Chapter 14: “I’m a game young lady!”

The Euston Hotel, London

Edmund Molloy, journalist for the Daily Courier has spent an evening in the Babylon Exploration Society, an expensive private brothel, with his best friend William Britten and Lord James Hoxton. Hoxton has invited Molloy and Britten down to his birthday party weekend; a riotous event that involves many of the girls from the Babylon, including the girl with whom Molloy lost his virginity, the Japanese, Hoshimi.

Next morning, Britten and I were having breakfast in the splendid dining room of the Ritz, on Piccadilly. He had kindly paid for my room, once more, once we had staggered out of the Babylon Exploration Society in the early hours of the morning.  I looked out of the restaurant window at Green Park, feeling rather ill and somewhat guilty.  Guilty that I had been with prostitutes again and guilty that I had copulated with them with no thought as to their feelings or desires.  I also felt guilty because I had taken Hoshimi rather aggressively and was worried I may have hurt her, although she did not complain.  But of course these girls could not complain, as paid playthings of rich men or their guests.  I felt a sense of revulsion as strong as the unpleasant feeling in my stomach caused by too much drink the night before.  I had gone to the clerk's desk close to the stairs and asked them to arrange a bouquet of flowers to be sent to Hoshimi.  I wrote her a brief note and gave them the address.  Te concierge smiled and said that they were often asked to send gifts to the young ladies there.  I blushed, of course.

Britten and I sat in the dining room in silence, sipping our coffee and waiting for our devilled kidneys, which Britten assured me would be the perfect antidote to the port and Champagne we had consumed the previous night. 

“A mixed Champagne and port hangover is different from a pure port or Champagne one!” he mused, eventually.

“Well they all feel equally vile, although I feel better now than I did first thing!” I answered, gesturing at the waiter for more coffee.

 “Yes. I do too!” he said. “So, how did you enjoy your first orgy? Mine too, I should add.” I had not raised the subject and wondered whether it would be one of those things you didn’t mention afterwards. The evening had culminated in Hoxton and William taking Anna at the same time, with her like a delicious sandwich filling between two slices of bread. I was surprised at Britten’s behaviour but he had had more to drink that I had.  I was surprised he could perform so...rigidly... given his alcoholic intake but he had had no problems in that area.  I shook my head.  Some of the images coming back to me were truly shocking.  Nevertheless, I knew I had to write them down before I forgot about them.

“Well, I found the whole experience passing strange!  Intimacy between people, I think, should be just that; intimate. Not a performance!” I said.

“Well you certainly seemed to embrace it by the end. Taking Hoshimi from behind, like a dog,” he grinned.

“It was a new position for me.  Edith will not be taken in that way, as it reminds her of her husband, as that is his preferred manner.” Britten sat there, smiling.

 “Stop thinking about that!” I said, waving my finger at him. "I was worried I might have hurt Hoshimi!" I admitted.

"Not surprised getting skewered by a prong like that!  It must have been like having a cucumber shoved up her cunny, the poor dear!  Such a delicate thing too!"

"I have sent her some flowers!" I said, feeling even worse after his comment.

"Well that will go down well, although perhaps a hot water bottle might have been a better idea!"

"Oh dear!  I feel really guilty!" I said.  We sat in silence again drinking as much coffee as we could get down us.

“So, are you going to go?” said Britten, picking up some toast from the rack and spooning some marmalade onto it.

“Go where? To the Euston? I think I must!” I answered.

“No! Not there! To Hoxton’s birthday party?”

“Oh! That. Well. Probably not.” I said.

“I’m going to go! Definitely! Chance of physical relations with a woman I haven’t paid for, for once!” he said, spreading the marmalade and inadvertently dropping some on the tablecloth. “Bugger!”

“From the sounds of it, most of the women will have been paid for, if they come from the Babylon!”

“Yes but not all! That is the challenge! Can I persuade a woman, freely?” he said.

“Things not going too well with Virginia, then!”

“Ah! The Ice Queen!” he said. “I tried to put my arm around her last weekend and she told me to desist from touching her person.”

“Oh dear!”

“It is a shame because in most other ways she is delightful.  I fear I will be driven to a life of relying on...”

“Toffers!” I said.

“Ha! Not heard that term!”

“It means expensive ones, I gather,” I said.

 “Well they certainly are expensive, at the Society. Fortunately, Hoxton picked up the bill last night, although Hoshimi, you may be interested to know, was gratis. I’m intrigued by the prospect of the Turkish twins, although I gather they will be deuced expensive if you want them as a set,”

“I’m not surprised!” I said, wondering what that would be like. The waiter arrived with another silver pot of coffee.

“So, will you be going down to Hoxton’s or not?” persisted Britten. “I think you should come! I’d be less nervous than if I went on my own!”

“Well first thing this morning I would have said no. I was thinking about me Mammy telling me what a dreadful, sinful place London was and she is quite right! But now I am intrigued!”

 “You should stop using the term “me Mammy” in London. It makes you sound like a complete bog-trotter!” grinned Britten. I glared at him. “What will you tell Edith? If you attend Hoxton’s party.”

 “I have no idea.”

“Perhaps it would be good to give her a few days to work her feminine wiles on young Daisy!” he said. “By the way, when am I going to meet her?”

“I’m going to see them after breakfast! Although I need to go home to change, first. You have to go to work!” I smirked.We were not the only ones still in evening dress at breakfast, including one striking lady in pale green who had nodded at me conspiratorially as we entered the dining room.  She was, at least, on her own.

“I have just telephoned in sick. I told Crozier that I had a dreadful hangover as I had been out carousing with Lord Hoxton.  As Crozier was the chap who invited me to join the Society in the first place and he is a great friend of Hoxton's he said that was a perfectly acceptable reason! He then asked me if any expensive bints were involved and when I said yes, he told me to take two days off, as he has a another foreign trip coming up for me, anyway.”

 “Where to?”

“No idea. Malaya, I suppose. Anyway, now I can meet you and the ladies at the Euston Hotel!”

“Oh alright! You must be on your best behaviour, however. No, supposedly, humurous comments! I will meet you in the lobby at midday.”

“I will be like a choirboy!” he said. “Ah! Kidneys!” he exclaimed as the chafing dishes were presented to us.

“Well, this is a nice surprise, William!” said Edith, some two hours later, as we entered the suite at the Euston Hotel.  A proper desk had been installed, along with a rug, another chair and a green leather sofa. Daisy was sat at the desk with a pile of paperwork and a typewriter in front of her. She was wearing a plain blue skirt and a white blouse and looked very business-like.

“An utter pleasure for me, Mrs Challenor!” Britten replied. She smiled and kissed him on the lips, I was surprised to note. He looked equally surprised

“And may I introduce Miss Daisy Thompson, our new expedition clerk,” said Edith, indicating Daisy, who stood up from her desk and came over to greet us.

“Good morning, sir!” she said, politely.

 “Don’t call me sir, for heaven’s sake! I am William. William Britten. Some people call me Bill but I never speak to them again if they do!” She laughed and took his hand.

“Good old Bill is my very best friend!” I said.  She laughed again.

“In that case, William, you may give me a kiss!” she offered him her cheek and he darted in as quick as a kingfisher.

“So where have you been this morning, Mr Molloy?” asked Edith. “Given that it is,” she looked at the fob watch pinned to her pale cream blouse, “well, well. It is the afternoon!” It was just five past midday.  “I want the truth now!” she said waggling her finger at me.

“I confess we were out carousing with Lord Hoxton last night!” I said.

 “I see!  We will endeavour to speak quietly then!” she replied. Daisy giggled and sat back down at the desk.

 “As you can see all the paperwork has arrived from Booth Line in Liverpool. We need to itemise all the cargo for the ship's manifest and separate it into personal baggage that will be needed on the voyage and baggage that will remain in the hold. You need to be thinking about what personal items to take for your use on the voyage."

“Perhaps he could take me!” joked Daisy.“I would fit in a trunk quite easily!”

“I am sure that he would happily take you right now, given a chance, Daisy!” said Edith.

“Mrs C!  How naughty!” she replied but she gave me a little grin. I showed Britten the increasing piles of stores that were accumulating in the two rooms.

“And you have to carry all this lot or do you have dozens of native bearers?” he asked.

“Lord Hoxton says we should travel as lightly as possible but Professor Challenor keeps adding items!” I said.

“A theodolite and tripod arrived today!” called out Edith. “Good luck lugging that through the jungle!”

“Perhaps you should get everyone to strap on their share of the gear before you leave. Bet that gets them to rethink what they might need!” said Britten.  "Make them walk around Hyde Park a couple of times with it!"

“That is a very good idea!” I replied. “Surprisingly!”

“Bugger off!” he hissed under his breath.

“I heard that, Mr Britten!” called out Edith from the next room.

“Beg your pardon ma’am!” said Britten. “Chaps banter and what have you!” She came into the bedroom.

“I don’t care what you say in front of me, gentlemen, I get far worse at home from George.  But please watch yourselves in front of young Daisy. She is only nineteen and a well brought up young lady!”

“Sorry, Daisy!” called out Britten.

“Don’t worry, William,” she replied. “I have three older brothers in the services and they don’t bloody well moderate their language at all in front of me!”

“What a sound girl!” said Britten. “Nineteen, eh? Bang on!”

“You are a disgrace, Britten!” I said. There was a knock on the door. We walked into the main room but Daisy had already opened the door to a hotel bellboy who gave her an envelope.

“It is for you, Mr Molloy!” she said.

“Edmund, please!” I said, taking it from her and giving the bellboy a threepenny bit.

“It looks very posh!  It has a coat of arms on it!” said Daisy. I recognised Lord Hoxton’s family crest.

“Aren’t you going to open it?” asked Edith. I hesitated.

“Go on!” said Britten. “It could be that invitation!” Daisy went to the desk and returned with an ivory letter opener. I slit the cream envelope and there, inside, was a card. “It is an invitation to Lord Hoxton’s birthday party in Meon Bridge next weekend!” I said.

“Oh, I should go to that!  You sail on the Wednesday afterwards but I expect everything to have been readied by then!” said Edith. “Wait! There is a note still inside the envelope!” She whipped it from me before I could grab it. “Well, well, well!” she said as I tried to snatch it back from her.

 “What does it say?” asked Britten, although I wish he hadn’t.

“Dear Edmund, What an excellent time we had last night! As promised, here is your invitation to my birthday weekend. Do please invite your delightful lady friend and any other game young ladies of your acquaintance! R.S.V.P and what not. Yours H.” Edith looked at me with one eyebrow raised. Britten looked at Edith.

“I’m a game young lady!” piped up Daisy.

“Now, William, why don’t you go downstairs and buy Daisy a tea and arrange a table for four for luncheon. She has been working non-stop since eight this morning, unlike some others! I need to have a little chat with Edmund!” As they closed the door behind them I stood in front of Edith with a great sense of dread.

“Does Lord Hoxton know about our relationship?” she asked. “I know he suspects but have you confirmed it to him?”

“No. Yes. Well, he knew I have been seeing a married lady of course. I even showed him one of the drawings I had done of you, as I had my art folder on me when I saw him. It did not have your face on it!”

“I hope it was not the one where I am sticking my fundament out on the chair!” I could feel it coming over me again. My face burned.

“Edmund you’d make a bloody awful liar! You go as red as a beetroot. So, Lord Hoxton is now intimately aware of the appearance of my private parts.”

“He didn’t know it was you!”

“He seemed to be suggesting otherwise, the other night, at home!” she said.

“I tried to put him off the scent!” I said. “But he was most insistent and I had to confess.” She shook her head.

“The problem with situations like this is that they lead to rumours, unless they can be quashed immediately!” she said.

“Well, we should just stop seeing each other!” I said. “We should not, for example be alone together like this!”

“No. That will not do. Because I enjoy your ardent attention. Very much. You make me come and come. I  am sending Daisy on an errand this afternoon, for example, so you can have me on the sofa!”

“Oh!” was all I could manage.

 “Does William know?” I nodded. “Has he seen the pictures?” I nodded again. “Christ alive! None of my previous young men have revealed anything!”

“As far as you know!” I added,

“Indeed! Tell me about this birthday party!” she ordered.

“It is more a celebration for a certain type of gentleman. Very exclusive, I gather. Important people there. Lords, MPs and such! Cigars, drink...”

“Women? I assume, from the invitation?”

“The presence of women does seem a critical part of the celebrations. You know what Lord Hoxton is like!”

“Not as well as you, it seems!”

“It is rather riotous, I gather but because of the very senior nature of the guests, who are all well known to Hoxton and promise not to reveal what goes on, there has never been any scandal about it!” I said.

“I have never heard anything, I must say but then I don’t read The Courier!” She smiled and I relaxed.

“It is one of those hidden things in aristocratic society. Like the old Hellfire Club.”

“On that basis. I am minded to attend!” she said.

“You what?” I gasped.

“If the goings on are as secret as you maintain and the people as eminent, then no-one will notice Mrs George Challenor letting loose. Do you know, I already feel quite excited! I will smoke, drink and curse! Will there be dancing?”

“I have no idea! I don’t think that this is a good notion at all. I will turn down my invitation!” I already knew that nothing I said would dissuade Edith Challenor from doing exactly what she wanted.

“Best not to upset a man whose rifle might save you from a pouncing jaguar!” she said.  “What sort of women are invited? ‘Game ones’, I gather. I assume that means ladies, for want of a better word, who don’t mind hands straying under their skirts!”

“Not just hands!” I said.

“Really? Are we talking about an orgy, Edmund?”

“I gather that there is some nakedness. And the presence of professional ladies."  I winced.  "But also some very reputable women as well! Lady Caroline will be attending, for example”

“I wouldn’t call Lady Caroline reputable. Rather the opposite, in fact.  She was a music hall singer. A courtesan in Paris, to use a polite term. Married well. Fucked her much older husband to death, I have heard!  Ended up with all his money.  Spent much of it on horse racing.” She sat on the sofa, looking thoughtful.

“I hadn’t heard that!” I said. “Who told you that?”

“It is well known.  You were in Ireland. Away from civilisation. Caroline Robinson, the Romney Marsh Warbler. I went to see her once at the Empire, Leicester Square over twenty years ago.  She was strutting about on stage wearing her underthings and black stockings, pretending to iron her dress and singing a song about losing one’s drawers, if I recall correctly. She kept bending down to pick up clothes from a basket to pretend to iron them, wiggling her posterior at the audience to great cheers. I was only eighteen and I couldn’t understand why men were cheering her bottom!”

“She still has a fine posterior!” I said and grimaced.

"Of course!  You’ve seen her nearly naked!” said Edith.

“I’ve seen her entirely naked," I admitted.  "When Hoxton saw the picture of you he commissioned me to do some drawings of her as well!  I went over there after I had lunch with Edna Somersby.” I decided not to mention the daughters.

“Did you fuck her?” I had not seen Edith like this.  She looked fierce.

“No! Of course not! She is Hoxton’s! I just drew the pictures. Ten guineas a drawing!”

“I see. Ten guineas? Well you can bloody well buy me lunch then!” She stood up, her hands on her hips. “Look at me. Getting all jealous! I engaged you to be my intimate companion, a role you are fulfilling superbly. so it is not surprising other women are after you too! I suspect if you asked Daisy to lie on her back on the floor, pull her skirts up and open her legs she’d be all: ‘Of course Mr Molloy! Please do Mr Molloy! Should I suck your cock first, Mr Molloy?’”

“You can be very crude, Edith. I am sure she is a good girl!” I said.

“I am sure she is not. We have had a long discussion about your athletic figure this morning! She seems to have some experience as regards men’s anatomy and, indeed, intimate activity. She is not a shy virgin, despite her tender years. There was much speculation from her as to your musculature.”

“Oh!” I said. “Does she know that we are...?”

“No. Not yet!” She stepped forward and embraced me; stretching up to kiss me. She pulled away and stroked my groin. Just the contact of her cotton clad breasts against me had got me erect once more, or perhaps it was the thought of Daisy with her legs apart.

“You do respond so very quickly!” she said. “I think we have time for a quick one!” She started to unbutton my trousers and I removed my jacket. “No need for everything to come off. Just pull your trousers and drawers down to your knees and sit on the chair!” She indicated the chair behind the desk. I pulled it out and turned it ninety degrees to face her. Edith pulled up her skirts to reveal a pair of ornately decorated black stockings and her bare nether regions.  “I will straddle you!” she said approaching me and sitting on my lap. I could feel her hand take my manhood and place it at her hot entrance. She thrust her hips forward and I slid up inside her once more.  I placed my hands under her bunched skirts and onto her soft bottom. “You will remain immobile and I will ravish you!” she said, moving up and down slowly.

“Whatever you say, Mrs Challenor!” I said.  To be honest, despite the alacrity of my manhood I still felt rather out of sorts and would actually have preferred to just go down to lunch but Edith was a demanding woman

“You cheeky fellow!” she said, reaching between us and squeezing my ballocks gently. She gradually increased the speed of her movement and looked into my eyes all through the copulation, a faint smile on her lips. I was not feeling that wonderful, I must confess. A faint sickness in my stomach and the throbbing remnants of my headache, due to my overindulgence the night before, made me quite glad that Edith was doing all the work. She stopped moving and stood up.

"Why have you stopped?" I asked.  Despite my delicate state I was starting to enjoy it, after all.

"I am done!  Not every woman's orgasm has to accompanied by moaning gasping or screaming, you know!"  She kissed me, rather perfunctorarily, I felt. “You did not spend?” she asked, looking at the slick curve of my rigid manhood as she wiped between her legs with one of the tissues from the desk.

“Nothing to do with you, Edith. I was as entranced and excited as ever when I am with you. I just feel slightly delicate!” She laughed.

“I really did ravish you, didn't I?  Poor Edmund.  Now you know how it feels to be a woman.  Fucked and discarded! Well, you had better ensure you are at top performance level when we attend Lord Hoxton’s birthday or I will have to find an alternate! You should, perhaps, treat the time remaining as if you are due to play a big game of rugger!  Now stand up!  I need to wipe my emissions off the chair!  We can't have young Daisy ruining her skirt with my cunt juice now, can we?”

“Hello, you two! What have you been up to?” asked Daisy, brightly. We had eventually located Daisy and Britten, already sat at a table in the cavernous dining room.

“Fucking, Daisy,” said Edith sitting down.

“Oh!” said Daisy, looking shocked. “Really? Fu... Really? Oh!” Daisy looked at me and then Edith and a grin replaced her initial shocked expression. “Well. What fun! But aren’t you...?”

“Married? Yes, Daisy.  Happily married in every way except in the area of intimate relations. A part of married life my husband is not interested in and has no skill at whatsoever.  Mr Molloy, on the other hand, fucks like a God!  Well, perhaps not today.  He is somewhat off form!   Led astray by his friends, no doubt!”  She looked at William who winked at her.  She winked back.

“Oh!” said Daisy again, looking at me. “It seems my intended target is taken. I had not imagined... Well, with you. As you are...”

“Old enough to be his mother?” said Britten. I glared at him.

"Bloody cheek, William!" said Edith.  He grinned again. They were flirting, right in front of me.

“Married. I don’t think age matters really if the equipment is still working,” said Daisy “Although, I used to have to suck my great uncle Fred for ages before he was stiff enough to get it up me," she added, brightly. “He was sixty!”

“Daisy!” I said, shocked.

“Splendid!” said Britten.

“He was married too, of course,” said Daisy.“To my great aunt. Obviously. She never knew what I did and it made him happy. She was happy because he was happy. She always said she looked forward to my visits as Uncle Fred was so happy afterwards, for some reason. I was happy because it took ages for him to squirt and I usually came twice along the way!  Men who don’t do it regularly get awful grumpy, me mum used to say!”

“Women do too!” said Edith.

“Isn’t that the truth?” said Daisy. “I’m grumpy as hell at present! Dying for it!”

“Daisy!” I said again.  I looked around because although everyone was whispering Daisy’s voice was starting to get louder. “Shh!”

“Well I am!” she hissed. “Did you think I was a virgin? I lost my virginity when I was thirteen. I was lucky not to get pregnant as he came inside me, although I didn’t understand it all at that time. I just knew it made me feel all wet and gooey and sometimes I would explode with bliss. Ah! Lovely!”

“Daisy you are a very surprising girl!” said Britten, looking delighted and predatory at the same time.

“Of course it is all much more complex because Edmund will be travelling with my husband on this expedition. Something I had not intended” said Edith.

“I can see that that might create a difficult situation. You can rely on me not to say anything, Mrs C!” said Daisy,

 “Thank you Daisy!” said Edith.

“Do you know what you need, Mrs C?” said Daisy. breaking her roll open and brushing the resultant crumbs onto the floor. Edith noticed and frowned slightly.

“I thought she was already getting it!” observed Britten. He just couldn’t keep his mouth shut.

“What, Daisy?” asked Edith, smiling at Britten. He grinned back and looked at me triumphantly.

“A decoy!” said Daisy.

“A decoy?” said Edith.

“Yes, if I appear to be Edmund’s sweetheart, no-one would ever suspect you of having an illicit affair with him, now would they?”

“That’s a very good idea!” said Edith.

“And Edmund could write about her in his newspaper and then everyone would know!” said Britten. “Brilliant!”

“I could interview you, Daisy!” I said. “I have been doing pieces on the women left behind!”

“I know, Edmund. I have been cutting them out and pasting them in my scrapbook!” said Daisy.

“Of course!” I said. “What do we do?”

“Well...” She leant forward. “Beg your pardon, Mrs C!” she said and kissed me on the lips. She put her hand at the back of my neck and pulled me closer. I looked around and noticed several people looking at me and smiling. She pulled off and made a little ‘hmm’ noise.

“That was...” I began.

“Very nice!” she said. “You're a very good kisser!  Soft and tender.  Like me!"

"Daisy, how would you like to go to Lord Hoxton’s birthday party?” asked Edith.

“I’m game!” she said, laughing. Britten and Edith laughed too. I did not.