Seeing how enamoured Lady Sally was with the
Camorra
, Captain Wyndham held back from expressing his concerns regarding an organisation with a reputation for ruthlessness and violence that surpassed even the
Mafia
.
His immediate problem was loading the massive statue onto the airship. It was too tall to stand upright anywhere in the gondola. Luckily, the airship did have a hold for storage. The statue was hauled into this (an operation requiring the crew and lots of rope), wrapped in sheets of linen to protect it, laid on its side, and secured into position by the ropes. The captain hoped Lady Sally would not need a speedy getaway because, what with the statue which weighed tons, and the thousands of tiles for her Turkish Bath, the airship was going to be sluggish.
Dinner time was lively. The party drank lots of wine, including many bottles of
Brunello di Montalcino
, Lady Sally's favourite wine from her Tuscan vineyard, crates of which had been loaded onto her airship for the wine cellars of Rudston Hall.
The captain joined the party just as Signore Fellatio was showing off his tattoos to Lady Sally. This included the one on his chest which depicted the back of a naked woman with the inscription (in Italian)
in your anus I have lost half of my cock
, which she found highly amusing.
In the morning, they prepared for the outing to Pompeii. Signore Fellatio generously arranged to supply a procession of horse and carts for the party and their lavish picnic-lunch.
The dock-side was busy, the flamboyant English lady in her cool linen dress and parasol with her strange entourage attracting lots of attention. Once again, the captain, in his roll-neck jumper, fedora hat and flying boots, envied the lightweight suits of the other gentlemen.
His curiosity was aroused by observing people at the docks. Most of the seething throng were the locals who had greeted the airship so enthusiastically. There were the burly Italian dockers in their working clothes, the pedlars selling their wares, the women in peasant clothes and headscarves, and the bare-footed children trying to scrounge sweet cakes from the crowds.
Amongst them were figures who didn't fit in. There were individuals sat at the cafes who clearly weren't natives of Naples. Others appeared to be engrossed in Italian newspapers, yet every so often they dropped a corner to observe surreptitiously what was going on at the dock-side. The captain got the distinct impression Lady Sally and her entourage were being watched. Perhaps these were the members of the
Camorra
offered to provide 'discreet' protection, but he doubted it.
"Should we take the lightning blunderbusses with us?" he suggested to Lady Sally.
"I don't think it's necessary, captain, but if you think so, then by all means, go and get one."
For some inexplicable reason, the captain felt uneasy, so he scurried back to the airship to collect a rifle before the carts set off for the archaeological site.
Lady Sally toured the remains of Pompeii with interest. She marvelled at how perfectly the streets and buildings had been preserved by the volcanic ash. She was fascinated by the petrified bodies, frozen in time at the point of their deaths. She wondered at the eerie sensation of walking the empty avenues of the deserted city. She imagined what its inhabitants must have felt when they were, unexpectedly, pummelled with volcanic rock and then suffocated in layers of ash.
Having taken in the wonders of the site it was not long before Lady Sally was leading them to the locations she most wanted to see; the baths and the brothel, with their notorious erotic frescoes. She paid the guardian a handsome sum to unlock the gates and allow her access.
Lady Sally stood in the stone chamber which acted as the entrance hall for the brothel. The walls were surrounded by erotic figures painted in ochre, in earthy yellows, browns or greens, and bold reds. They were well-preserved.
"How wonderful," gasped Lady Sally. "To think these have been preserved for over two thousand years, and they are still perfectly clear. The Ancient Romans certainly appreciated sexual indulgence. What magnificent images. I should convert one of the rooms in Rudston Hall and have the wall painted with scenes of me punishing my slaves."
"Yes, I can just see that, madam. Imagine what future archaeologists would make of it," offered her maid.
"What an interesting thought, Victoria. They would speculate on what sadistic pleasures took place in the house, on whether they were real or the products of someone's perverted imagination. They would look at the pictures of me and marvel at the seductive female capable of entrapping men into scenes of bondage and flagellation."