint and anointed her before taping her up, moving slowly and gently. I passed her pyjamas, and she began to put them on. She still didn't speak, and so I reiterated my promise that I would speak to her grandfather myself when I took her home. She thanked me, and I kissed her goodnight.

At the appointed hour on following day I was trying to find my way through the diplomatic quarter of Belgravia with Kim's help. Sally had demanded to come with me, but I had insisted that she stay to look after Rupert, while I took Jennifer with us to give support to Kim. Eventually we found the address but I ignored Kim's invitation to drive in the gateway, and found a parking place that was most conveniently vacated just as I arrived, and I was able to tuck the car in behind a window-cleaner's van. I checked my hat - an unusual ornament in this day and age, but I wanted to go into battle properly dressed. Taking a firm grip on my handbag, I shepherded Kim and Jennifer over the road to the splendid Portland-stone mansion opposite. As I approached the door was opened by a young, immaculately dressed Chinese man who ushered me into a reception room. An elderly Chinese rose to his feet, and approached me smiling, holding out his hands in greeting. Kim came out from behind me.

"Grandfather, this is..."

"Lady Simmonds!" he interrupted, "How happy I am to meet you at last! Kim has told me so much about you."

I corrected him. It was just plain Mrs Simmonds. He corrected me. "My sources inform me that the award has already been decided and will be published very shortly. May I be the first to congratulate you?" I found myself warming a to him, just a little bit. He greeted Jennifer with equal politeness, and Kim with affection, then waved his hand, which Kim took as a gesture of dismissal, leading Jennifer out of the room. Lo offered me a chair beside the low table, which I accepted. He sat down beside me and nodded to the aide, who withdrew, closing the door. From another door, a maid entered. "Tea?" asked Lo, "Indian or Chinese?" I replied that Chinese would be delightful in the circumstances, and Lo's smile widened.

We made small talk for a few minutes until the maid reappeared with the tea tray, and after she withdrew, Kim poured for me. He thanked me effusively for looking after Kim while he had been in Peking on business. I replied that she had been no trouble at all and I had been glad of the company she had provided for Jennifer. He was delighted that she had been good, and then fired a surprise shot; asking if she had managed to keep the bed dry. I responded that her bed had been perfectly dry all the time, and our eyes met.

"She has a little problem, sometimes. I am delighted that she seems to be overcoming it. I understand that you are something of an expert on the subject." I mentioned that she seemed to have a number of problems, and Lo's eyebrows rose in query. "I regret that I seldom have enough time to spend with my granddaughter due to the pressure of work. She seems to be very reticent in my company, even fearful of me. It appears that you have been very successful in gaining her confidence. Please enlighten me."

I licked my lip, and took the plunge, and told him about the child's fear of the nurse, about the beatings with a wooden paddle, about her loneliness and insecurity, and about her worries about what might become of her if anything happened to Lo. The smile progressively vanished from Lo's face as he listened intently, nodding at each point.

"I have had some difficulty with her," he admitted, "I did not approve of the marriage that my son made, it was outside the custom, and with a foreigner."

"A Gweilo!" I said, proud to be able to use one of my very, very few words of Chinese.

"I wouldn't put it as strongly as that!" said Lo, "It was just... a bit of a shock. My son was an only child; it was the law and the custom, and very valuable to me. Perhaps I was too strict with him, but he fled from me, and then returned with Mary, who was expecting his child. I wasn't as sensible as I should have been, and we got off - how do you say it? - on the wrong foot. Then, five years later they were both killed in an air crash, and I had this little girl to look after. She is the only family I have. I tried to bring her up in the Chinese way, but she has a full amount of her mother's fire in her, and can be most contrary. Since I was based in London it seemed like a good idea to send her to a good private school, and she seems to be happier there. She has told me how much it means to her to have been accepted into your family, and I cannot thank you enough for the way you have looked after her. As I said, she can be a difficult child, and prone to wet the bed at times when she is unhappy."

I decided to come clean about that one, and I told him about Jennifer's similar problem and how we handled it. I told him about Kim acting out of "solidarity", and his eyebrows went through the roof. He let loose some Chinese exclamation, and said "She would have torn me apart if I had suggested that! You mean she used them?"

"Either accidentally or deliberately. To save Jennifer's face. It could have been either, and I'm not asking."

"She is a remarkably clever little girl. It must be her Western background. They're cunning, these British!" He winked at me; I let it pass.

"She seems to be happy with them, and it seems to have taken the worries away from her. If she wets when she worries, and worries when she wets, anything which breaks that loop has got to help."

Lo was chuckling now. "Well if she feels that way, we might as well let her wear what she wants. I've tried everything else I can think of."

On the strength of the warming relationship I took another chance. "Has she had any contact with her mother's family?" I asked.

"I never got to know Mary that well. Her address book went with her in the aircraft. I had to leave it to the British embassy staff to find any next of kin she might have had."

"It might help if she knew of them; it would stop her feeling so isolated."

Lo nodded. "Unfortunately I have nothing to go on."

We moved on to my own family, and Lo steered the conversation to Peter and the war in Belize. I took another risk. I told him how happy I was when the Chinese carrier pulled back. He nodded vigorously, and then refilled my cup.

"People don't realise," he said as he poured, "that the big problem with China is keeping it all together. We try very hard to show a unified face to the world, as we know that any divisions will be exploited mercilessly - our history is full of that. But inside, we have factions and disputes, just as any other big country has factions and disputes. We have a Business faction, and a Military faction. We desperately need the tantalum. Some clever people in the West had formed a cartel and cornered the market, putting us on the rack. It gave the Military faction the advantage, and they came up with this silly idea of taking the Belizean reserves by force, using the Guatemalans as a proxy. We certainly need the tantalum, but we don't need a war to go with it. When you invited Kim to stay I took - what do you call it? - a long shot. A big risk. If I could feed intelligence back to Beijing, it just might give me more weight against the Military. I thought I had been incredibly lucky, and had Beijing eating out of my hand with the information I was giving them, until she told me that bit about the submarine. That was so unlikely that I realised she had been detected, and was feeding false information, but I passed it on, and they believed it. They believed it because they were predisposed to believe. Fortunately, at the same time, I was able to use the inside information to make some transactions in the commodities and derivatives markets to break the stranglehold of the cartel. Now I have secured supplies of tantalum to last several years ahead, and have given the Business faction in Beijing a great advantage over the Military. It has been a very good week for me, and I owe much of it to Kim - and to you." His face was quite animated now, obviously he was a man much happier with a subject he understood than with the apparently simple things of family life.

A knock at the door and a muffled burst of giggling announced the return of the children. Kim came in first, and her grandfather reached out and hugged her. She seemed quite surprised and delighted by this display of affection. Jennifer came over and sat beside me as Kim poured two more cups. "China tea!" I said to Jennifer in warning, and she picked it up and tasted it with great suspicion; she suppressed her reaction with remarkable tact. Kim chatted to her grandfather in a musical babble of Chinese until he corrected her and she reverted to English. Yes, she'd had a wonderful time, and yes, she'd been good. She's been up to the big old house and even tried on a judge's wig. I'd missed that and kicked myself; it would have made a wonderful picture. I noted a complete absence of any remarks about wetting, and I certainly wouldn't have mentioned it at that time. Jennifer sat beside me swinging her feet and eyeing the biscuits hungrily. Lo caught her eye and passed over the plate, and Jennifer, mindful of her manners, took two and thanked him politely.

The time came to leave. The autumn day was dying outside and we had a way to go. Lo escorted us to the door, and we took our leave. He looked past me and grinned. "They really know how to play the game!" he said, "but they make lousy window-cleaners. He's spent two hours doing that house!" I looked across the road. The same van was still parked there. Doubtless Simon would soon be told that I had left the house in one piece. I laughed, took my leave of Lo and Kim and held Jennifer's hand as we crossed the road. I took a close look at the window cleaner as we passed. Nice shoes. Clean overalls. Expensive haircut. Soft hands. One of Simon's friends.

I started to work my way down through the London traffic towards the bridge at Chelsea. Jennifer had occupied the front seat, a recent privilege for her. She told me about Kim's room in the huge house, and the strange toys she had. Lots of electronics, her own computer, but mostly some quite unusual dolls. I asked if she had seen the nurse. She had. "Sour-faced old woman" was her uncharitable comment. I told Jennifer about the conversation I had had with Lo, and that I didn't think he had known about the nurse beating Kim. Jennifer replied that she wouldn't get beaten for being wet last night as it had all been in her nappy and, anyway, the nurse wouldn't know anything about it. I said I didn't think she would be beaten again, and Jennifer said it wouldn't be for some nights at least, and then she would be back at school, where she very seldom wet. I asked he how she could be so sure. There was a moment of silence. Jennifer was building up her courage. "I gave her some of mine" she said, "enough to last the rest of the week." I nodded. An unlikely convert. Her grandfather would doubtless have an interesting conversation with Kim later. I suspected that the nurse would be the long-term loser of that one. "And I was dry this morning. Four nights in a row. It's a new record. And nobody noticed. Except me."

I corrected the omission immediately, and congratulated her. "That's very good. Now are you going to try for a fifth?"

There was a moment's pause. "Can I try a night without a nappy? I'm sure it would help."

"I think you need a bit more than four dry nights before we allow that."

"How many? Mum said she had to go three months. That's ages and ages."

"I don't think it was as long as that. I think I let her off after only one month."

"Could you let me off if I promised to stay dry?"

"The best laid schemes of mice and men oft gang agley" I replied.

"What does that mean? I'm not a man or a mouse."

"It means that whatever the best intentions you might have, you still might have an accident in bed. I think it should be your mother's decision."

"She won't let me. She never does. She says it doesn't do me any good to wake up in a wet bed, and she's not going to get up in the middle of every night to change all my sheets."

"Well see if you can stay dry for the next few nights. Then she'll be back and she should be in a very good mood and you can tell her that. She might even agree. It's up to you."

"Will you support me?"

"I always support you - even when I change your wet nappies - but it's her decision"

As we passed over Chelsea bridge I turned the radio on the catch the news. The Guatemalan Kaibiles had withdrawn from the Belizean capital and were escaping unopposed across the border back to their own country. The Belizean Defence Force was marching back into the city, supported by British troops. Then right at the end of the news there was an item about a British submarine entering San Diego on a courtesy visit. I sucked my teeth. You are a very, very clever man, Simon French, but you owe me a favour, and I am going to claim it.

[dyperaby]

I have been following "Phone Conversation" from the first and look forward each week for the next episode. The plot is interesting and well written. I hope you continue to entertain us with your writing.

[freswith]

Thank you for the feedback. I apologise for the lateness of this week's episode, the delay caused by a mass of distractions, and a dose of writer's block. Anyway, here it comes!

[freswith]

Holly's Return

Sally was very pleased to see me back; she had visions of me having been spirited off to China in a tin trunk. I told her all about it over tea, and then I called Simon's number in Washington to report the outcome of the meeting. He took an acute interest in Lo's comments about the various Chinese factions and then I asked, or rather demanded, the favour. He stalled and twisted, but I kept the pressure on until he agreed. Then I asked him when he would be sending my daughter back to me. He replied that it might be convenient to keep the press away from them for another day or two when things might become clearer, but just at the moment he thought it better that they didn't get asked any awkward questions. I chided him that there couldn't be anything she knew about that might be important, but he begged to disagree, and told me he would tell me later. I'd been with the Navy long enough to know not to ask too much when such things were said to me.

I told Jennifer that her parents would be away for few more days, and she took it quite cheerfully. She said that she wanted to be able to tell her mother that she was now dry and didn't need nappies at night. I replied that Holly had better stay away for another month at least, at which Jennifer wrinkled her nose and snorted.

With that in mind I checked on Rupert's nether regions, but Sally had been very attentive and he was dry and comfortable. Once again I was very thankful for Sally having taken the time off college, but I realised she would have to go back sometime, and I was coming to dread the job of looking after the two boisterous children unaided, and I realised that I simply wasn't getting any younger. I decided to speak directly to Holly at the next opportunity and see if I could get her home.

As it happened, I didn't get Holly back until the following Tuesday, and I still didn't understand Simon's actions. I picked Jennifer up from school that afternoon, and had a few words with Kim at the gateway. She thanked me again for looking after her, and I asked how things stood with regard to her nurse, and had she been beaten again. Kim smiled, and said that the nurse had left the house permanently, shortly after my meeting with Lo, and Kim had been looking after herself and spending much more time with her grandfather since then.

Jennifer tumbled into the back of the car and immediately asked after her parents. I told her that if the flight had arrived on time it would land in about an hour's time, and she could expect her parents to reappear in a two or three hours from now. Her enthusiasm infected Rupert who started to ask incessantly if his parents were back yet. I despaired of trying to explain to a two-year-old what three hours consisted of: an instant to me but an age to him.

Each morning Jennifer had been dry, and I listened to the mounting record of dryness and responded with measured encouragement. Since Sally had returned to college I had left the whole matter entirely to Jennifer, and she had reacted responsibly, only querying what she should do with the unwetted nappies each morning. I told her to throw them away, since I didn't trust the tapes to hold for a second whole night, and I had the feeling that once the current bag of nappies was finished, it would not need to be replaced. That would be the opportunity for Jennifer to raise the matter with her mother, and I looked forward to supporting my granddaughter when she pleaded her case. I didn't tell her this, as I didn't want to raise her expectations or excite her to the point where she might resume wetting the bed.

I now trusted Jennifer to change Rupert's nappies, a chore at which she quickly became expert, and in which she appeared to take a certain pleasure; it certainly seemed to add to her deficient but growing self-confidence. Rupert didn't bat an eyelid at being subjected to the boring indignity by his sister, and actually appeared to be delighted by all the extra attention he had been getting. I was quite happy with the arrangement; coping with an adventurous two-year old was proving quite enough for me, and I began to look forward to returning him to his mother.

I was making tea for the children and half-listening to the radio when the news came on. Belize had been slipping down the priority list of headlines as the territory had been secured and the necessary rebuilding commenced. The Queen Elizabeth was expected to leave the area soon, leaving the matter to the greatly reinforced garrison. However, the first item on the news was from Guatemala, where there had been a successful army coup, and the blustering Ronyoso had fled into exile as the tanks encircled the Presidential Palace. My ears only pricked when I heard the name of the new president - Jorge Alvarado - an elder statesman recalled from retirement. There were the usual promises of elections to come and appeals to remain calm.

Amelia rang to tell me about her wayward girls. She had been presented with the portfolio of photographs and had been horrified by them. "Even I haven't seen my daughters like that since they got out of nappies!" she wailed. She had had to buy the rights from the photographer, and the cost hadn't just been financial. She had had to promise to offer him regular work, something she had been anxious to avoid because of his reputation. "I mean, some of those photographs were really good, there's nothing wrong with the chap technically, but I really don't want Grace to be associated with him - he's too well-known for doing porn."

I commiserated, and tried to reassure her. It didn't really work. She had pair of stunning identical twins who would have little difficulty in making their way in the modelling business and they had simply outflanked her. She was now left with little choice but to see that the job was done properly and under her supervision. After a while Amelia calmed down and I was able to encourage her to see the positive side. She had always been under a bit of a cloud after she dropped out of college herself to take up a modelling career, and was anxious that her daughters shouldn't repeat the same mistake. I mentioned that I had never been able to make use of my degree, and Vickie had preferred the motherhood route, but it still took a long time to soothe her.

No sooner had I put the phone down than Simon rang to ask if Holly was back yet. I told him that the flight had been on time but she hadn't arrived here. He asked me if I had heard the news about the coup in Guatemala. He then told me that Jorge Alvarado had indeed looked after Holly and Stuart, but the problem had been that he was a cousin of President Sanchez, and the matter had had to be kept secret until he was safely in the Presidential Palace, which was why he had waylaid Holly and Stuart for a few days to keep them away from the Press, as any mention of this might have prejudiced the planned coup. Peter had been ordered not to impede the withdrawal of the Kaibiles along the single narrow road back to Guatemala, since they were needed as the mainstay of the operation under their colonel, Alvarado's son. The penny finally dropped. The US had taken the opportunity to replace a maverick politician with someone who could be trusted by the White House - a stooge, if you like. At least, in return, Guatemala now had a very special relationship with the US. I was still taking it in when Simon gave me some information more relevant to me. He had located the various sisters of Kim's mother, and he was emailing me the details. One of them was living within a few miles of me. I thanked Simon on Kim's behalf and assured him she would now have the reward she wanted most of all.

After tea I gave Rupert his bath and got him ready for bed. I couldn't be sure of what time Holly and Stuart would arrive. I was just fastening the poppers on the legs of his sleeper when the phone rang yet again. It was Holly from the airport. The flight had been late, and they would be down in about an hour and a half. I asked if they wanted to pick up the children that night, and Holly was emphatic that they would, but asked me if they could be bathed and nappied so they could be picked up and taken straight back to bed at home with minimum fuss. I agreed cheerfully; I could see that Holly would be desperate to see her children safe at home after all the excitement, and could sympathise with her hoping to avoid the usual bath time fuss after her long flight across the Atlantic. I also told her that I would have some supper ready for them, reasoning that they wouldn't want to cook either. My reasoning was not entirely unselfish; it would also give me some time to hear all about their unusual holiday. I passed the phone onto Jennifer, who was hopping from foot to foot in her excitement, and went to find where Rupert had waddled off to while I had been talking. I retrieved him from the head of the stairs in the nick of time and carried him back to his bed, ignoring his shrill protests.

After Jennifer had finished on the phone I told her what Holly had said about getting ready for bed. She objected sharply, saying it was too early, but I reasoned that she didn't actually have to be in bed, merely ready for it, and could then stay up to have supper with her parents. With this she agreed, and went off to have her bath. I went to start the supper, and returned as Jennifer was leaving the bathroom. I put out her one-piece sleeper, reasoning that this was the best way to dress for the journey home and immediate bed after supper, but Jennifer wrinkled her nose, saying "I'll still have to take it off again at the other end to get my nappy on."

"Your mum did ask me to have you ready for bed when she arrived, and she did say nappied." I replied, taking a fresh one from the bag.

"Oh, she just meant Rupert."

"No, Rupert's still in nappies all the time anyway. She wouldn't have had to say that. It's automatic. She must have said it because she specifically meant you were to have your nappy on."

"Oh Gran, I really don't think so. It's early, and I really don't need it."

My shoulders slumped. I really didn't want to have an argument now. I told her so. "Let's not have your parents come home to a scene. Just this once. For me. For both of us."

"Mum said you'd try to keep me in nappies the whole time." she countered. That riposte went in deeper than she could ever have known. It took me right back to my own Gran. She had been a bit of a tartar about that. Modern parenting be damned! I now knew why she had felt like that.

"I'd really like it if you weren't in nappies at all, you know that."

"But you won't let me try a night without one, even though I've been dry for a whole week now."

"We've discussed that. You've done very well, and I'll tell your mother. However, a week is hardly enough, but it's your mother's decision. I'm sorry Jenny, but you're still in nappies at night. That's the rule. And this is night."

It was Jennifer's turn to let her shoulder's slump. "If I'm in a nappy all that time, I'll be more likely to wet it. I'll need to before morning." Good point!

"Don't you ever get up in the night and use the toilet?" I looked hard at her. Just for a second I saw a worried, sheepish glint in her eye. I recognised the situation. "Or do you just lie there and have a pee in your nappy because it's less trouble." The same sheepish look. Now for the shaft. "...like I used to do sometimes."

Suddenly Jennifer looked up sharply. Got Her! "You mean you used to do that?" she said sharply. Suddenly we were on the same wavelength. I nodded.

I dropped my voice to a whisper in order to preserve confidentiality. "Sometimes It's better than all the fuss of getting up, crossing the cold bathroom floor, taking the nappy down and using the loo, then putting the nappy back on properly.... Isn't it?"

Slowly we both began to grin. She said nothing, but eventually she nodded. "And it was a lot worse in my day with those old cloth nappies and pins and pants and all. You've discovered that as well haven't you? When you had to wear one last week."

She laughed. "They're weird! However did you put up with them?"

"No choice. The early disposable ones leaked, especially at night. Cloth ones only do that very rarely. I just did what Mum wanted. And when I really, really wanted to get dry, it was actually very easy."

"I really, really want to get dry!"

"I think you are already. It's just a case of proving it to your mother."

"Will you back me?"

"Of course. There's still about twenty nappies in the bag. When they get near the end we should be able to persuade her that she doesn't need to buy any more."

"Eighteen." she said. "I counted them. Are you really going to back me?"

"Of course I will. That's what Grannies are supposed to do. Now come on, Hup! Before your mother gets here!"

I opened the nappy on the bed, Jennifer disposed of her towel, and sat herself down on it. The ointment was applied, the tapes slapped closed and burnished down, and I helped her into her sleeper. I had just pulled the zip up to the top when the doorbell rang.

[freswith]

Peter's K

There was no containing Jennifer's delight at her parents' return, and it was some minutes before order was re-established and I was able to take a good look at my daughter and her husband. What suntan they might have managed to acquire had faded during their few days in Washington, but otherwise they appeared perfectly healthy, and I felt greatly relieved to see them back. Stuart took over the job of calming Jennifer down while Holly made a quick check on the soundly-sleeping Rupert, and then rejoined us in the dining room where I had laid a simple meal. There was obviously no hope of getting Jennifer to bed, and I hadn't got the heart to remind her that she had school tomorrow, so I let Holly and Stuart tell their story over supper. They told of being stopped by troops on the main road, and penned in a hotel foyer with all the other tourists. She told that one of the tourists had let slip that she was the daughter of the British Admiral, and of their immediate interrogation by Colonel Alvarado. She told of the air strikes that seemed to all be aimed directly at them, that he himself seemed to be frightened when the jets arrived, and that the situation was starting to unravel with officers shouting and arguing with each other. She had seen Ronyoso bawling out Alvarado, and had been greatly relieved when Alvarado decided to get them all over the border into the relative safety of Guatemala. She told of the old-world charm of Alvarado's father, a centre of calm in a sea of chaos, and his unexpected gesture of returning her mobile phone. She told of the near-panic when the Americans arrived, and of the long and noisy flight in the transport aircraft all the way to Texas. She said that when they finally got to Heathrow the press were waiting for them and they had the very devil of a job getting away. Simon had briefed them not to say anything at all about the Alvarados, and they had managed to brush the reporters off with inessentials.

It was now getting later and later, so I suggested that they stayed with me for the night to save moving two tired children back into a cold house, and they accepted my invitation gratefully. Holly came down to earth and remembered that it was way past Jennifer's bedtime. The usual protests ensued, and were, as usual, overruled. Jennifer was driven gently upstairs with a pat on her rustling rear, and the last I heard was her sharp rejection of Holly's offer of a change. Stuart helped me clear up the supper things, and he was able to reassure me quietly about the state of their marriage. I had already heard it from Holly, but the confirmation was still very welcome. Eventually Holly rejoined us, and declined my offer of a coffee in favour of a small brandy; she said that coffee would only keep her awake with the jet-lag as well. She then asked me about Jennifer's claims of dryness, and I was able to confirm her proud achievements. Holly nodded sagely, and said that it was something she would really like to see for herself; she was doubtful of Jennifer's insistent claims that she was now completely dry. I reminded Holly gently of her own experience, and she started to come down off her high horse a little when reminded of the details. I reminded her of the day I told her that she didn't have to wear nappies any longer and at that she started to mellow. Eventually I got her to agree, provided Jennifer remained dry, that would indeed be the last bag of nappies.

I was finally on my way to bed when Peter called. He said he would be bringing the Queen Elizabeth back home now, as the job was done, and nobody could deny that she had been very thoroughly worked up to a high state of efficiency. He was delighted and relieved to hear that Holly and Stuart had returned home and were out of harm's way. He said that next time they decided to go away on holiday he would like a bit more notice of the destination so he could position a carrier accordingly. I told him not to dally on his return as the roses would need pruning before the sap started to rise again, and with that I went contentedly to bed.

The following morning I offered to take Jennifer to school, as Holly busied herself packing the children's things into the car for their return home. I also wished to have a few words with Kim if I could. I found her waiting at the gate for Jennifer, and there was just time to tell her that I had found her aunts before they had to go in. I was delighted by her reaction, and by the way she skipped off into school with Jennifer. Jennifer wasn't quite so sprightly. It had been a late night. At least, for her, it had been another dry one.

I returned to find Stuart and Holly packing the children's things into their car, and we were able to switch the child seats over. Rupert was clinging tightly to his mother's skirt, determined that he wouldn't be left behind again. If the problems had been beyond his understanding, he had certainly been aware of the atmosphere of tension during the last week or so, and was very pleased indeed to have his mother back. I waved goodbye to them as they drove off homewards and went inside to find an oppressive silence. No Children. No Grandchildren. I suddenly realised how Gran must have felt all alone in Pembroke while Granpa was away. I took a deep breath. The best cure for all that was activity, and so I went up to strip the beds, to find that Holly had already done it. I went to wash up the breakfast things to find that Stuart had already done it. He had even put them away. I hoped for a moment that he was really a reformed character, but then my natural cynicism told me that it probably wouldn't last.

Still, I had one delicate job to do. I called Kim's rediscovered Aunt Siobhan, introduced myself and gave her the news about Kim. It took a little while to make her believe me, but when she did, she was delighted to find that Kim was still alive. She had been told that she had perished in the air crash with her parents, and I was able to tell her that, as of half an hour ago, Kim was hale and hearty. We agreed to meet that afternoon, and to exchange our stories. So it was that we arrived at the school gate with the other mothers, including a rather surprised Holly, in time to meet the children as they tumbled out. Kim came bouncing over to me with a greeting, and then stopped open-mouthed as she saw the woman next to me.

"Kim? Is it really you?" said Siobhan.

Kim stepped forward, her mouth moving two or three times before sound emerged.

"Aunt Sh..."

"Siobhan! My! Kim, how you've grown! We all thought you'd been killed in the crash!" replied Siobhan, somewhat tactlessly.

"No...I..." and the rest was muffled as she was wrapped in Siobhan's arms.

I turned towards Holly. Charming though the scene was, I didn't want to intrude.

"Congratulations!" she said.

"Oh, this... this was mostly Simon's doing. You know how they have databases of everyone..."

"No.... Haven't you heard? It's just been on the radio. They've finally given Dad his knighthood. He's Sir Peter now, ...and so you're Lady Simmonds!"

Well, it was half a surprise. Only to be expected I suppose. Lo had said it was coming, although I'd put it down to his flattery. Nice just the same. I was now equal with Gran, and the second K in the family in recent generations. "Let's see if the old adage is true, and it'll get a table for us in the tea shop. It's got to be good for something!"

"Will you be able to afford the tip, though?" replied the ever-practical Holly.

"I'll use plastic. On Peter's account. Serve him right - I'm sure he won't mind!"

Kim begged leave from her housemistress, which was readily granted, and we trooped off to the tea shop on the corner. They did have room for us, and while it wasn't quite the way I'd expected to celebrate it, with children there we didn't have much choice. It certainly went well, and the chatter went round and round the table to Siobhan's bemusement. I hadn't told her what my husband did for a living and it took a little while for her to cotton on, and even more so when Kim and Holly started in on the details which I thought were still supposed to be secret. I just hoped to God that she wasn't a journalist - it would have been the scoop of the century.

I returned home feeling rather tired but very satisfied. I passed the rosebushes and thought with pleasure that Peter would soon be home to prune them, and to do all the other little jobs that I had lined up for him. No more Navy. No more sea. Just the two of us. Peace and quiet. And a social life. Perhaps it was time to get a dog: Long walks, a presence in the house, and a welcome home. I had hardly closed the front door when the phone rang: Mum and Dad. Then it rang again: Uncle Percy. Then it rang again: Vickie and Simon. Then Emma. Then Sally, complaining that my phone had been engaged for an hour. Then finally, all the way from Vancouver, my errant son Jack phoned. The word had really got around, and the house no longer seemed so empty. Bugger peace and quiet! It was always such a bore!

[alex 04]

thanks for the new chapter hope for more soon

[freswith]

Many thanks; I fear we are getting to the end of this particular story, but I'll try to think up some more situations for my characters.

In total it has reached just over 135,000 words - about twice the length of a normal novel. I've got an emailable version if you'd like it.

[jbz2079]

Wow , Bravo!

Thanks again freswith, I've thoroughly enjoyed this story from the start, has been great to read and always entertaining.

I just hope when you have finnished this one, you have the energy to write another. Thanks again, JBZ.

[alex 04]

Many thanks; I fear we are getting to the end of this particular story, but I'll try to think up some more situations for my characters.

In total it has reached just over 135,000 words - about twice the length of a normal novel. I've got an emailable version if you'd like it.

cant wait for new story hope its soon

[freswith]

I'll finish off Juliet's tale this weekend, and then start telling Vickie's story next week.

[alex 04]

I'll finish off Juliet's tale this weekend, and then start telling Vickie's story next week.

am sad that the juliets story will end now but cant wait to read the new story soon

[freswith]

We'll be seeing a lot more of Juliet!

(Drop me an email and I'll let you have a draft.)

[Pollyanna Fleshman]

I, too, will be sad when this tale ends, but i"m glad that you will be continuing the story line with those same characters. I grew to know them so well. It is as if I'm watching the generations grow and go by.

[freswith]

The Admiral's Lady

As I walked to the car I cast an eye over my rose bushes, bare and forlorn in the sparse December daylight. They really needed pruning. It was a job I had reserved for Peter in his retirement, as there are few people who can do it well. It was a job I actually enjoyed, soothing, creative, and carrying the promise of the spring to come, but I wanted Peter to do it. His retirement was now imminent, and I was looking forward to having the whole of my man to myself without having to share him with the Queen, or, I corrected myself, the present King. Beyond the roses Holly and her family awaited me. I spent the minimum time in my inspection of them, as it was cold, but I bent down to speak to Jennifer.

"Will you be able to manage, Dear? Have you got some protection on?"

"Yes, Gran, I can manage. And No! I don't need those any more!" she said with a frown of contempt.

"It's going to be cold, you know, and we'll be waiting for quite a long time."

"I can manage!" replied the little girl firmly. I nodded. Holly had told me that she had finally taken Jennifer out of nappies at night, and I just wanted to give Jennifer a chance to trumpet her achievement. I winked at her and passed on to where Sally was holding the car door open for me. The passenger door. Today Sally had insisted on driving, and I'd lost the battle. She said I should be able to sit and talk to Peter, but I knew she really meant I could also enjoy the traditional naval generosity that could be expected at the other end. I didn't object to that, and would be quite pleased to enjoy Peter's company without distraction, but resented the cosseting. It wasn't as though I should be treated as an old lady yet!

I kept an eye on Stuart's car behind me as we drove in convoy to Portsmouth. I was expecting the usual tussle to find a place in the car park, but Hal was waiting for us and directed us to reserved places; it's always good to have a man on the inside. Once inside, Malcolm, the Flag Officer Portsmouth, greeted us warmly - I was still getting used to being addressed as Lady Simmonds - and led me to a chair himself, The rest of the family arranged themselves behind. With a glass of sherry in my hand I now had some time to chat to Malcolm as we watched the Queen Elizabeth nosing her way up Spithead. Huge ships will not be hurried, and the plethora of smaller escorting vessels should really not be run down. We got onto the subject of gardens, and I told him how much I was looking forward to Peter's retirement and how I'd enjoy his help in the garden when Malcolm suddenly went silent for an awkward moment.

"Come on Malcolm, spill! What is it?"

"You haven't heard?" He said softly, "About Sir David?". I denied all knowledge about Peter's colleague. "He's had a minor heart attack, and the doctors have told him to retire."

"That's absolutely rotten luck! Is he going to be alright?"

"Oh yes, if he takes things gently. It leaves a hole at the top, though. He was due to take over in three months, and now that's all in doubt now." I felt the trouble rising, like a small child claiming it wasn't his fault, but... "Peter's almost certainly going to be offered the job now."

I took my time, and a small sip of sherry. The thoughts tumbled in my head. Chief of Naval Staff. No retirement. Not for another three years. More work for Peter. Long hours. More of that social circus. More tailors' bills (more money too, but we really didn't need it.) Much less of Peter for me. The Que...the King had won again. I was just about to utter my ultimate and damning veto, and for once I felt I'd earned it, when a scent of old leather reached my nostrils. There are few things so evocative of memory as a smell, and that was always the smell of Granpa. I could feel a shadow behind my shoulder where I knew no-one was standing, but the presence was unmistakeable. I swallowed the sherry "That would be very nice." I said. And I almost felt I meant it.

I had long felt that I was competing for Peter's affections with another woman, the Queen, whether in the flesh or her present steel incarnation. Now the matter was being resolved.

The Queen Elizabeth came alongside the jetty as the Marine band thumped out Hearts of Oak. Lines were thrown and hawsers passed, and she came to a halt. After what seemed like an age, the brow was passed over, and people began to move between ship and shore. Malcolm went out to the foot of the brow and there were a row of gold braided caps coming down from the ship. I strained my eyes to see Peter, who was a little taller than most and now silver-haired. He came down the brow to a flurry of salutes and the party came over towards the room in which we were. I feasted my eyes on my husband, so tall and handsome in his uniform, and it took me back to all the other times I had greeted him. The tingle was still there, and became a jangle as we embraced.

Holly and Sally were next in line for hugs, and then little Jennifer. I noticed Peter whispering something in Jennifer's ear but I couldn't catch it. Jennifer nodded vigorously, and I was sure I didn't need to hear. There had been only one victory on her mind for the past month.

I stayed close by Peter's side as he circulated. I was determined not to let him out of my sight, although actually handcuffing him to me would have been a bit obvious. Eventually, after a round of greetings, interviews, speeches and traditional naval beverages, we managed to get back to the car. After Peter had installed himself with appropriate dignity, carefully positioning Granpa's old sword so it wouldn't be damaged, I whispered in his ear that he could have anything he wanted - but only after he'd pruned the roses.

We arrived home with the last of the light. As we walked up to the house I looked once more at my straggling rosebushes, and gave a deep sigh. I squeezed Peter's hand, and said; "Sod the Bloody Roses!" and led him inside.

(Vickie's story starts next week!)

[BulkLover]

An absolutely awesome story. Thank you, thank you, and once again thank you.

Just one thing you might want to correct:

carefully positioning Granpa's old sword so it would be damaged

I think "wouldn't" would be more appropriate here