The Last Mistress

By Andrew Muir

Sex, affairs, adventure, a sky rocking career, culinary and other worldly pleasures – or a holy vocation? Time: shortly after World War II. Location: Everywhere. -- "The Last Mistress" is the story of Richard Brown, who leaves an English boarding school at the end of World War II to find his way in the world. Believing that he might have a vocation to take Holy Orders, he decided to travel to Jerusalem and then onto Rome. A brief stay in Paris opens a new world to him. On arrival in Palestine, he gets caught up in the war between Jews and Arabs and is conscripted into the Palestine Police. Posted on the border between Palestine and Lebanon, he gets the opportunity to visit Beirut and enjoy its pleasures before being demobilized and sent back to London. --- His journey through life does not stop there. Graduating from Imperial College, London University, he enters the business world, and as a high-flying investment banker he decides that the sky's the limit. He travels around the world, continuing with his lighthearted erotic romp through life before a tragic event brings him back to earth and allows him to find his true vocation. --- Though by no means an autobiography, much of the background, especially the events in Palestine, are factual and well authenticated. However, as with his previous novels, the author draws on his personal experiences and titillates us with descriptions of gastronomic delights and seductive and sensual pleasures of love.

• Language: English
• Publisher: Mondial
• Release date: Mar 28, 2011
• ISBN: 9781595691989

Book preview

Andrew Muir

The Last Mistress

Published by Golden Sky (an imprint of Mondial) at Smashwords

Copyright

Mondial

New York

Andrew Muir:

The Last Mistress

© 2011 Golden Sky (an imprint of Mondial) and Andrew Muir

This book or parts thereof may not be reproduced in any form, stored in a retrieval system, or transmitted in any form by any means —electronic, mechanical, photocopy, recording, or otherwise—without the prior written permission of the publisher or the author, except as provided by United States of America copyright law.

Cover: © Golden Sky

ISBN (This eBook Edition): 9781595691989

ISBN (Paperback Edition): 9781595691903

www.goldenskybooks.com

Chapter One

Parkside, Wimbledon

It was a warm sunny afternoon in early September, Richard was sunbathing on the front lawn of the family house on Parkside. All the houses on this avenue overlook Wimbledon Common and have a privileged situation since the Common, as the name suggests, belongs to the people and can never ever be built on. Most of the houses are large, ostentatious even, in style mostly either Victorian or neo-Georgian, and with many more bedrooms than a modern family could possibly need. But this was 1945 and the war was over – at least in Europe – and no one except the very very rich had servants. In fact they would be lucky to find a good charlady to help with the household chores since the women who had been working for the war effort either on the land or in the factories were reluctant to go back to lowly and poorly paid domestic work.

Richard was lying on his stomach on a picnic blanket, reveling in the warmth of the late summer sun on his naked back and buttocks. He had finished boarding school for good in July and had spent the summer idling in the garden or walking on the Common wondering what the hell he was going to do with himself now. He held an unopened self-addressed envelope in his hand which he had intercepted and removed from the rest of the mail that morning. He had a good idea of the contents and was debating whether to show it to his parents or not since it contained the results of the Higher School Certificate Exams.

Richard, RICHARD! shouted his younger sister Teresa from the drawing-room window. Daddy wants to see you immediately in the study. Richard ignored her. RICHARD, come in NOW

Eventually Teresa came out into the garden.

I know you heard me so you better go in NOW. He’s in a foul mood and shouting at everyone and your mother is nearly in tears

Our mother, Richard corrected her. I’ll think about it. If it’s urgent he’ll come himself.

Well don’t say I didn’t warn you! she said turning on her heel and running back into the house.

A number 93 bus stopped outside the house on its way from Putney to Wimbledon. Grinning to himself, Richard rolled over onto his back and waved amiably to some young girls sitting on the upper deck. The hedge in front of the house was thick enough and high enough to give some privacy from passers-by with the exception of the double-decker buses. Richard relished the open mouthed stares of the girls at the sight of his nudity and he noticed with satisfaction that they didn’t look away. At that moment his father came out into the garden.

RICHARD! he bellowed, I want to see you in my study at once. Did you not get the message?

What message? replied Richard innocently.

Didn’t Teresa tell you just now that I wanted to see you?

I must have been dozing. Sorry Father! I’ll be with you in a tick. I’ll just get dressed.

Sir John Brown stalked back into the house grumbling and muttering to himself I don’t know what’s to become of this new generation. No manners, no respect, no values, no backbone....

Richard took his time to put on a pair of shorts and clean shirt and entered the study where his father was seated at his desk sharpening a pencil.

Sit down! he ordered. You know what this is? he fumed waving a typed letter in front of him.

No idea, Father, but I’ve no doubt you are going to tell me very soon

Don’t be so impertinent, it’s not the least bit amusing. It’s from your headmaster. Do you know what he says?

Richard was about to repeat his previous remark, but decided against it and merely shook his head.

"Well let me read it to you.

Dear Sir John

It is with great regret that I have to inform you that there will not be a place available for Richard next year. I know this will come as a shock to you and Lady Catherine, but Richard has persistently disobeyed the rules and undermined the authority of the school. He is a disruptive influence on his peers and on the younger boys, therefore I feel that it is in the best interests of the school and of its pupils that Richard continues his studies elsewhere.

He is a bright enough boy when he wants to learn, but I am afraid that all our efforts to control him have been in vain and I fear his exam results may prove to be very poor as a result of his lack of application.

We thank you for your understanding and co-operation in this matter and wish you and Lady Catherine the very best for the future.

Sincerely

Father Belton, S.J.

So what have you got to say for yourself? Eh? Well, boy, speak up!

Richard was somewhat taken aback, but not particularly surprised. The Jesuits had been having a difficult time controlling the older boys who were getting fed up with the poor food and petty restrictions. What did surprise him though was that Old Greaser Belton, had bothered to write. He already knew that Richard had no intention of returning for another quite unnecessary year. They had had a particularly memorable discussion on the subject the day before the end of term. He suspected that it was pure spite.

I’m sorry Father, I have absolutely no idea what Father Belton is talking about. I think he must have me confused with another boy. He already knows that I have finished my schooling..

And what happened to your exam results? We should have had them by now. I suspect you have hidden them.

Actually I have them here, he said as he handed over the as yet unopened envelope.

Sir John snatched it, ripped it open and started to read out aloud.

Latin Distinction

Greek Distinction

Mathematics Distinction

Physics Pass

Chemistry Pass

History Distinction

Theology Pass

Well I guess that’s all-right, he added grudgingly:

I’m sorry Father, but it’s more than alright. It’s a bleeding triumph over adversity and I only need three subjects to get into University.

Watch your language young man. I’ll thank you to keep a civil tongue in your head when you’re speaking to me. Is University what you have in mind?

Not quite.

What then for heavens sake. You can’t continue to laze around here all your life.

First I want to take a year off.

And then....?

Study for Holy Orders and become a priest.

Sir John looked up from his perusal of the HSC results which he still found difficult to believe.

Have you gone completely mad? You have distinctions in four subjects all of which could prepare you for half a dozen different careers and then you choose to become a priest with the one subject that you clearly know little or nothing about.

I know, and I know it must sound weird to you, but I have thought about it a lot.

Richard sat uninvited in the chair opposite his father, leaned his elbows on the desk and continued earnestly.

My poor result in Theology is because the examiners probably thought my views too radical. Besides as a priest – and in particular as a Jesuit - I could teach in all those subjects I did well in. And my fluency in Latin and Greek would allow me to research things like Canon Law going back to the earliest documents.

Richard paused realizing he was being too enthusiastic. He continued, using a different tone.

Please believe me Father - I do know what I’m doing. I know what I want to do and I know I would be good at it

Sir John snorted, but accepted – at least for the time being - what his son was saying.

So what, may I ask, do you intend to do now?

I want to travel.

Oh, you want to travel do you. Isn’t that just another excuse for lazing about somewhere else?

No. I want to go to Rome and Jerusalem.

And I presume you think that I’ll finance this gallivanting around Europe and the Middle East.

Not exactly Father. Just buy me a motorcycle and give me an allowance equal to half the fees and board and lodging you would have spent if I had gone back to Stonyhurst. The money will be far better spent I can assure you. Better than sitting on a deckchair on the front lawn all day. No? he raised his eyebrows and smiled comically at his father.

Sir John smiled back. Slowly his mood had been changing. He couldn’t help but be impressed with Richards exam results and he suspected that if he allowed his son to make this trip he would forget all about this priest nonsense and buckle down and study for a real job.

I’ll give it some thought and we’ll discuss it further tomorrow, but now I have work to do before supper. He dismissed his son with a curt nod.

It was the custom in the Brown household to dress for dinner on Saturday for this was usually the day when guests were invited. Today it was the turn of Uncle Harry who had come up for the weekend from his fruit farm in the Evesham Vale. A brother-in-law of Sir John’s he was a widower without children, successful and indulgent to Richard and Teresa, especially when they were younger, with additional pocket money. Today he had come armed with a welcome bottle of Chateau Lafite that he had saved since before the war.

Sir John sat at the head of the table, Lady Catherine at the other end, Uncle Harry between her and Teresa and with Richard facing the two of them. When they were all seated Sir John turned to Richard.

Richard, as you seem determined to become the religious one of the family can I suggest that you say grace?

Fine. For what we are about to receive let us thank our father for providing the money and our mother for her tireless efforts to make ends meet during these difficult times. Amen.

There was a chorus of amen from the family.

"Not exactly what I had in mind Richard, but thank-you anyway.

Lady Catherine put her hand on Richard’s.

I too would like to thank you, my dear, it’s gratifying that you even notice the efforts one has to make, but unfortunately, today, despite all the flattery and pleading I was only able to get two steaks from the butcher – he said our ration cards had already been used for this week. He did have some excellent pork sausages though and Uncle Harry kindly brought some fresh carrots from Evesham, so with the two tins of processed peas and some roasted potatoes I think we will have a veritable feast. I think Uncle Harry and Father should have the steaks and the rest of us can enjoy these lovely sausages.

That’s not fair!piped up Teresa. I hate sausages and they make me fat.

Uncle Harry looked embarrassed and was about to speak, but Sir John quickly made the peace.

You can have mine, my pet, I really prefer to have sausages.

Lady Catherine served and they ate the simple meal in silence for a few minutes. Uncle Harry put down his knife and fork and took an appreciative sip of the wine.

Your father tells me that you are talking about taking up holy orders. That came as a bit of a shock. You’ve never seemed the slightest bit interested in religion before. Do you think you have a vocation?

Not as you would think of it. No spiritual messages came from on high urging me to serve Our Lord. I would say that it’s come more from reflection during these past few weeks since I finished at Stonyhurst. Like everyone I suppose, I have been shocked by the destruction and deaths in Hiroshima and Nagasaki and the appalling truth about what happened in Belsen. Richard put down his cutlery and looked earnestly round the table at his family. I don’t want to sound too pi, but as I see it the spread of true Christian morals, ethics and beliefs is one of the surest ways to counter this inhumanity. The problem is that the one organization that could successfully propagate a more global acceptance of truly Christian principles seems to have lost its way. I mean of course the Catholic Church.

He glanced at his parents to judge what effect this heretical point of view was having. Seeing only interest on the faces of his audience, he continued more thoughtfully, The Church seems to be run by an out-of-date, out of touch and excessively conservative hierarchy. As a result it’s losing priests as well it’s faithful.

And you think that you can make a difference?

Maybe not, but I think the only way to reform the Church is to tackle it from the inside and that’s what I intend to do.

Have you chosen any particular order?

Absolutely! I want to become a Jesuit. They’ll be much more open to change and are likely to be more radical than that bunch of die-hards that presently hold office in Rome.

Do you include Pope Pius XII in that statement? his father asked.

Many people would say that the ex Cardinal Pacelli was an exceptionally holy man, Harry added mildly.

Yes father I do include the pope, and Uncle Harry, I know you must be playing devil’s advocate. You can’t be serious about him, throughout the war he hasn’t come out once, not once, to condemn the genocide that has been going on.

Well, you certainly seem to be sincere and genuinely concerned. When do you start, Richard?

Soon. But first I want to find out what’s happening in the rest of the world. I want to travel to the continent to see how they’re coping now the war’s over. Find out what ordinary people there are thinking, how they feel about the role of the Catholic church. I’m hoping that Father will agree to let me go soon. Next week even. The sooner the better.

Sounds laudable to me. How can I help? Do you need any money?

I don’t think so. Richard looked across at his father. Father said we’ll discuss it later, so maybe I could hold your offer in reserve until we’ve had that discussion.

Sir John sighed resignedly It looks as if you are completely set on this odd decision, so I suppose the best thing for me to do would be to help you get it out of your system. Come to my study now and let’s thrash out the details

Sir John, Uncle Harry and Richard spent the next few hours discussing Richard’s proposal, details of an allowance and how Richard would get the money, given that he had no real idea of where he was going or a time scale of getting there. Finally, all that remained to agree was the purchase of the motorbike, which Uncle Harry insisted should be his contribution to the enterprise.

Look at it as an early coming of age present he said,Let’s go to Wimbledon on Monday to choose one – at least that’s if your parents agree to put up with me for the rest of the weekend.

Richard looked at his father seeking approval to accept such a generous gift and was relieved when he nodded.

Thank you Uncle Harry, I appreciate it more than words can say. If you need me to help out on the farm next summer I would be more than happy to do so. I’ll be forever in your debt.

Well, forever is a bit extravagant, but I get the idea, and I’ll hold you to the promise of helping out next summer – if you’re back by then.

Richard and Uncle Harry were the only two that came down to the kitchen for breakfast on Sunday morning. Teresa never got up until lunchtime if she didn’t have school and Sir John almost always prepared a tray for himself and Catherine to have breakfast in bed. As always Catherine had left the table laid and by the time Uncle Harry came down Richard was already cooking breakfast for the two of them.

No bacon I’m afraid, but plenty of eggs, toast and coffee and I’ve opened a tin of spam if you feel the need for meat. How do you like your eggs – scrambled or poached?

Whatever you prefer – I’m easy. How about a walk after breakfast an then we can chat some more about your plans.

Great idea – I’ll take you over to the windmill that more or less marks the border between the Common and Putney Heath.

Despite the name of Parkside, Wimbledon Common doesn’t look at all like the type of park associated with large stretches of manicured grass, flowerbeds and grand trees. Instead the Common has unkempt bushes, various types of scraggy trees, a couple of ponds, a track for horses to gallop along and plenty of walking paths. Maintenance is kept to a minimum, but it is an oasis in what otherwise is a built up, if elegant, residential area.

Harry and Richard crossed over the road to the Common and started a brisk walk towards the windmill. Richard knew the park well, having lived on its edge for most of his life and was able to guide Harry through the most attractive areas before arriving at the windmill - a well known land mark to visitors to both Putney Heath and Wimbledon Common. Although it no longer functions as a mill, it does house a small café - a favorite haunt for hikers.

Fancy a cup of tea Uncle?

They found a small table and the waitress came over.

Hello Richard. When are you going to invite me out again to the movies?

Hello Nancy. Probably not for several months. I’m off across the channel to Paris soon - want to come? You can ride pillion on my motorbike.

My mum would kill me, but ask me when I’m twenty one and independent. Now then what would you gentlemen like? Tea for two? she said with a wink at Richard.

Always hungry Richard asked for two toasted teacakes as well. As Nancy trotted off to get their order, Harry, who had been watching this encounter between the two teenagers with amusement, turned to Richard.

Tell me about school. How was it at Stonyhurst? Were you sorry to leave?

Not at all. Couldn’t wait to shake the dust off my shoes. I think the feeling was mutual, they’re glad to be rid of me. It wasn’t bad as schools go and I learned a lot. The facilities are excellent, the food awful, but I suppose you have to make allowances for that, what with the war and everything. The masters were mostly sadists who seemed to believe that the only way to keep order and maintain any respect was six or more strokes of the ferula, but you got used to that after a while and as I mostly managed not to get caught I escaped fairly lightly on that score. No, my only real complaint was that it’s an all male environment – not even a single woman teacher just an ugly and fearsome matron who only seemed to have one remedy for every ailment – a large dose of syrup of figs.

Was there much flirtation amongst the boys?

Oh yes. The younger ones adored the head boy and all the sporting heroes and they in turn tried to seduce the good looking youngsters by giving them sweets from the tuck shop, when there were any sweets that is. However the masters managed to keep a measure of control that was just short of complete segregation.

And you?

Oh yes – I had a crush on a really beautiful young boy in my second year, but I was too shy to do anything about it and then by the time I went back for my third year, I was only thinking of girls.

Did you not feel guilty?

What about?

Having forbidden thoughts towards that lad.

"Absolutely not, except once, when a visiting Jesuit gave us all a long and graphic hell fire sermon. That had us all lined up afterwards outside the confessionals, I can tell you. Though the confessors were only interested in how many sins of the flesh we had committed - with details, the more sordid the better. But we just used to reel off a whole series of made up misdemeanors - venial sins – like swearing or telling lies. That was not what they wanted to hear. After confession we’d all compare penances and rank them by which priest we had confessed to so that for the next time we could avoid getting ten decades of the rosary. Of course doing the penance after a false confession didn’t make sense, but we did them anyway, just in case. And that, Uncle, is one of the things that I will fight to change, the Church’s reliance on guilt to maintain their precious dogmas most of which have nothing to do with the teachings of Christ. Don’t get me started or I’ll never stop."

Nancy appeared with a pot of tea, sugar and milk and the two toasted tea cakes. As they tucked in Harry asked the question he had been keen to know the answer to.

Why were you thrown out of school?

Richard finished his teacake and sipped at his cup of tea.

I wasn’t actually thrown out, just asked not to come back

Yes, but why? What on earth did you do?

If you really want to know, Uncle he said, I ran a secret society with strict rules for those who wanted to join.

What was the attraction?

Doing something we weren’t supposed to, I suppose, but that wasn’t the only reason, we had some amusing times together – they usually involved creeping out of school at night. Once we booked a room for 10.30 pm at the local pub - the Shireburn Arms – to gorge on egg and chips and unlimited beer. As usual we left our outdoor clothes in the music room which was in a semi-basement so it would be climbable out of the window and out of the school. Unfortunately one of the masters had decided to lock the door to the music room that particular night. Undaunted we went up to the roof of the building, climbed down a fire-escape and trudged up the long avenue to the pub in our pajamas, slippers and dressing gowns. The locals in the pub must have thought it was a very weird party or perhaps just boys being boys.

So how did the headmaster discover what you had been doing?

He didn’t and that’s why he couldn’t expel me. But he must have known that something was going on with boys falling asleep during classes so he wrote to my father to request that I didn’t return next term. I’m sure he’s as glad to see the back of me as I am of him.

Richard looked at his watch.

We better be heading back, Uncle, or else we’ll be late for Sunday lunch and that’ll make Dad hopping mad, apart from the fact that it’s the best meal of the week.

Next day Harry and Richard went down to visit Wimbledon Motorcycles Ltd in Hayes Road. The proprietor came out to greet them as they were looking at the various models outside the shop.

Morning gentlemen. Can I help or are you just looking around?

He looked from one to the other, confused because he wasn’t quite sure who was dong the buying. Richard immediately put him right.

The bike is for me but my uncle will be signing the check. I want something ultra reliable, not overly sporty but that will take me a long way without needing replacements.

Two stroke or four stroke?

Four stroke. I must say I like the look of that AJS with its black petrol tank. 250 cc I imagine.

Good choice. I would say your choice is between that and the Royal Enfield. Both are prewar designs though brand new. They’re single cylinder and both very reliable. The Rudge is faster and the Triumph with its twin cylinders smoother for cruising but its a new model and I would think your first choice would be the best one.

How much?

The list price is 125 but I’ll throw in the license, a full tank and get you a ration card. How does that sound?

Richard looked at his Uncle unsure how to proceed with bargaining and besides it was Harry’s money.

Throw in a couple of panier bags and a pillion and I’ll give you a check right now.

You drive a hard bargain, Sir, but seeing as it’s cash on the nail, I’ll do it and the young lad can pick it up with all the paperwork done on Wednesday.

He turned to Richard,

Can I interest you in any lessons?

"Thank you but no – I had a two stroke James for a year before I ran out of lighter fluid. I was too young to apply for a