Diana and Margaret

By Richard F Jones

Richard Francis has a wife and two children. In his work as a publicity agent he meets up with Diana and they become lovers. They then go into partnership in business together and he meets Margaret, who is Diana's lesbian lover. He then also becomes a TV presenter and during that time he falls in love with Margaret and subsequently becomes her lover. His TV presenting includes the current social problems of polluted rivers, decadent forestry. lesbianism and local road traffic problems. The novel relates the trials and tribulations of his life.

• Language: English
• Publisher: Richard F Jones
• Release date: May 10, 2023
• ISBN: 9798215359860

Richard F Jones

I was born in Wales, but have lived in Spain, Majorca, the western highlands of Scotland and the Wye Valley.My books are mostly set in the places where I have had homes. These include ten published paperbacks and eleven e-books.I append below a review from Mr Derek J Edwards of my novel, 'Time on their Hands'.'I could not put this book down. It was full of interesting characters, with twists and turns in every chapter. I will certainly be looking for other novels by Richard F Jones. 'You can check Amazon Kindle for the authenticity of the review.

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DIANA AND MARGARET

SMASHWORDS EDITION

To my wife, Meg, whose tireless efforts made the publication of this book possible.

Copyright 2023. All rights reserved. Without limiting the rights under copyright reserved above, no part of this book may be reproduced, stored in or introduced into a retrieval system, or transmitted, in any form, or by any means (electrical, mechanical, photocopying, recording, or otherwise) without the written permission of both the copyright owner and the above publisher of this book.

This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, brands, media and incidents are either the product of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously. The author acknowledges the trademarked status and trademark owners of various products referenced in this work of fiction, which have been used without permission. The publication/use of these trademarks is not authorised, associated with, or sponsored by the trademark owners.

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DIANA & MARGARET

‘That’s wonderful,’ the woman who I was lying on top of, and making love to, exclaimed. ‘Please do it some more.

Some time, much later on, I was sitting in an interview room at Cardiff Police station, with two officers standing alongside my chair waiting to be cross examined by the detectives. I said. ‘What are you charging me for?’  ‘They will tell you,’ one of the officers replied. Earlier those two men had called on me at my home in the early evening and asked me to accompany them to the station. ‘Why?’ I asked them when I opened the front door. At that moment my wife and my two children were standing behind me. The two cops could obviously see all of them. ‘You’ll be told when we get there.’ One of them replied. ‘I’d better get my coat then,’ I said. I moved towards the hall cupboard for it and my wife helped me put it on. ‘I don’t know what the hell all this is about, but I suppose I’d better go’ I said and put my arms around her shoulders and kissed her on the cheek and did the same with the two kids. ‘Come on let's get this over with,’ I said to the two men and followed them down my driveway and was ushered into the back seat of their car. ‘Please phone me,’ my wife shouted after me. ‘I certainly will.’ I shouted back to her.

I have to go back a very long way to recall how all this began.

CHAPTER

The Sugar Loaf mountain near Abergavenny is one of the most beautiful and imposing conical peaks in the Black Mountains with spectacular views of Abergavenny and across South Wales. With a height of 1955ft it bears the Welsh name of Mynydd Pen-y-Fal which translated into English means mountain head, peak or summit. It is a popular misconception that the Sugar Loaf is an extinct volcano. The hill is formed from old red sandstone which was laid down during the early part of the Devonian period. There are a number of landslips on its flanks which are believed to date from early post-glacial times.

My father was a man who encouraged my physical fitness and sporting activities, like walking, football, cricket and rugby. From my memory I think I was about five years old when he first walked me up the Sugar Loaf to its summit. Thereafter we continued to go up there whenever we could as well as the adjacent peaks of the Blorenge and the Skirrid. Once I was old enough I did the same thing by myself or sometimes with my school friends and the occasional girl, although I don’t think many of the girls were that much interested in me as I suppose I was too vocal and loud mouthed.

When I left school with only a few O’levels I was lucky enough, with my father’s help, to get a job in what was then called the Midland Bank. It was there that I met my wife Jean. I didn’t really enjoy the work though, it was too fiddly, laborious and fussy, but in the branch in which I worked there were plenty of nubile young girls with whom I was eventually able to enjoy many fumbling sexual liaisons. As they used to gossip amongst themselves, I suppose I must have gained a bit of a reputation, as thereafter I had no difficulty persuading many more of them to have sex with me. Sometimes one or two of them, when their homes were empty, would even take me up to their bedrooms, where on a comfortable mattress I could develop my skills and prowess in that respect. Occasionally I was invited back two or three times. Eventually I got bored with the bank work and decided to look for another job.

I shopped around a bit but then went to a seminar where Runcorn Investments were recruiting for suitable young employees. Somehow or another I must have impressed them as they signed me up as a trainee sales representative, a job I thoroughly enjoyed. On the road there were also plenty of willing females until I re-met my wife-to-be, Jean, who was then also a sales rep with the same firm. Then my gallivanting ceased and I worked my way up into the management structure of the firm. We married and soon produced two healthy children. In time I obtained a senior management position in the same firm.

CHAPTER

It was five o’clock on a cold damp winter evening. I was hurrying and escaping from work on the dot as I had a social event later on. I ran to where I usually parked my car but I was shocked when I discovered that it wasn’t where I thought I had parked it after lunch. ‘Bloody Hell,’ I swore as I looked further down the road, but it wasn’t in sight anywhere. My car at the time was a red Mercedes and you could normally spot it, even from a distance. I swore again under my breath, only this time more explicatively, then ran down the street to a side road where I also occasionally parked. Again there was no sign of my vehicle anywhere. I tried another side road, but the result was the same.

Bad temperedly I made my way back to the reception area of my office block. The concierge was sitting behind his desk on the right hand side. ‘You haven’t seen my car going past the window, have you?’ I asked him sternly. I was aware that he knew what my car looked like as occasionally I had asked him to park it for me when I was in a desperate hurry and I knew he loved to drive it. The Mercedes was an expensive and racy model.

‘Not this afternoon mister Francis,’ he replied whilst trying to force a smile across his face.

‘Well it’s not where I parked it after lunch. I hope somebody hasn’t stolen it.’

‘Sometimes people who steal cars around here initially park them in the basement and then when everybody has gone home they drive them away later on in the night.’ Dafydd the concierge said.

‘I suppose I’d better go and have a look down there then,’ I responded and stormed over to a side entrance which led down to the basement car park.

The basement area down below was a cavernous cellar which was the size of the whole ground floor area of the office block. Strip lights illuminated it, which enabled me to see all the cars in there, which by that time of day weren’t many. Instantly I could clearly see that my Mercedes wasn’t amongst them.

As I walked out of the building a police car drove past sounding a Klaxon horn. I watched it fly down the road with its blue light flashing. I followed on just to see what was happening. Three policemen got out, they appeared to be armed. They all charged at the front door of a house and smashed it open with a battering ram. They shouted out ‘we’re coming in’. From inside the house I could hear screams and cries. I stood there for some time just listening to the hullabaloo that was going on inside. Eventually the three police officers reappeared with two men and a woman handcuffed to their wrists. By then a police wagon had also appeared outside the front door of the house and they began to bundle the three people into the wagon. The woman was still screaming. The two men grunted and groaned as they were shoved into the back of the van. I ran back into the foyer of the office block.

‘Dafydd can you please phone for a taxi for me,’ I hollered as I approached his desk. ‘I have an important appointment tonight which I don’t want to miss.

‘Certainly mister Francis.’ he responded and reached for the telephone on his desk.

While he organised it I paced around the reception area impatiently. My frustration was aggravated because that evening I had arranged a dinner date with my glorious blonde mistress Diana.

The taxi eventually arrived but when I got home I was still in a bad mood. I had told my wife Jean earlier that morning that I would be going out that evening on what I lied was a business dinner.

‘Our bloody car has been stolen,’ were my first words when I entered through the front door.

Jean was an attractive dark haired woman, with brown eyes and a neat figure and was aged like me in her late thirties. We had been married for just over seven years.

‘You’ll have to ring the police,’ I continued. She was busy dealing with our two children, Chloe and Sam, and their night time preparations. They were aged five and seven.

‘Can’t you do it Richard. You can see I’ve got my hands full here,’ she replied as she was seeing to the kids supper over the dining room table.

‘I told you this morning that I had to go out to a business dinner tonight. I’ve had to organise a taxi to get me home and I’ve told him to come back in an hour to take me to the dinner.’

‘Where was the car stolen from?’ she asked as I ran up the stairs to change and shower.

‘Where I park it in the road outside the office. You know the spot. You’ve picked it up there many times.’

Before she could reply I had stripped off in the bedroom and dived into the shower. When I came downstairs, fully togged in my expensive going out clothes she said, ‘The police say that you will have to go into the station in the morning with all the car’s documents as it is registered in your name.’

‘Bloody hell,’ I retorted. ‘As if I haven’t got enough to do.’

Next I heard a car’s horn from outside which I realised was my taxi. ‘I’ve got to go,’ I said. Briefly I kissed my two children on their heads, placed my hand on my wife’s shoulder then hurried out through the front door without looking back.

CHAPTER

I suppose that was the real beginning of the troubles I was about to endure. I had met Diana Ramsgate at a business function I’d attended in the city some weeks before. After the speeches and presentations there was a buffet luncheon with wine and delicacies. During the buffet I had spotted her over the other side of the room. She was about my height. She had blonde hair which curled around her neck close to her shoulders. She was wearing a black halter top which revealed her tanned arms and shoulders and exemplified her ample pointed breasts. Below there was a cream skirt which, without being provocative, amply displayed her long glamorous legs. Needless to say I was instantly attracted, but being at that moment a happily married man I wasn’t going to push the matter further.

However, as I stood there with a glass of wine in my hand she approached me and said, ‘I don’t think we’ve met before but my name is Diana Ramsgate and it’s obvious we are in the same business and I am wondering who you work for?’

I said my name and explained that I was a senior executive with a company called Runcorn Investments who specialise in promoting their clients products, mostly industrial.

‘Well there we are then,’ she replied, ‘we are in the same line of business, although we specialise in financial products and financial companies.’

I went on to say that my firm tended to concentrate on companies that made something and produced a product.

Her blue eyes fluttered at me. I was instantly attracted by their warming glow.

‘Perhaps we could meet up for lunch and discuss our mutual problems,’ she said. ‘We’ll go halves on the bill,’ she continued.

‘Any particular restaurant you like in town?’ I replied.

She mentioned a name which I knew well. It wasn’t cheap but I knew the food was good. ‘Ok I’ll book it.’ I replied and asked her for a day and time and her telephone number which she gave me and added that it was her private mobile. I said I’d call her with the confirmation of our date.

That telephone call transpired and we arranged to meet two days later at the agreed restaurant, ‘El Pato’ and I booked a table there for one o’clock.

I arrived first and was welcomed into a table near the door by Andreas, the owner who was obviously Spanish. He handed me a menu. ‘I’m waiting for a lady,’ I said.

‘Si sѐnor,’ he replied. ‘Would you like a drink?’

‘No thanks, I'll wait for the lady.’ I said.

It wasn’t long before Diana flounced through the restaurant door.

‘I’m sorry I’m late.’ she said.

Before I could say anything further Andreas raced across to help her off with the jacket she was wearing and when she sat down he handed her the menu and then asked us both what we would like to drink. I looked across at Diana and she said ‘a bottle of Chablis please.’ I nodded at Andreas.

Then for the first time being so close together, I was able to take a proper in depth look at her. I guessed she was about the same age as me, although the classic make up she had applied may have hidden a few facial lines. On that day she wore a multi coloured blouse which blended with her attractive features.

‘How’s your day been?’ she asked me, then glanced down to look at the menu.

‘Oh pretty much the same as usual,’ I replied. ‘I keep suggesting to my clients ideas that would expand their sales if they adopted some of them, but they continue to argue that their budget wouldn’t accommodate that expenditure. I’ve told them that their growth won't continue unless they invest in their future.’

‘Well it seems like we are in the same business then,’ Diana said.

Andreas returned with the bottle of Chablis and two wine glasses and said, ‘What would you like to eat?’ We confessed we hadn’t had time to consider the menu and so he left us alone to do exactly that.

As we began to eat and drink we got off the subject of work and I started to realise that we had more things in common than I would have imagined as well as the physical attraction we obviously both had for each other. Throughout our talk my eyes hardly moved from her dazzling blue beamers. I discovered she lived in her own apartment at the top of an expensive block in Penarth, a pretty, small seaside town within a few miles of Cardiff, overlooking the Bristol Channel. I went on to learn that her weekend hobbies included swimming in the pool in the apartment block and also in the sea near the pier at Penarth. In addition she also loved to hike in the mountains around Abergavenny, the Blorenge, the Sugar Loaf and the Skirrid, all of which I had climbed in my younger days. Unfortunately my wife Jean had never been partial to those activities and once we’d had the two children I was then never again to climb a decent mountain.

The meal and the wine were consumed easily as we talked but as we neared the end she said, ‘I’m going to have to get back to work soon,’ and called over to Andreas for the bill.

Andreas obliged and we both put our credit cards down on the table. ‘In half please,’ Diana said. He obliged.

‘I was wondering if we could meet up on a weekend to climb the Sugar Loaf,’ I said to Diana as Andreas completed the credit card transaction.

‘I think that would be great,’ she responded. ‘You’ve got my phone number. Call me when it’s convenient.’

We got up and left together. As we exited the door I put my arm around her shoulder and she didn’t object.

Throughout the rest of that week I continued to speculate on the sort of positive relationship I could possibly have with this woman Diana Ramsgate. Apart from our brief meetings I had no real idea of what she was really like under her glamorous and attractive facade. Up until that moment my marriage to Jean had been satisfactory, although since the birth of our two children I had been relegated into second place and so I had concentrated on my work to fill in the gap.

‘What have you got lined up for this weekend?’ I asked Jean over supper one evening.

‘Well the children have got to go to sports on Saturday morning and we are meeting up with my parents on Sunday for lunch at their house as we often do.’

My heart sank. I knew I couldn’t get out of Sunday lunch. It was a regular family get together.

‘Perhaps I’ll take myself out for a walk on Saturday,’ I said. As my Mercedes was still missing I had organised a hire car and they delivered a powerful Hyundai. ‘You know I’m not much use at the sports.’ I said to Jean.

‘Please yourself,’ she replied and we left it like that.

Over the next couple of days I pondered on what to do so on Friday I decided to ring Diana on her private phone.

‘I was wondering if you would be free on Saturday morning for a hike up the Sugar Loaf?’ I said.

‘I couldn’t think of anything more wonderful.’ she replied.

‘Can we meet at the car park at the foot of the mountain?’ I asked.

‘Great,’ was her response.

On the Saturday morning I awoke early, showered, shaved and changed into some light walking clothes. Then I helped Jean with the kids breakfast and their clothes and kit for the sports morning. I assisted them all into her car then said, ‘I may go for a walk up the Sugar Loaf this morning.’

‘Well you take care,’ Jean replied. ’ Take your waterproofs, it may rain.’

I kissed them all and waved goodbye as they drove away down the road. As instructed I went back inside the house and gathered together, into a dilapidated rucksack, what remained of my most respectable waterproof walking clothes.

During the forty minute drive to the Sugar Loaf I conjectured on what might take place during the rest of the day. Diana was already waiting for me at the car park below the mountain standing alongside a sporty Porsche two seater.

‘You made it then?’ she said as I drew up alongside her and wound the window of the Hyundai.

She was wearing a blue waterproof anorak and tight fitting grey lycra shorts and sturdy blue trainers.’You look kitted out for a good hike,’ I responded.

I alighted from the Hyundai and searched in the boot for my hiking boots, but after I had donned them I realised that I didn’t look half as attractive as she did. I struggled to put on a lightweight knapsack which contained my waterproofs and realised that it was a long time since I had done something like that. She set off at a brisk pace and I soon discovered that I was going to have trouble keeping up with her.

As we walked I began to talk about how I had walked up there many times as a young man, as well as all the other surrounding mountains.

She related that she hadn't started this sort of mountaineering until she had returned to work in her current job and lived in Penarth, after University and a job in the City of London. 'I did however engage in a lot of sporting and gymnastic activities in those places.' She added.

We continued in that manner until we reached the summit. 'Wow’, she exclaimed as we approached the marker point. That day she had tied her blonde hair behind her neck and the sun illuminated all of her glamorous facial features. 'You are very beautiful,' I couldn't hold back from remarking.

'Thank you kind sir,' she replied. 'And and I think you are a very sexy looking guy. Is there anything you think we should do about it?'