Home for Christmas: A cousin confesses

Elsie (for it was she) wriggled closer. I stayed facing the other way because I did not want to be tempted by carnal desire. But, as she pressed her warm naked body up against my flannelette pyjamas, I felt a stirring in my loins. I tried to ignore it and continued facing the wall.

'George,' she breathed heavily into my ear, 'I have a confession to make.' I did not turn round, even though I now had a wet ear but, speaking softly into the darkness, said,  'Elsie, do you really think you ought to be in my bed, in my house, with my mother just down the corridor?'

'Your mother is, at this moment, giving Borris some more English lessons. Although, I should tell you that Borris is not a Latvian immigrant but comes from Aberdeen, and is an investigative journalist in the employ of the Guardian newspaper.

Well, this time metaphors failed me! All I could think of to say was, 'But this just cannot be.'

'Oh but it is.' replied the strumpet in my bed. 'However, what your mother chooses to get up to in her own house is of no interest to me. Did you not hear what I said - I wish to make a confession.'

'Elsie,' I said, 'do you really think this is the time, or the place, for confessions?'

'Yes, I don't want to leave it a moment longer. It would not be fair.'

'For whom?' I asked, in my best sarcastic voice. 'People who say they want to make a confession usually want to load their guilt onto someone else.'
Elsie pushed even closer into my back, and wrapped an arm around my stomach. Had I not been wearing thick pyjamas I think I might have lost control.'George, I have been unfaithful to you'. Her words poured  a hot stream into my ear.
'What are you talking about?' I still did not turn around. 'With whom have you been unfaithfull to me?'
'The Mickle Trafford rugby team.'
'What!' I twisted round to face her. I think I must have twisted a bit too quickly because we bumped heads, and I knocked her glasses off. 'The whole fifteen of them?' I ejaculated.
'Off course not. What do you take me for? Some common tart? It was just the two wingers and the prop-forward. You and me were on a break at the time.' She added, hastily.

'What do you mean - on a break?'
'Well you had returnd to school at the end of the Easter hols.'
'But that doesn't constitute a break!' I was near to tears. 'I had to return to school. And remember how we kissed on the station platform and you swore your undying love?
'A woman has her needs, George.'
I grasped her shoulders.  'You harlot'  I shouted, shaking her roughly, 'I've a good mind to get my scout-belt and give you six of the best.'

'Oooh George,' she whispered. 'You can be so masterful when you are angry. 'I am a shameful woman, and deserve to be beaten.'
'And so you shall.' I leapt out of bed - then remembered I'd lent my scout-belt to Wiggins, when his trousers fell down on Sports Day. 'Damn!' I don't often swear, but could not help myself. The thought of punishing this wayward woman was beginning to appeal to me, in a strange way I did not understand.
'Here, use this.' Elsie was out of bed and had torn the length of heavy cord tassel from off the window drapes. Mother would be furiousl, I thought, but I would be shirking my duty if I did not discipline this girl; set her back on the path to righteousness.

So I did.

Later, as we lay together between the hot, damp sheets, a thought occurred to me. 'Hang on a tic,' I said, 'I might not be the father of this child you carry in your womb. It could be the prop-forward's. Or even one of the wingers.'

'Yes, George, and that is why I have telephoned the Jeremy Kyle show to seek a DNA test. A child has the right to know who its biological father is.' Elsie snuggled up to me. 'Oh, isn't it exciting, George?'

By the time I had thought of a suitable reply, Elsie was snoring peacefully.