Nubile Female Rural Visits
By EgmontGrigor2020
Chapter 1
Remote-living bachelor, Keegan Cameron, was on the front porch bathed in rising sunlight from the east, after hand-washing shirts, underpants, socks and handkerchiefs and hanging them to dry on the clothes line under the ceiling of part of the porch.
The fiction writer eyed the small blue car heading slowly along the rough farm track to the former shepherd's cottage, aimed his fork at the Toyota and muttered, "Fuck off."
Keegan was living in isolation to write in peace, not to be pestered by life insurance salesmen, pollsters or lost tourists having made the wrong turn off the highway to northern beach resorts.
The car stopped six lengths, perhaps seven, from the front steps.
Keegan's interest jumped.
The driver had long black hair and dark glasses AND twin smears of bright red lipstick.
"Wow! A fucking woman."
Dumbfounded, he sat motionless.
The driver unwound herself from the car, obviously signalling that she was tall, oh, and slim as well. Good combo.
She leaned over the top of the open door, an absolute no-no as male drivers would know, and in pure dulcets, called, "That's a most unfriendly welcome."
"Want coffee?"
"Yes please, black and no sugar and your emerging hospitality is appreciated."
He was already standing and turning to go inside when she added to that sentence, "Keegan."
Keegan continued inside, thinking she was unknown to him. She must be a cop or a debt collector. He was an unintentional debtor because he rarely went into town to clear his mailbox, wasn't connected to the Internet but possessed a mobile phone.
Although having no desire to read newspapers, he watched TV news at 6.00 every evening to remain informed about the big stuff among the largely transmitted incredible nonsense.
Keegan returned to the porch with two mugs of coffee to find the cheeky bitch was sprawled out in his chair, the only seating available.
He waited in vain for an apology. Instead she moved almost luscious lips to say, "Well, will be handing me my coffee?"
Now, he thought rude bitch. Whoops, his mother had always urged him never to even think of the word bitch.
"Sorry."
"What for?"
He sipped from one mug and then the other, as she watched.
Keegan then said, "Which mug do you want," expecting her to recoil in horror.
"Whatever."
She took the offered mug from his left hand and sipped from it, showing no sign of distaste or revulsion or any alternative that she was capable of expressing after having seen him sip from that mug.
Then she practically floored him, saying quietly, "You father describes you as an educated hard bastard, ruined by Army service abroad. The term 'hard bastard' appears to have some merit, 'educated' could be debatable and I think 'Army service in a war zone' would be capable of removing some of the shine from any serviceman or servicewoman."
"You may leave now," he said politely.
She openly laughed, displaying magnificent white enamel.
"God, you are in control of yourself," she mused. "I had expected a ranting."
"So, you are not leaving?"
"No, not for a while, and pardon me if I further trample across your sensitivities."
Keegan decided she was a plucky b..., um, plucky woman.
"How is it a person like you knows my dad?"
"He was one of my senior lecturers in law during my studies for a Bachelor of Nursing. We reconnected two years ago when hospitalized for injuries in the vehicle accident that almost took the life of your mother, leaving her a semi-cripple. He currently is in hospital recovering from a lower back operation as the post-accident operation was only partially successful."
"So that's the connection?"
"Partly. Going further, I have been living with him for the past eighteen months doing his washing, helping him with housekeeping and cooking and fulfilling our sexual needs mutually."
Keegan frowned and said she hadn't needed to add that last bit and she said it was her intent to provide the full picture.
"Weren't you aware that your father continues an interest in having sex?"
"It hadn't occurred to me to think about it."
"I see."
"You see what?"
"As I said, I see upon hearing your confession."
Keegan bristled, "That's clearly a distortion on what I said. I had been under no necessity to contemplate whether my father had retained an interest in having sex."
"Well he does, and he's very good at it."
"Thank you."
"How polite of you. In case you are interested, my name is Ella Mannering."
"Hi, Ella. I'm Keegan Cameron, but you are aware of that. By any chance, are you related to the renowned landscape painter, Steven Mannering?"
"He's my uncle, my father's older brother. How is it you know of Steven?"
"His portrait of my mother when she was twenty-seven hangs in my bedroom here."
"But that cannot be. Steven has only painted five portraits and... omigod, what is the name of the portrait of your mother?"
"It's titled, 'Woman in a Wheat Field'."
"Omigod, the missing portrait. Steven retained the portrait of his mother, two of the others are in private collections and the fourth is in the National Art Gallery. That painting of your mother is valued at many thousands of dollars and the value would probably double, perhaps even treble if it suddenly appears and is authenticated."
"Please, Ella. Say not a word to anyone about this. It's the only thing I took when dad told me to take anything of mum's left behind that I wanted after she was discharged from hospital went permanently to a small private care facility. I grew up every day looking at that painting in our lounge and when I was eighteen or nineteen, mum told me she had an affair with Steven Mannering two years after her marriage and soon after that my gran commissioned him to paint her daughter at 'the peak of her beauty'.
"Omigod, how romantic."
"Really? I thought mum had been a slut but forgave her as she'd continue on to be regarded as the top female lawyer and indeed one of the top three lawyers in our city."
Keegan asked softly, "Do you wish to see the painting?"
"Yes please, and I pledge my lips will be sealed. Your father has never mentioned the painting to me and I'll make no mention about it, even to him. Are you aware he's now an Associate-Professor?"
"Yes."
"Actually, that was a test to see if you would lie and say no. Two days ago, when I began a week's break - I lecture on nursing studies - I was cleaning the house and removing junk when I came across your letter congratulating your father on his promotional honour. I was feeling bored and decided to visit you as your address was included, I suppose for return mail."
"Yes, he replied in a chatty manner but made no mention of you."
"Well, I'm only a girlfriend and there have been others."
"Hmmm, the webs we cast around ourselves."
