I spent a pleasant afternoon sitting fishing from the gunwhale for my tea, before finding mooring at Catworth boatyard.
Wandering along the dock at dusk, the small round windows of the various barges were lit from within with a homely glow, and I turned inland to purchase some much needed supplies.
The streets were mostly deserted with the glow of streetlights illuminating the descending dusk, but as I passed the 'The Running Pump' pub, I heard the familiar rambunctious laughter of the Orfords.
They were still in their Victorian outfits, grouped around the pub's evening menu.
Looking over from the other side of the road, I could make out five figures huddled in a group, attired in top hats, bonnets and great fur coats against the freezing evening air.
I assumed Jed's new wife was not accompanying them until I realized that the shadowy figure lapping from the dog bowl outside the pub was a woman.
She remained lapping at the bowl that dogs must have shared throughout the day until, having chosen their menu, Jed and another man walked over to the kneeling woman and helped her up by her elbows.
It was only when the young woman was on her feet that the extremity of her tight-laced corset made the need for aid apparent. Her petite frame was restricted to such an extent that her waist seemed 40cm in circumference at most.
She seemed crushed at waist level, with the curve of the busk then giving a place for her displaced flesh from her waist to go. Her small breasts were pushed high as though on display and she was forbidden a coat. Instead her naked shoulders, arms and cleavage shone pale and soft in the streetlight.
Where her companions wore long and lined skirts against the cold, the new bride suffered the indignity of a shirred corset skirt that was both sheer and short, the embroidered hem falling only to the top of her still naked thighs.
Once the men had helped her stand she turned, faced her husband, and curtsied, lifting her short skirt and exposing her panties to him. She repeated the gesture for the other man before the group entered 'The Running Pump.'
I carried on to the store and bought my supplies, including a new Barlow knife and a set of cards with women on the back and went back to the barge for my fish supper, but I couldn't get the image of Jed's wife out of my mind.
She bore all her suffering with such dignity and those curtsies had been a charm in themselves.
The way her buttocks had pushed out slightly so that the very bottoms of her cheeks peeked from under the translucent hem, the way her wrists had bent up slightly as she lifted the hem of her skirt. Her submission was beautiful in its earnestness and acceptance.
A fish supper in my belly, I found myself walking back into town to satiate my growing infatuation with Jed's mystifying new wife.
I found the Orfords' in pride of place at the largest table in the traditional dining area. Petunia noticed me immediately and with a squeal, stood up and demanded an extra chair for me.
The mood was again jovial and light hearted with lugubrious amounts of champagne doing the rounds. Jed's wife alone sat serene, her naked arms by her side and her hands resting in her lap as she delicately chewed. The others had finished their meals and were knocking back the champagne.
As I sat down she glanced up at me, but blushing, immediately lowered her head and carried on chewing.
"uh...hi...I'm...er...Samael..." I said, missing her eyes the moment they were lowered.
"Oh, do stop being silly, liveaboard and join us. The outsider is there to be talked about, not too." Petunia said, tapping the empty seat beside her for me to join her.
"I'd still like to at least say hi."
Jed's wife's eyes flashed up at mine for a brief moment and something curled contentedly at the corner of her mouth.
"Hi, I'm Judy" He eyes immediately lowered again and her cheeks flushed.
She seemed so unassuming and gentle a creature among the flamboyance of the Orfords. Petunia, spotting Judy's slight smile, immediately linked her arm in mine and used her free hand to turn my cheek towards herself and handed me a glass of champagne.
"I'm doing a little experiment: Victorian doctors believed that, in a tightly-laced corset, the stomach would be unable to churn correctly, making it difficult to digest food completely, causing constipation and making it difficult for the wearer to eat a sizable meal."
Petunia leaned across the table and prodding a potato with a fork, held it before Judy's mouth.
"So far the difficulty in eating a sizable meal seems to bare out." Petunia giggled and shoved the potato against Judy's lips making her take it into her mouth.
The company fared much as the breakfast had that morning with much carefree banter and joviality, usually based around tales of their own derring-do or follies, but entertaining none the less to a stranger like myself.
Throughout, Judy sat poised and quiet, delicately eating with her stomach so tightly constricted by the tight-laced corset.
By the time she had finished her meal the other members of the group were quite intoxicated from the champagne.
Petunia, ever so vigilant of me paying the least attention to Judy, noticed me admiring Judy's small bust, pushed up, as it was, by the busk of her corset and immediately offered her own cleavage for my approval.
"Don't you think big boobies are the best fun, darling? Come say hi!" Petunia said, pulling my head into her exposed cleavage and shaking her midriff so that my face was smothered in her breasts.
When I freed myself I glanced over at Judy, feeling embarrassed and humiliated. Petunia caught my glance and went staggering around the table to stand behind Judy and then nonchalantly lifted Judy's naked breasts out of the corset, leaving them exposed over the whalebone busk.