Chapter 163.
Later that morning, when Bobby and Mélisande had gone out to the shops for some goodies, Clarissa decided it was time to give Nicole a ring.
“Let’s see… nearly twelve. She’ll definitely be finished by now. So… Nicole. Hi. He’s bitten. Yes. And the pink one, Yes. Apparently he thinks the skirt’s a bit longer, and he prefers the undies. I know. Well… What did you say? Get Cynthia to take it up a few inches? You devious thing! Yes, well, it would be a shame not to show off those pretty bloomers, it’s true! Let’s keep his boot boy outfit in reserve just in case he refuses. Yes. Brilliant. And how’s the birthday present going? Good. Yes, I think it’ll suit him. It’ll be exciting for Mellie, having a grey to ride at the show. You said it’ll be slightly larger…? Oh, and more flexible too? Great. He’s certainly muscled up with all this training. Yes, she really puts him through his paces. I think he must be as strong as a real pony by now! Okay, Nicole. Well I see you in a few days, anyway. Sorry? Oh, tomorrow, yes… Don’t worry, I’ll get him up nice and early. What? Don’t be so rude! Naughty girl. Okay. Bye for now. Bye!”
The rest of the day passed uneventfully, Mélisande teasing Bobby about his new outfit, and thinking up alternative names for him.
“Course, we could just call you “Bobbi”, like the girl’s name…”
“I think that might be too much of a clue, dear…”
“Yes. You’re right, mummy. I’ll look online… Hmm… How about Bella? Blossom! That’s a funny one. Bunny! Haha…”
“Darling, it doesn’t have to begin with a “B”. Just think of something pretty. A pretty flower, maybe. A pretty pink flower…yes.”
“Er… Some poppies are pink…”
“There you are. Poppy. Perfect.”
“Ooh, Poppy!” smirked Mélisande. “Suits you, Bobby.”
“I don’t like it. Sounds stupid – sort of posh and twee.”
“Poppy it is, then,” laughed Mélisande. “Poppy, Poppy, Bobby Poppy! I love it!”
Clarissa had to smile. “I think it’s sweet, Bobby.”
“I hate it.”
“That’s settled then. Get used to it.”
Bobby glared at Clarissa. She normally treated him with respect. Now it was like he was the butt of their joke. He snorted his disapproval. But he knew there wasn’t much he could do.
Clarissa got them both to bed early, and had an early night herself. She had to attend to Bobby the next morning, and needed to have him in the stable by six; Mélisande had strict instructions never to present herself before the appointed time, which tomorrow was seven. Clarissa slept fitfully, wondering what sort of state Bobby would be in after weeks of (she imagined) abstinence. She hoped he would be in urgent need of her ministrations.
Bobby himself was tossing and turning, having anxiety dreams about… No, not the dressage event, but the longer term. His first dream saw him waiting nervously in his parlour for the first customer – then opening the door to find the waiting room empty! But that was superseded by a worse one. A crowded waiting room, and dissatisfied customers. Trying to cope with overwhelming demand, and being continually interrupted by girls with complaints. “These ain’t as shiny as Jen’s! What, d’you fancy ‘er or somefink?” “You got polish on my jods, silly boy! I’ve reported it to Miss Poole, and I will expect you to pay for the dry cleaning.” “Bobby! A girl just came to me in tears. Is it true, you told her to “bog off”? I see. Three strokes of the dressage whip at lunchtime – in the paddock. One o’clock sharp!” And so on. The alarm woke him in the middle of a dream about two real bitches whose boots he had cleaned. One of them had gone out for a team photoshoot and got mud of her toecap – and of course they blamed him, and were planning his punishment…
� 
Topic: His Aunt Nicole (Read 53108 times)
