CHAPTER ONE

 

“I EXPECT YOU’RE wondering why I’ve sent for you, 808,” said the Governor.

The prisoner thus addressed by his last three numbers was named Frank Lander and he was a man in his early thirties, his face a little haggard and sallow after two years, eight months in Oakhampton Gaol.

“Yes, Sir, I am rather,” he answered fidgeting a little as he stood before the Governor’s desk.

“Well, it’s good news, 808" said the grizzled, middle-aged man.  He was typical of his breed ... hard-eyed, coarse in appearance, running to fat.

Frank Lander’s face brightened and he relaxed a little.  The nearer he got to the end of his sentence (and he now had only four more months to go) the more worried he got that something would go wrong and he would find he had to do that extra year he had already earned remission.

“Thank you, Sir,” he said respectfully.  He had learnt how to kow-tow to guards and the Governor, much as it went against the grain.  But, when you were in gaol they could make your life Hell for you if they wished so, bitter as it was it was best to play ball.

“In view of your model behaviour, 808.”  Went on the Governor, “I’m putting you on light duties for the last four months you serve here.  It is something I regularly do with prisoners like yourself.  You see ... my wife had difficulty in getting staff for our residence.  Outside staff, that is.  So I allocate her a prisoner to help out around the house and garden.”

“I see, Sir ...” nodded Frank Lander.

“No objection to domestic duties, I trust?” added the Governor with a lop-sided grin.

“Oh ... none, Sir,” said Frank quickly.  It sounded a real cushy number after months and months of sweating it out in the laundry and the engineering shop.

“Right then, 808,” concluded the Governor.  “Tomorrow morning, at ten o’clock, you’ll be escorted to my residence.  My wife will give you a work schedule ... and you'll be escorted back to the gaol at four o’clock.  Of course, you’ll be on trust while you’re there, because my residence is outside the prison precincts.  Still, I don’t think I need tell you what would happen if you tried to make a run for it.”

“No, Sir,” replied Frank meekly.  What a damn fool he’d be to try that when he was so near the end of his sentence!

Dismiss, 808.”

Frank Lander turned smartly on his heel and stepped briskly to the door.  First steps to freedom, he said to himself.  Well, working in the Governor’s residence would be a form of freedom compared with gaol life, wouldn’t it?

Idly he began to wonder what the Governor’s wife would be like.  No great shakes, he reckoned, if the Governor himself is anything to go by!  Still ... she was a woman after all, and couldn’t be as cold and callous as her old man ...

 

*     *     *

 

Frank Lander got a bit of a shock when he arrived at the Governor’s residence under escort the following morning.  At first he couldn’t believe it was the Governor’s wife who opened the door but the guard who accompanied him addressed her respectfully as such.

“Prisoner 808, Frank Lander, reporting for household duties, Mrs. Page,” he said.

“Thank you, Guard ...”

Frank saw a pair of dark brown eyes looking him up and down and suddenly had a butterfly feeling in his stomach.  This woman must be twenty years younger than her husband.  Around thirty, if that.  Frank strove not to look too boldly back but was conscious of a well-made body under a tight-fitting Navy Blue skirt and a low-cut multi-coloured blouse.  Frank felt a sudden warmth in his crotch.  This was the first woman he had been even near to for longer than he cared to remember.  Christ, he’d have to watch himself!  Didn’t want to foul it all up now ...

“I’ll be back for him at four o’clock, Mrs. Page,” Frank heard the guard saying.

The Governor’s wife made a nod of dismissal.  “Very well, Guard,” she said, not taking her eyes off Frank.  “Step inside, 808.”

Frank did so and heard the door being closed and locked behind him.  Then Mrs. Page came past him.  He caught the scent of her.  An aromatic scent.  And it made his pulse beat faster.  Then he had a rear view of his new ‘employer’ ... seeing the shapely woman-curves of her hindquarters swinging seductively as she moved down a passageway.  He was astonished by the height of her stiletto heels.  Five or six inches, he guessed.  It must be a new fashion.  Certainly they hadn’t been worn as high as that when he had been put away.

They entered a living room and Mrs. Page seated herself casually on the arm of a chair.  She seemed quite unconcerned by the amount of thigh she was showing as one limb crossed over the other.  With beating heart, Frank stood waiting.  He was trying desperately to stem the desire rising within him but, when you’ve been without a woman for almost three years, that’s not by any means easy.  He must ... yes, he must ... try and get a grip on himself!

“Your name is Frank?”  The voice was cool and calm, but had a hard edge to it.  The eyes had a self-assurance and authority about them.

“Yes, Ma’am ...”

“I shall call you that, rather than 808.”

Frank experienced a little stab of anger.  Perhaps it was the tone of the Governor’s wife; perhaps because she was in a position to call him what she liked.  He was not used to being treated like that by women.  However, Frank did not show his momentary anger.

“Yes, Ma’am,” he answered meekly.  No doubt I shall get used to being ordered around by a woman; just as I got used to being ordered around by men, he thought.

“There’s a list on the table.  Pick it up, Frank.”

“Yes, Ma’am ...  He did so.

“Those are your duties for today, Frank.”

The list looked remarkably long to Frank, but he said nothing.  Doubtless some of the things on the list would take very little time.

“I suppose I start at the top and work down the list, Ma’am?”

“That’s right, Frank.  You will work in trousers and shirt.  When you are in the garden, you may remove your shirt if you find it too hot.”

“Thank you, Ma’am.”

“Right ... off you go then.  You’ll find your first chores are in the kitchen.  You get a half hour break at one o’clock.”

Christ ... only half an hour off in six hours!  Frank almost protested but then thought better of it.  He didn’t want to fall out with the Governor’s wife on the first day.  Perhaps things would ease up as time went by.  As he left the room, Frank thought he detected a faint, derisive smile on his ‘employer’s’ lips.  But her eyes were as hard as ever.

Entering the kitchen, Frank saw a large pile of dirty crocks, glasses and saucepans waiting.  Dealing with them was first on his list.  Must have had some kind of party, he thought, as he set about the vast array.  Women’s work really, he reflected bitterly.  Still, prisoners couldn’t be choosers.  Especially prisoners with only four months to go.