'Actually, I think that old Tum-Tum has the right idea,' added Philip, rubbing his hands together. 'Now, I've booked a private room for myself upstairs tonight and you gentlemen are very welcome to join me. Antonio, I've also arranged for two chorus girls whom Andrew met yesterday to meet me there for a late-night supper and it'll be no problem finding a third girl to join the party.'
Antonio looked at me questioningly but I shook my head and said: 'That's very kind of you, Philip, but I must have an early night.' Then I turned to Antonio and said: 'However, don't let me stop you, mi amigo. Becky and Claire are two very jolly girls and you'll have a fine time. Thank you again for a lovely dinner and don't forget to contact me when you next come to London.'
On that note I parted from my friends and took a taxi back home to Kendal Street. To my surprise Teddy Carmichael had not yet gone to bed but was sitting in the lounge in his dressing gown and pyjamas, leafing through the pages of a magazine.
'Are you all right, Teddy? I thought you would be fast asleep by now after such an exhausting day,' I remarked. He looked up and answered: 'Yes, so did I. Truth to tell, Andrew, I'm feeling rather wretched but I simply can't get to sleep.'
'Oh dear, I hope you're not coming down with a chill,' I said whilst I unravelled my bow tie. 'Go to bed, old boy, perhaps you'll be able to doze off now. It's a shame we can't telephone Mrs. Dashwood to visit you because half an hour with her would put you in the Land of Nod!'
He gave a wan smile and wished me good night as I walked through to my bedroom. I finished undressing and, after washing my hands and face, I slumped into bed and fell fast asleep.
Sally woke me up as usual the next day. But instead of diving under the cover for a quick fuck, she stood at the side of the bed with a worried expression on her face and informed me that Teddy had looked very poorly when she brought him in his early morning cup of tea.
I pulled back the eiderdown and swung myself our of bed as I sighed: 'Oh dear, he wasn't feeling too well last night. I'll go and see if there's anything I can do for him.'
Well, one look at his flushed face was enough to see that he was feverish. I said: 'Right, you stay there and try to rest. After I've dressed myself, I'll telephone Jonathan Elstree and ask him if he will come round and see you.'
'Thanks, Andrew, I'm so sorry to be such a nuisance,' he wheezed whilst I drew his curtains and said heartily: 'Don't be silly, old boy, it's no trouble. Anyhow, it's in my interest to have you fighting fit for the weekend with Katie Judson and her pals.'
Luckily, Doctor Elstree lived less than a mile away in Gloucester Place and agreed to see Teddy before his first appointment in Harley Street. As I expected, after examining him, the good doctor announced that Teddy was running a temperature of just over 100 degrees. He went on: 'I don't think he's contracted influenza but he still has a nasty summer chill. But if he stays in bed, has plenty of hot drinks and doses himself up with these new aspirin tablets, he should be able to shake it off pretty quickly.'
I looked in the bathroom medicine chest and found it to be empty. Doctor Elstree said: 'Ah, that's a pity, because this sort of fever should be treated as quickly as possible. Unfortunately, I don't have any aspirin in my bag.'
'Blast! None of the pharmacies around here open till ten o'clock,' I muttered but he said: 'No, Andrew, haven't you noticed that Nugent's have opened up a branch round the comer in Edgeware Road? Their shops open at eight-thirty so you can go there now and buy the aspirin for Teddy.
'And while you're there you should also purchase half a dozen tubes of Vaseline,' he added with a low chuckle.
'Why should we do that?' I enquired. He promptly replied: 'Because it's a product which you and Teddy always need to keep in stock if I'm any judge of character. Come on, Andrew, put on your jacket and I'll show you where this new pharmacy has opened up.'
'Thank you very much, doctor,' I said gratefully. But when I arrived at the shop I found a Closed sign on the door although the lights had been switched on and when I peered through the window I could see a pair of long silk-stockinged legs and a shapely bottom sticking out from underneath one of the cabinets.
I knocked on the door and a buxom lady in her mid-thirties scrambled up from the floor. She walked up to the door which she opened, saying apologetically: 'I'm so sorry, sir, but I'm afraid we're shut. For some reason, our chemist hasn't arrived yet. I'm only an assistant and not allowed to sell medicines so I've closed up to do some stocktaking until Mr. Home arrives.'
Then she looked at me closely and said: 'Excuse me, sir, aren't you Mr. Scott from over the road in Kendal Street?'
'Yes, I am,' I said and she gave me a charming smile. 'You don't recognize me, do you? Well, we only met once, about three months ago in the queue outside the Palace Theatre. My name is Edwina Robertson and I was with my best friend, your housekeeper, Mrs. Pelgram.'
Now at first I thought it impossible at such an early hour of the day, but I could have sworn I detected the smell of gin on her breath and when Mrs. Robertson went on: 'Beth Macdougall was top of the bill that week and when you told us that the bearded young gentleman standing beside you-a Mr. Hammond, if my memory serves me right-was her press agent I asked if he could get her autograph for us. Do thank Mr. Hammond when you next see him, sir, because, as he promised, signed photos of Miss Macdougall were waiting for us at the stage door after the performance.'
'Your memory does indeed serve you well,' I replied. I was now somewhat concerned because for no real reason my cock began to thicken and push itself out into a tenting bulge in the front of my trousers even though little more than performing my errand of mercy for Teddy was on my mind. Yet again, I failed to understand why my love truncheon was behaving as if it were an autonomous entity with a will of its own. Mrs. Robertson told me to come inside if there was anything I needed, saying that so long as I did not need to have a prescription made up, there was really no reason why she could not serve me.
So I entered the shop and she locked the door behind us as I mumbled that all I required was a bottle of aspirin tablets for my friend who was feeling unwell. Mrs. Roberston said: 'Ah! We've just taken delivery of a box of Professor Anthony Mulliken's Aspirins. These are a little more expensive, but they're supposed to be the best in the trade. Just a moment and I'll see if I can find them.'
She knelt down and searched through some half-opened boxes. When she triumphantly brought out the bottle she had been looking for, her face was level with the bulge in my crotch. I noticed her eyes widen and felt my cheeks begin to bum as I blushed with embarrassment. I cleared my throat and thanked her as Mrs. Robertson rose and pressed the bottle into my hand.
'It's very thoughtful of you to take such trouble for a friend,' she said. Now I was certain that I could smell alcohol when she breathed deeply and added: 'I wish there was somebody who cared enough about me to go out on my behalf if I fell ill. But my sister has moved down to Maidstone and Mr. Robertson has been away since April- he won't be back till next February at the earliest'
I wondered what circumstances had forced her husband to leave the matrimonial home for such a length of time. But I thought it impolite to ask, so I simply nodded my head sympathetically and enquired whether I might also purchase half a dozen fourpenny tubes of Vaseline.
'Yes, of course you can,' replied the buxom lady, giving me a grandstand view of the swell of her ample breasts as she bent down again to open another box. 'Six tubes, did you say? Who's the lucky girl, then?'
And then before I could make any rejoinder to this impertinent question, Mrs. Robertson's face crumpled up and her eyes filled with tears as she sobbed: 'Oh, Mr. Scott, I'm so sorry, please forgive me, that was the gin speaking. Please don't report me to Mr. Home or I'll get the sack. The fact is that since Herbert, my husband, has been away I've been so lonely and I won't deny that this isn't the first time I've popped a pocket flask into my handbag before leaving the house.'
So she had been drinking, after all! I felt I had to speak out and I said: 'Mrs. Robertson, forgive me saying so but in a responsible job like yours, that's really most unwise. Suppose you made a mistake and gave a customer the wrong medicine whilst you were under the influence of alcohol? The consequences could be tragic'
To my discomfiture, she continued crying so bitterly that I moved round behind the counter and put my arms around her shoulders to comfort her, saying: 'There, there, Mrs. Robertson, I didn't mean to upset you, though I hope you will consider what I said. But what is troubling you so much? Would you like to tell me why you need to
