The Trunk

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The two partners giggled as they slipped under the yellow blanket.

“Jonny, are you sure about this? Isn’t it too soon?”

“In order to stay at the top, Mavis, we have to get straight back into training, not rest on our laurels.”

“Of course you’re right….

“Mavis,” he said, “you are beautiful.”

“What, Jonny, even in the dark or especially in the dark?”

“Cor, it is dark isn’t it? But, I must say, you feel beautiful in the dark.”

“Be careful what you feel, I’m married.”

“Me too Mave, but hey, no-one will find us here. I just want a kiss.”

“Me too, Jonny, me too.”



The ancient cottage had to come down and it had to be today. It was so dilapidated, having been empty for just about as long as anyone could remember. Now the recent floods during the spring had weakened the foundations and it had to go.

It wasn’t a noteworthy building, worthy of preservation. It was built as a single room in the early years of Victoria’s reign, with odd rooms added piecemeal, as the original farm labourers mobil porno who rented the place needed to accommodate their expanding family, even adding an upstairs in 1887, the fact testified by a crudely chiselled stone set in the wall.

The farmhouse and the farm itself was finally abandoned in 1940 when the flat plateau nearby, which had grown barley, oats or grazed sheep by turns for many centuries, was concreted over by the Ministry of War, as a runway for a squadron of Hurricanes, fighting the Battle of Britain.

Although the fields and property should have been returned to the owners immediately after the cessation of the conflict, apparently it never had. The Ministry of Defence kept finding a military use for it until the mid-1950s and then the USAF used it as part of the Cold War defences for another twenty years. Now the airfield is used by weekend flyers.

The roof of the old cottage had long since fallen in and a large bulge recently appeared in the brick and stonework, which threatened the safety of ramblers using the adjacent public right of way alman porno which passed as a bridleway running by the cottage. Therefore, the property, lacking any architectural or historical merit, was scheduled for demolition.

The trunk, when it was found, was in a narrow locked storeroom at the very back of the building, once thought to have been a bathhouse. There was much excitement among the wrecking crew once the walls were removed and the shout of discovery of something interesting called a halt to their proceedings.

Loose rubble was cleared from the top to reveal the stout iron trunk. The trunk wasn’t even locked, the foreman declared, much to the disappointment of the assembly, who groaned in unison. It was only that the catch had slipped over the loop, so it appeared effectively locked to the casual observer, even to one who tried to open it without swinging the heavy cast iron catch clear of the loop.

The foreman unhooked that latch, swung open the lid, removed a dusty yellow blanket inside the chest and immediately fell to his knees, alexis texas porno making the sign of the cross as he did so. The expectant crowd of demolition workers fell silent.

Inside the chest were two skeletons. Even though the couple wore antique athletic clothing, it was clear that they were man and woman and they had died together in each other’s arms.

They were carefully removed and laid reverentially side by side on the ground, wrapped once more in the yellow blanket, the onlookers saw in silence.

The foreman bent over the pair after noticing a glint of sun on shiny metal around each neck. On closer inspection, they looked like identical gold medals.

The foreman had left his reading glasses in the cab of the truck, but he borrowed the specs of the JCB driver and peered at the inscription, holding it at both arms’ length to focus. Along the top he could read quite clearly, “Xth Olympiade 1948”.

The curved writing around the bottom of the medal was much smaller and defeated him, although he thought the first two words were, “Mixed Pairs…”

“Hey, Jake,” the foreman said to one of the younger lads present, “Tell us what the rest of this inscription says, will you?”

“Aye,” the young lad took it dubiously, rubbing at the pristine metal with a grubby thumb, reading, “Mixed Pairs Hide & Seek Champions.”

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