Time Once More for Marilyn: Captivated & Rekindled Romance Read Free Page A

wet my flannel in warm water to clean me up..
                  “There, that should sort your problem.”  She smiled as she poured the tea and drank it. Obviously the tea was never intended for me! I got up forgetting that my pyjamas were undone. The trousers slid to the floor and I presented myself naked to this pretty girl. She grinned as I, in confusion tried to pull them up. My blush extended further than just my face, I felt warm all over. “No.” She said. “Don’t bother. You would be astonished at the sights I have seen. Silly fat old men who think that I will drop my panties at seeing them naked. But you, young man is definitely much better on the eye. I should have brought you tea every morning. That would have set me up for the day.” I wondered later if I also would have been set up for the day if that happened.
                 
                  Marilyn waved from a first floor window as I got into the car. I had a lump in my throat and was very quiet for most of our journey home.

 
    CHAPTER TWO
     
     
                  We had promised to write and we did. Every week brought a letter from Marilyn and I replied about every two weeks. Writing letters was not a problem, it was what you said in them that taxed the mental processes and I could never think of anything to say. But as is the way of things gradually the letters eased to once every two weeks from Marilyn, then three weeks then once a month then nothing. I was as much to blame as she, for I had written less often than Marilyn. It was not that I didn’t want to keep the correspondence going, but with little chance of seeing Marilyn for some time if at all,  there seemed to be no point in the exercise. I am not certain whether it was the paucity of my letters, or if she had found another young man visiting the hotel to keep her company. Whatever the contact, and as fleeting as it was, it fell by the wayside. Next year, Frankie Vaughan also recorded 'Kisses Sweeter than Wine' and every time I heard it, I experienced a moment of melancholy for the days I had spent with Marilyn.
                 
                  My life went on, the question at that time was should I go to University. My parents were very much in favour of that. I on the other hand, knew that I would be wasting time and money. I doubted that I would get even a minor degree. I was bored with education. Things were happening and there were good jobs available for everyone with or without a degree. Having said that my first job was a mistake from the start. With my mind set on independence I joined a large department store as a management trainee, I soon found out the management part of the contract was quietly forgotten by the top floor and I was simply a department assistant. I left after ten months and took a position as assistant to the Sales Director of a company offering heavy haulage. My father had pulled some strings to get me there, and to be honest, I wish he hadn’t bothered, although I never told him that.. The director was one of the most self-absorbed, loud mouthed, egotistical pedagogues you would ever meet. According to him he had never put a foot wrong, and he knew better than any expert no matter what the topic. He boasted of his fine war record, yet one of our representatives who had been a Commando during the war and didn't boast about it, treated the Director's bragging with cynicism. You may ask how he got to this position. He was there because he knew somebody. It was the typical system of British industry at the time; know the right people and you got the top job. Whether you were competent was not a concern. Faced with incompetent bosses the unions found that they could take everyone for a ride, no wonder the UK industrial base collapsed. Of course the irony that I was there because someone pulled strings passed me by; anyway, I was in no position to either create success or