Part 6. The Cat that got the Cream
Andy was becoming slowly resigned to his fate until Jane led him on to the back terrace. Nerves struck again. Jane said they would pick-up Chantelle on the way. And he would sit on the back seat with her. It would a nice surprise for her. They would be nice and cosy together.
“But I thought you were driving the Tesla today!” he exclaimed.
“I was but that was for business. We’re going in the Porsche this evening. You Dress for Success, you Drive for Style.”
He knew there was hardly any room in the back of the 980. He and Chantelle would be squeezed together. At least there were tinted windows. Still he tried to resist: “You go. I’ll stay here and finish my dusting.”
Jane gripped him firmly by the wrist to prevent any silly struggles or attempts to run back to the Hall. “If you can’t be trusted on your own Andrew, you are going to have to come with me, aren’t you?”
“No, please Aunt Jane, not like this,” he implored her.
“Andrew, stop this silliness.” Jane paused and turned to him. He was quivering with fear. “When we get to Chantelle’s, I will expect you to get out, go to the door and bring her to the car. Is that clear?”
“Can’t you do it Auntie, please? I can just slide into the back.” He hoped he would be able to avoid getting out of the car by sliding between the driver and passenger seat into the rear. It would be a horribly tight squeeze and he was frightened that his heels might damage the leather. “I really don’t want to be seen by the neighbours.” Tinted windows might protect him during the journey but a classic Carrera GT parked outside Chantelle’s was sure to get the curtains twitching.
“Don’t be silly, darling. I don’t keep a maid to bark myself. And she is your girlfriend.”
“She’s not my girlfriend,” he protested yet again.
“Have it your way,” she said, “but I will come to the front door with you.”
She was still holding his wrist as she spoke to him: “Now Andrew, tell me what you are going to say to Chantelle.”
“Do I have to?” Really?”
“Yes, darling. You do. You need to be prepared. You disobeyed me and that will not do. Think of this as your punishment. A nice punishment. I haven’t put you in the Utility with Fifi this time, have I?” Though she had been tempted. He did look so good in his white latex catsuit waggling his little tail. And he did look so sweet on all fours.
“No, Auntie.”
“Or in the Basement?” Leaving him trussed in the Basement was always helpful when she needed some peace and quiet to work, and didn’t want the noise of his hoovering disturbing her. But given his plans to meet with Will, he’d probably enjoy the reward of being gagged too much. No, this was the best punishment for a naughty maid who wanted to go out without her permission.
“No, Auntie.”
“That’s right, I haven’t. Instead you’re in one of your lovely dresses and a nice pair of heels looking as pretty as pretty can be. And you’re going out with me, tonight. Is that really a punishment?”
Tears started to well in Andy’s eyes. “No, Auntie. I love being with you Auntie. I only wanted to meet with Will because I thought we couldn’t have our evening together.”
“So what will you say?” If he only knew it, Jane’s heart was melting at the sight of him in front of her with his moist eyes and trembling glossy red lips. She wanted to pick him up and kiss him there and then, but they’d gone so far, she needed to hear what he was going to say.
Andy paused. He gathered himself, trying to compose the words in his head. He started, trying not to gabble, “When she opens the door, I will say, ‘Hello Chantelle. I’m Andy. It’s really nice to meet you. I’m so pleased you want to meet. And this is my Aunt Jane, or should I say Lady Jane Fullerton-Jones.” He halted again to collect his thoughts. “…You may have heard of her. She’s the lady who lives in the big house.” And then he blurted, “As you can see, I’m her maid. At least I’m her maid in my spare time. I love being her maid. She’s my chaperone for the night and also my date. If you would like to come too, you’ll be very welcome but I’m with my Auntie.” And then jabbered quickly, “I adore my Aunt Jane and do anything she asks.’”
Jane was touched. If her heart had been melting before, now it was pounding. “Oh Andrew. That was quite a speech. I’m so touched. I love you too. You are a silly thing, Andrew. I don’t want to be a grumpy Aunt Jane.”
“Please, Aunt Jane. Please, please, please no. I’m sorry,” he pleaded.
“I love you so much but you need to be a good boy and be pretty for me.”
“I’m so sorry Auntie Jane, truly I am,” and the first tear started to trickle from his eye.
“I know you are, sweetheart,” and she pulled him towards her and kissed her fragile butterfly of a boy. He was so gentle and sweet. It was a closed, dry kiss, but her lips lingered.
He waited for the taste of her lipstick. Then he panicked. What if the gardener saw? What if neighbours saw? What if a hiker saw. The gates to the Hall might be closed but there was a public footpath across the back of the Estate.
She saw the look in his eyes and checked the path. While he was still worrying, she took both his wrists and pushed them behind his back. She held him close, his arms pinioned behind him. Then she kissed him again and he realised her mouth was slightly open. Their tongues met. He was lost. He was hers. Why had he ever thought about trying to find his old clothes?
“Now run along back inside before anyone sees you.”
“But what about Chantelle?” he asked, suddenly concerned, as they walked back towards the Hall. “What about the arrangement with Will?”
“Oh that! I said you couldn’t meet with her. You’d forgotten about needing to help me.”
“You mean, I was never going to meet Chantelle.”
“Not tonight.” He felt his hand reach for hers and grip it. Jane was touched. He wanted to hold his Auntie’s hand. “We do still have a booking for Kindling, though. Except for the late sitting. Would you like to go?”
“Yes, Auntie. If I can be with you. But what will I wear?”
“Whatever, you want sweetheart.”
Then it was Andy’s turn to halt and look at his Aunt. “I’m not sure about the maid’s dress, Auntie.”
“I know, darling. Not yet.”
He looked up at her, his liquid blue eyes full of longing. “Good, but can I wear my Dolly Altas and borrow your tan PVC pants, please? And maybe a nice blouse and one of your Chanel jackets?”
“Yes, honey. Of course. Your pants will match my skirt so well. If you’re sure.”
“Yes, I’m sure.”
“And your earrings? Will you want your diamond studs?”
“No Auntie, I think I’ll stay in my hoops. I was wondering about a little collar too.”
“Which one, honey? The black leather one that says ‘BOY’ in steel studs, or the new one I got you: the pink one like Fifi’s that says ‘SISSY BOY’.”
“I was thinking the one that says ‘BOY’. I don't want the restaurant staff or customers getting confused.”
“Oh, honey, you’re so sweet. And she kissed him again. She’d have the fun of dressing
him again. This time he would wear his Hummingbird. And if he was wearing his hoops, he should wear false eyelashes too. She fancied some butterfly kisses when he fluttered his eyelashes
Maybe she’d wait until they were sat down at dinner before she’d tell him Chantelle had still been keen to meet and that she’d invited her round to the Hall next weekend. He could wear his pink collar and pink maid’s dress for that.
To be continued ...we hope
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