(It was 1885 and, as a nineteen year old boy, I was staying with family friends at their large house in the English Midlands. I was there to learn French conversation under the tutelage of Miss. Marie; the family had two 18 year old twins, Anna and Sarah who were also learning French with me, this is part four of my tale)
Following Sarah's coughing fit and 'delicate condition' it was decided to abandon our lessons for the rest of Friday. Anna took Sarah up to their room, which was on the same long corridor as mine but nearer to their parents. I was left with Miss. Marie, who stood in a dark green day-dress which was pushed out by masses of cotton petticoats. Not one inch of provocative lace could be seen, worse luck.
She sat down on the sofa and stared up at me." Perhaps I have been a little harsh with you both; I may need to rethink my methods." She spoke in carefully measured tones.
"I was wondering what happened to the Italian boy, Carlo?" I interjected, in an off hand manner.
"Well it took a while, but he became surprisingly good at it," and she glared at me intensely knowing exactly what I was thinking. She spoke more openly as the two girls were now not in the school room.
"His mother. Mrs. Scanalli, wrote to me sometime later and said that she had problems with both her housemaids. Apparently they were forever cleaning Carlo's room particularly when he was having his afternoon siesta. In her long letter she also happened to mention that many more village girls had applied for 'maid-training' than usual, which Mrs. Scanalli often used to provide, but had to stop, because her own housemaids objected and refused to help. I believe Carlo is now at Milan University, reading medicine," she said and I was left in complete confusion.
Later that evening, over dinner, the girls' parents reminded us all that they were shortly going to their other smaller home in Ireland for three weeks, and that they were shutting down part of the house, including the West Room which was to be redecorated while they were away. They were taking their housekeeper, ladies maid and Charlotte. 'Cook' would remain in charge. Most of the other servants including the parlour maid had been given one week off to attend to family matters if they so wished.
The next week was taken up with further French tutoring in the school room. Miss. Marie became genuinely pleased with our progress and the Friday incident, of the previous week, was well and truly forgotten. I had formed a comfortable bond with the two eighteen-year old girls, having been in their company for almost two weeks and enjoying their vivacity and girlish, almost childish, behaviour and naΓ―ve sense of humour. I only needed to mention the word "Jelly, "and they giggled loudly, especially Sarah. Their bodies always moved in an exquisite manner beneath their crisp well- laundered wide skirted 'Alice' dresses, and many was the time I felt aroused.
On one occasion, feeling devilish, I asked Miss Marie what the French for 'wank' was, as it was not listed in the French dictionary. "Miss Marie said she had never heard of such a word," and asked Anna and Sarah whether they knew the word 'wank'? They both said that they had never heard of it and did not know what it meant, although I noticed that Anna appeared a little flushed.
"What does it mean David? Is it a noun, verb or what?" insisted Miss. Marie. I explained that it meant 'to give oneself immense pleasure' as in the verb 'to wank' in other words 'I wank, you wank, he wanks, we wank, you, (plural) wank, they wank, and so on.
"And I assume the other tenses' declinations are regular too?" she asked.
"Of course," I said, trying not to laugh." Here is an example. If I had just enjoyed an Opera, say 'Figaro' I would say to fellow opera goers afterwards that I had 'given myself immense pleasure' by attending the performance. I could simply say in a loud voice to them all "I HAVE WANKED" or perhaps more subtly "I HAVE JUST WANKED IN THE AUDITORIUM," I beamed, thinking I was getting my own back on what Miss. Marie had done to Sarah and I. "Thank you David, I will remember those phrases and next time I am at the Ladies Choral Society I will know what to say," she said, writing something down in pencil.
Anna looked at me and mouthed silently "you are a terrible man Mr. Shaw, "I grinned back wondering how on earth she knew the slang word for male masturbation?
On Saturday the preparations were complete for the departure of my hosts.