Strangeways to Oldham by Andrea Frazer Page A

put you off, old thing?’ Hugo was interested now.
    â€˜Some boy or other – I can’t remember who he was, now – took me outside for a walk by moonlight, and the bounder grabbed me round the waist and kissed me full on the mouth, and actually stuck his tongue down my throat. I was so disgusted I threw up in a rose bush, so I never went for a “walk” again. Gardens contain too many dangerous things, like shrubberies and summer-houses. I really can’t be doing with anything wet and sticky, unless it’s called “pudding”.
    â€˜What about you, Hugo? I never fell for that old rot about not taking the chance on having your name lengthened again. That sort of tosh simply won’t wash with me. That was a load of old cow poo; a load of doggy-doodles. Out with it! What was the real reason?’
    â€˜Same sort of thing, really. I was taken outside by a girl, and she kissed me, and put my hand … somewhere about her person, and I nearly passed out. I’m with you on that one.
    â€˜We danced together at a ball once, didn’t we?’
    â€˜I do believe we did. And at one time, I had a tiny crush on you, Hugo – when you used to visit, in the school holidays. ‘
    â€˜Never!’
    â€˜I did. And then I took that ill-fated “walk” in the garden, and I decided I was finished with the opposite sex. Everything’s so untidy and undignified in human relationships, and I didn’t want to have any part in that sort of thing.’
    â€˜Good for you, Manda. I felt absolutely the same about it. Changing the subject somewhat – we’ve got so much to catch up on, haven’t we? Did you have a good time at school? I didn’t. I was always being bullied for being, what they call nowadays, a bit of a wimp.’
    â€˜Oh, I had a shocking time. I was sent somewhere up north, to be educated along with the lumpen daughters of the aristocratic sod – and right sods they were too – please excuse my language.’
    â€˜Don’t mention it,’ remarked Hugo politely.
    â€˜Horrible little beasts they were. Always going on about their ponies, and the gymkhanas they’d ridden in. And when they found out where I came from, they gave me no peace. Separated Belchester into “Belch” and “ester”, and from then on, I was known as Windy Esther. Sadistic little sods they were. Children can be so cruel! It was such a relief to come home for the holidays, to some civilised company.’
    â€˜I notice you don’t use much of the house, nowadays, do you, Manda?’
    â€˜Most of it’s locked up; the furniture all dust-sheeted. Why?’
    â€˜Well, I wonder you don’t open it to the public. It’d give you a real purpose in life, and it would bring in a few extra shekels.’
    â€˜I’ve thought about it from time to time, but it all seems a bit too much like hard work.’
    â€˜Well, there are two of us, now. Maybe it’s something we can organise together.’
    â€˜Not until you’ve had all your treatment and are a bit more mobile, Hugo. If we tried it now, I’d be the one doing all the running around, and you’d be almost chair-bound.’
    â€˜True, but it’s something to consider for the future, what?’
    â€˜Maybe!’
    After luncheon, they donned their wet weather gear, to venture out to visit Enid Tweedie, to see if she’d managed to gather any useful information with reference to identifying old Reggie’s mystery visitor. Rain still fell from the sky in torrents, and Lady Amanda rather hoped that it would clear up before the morrow, for there was nothing more likely to induce a deep depression, than standing by a muddy graveside in the rain, forced to contemplate one’s own mortality.
    The home smelt of boiled Brussels sprouts today, or at least, that’s what Lady Amanda hoped it was! They found Enid sitting