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An Island of Our Own

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“What are you reading Russ,” Kath asked as she plonked herself down on the divan beside him.

“Mmm…what?”

“I asked you what you’re reading.”

“Oh…er…some stupid story.”

“It may be stupid but you certainly seemed to be engrossed in it.”

“Was I…oh not really; I don’t think I’ll read any more of it.”

He laid the book on the coffee table and Kath quickly picked it up.

“Mmm, ‘The Lost Star’. What’s it about?”

“A film star who goes out sailing with her son; there’s a storm and they get washed up on an island.”

He stopped speaking and Kath said impatiently, “Well go on.”

“Of course she’s a great beauty and he’s a real hunk. When its realised they’re missing there’s a big hunt for them, but they’re not found, so it’s assumed they drowned. There’s weeping and wailing in the media and everybody says what a wonderful person she was, always concerned for the underdog, would do anything for anybody; all that sort of crap.”

“Yes, the best way to instant sainthood is to die; people suddenly discover all your virtues, even if you didn’t have any. It gives people an excuse for crying.”

“Yes; so these two are marooned…”

“Mrs. Crusoe and son.”

“Mmm, but her name in the story, would you believe, is Gloria Swanneck.”

“What’s the son’s name, Billy Ducklegs?”

Russ laughed, “No, he’s called Garth Hammer. He’s her son by her first marriage to some guy who was heir to the Hammer millions.”

“I wonder how much she soaked him for when they got divorced?”

“It doesn’t say, but she’s supposed to have been married four times since then.”

“Made a second profession of it alongside being a film star did she?”

“Yes, like a lot of people these days.”

“Well what happened to them?” “I don’t know I haven’t finished the story. I’m just at the part where they’re building a shelter and fishing and eating wild berries.”

“Wild berries? Do they know about things like that? I mean, they could get poisoned.”

Well that’s one of the stupid things about the story; these two have spent most of their lives being waited on and grovelled to by servants and the like, and then they suddenly know how to build things and about the berries and so on. And another thing, the story keeps on about how her beauty is enhanced by their life on the island. I reckon she’d turn into an old hay bag trying to stay alive like that.”

“It is only a story.”

“Yes, and I’ve had enough of it.”

“Where did you get it…oh, I see it’s from the library.”

“I prefer something that’s real…you know, that you can believe in. I got another book out; I’ll try reading that instead.”

“What’s it called?”

“The Bloodstone of Ravensbrook Castle.”

“Sounds very believable, darling,” Kath said dubiously.

“Yes, I think I’ll go to bed and start reading it there. Goodnight mum.”

“Give your mother a kiss then.”

Russ gave her smacking kiss on the lips and departed for bed.

Kath picked up the discarded novel and started to idly glance over the first page. Having glanced she then started to read with increasing interest.

Around one thirty in the morning she surfaced. She sighed, it was pity to stop at the bit where Garth was in the process of rescuing Gloria from a giant crocodile, but she had to go to work in the morning.

She glanced at her watch and muttered, “My God, it is morning,” and hurried off to bed taking the book with her.

When she woke in the morning the book was laying beside her pillow and the bed light still on. She’d continued reading in bed but had finally dropped off to sleep despite her attempts to carry on reading.

She didn’t feel in the least like going to work but since there had been no equivalent of an heir to the Hammer to millions in her life, work it had to be.

“Why couldn’t I be like Gloria,” she asked herself. Then remembering the nights on the backseat of a car, muttered, “The bastard disappeared as soon as I got pregnant.”

She got off the bed and headed for the shower. When she’d got her nightdress off she surveyed herself in the mirror.

“Definitely no Gloria,” she sighed. Taking another look at herself she modified her opinion.

“Not so bad really though”

There had been a number of guys who had taken an interest in her since Russ’ birth but she’d kept the relationships low key, being too wary to get entangled. For much of her sexual gratification she relied on her dildo and vibrator.

“At least they have to remain faithful,” she told herself, “even if I don’t.” When she was using the dildo she felt she was being unfaithful to the vibrator, and visa versa.

She finished showering and naked fled back to her bedroom hoping Russ would not see her. She dressed for the office, and then placing an old checkout slip between the pages of the book took it with her to the kitchen were Russ was just finishing breakfast.

“You reading that?” he asked as he rinsed some plates.

“Yes, I like it.”

“A lot of romantic rubbish, have you got to the bit Casibom where they…”

“Don’t you dare Russ Collins; you’ll spoil the story for me. Have you left me any bread?”

“Yes, I got a new loaf out of the freezer, shall I make you some toast?”

“Yes please darling, I’m running a bit late this morning. What time are you off?”

“First lecture’s not until eleven so I’ll clear up in here if you like.”

“Would you have time to vacuum the lounge as well?”

“Sure.”

“You are a good boy.”

“I’m not a boy and I do have to look after my hard working mum.”

“You’re a good man then. If you’re looking after me would you rescue me from a giant crocodile like Garth did for his mother?”

“No, I don’t think so. I might manage a stumpy tailed lizard, but nothing bigger.”

“But they’re only about thirty centimetres long!”

“That long? I’ll have to think of something smaller.”

“Beast; I take back what I said about you being good.”

“Seriously mum, I don’t think I’ve ever thanked you properly for all you’ve done for me.”

“Yes, you have, lots of times, and don’t say anymore or you’ll make me cry.”

“Here’s your toast mum, would you like some coffee?”

“Yes please.”

“You know mum, I often think that when I finish university and get a job it’ll be my turn to really do the looking after. You wouldn’t have go out to…”

“I said don’t say anymore…look you’ve got me all tearful and it’ll make my eye makeup run…oh God I’ve forgotten to do my eyes.”

“You don’t need to make them up mum, you’ve got lovely eyes.”

“Have I? Oh stop it. Is the coffee ready?”

“Here you are.”

“Thanks.”

Kath gulped a mouthful of coffee.

“Oh my God that’s hot.”

“It’s supposed to be hot.”

“Yes but…I’ve got to get a move on or I’ll be late.”

Kath managed to sip her way through the coffee and finding she’d forgotten her bag rushed to the bedroom, grabbed it, and hurtling back to the kitchen put the novel in the bag and headed for the door.

She stopped, “Oh, and would you look in the post box before you leave to see if we’ve got any letters. There might be one be with a big cheque in it.”

“Big cheque; what for…who from…?”

“I don’t know, I didn’t say there would be, only there might be. We can always hope can’t we?”

She disappeared through the door as Russ called after her, “Hope springs eternal.”

During her lunch break Kath read more of the novel and if one of the other women hadn’t tapped her on the shoulder and said, “Time to get back Kath,” she might have read on for the rest of the afternoon.

Arriving home around five forty she found Russ up to his elbows in cooking.

“Only vegetables and chops,” he announced, “I’m not much good with the haute cuisine.”

“Still looking after me?”

“Why not; mother’s like you are hard to come by so I don’t want to lose you.”

“That’s what Garth says in the book, or something like that.”

“Still reading it are you. I don’t know why he’d say that, I’ll bet she was a lousy mother.”

“Well in the book their relationship is really touching.”

“Yes, but in real life…”

“Like that Bloodstone thing you’re reading?”

“In real life I’ll bet it isn’t like that. I mean four stepfathers? Five including his real father; I don’t think I’d have liked even one stepfather.”

“No, that’s what I thought,” Kath said dryly.

Russ looked at her searchingly for a moment.

“I’ve often wondered why you’ve never….”

“If you’re going to say what I think you’re going to say, then don’t….and look out, the vegetables are boiling over.”

“Oh bugger,” Russ cursed as he made a grab for the saucepan; “Bloody hell that’s hot.”

“Yes, like the coffee this morning it’s supposed to be hot; use a cloth.”

“Do you think they’ll be overcooked?”

“What are they?”

“Potatoes and parsnip…oh bloody hell the Brussel sprouts are boiling over now.”

“How are the chops coming along?”

“I don’t know they’re under the griller.”

“Well take a look…oh never mind I’ll do it.”

Somehow between them they managed to get food on plates. As it turned out the vegetables were fine, but the chops bore a distinct resemblance to charcoal.

Kath made no comment, but Russ muttered as if to justify his cooking, “I’m good at fish and chips.”

“Then lets have that tomorrow; there’s fish in the refrigerator but don’t try making the salad, I’ll do that.”

“Okay,” Russ replied, as he tried to cut one of the chops. Finally he had to resort to breaking pieces off with his teeth.

When they had cleared up Kath grabbed the novel and made a dash for the divan before Russ could stretch out on it. She settled down to reading, and Russ, seeing he had been forestalled, said he would go to his room to study. Kath suspected he would read his Bloodstone novel, but she said nothing because she was already absorbed in the story.

Soon Kath was completely immersed in the island adventures of Gloria Casibom Giriş and Garth. The fact that this beauteous couple would hardly remain in the pristine state they were in when they set out sailing did not seem to matter, although Kath did wonder how, since they had been washed ashore, Gloria managed to keep her long blonde hair gleaming and untangled.

Kath had reached the point in the story where the castaways’ clothing was disintegrating. They thought of animal skins, but the only suitable creature they could discover on the island was a small mouse-like animal that proved elusive, and in any case they would have needed hundreds of the little creatures to give them even minimal coverage.

Then they discovered some bushes with long wide fibrous leaves, and these they sewed together and thus maintained a modicum of modesty. The writer failed to mention what they used for thread and needles.

Gloria was presented in many poses throughout the book; standing on a low cliff in profile to Garth who was down on the beach, Gloria’s beautiful, large swelling breasts were seen to great advantage; naked on the beach together they ran into the surf, “Her long sender legs carrying her like a bird over the sand;” one dark and stormy night Gloria was frightened by the thunder and lightening, and Garth “held her lovely body protectively to him all night.”

The best bit was the crocodile rescue; Kath read that several times. The monster’s jaws were about to sink into Gloria’s rump, Garth pulled her to safety and thrust a stake sharpened at both ends into the creature’s mouth, much to its discomfort. It was marvellous the speed with which this young man could operate, and how he could conjure a sharpened stake out of nowhere.

As the book drew to a close mother and son decided they did not want to be rescued. They had found a new Garden of Eden, far away from the stress and strain of “that other world.”

In this respect the story ended badly because the military decided to hold field exercises. This included the bombing of the island by the air force and shelling by the navy to be followed with a landing by the army.

The castaways were found dead in each other’s arms. No disfiguring injuries were mention which is surprising since the island vegetation had been all but obliterated by the bombardment.

The bodies were discovered by a young officer of poetic bent who, recognising Gloria cried, “Why, it is Gloria Swanneck, she is beauteous even in death.”

Kath was glad it had been an officer who found the couple, for had it been a private he would in all probability have exclaimed, “‘Ere, it’s that fuckin’ actress with the big tits.”

Kath closed the book with a sigh and a tear in her eye. She lay back going over the story in her mind. As she reviewed what she had read she came to feel vaguely that there was something missing from the story. She couldn’t decide what it was, she just knew there was something not quite right.

Of course, more discerning readers might have concluded that there were many things not right in the novel. Kath however was an uncritical reader, and like many people, especially women who are lacking romance in their lives, she was inclined to swallow anything that smacked of love and glamour, however farfetched.

Russ came in to say goodnight and asked, “Finished the story?”

“Yes,” Kath quavered, “very sad.”

“How does it end?”

Kath proceeded to give Russ a summary of the story starting at the point where Russ had stopped reading it. There was lots of “He said to her…oh no, before that she said to him…well after that they…” but she finally got to the end.

“Have you finished your book?” she asked.

“No, I’m just up to the part where the fourth person has just been found beheaded on the Bloodstone.”

“Fourth person; Gloria had five husbands I don’t suppose that was how she got rid of them?”

“No, it’s a different story.”

“Yes. You know how I told you that Gloria and her son decided they didn’t want to leave the island?”

“Yes.”

“Well wouldn’t that make them a bit like husband and wife?” Kath asked.

“Yes, I suppose it would.”

“At least they’d have to stay faithful to each other.”

“Why?”

“Don’t be thick Russ, who are they going to be unfaithful with?”

“Oh yes, good point. But they weren’t really like husband and wife, were they?”

“How do you mean?”

“Now you’re being thick mum. They were mother and son and they wouldn’t…er…you know…would they?”

“Wouldn’t what…oh I see what you mean. It doesn’t mention it in the book, but there’s lots of bits like, ‘He clasped her warm yielding body to him’…that’s it.”

“What’s it?”

“The missing bit.”

“What missing bit?”

“Look at this way; there’s just two of them on an island they can’t leave; she’s supposed to be a great beauty and I’ll bet she’d had a full sex life with five husbands and God knows how many lovers; he’s a hunk so I expect he’d been getting around with the girls so…”

“And according Casibom Güncel Giriş to you they don’t want to get off the island.”

“That’s what the book says…”

“So nature takes its course?”

“Yes…well they don’t have much alternative, do they? Of course there’s masturbation or total celibacy but…no I think they’d have ended up…”

“But she might have got pregnant. No hospitals, no doctors or midwives, no one.”

“Yes, that would be a bit awkward, but women must have had babies when there were no hospitals and so on.”

“You mean crawling to the back of the cave and just giving birth.”

“It doesn’t mention a cave in the book.”

“It’s a metaphorical cave. But they couldn’t, I mean mother and son, it’s against the law.”

“What law, they’re on an island; the only laws are those they make for themselves.”

“Yes; but I read somewhere that mothers and sons are never sexually attracted to each other.”

“Who wrote that rubbish? Of course you get…get…”

Kath’s voice trailed away. There was an awkward silence for a few moments, and then trying to sound bright Kath went on, “What I was going to say was that I read something about a guy called Frid or Fried in a magazine and according to the article he said that mother’s and sons are often sexually attracted to each other.”

“Really?”

“Yes, but the article did go on to say that if a mother did engage in sex with her son she would retard his sexual development.”

“Well if you’re on an island like Gloria and Garth it wouldn’t matter would it? I mean, if they are having a satisfying sexual relationship what’s to worry if he can’t get it up with someone else, there’s no one else to get it up with.”

“You’re being crude Russ, but I see what you mean.”

“So you really think that a mother and son can have…”

“My God, look at the time Russ, it’s nearly two o’clock and I’ve got to get up…”

“No you haven’t, it’s Saturday tomorrow.”

“Ah, I can have a lie in then.”

“Yes, you stay in bed and I’ll bring you breakfast.”

“Darling that is kind of you, but you know I don’t like breakfast in bed, just make it a cup of tea.”

Russ rose and trying to imitate a butler said, “Just as you say madam.”

Kath got off the couch and without asking for a goodnight kiss helped her self, letting the kiss linger a bit longer than usual.

“Goodnight darling,” she said, smiling coquettishly, “I’ll see you in bed in the morning.”

With that she hurried out of the room.

Russ was slightly disturbed by the conversation that Kath had cut short, followed by a more than usually ardent kiss, and then her rather provocative exit speech, a speech open to at least a couple of interpretations.

In bed that night he lay awake for a while mulling over what had passed between him and his mother. It was the first time they had spoken quite so openly about things sexual, and certainly where that concerned mothers and sons.

In the past he had occasionally contemplated Kath as a sexual being, but largely because he wondered why no man had permanently entered her life. He felt that her seductive female curves and heart shaped face framed in dark brown hair would have tempted most men into trying to establish a long term relationship.

At such times as he thought about this he caught himself thinking, “If I got her I wouldn’t let her go.”

He was unaware that a number of men over the years had knocked at the door of the fair Kath, and if she had let them in it was only until they started to talk of “getting together permanently.” Nor was Russ aware that the one man whom she would have let in on a lifetime basis was the very one who had fled from her when it was discovered she was carrying Russ.

His thoughts took up the theme of the book and the island castaways. “Surely they would have,” he thought, and then he started to imagine himself and Kath marooned on an island. “Would we?” he wondered.

The image intensified and he started to get an erection. He hadn’t been to see the obliging lady who living a couple of streets away had initiated him into the joys of the female body for some time. He’d had a couple of years of pleasure with her, but she and her estranged husband decided to “Try again,” and that was the end of the affair.

Now he had to resort to masturbation, and while spurting out a couple of days accrued semen he fantasised being on that island with Kath as they relieved each other of sexual tension.

Even after his ejections had finished and he was relaxing he thought, “I’d do anything she wanted…anything.”

Sleep finally came, but it was a sleep laced with dreams of the island and Kath. They were naked, and she was sitting astride him and lowering her sex organ onto his penis when he was jerked awake. It was morning and he cursed waking just as the dream reached it climactic moment.

Feeling disgruntled he rose and pulling on his dressing gown he left his bedroom and checked on Kath. She always slept with her door partially open so he peeped round it and saw that she was till asleep.

He went on to the shower and when he had finished he returned to his bedroom to dress. He checked on Kath again; she was still asleep. He noticed that on the bedside table lay a book that looked very like “The Lost Star.”

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