French Life – Mr Allen 7

We spent a day or so with my good friend BF and his family before heading back to the UK. This gave me time to reflect on the whole Mr Allen & Amy saga and to talk it through with somebody. It was all very odd, but I was more inclined to believe Mr A partly because he was so matter of act and weary of the whole thing but more because of Jenny. She was normal and had been very frightened when I got their flat. I mean really frightened.
I then thought on why would Amy have been at his house in Egham and not announced herself when I arrived? what was going on there?

Then there was this business of flashing her bits and the barely keeping her clothes on. Mr Allens explanation of blackmailing blokes was pretty plausible.

I did not need any persuasion on the bit about mum being an alcoholic and having had electric shock therapy. That was explained by the odd behaviour.

If I am honest, the thing uppermost in in my concerns, was that I got paid the balance of what I was owed by Amy, before I discussed the possibility of doing a little job for Mr Allen. I had given him some basic advice on hiding himself, as I did feel he was in genuine fear, and as I said, I could see his part of the story added up.

However I could not rule out that having lived a life of deception, albeit well intentioned, that he was not adverse to the odd fib himself. But sometimes you just have to go with one side rather than the other or else you don’t get anywhere.
I arranged to meet Amy at her house in Ruislip but i made it afternoon rather than morning. When I got to the house there was a white van parked in the road andnd Amys Volvo 4×4 on the drive.

Yet again she was just shoe horned into her clothes. A skimpy white blouse with little leather waist coat and matching shortish skirt. Very Sally James, I think that was her name, she used to be on OTT and Tiswas with Chris Tarrant back in the late 70s early 80s.

Amy made me a cup of tea and asked me to sit on the settee. She sat opposite and made small talk and it was not long before she gave more than a little glimpse of her charms.

I told her the truth. I had contacted all the hospitals the police and everyone else. No hotel had a record of Mr Allen being there. His car was not at the airport and had disappeared. I had doubts that he had ever stayed in Lourdes and that there was no evidence to say he was still in France. It was my belief that he was in the South of Spain bearing in mind the proximity to the French Spanish border. This was also true because I had told him to go to Spain and to spend two weeks there and to do some extravagant shopping on his Credit Card. I may have forgotten to mention the last tiny detail.

She didn’t look too happy for a minute and then asked where we went from here.

“Well” I said “If he is in Spain he will need to use his cards and no doubt these will show up on his statement. In fact you might even get a phone call asking if these are correct transactions. The card companies do that from time to time. I could make some enquiries but I am not sure how much money you want to spend and whether it is worth it”

“I see your point” she said leaning back and opening her legs slightly. “Would you like paying in cash or cheque?”

“I prefer cash” I said

“Oh so you don’t have to pay tax?” she smiled

“No, its not that, its just that cash doesn’t bounce or get stopped” I smiled back

“Oh no I wouldn’t do that to you” She purred

“I wouldn’t let you” I smiled back again.

She went to her bag and got out the agreed sum in cash. That was all OK, so I put it in my pocket.

Now having been told of Amy and her old mans weird little set up, I was well on my guard and whilst sipping my tea had a good look around the room. Then I saw it, a little round plastic thing on a shelf pointing at the settee. Fuck me a little web cam or just a spy cam. I didn’t want to show out so didn’t pay it to much attention. But I reckon they were about to try to have one over on old Uncle Norman.

Amy slid off her chair so that the skirt barely covered her upper thighs. She helped it up a bit more and stood in front of me, I was looking at the top of her brown smooth thighs. I was aware of the blood rushing from my head to my brains. I tried think of old nuns. Its a bad habit I have to try to stay calm in these circumstances. Who am I kidding this was a weird.

“What do you think” she cooed

” Very strokeable” I said honestly

“You can touch if you like” she said sitting down on the settee and reclining slightly.

“I would love to, but I just need to go to the loo first if you don’t mind”

She pretended to be disappointed, gave me directions and told me not to be long. How did she know? On what Mr Allen had said then hubby must be somewhere watching. I went up stairs to the toilet. All the doors were open except one. I bet that’s where the old man is.  I went into the toilet to prepare myself for the two phone trick.  I have two mobiles, one for work and a personal one.  I brought my work number up on the screen of the private number so that all I had to do was press the call button.  Now to see if hubby was where I thought he was.
I tapped very gently on the door with my finger nail tap tap tap.

A hushed voise from the room said “What is it?”

tap tap tap 

“Quick come out here” I said in a hushed voice just loud enough to hear but to quiet to be distinct
“What?”

Tap tap tap 

“Come here” A bit louder this time.

I heard movement and ducked back to the bathroom and pushed the door almost shut.  I hear the bedroom door open and hubby was now on the landing.  I heard him say in a louad whisper “Whats wrong?”

I opened the bathroom door a chink and saw hubby looking over the banister of the landing.  Hubby was well over 6foot 3 tall and must have weighed about 17 stone (110kg).  He shook his head and went back into the bedroom.

I went down stairs.

“You took your time don’t you like me?”

“Oh I like very much” which I did, apart from the little fact that she was a blackmailing slut.  Allegedly.

” What would you like me to do” she said

Time for the old two phone trick.  I pressed the ring button on my personal phone.  My work phone rang so quickly I almost jumped out of my skin. Ring ring ring.

“I’ll leave it and get the message” I said starting to undo my belt.

“Maybe it could be news of my father” she said quickly

“Maybe, I should get it I suppose”

I answered the phone and had a contrived conversation with  my other phone.  I concluded by saying I would be there in an hour and I was just leaving Ruislip.

I looked at this sexy woman and thought if only you weren’t barking mad.  But I suppose if she wasn’t a loon she wouldn’t be offering herself to me like this.  Although if you squint at me I am sure I look Like Mel Gibson.  OK if you squint at me after several beers I look like Mel.

“Sorry I said but I must go”  I leant and kissed her on the forehead. “Give me a ring if you want to carry on otherwise I’ll be in touch if I hear anything.”

I gathered up my bits and Amy looked just ever so slightly uncomfortable in her attire.

“Thanks for the tea” I said

“You’re welcome”

I know I am not getting any younger but I was bloody stiff as I walked out of that house I can tell you.

Cold shower for Norman Please Miss!

3 Responses to “French Life – Mr Allen 7”

  1. Brigitte says:

    Why did you knock on the bedroom door and get the husband out? Why did you not just confront them there and then?

  2. Ooh Norman, you have nerves of steel, which is obviously not the only hard thing about you..
    E’s ‘ard – well ‘ard…

    xx

  3. John Humphries says:

    Glad to see you have stopped shagging everything that moves. Those sheep can breathe easily now!

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