Rosie Dixon's Complete Confessions. Rosie Dixon
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be necessary,” I say hurriedly. I take off for the door and there is Mrs W. bristling like an electric hedgehog. “You’ve got to do something about the noise,” she shouts. “I don’t know what you’re doing in there.” She peers past me into the interior and I see Ted and Natalie scampering up the stairs. The studs on Ted’s back spell “Ted” and a V sign.
“I’m terribly sorry,” I say. “I’ll try and get them to quieten down a bit. It’s somebody’s birthday, you see.”
“I can’t see what that has to do with it. Some of us have to work in the morning, you know.”
“Of course.” I try and close the door. I don’t want to leave Ted and Natalie alone upstairs for a second longer than I have to. As I glance over my shoulder I see Flash and Nutter leaving a film of grease on the bannisters.
“Don’t try and slam the door in my face, miss! The noise isn’t the main reason why I came. Have you seen my front lawn?” I glance over the hedge and my heart sinks. The glistening handlebars of the bikes remind me of a reindeer round-up. There must be stands at Earls Court that have fewer bikes on them.
“I’m terribly sorry. I’ll get them off at once.”
“If you don’t, I’m going to ring the police. The whole thing is quite disgraceful. Your parents aren’t here, are they?”
“They’ll be back tomorrow,” I simper.
“Humpf!” Mrs Wilson takes another look past me just as one of Geoffrey’s friends pushes out of the front door and is sick all over Mum’s petunias. Oh dear. How very unfortunate. Mrs Wilson stalks down the garden path still muttering and I shoot back into the house. The first thing I see is Geoffrey holding his dripping nose over the rubber plant in the hall. He can be very thoughtful sometimes.
“Did one of them hit you?” I say. “Oh dear, I am sorry. Can you try and get everyone to make less noise? The woman next door is threatening to call the police.”
Geoffrey says something to the effect that she can’t call the police soon enough as far as he is concerned but I laugh it off and make a run for the stairs. I have a vision of Ted trying to tug Natalie’s trousers off while Flash and Nutter wander around helping themselves to the flying ducks.
I dash into Natalie’s room and find to my relief that it is empty. Perhaps she is in the toilet. Somebody must be because there are half a dozen people waiting outside.
“I think Jim’s passed out,” says one of them. He puts his eye to the keyhole.
“Can you see him?”
“No. His head’s in the way. HEY JIM!!”
“Don’t shout like that!” I yell. “One of the neighbours has threatened to call the police.”
“She should call the fire brigade,” says one of the onlookers.
“Get him out but don’t make a noise.” I am beginning to feel that things are getting on top of me. Where are Natalie and those terrible greasers? Surely they couldn’t be in—? No. It is too horrible to think about. I throw open the door of Mum and Dad’s bedroom and—
“Hello, darling. What took you so long?”
At first I think it is just Ted and Flash on the bed and then I see Natalie lying between them—naked!! Nutter is hopping round the room trying to take off a boot.
“Get off that bed,” I shout before remembering to lower my voice. “This is my mother’s bedroom.”
“That’s why we’re playing mummies and daddies,” says Ted.
“Nineteen seventies style,” says Nutter.
“Yeah,” says Flash.
“Don’t be a spoilsport,” says Natalie. “Don’t take any notice of her. She’s jealous because she hasn’t got anyone.”
“Get off that bed,” I hiss. “You’re drunk and you’ve no idea what you’re doing.” I grab her by the arm and haul her to her feet. “Get out. I’ll handle this.”
“You can handle this and all,’ says Nutter who has now got his boot off. I tear my eyes away from the enormous love truncheon rearing up like a fascist salute and bundle Natalie towards the door. She loses no time bursting into tears. “You hate me, don’t you?” she sobs. “You never want me to have any fun.”
I grab Mum’s dressing gown from the hook on the door and shove it into her arms as I push her out into the corridor. I should be getting some kind of medal for the efforts I am making.
“And now you three can get your clothes on, get downstairs, and get your bikes off Mrs Wilson’s lawn.”
“Who’s she?”
“Must be the old tart next door,” says Ted. “She looking for trouble, is she?”
“I’m looking for trouble,” I say. “If you don’t get out of here immediately, I’m going to ring for the police.”
If I had expected my audience to bash their heads together in a mad rush for the door I would be disappointed.
“You know what your trouble is, darling?” says Ted. “You’re too tense.”
“Up tight is what he means,” says Nutter, folding his arms round me. “You want to relax more.”
“Let me go!” I say. It is awful because I can feel his thing pressing against my tummy. I try to struggle but he is terribly strong. Hairy, too.
“She needs a little relieving massage,” says Ted. “Bring her over here.” He stretches out an arm and pulls me down onto the bed.
“You touch me and I’ll scream,” I warn him.
“And disturb all the neighbours? You don’t want to do that.”
He runs his hand over my stomach and I notice that he has incredibly hairy wrists. On some men I find that quite sexy.
“You wouldn’t dare,” I say.
“Massage,” says Ted.
“Yeah,” says Flash. Of the three I like him the least. Not, of course, that I would pay for any of the others to go to charm school.
“You’re getting the counterpane filthy,” I say.
“For you, Princess, I’ll take it off. Now. Why don’t you do something like that?” Before I can say anything he has put his hand up my skirt and is pulling at my tights and panties. “I like these long skirts, don’t you, Nutter?”
“Yeh, they keep your neck warm.”
I am in big trouble. If I start screaming, all the neighbours will hear and Mrs Wilson will call the police. There is also Natalie to consider. By lying here and letting them do these awful things to me I am protecting her. It is terrible but—
“Help me peel her,” says Ted.
“Yeah,” says Flash.
Their crude hands force down my skirt while by word and gesture I try to convey my revulsion.
“Bet you’re feeling better already,” says Nutter as he kneels across me and starts popping open the buttons of my silk blouse. They are covered in fabric and I can just see the problems I am going to have getting the grease stains out. Nutter is half naked and in a matter of minutes the person wearing most on the bed is Flash. He has on a grey string vest which might one day have been white. Clothes are littered all over the room and I can see my lovely plaid skirt lying in a crumbled heap on the floor. I am so distressed that I can hardly find the strength to push Ted away. His disgustingly lithe, muscle-packed body looms over mine and he begins to gnaw one of my nipples as if it is a wad of chewing tobacco. On all sides, pussy-pummellers menace me like loaded weapons.
“Right, darling,” says Ted. “Cop this.”