06 Lynching Party

Carlisle is close to Gretna Green where eloping lovers traditionally go to get married. I do hope Lou hasn’t got any funny ideas.

We load our suitcases into the car as I worry about whether this old mini has any chance of getting all the way to Carlisle and back. We shall see. I am also worried about where I will be sleeping in Carlisle. Will Lou and I be sharing a bed as we often have or will we be putting on a show for the old folks?

Surprisingly we make good time in spite of some very wet weather and arrive safely at Lou’s grandparents on Friday night. After a round of introductions I am shown to my room. Show for the old folks it is, worst luck.

We spend a pleasant Saturday touring round in the grandparents’ car, visiting Roman emperor Hadrian’s wall and other tourist attractions. By Saturday night I am feeling very horny and Louisa and I contrive to spend the evening by ourselves. Waving goodbye to the grandparents, we drive my mini to a local pub and order some drinks. I am in a lager mood tonight while Lou has her usual gin and tonic. We talk about our day, her grandparents, life in general and the future. We have always got on well ever since we met, possibly because we are both pisceans, and I am convinced that this is the girl I will one day marry. Just not yet. She doesn’t want to elope at the moment so that’s a great relief and gently I move the conversation towards how horny I am. After several gin and tonics, it turns out that she’s a bit horny too, so we decide to go somewhere a bit more private.

The car is parked a short distance away on a side road. It’s dark, it’s quiet and there’s not really anyone about. We climb into the back seat of the car and begin heavy petting. She has her hands down my briefs and things are just getting interesting when a police car pulls up with its headlights beaming onto us. I can’t believe it. The cops are everywhere. Having dampened our ardour and weakened my erection, they drive off.

We get back into the front seats where I have an idea.

"Let’s drive further down this country lane where no-one will find us", I suggest. Lou nods her agreement. We set off and after about a mile, I pull off the road onto a wide grass verge. In the back seat the heavy petting progresses well and despite the cramped conditions I finally manage to do the business. We clean up with a some paper handkerchiefs that Louisa has in her handbag and, as it’s now quite late, agree to return to Lou’s grandparents house.

Its begun raining again and as we transfer to the front seats of the car, for the first time it strikes me how muddy it is on this verge. We clean the mud off our shoes as best we can and I start the car. Mini’s have front wheel drive and I have parked the car on the verge facing away from the road, so I put the gears into reverse and prepare to edge the car backwards. Slipping the clutch I await movement. Nothing. I check the gears and try again. Still nothing. Opening the car window, I look down and see the front wheels spinning viciously, digging a trench in the mud. Fuck! I look at Louisa.

"Houston, I think we've got a problem." I say. She giggles.

Minutes later we are both ankle deep in mud, furiously attempting to push the obstinate car onto the road. I have filled the trench cut by the spinning wheels with a few branches and the carpet from the car in the hope of providing some traction but it is to no avail. It’s raining hard now and I think Lou is crying. I am caked in mud where I slipped over during my exertions. We sit in the car and rest. I admit defeat.

Life tip: Never park on muddy grass verges especially if you've got only front wheel drive.

"Look, we’ll have to ring your grandparents" I say.

"But it's 2 o'clock in the morning" she wails.

"They'll still be up. They'll be worried, won't they?"

She sees the logic in this and we trudge in the rain back to the phone box by the pub.

"Where are you? We were so worried!" I can hear her grandfather ask down the phone.

"Sorry" says Lou looking remorseful. (Maybe this is a piscean trait.) She explains where we are and we wait huddling inside the phone box out of the rain.

A short time later the grandparents show up in their car. Granny's carrying a tow rope, at least I think it’s a tow rope or maybe this is a lynching party.

"We were so worried!" they exclaim in unison.

"Sorry" we repeat together. We both look very remorseful. As we all drive together to where the mini is stuck grandmother asks, "What were you doing all the way down this little lane?" Everybody goes quiet. Even the car seems to be running more quietly. There is a deathly hush. This is a tricky question and I decide to leave it for Lou to field.

"We got lost and were trying to turn round when we got stuck " she says with as much conviction as she can muster. Brilliant! I try to keep a straight face. Under pressure this girl’s good. I squeeze her hand.

It doesn’t take long to tow the mini free and I finally hit the sack at 3-30 in the morning. I sleep fitfully, I’ll be glad to leave tomorrow. We spend an uneventful Sunday morning and leave for Colchester after lunch. We are all smiles. It’s been an interesting weekend, hasn’t it?

As the holidays progress Lou and I start to have problems. She wants to go out with her friends a lot and often seems reluctant to spend time with me. I don’t know what’s wrong but Glen is always happy to come out for a night of drinking and disco.

One evening Glen picks me up in his old Ford Escort at about 8pm and we go to a pub in Dedham called ‘The Malborough’ where we drink lager and play our favourite video game ‘Galaxian’. After an hour or so of this we set off to visit a nightclub in Sible Hedingham, which we have visited once or twice before.

The disco is going full pelt by the time we arrive and at the bar we order more lager. It’s Glen’s round so while he pays, I find the toilet. I relieve myself and emerge keen to find Glen and my lager. Then I see her. Our eyes meet. She’s wearing a bright blue jumpsuit and in her makeup she looks stunning. Sitting next to her is a balding, muscular, older guy. Louisa looks away from me and towards her new beau. Everything is suddenly clear. I find Glen, down my lager in one go and order a whisky. Better make it a double.

The next evening I ring Louisa at home. It's a teary conversation. He's a builder, she met him at a club, no she’s not in love she just wants to play the field a bit. I understand, I think. What she means is...it’s over.

Desperately Seeking Sex & Sobriety - Copyright Paul Pisces 2002-2004

(A Cautionary Tale of Sex Tourism, Drugs, Alcohol, Prostitution & Suicide)