Fast Forward 6 Months
Beating Sainsbury's
Stephen burst into the front door, bubbling, "We beat Sainsburys! Nobody beats Sainsburys! I scored three goals, one by accident- off my head!"
Betty rushed to the lounge, wiping her hands on her pinny,"What are you rabbiting on about?"
"We beat Sainsburys. Twenty to twelve! It was blinding! You should have seen their faces; they were livid! A bunch of old men slew them!" he was animated and his eyes sparkled. He was so excited he was giddy. He hugged her. She wrinkled her nose and pulled back a little.
"Why do you like the way I smell after work, but not after football?"
"You smell different after work. You put your regular clothes on. There's after shave still lingering on your collar. You smell like a hard day's work; you smell…sexy," she fluttered her eyes enticingly, "After football, you smell sour and you've got grass and dirt on you."
His attention turned to the aroma of dinner cooking, "Oooohhh..what's for dinner? Something smells wonderful."
"Sunday Roast, potatoes, peas and pearl onions, and home-made bread," she announced.
"My favorite dinner after beating my favorite team! Mr. Woodward was there. Oh, it was brilliant watching the Sainsburys' manager hand over a stack to Mr. Woodward! Then we all went out for a pint. Mr. Woodward gave us each this…" he said proudly and handed Betty a twenty pound note.
"That was nice of him. How much have you had to drink then?"
"Just one, and I didn't finish it; I wanted to come home and have dinner with you," he brown-nosed, his voice dripping with flattery. She smiled sweetly at him.
"Charmer! I just made a pot of tea; would you like a cuppa?"
"Yes, I would, please. Then I'm going to go up for a shower and shave before dinner."
He stood in the bathroom, draped in a towel, shaving. Betty came in and stood behind him. She wrapped her arms around his waist, touching his belly, her head resting on his back, "You smell good."
He set his straight razor down, turned to face her, and held her hands.
"Did you put dinner in the oven to keep warm?"
"Yes, on regulo one, and I wrapped the bread in a tea towel. The tea is under a cozy. It will still be hot when you come downstairs."
"Then how about bending over the edge of this washbasin so I can have dessert before dinner?" he winked.
She playfully slapped his cheek, "You are horrible! Is that all you think about?"
"Don't blame me; it's not my fault. I blame it on this sexy lady I live with! She brings it out in me," he professed.
"How so?" she crooned bewitchingly. She ran a finger along his jaw line and pursed her lips at him.
He began to talk about her in the third person, "Well, first off, she has these eyes- wild blue eyes- they dance, especially when she looks at me. Then she has this mouth that I love to kiss. She has beautiful lips, a wonderful smile, and an infectious laugh. She has great big knockers that I love to lose myself in. She has lovely hips. And a big round bum that I love to grab handfuls of. Oh, and her thighs: I am addicted to her thighs; I could bite them! Another thing about her mouth- when she's calling out my name- it drives me mad! And she has these incredible legs; I want my hands all over those legs!"
He was animated and his eyes went all dreamy and glazed-over as he spoke through almost clenched teeth.
She was blushing as he finished. She could feel his heart pounding.
She looked down at his towel, "Captain Peacock, you seem to have pitched a tent!"
"Betty, if you keep talking dirty like this, you will sound common as muck, like those men I work with!"
"Fancy that!" she said dryly and left the bathroom in a huff.
"What about my dessert?"
"Get knotted!" her voice trailed off as she went downstairs.
Monday morning, 9 am. With tresses of bright lavender, Betty arrived the next morning at Grace Brothers a few minutes after Miss Brahms. The two women uncovered the counters, folding the canvases, and stowing them in the lower cupboard drawers. Betty checked her make-up in the mirror. She took off her scarf, revealing an angry purple welt on her neck.
Eyes wide, mortified, she stammered, "Oh, that little…OOoohh…I'm going to kill him! Blimey! That's awful! Miss Brahms! Emergency! Do you have any foundation or concealer?"
"Yes, Mrs. Peacock?"
Miss Brahms walked over Betty's side of the counter, saw the love-bite on her neck, and stopped short. Her eyes widened in horror and she did a double-take.
"Ere! What's that on your neck? You look dead common with that!" she shrieked.
"Shh..shh..Oh, don't I know it!" she hissed, "He played football yesterday and they beat Sainsburys. He came home wild-eyed! I don't know what he was thinking!"
"Yeah, but we know what he was doin'!" she tittered.
"That'll do, Miss Brahms!" Betty snapped.
Miss Brahms handed her the bottle and Betty began to daub the make-up over the bite-mark on her neck. With the evidence completely camouflaged, she went over to the wall phone, removed one earring, and dialed over to Woodward and Lothrop and asked for Stephen.
"Captain Peacock speaking," he chirped.
"Naughty boy…"she drawled sultry and seductively, curling the phone cord in her fingers.
He smiled and shook his head a little, "Not again!" he whispered, "To whom am I speaking?" he asked in his Royal Signals voice.
"This is Sexy Knickers," she trilled.
"I beg your pardon?" he played along.
"This is Sexy Knickers," she repeated.
"That's what I thought you said. Are you a customer?"
"Customer, indeed! Stephen Peacock, if you ever put a mark on my neck like you did last night, I shall forbid you from playing with those boys! They're a bad influence!" she scolded playfully.
"You called out my name," he reminded her.
"You're my husband! It would have been awkward if I called out someone else's name, now wouldn't it?"