Joyce flopped gratefully onto the soft cushions of the chaise longue. It was nearing the end of a long and difficult day.
What a relief to put her feet up at last. An upset involving their wonderful cook Esther that afternoon had been particularly taxing. Joyce could only hope that she’d done enough to pacify her and that they wouldn’t have a resignation on their hands.
Poor Esther. And what about poor Bert? It was lucky he’d been wearing his bearskin hat or his head injuries might have been quite serious. Actually, with hindsight, the whole thing had been a tiny bit amusing and Joyce allowed herself a little chuckle as she recalled what had taken place.
How on on earth would Cook know that in Bert’s heyday certain army wives who were feeling ‘lonely’ because their husbands were away on exercises would put a box of OMO washing powder in the window to signal ‘On My Own’ or ‘Old Man Out’?
Apparently Bert, who’d had his eye on Cook for some time [actually he’d had his eyes on most of the females in Agar Hall for some time – he couldn’t help it, his lascivious eyes were just painted that way] thought all of his birthdays had come at once and had hot-footed it to the kitchen as quickly as his one remaining melon foot would allow.
Understandably, Cook had not taken his amorous advances well. In fact, she’d been furious and had chased him out of the kitchen pretty sharpish, beating him viciously about the head and shoulders with her ladle as he went.
Actually, thought Joyce, the ladle had been another lucky break for Bert because had Cook have been engaged in a bit of chopping when he’d burst into her kitchen, he might well have suffered further dismemberment!
Joyce chuckled again and as she surrendered herself to a swift forty winks before baby Morag’s next feed, her thoughts turned to dear Rabbie who had, only a few hours ago, unexpectedly volunteered to take care of the members himself that evening so that she could have an early night. What a darling he was and how he would roar with laughter when she told him about the OMO incident…….zzz
To be continued…
© 2018, Zoe. All rights reserved.
Great stuff. Is that true about the OMO? The banging of the ladle is a brilliant shot.
It’s certainly an oft-repeated tale amongst service men, Rosemary but whether it’s largely apocryphal or not I couldn’t say!
That must have been before the red lights were available,
Must say that ladle came in useful., I’m taking a break from DHPP for now as everyone seems so grumpy, so pleased you are still posting to cheer me up.
Oh dear, Jan, we have been a bit grumpy lately haven’t we? So sorry. Fingers crossed that things will change. In the meantime, I’m really pleased that Grecondale has brought you a bit of cheer. xx
Well, that woke us all up, I must say. What goings on!
I have to confess that I get mixed up with the many Grecons I have seen on DHPP etc. I remembered the last story you had told and assumed this one was a carry on from it. I was confused because I remember the last cook had blond hair. I checked back and, of course, this establishment is a different one. Keep awake, Maddy! And then there is this soldier intent on no good who, in another life, is married to a pretty woman and has a baby. But that character belongs to another member, doesn’t he? Never mind, I may never get the situations clear but I do enjoy them.
Thank you, Zoe.
Well I think you’ve worked that all out beautifully, Maddy. I must admit, I struggle to keep track too and half of them are mine! Pleased you enjoyed it in any case. (Oh and I must just mention that Rosemary’s Sergeant Troy is a much finer chap than Bert, in both character and stitching!)
Ahem. Don’t forget that Troy seduced Bathsheba – although she was certainly up for it, and then left her almost holding the baby. Luckily it all came to a happy ending – mostly with thanks to Bathsheba’s sensible Mother.
I don’t know how because it was an exiting little ‘episode’ in Greenville but I HAD forgotten that! These military types are obviously all the same!!
Lol Zoe! Reading this instalment on the tram home from work, the people sitting near me must be wondering about the silly (and happy) grin on my face. The shot with the ladle is my favourite too!
Pleased it made you smile, Edel, even if it raised an eyebrow or two amongst your fellow-passengers! xx
Yes, OMO was a signal but not restricted to Service wives & no doubt the sight of a packet in the window would lead to much tut-tuting amongst the neighbours – “Did you see she had her fancy man in again today?” Poor Fred. Wonder if he knows?”
That reminds me of watching Les Dawson when I was a girl, Frances – Cissy and Ada! 🤣