Notebooks of the Young Wife by Tara Black Page A

point.’
    She flashed me a smile that demolished any defences I had left, and touched my arm. ‘Look, Jane, call in on me in the workshop. Anytime, I’m usually alone there. I mean, don’t get the wrong idea – I play both ways. Especially if there’s a cane about the place.’
    ‘So do I, Ama, so do I. And you may expect a visit.’ I watched her go, head a-whirl with the adrenaline rush of a sudden proposition no less suddenly accepted. The blue cotton of her boiler suit clung to the curve of the hips and the buttocks bounced enticingly as she walked across the yard. And the c-word had been placed very deliberately on the table. Only after the goddess had disappeared completely from view did I become earthbound enough to turn and head slowly away in the opposite direction.
    Back in the study I found the subject of our conversation sitting with his tousled head in hands. A pose, possibly, for the benefit of my entrance, but suddenly I felt for the strange creature we’d been discussing. He was down in the dumps after a search that had borne no fruit and I pulled him gently to his feet.
    ‘Let’s see the state of you.’ I eased down his trousers and turned his backside to the desk lamp. There were a couple of faint dark smudges but otherwise no ill effects of cook’s heavy hand. ‘You’ll do, my lad,’ I said, noting the semi-erection my inspection had produced, ‘and don’t fret. We’ll think of something. Of course it would have helped if you’d seen where the things were kept, but we can deal with that lapse at the end of the day. And if you could find something like a leather paddle – to save my hand – that would put you right back in my good books.’ At these words the cock had become its fine upstanding self and I gave his bottom a slap.
    ‘Put that thing away, boy, and go and get some lunch,’ I ordered. ‘You may report to me later.’
    ‘Yes, Miss.’ With the cheeky grin back in place he made for the door while I sat in the desk chair and tried to get the brain working. I’d not foreseen the diversions that would be on offer within the confines of a secluded country house, albeit one with an extensive collection of old pornography. In less than twenty-four hours I had been publicly birched, drawn into the spanking ‘n’ wanking games of a teenage lad, and after frolicking with a maid half the night been given an s/m come-on by the beautiful mechanic. No doubt an uncertain future had something to do with the frenetic living for the moment, but that didn’t make it any less distracting. Not that I was actually complaining...
    Suddenly there was a raucous brrr-brrr-brrr ! that brought me to myself with a start. The noise was coming from the black telephone receiver I’d marked down as a museum piece, and I grabbed it before it went off again. When I said hello a voice said, ‘Incoming call, I’ll put you through,’ and there was Samantha on the line.
    ‘Jane, is that you? I wanted to tell you at once that the books are splendid. Absolutely top notch. To find such explicit dealings between women from such an early period is a real tonic. So the deal is on, my dear, if you are still so minded. I gather from your assistant – such a comely girl! – there may be some half-dozen more titles for us, and then the rest is yours.’
    ‘That’s very good, I’m glad you’re pleased. And whatever Tamsin said goes.’ I wondered briefly if Samantha had acted in any way on the PA’s ‘comeliness’ before she went on to give me news that took my full attention. Apparently the debts Sir Montague left behind were much greater than initially supposed and the sale of the house itself would be required to settle them. With some good fortune a very distant but very wealthy cousin had been found in the US: a Southern patriarch keen to inspect a possible family seat, and in all likelihood sooner rather than later. Since a library of antique (if pornographic) books would no doubt be seen as a