The story takes place in a Hereford black-and-white village
Nipper. A 4ft 11inch six and a half stone man, real name Alec Cuckson known as the village peeping tom.
Old Mary Kenton, deceased older woman. Was a tall heavy built woman, not fat, who lived in the village alone since her pregnant disgraced daughter Valery Kenton moved away 40 years ago.
Areala Kenton. Old Mary's Granddaughter and only beneficiary of Mary's will.
Algernon Cookson. Mary Kenton's solicitor.
Finding my past.
Areala had never been to the village in her life she had only come to hear of it with a letter she received from a solicitor, Mr A Cookson. The letter asked her to phone a number and arrange an appointment for a will reading which she was the sole beneficiary. The will, the last will and testament of her maternal grandmother.
She hadn't spoken to her mother since she left home when she joined the Army as a nurse. Her mother refused to talk to her about anything to do with her past. Areala didn't know who her father was, didn't know any grandparents, or cousins
When she asked her mum all she was told was she was a child of Christ.
Areala had worked out at an early age that her mum was a pork pie short of a picnic. It was bad enough being the first kid in her class at school to top 6ft. To do that as a girl at 12 years old and add that to the fact that by then she already had an enormous pair of boobs it's true to say Areala stood out a bit. Add to that her mum was voted by Areala's fellow students as the parent most likely to be carted off to the local loony bin. Early life wasn't a bed of roses for Areala.
Clive, was her only school friend. He was the smallest skinniest kid in the school. A boy who until Areala claimed him as her friend would hide outside the school gate until the assembly bell rang. He would then run as fast as his little legs would carry him inside to assembly and relative safety. It was the only way the poor little bugger got away without the playground bullies kicking the shit out of him every day. After Areala had explained, mostly with a wicked right hook that Clive was her friend the systematic beatings stopped for the little lad.
That was a long time ago. She had mates in the army, but her size intimidated people. She had several gay affairs long before she had a boyfriend. The only guy who chased her was an army Major, he was married and wanted Areala to spank his bottom. Areala tried and thought it fun, it gave her an interesting tingle. However his idea of as hard as you like and Areala's idea of hard were very different. The guy had some serious explaining to do to his wife. Inevitably she found out and the affair was promptly ended.
Areala met the solicitor at 9.30 on a Wednesday morning at his office in Leominster. He handed her the keys to a car, the house, and a cheque for £1,387,624.98. That caused a sharp intake of breath.
He also handed over the title to 6 other properties. No one in the Village knew but Areala's nan was the landlord of one of the two village pubs, the grocery shop and the butcher. She also rented out three domestic residences plus she now owned three farms. One unoccupied with most of its land sub let her other two farm tenants.
The solicitor was very happy to continue to act for her, he, and before him, his father had acted for her Grandmother for years. Just before she left his office handed her a letter. "It's perhaps beyond my duties to tell you this but I feel you should know your grandmother spent a considerable amount of money with me and others in my profession in trying to make contact with you." Finally, he handed Areala a large bunch of keys, keys to every door in the house, except this one. This is special, I can tell you more about it if you wish but it is your grandmother's express wish you see inside the room first.
At that he told me immediate business is over, we shook hands and parted company.
By 13.00 she was having lunch in her own Boozer. It was basic pub grub and very well cooked a darling of a little girl, little but a vivacious bubbly personality was the cook/server. She made an obvious pass at Areala.
The landlady was keen to brag about her pub. Pleased with the deal she had with the local land owner who she had never met and very proud that this pub was still pretty much the centre of village life. The landlady confided the deal was very beneficial. But she was also very proud that money was spent on the pub and subsidising entertainment once a fortnight.
Things were, to say the least looking up. Areala put the postcode of her new house in the satnav in her beat-up old mini. She followed it to a large double-fronted property on the edge of the village.
Areala had lived in various council flats, on city estates with her mum, or in army barracks. Nothing like this. It wasn't exactly a stately home but it was as the estate agents say a very desirable residence.
Before she even went inside Areala walked around what she considered to be the huge garden. She realised she didn't have a clue. Mown grass was easy but her idea of plant definition was "it's a tree" or "it's not a tree".
Walking round to the back of the house Areala was confronted by a 12-foot high brick wall. It appeared to run for 20 yards down the main garden and then turn at 90 degrees to run parallel to the back wall of the house.
At the junction with the house wall was a gate. It had no latch, just a keyhole with a big black iron escutcheon plate. On the bunch of keys the solicitor had handed over to her that morning was a big black iron key. Areala put it in the lock, it fitted, it turned and the gate opened on well-oiled hinges.
Inside was a secret walled garden. Half was planted with more plants of which Areala had no idea of the identity, the other half was a lawn so perfect you would expect to see old men bowling on it. The old men were not there, what was there were several statues, all of them nude and mostly in erotic poses and all apparently masturbating. The centre statue being the object of attention. At first glance, it appeared to be a threesome locked together for eternity.
One of the figures Areala first took was a man appearing to be balls deep into a woman and the third was on his knees with his mouth pressed against the centre figure.
She soon revised her thoughts, the figure balls deep in the centre figure had very prominent breasts and appeared to be wearing a harness around her loins. "Ohh My God" it was a strapon. It was a woman pegging a man. The centre figure had no breasts and the third figure had his ample member in its mouth. This hit the spot for Areala. "Ohh my God" she exclaimed. At that, the third figure moved.
"Who the fuck are you shouted Areala." At first, Areala thought the statue sucker was a child. He had a tiny cock with no pubic hair but he looked older than she was. At least 40 thought Areala.
"I'm the gardener", he plaintively wailed. "I'm Alec Cuckson, I have tended this garden for over 20 years."
"Do you always try to blow a statue on every visit?" Alex didn't answer that question he answered the one he wished Areala had asked. "I worked for Mrs Kenton as her gardener/handyman ever since I left school." He was covering his inadequacies with his hands, there were no clothes for him in sight.
"Who are you err, Miss?"
I'm Mrs Kenton's granddaughter Ms Kenton, Ms Areala Kenton. If you won't answer my first question answer this. Why were you trying to blow the statue?
"I wash the car and"
"If you don't answer the questions I ask I'll call the police. I have photos!" Areala was lying about the last bit but as she had her phone in her hand Alec believed her.
"I have to he mumbled."
Areala laughed out loud.
"I do" Alec sobbed. "If I don't I don't get paid and I will have to move out."
"Move out of where"
"The garage, I belong in the garage, I belong to Mistress Mary Kenton. I drive the car as well as do the garden. And other stuff."
"What other stuff?
"I can't tell you"
"You had better figure a way out to do that little man. Or I call the police."
Mistress told me not to, please don't make me, I loved my mistress and I miss her. I know she has gone but I don't want to disobey her, I can't. Please don't call the police. There is a letter for you in the punishment room. It's locked and I'm not allowed in on my own.
The poor little man was crying like a baby. I'm so sad he said to me through real tears. Are you allowed in the punishment room with me Alec?
