You should read 'Banished to Purgatory?' and 'Banished (2) before you read this.
*
As I strolled down the slight hill through the light drizzle towards the cannery, I reflected on life's strange twists and turns. I had been turfed out of the family home by Benjamin Goodhew after he and my wife Bethany had discovered me cumming all over the broad white arse of the elderly household cook. I had been banished to a Goodhew owned cannery located in a small coastal village, ostensibly to assist in the management. However, within 48 hours of my arrival, Jim Fletcher the real manager had succumbed to the ravages of cancer leaving me to fend for myself. Just as importantly I had been taken in by Maude Biggs, a big strapping woman who found out what my weakness was; large breasted older tarts who loved to fuck. Before I had left to come to work, she had inveigled out of me the story of my adolescent teachings at the massive breast of my old wet nurse, Elsie.
The day had started well with a couple of great fucks and some generous cock sucking and clit lashing. Maude trailed behind me down the hill so that some of the people might consider our relationship to be lodger and landlady even though she had admitted to having already confided in her best friend Betty. I had work to do, serious work. The cannery was hanging on by the bare threads. The fishermen provided the best seafood in the country but it was turned into cat food or supplied at ridiculous prices to the biggest grocery chain in the world. The fishermen were underpaid, the cannery workers were underpaid and the town showed a distinct lack of go ahead. It was almost forgotten. What started as a small collection of rough houses around a picturesque well sheltered cove had progressed little over the last 50 years or so. The cannery was the newest addition and the pub was a converted house. There was one electricity line direct to the cannery but I had my suspicions as to why the bills were so high.
Two trawlers lay alongside the dock and crates of fish were being hauled up for their innards. The hum of the slicing and dicing conveyor belts was clearly audible but nearly drowned out by the squawking of the gulls as they fed on the refuse that exited at the far end of the shed.
I wandered through the door and waved at the lines of ladies at the slicing and dicing belts. Compared to old Jim in his tea and food stained cardigan I must have looked completely out of place. I had my royal blue shirt with old school tie complete with blazer and slacks. I knew that my name had caused considerable mirth among a community of Bills, Jims and Bobs. However, as Derek Leigh-Mallory I couldn't help my parentage but had enough gumption and family connections to try to help the town and its motley inhabitants. Why I do not know. Big hearted, as well as big breasted Maude had told me of the daily struggle and old Jim had died a frustrated man trying to do his best. I climbed the stairs to the office and on entering was greeted by the sight of the old crone that had been Jim's office 'girl' standing there with her arms akimbo, a small cardboard carton at her feet.
"Jim would have been at work two hours ago," she sniffed. "I have been here since the cannery opened and will soon be joining Jim in his grave. My son has found me a nice place in a nursing home along the coast and is picking me up in an hour. You will find details of my banking arrangements on your desk." Off she went, down the stairs and thankfully out of my life.
I needed help and fast. Down the stairs I went and sought out Maude. I drew her outside away from the noise and told her of my dilemma. I told her I needed a girl – that threw her for a minute – who was computer literate and smart. I didn't care how ugly she was as long as the she had the necessary qualifications. And I needed her now. She nodded and went inside. I followed and saw her talking with one of the old filleters who followed up a concentrated frown with a big smile. She took off her smock and took off out the door. Maude gave me the thumbs up and I went up the stairs to tackle the enormous task of getting organised to do business.
I had just finished emptying out the single filing cabinet into piles of like matters when the door burst open to admit a female wrestler, or at least, someone built like one. She had short cropped dirty blonde hair, a plain homely face and a bulky body hidden by a bulky overcoat. She was as tall as I, youngish with intelligent grey eyes that looked me up and down and widened as she took in my attire. She looked around the office at the piles of files and then back to me. "Me mam tells me you're looking for an office girl that knows computers and such like?"
"Absolutely but, what qualifies you for the job? I need somebody who is really bright with computers and can get on with the job."
"Well, Mister Leigh-Mallory, I may look like a bricklayer but I passed out top of my class at university in economics and computer science. I trod the boards for 6 months looking for a job but all they wanted was somebody who looked like Marilyn Monroe rather than anybody with brains. I've been home for a week or so when me mam told me you wanted somebody like me. If it is looks you're after you can stuff your job up your fancy arse. If it's brains, then it's me cos you won't find anything else in this place." She put her hands on her hips and glared at me.
