Alms for Oblivion Read Online Free PDF Page B

Peckham. And there was some other unfortunate before Randolph.”
    “Gertrude is a pregnant name for a stepmother.”
    “Why?”
    “There is a play by William Shakespeare . . . ”
    “
Hamlet
? Oh yes, I know it. Well, whatever her reasons she has been . . .
attentive
. . . towards all of the girls, particularly my oldest sister. Perhaps she sees it as a
way of winning my father’s approval. But she already had him in hand, I think, before that.”
    Sensing something here, I said, “And towards you she has also been attentive?”
    I felt Peter tense beside me.
    “More than attentive.”
    Before he could say anything else in this teasing vein we jarred gently against the base of Temple Stairs, and our brief voyage was over.
    I thanked the boatman, tipped him handsomely and groped my way up the greasy steps. Peter followed.
    “Where exactly are we going, Nick?” said Peter, catching up with me in the fog.
    “Only a little way in this direction along Middle Temple Lane. If your story doesn’t take more than a few minutes you might as well complete it. No danger of a boatman eaves-dropping
now.”
    “Story?”
    “Of the young man and his stepmother.”
    “You expect some filth, eh?”
    “I live in hope.”
    “Then I’m afraid you’ll be disappointed. Evidently my father wasn’t enough for my new stepmother – or perhaps she is one of those hot-livered women who must subdue
every man within her reach.”
    “I should like to meet her.”
    “You should not. Mistress Gertrude is a harpy, as I say, all claws and leathern wings.”
    “You’re protesting too much, Peter. I suspect you have fallen in love with her. Or in lust.”
    “Oh yes, she wore low-cut dresses for all that she was married to my father, and pressed her boobies against me within a few days of arriving in our house – ”
    “And you had no say in this matter. You didn’t invite her booby presses.”
    “Wait. It gets worse.”
    “Better, you mean.”
    “I mean what I mean. Be sure my stepmother would often be up night-walking when I was not yet in bed.”
    “She couldn’t sleep?”
    “She was wide awake and in search of
night
-work to put my father in his
night
cap.”
    “What do you mean?” I said though I half knew.
    “Why, she was out to cuckold him, when she made to thrust my hand through her silken placket.”
    His tone was half-way between being amused and bitter, but with a dash of something else.
    “That would have been a good revenge,” I said, “against your father.”
    “It’s not a matter for levity, Nick. She is loose in the hilts. And she has a son of about my age too. She told me. That makes it even worse.”
    There was something a bit priggish about Peter. Naturally I didn’t say so. Instead I tried a little light flattery.
    “Have you considered that you’re an attractive young man, Peter?”
    “Her very words, as I recall.”
    “I meant them mockingly.”
    “She did not.”
    “Of course you loyally refused her thrusts and her plackets?”
    “I was too afraid that I would succumb to them, if I’m honest,” said my friend. “That is partly why I left Quint House. That, and my father’s continued refusal to
countenance my ambitions in playing. I left home in a hurry. Then it took me some little time to screw up my courage and come to London. But I did come. And here I am.”
    “Exit, pursued by a stepdame.”
    “Only in my dreams. I dream of her. Have nightmares I should say.”
    I wouldn’t have said it for the world, but I was amused by the picture of my friend fleeing his stepmother’s overtures. I imagined her hot-breathed behind him, with nightgown
loosened and flapping.
    By now we had reached our destination, as I informed Peter.
    “
Where
are we though?”
    “Countryman that you are, Peter, even you must have heard of Middle Temple.”
    “I think so. But you may enlighten me.”
    If you asked me for my ideal audience I suppose it would come close to being the law students of the Inns