Timothy Lea - Confessions of a Milkman

Finding Miss Tromble’s room is a cinch because I follow her when she leaves the lecture room and goes up the staircase with ‘Staff Only’ written at the bottom of it. I give her a couple of seconds to go round the bend – you know what I mean – take a crafty shufti round the entrance hall and scamper up the stairs just in time to see her steering her mighty Manchesters through the second door along the oak-panelled corridor. So, that is where she snuggles down beside them for the night. Just across the way from the milking sheds. Very handy when I come to think of it. There is certain to be a loft above the prize Friesians and I should be able to cop an uninterrupted view of the plus feature if I can find a handy window. I check out the joint during my dinner hour and it could not be better. I can practically see my mug in the mirror on her dressing table. It all depends how tightly she draws her curtains.

I can hardly concentrate on Simple Accounting Procedures and Know Your Way Round Your Float, which takes up most of the afternoon. Gunther, Hollis and Keen are such earnest, dedicated buggers. It makes my heart bleed to see them scribbling away in their little books and smiling up at Miss Tromble like she invented Christmas. They would not know what to do with her knockers if they were lowered on to them face downwards from a crane. Gunter especially. What a prick. The old school tie with egg all over it. And the way they all team up together. You would think they had never been away from home before. They really put the mockers on me. I would not be surprised if there was something a bit unhealthy about their relationship. Latent, of course. They would not have the guts to flash their old men in earnest – or perhaps I should say Ernest, ha! ha! – oh well, please yourselves.

Come the evening I bolt down my bangers and mash and settle down with an old Woman where I can keep an eye on Miss Tromble who is eating daintily on the staff table. We eat in a blooming great room called the refectory which has a few easy chairs and old magazines in one corner of it. Also a ping pong table.

The object of my desires is wearing a kind of lace blouse and I can see the outline of her white bra beneath. I have to confess that she is on the plump side but with a pair of knockers like that everything else would have to be in proportion. If it wasn’t she would topple forward every time she stood up.

‘Feel like making up a four?’ Twit Gunter is standing in front of me with a couple of table tennis bats in his mit. ‘Equipment’s a bit ropy, I’m afraid, but you can have the bat with the rubber on it.’

‘Thanks a zillion,’ I say, trying not to sound too sarky. ‘It’s not my game.’

‘We thought we might slip out for a swift half later,’ continues Terrible Ted lowering his voice. ‘Norman has got a wheeze.’

‘You won’t find a chemist open at this time of night,’ I say wittily. ‘No thanks, I think I’ll get an early night.’

Miss Tromble has just started the laborious task of brushing the crumbs off her knockers and I know that she will soon rise – like something else not a million miles from the back of my fly. Honestly, Percy has fallen very deeply in love with Miss Tromble and is now trying to show his feelings in a brave attempt at a Hitler salute. I lower the feature on Princess Margaret – ‘The little girl who grew up’ – on to my lap – hoping that no harm will come to Her Royal Highness by my so doing – and stand up, pressing Percy back against my tum.

‘Sure you won’t change your mind? You could be in for a spot of fun.’ Another thing I can’t stand about Gunter is that he is very slow to take a hint.

‘No, thanks,’ I say. ‘I’m going to brush up on my milk grades. Good night.’

I nod to the others and stroll out into the hall. There is a notice board there and I pretend to look at a poster about the local hunter trials whilst I wait for Miss Tromble to emerge. I had always thought that peeping Toms were dirty old men in plastic raincoats, not clean-limbed lads like myself. It just shows you that life is full of surprises, doesn’t it?

Текст предоставлен ООО «ЛитРес».

Прочитайте эту книгу целиком, купив полную легальную версию на ЛитРес.

Безопасно оплатить книгу можно банковской картой Visa, MasterCard, Maestro, со счета мобильного телефона, с платежного терминала, в салоне МТС или Связной, через PayPal, WebMoney, Яндекс.Деньги, QIWI Кошелек, бонусными картами или другим удобным Вам способом.