THE ASTROMATES... Chapter 5...Part 3.

A continuation of my book.

I was her child now, her baby orphan, to be cherished with love and T.L.C. Was I winning? I couldn’t wait to be breast-fed! I pulled away, not wanting her to feel what was up down below. The twitching curtain urged me to leave. Mummy was watching and Daddy had come to the front door, coughing loudly and beginning to undress.
"Goodnight, my little Moon-Maiden." I whispered seductively in her ear.
"Will you come to see me this week-end, Richard?"
How could I refuse the appeal in her eyes, the feeling as she touched my cheek, like the mother who leaves her child at the nursery for the first time.
"I’ll come on Saturday, if that’s okay. Perhaps you’ll let me take you out in the evening."
"Oh, please do, Richard. We’ll have a lovely day here, then we’ll spend the evening together."
Oh, stop it my foolish heart! I hummed the tune ‘Let’s spend the night together’ all the way home.

Saturday morning came in a promise of sunshine. As I drew the curtains back, the light of day begged me to throw open the windows and help myself to huge breaths of fresh air. I left the window open, the room had not seen fresh air since I had moved into the flat. I needed to know my Mandy would soon be adding more fresh smells once the evening had arrived. With clean sheets and the new duvet cover, which had been hidden in a corner cupboard, it gave the room a smart new look. I filled a coffee cup and prepared myself for the days outing. I just knew this time both luck and Mandy were on my side, I just couldn’t lose!
Mandy had been waiting. I saw the net curtain move as I approached the gate and then she was there, opening the door, leading me by the hand into the house. It was obvious she had told Mummy about my unfortunate childhood. Mummy’s’ eyes were full of compassion as she bade me sit while she and Mandy rushed from kitchen and back with endless supplies of fresh food. I was of the opinion I could survive on the grub alone, even if I didn’t get near ‘The Man In The Boat’!
I was surprised to note there was no sign of Daddy, although there were sounds coming from the back garden. Refusing an offer of even more toasted sandwiches, then having to look through the dreaded photo album which Mummy had produced, I began to plan a way of escaping from this neat little semi, with Mandy in tow.
"Where’s Daddy?" I enquired, when Mummy had gone into the kitchen to start the washing-up.
"He’s out in the garden." said Mandy, pulling me up from the chair, saying… "I do hope you and Daddy will get along, he’s such a dear really. Why don’t you go out and have a chat with him?"
Now, I know, as does any man who’s after shagging another mans’ daughter, getting comfy with Daddy is not a wise thing to do. I mean, there’s something dirty about it, isn’t there? He knows what you’re after and you know he knows. Now tell me, how can you both smile and chat while knowing what you both know?However, because I’m an idiot and into the world of politeness, plus trying to impress Mandy, I agreed with all the enthusiasm in the world.

"Cooee! Look who’s here, Daddy… It’s Richard!" cried Mandy gaily as she propelled me out through the back door into the garden.
Daddy mumbled something (I can guess what!) as he turned to face me. He wore a flat cap, patchwork jacket and old grey flannels which fitted into green wellie-boots. Could one imagine greasy hair, slicked over to one side, a small moustache under the nose, jackboots and swastika. I could see him in charge of Stormtroopers!
"Like gardening, Richard?" he queried, leaning on his fork.
"I like to dig as good as the next man." I replied airily, gazing round at the flower-beds.
Daddy nodded approbation before vanishing into the garden shed.
"Richard!"
There came an ordered shout from within the shed and I made my way across, peering into the interior.
"Here, lad. Try these on for size."
This order was accompanied with a large pair of wellie-boots which he held out. Gingerly, I removed my shoes and enclosed feet and the best part of my trousers in rubber.
"How’s that feel? Good, eh? Here you are, hang your jacket up on that hook and you can use this fork while I do some weeding."
I really began to hate the old git! Hating myself for allowing Daddy to order me about.

"Oh, look, Mummy. Richard is helping Daddy in the garden. Isn’t that sweet?"
Mother and daughter stood side by side, smiles of pure bliss as they heard the old git order me to start turning the earth over. Satisfied that Daddy and I had reached a working father-son relationship, Mandy and Mummy returned to the kitchen, ready to start preparing the midday meal.
"Do between the flower-beds and then work your way around." ordered Daddy from his kneeling position.
I glared at his back before spiking the ground with the fork. Like any decent man, I was never afraid of hard work. Hard work was second nature to me, after sex. The fact I was never able to acquaint myself to either in any great amount was neither here nor there. It was the dirt and calluses I couldn’t stand. Nor could I stand the thought of hard horny hands of the labourer, the grime of poverty. Such were the thoughts which passed through my mind as I prodded willy-nilly among the flower-beds, lifting up clods of earth and letting them fall back.
Clink! Clunk! My fork had seemed to hit solid rock, which put a stop to my musings. With determination, I dug deep and wrenched at the offending rocks, lifting the fork with satisfaction. Earth showered downwards, to reveal the jagged ends of white rock, which began to look suspiciously like bones. I sifted the stick-like objects, peering closer as I knelt.
"You’ve dug up Jerry!"
Daddy’s’ cries of anguish startled me upright and I turned to watch him as he rushed into the house, screaming… "He’s dug up Jerry! He’s dug Jerry up!"
From the house rushed Mummy and Mandy, with Daddy bringing up the rear. The grief was plain to see as wails of tears and accusations were hurled at me, as if I had desecrated the tomb of a beloved forefather.
"It was only a dog." I said. "We can rebury the thing… Say a few prayers… Light a candle… " I finished lamely as I began to edge backwards, away from the scene of the crime.

I had taken off the cumbersome wellies and reclaimed my shoes. With jacket hung over my arm, I left the house with heavy heart. It does not do a man good to hear himself described as heartless, a grave-disturber and useless clot! There was no-one to see me off, the door being slammed in my face. To top it all, as I went to don my jacket, the packets of ‘Jollybags’ fell out of my pocket and littered the pavement. The fact I was in a bus-queue at the time did little to cheer me up!

Having apprised Alexo of the days’ miserable failure, he looked at me with jaundiced eye before declaring…
"You see, old boy, what you get for digging up the past!"