“I know, but I think we should leave well alone, it’s not our business to interfere”.
“But he’s deceiving people, and he should be exposed….Look, he’s getting on his motorbike. Shall we call the police? I mean, it’s anonymous isn’t it? you don’t have to give your real name and address do you?”
“I don’t think so, look, let’s just forget about it. What if he finds out we told on him, he might know a few people who would love nothing more than to come round here and cause us all sorts of trouble”.
“Yes, that’s true, I didn’t think of that”. She kept looking out at his house, even though he’d ridden away.
“I bet he’s on his way to the town centre again, to spend the whole day sitting on the floor begging for change. I saw him with a dog last time. ’…Aw look at the poor little doggie, I’d better give this man some money’. Makes me bleedin’ ill, people like that”. She came away from the window. Alex was already sitting back in front of the coffee table, playing cards stacked for gin rummy.
Alex was slightly taller than Michelle, and liked to wear clothes directly from the eighties, usually cream coloured. Michelle wore practically anything, but now was wearing a black satin toga dress with a loose belt around the stomach.
“Ok,” she said, “Where were we?” Before she could sit down, a crying came from upstairs.
“Ah, the baby has woken,” she said as a statement, walking up the stairs.
Alex went back to the window and pulled back the net curtain, wondering if maybe they could somehow alert the authorities without being discovered. There was hardly any doubt that he was on benefits. Scrounging from the state because he knew he could get away with it. He put his hand out, the government gave him free money, the taxpayers complained, but nothing was ever done about it. He kept crying poverty, and begged on the streets, his sad face pleading with people for a cup of tea, or some bus fare home, or any copper. Yet, it seemed to work. Although the house and expensive goods said he had income from alternative sources, that didn’t seem to be enough. Perhaps he knew he had a talent to wring people out of their change, and he would certainly exploit that, enjoying his deception.
Five minutes later, Michelle came down the stairs with a soiled, soaking nappy, and walked into the kitchen.
“We need more food for the babby,” she said.
“Ok,” said Alex, “One of us should go the supermarket”. Michelle reappeared.
“Yes,” she said with a wry smile on her face, “One of us should”.
Alex pointed at the cards on the table.
“Loser goes”. Michelle nodded, and they played.
The sky was darkening, and bringing with it a breeze with light spots of rain, as though it was a taster of a bigger storm to come, but Michelle walked the short distance to the shopping area to its main retail supermarket where she soon found the c***dren’s and babies aisle.
What to get, she thought. A few dummies, maybe a couple of toys, a new story book. She put several items in her basket and slowly browsed around, filling it up as she went, and was soon using the self-service to fill up two bags.
Outside, she contemplated going to look for the charlatan who would no doubt be using his expertise to con people out of money, probably crouching down somewhere with a sad look on his face and an empty cardboard coffee carton on the floor. What would I do? she thought. He doesn’t even know me, let alone know I’m onto him. The cold biting into her made her decision and she headed home.
When she entered the house, Alex was coming down the stairs.
“He wanted his toys”. Michelle smiled.
“I got everything, and something extra,” she said, walking through into the kitchen. She appeared in the doorway holding up a tub of fresh cream double.
“I got this because later you’re going to be licking it off my tits”. Alex smiled and nodded.
“Yes”, you know me too well”.
Half an hour later they were both in deep concentration, opposite each other, scrutinising their cards like they were in a major competition final. Michelle laid down three kings.
“There you go, but I’m not going to knock the table, I’m going to knock your stupid face”. She stood up, walked around the table to crash her hand across Alex’s face as hard as she could.
“Knock!”. She sat back down.
“Did you see our friend across the road when you were out?” Alex asked a few minutes later.
“No, I was nearly going to go and look for him, but I didn’t” She stood back up again and walked across to the window, looking out at his house.
“Probably raking it in the slimy fucker”.
As she walked back to the sofa, Alex stood up and stepped across to her.
“Sod the game, I’m fucking horny”. Michelle smiled and ran through into the kitchen for the cream. When she came back in, Alex was laying on the sofa, smiling. Michelle knelt before her and opened her legs.
“I’m gonna pour this on your pussy” said Michelle. Alex took off her top to expose her ample breasts, as did Michelle, who climbed on top of her. They both pulled aside one cup of their bras to rub nipples together. Michelle reached back for the tub of cream and was about to pour it over Alex when the baby started crying. They both smiled.
“I’ll go” said Michelle, putting the cream down, and standing up.
“Does he want his bottle?” asked Alex.
“I shouldn’t think so. I’ll go and check”. She was soon walking up the stairs and into his bedroom.
“Whassamatter?” she said, approaching his cot. The baby was crying, kneeling down and holding forth a toy train. The engine and carriage had separated.
She shook her head. “Oh dear, have you broken your train?” Derek nodded. He was 76 years-old, his face a mass of wrinkles. He wore a nappy, and several earrings.
For many years he had harboured many sexual fetishes, but being an adult baby was his favourite, and with his ordinary life not taking a particularly positive path, his own c***dren ignoring him, as well as his work colleagues, he retreated into himself, met Alex and Michelle at a sex addiction clinic which also catered for ‘alternatives’, and had lived as a baby for three years, 24/7.
Michelle hugged him.
“There there now. It’s alright”.