Part 1 - Chapter 2: Minnie Willy

A Chapter by cad

On one particular Tuesday morning in the mid-90s (no one really knows the date - all those present have refused interview… a shame since this is a work of fiction) something happened. Well, to be honest, I’m sure things happen on every particular Tuesday morning, and most of the non-particular ones, but this was something big, something special, something life-changing. Life-changing for Wilhelm anyway. On this particular Tuesday morning a woman came into the country bookshop to look for a copy of the Karma Sutra for her niece’s christening and, somehow, miraculously, through what he at the time thought must have been divine inspiration (however having asked several gods about it since he has learned that it was, in fact, benign neglect of his life that led to this situation) three quarters of an hour after this woman walked into the bookshop she and Wilhelm were still involved in a deep discussion over whether Winnie the Pooh spoke English or Christopher Robin spoke bear (and all the other languages of the animals of the 100 Acre Wood), amongst other such debates. Wilhelm had never before met a woman as fascinating or scintillatingly intriguing as the angel that stood before him holding open A. A. Milne in her left hand and an illustrated description of the reverse cowgirl in her right.

“It’s been lovely chatting to you…”

“Wilhelm.” They shake hands.

“Well it’s been a pleasure, Wilhelm.”

“Oh mine too, believe me. Enjoy the christening.”

“I will, thank you. Enjoy selling more books. I’ll get back to you on that cowgirl issue.”

“But how? You only know my name and where I work.”

“This is when you give me your number.”

“My…”

“Your phone number, Wilhelm.”

“Oh. Sure.” Wilhelm rattles out his phone number and the woman writes it down on the side of her knee. Wilhelm sees a bit of her thigh below her dungaree-shorts. He pushes his hand down in between his legs and tries to conceal himself beneath the counter.

“Here’s my card. Call me sometime.” The woman pushes a small business card towards Wilhelm’s concealed erection.

“You’re sometime.”

“What?”
“You said to call you sometime.”

“Oh. Just call me.”

“Sure.”

The woman leaves, Wilhelm’s eyes fixed firmly on the curve of her dungaree-shorts. As soon as she is out of eyeshot he looks down at the card:

Minnie Dowler

Receptionist

Holly Wood Farm Shop

Minnie Dowler. Ahhhhh. ‘Isn’t she amazing?’ thought Wilhelm. Over and over and over again. It wasn’t until an 83 year old shouted at him to be served that he realised that Minnie had left a second copy of the Karma Sutra open on the counter for him on page 69: “Good for beginners”. She really knew how Wilhelm worked. He could tell they had a connection. Even from their short conversation (well…not short really was it?) she could tell that he was a virgin. ‘Isn’t she amazing?’

Minnie Dowler had grown up much under the same circumstances as our beloved Wilhelm: she was the black sheep of her family (not that I’m being racist) or shall we call her the ugly duckling of the household (not that I’m being shallow). Either way she didn’t fit in. Her parents were both estate agents and so were astonished to have a daughter with no fashion sense or interest in acquiring great wealth: Minnie’s interests mainly lay in caring for animals, although she cared more about fictitious ones than real ones “because they can talk and show emotion. Duh!” and tantric sex. Unfortunately, due to many of her other traits, she has never been able to achieve the latter. This narrative of her lack of tantricity (not that that’s a word…it is now, I guess) in her love life is not speaking at the time at which she meets Wilhelm. This is speaking Post-End-Of-Universe. And yes, somehow, majestically and magically, this writing has managed to get back to you from Post-End-Of-Universe, Space-Time Avenue, Dulwich (not that such a place exists…I hope. Maybe someone will read this and be so inspired that they name a place this in real life. Of course for this to happen someone will need to found Dulwich. Oh well). Anyway…

That evening Minnie received a phone call. Yes, it was from Wilhelm, well wondered. They chatted, continuing their talk of tantric sex, Winnie the Pooh et al, and eventually getting onto the subject of “us”. It was clear to them both that they were very alike and they both wanted to make more of it. After all, there aren’t many sex-loving (not that they had experience to back this up) people in Godalming. One might think. Rightly or wrongly. Cough.

They met the next day for coffee. Not that they had coffee. Wilhelm swiftly ordered a hot chocolate and was pleasantly surprised when Minnie asked for “the same but loads more cream” then winked at him, a wink which he still spends many a Tuesday morning Sea Urchin walk pondering.

As they were parting they could have kissed. They didn’t.

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