"You know very well I wouldn't trade you in for anyone. God only knows why but that's just the way it is. Now, shut up. Clara understands me. That's all. Now, is there time to have a drink here or do you have a packed program in store for this crowd?"
I looked at the Texan historians, who seemed to be having a wonderful time in a most un-academic manner. Harry smiled, enigmatically.
"I know just the place. Fuck Nelson. He can wait for another day. I'm going to take you to Henryk's brothel and get you naked. Your understanding girlfriend can come too. I'll call ahead and get them to rustle up one of their infamous buffet lunches."
My husband eased himself up from his throne and staggered off into the shady bar in search of a telephone. Clara slipped one arm about my waist and I wondered how accepting the Caribbean was when it came to single-sex relationships. Her nipples were hard and clearly defined against the thin orange cloth of her bikini top and she still wore her glasses. I turned to face the bright blue expanse of sea and leaned over the deck rail, enjoying the warmth of her skin against my thinly clothed body.
"Of all the gin joints in the Caribbean, you had to walk into this one. What are you doing here, Clara?"
Clara laughed.
"Actually, I live in Antigua, my dear Jay. I help out at OJ's when I'm not doing island tours. You could say I have fingers in many tarts. Talking of which, I had better warn you that Henryk's is something of a den of iniquity."
"Perfect!"
Ignoring the crowd, I kissed her softly on the mouth.
"Come to lunch with us, Clara."
"Oh all right, Jay, you talked me into it."
Her dark eyes were hungry again and I surreptitiously reached up to fondle her breasts. I knew what I was having for lunch and it wasn't fish cakes.
CHAPTER SIXTEEN: GOING OUT WITH A BANG
It took Harry quite a few attempts to extricate the Texans from the cozy conviviality of OJ's Beach Bar. He eventually managed it, finally having to borrow a megaphone from mein host, Oliver, and clambering up onto the bar to make a Very Important Announcement involving a Tsunami warning and the delights of Henryk's (which apparently included the talents of two young ladies called The Boobsy Twins). To our surprise, we bumped into the Black Widow, freshly arrived on a shocking pink Vespa, with bimbo toy boys in tow, while herding the historians back onto the buses, and Gigi decided to join the tour.
At this point in the narrative Mrs. Neptune succumbed to the temptations of Sappho. As her tongue was half way down the tour guide Clara's throat, I must pick up the slack.
My stoned and inebriated cargo hoisted themselves into the bus with the air of Texans about to grab a few minutes shuteye. Jay and friend clambered onto the front seat beside me and started snogging. Disgusting, I call it. They didn't invite me. Just wait though, Harry will have his moment…
"Put the bus back where you found it, Harry, me old mate! Oi'll take the survivors on to the delights of Nelson's Dockyard and a bit of fresh air."
"Enjoy yourself, Hardy! Pop in for a swift half on the way back."
"Oi might well do that, Harry old lad, oi might well indeed. Give me regards to Henryk!"
That latter request, as Kismet Hardy well knew, would be difficult to accommodate. If there ever was a Henryk he was long gone, and Henryk's was now owned by a Cabinet Minister, a senior police officer, and a democratic sprinkling of ladies of ill repute, waiters, and cooks.
As I started the engine the passenger door slid back. Mrs. Gigi Goldfinkel and toy boys clambered aboard, shoving a couple of Texans to the rear to make room for themselves.
"Press on, you naughty boy! Gigi's had a cocktail and she'll want a tinkle when we get there!"
One toy boy picked her up and plonked her on his lap, so I guess we all know how they were going to while away the journey. I was starting to feel quite left out.
I bade Rasta farewell and he trotted off up to the road to find his next lift. No doubt a new tale about loony honkies would be born tonight in the rum shops of Old Road. As I drove off I saw he had commandeered Gigi's scooter and was flying up the road with dreadlocks streaming in the wind.
The last time I was in Henryk's was for a wake. An Irishman had perpetuated the legend by drinking himself to death in the record time of eleven years on the island (most go much quicker). There was much crying, much drinking, and much giving of solace. Or so I am told.
I headed back past Jolly Harbour, Bolan's Village and Jennings until I came to the road to Five Islands and carried on instead of turning into town. My head was clearing with the breeze and I felt ready for the next challenge.
"Oh, Clara!"
"Oh, Jay!"
OJ? Oh, I see. Jay had Clara pressed up against me and was vigorously doing something under the guide's sarong. I had a surreptitious feel of her thigh and no one complained. There was a stirring in the trouser department. I pressed on the loud pedal and reached across for a fondle of an orange bikini'd breast.
In a jiffy we juddered to a halt in front of the big low building known to all and sundry as Henryk's.
"Missah Neptun'! Missah Neptun"! You got plenty stamina today?"
A double vision in double bounty stood guard at the wide front door. I never could work out which Boobsy Twin was which, but I had had a lot of fun trying. They wore short dresses with the deepest of deep octoroon cleavage, the better to air their magnificent assets.
"Darling girls!"
I leapt out of the driver's seat and into their arms. Jay and Clara were still at it, now sprawled across my newly vacated seat. I made up for their lack of attention by kissing first one Boobsy then the other, then all four Boobsy boobs.
"Gigi's coming!"
"I bet she is… Girls, meet Mrs. Goldfinkel, Toy Boy One, and Toy Boy Two. Call them Humpty and Dumpty for short. Where's dinner? I'm starving. Must be something I smo… drank."
"Weed! Weed! Little weed!"
Miss Lawrence and Clara had decided to rejoin the world, and the former was regaling me with a ditty from an ancient children's television program. No doubt she thought it was appropriate.
A Boobsy unzipped my shorts and slipped a hand inside.
"Lunch, Harry! Got to keep yo' strength up to keep Harry up!"
"Indeed, my dear. I phoned ahead for the famous buffet. You might send some of the boys out to waken the rest of our passengers. They seem to have been overcome by the heat or something. I'm sure some lobster and jerk goat will bring them back to life. They're from Texas you know – everything is very big in Texas."
"Not as big as this thing, Harry! You been exercising!"
I smiled, as might any man with a beautiful hand caressing his pride and joy while affording a view of the most delightful chasm north of Dominica.
The other Boobsy took my hand and we led the crocodile of lust indoors.
Me and Boobsy's in the van, Jay and Clara holding hands behind, then Gigi in a chair of the toy boys" arms, and finally a straggling procession of Texans supported by Henryk's grinning bouncers.
"Who's for a nice game of Charades?"
I reluctantly disengaged myself from my sultry South American compadre and stared at the large man in the loud shirt. He looked vaguely familiar. Oh yes. My husband. He had a half-naked busty black beauty under each armpit and a serious swelling in his shorts. I swiftly adopted my supportive wifely role of chief heckler and straight sidekick.
"Have you gone completely nuts, Neptune? This is a brothel not a holiday camp!"
Harry pretended to ignore me and the Black Widow uttered a piercing shriek of delight.
"Oh! Oh! I do love party games! Don't you dare start until I'm back from my tinkle!"