I think that my father's younger sister, my Aunt Isobel sucked limes or lemons, for she always seemed to have a sour face. She lived in the country and twice a year, from as young as I can remember, came for a weeks holiday to our house. Aunt Isobel was twelve years junior to my father, who was the eldest in the family, of four boys and Isobel. She never married, but run a country store, come Post Office, really come everything. Only once, when I was fourteen, did my father take me with him on is infrequent visits to Aunt Isobel.
The day I was there, I heard nothing but ‘Don't touch that.' ‘Don't touch this.' So any time that my father asked me to come with him, I found an excuse to stay at home.
That was many years in the past, I had joined the army and was now on two weeks leave to attend my fathers funeral. He was only 64 years old, when the result of smoking all his life caught up with him. He died of a severe heart attack. At least the doctors said he never felt a thing, it was that quick. I thought the world of my father, and it shook me that he had been taken just in the year he was to retire. He always said he would spend his days just drowning worms at the side of a river. He loved his fishing, all those hopes dashed in just a few seconds.
Aunt Isobel had come down by coach, she always travelled by coach because she couldn't drive. She and my father were very close, and she was sobbing as much as my mother.
"Duncan, I want you to drive Aunt Isobel home, she is in no fit state to go by coach, if she is still upset you stay with her for a few days."
That was a prospect I wasn't looking forward to, remembering the last time I was there.
The entire journey to her place, which was three hours by car, she sat and stared out of the side window. The only thing she said was "You are a big and good looking man, just like your father." That was the total words spoken all the way. She looked as pale as milk, there was no colour at all in her cheeks, and the black dress she wore only accentuated her paleness. To be truthful I was getting a bit worried about her.
We pulled up to her place and on entering her home she just collapsed on the floor. God, what do I do now I thought, I can't leave her lying on the floor. I picked her up and having a rough idea where her bedroom was, carried her there and placed her on her bed. I loosened her coat and remembering my first aid, I learnt about ten years ago, I reached down her back and undid the clasp on her bra. She was wearing a dress which wasn't tight, and I daren't search for any other tight items. I slipped off her coat and shoes, and pulled the quilt up to her neck, she seemed to be breathing easier now. So I left her bedroom. The house was still as spic and span as I remembered. I remembered what my father had said. "Dust wouldn't dare lie on Isobel's furniture." It looked that way now, there was the smell of furniture polish and a faint lingering smell of perfume.
I went to the kitchen and put the kettle to boil on the gas cooker. Finding the makings and the tea-pot, maybe a cup of tea would help Isobel I thought. Again my first aid training, the treatment for everything except stomach wounds was a cup of tea.
Whilst the tea was brewing, I tiptoed into the bedroom and Isobel was watching me. "Did you put me to bed and undo my bra?"
"Yes, but through the dress it was just to slacken everything tight."
"You never checked for anything else?"
"No, why should I have?"
"Never mind, what is it you wanted to say?"
"I've made a cup of tea and was wondering if you would like one."
"Yes please, milk only. Duncan I feel unwell, I would like to rest a bit, but I will have the tea first."
I took in her tea and sat and had mine in the lounge. I had been sitting there for about half an hour when she called out. "Duncan quick!"
I ran in and she was retching, I ran back into the kitchen and grabbed a bowl and towel and returned to Aunt Isobel's bedroom. I sat on the bed and put my arm around her and held the bowl so she could be sick, I noticed that she had already been sick on her polished floor, but that could easily be cleaned up once she stopped retching.
"Oh I am so ashamed Duncan, you seeing me like this."
"Aunty, don't worry, you are family, so what is there to be ashamed about."
When she had finished and lay back I took the bowl and washed it out, got a mop and bucket with some disinfectant, I cleaned up the mess on the floor. As I was doing this she watched me all the time.
"Duncan please call me Isobel, I would like to get up and go to the bathroom, I need a pee."
She got out of bed and her legs gave under her. I grabbed and got two handfuls of breast, God, they felt fantastic. I was expecting floppy breasts, but what I got hold of was nice and firm and a good handful each.
"I'm sorry Isobel, I didn't mean to grab you there."
