Chapter 1
Elizabeth Carrington, husband Hugh and daughter Ronni were at dinner on the patio and the conversation resumed after the maid disappeared into the interior of the home.
"I repeat," Elizabeth said to 22-year-old Ronni. "Why can't you get a decent boyfriend of the quality that all your girlfriends appear to have landed?"
"Does it occur to you mother that potential suitors do not parade themselves like cattle?"
"Hugh!"
Her business tycoon husband busily shorting green beans on his plate before loading them on to his fork according to grades and lengths, didn't need to know the nature of that urgent demand for support.
"Ronni!" he called, sounding infuriated, that of course he didn't have loaded.
"Sorry dad, mother," Ronni said sounding angelic, although saintly she was not.
"Mother, let me switch to a structural design degree at the School of Engineering and I'll bring home the bacon that you and your society friends can bestow with your fake attempts of verbal seduction."
"Ronni, I'm sick of the time this sorry mess has been dragging on, ever since you were fifteen. Never once have you produced me with an outstanding male worthy of being approved as your dating girlfriend. Promise me you'll produce a noteworthy candidate from that mass of commoners and that means the majority of lads at engineering school dear, and I'll have Mrs Sweetman (the housekeeper) manage the switch for you."
"Is that a deal, mum?"
"That's a deal. I'll wind up Mrs Sweetman in the morning."
The university eggheads attempted to block the switch, with Mrs Sweetman receiving a letter that the esteemed university did not allow students to switch degrees mid-term on a sheer whim.
Furious, Ronni wrote to the registrar of the Selection Board (in recess) demanding that the board re-convene immediately so that she could make representations in person.
The registrar said to his two secretaries, "Who the fuck is this student?"
Secretary one: Veronica Elizabeth Carrington, a 4th year architectural student.
Registrar: That doesn't explain her status in our society and society in general.
Secretary two: Ronni otherwise known as Veronica, is the only child of Sir Hugh Carrington who graduated from this university but there is no record of him ever being a substantive donor. The mother is named Elizabeth.
Registrar: What the aggressive socialite?
Secretary two: Indeed.
Registrar: Get me a print-out of all the information you have on this lass and her father's association with this university. I'll get the chairman of the board to sit with a subcommittee to hear this lass' submission.
Ronni attended the meeting of the subcommittee without the knowledge of her parents. There was an adjournment of the meeting while she had a private meeting with the chairman, and after that she was advised she could make the switch immediately.
At dinner that evening, Ronni told her parents although the university year was almost three months underway, she had been given approval to switch to her chosen degree course at the School of University on Monday.
"Good for you dear, I'm delighted," said her mother, blowing Ronni a kiss. "When will I see this new Roman god-like man of yours, darling?"
"For fuck sake Elizabeth, first allow the girl the chance to step through the door at the School of Engineering on Day One on Monday."
"I would think three weeks max, mum."
Hugh said, "What's the catch regarding your switch? There's always a price to pay for a mid-year switch at my old university."
"It's virtually nothing, and so relax. There are three conditions:
- I must complete my architectural degree that I proposed doing anyway.
- That I work hard to catch up on my course work. As it happens, I've already done architectural design studies so that condition is well underway.
- That I persuade you to make a donation to the Engineering School's library extension."
"Ah, there's the catch. No problem. I'll regard it as an investment in my daughter."
Two weeks and two days after starting at school of engineering, Ronni called Mrs Sweetman the housekeeper to say she would be accompanied by a male guest for dinner that evening.
Mrs Sweetman reported that information to Lady Elizabeth who erupted angrily when Mrs Sweetman admitted she hadn't asked for the name of the dinner guest and essential personal details.
"All Ronni said he was a male guest."
"Yes, you silly woman, of course she said that. But how much more information would she had provided had she been asked?"
"Perhaps nothing more as she wanted it to be a surprise."
"That sounds like a plausible statement to me, dear," said Elizabeth's mellow husband. "I suggest you accept it."
"Well at least that part of your brain is working, Mrs Sweetman. Off you go back to your duties."
"Yes ma'am; straight away ma'am."
"That's right, make me sound like an Ogress."
Hugh and Elizabeth emptied half the bottle of gin waiting for their daughter and first new boyfriend in many months (that they knew about). Elizabeth was drinking to cope with anxiety, Hugh was drinking to cope with Elizabeth unable to cope well with her mind virtually in orbit.
Eventually, on the dot of 6.30, normal dinner-call time, the front door bells chimed.
"They're here," Elizabeth said, grabbing Hugh frantically and kissing him all over his face.
"Of course, they're here, that was the front door bell," Hugh said pragmatically. "You weren't expecting anyone else at dinner time. were you?"
"I don't know what I'm expecting except from not another pregnancy," she wheezed.
He complained, "You'll have lipstick all over your face and mine and..."
"No, we don't Diddles, I'm thoughtfully wearing sealed gloss."
"What the fuck is that?"
"Exactly what I said, sealed gloss."
"Eh?"
"Miss Ronni with her dinner guest, Mr Nick Creek," announced the butter, Alf.
"Nick what?" Elizabeth shouted in shock.
"It's okay, mum. He's Australian."
"He's also wearing shorts," Elizabeth shouted. "No one has worn shorts to this historic table in 500 years."
"There's a first time for everything," said her husband, earning a murderous glare.
"Please don't get overly-excited, Elizabeth. It's only me, Nick. And I feel obliged to say that you'd be lucky if the table is even 100 years old. You'd be surprised if you knew of the level of fidelity used as gospel by antique dealers to secure a top price. I know, because I worked for a couple of dealers during my school breaks."
"Mother, I suggest you take Nick as you truly find him," Ronni said. "Be warned, he's not your usual young male wagging his tail and looking for his next conquest. I mean, take this evening for example. Have you ever experienced a young male called you Elizabeth without you yelling to Alf to fetch you the shotgun?"
"I... uh... no actually, and yet while I was aware he took the liberty, I had no urge to flail... Omigod, what am I saying?"
"It's cool mother; it's quite a usual female reaction to Nick. He naturally treats females as he does the males except, he looks as their bosom rather than their groin."
"W-what do you t-think of my b-bosom, Nick?"
"You ought to let them hang a little looser, Elizabeth. Having them strung up tightly like that with padding to make them appears in a shape that they aren't will be making them perform as if they feel they are being strangled to death."
"Omigod, what useful advice."
Nick said not a problem, and pulling out a pocket knife and opening it, he went behind Lady Elizabeth and cut her bra shoulder straps.
"Omigod, I feel free," she crooned into the sky. "Mister Creek, you may be our house guest for as long as you wish and as far as I'm concerned, you may have our daughter which-way, whatever-way, you wish."
"Thanks Elizabeth, but actually that's for Ronni to decide."
"Whatever, and should she be slow coming across, you may try tapping me on the hip."
Surprisingly, despite those initial shocks, the evening meal cruised along rather well.
The parents found that their daughter had met Ronni at the School of Engineering where he was completing a masters degree in structural engineering design and he worked occasionally as a junior lecturer to first-year undergraduates.
Late night, Elizabeth went into Ronni's room half-expecting to see Ronni and Nick banging away in abandonment. But all she found was Ronni reading in bed.
"Where's Nick?"
"Mum, despite your off-the-wall thoughts about the morality of young people, Nick and I haven't done it yet. He requested Alf to find him a bedroom and mom, you are to stay out of it."
"Why?"
"Well... um well... um Nick is too young to be corrupted."
"Oh, that's pretty impressive reasoning, darling. Do you think I should go to your father and asked him for sex?"
"Mum!"
"What?"
"You expressed that without love or affection making it sound as if you were about to embark on a visit to a sausage factory."
"That's a rather impressive description of the process, darling."
"Whatever, mother. Don't forget to insist on a condom being used, for reasons of hygiene."
"Oh, we ran out weeks ago."
"Mother, in the morning ask Nick for a handful. He always has a box of 144 on hand."
"Darling, may I ask how is it you know that?"
"Goodnight mother, I must get my eight hours of relaxing sleep," Ronni said, putting her book aside and reaching for the bedside lamp and obviously paused. waiting for her mother to leave the room, a significant question about condoms hanging unanswered.
Chapter 2
Next morning, Elizabeth found out which of the eleven guest rooms that Nick occupied and rushed there with coffee.
She lightly kissed him awake, threw open the curtains and said brightly, "How is the morning boner?"
"I beg your pardon?"
