Post War

Wartime Britain had been a troubled time. Jenny had been sent away from her home in London to live with a family in Wales. Now she was returning home after nearly three years, back to London.

It was not the same though; she had left a scared child of sixteen year old and was now returning a young woman of nineteen. London had changed, her home had been bombed, killing her mother, her father had died on the beaches of Normandy, so she had to now live with her Aunt, a lady who she had no memory of and no desire to live with. Jenny would quite happily of lived in Wales, but her aunt had called for her and kind Mrs Powell, although she hated to see Jenny go, knew the importance of being with your own family.

It was 1946, officially the allies had won the war, Jenny peered out of the train window as the train slowed as it entered the outskirts of London, what did we win? she thought looking at the carnage that years of Luftwaffe raids had done to her home. The train pulled into Paddington Station. Jenny gathered her coat, small case and her gas mask and along with several others filed to get off the train. Many of the younger children ran to meet parents they hadn't seen in years. Jenny slowly walked along the platform, unsure of what to expect from a woman she couldn't remember.

As Jenny got to the exit, a rather stocky man in a pristine black suit with white pressed shirt and bow tie, his hair slicked to the side, stood holding a small chalkboard with 'Jennifer Jones' written in immaculate script upon it. Jenny almost laughed on seeing him; this was like something out of a novel. She walked slowly up to the man who kept his eyes focused forward.

"I'm Jenny," she said softly.

The man turned his head and smiled, "very good Miss, I'm Howell, here to collect you on behalf of your aunt, Ms Swift," he took Jenny's small case and led the way towards a very smart black car parked only yards away. Jenny had never been in such a luxurious car and felt quite out of place sat on the soft black leather seats as the driver weaved the car swiftly through the London streets. Jenny sat on one side holding on looking out the window at the streets she only partially knew and no longer recognised. Buildings looked somewhat more grey and duller than before compared to the green rolling hills of the Welsh valley she had called home for the past four years.

The driver stopped the car outside a house on a fairly wide street in a part of London that Jenny had never been. The houses were large with many floors, the windows getting smaller the higher up you looked. The front had an iron fence framing a huge black door with a golden doorknocker that looked like a dragon's head breathing fire. The driver got out and came round to open the door for Jenny.

"No need to worry about your case Miss, Ill get that for you," he said taking her hand to guide her out of the car onto the pavement.

Jenny just smiled as she looked up at the huge door.

Jenny stepped up the five large steps to the door, which then swung open inwards. A man stood in similar dress to the driver, except her was tall and thin, with thin wispy lips and an air of importance.

"Miss Jennifer," he said sounding more like an order than a question.

"Yes," Jenny replied her voice hardly able to force the sound out as she stuttered.

"Very good," he said as he stepped aside and beckoned her to come in. "I'm Finch, the butler, and it will be my utmost honour to be of service to you, whenever you should need anything Miss."

Jenny stuttered again, only managing "thank you."

Finch closed the door behind Jenny then walked past her, Jenny turned to look into the heart of the house, and her mouth dropped open. The entrance opened up into a huge staircase bathed in red velvety carpet leading up to the second floor. A huge crystal chandelier hung above the white marble floor. Jenny has assumed that there were several houses in this street, but now she realised that most, if not the entire street was all one huge house, correction mansion. There were hallways leading both left and right, Jenny could not see the ends.

"Goodness," Jenny exclaimed as she took it all in.

"Quite," said Finch who now had a wry smile on his face which had crinkled a little from the formal greeting, "I will have one of the maids give you a proper tour once you are properly settled in Miss, this is the fourth largest single residence in all of London,"

Jenny just nodded as she felt her head flop back to look up the height of the house to see a skylight. Finch picked up a small bell from a side table and rang it twice, placing it carefully back on the table. A lady scurried up the hallway, she was dressed in a very short black dress, with underskirts that pushed it out very much like a ballerina's tutu. A very tight fitted top that went up around her neck. Short sleeves puffed up. It looked as though she was wearing nylons and had a beautiful pair of black high heels, maybe four or five inches high.

She scurried to Finch and bowed her head to him before looking up at him.

"Miss Jennifer, may I introduce your personal maid Francis, she is available twenty four hours a day to take care of anything you require, and she will take you to your room so you may rest after your long trip."

"Good day Miss Jennifer," Francis said as she nodded to Jenny and then proceeded to lead the way up the staircase. Finch waved Jenny to follow. Jenny jumped and rushed after Francis stepping up the thick red carpet that covered the staircase. Francis led Jenny to the first floor and then turned right down the corridor. They walked for a while then she stopped and faced a large set of double doors, she pulled large silver key out of her pocket a slid it into the silver lock of the door, turning it then pushing both doors open at the same time.

The room was huge, with a magnificent silver four-poster bed against the right hand wall. The walls and ceilings were all white. The far side had three large windows with large heavy curtains and netting over them. There was a door in the corner on the left and what looked like a wall of wardrobe doors with silver etchings.

"This is your room Miss Jennifer," Francis said as she entered the room and straightened out one of the net curtains. "If you would like me to explain everything to you?" Francis said standing with her hands together expectantly. Jenny just nodded. "Very good Miss," Francis said as she first went to the door in the left corner.

"This is your private bathroom," she said swinging the door open and entering. Jenny jumped and ran in after her to see a white room with a large bathtub and toilet. Jenny had never seen a inside toilet before, never mind a room where a bathtub had its own plumbing, she had only ever bathed in a tin bath in front of the fire, and used the toilet in the outhouse, even in snow fall. But here everything was in a room next to her bedroom. Francis had already left the bathroom and was talking in the bedroom, she stopped and re-entered the bathroom.

"Is everything alright Miss Jennifer?" she asked.

"Oh," Jenny stuttered, "Oh yes," she walked out of the tiled room back into the soft white carpeted bedroom.

Francis, stood by the wardrobes and opened the first, the doors opened like a concertina opening up into a huge room with racks and racks of hanging space, along with shelves, draws, full length mirrors and dressing table. "This is your dressing room Miss," Francis said as she walked into the room. "I wasn't exactly sure of your sizes so Miss Swift asked that I buy a range, so there are about ten or so outfits in various sizes, but looking at you now I will remove the larger sizes and we can get you some more appropriate outfits when you have the time and inclination." Jenny just nodded as she stepped into the dressing room. "In these draws are intimates, lingerie and the like," Francis said as she held up a pair of black nylons."

"Real nylons?" Jenny said in amazement.

"Oh yes Miss Jennifer, Ms Swift insists on the best, including silk, satin and nylons."

Jenny ran her hands over the silks and satin lingerie that sat in the draws.

Jenny noticed her little brown suitcase sat on a side table near the dresser; it looked so drab compared the bright whites of the room.

Francis opened the draws on the dressing table, "here we have a selection of make-up, and other items that you may require, night cremes, brushes etc."

Jenny was astonished; these luxury items were almost impossible to get hold of. The war-effort meant that all the silk and nylon had gone into making parachutes; all manufacture of make-ups had halted to make more important items such as guns and munitions.

Francis stopped and waited patiently for Jenny to finish taking in the room and the items hanging up on the rails. Francis made a small cough to attract Jenny's attention. Jenny blushed, "Oh I'm sorry," she said stepping out of the dressing room. "That's quite alright Miss, Francis said, it's just that it's now a little after two and dinner will be served promptly at six. Ms Swift will be expecting you as her guest of honour, and we want to make a good impression."

Jenny nodded, "yes," she replied.

"Very good Miss, I will draw you a bath and we will then get you ready and dressed,"

Jenny just nodded, "thank you Francis."

Over the next three hours, Francis helped to bathe and clean Jenny, washing her long brown hair with a soap that made it feel soft and smell wonderful. Francis had insisted that Jenny should shave her body hair, and had then lathered and shaved using a cutthroat razor her legs, underarms and even her pubic region. Jenny just went along with it, not really knowing any different. Francis helped her dress, firstly in some stunning white silk lingerie, white silk panties and a white silk bra that held her large breasts like no bra had before. Francis clipped a waspie round Jenny's waist and pulled it tight, making her tummy hold in more and her shape look even more 'hour-glass', then a silk suspender belt that held up her first ever pair of nylons. Francis made sure they were on straight; lining the seams ups and clipping them on professionally so there would be no danger of them sliding down. Jenny ran her hands over the material, it sent shivers through her body, and made her feel quite aroused. She blushed a bit as Francis then guided her to the dressing table and proceeded to show her how to apply suitable make-up. Due to Jenny's youth and complexion, Francis didn't feel the need to apply much, but insisted on a bright red on her full lips.

Francis then went to the wardrobe and looked through the long dresses there. "What do you think of this dress Miss?" she asked holding out a red silk dress.

Jenny looked stunned; she stood up and put her hands on the dress, "Is this all silk?"

"Yes Miss of course," Francis replied.

"Oh goodness," Jenny said as she nodded.

"Very good Miss," Francis said as she unzipped the back and held it open for Jenny to step in. Francis pulled it up and zipped it into place, making sure it fitted perfectly. When she was happy Francis came to check Jenny from the front, asking her to turn to make sure she looked good from all angles. Lastly Francis went to the shoe rails and brought over a pair of red heels that were five inches high with a slight platform on the front.

Jenny had always loved high-heeled shoes, but had never had any more than her inch brogues that Mrs Powell had bought her as her 'Sunday best'. These were something else, glamorous and sexy, she put her foot out and Francis knelt to slide them on her feet one by one. Jenny stood up and carefully stepped around the dressing room, she found them surprising easy to walk in.

"Very good Miss," Francis said smiling as she strutted around the dressing room, "you are a natural."

Francis checked the clock, five-to-six, "we must be going Miss," she said, walking towards the doors.

Jenny took a deep breath, which was difficult in her waspie and stepped after Francis who walked slowly a few feet in front of her. They walked down the corridor and down the huge staircase back into the reception area. Finch was greeting an elderly couple as Francis led Jenny down the right hand corridor and into the first room on the right.

The room was a large dining room, a long rectangular table in the middle of the room, with candelabras and wine glasses and decanters covered the table with immaculate white china plates. The seats were mostly taken and the room hushed as Jenny entered. Francis led Jenny who was felt her face flush the same colour as her dress, feeling everyone's eyes on her. She walked towards the middle of the table where there was an empty seat, the Lady to the left stood up. She was very beautiful, almost stunning, she had very pale skin and her hair had gone grey with age but you could see her beauty had stayed. Her eyes were piercing black and she didn't blink as Jenny approached. Jenny felt as if her cheeks were on fire as her aunt extended her hand and Jenny took it.

"My my," she said, "Finch said you were beautiful my dear, but I think he under-sold you, it looks as if my brother didn't do to badly after all, God rest his soul."

Jenny blushed, "thank you aunt," Jenny replied as she took her position to her right and sat down. The couple that had just arrived quickly took their seats at the far end of the table and the room turned its attention to their host.

"Ladies and Gentlemen," she started, "thank you for coming this evening; it warms my heart to see so many of you well after such a desperate time for our country and our union. We have all lost so much over the past five years, but it is now that we must come together and help to re-build, this time stronger and more magnificent than before."

A few let out a cheer clinking glasses and holding them aloft.

Jenny smiled and aware she was being watched, lifted her glass and took a sip, it was red wine, Jenny had never drunk alcohol before and this wine felt warm as it ran down her throat, making her cough a little. She flushed red, putting the glass down and wiped her red lips with her napkin.

Her aunt continued, "May I introduce someone who I have only today met for the first time as the beautiful young lady that she now is, my niece, Jennifer." She stood back and applauded and everyone else joined in. Jenny felt her face go even redder; unsure as to what to do she smiled and nodded a few times at various people. "Everyone will have the opportunity to meet with her much more intimately in the coming days and weeks," Jenny's aunt said as she called the room to order with a wave of her hand.

Ms Swift sat down and immediately pulled her chair very close up to Jenny, "I'm so pleased you accepted my invitation to come and live with me my child," she said in a half whisper. "I'm not sure how aware you were of your father and my disagreement, but be assured it is water-under-the-bridge and I still loved him and was devastated when I heard of his fate in France." She bowed her head down and took Jenny's hands in hers. "I think the last time I saw you was when you were only two years old, even then I could tell you would grow into a beauty, just like your mother." "I don't have any family of my own, I was not blessed with a child, but I did work my way through three husbands, who at times were more like children," she smiled wryly. "But with wars and illness, I have outlasted all of them, but it has afforded me quite the luxurious lifestyle that you will now have." "Don't mistake me for a pompous snob my dear, I am still the same cockney girl that grew up on the streets of Hackney before the Great War, its just now I have earned a certain social position and standing and one must keep up appearances," she finished the sentence in a very posh mock tone that made Jenny laugh.

"Thank you aunt," Jenny said feeling much more comfortable.

"Oh my dear call me Lizzy, it's the one name that has been the same over the past fifty years, I've been a Jones, Buchanon, Dawson and now a Swift - at least we can all agree on Lizzy," she said smiling broadly, "and aunt makes me sound older that I am, and feel older than I should be."

Lizzy moved her chair back just as several waiters all dressed in black tails started to serve the first course. Jenny tried it, a very thick creamy leek and potato soup. She hadn't realised quite how hungry she was and didn't take long to finish it off. Lizzy was chatting to the gentleman on her right and would occasionally glance over at Jenny and smile.

To Jenny's left was a younger gentleman who, once Jenny had finished her first course introduced himself as Harold Gordon the second originally from Hampshire now residing in Chelsea, London. Jenny had never spoken to anyone who spoke so posh and she really had to concentrate as he spoke. Jenny had picked up a bit of a Welsh lilt in her accent which came out with certain words. She tried to converse with Harold, being polite, but also being demure and delicate like all good girls should be, this went against Jenny's natural instinct of intense curiosity. She had been told many times by her mother that she asked too many questions; her tongue was like a machine gun spraying out questions, one hundred rounds to the second. Jenny had started to notice that in the last few years that boys had started to pay more attention to her, she would be sent on errands into the village for Mrs Powell and notice the eyes on her as she walked down the village high street collecting groceries. She had been what Mrs Powell had called a late bloomer, her tom-boy like image had changed dramatically from her seventeenth year, and she had filled out in all the right places. Something of a growth-spurt pushed her up a whole foot and at the same time her breasts grew large and voluptuous and her hips widened. Mrs Powell had commented frequently on what a beautiful girl she had grown into, but it wasn't until boys stared at her she began to realise that maybe Mrs Powell had been right. Jenny began to use her femininity to get things that she wanted. During the war it was impossible to get chocolate or fruit, although if she spoke nicely to the grocer, he would give her some that he put aside specially. It just involved a few kind words and a bit of flattery, simple really. Mrs Powell scolded her once, saying that using her feminine whiles to get what she wanted smacked of prostitution and that God would cast her into the fires of hell like Tamar the whore from some Bible story or other. Jenny was religious, but was more careful to behave more appropriately when Mrs Powell was around. Even with Jenny's flirting, she never allowed more than that to happy with any boy, she refused offers of courtship and seemed to dismiss the boys once she had what she wanted from them. Many thought it was naivety, and always thought the best of her but some such as Mrs Powell could see what she was, a tease and a manipulator.

Jenny zoned back into the conversation, "the mare strode over the ball and meant that I missed the chucker all-together," Harold Gordon laughed.

Jenny smiled and stifled a girly giggle in her handkerchief. Jenny had no idea what he was talking about but she thought it important to, as her aunt had said to 'keep up appearances'.

The main course was pheasant, another delicacy that was hard to get hold of during the war. Jenny again wasted no time in finishing off her plate. Once she had finished she sat back and felt her tummy strain against her tight waspie, wishing that Francis hadn't tightened it quite so much. Desert was fresh strawberries and a thick cream; Jenny hadn't had strawberries for years and ate them quickly, filling her mouth with them until she could hardly chew. Once dinner had finished and the waiter had cleared the table, everyone stood up and walked out of the room.