Whatever Happened to Charley's Aunt - Chapter 08 of 10

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It started as a simple, if strange, request: "I want you to play the part of my great-aunt," said Charley Hawkins, the sexiest girl at Seacombe University.

It turned into a hunt for Charley's Aunt, who had disappeared almost fifty years ago.

This story is complete and will be published in ten chapters at approximately daily intervals.

Author's Note: This is a light-hearted, cross-dressing mystery story, written in my normal style, which I hope you enjoy. It does contain references to adult themes, and some of its characters have little sympathy with the Catholic Church. Please don't read if you feel this will upset you.

CHAPTER 8

"Thanks for asking me to come with you," Matt said.

"I thought it would be more fun if you did," Sam said. "I've never driven this far before, and certainly never driven this car in a lot of traffic. Did you manage to borrow a road atlas? Somehow I think the 1960s' version in this car wouldn't be very useful, as the M1 appears to end at Rugby."

"Better than that," Matt said, "I've borrowed a satnav. I thought it would be a bit of a waste to use this car on the motorways, so I've set the satnav to use mainly B-roads. It should be a great drive."

"All B-roads? Are you certain that's a good idea?"

"Course it is. It'll make it into a really pleasant drive."

***

As they drove through the Cotswolds, Sam had to concede that Matt had been right. Beautiful undulating hills and pretty, unspoilt villages. They stopped for a coffee break in Bourton-on-the-water, and sat admiring the stream running through the centre of the village.

"Isn't it gorgeous?" Matt asked.
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"It's impossible to imagine the contrast," Sam said, "between this paradise and the crowded, dirty, noisy city we'll be in this evening."

"It's not turned twelve, yet," Matt said. "We could cancel the hotel booking in Sheffield and stay a few days here. GG doesn't have to know. We could simply tell him you were unsuccessful.

"It would be fun, here," he continued, "just the two of us and there's no compulsion about anything. We could tour the area, go to a few museums, go to a few nice pubs. What do you say?"

Sam looked around the pretty village, and then back at the incredibly handsome Matt. It was an extremely tempting idea.

"But I want to find the answer," Sam said. "Come on, drink up your coffee and let's hit the road."

***

"Matt," Sam said, some time later, "we've been driving for almost four hours and we're still thirty miles from Birmingham, and we've been thirty miles from Birmingham for the last hour."

"Well of course we're not going through Birmingham," Matt agreed. "We need to skirt it."

"Are we going to stop somewhere soon and have some lunch?"

"Well, I don't think there's going to be anywhere suitable for another hour or so."

"Matt, I can't drive for another hour without food and drink. Set the satnav to find the nearest restaurant."

"Em," Matt said. "I'm not really certain how to."

Sam stopped the car at the side of the road and said. "Hand it over, I'll set it."

"No," Matt said, "you're a girl. You won't know how to work one of these."

"Since I'm a girl," Sam said, "I'll know how to slap your face, so stop being sexist and give me the satnav."

Five minutes later, they were on route to the nearest motorway, via a restaurant. They would be in Sheffield in less than two hours travelling time, although Sam planned to extend that by having a nice leisurely lunch in the restaurant.

***

"It's a really nice hotel," Matt said, over dinner that evening, "but why are we not staying in your house."

"I've told you before," Sam said. "Sir George insisted I come with you because he was under the mistaken impression you'd be of assistance, and I wasn't going to set the neighbours' tongues wagging by staying at my house with you when my parents are away."

"It's not 1966 now," Matt said. "People simply accept that everyone is having sex."

"Then they'd be under a misconception," Sam said. "Now, I want to make an early start tomorrow morning, so we can start back to Seacombe as soon as we can – and we're not exploring the byways this time."

"Fair point," Matt admitted. "Only…" he hesitated for a second. "Only it was nice driving through those lovely roads in a beautiful sports car, the sun shining down on us, with a stunning, sexy girl besides me."

"You're stupid," Sam said, and for some reason he moved his face closer so that Matt could kiss him.

As they broke apart, the waitress, who had clearly been waiting for her moment, said, "Do you mind if I clear your plates?"

"Oh, of course not," Matt apologised, going a deep shade of red, which Sam thought was rather nice.

Sam had to admit that he was feeling incredibly confused about the way his feelings for Matt were developing. Perhaps he was playing the part of Samantha a bit too well. On the other hand, it was exceptionally nice being a girl with a boyfriend like Matt. "So how many convents did you manage to locate on the internet?" he asked Matt to change the subject, whilst trying not to grin at him too much.

"No many," Matt admitted. "There are four within a reasonable drive of here. Then, there's one in Doncaster and one in Chesterfield. I know they are a bit of a trek but I'm sure Father Wigley would know of them."

"You may not know it," the waitress broke in, "but there's the Convent of the Virgin Mary just a short walk away from here."

"Really?" Sam was astonished. He'd lived in Sheffield all his life and thought he knew most of the city quite well. The hotel where they were staying was quite new, an attempt to redevelop the rather sordid industrial district, totally dilapidated after the demise of the steel industry. His idea of a convent did not extend to it being anywhere near here.

"They always kept this one quiet," the waitress explained. "I was one of the last girls to have a baby there, back in the early 1990s. We girls called it the Convent of Immaculate Conception."

"You believed you had an immaculate conception?" Sam asked, trying to get a grip on what she was saying.

"It must have been immaculate," the waitress said. "The only man I'd been with was a priest, and they always remain chaste."

"Oh," Matt said. "You mean…"

"She had an immaculate conception," Sam said, smiling sweetly at the waitress. That lined up with Mildred's mother's suspicions that it was Father Wigley who had made Samantha pregnant.

"We could walk round there when we’ve finished dinner if you like," Matt suggested. "Just to have a look. I don't expect they welcome visitors at this time of evening."

The waitress gave them directions and after dinner they strolled round there, arm in very comfortable arm. The dismal building, set between disused, boarded-up factories, didn't look as though it had ever welcomed anyone, no matter what time of day. A pair of dirty black steel doors were set in a dirty brick wall, with no windows at ground level, but a few narrow windows with bars at the upper levels. It looked like a prison. A small dirty sign said that visitors should ring and wait, with no promise that anyone would ever open the door.

Sam looked at Matt, and Matt looked back at her. "A nice Christian welcome, I would say," Sam said, his face breaking into a grin. "But please, please let this not be the place where Samantha ended her days."

"Amen," Matt agreed.

"Let's go back to the hotel now and get an early night," Sam suggested.

"Now there's a great idea," Matt said

"I meant so we could get off to an early start," Sam said. It really was difficult being a girl when everything one said was taken the wrong way."

"Early to bed, early to rise," Matt said, a lecherous look appearing on his face.

Sam refused to comment.

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