John Thomas & Lady Jane

which one has no control. And he was the
sap who was going to be the father.
    His quick ears (they did thirty miles
per hour) were startled by a sound. He looked up, and saw a keeper, a
big-faced, middle-aged man, striding round the brambles and dog-rose thickets.
Quickly he put her dress down, and as she began to lift her face he murmured:
    ‘Keep still! There’s keeper! Dunna
move!’ And he held her closer.
    ‘Now then!’ said the burly keeper, in
ugly challenge, and Soames felt all her body jolt in his arms. He pressed her
closer. The keeper was smiling an ugly smile.
    ‘Let us be, man, can’t you!’ said
Soames, in a soft, quiet voice, looking into the light-blue, half-triumphant
eyes of the other fellow. ‘We’re harmin’ nothing. Have yer niver ’ad a woman in
your arms yourself!’ The perfect quiet rebuke of his voice was in key with the
steady, unabashed rebuke in his eyes. But he remained still and defenceless,
his clothing all undone and hanging out, with an erection that was starting to
wilt the longer the keeper kept him there, the woman hiding her face against
his naked body, under his turned-back shirt.
    The keeper looked at the clinging
woman hiding her face, and at her legs in their silk stockings. He slowly
looked away, and the nasty smile went off his face.
    ‘Aye!’ he said, in a changed voice.
‘But Squire an’ some of ’is folks is walkin’ a bit down the ’coppy and they
don’t want to see that,’ he said indicating the erection.
    ‘They aren’t cornin’ this road, are
they? Nobody can see us in here,’ said Soames.
    ‘You won’t stop long, though,’ said
the keeper and walked off.
    ‘You can’t go anywhere for a good
fuck,’ said Soames. ‘Niver mind, ’e’s gone! Dunna bother about it, it’s nawt,
’e’s not a bad sort of chap. What’s it matter! What’s it matter! There’s folks
ivrywhere! I’m a folk and I’m everywhere.’
    ‘I know the old squire here,’ said Constance.
    And she rose, and they went slowly
back to the path where long ago Byron must have limped with his wonky leg in
his unhappy inability to feel sure in his love. Had he been interrupted by a
gamekeeper as he was about to orgasm? All that and a gammy leg.
    The old, old countryside where Byron
walked, limping along behind Mary Chaworth.
    ‘If I really want you to do
something, will you do it?’ Constance asked.
    ‘Anything except pulling a plough.’
    ‘If I can’t bear it will you come and
live with me, even next month. We can go to Italy.’
    ‘Oh! How about Canada, Australia or South Africa?’
    ‘If you feel that’s better, I will.’
    She kissed him and walked up the
street.
    He went to cross the road and was run
over by a bus.

BY THE SAME AUTHOR
    ------------------------
    A Selection:
     
    Lady Chatterley’s
Lover According to Spike Milligan
    In Spike Milligan’s
intense, steaming, palpitating, lustful, unexpurgated retelling of Lady
Chatterley’s romps with a member of the lower orders (with footnotes), many
hitherto unknown aspects are revealed (as well as — all too frequently — the gamekeeper’s delicate white
loins).
     
    The Bible According
to Spike Milligan
    There have been many
versions of the Old Testament over the centuries but never one quite like this.
Spike Milligan has rewritten, in his own inimitable style, many of the
best-known stories of the Old Testament, featuring characters like King (my
brain hurts) Solomon, the great oaf of a giant Goliath and the well-known Telegraph crossword clue, Hushai the Archite. Believers and non-believers alike will
enjoy this hilarious reworking, where the jokes, jests and jibes tumble over
each other from Chapter One, Verse One, until the end.
     
    Wuthering Heights According to Spike Milligan
    Here are Emily
Bronte’s characters as you have never seen them before: Edgar Linton, ‘a
well-meaning nerd’; Hareton Eamshaw, a life member of Alcoholics Anonymous by
the age of five, while Heathcliff s longing for Cathy is surpassed only by his
passion for a good vindaloo.