Harriet got out of bed next morning and left Gwen fast asleep.  She went out to continue working,   after first getting herself something to eat from the kitchen  (bacon and eggs and sausages and mushrooms and all manner of other unhealthy things), hoping  that the excellent Jenkins would not mind her intrusion into his territory.

The cold was as intense as ever but the wind had dropped off.  Without Gwen working by her side, it was a slow business and the metal boxes were not full until mid-morning.  She carried them over to the site of the rockery and tipped out the contents. After yesterday night's epic struggle she was tired and sore, but forced herself to carry on until lunch-time.

As  she made her way back to the house, she reflected that yesterday's fight had been her fourth contest  only the first that she had won, after a string of defeats.   Not only that,  it had also been by far  the longest and most brutal,  and horrifically painful, although at the time she had felt nothing in all the adrenalin charged excitement of combat.

There ought to be more civilised ways of settling differences than this, she decided, and made up her mind never to lift a violent hand against another again.  It would not be her style any more, she resolved.

Gwen was still asleep when she went up to her room and Harry with infinite care and gentleness,  turned the dear girl over onto her side.  She saw properly for the first time the damage that that loathsome woman had done to her.  She went over to the dresser and started pulling drawers open and searching through them.  Finally she found what she was looking for and brought the bottle of Mrs Travers magic lotion over to the bed and started gently rubbing it into those bruised but still beautiful buttocks.  She could hardly believe  the damage that Janet had inflicted on that sweet girl and when she saw it, she changed her mind about violence.  That woman had got got what she deserved and if she, Harriet ever saw her again,  she would give her such another beating-up as would make the first seem mild by comparison!

She  lovingly turned Gwen onto her front,  went over to  a cupboard and brought a sheet and a blanket over and laid them  carefully over Gendoline's still sleeping form.  Tired herself after her morning's work, and still in great pain after last night, she slipped into the bed beside her friend, enveloped, for once,  by  the comfort of bed coverings.  She gave out a contented sigh as she  felt Gwen's lovely animal warmth against her own flanks, breathed in the scent of that beloved body next to her and fell asleep.

It was three before she woke to find Gwen had got out of bed and gone to get  something for them both to eat.  They lay together, the tray in front of them and had their first meal together since that rather uncomfortable Sunday dinner, yesterday.

Harry bit off a piece of boiled egg, took it out of her mouth and popped into Gwen's.

"She did a lot of damage to that sweet rear of yours, Gwen.  Why did you let her do that to you in your own home?"

"She was kind of blackmailing me, Harry.  Not for money, that didn't interest her.  If I didn't let her do what she liked with me, she was going to tell Jim about our affair and I can't bear to lose him.  She told me I was going to get fifty on my bottom for being hard on you last week - just any old excuse was good enough for her.   I had to stay perfectly still and count - you must have heard.  If I moved or didn't shout loud enough,  she started again.  She was getting more and more frenzied, Harry and kept telling me I'd moved or wasn't counting out loudly enough.  It went on and on until you and Jenkins came.  It was pretty bloody horrible, I can tell you!"

"You silly girl, Gwendoline!  Jim knows all about you and Janet - and you and Jessie - and you and me!  He might not like it, but he accepts it.  He knows you're  wild, self-willed, capricious and utterly out of control and he loves you for it.  He wouldn't have you any other way, you  fool!  You suffered all that abuse from that wicked bitch for nothing!"

"I hope you're right, Harry.  I hope you're right."

"Course I'm right!  Now let's see that old, lovely confident Gwen back again!  Let me feel the lash of your tongue like I did last week!"

"I'll never order you around again, darling.  If you want to stay on here and help out, I'll be most grateful - over the moon, in fact -  but we're equal partners from now on, and that's an order!  And another thing, my darling.  I said before that  if I can ever help you out of a hole, I will.  I say  it again now.  I'd count  it a sacred privilege  to be able to give my own life to save yours."

"Don't be so over-dramatic and morbid, Gwendoline!  Neither of  us is going to die for the next seventy years!"

"I hope not"

They spent the rest of Monday, after finally leaving the bedroom, sitting looking out of the dining room window at the rolling expanse of lawn and at their miserable, girlish efforts on the new swimming pool.  They had no wish to go out into the cold again.  Gwendoline took the cushion away from under her buttocks after an hour or two and gingerly lowered her bare and battered rump onto the wooden seat.  She breathed a sigh of relief.

"That stuff of Mrs Travers  works wonders, Harry!.  I've lost all the soreness already.  Can I tell you a terrible secret?"

"Don't bother, Gwen!   I can guess - you've started to get back a yen for the odd spanking!"

"I promise I won't over-indulge, Harriet my darling!  Just the odd bit of fooling about now and again - nothing  heavy - well, not that heavy - well, only really awfully heavy  very occasionally -  I mean it's my arse after all -  stop looking at me in that reproachful way !!"

"Nice to see you looking more cheerful sweetheart!   All that morbid stuff about dying for me!  I was getting really depressed."

Gwendoline returned to the subject of last night.

"That fifty turned into a whole lot more than fifty.  Guess how many I got, Harry.  If you get within five we can share a glass or five of of my very, very best Burgundy together"

"One hundred and twenty five?"

"Not even close.  Try again."

"One hundred and fifty?"

"Wrong again!  Give up?"

"Give up"

"Three  hundred and seventy six and a half.  The half was when you came in!  Not bad, eh!  I wonder if it's a record of some kind?  AND I took that little lot and still had the strength to come and watch you two slugging it out on my terrace!"

"When I was a little girl I'd ride my tricycle up and down that terrace.  Watching you take her apart was much more fun!  So was washing the blood away this morning while you were working away out there!  The stains will never come out totally - I'll always think of you when I look at them!   Come on - we''ll still have that wine - Jenkins decanted it earlier and  it should be ready to drink by now - our special way!  Stay where you are,dear!   I'll be right with you.  Lie down on your back and get yourself  ready!"

Gwen soon returned with one glass and a decanter.  She poured some wine into the glass, raised it to her lips and poured it into her mouth,  then leant over Harriet's expectantly parted lips and let the wine  trickle out of her mouth into her friend's.

She paused while Harriet rolled the wine around her tongue and swallowed.  "What's the verdict, sweetie pie?

"Wonderful stuff, Gwendoline.  Must have been at least ten years in that cellar of yours, and all the better for having been in your sweet mouth  just now!  Time for you to have some - lie down and open wide!  There's a good girl!"

 By the time the decanter was empty and Gwen had gone and procured two more bottles of the same rare vintage from the cellar, both young ladies were ready to sleep.  They walked very carefully and uncertainly, lurching arm in arm to bed.  Jenkins heard and saw the naked, battered but happy pair singing some incomprehensible but clearly obscene ditty,  staggering clasped to each other,  along the corridor.  He allowed himself a rare smile.  Yes! The old house was all the better for a breath of fresh air, he reflected,  making his own way to bed.  He took a rather more generous swig than usual from his hip-flask and fell asleep, remembering for the thousandth time, that  intoxicating wet kiss Gwendoline had given him last night.  If he could die for her, what a perfect way to go!